Stories of Tie Up Games

“Eh,” Sebastian stumbled, gawking at the bound woman. “I mean, that’s plausible, but you acted appallingly.” He sighed and paced a couple of laps through his chamber. “You got any proof? Why aren’t you lying to get free?”

“Sebastian, I’ve no proof. Believe me. Your father tortured me all night. I got no sleep, and why would he order you to prevent me from communicating?”

“Ehm, then why would he bring you here in the first place?”

Elaine, still under his bed, smiled with the stinky red leotard stuffed in her mouth. These made-up stories were always peculiar, and everyone smarter than a toddler could debunk every little lie. But, as a damsel, Isabelle was taught to save herself in these circumstances.

“Because he refuses to be my babysitter and cannot throw me in some dungeon all day. Otherwise, I could escape. He wants a cheap guard,” Isolde said.

“Fair point, but meanwhile...”

Before Sebastian finished his sentence, Isolde screamed. “Please, not that hood. I cannot stand them. I beg you.”

These words seemed not to reach Sebastian’s ears as he gagged her and strapped the hood around her head. As Elaine had predicted, he would request her advice, while Isolde could not hear them.

“Does she speak truthfully?” Sebastian asked after lifting the mattress, blinding Elaine. Then he discovered she could not nod or shake her head with her face pressed against the wooden slats. “Okay then, I’ll ungag you.”

“I don’t know! No-one tells me nothing,” Elaine blurted out. Sebastian had to choose whether to believe Isolde. Not her. “Release me. How did I ever wrong you?”

Sebastian sighed. “You won’t tell me anything, do you? Then that smelly thing goes right back in your mouth.”

After gagging her again, he put the mattress back and lazed down on his bed, not helping any of his two damsels. He read books and fiddled on his phone for two hours, only leaving to give Isolde a much-needed toilet visit. Yet, consistent with his father’s instructions, he locked her hood. He had given Elaine a few sips of water, so her bladder was still empty. So no opportunity to be a pain in the ass. She could only scream in her gag when Sebastian moved, as the slats bent under his weight, altering the feeling of the ropes.

“I hope he frees me for lunch. My arms are stiff,” Elaine thought. Sebastian was a skilled rigger who had spread her weight evenly, but her predicament allowed no movement. Extended suspensions were always unpleasant.

Yet, a damsel can have dreams of freedom, prosperity, and basic needs, but her life is a ruthless tragedy full of despair, misery, and false hope.

“Sebastian, we need to speak,” Mr. DuBois declared, rushing through the door without warning.

“What’s the matter?”

“I chatted with Madeleine, and she acknowledged something under pressure. Her feet wished to talk.”

“Was she sorrowful I had her tied all night? I don’t regret that.”

Elaine was proud of how Sebastian defended himself but realized his attempts were futile.

“No, something about Lynette. Rise.”

Sebastian sighed and complied, recognizing a hopeless situation and stood up. Mr. DuBois flung the mattress away and exposed Elaine. Her eyes were wide open in horror.

“So, who’ve we got here? Lynette! That’s astonishing. How are you, darling?”

Elaine’s gag muffled her cry.

“That sounds like you’re doing amazing. Sebastian, any explanation for this?”

“Oh, sorry, dad. She ran in late at night, and I captured her. I forgot. Sorry.”

To Elaine’s surprise, Mr. DuBois bought the lie and untied her without further inquiries. She fought him, which earned her bonds; he tied her legs together and her arms behind her with her elbows touching. Then he tossed her over his shoulder and bore her to his room but did not drop her. Instead, he drove Madeleine on her office chair back to Sebastian, stating he was responsible for two girls today.

“What imaginations entered your empty skull, dumb bitch? Dreamed of escape? That this place isn’t secure?” Mr. DuBois said as he thrust her on his bed. Elaine tried to roll away, but this was not appreciated. He clutched her face and sat down on her stomach. “Lynette, look me in my eyes.”

Elaine had little choice to comply, and both calmed down. “Good girl. That’s better. Now we can discuss some important issues.” He scraped his throat and moved his legs to ease the strain on her body. “I grasp your desire to escape, but you won’t ever get so close again. That’s a promise. But, I’ll grant you a second chance. Okay?”

Elaine nodded, and her client grinned. He climbed off her, rolled her around, and untied her. Her experience told her to remain tranquil. “Perfect, but I’ll let you decide whether you stay here or return to the streets of New York.”

Elaine trembled, and he led her to the bathroom where the cage awaited from which she had escaped the previous day. Her client locked her in it with seven high-quality padlocks, handed her a tiny bag, and draped a sheet around the cage. “Lynette, change. Nothing more than in that bag and be quick. Two minutes.”

Ignoring the fact her client would see her nude when pulling the sheet away, Elaine instantly undressed. The limited space complicated matters, but she succeeded before opening the bag with a basic bikini set. It had black and white stripes and looked flimsy. As usual, it fitted perfectly as the firm had her measures and covered more than she had expected. Yet, it was sluttier than anything she had worn for this job before. That included all the blouses without bras underneath.

As she sat still for five seconds, Mr. DuBois asked whether she was ready, and Elaine made a short signal. He pulled the blanket away. “Oh, my… You’re still gorgeous, Lynette. Never forget that.”

Elaine huffed as Mr. DuBois directed her to sit up and removed the leotard-filled gag. He smirked. “Shite, Sebastian has not been kind. You see, I ain’t more disgusting than the average human.” He reached toward her neck, and with a little silver key, he removed the black choker collar that had been there for almost two weeks. Elaine occasionally forgot it. She only acknowledged it when watching herself in the mirror or was reminded. During her training, she often got to wear things for a prolonged time, and those were often much more uncomfortable.

“I’ll now simulate what homelessness at night in New York involves. That means no collar. Take the blanket and pretend you’re alone.”

Elaine complied and wrapped herself in the black sheet. The metal tray at the bottom was hard and cold, but pretending to be asleep was easy as Mr. DuBois dimmed the lights. He plugged a fan in and blasted air to her. Yet, trying to look stubborn, Elaine ignored it and pulled the sheet closer.

Mr. DuBois turned the fan to its maximum. “On the streets, there’s no protection against the elements. No cozy mattresses, no thick blankets, and not even walls to shelter you from the wind.”

“Yet, the wind is the least of your concerns if it is cold outside. You have one set of clothes. If they get drenched, you have no spare can’t dry them,” Mr. DuBois said. Elaine felt the first drops through the sheet and feared what was coming. He gradually increased the water pressure and lowered the temperature, soaking the poorly shielded damsel. “In the autumn and winter, it gets cold. Painfully cold. Slowly, blood stops flowing through your fingers and toes, and warmth becomes a long-forgotten fantasy. If you try to find shelter, you’re kicked out. Even the rats are more liked than the homeless. Then you have no-one.”

Elaine tried to cover her shivering but failed. The sheet was a chilly, drenched coat around her, and the tray filled with a layer of cold water. “Lynette, do you look forward to such a life?”

“No, Sir, I do not,” Elaine replied, trying to show no emotion.

“Great, me neither. It’s cold, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it is.”

“So which life do you prefer? A cold, lonely life on the streets, or here, where your most important qualities are appreciated. Although there might be a minor inconvenience from time to time.”

“Sir, to be frank, both are dreadful.”

“Please, pick one. Or should I leave you alone with ice-cubes in the tray to simulate a winter night?”

“Sir, in that case, I fancy staying here, although I doubt there’s an alternative.”

“Smart girl. Catch yourself,” Mr. DuBois said, flipping the cage ninety degrees. Elaine rested on the metal bars as the cold water flowed away. He flung a towel to her. “Dry yourself.”

He left the room for a minute and returned with a pen and a single sheet of paper he signed. He sat on the side of the bathtub and waited until Elaine had finished drying her body.

“Lynette, you get a second chance, but we start directly with a proper relationship. Please read, sign, and learn this.”

Elaine read the short contract in astonishment, smiled internally, and signed it before Mr. DuBois showed a new collar. It was two-inch wide, made of black leather, and had a metal band in the middle, spelling slave in capital letters across her neck. He locked it around her neck with a proper padlock, dehumanizing her.

A ball-gag and black hood followed that covered Elaine’s face, safe for an opening under her nose and her eyes. He laced her long hair through a hole in the back into her customary ponytail. Slowly, her characteristics faded away, and an unrecognizable piece of bare flesh in a bikini remained.

“Get used to this. You will wear it all day from now on. I return in an hour and expect you to know the contract by heart. Good luck, and don’t disappoint me again. That won’t end happily.”


As promised, Mr. DuBois returned. He had problems getting the correct keys in the seven locks and connected a leash to Elaine’s collar. Obeying the new rules, she crawled behind her Master on all fours and followed him to Sebastian’s room, where the house’s three other occupants waited. The two girls were still bound and gagged on the office chairs.

“Lynette, it’s maybe helpful to express your new status as a slave. Please recite our contract.”

Elaine sighed as her Master removed her gag and sat on her knees, staring at six curious, though slightly frightened pairs of eyes.

I, Lynette Ragnelle, declare to be Benjamin DuBois’ slave. This means:
I forfeit my rights as a human being and will devote my life to satisfy my Master’s needs, comfort, and expectations. I submit to him to the best of my abilities.
I will immediately obey any command of my Master without question.
I will not have any opinions or thoughts of my own but share my Master’s. Hence, thinking is redundant to me.
I will stay silent unless I am asked a question directly and will address my Master respectfully.
I will accept any punishment my Master seems fit and his judgment that it is necessary for my training.

More rules followed, but Mr. DuBois cut Elaine off. He stroked her hooded head. “Good girl. Now we start training you properly.”

Is there any way out, for that poor damsel. ?

Interesting rules to follow for Lynette. Not sure I could ever do that, or do that to somebody else.
Thanks for keeping this an ongoing story.

Tieup1 wrote: 5 years ago Is there any way out, for that poor damsel. ?

Maybe, maybe not. All will be revealed in the next chapter!

slackywacky wrote: 5 years ago Interesting rules to follow for Lynette. Not sure I could ever do that, or do that to somebody else.
Thanks for keeping this an ongoing story.

Yeah, those rules are very strict. But, just as you mention that, this story won't be an ongoing story anymore: This is the final chapter.

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“Master, may I enter Your bed tonight?” Elaine pleaded softly, kneeling in front of her client in his bedroom. Isabelle was already fast asleep in a cage at the foot of the bed. She slept with a wide-open mouth, and Elaine did not want to disturb her at three in the morning.

Mr. DuBois had trained her obedience all afternoon by assigning a position to all numbers up to 50: flat on your back, star-shape on your stomach, beg like a dog, freeze, etc. The long list contained no logic, and the five push-ups for every mistake or slow response added up, especially when gagged. Later, he added a blindfold, arbitrarily corrected her with a wooden pole, accelerated the rate of numbers, and sometimes switched a few. After three hours, Elaine was drained and unable to move a muscle. All her bones and her brain screamed in agony as her merciless client only allowed her 90-second breaks.

In her French maid uniform, Isolde had prepared a tasty roast dinner for the family sitting around the kitchen table. Elaine had to sit underneath and earn her meal by silently begging for bites between the legs of her hosts. Having had no lunch, she was desperate. It had been degrading though her clients had loved it. Then Mr. DuBois gave a half an hour recap of the numbers game, and she swore he had changed some numbers to punish her. Practicing slave positions, kneeling, and exhibiting certain body parts, followed, and he photographed them all as “reference points.” Elaine, in the black-and-white bikini and heavy collar, had been humiliated again, regardless of Mr. DuBois calling her beautiful every few minutes.

With two more tie-ups that evening, he weakened Elaine even further. First, he tied her in the bathtub with a temperature changing garden hose keeping her awake. In reality, it was not much worse than the New York street experience. A 3-mile crawl bound on a treadmill took her as many hours before Mr. DuBois brushed her teeth and called it a day.

Or almost. Elaine’s Master was not an ally in her desire to chase her dreams.

“Yes, you may enter my bed in a minute, Lynette, but I have a small request and will impose certain restrictions,” Mr. DuBois answered.

“Master, I can merely thank you for your extraordinary kindness,” Elaine said with a trembling, almost sarcastic voice. She was exhausted and disliked the strict slave/master role-play; it allowed little playful naughtiness. Failing was much more fun than perfection.

“How has Isolde treated you, Lynette? I demand an honest reply.”

“Badly, Master. She was cruel and harsh, but I’ve forgiven her,” Elaine said, curious whether Mr. DuBois would spot her mistake.

He showed no surprise. “Your thoughts are mine, so I judge who you forgive. Understood, slave?”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry,” Elaine replied, who grasped her next task.

“You should be. Your punishment will start at noon,” Mr. DuBois bluffed as her contract expired at 10 AM. “Now, you wake Isolde and revenge yourself. Her ties prevent her from harming you. Be vicious.”

Elaine stared at the red carpet and crawled to the cage her Master unlocked. Isolde slept, or at least pretended, and her mouth was still open, so she hand-gagged her. After a four-second delay, Isolde screamed, moistening Elaine’s hand before receiving a soft slap against her butt. She never had been a dominatrix and disliked hurting others, even when consensual. Strangely, she did mind when others mistreated her.

Isolde screamed and tried to kick away. Yet, she could not raise her tied legs. Mr. DuBois handed Elaine a sponge and scarf.

“Lynette, don’t hesitate. Continue. Remember how Isolde has wronged you. It’s justice.”

Elaine gagged her cooperating colleague though she preferred sleeping right on her, Mr. DuBois demanded more spankings, then tickling, and finally to remove the gag and demand an apology. He insisted her continue and increase her brutality, so she had to hurt Isabelle for real.

“Lynette, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” Isolde cried, also wishing to sleep instead of role-playing.

Elaine caught the gaze of her Master, who shook her head. “I won’t accept it.”

“Isolde, lovely lass, Lynette will continue this every night for every day you ruined her life,” Mr. DuBois promised faultily. He let her close the cage after stealing Isolde’s pillow and locked it. “You may enter.”

Now Elaine crawled in the bed, understanding she received no night dress or Pajamas, and felt leather cuffs and ropes under a pillow.

“Haha, they’re yours, Lynette. Lie down in the middle in your back.” Mr. DuBois fastened cuffs to her four limbs and pulled her in a lenient spread-eagle. Her feet and hands could not touch, but Elaine could sleep like this, especially as she already had difficulty not to pass out on the floor. After he changed in black silk pajamas with long sleeves and dimming the lights, he joined his vulnerable damsel in bed.

He rested on his side, facing Elaine. “Did you miss Elle last night?” he said, showing the elephant plush and laying it against her left ear.

“Yes, Master. I did,” Elaine said truthfully.

“Good girl. Then you’ll enjoy tonight.”

Mr. DuBois put his left arm around her chest and his left leg over hers. His head rested on her right arm, squeezing the plush between them. Within seconds and to Elaine’s surprise, he slept. Most clients were full of adrenaline after such a session. He had used his daily dose long before.

Meanwhile, Elaine was uncomfortable with the big man sleeping on her. Particularly where their skin contacted, it felt improper. As if Mr. DuBois was her sugar daddy. Gross. It exceeded the usual tie-ups. On SPLENDID, Elaine had shared beds with men, sometimes strangers, but never in a bikini or touching. But, as she pondered whether to use her safe-word, she had fallen asleep and dreamed about today’s events. After a while, Mr. DuBois letting her do number 21, roll leftward and number 38, roll rightward on repeat.


The following morning, a scream next to her ear woke Elaine. Her numb arm told her Mr. DuBois had not moved and now struggled in a blind panic. His right arm had found a path under her chest during the night., grappling his young bed partner. “Sebastian, what are you doing? Get those damn things off me. Now! I command you!”

“No, dad, you earned them,” Sebastian said.

“What did I do wrong? She signed the contracts.”

“No, you tricked a desperate girl, pervert,” Madeleine said, standing next to her brother.

“Untie me. Else, I’ll call the police.”

The children had fastened their father’s legs to the bed and his arms around Elaine.

Mr. DuBois had Elaine grappled but now closed his arms together. “Let me go! Otherwise, I’ll injure her.”

“Don’t you dare,” Madeleine interrupted, freeing Elaine’s left ankle. She tried to move away and join her legs, but they were stiff, and Mr. DuBois squeezed her feeble body.

“Let her go. You won’t win,” Sebastian exclaimed, tying a cow hitch around the handcuff chain between his father’s wrists as Madeleine unlocked Elaine’s left wrist.

“Imagine this hurts,” Mr. DuBois whispered in Elaine’s ear before he cursed and pressed her stomach. Elaine held her breath as if she was deprived of air and shrieked after a few seconds, glad this was not an apartment complex. “You want to be responsible for her death, Madeleine? Can you live with that?”

“Trying to manipulate me, piece of shit? You’ve failed.”

Sebastian hurled the rope over an innocent-looking hook and hauled it up, rolling Elaine on her client. Madeleine freed her remaining limbs and encouraged her to escape before aiding her brother to secure the ropes that scarcely lifted the man.

“I can’t move. My muscles hurt. Too stiff,” Elaine could phrase in half a minute, pretending to be short of breath. Her fingers could reach nasty, unprotected areas like her client’s face, but such tactics were not damsel worthy. She could struggle harder and fight through the pain, but the two children were plotting, which she favored.

“What about me? Let me out,” Isolde whined, getting told Lynette was in trouble and had priority. Then Madeleine took one of his feet and tickled it as Sebastian grabbed Elaine’s legs and hauled her out. It worked perfectly, as the strong, grown-up man was incredibly ticklish, and Elaine let Sebastian drag her out. Mr. DuBois got his hands in her long hair but let go, so she landed on the cage. She had to back off as he rushed forward, getting a knee on the cage before the wrist rope tossed him back on the bed.

Luckily, Sebastian tied two more ropes with cow hitches and secured them to the front and back of the bed, forcing the handcuffs to stay in position. Mr. DuBois was stuck.

Elaine admired the siblings’ chemistry and teamwork as Madeleine had found the key to Isolde’s cage and freed the second damsel.

As she rose, Elaine gave her an enormous hug. “How can I ever thank you, Madeleine? You saved my life from that atrocious, wicked man. Thank you again.”

With tears in her eyes, she spun around to Sebastian, took a leap, and with her last energy, clamped herself around the astonished boy. “You were marvelous. With him, I’d not have survived today.”

Then she took a deep breath, connected their eyes, and kissed him: A damsel’s payment to a brave hero. Luckily, he had not foreseen this, turned red, and took no action before Elaine retreated her mouth. “How can I ever repay you?”

As Sebastian struggled to form a reply, she let him go and rested on a nearby chair.

“Eh, maybe later today. I am hungry, tired, and feel dirty, momentarily. I’ve been bedeviled and degraded for two weeks, so another won’t hurt. Besides, you’ll be gentle, won’t you?”

“Eh, yeah, of course. So, that’s a deal?”

Elaine nodded and waited as Isolde thanked her saviors and turned to Mr. DuBois as her eyes spat fire. “If those two are going to play, I fancy some entertainment too. I’ve been mistreated too and crave for some sweet, sweet revenge.”

She stepped toward her client and picked up the ball-gag Elaine wore the previous day. “Coward, open your mouth. It’s time for a taste of your own medicine, so don’t chicken out. You’re a disgusting monster.”

Elaine spotted a smirk on Mr. DuBois’s face as she left the room to go to the bathroom. She loved her new job, as being woken in such an overwhelming situation while getting a generous paycheck was almost impossible. As she examined herself in the mirror, wearing the bikini and the frightful collar, she grinned, envisioning all the insane, absurd adventures the next few years would bring. As a professional damsel, she was unhesitant to submit to every burglar, cowboy, and pervert that kidnapped her.

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This is chapter 18 and the end of "A Professional Damsel's First Job." I want to thank everyone who has read this story and especially all who commented! That motivated me greatly!

A cracking end to the story, one of the best I have read. It was well written, and had plenty of twists, and turns. I really enjoyed reading it, well done. Hope you write more stories soon

Darn, it is over. Now I have to wait to see what else you can come up with...

Thanks! But I want to continue one of my long stories first before starting a new story. Keeping 3 stories updated simultaneously is impossible for me right now.