Stories of Tie Up Games

I don't usually like to brag, but I'm a pretty brilliant detective. I'm only sixteen years old and I've already brought down multiple criminal operations around my hometown. I've brought down gangs, crooked politicians, and dirty school officials, placing myself in real danger many times, which makes it so much harder to tell this story. I need to tell my side of the story though, because I want you all to know that what happened at Camp Clearwater this summer is NOT what you think it was. I'm a legitimate, professional private investigator, and I was NOT part of the failed panty raid that night!

The real reason I was even stumbling through the forest that night was because I was working on my latest case. I'd discovered that the local girl scout troop was using money from their charity drives to buy themselves extravagant gifts, but I needed solid evidence. I knew they'd talk about it at some point over the course of their summer camp, so my plan was to plant a few microphones and cameras in their cabins and catch them bragging about all the cool stuff they'd bought with their stolen money. THAT, is why I had all that surveillance equipment in my bag that night, not because I'm some panty stealing pervert!

As good a detective as I am though, there was no way I could have known that the boys from across the lake were raiding the girls' camp that night. There was no noise or commotion of any kind to warn me of the scuffle occurring just a few cabins away, leaving my clueless as I looked for a good place to install my equipment. The job was nearly done when Chelsea Miller and her goons caught me rifling through their cabing red handed.

"Well look what we have here girls," Chelsea announced her presence, "another loser trying to steal our underwear."

My heart leapt into my throat and I quickly spun around to see Chelsea and the girls blocking my only way out. The four of them stood with their hands on their hips, dressed in spandex gym attire and confidently smirking at me with knowing looks. My reputation preceded me, and I could see the looks of predatory anticipation in their eyes, they knew why I was there. Still, I've been in far deadlier situations than this, so I was confident I could talk my way out of it. Plus, and this pretty embarrassing to admit after the fact, but after escaping so many close calls at the hands of real criminals, I wasn't too concerned about a couple of girl scouts who where all smaller than me.

I tried bluffing my way out, leveraging proof that I didn't have to intimidate the girls into cooperating with me, "Take it easy, girls. You know why I'm here and I don't want to have to-ooof!"

Before I could finish speaking, Chelsea casually walked up and kicked right between my legs, bringing me to my knees. The pain was such a shock that when Chelsea placed her foot on my chest and gave me a shove, I toppled over backwards and remained there. She stood over me, her hands still on her hips, and snapped her fingers as a wordless signal for the others to attack. I was in no condition to fight back after that swift kick, but that didn't stop me from trying. Despite having the breath knocked out of my lungs, it took them a considerable amount of time to subdue me, but subdue they did. Three of them went to work contorting my body into a dozen different uncomfortable and embarrassing holds, one them one of them always keeping a hand sealed tightly over my mouth. I tried shouting for help throughout the entire struggle, especially when they started stealing my clothes, but when I wouldn't stop they resorted to packing my mouth with their socks. While her goons wrestled away my dignity, Chelsea sat on my chest and delighted in slowly stuffing me in front of my own cameras. I gagged and bucked and wiggled and blushed as I was overpowered and dressed in a snug pair of pink, boycut panties.

"You boys want our panties so bad? Here, they're all yours!" One girl chided.

My skin must have been full tomato red, because Chelsea burst out laughing at the shocked and embarrassed expression on my face. The girls, satisfied with their ironic punishment, began to show off their renowned knot tying skills. I had begun to recover from Chelsea's kick by now, but it was too late. Using the ridiculous amount of brown rope they had on hand, they had already tied my arms and hands down at my sides. With my head trapped between Chelsea's thighs I couldn't see what was going on, but I could feel my entire upper body being squeezed tighter and tighter as the minutes passed. They took their time, and Chelsea showed no signs of losing interest in making me eat her socks. At first she made me chew and suck on one of her thick wool gym socks, squishing my bulging cheeks with her hand and cooing at me like I was a dog learning new tricks. But then she'd declare it 'clean' before choosing another one and starting the process all over again. In the time it took for the girls to truss me up like a turkey, she went through over a dozen different socks before leaving two of them packed tightly into place and bulging against the multiple strips of duct tape sealing my lips.

When they finally finished, they stood me up in front of a mirror and immediately laughed at my reaction. The elaborate, interconnected network of ropes were so thorough that all I could do was stand there and awkwardly squirm in place, mortified at the sight of me in girly underwear. I instinctively tried to reach with my hands to cover the bulge, but it just made my squirming look more desperate. From my ankles all the way up to my shoulders I was tied up tight, tighter than any gangster or crook ever had, but I was convinced that I would squirm free if I didn't give up. I stood there feeling emasculated as the girls pointed and giggled at me twisting and grunting helplessly.

"You should have just minded your business..." Chelsea admonished, leaning against me and shaking her head, "but you just had to go sticking your nose where it didn't belong...in our underwear."

"Mmmmphh! Mmmmphh! Mmmmmph! Mmmmph mmmphhh!" I shouted that I was innocent and that she knew it, too angry to care that she was baiting reactions out of me.

A smarmy little blonde snapped the waist band of my underwear and sarcastically asked, "What's wrong, Josh? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Before I could even begin to recover from the overwhelming embarrassment of being dominated by girl scouts, they all lifted me off my feet, carrying my violently wriggling figure out of the cabin and into the night...

To Be Continued...

Fine story! Looking forward to the continuation.

Been awhile since I've been back on this site. This was the first thing I read since then and it was a great! Looking forward to see what you got cookin' for us.

Please continue this story!

So there I was, wriggling like a fish out of water while a thieving gang of girl scouts carried me through the woods. It wasn't a long walk to the center of their camp, but at the time it felt like it was taking all night. I still couldn't believe what had just happened, I planned for so many different things to go wrong, but not once did I worry that I'd simply get kicked in the balls and swarmed. Now, all I could do was struggle. I shouted all the different criminal charges I was going to have pressed against them when I finally got out of this, mostly to try and mask the sounds of me gagging on their dirty socks.

"Gnnnggg! Mmmmphhh! Lmmm mm gmmm! Lmmm gmm gmmm! Wnnn mmm gnnngg mmmmfff hrrr mmm gnnngg hmmmfff mmmmphhh mmmm-!"

"I think we caught the biggest one!" One of them giggled.

As we neared the center of the girls' camp, I realized I wasn't the only the boy the girls had captured that night. Standing in a line shoulder to shoulder were six other boys, all of them bound and gagged. They were similarly stripped of their own clothes and dressed in a variety of girly underwear and thigh high socks, mouths stuffed so full that their cheeks were bulging just as much as their panties were. The sound of their muffled tirade couldn't be heard far beyond the light of the camp fire, and their frantic jerking was pointless against fabled girl scout knots. I was plopped onto my feet in the middle of the line up, sticking out like a sore thumb as I was a head taller than anyone else present, with the exception of a few of the girls. I recognized some of them from my school, they were a few grades behind me, and exactly the kind of idiots you'd expect to try a panty raid.

"We caught another panty pervert in our cabin!" Chelsea proudly proclaimed, "He was setting up cameras to peep on us too!"

Chelsea grabbed one of the ropes wrapped around my thighs and tugged, forcing me to hop forward and present myself for their gaze.

I shook my head and tried to argue, "Nmmphh! Nmmm mmm gnnnngph!"

They all scoffed and snickered, their eyes critically analyzing me while I just kind of awkwardly stood there squirming and gagging. Talking over the muffled chorus of sock-stuffed boys, Chelsea teased, "Why so angry, boys? You have all the panties you could ever want! You don't have to wear those embarrassing tighty whities ever again. This camp has been around for almost a hundred years, and every summer you entitled like perverts panty raid the girls' camp. Well, I think it's time that we start a new tradition. If you boys want our panties so bad, then you'll get them, every summer, from now on."

Once the phones started to come out she really dialed up the attitude, always showing off her curves with her hands on her hips. This is probably the video some of you saw, the one where Chelsea works the girls into an angry little mob of vindictive brats. Some girls recorded it, the ones who didn't took pictures, and one them even live streamed it! While everybody else was laughing at a bunch of pesky perverts, I was trying to defend my reputation against this slander, the bulge of socks shifting against the duct tape plastered over my lips as I implored my innocence with wide and wild eyes. The display of a dozen camera flashes lighting up the night caught the attention of the rest of the boy scouts on the other side of the lake, which I would come to realize later was a calculated move by the girls. When the girls descended upon us for a free-for-fall photo shoot, the other boys watched the emasculating display from across the lake with high quality cameras of their own. The voyeurs had expected a show of seething girls after a successful raid, but now it was they who were seething. Unwilling to lose the summer's battle of the sexes, they began to brainstorm rescue operations, and I really wish they hadn't.

While the remaining boys across the lake prepared for their next mistake, those of us already captured had been spread around camp, as if we were carnival attractions that small gaggles of girls would drift between. One was tied to a tree with poison ivy stuffed into his under wear and thigh high socks. Two were being tickled pink, squealing, snorting, and writhing on the lake's shore in full view of their camp. One was tied to a post, an ant hill at his feet, and honey being slowly poured down his underwear. Another two had been taken into a cabin for full makeovers, which just left me...

You know those dunk tank games, where you throw a ball, and if you hit the target a person gets dunked into a tank of water? Well that's the attraction I was turned into. First, they frog-tied my legs so that they were folded together with rope, my arms kept behind my back. Then, in the center of camp, Chelsea had her goons hold me down while she used markers to color a giant bullseye directly over my bulge. Two of them sat on top of me, holding me still while I bucked and shimmied. The look on my face when I felt her hands begin to handle me sent all of the girls looming over me into a fit of laughter. I couldn't see anything thanks to the obnoxious brunette in camouflage booty shorts and red tank top straddled on my chest, keeping my head trapped between her thighs.

"Wnnphhh mmphhh mmm gnnnggph?!?! Wnndd dmm thhnngg mmmphh mmmmhmmm!? Gnnggg mm hnngg mmmff mm! Mmmphh! Mmmph! Mmmphh mmmphh! Mmmmmppphh!!"

She spent the next five minutes arranging, squeezing, poking, and rubbing me into a growing problem. The 'target' was impossible to miss now. When Chelsea was done helping herself with her hands, she gave my bulge one last satisfied pat before having her goons haul me squirming back to the cabin. Once there, I was held upside down over the toilet in their bathroom by two surprisingly toned and fit girls. With the door open and standing back about 20 feet in the other room, girls would drift in and out, taking turns throwing shooting nerf guns at the bullseye. With each hit, I'd get dunked and swirlied as if I was some nerd in an eighties movie.

"Step right up, step right up, folks! Hit the target and watch him wiggle!" A hyper active blonde barked.

Chelsea was happy to stand off the side and watch me shake my ass every time I got dunked. So overwhelmed with humiliation and stimulus overload, the only words running through my mind were: I'm never investigating girl scouts again. I'm never investigating girl scouts again...

This is great! Love that the girls were more than able to take these guys on.

Great work! Hope the next part comes soon!