Stories of Tie Up Games

When you get to my age, you learn to enjoy every day for the experiences it gives you – but the thing I was not expecting today was to be standing in my front room, looking at a young and obviously scared young man who is holding a knife and looking at me.


I had just got back from my Ladies’ Circle meeting, and had not even had a chance yet to take off my black leather jacket. I was wearing under that a sand-coloured jumper with a high neck, and then a long grey woollen skirt with matching tam trim, and a wide belt round my waist, while my legs were in a pair of high black leather boots.

I had been to the hairdresser yesterday, so my grey hair was styled short, as I looked at him through my glasses and said, “can I help you?”

“Yes, you can,” he said quietly, “you can hand me your handbag, and then put your hands up in the air.”

“Oh – and why should I do that?”

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, “I just want to take your valuables, and make sure you cannot raise the alarm. Please, give me your handbag.”

Well, he asked nicely, so I handed him my handbag and then raised my hands in the air.

“Thank you – now, slowly, remove your jewellery and put it in this bag.” He held up what I realized was one of my clean pillowcases, so I nodded as I started by removing my silver necklace and placing it in there, then mu gold earrings, followed by my rings and my watch.

“All right,” he said as he put the bag down, “you might as well be comfortable. Take your jacket off and put it on the armchair, then kneel in front of the couch and put your head down on the seat.”

Well, I did what he asked me to do, removing my jacket and placing it on the seat. I then knelt down, adjusting my skirt so I was not kneeling on the hem of my skirt, and then lowered my head to the seat cushion. I was aware of him walking over and kneeling behind me and then taking my hands behind my back before I felt rope rubbing on them as he bound them tightly together.

“I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said quietly, “but I need to make sure you really cannot raise the alarm.”

“Where did you find the rope,” I said as I felt my ankles being drawn together and heard a squeaking sound.

“In your kitchen – you’ll need to replace it now that I have cut it,” he said as I felt this hands taking the rope between my legs as well, and then he helped me to sit on the couch., allowing me to watch as he folded my skirt back and secured my legs together below my knees.

“You’re through - is this the first time you have done this?”

He stood up and shook his head as he took a longer rope and walked behind me, passing it round my body and drawing it tight under my chest.

As he wound it round my stomach and my upper arms, he said “is this the first time you have been tied up?”

“No,” I said quietly, “when I was a teenager…” As the ropes were pulled tighter, my mind went back to that occasion…

My parents had gone away for the weekend, and I was in the home on my own for the Saturday and Sunday. I was seventeen at the time, and figured there would be no problems – and certainly on the Saturday there were no problems. It was the Sunday afternoon that was different…

I had gone to the Chapel service that morning, and had lunch with one of my girlfriends and her family, so when they dropped me off I was still wearing my church clothes- a long sleeved white collarless blouse, a long tiered black peasant skirt with white dots and white trim on the three layers, and a pair of skintight black stack heeled leather boots that came up and over my knees.

My hair was very different than as well – long, and dark brown. Anyway, I remember being dropped off, and unlocking the front door to let myself in – and then closing the door, before a leather gloved hand was pressed down over my mouth, and a male voice whispered into my ear not to struggle or even make a sound.

I was surprised, shocked, scared, but all I could really do was to slowly nod as I was pulled into the front room. I noticed the blinds had been pulled down, as the voice told me to sit down on an old wooden rocking chair, and my hands palm down on the armrests.

I was frogmarched over and turned round, before I was pushed into the chair and had to steady myself as I looked at the man. He was tall, short grey hair, and dressed in black – including the satchel that he drew a ball of twine before he knelt beside me and wrapped the twine round my left wrist, holding it firmly down to the armrest as he took it round several times, and then walked in front of me, playing the twine out before he wrapped it round my other wrists and then cut the twine before he tied it off.

He then knelt down in front of me and started to tie my ankles together, as I looked at him doing it. That had been when I heard a squeaking sound like today before, as my legs rubbed against each other with the twine around and between my legs.

I tried to move them apart – with no luck – as he went behind me and I saw the twine going round my waist, forcing me against the back of the chair. He also tied it round my lap and the chair seat, before he put the twine away, and instead took out a roll of brown sticking plaster.

“Put your lips together.”

I just stared at him before he pressed the stirp down over my mouth. It certainly meant I could do nothing except mumble incoherently, watching him as he emptied the shelves of my father and mother’s silver collection, and then left the room. I tried to get free, but all I managed to do was rock in the chair – thew twine bit into my wrists as I tried to get my hands free, and the plaster was keeping me quiet.

A few minutes later, eh came back in, checked I was still unable to escape, and then left me. It was hours before my parents got home…


“I ask one favour,” I said as the man pulled the ropes tighter and kept my arms against my sides.

“What’s that?”

“Tell someone where I am. I have no other contacts….”

He nodded as he tied the ropes off, and then helped me to lie on my side, adjusting my skirt to protect my modesty before he peeled from a large roll a long length of white micropore tape.

“I’ll do that – now put your lips together.”

“Please, one more thing – put the television on as well.”

He nodded before he pressed the tape down over my mouth and then took the pillowcase from him after he had turned the television on. If I had to be still and quiet, I might as well see if there is anything good to watch – that Sunday in my youth the television always stayed off…

So, two tales for the price of one. Ever thought of being a sales person?

Xtc wrote: 3 months ago So, two tales for the price of one. Ever thought of being a sales person?

I'm not that good a persuader....