Stories of Tie Up Games

Miranda was a 40-year-old mother who lived alone with her 16-year-old son Michael. She was an 8th-grade English teacher at the local middle school. Miranda couldn't support herself and her son on a teacher's salary, so during the summers she worked as a gardener for some of the wealthier families in the neighborhood.

Michael was going into his junior year of high school and still had a hard time making friends. He was an old soul, and also was a bit of a nerd, and had a hard time connecting to kids his age. What made matters worse was the fact that his mom, Miranda, had taught most of the students in their high school when they were in 8th grade. Miranda was one of the hottest women in their neighborhood, and was incredibly popular among the middle school boys that Michael had grown up with. She had deep red hair, a sleek, foxy face, blue eyes, full lips, and an incredibly impressive chest and butt. This, alongside her sweet and loving personality, made her a local celebrity among most kids in the area. Michael found that most of the time, kids who were nice to him were just trying to become friendly with his mom.

Miranda knew it had been a hard few years for her son and knew part of the issue was her own popularity. In a perfect world, she'd have enough money to scoop her son onto a plane for a summer and take him to a place where the two of them could have some alone time. But she made plans to spend this summer like every summer, toiling away in the son for rich people instead of enjoying summer vacation with her son.

This was until one day Michael got a text from Bart, one of the few kids at school who actually thought of him as a friend. Bart was a year older than Michael.

"Hey man, is your mom free this next week?" The text started. Michael's stomach dropped. "Sorry if it's weird to ask you, but my parents want to know if she's willing to help me with my college essay. I wanted to ask Mr. B from school but he's out of the country."

Relieved that his friend seemed genuine, Michael responded. "I'll ask her. She's probably free after work."

"Work? She has the summer off."

"She is a gardener for extra money during the summer. She gets off around 4 or 5."

"Oh -- got it. I'll let my parents know. I'll have them call her. Thanks bud."

Next week, Miranda agreed to go by and help Bart at his house on her way back from work. It was on her normal route and she knew she'd be too tired to go back out once she had gotten home from working in the sun. Michael made dinner for himself and prepared an extra plate for is mom when she got back from Bart's. After waiting an hour later than Miranda had said she'd be back, he decided to text his friend.

"Hey -- did my mom leave yet? She's not home."

"She left like five minutes ago."

"That's pretty late -- did it take that long to write your essay? Not looking forward to doing that next year."

"It took a long time to get the essay done. I also had to do an arts/photography portfolio too. It was a beast."

"My mom's not an artist -- did she help you with that? How?"

"Like this."

A few seconds later, a series of photos popped up on Michael's phone. In the pictures, Miranda was lying on the floor, complete tied up -- her wrists were bound behind her back; her ankles, knees, and thighs were cinched together, and it looked like a rope had been used above and below her chest, making her breasts stick out of her flannel shirt that made Michael uncomfortable. To top it off, her mouth had been gagged. Michael could see a large wad of white cloth had been shoved into her mouth and secured by a blue bandana cleave gag.

"Bart what the hell did you do with my mom???" Michael clicked send. He could feel his face flushing and filling with heat when he heard the front door. Miranda walked in, exhausted, before placing her bag on the counter.

Michael held up his phone to his mother's face and demanded an explanation. Miranda asked him to calm down. Michael's phone went off again.

"It was her idea, I swear!" Michael's face scrunched up, confused.

Miranda explained that it was to help Bart finish his project. He wrote an essay about a time he saved a girl at camp from being kidnapped and bullied by a bunch of other kids. Bart was struggling with details in the story and didn't know what to do with the visual art part of the application. Miranda suggested maybe they recreate the event to help him write it, then Bart suggested they just take pictures of Miranda to do something fast for the visual piece -- he felt bad for keeping her late and wanted to send her home early. If anything, Miranda explained, Bart was being a gentleman. Uncomfortable with the idea, but satisfied with the explanation, Michael decided to let it go.

Michael woke up the next day to a surprise. His mom wasn't at work. Instead, she was sunbathing in a light blue bikini. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she had sunglasses on. Michael went down to remind her to get to work, but Miranda told him it was okay. She explained she may have found a new summer job tutoring college essays, and then she had an appointment in the afternoon with a new client from Michael's school. Miranda guessed that Bart's parents had recommended her to another family, who recommended her to someone else, because by the time she woke up she had enough requests for tutoring to fill her whole summer. The pay was so much better, in fact, that they'd be able to go on a trip before school started.

Michael was about to ask a few more questions before the door bell rang. He went inside to answer it. When he opened the door, Clark, a popular kid from Michael's school, walked in excitedly. They weren't friends -- Clark was 18 years old and about to go off to college that fall. "Hey Mike! Good to see ya killer. Your mom home?"

Before Michael could respond, Miranda entered the living room, drying her hair with a towel. "Hi Clark! I thought our appointment isn't until 5:00 p.m..."

"It was. But there was an emergency that I have to deal with this afternoon and I think this is the only time I have open today, so I was actually wondering if we could meet now? Did you by chance read my essay?"

"I did..." Miranda walked up to the door and put her hands on her hips. "It's a pretty good start. You said it's for a scholarship contest? Who is putting the contest on?"

"A duct tape company. The essay title has to be 'A Sticky Situation,' and the rest we can make up ourselves."

"That's clever. Also makes sense with your story -- I thought the bungling burglar was quite charming. Sure we can go ahead and meet now. Just give me a moment to change."

"Thank you Ms. M! But would it be okay if we went ahead and started? I really have to be somewhere soon and I don't have a lot of time."

Miranda was a little nervous meeting with a student while so exposed. She stood shifting side-to-side for a moment before shrugging. "Very well. Let's get to work."

"Great!" Clark walked in and placed a bag on the coffee table, pulling two rolls of silver duct tape out. "I have to get that opening scene perfect in the essay, so I was wondering if we could start there." Clark walked up to Miranda and pulled her hands behind her back, immediately beginning to wrap her wrists tightly with the tape.

"Woah there...I, um...Okay sure we can start there." Miranda looked nervously at Michael who was watching concerned from the kitchen. "Michael, you should head up to your room. We'll be alright here. I'll call you if we need anything." Clark continued taping Miranda's elbows together, forcing her chest to protrude out against her bikini top. "Oof. That's tight, she said."

"You sure mom?" Michael did not enjoy watching Clark with his hands on his mother, but also didn't want to get in the way of his mom's new job opportunity. Began wrapping the tape around Miranda's torso, fixing her wrists to the small of her back.

"I'm sure, sweetie. We'll just be an hour or so."

Michael begrudgingly went upstairs to his room, concerned to be leaving his mom alone with a guy he barely knew.

Miranda waited for the sound of Michael's closing bedroom door. "So, um, Clark. What is the plan here? I can't really give you too many notes on what you've written if I can't use my hands."

"I think at this stage I don't really need notes, Ms. M. I think I just need inspiration to help me start drafting..." Clark leaned down and began taping Miranda's ankles, thighs, and knees together. The 40-year-old teacher and mom let out a slight squeal as she felt herself close to tipping over. Clark took her shoulders in his hands to keep her steady. "Don't worry -- I've got you!" Clark grinned in front of the bound older woman. "We'll get this essay done in no time.

"About that..." Miranda shifted in her bonds, looking down uncomfortable at the way her body bulged out against the pressure of the tape. "If this is a story you've made up for the contest, it's technically not an essay. It's fiction. An essay has to be based on something that's actually ha--HFMPH!!" Miranda was interrupted by a large wad of some cloth being pressed into her open mouth.

"Put a sock in it, Ms. M!" Clark grinned. "I'm trying that line out in the essay. Using socks for authenticity too!"

"Hmphfffmmmmmmm..." Miranda furrowed her eyebrows nervously as she took the massive sock into her mouth, closing her lips around it with considerable effort. She eyed Clark walking behind her with apprehension.

"Hope it's okay it's not clean. I was really in a rush today." Just as Miranda was about to spit the sock out in response, Clark began wrapping layer after layer of duct tape around her lips and head, completely sealing her mouth completely. Miranda mewled helplessly into the gag, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. She didn't like where this appointment was going, and definitely didn't trust the way Clark's eyes began to move up and down her exposed, half-naked body. His gaze hovered over her thighs, then her drooping, massive cleavage.

"We have a lot to get to in this first scene, Ms. M." Clark pulled out a piece of paper. "I don't know if you've seen the rewrite I did before I got here. There's a lot going on. We'll start with the chase where you try to hop away from the burglar. Then we'll get to the punishment for when he -- I guess I -- catch you. I'm torn between spanking and maybe something a little more mature. What do you think?"

"Hmmphffhhm hmm..." Miranda hung her head in defeat, shifting futilely against the inescapable tape holding her body helpless. Looking up at Clark, she thought of her son upstairs, about the vacation she never got to go on with him, and nodded her head weakly.

"Excellent," said Clark. "Best money I've ever spent."

Wow, great start!

Great story, all my English teachers in high school were 80 year old males so no help with essays here, thank you very much.

Great start and an interesting premise, liked your descriptions of Miranda being tied.

Terrific story, I am sure there is more to come.

Wow! This is great!
Miranda is a very giving tutor to many of Michael’s peers. It wouldn’t surprise me if she agreed to play the damsel role for one big production for all of her scholars!

Awesome story!!

Nice way of tutoring!

Chapter 2:

Michael knocked on his mom’s bathroom door. “Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetie. I’m just taking a bath to reset.” Miranda leaned down deeper into the warm water of her bath, feeling her tight muscles start to loosen. “You don’t worry about me.” Michael sighed and went back to his room, still very much worried about his mother.

Only a few hours ago, he had come down the stairs to find her taped up, heavily gagged, hopping frantically away from Clark in nothing but her bikini. Michael couldn’t get the image of the way her body bounced up and down for everyone to see. Even after making her nod to him that everything was okay, Michael went back upstairs, just out of sight from the living room, and listened heavily to what was going on for the rest of the tutoring session. He heard Clark rough voice encouraging Miranda to try and “be more believable” as a damsel and distress, resulting in some muffled screams from his mom into the tape around her mouth and head. He assumed Clark was filming, which made him uncomfortable. “Good, let’s do it again with a close-up.” he heard Clark say, followed by another dramatic mewl from his mother.

For a while, he heard nothing. Just a few mumbled whimpers from his gagged mother, then finally a triumphant “Sweet!” from Clark. “I think I revised the whole thing in like eight minutes.” He heard a sigh of relief from his gagged mom. “We have like 10 minutes left in the hour though.” Miranda made a confused sound into the tape.

“I’m going to take a few more pictures in case I want to revisit the story later.” Clark said. Michael could hear the sound of duct tape being pulled off a roll. Michael winced as he heard his mom try and fail to convince Clark to let her free for the last few minutes. He had never heard her voice sound so upset, let alone the odd, alien sound of her voice muffled by socks and tape. After a few moments of tape pulling, strained grunting from Miranda, and a couple of loyd “smacks” and “slap” sounds that Michael couldn’t figure out, he heard a few more moments of quiet. Finally, a timer ringer sound through the house.

“Unfortunately, I guess that’s our time.” Clark sounded like he was packing his backpack up. “I really can’t begin to describe how helpful this was, Ms. M. I’m going to put in a good word with all the other seniors from school who are applying to college.” Michael heard his mother groan into her gag. “I’m guessing little Mike can help you out of all the tape – I really have to get going.”

After the sound of a disgruntled, helpless moan from Miranda and the thud of the closing door, it was quiet again. Michael quickly rushed downstairs to help his mom. Upon seeing her, Michael stopped – shocked.

Miranda, with her red hair tied up in a bun and still in her skimpy blue bikini, was hogtied with duct tape. She was lying on her stomach, her wrists forced behind her, her ankles taped together and pulled up into the air by several rounds of tape that traveled the course of her body, over her butt and back, and encircled around her already heavily taped up face. Her head was pulled up and back by the long loop of tape, forcing her to arch up uncomfortably against the tension. Her skin was dripping sweat as she struggled to free herself. Michael felt himself go cold, and began untying his mother as delicately and as quickly as he could.

Hours later, after checking on her in the bathroom, Michael retreated to his bedroom and tried playing video games to distract himself. His mom walked in a while later, dressed in her bathrobe. “Hey honey,” she said.

“Hey.” Michael stayed trained on his computer monitor.

“I know that was really uncomfortable for both of us. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay. Well you know you can talk to me if you need to.” Miranda folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t think tutoring was going to be…like that. But I did read the final draft of Clark’s essay, and, well, it’s honestly very good.” Miranda paused for a moment. “So maybe it does work to be so…interactive as a tutor.”

“Maybe.” Michael said, clearly upset.

“Maybe.” Miranda trailed off, eyeing her sun with a worried, furrowed brow. “Well. If it makes you feel better, I can just schedule the sessions when you’re not at home. Or I can go to clients’ houses instead.”

Michael paused for a moment. “I think for now that’d be best.”

“Okay. Well we’ll start doing it that way.” Miranda paused. “Well, I’ve got to get going soon darling. I have a session with another student this evening at their art studio.”

“How late is that going to be?”

“Just an hour or two. He has a visual arts scholarship he’s applying for. So the essay should be pretty interesting at least.”

“I bet it will be.”

Great Exciting story, Pushed most of the rugby buttons, keep the short stories Cuming.

WOW I surely never had a tutor like Miranda, all my tutors were prigs and only wanted to talk school stuff, algebra, geometry, trigonometry accounting theory, tax theory, Why the French always threw their rifles down an surrendered to the Germans. They never once talked rope and tape theory, The correct use of gags within the environment of the human mouth. Etc etc etc.

They just talked the boring stuff and no "Work It Up Sessions"

Great continuation, still liking the bondage descriptions. Please keep it going

TapeTurtle wrote: 2 weeks ago
Miranda folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t think tutoring was going to be…like that. But I did read the final draft of Clark’s essay, and, well, it’s honestly very good.” Miranda paused for a moment. “So maybe it does work to be so…interactive as a tutor.”

Wanted to highlight this small part from Miranda, liked that you added it in, helps tie the story together, showing it isn't just bondage for the sake of it but apparently the bindings are working as intended.

Truly excellent Part!

Where were these types of teachers when I was in high school?!?!

If anyone has ideas on what kind of “tutoring” they’d like to see Miranda do, please send me a message!

TapeTurtle wrote: 2 weeks ago If anyone has ideas on what kind of “tutoring” they’d like to see Miranda do, please send me a message!

I am, sure I can come up with one or two Ideas Fine Story!

TapeTurtle wrote: 2 weeks ago If anyone has ideas on what kind of “tutoring” they’d like to see Miranda do, please send me a message!

Love the story can't wait for another chapter. Are you still taking recommendations?

Home School Studies.

Wish I had this kind of "tutoring".

TapeTurtle wrote: 2 weeks ago If anyone has ideas on what kind of “tutoring” they’d like to see Miranda do, please send me a message!

A difficult subject, so the students would have to EARN the right to tie her up. I mean, REALLY earn it...

Maybe she needs to play a part in a short film for the boys and their film class.

Great and Awesome Story

Great story!!! Very creative and original.

For the next clients, Miranda could be impersonating an uncooperative burglar victim, who has to be tickle tortured to reveal the passcode to access a safe. So, the client would want to try different positions to see the effectivity of the torture in each case, and therefore selecting the best bondage position for the essay.