Stories of Tie Up Games

Danny dragged the chair into the kitchen. “Bathroom break after lunch unless you are desperate.” Amber shook her head and Danny began to unwrap the gag from her head. Once the soaked cloth was out Danny held a straw to her nieces mouth.

“Drink this, you need to stay hydrated, I’m not trying to kill you after all, just keeping you tied tied up here for a bit of fun.” Amber sipped the water gratefully. It had been hours since she had had anything to drink and her throat felt like it was on fire. Danny laughed as she drank. “I bet you’re wondering what’s next right?” She winked and ruffled Amber’s hair before walking away.

Danny returned with a plate of sandwiches and a bowl of crisps. She set them down on the kitchen table and took a seat across from Amber. She picked up a sandwich and took a bite, watching her niece with amusement. Amber’s stomach growled loudly. Danny smirked, “Would you like one?” Amber nodded vigorously and Danny picked up a sandwich with one hand, holding it out to her with the other.

With her eyes still blindfolded and hands and body still taped to the chair, Amber had to lean forward awkwardly to take a bite, sniffing where the chicken was. The bread was soft, fresh baked and the filling was slightly peppery with salad bland and she ate it greedily, her hunger overpowering any discomfort. Danny chewed slowly, savouring her meal as she studied Amber. “Now I have more surprises for you this afternoon. How’s it been so far?” She asked, her tone like she was discussing the weather, or a mundane day at school.


Amber felt a shiver at the question. She was having a wonderful time but what kind games did her aunt have planned? The homework locks in the cupboard underneath the stairs had not been fun but she realised a necessity. She took a deep breath and said in a steady voice, “It’s been wonderful. But did you really have to tie me up for homework?” Danny laughed, the sound echoing through the empty house.

“Oh, that was one way to keep your mind focussed on, darling. Shall I suggest mum and nan do that all the time. Now, let’s see if you’re ready for the next part of our little adventure.” Danny stood up and moved behind Amber, her hand tracing the tape that held her wrists to the chair.

With careful gentleness, she began to cut the tape. Amber flinched at the coldness of the scissors against her skin but remained otherwise still, her heart racing in anticipation. The tape came away with a sticky sound, and Danny said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. We don’t want to ruin that pretty skin yet now, do we?” Amber felt a strange mix of fear and excitement at the word "yet," but she kept her thoughts to herself. Her hands were finally free, and she was delighted to be able to stretch and wiggle her fingers.

Danny grabbed her arm and led her, blindfolded, to the bathroom. The cool floor tiles felt refreshing under her bare feet, and she heard the door click shut behind them. “Usual rules. 10 minutes. No funny business. Pop your blindfold on stand back to the door and call when you’re ready. I’ll be right outside,” she warned, her voice playful yet firm. Amber nodded, the fabric of the blindfold brushing against her nose as she moved her head.

Once the door was closed, Amber slowly removed the blindfold. Looking into the mirror, she saw the marks from the gag imprinted on her cheeks, surrounded by a sticky mess of saliva and sweat. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of her dishevelled reflection. Her hair was even more of a tangled mess than usual, sweat plastered to her skin, and her face was flushed from the struggle. She took a deep breath and turned on the tap, the fell of cool water most refreshing.

Amber splashed cold water on her face, feeling the sting of it on her sensitive skin. She took a moment to appreciate the simple act of being able to wash away the grime from her ordeal. The bathroom smelled faintly of her aunt's perfume. As strange as she knew it was, she couldn't help but feel a thrill at the excitement of the unknown. It was a break from the mundane routine of school and chores, and she found herself craving more of this unexpected adventure.

Once she had cleaned up as best she could, Amber slipped the blindfold back on, took a deep breath and called out to Danny. The door opened, and Danny's smiling face appeared in the frame. "Ready for the next part of the fun?" she asked, her voice filled with mischief. Amber nodded eagerly, and Danny led her back to the lounge, guiding her by the elbow as if she were a contestant on a game show.

Danny directed her to the floor and instructed her to lie on her tummy. Amber felt the deep pile of the rug against her thighs and cheek as she complied, her heart racing. Danny's footsteps , slapping on the wood block, retreated for a moment before returning, the sound of something being dragged along with them. "Remember, no peeking," she said, placing a pillow under Amber's chin. Then, she began to tie Amber's wrists and elbows with rope, securing her in place. Amber's mind raced, trying to imagine what could be in store for her, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

“How flexible are you?” Asked Danny straining to pull Ambers Arms together.

Amber felt her elbows touch, uncomfortable but not painful. She gritted her teeth and nodded, not sure if she was reassuring herself or her aunt. Danny’s grip was firm, and the ropes dug slightly into her skin, but she remained silent, not wanting to give her aunt the fear of causing any real discomfort. As Danny tightened the knots, Amber felt a strange sensation of vulnerability and excitement mingle together. This was definitely not a typical afternoon, and she found herself strangely looking forward to what would happen next, as Danny tied her forearms together, with ropes just above and below her elbows.

Once her arms were bound, Danny proceeded to tie the ropes around her chest, creating a makeshift harness that made it difficult for Amber to move her upper body. She was aware of her breathing, shallow and quick, as the ropes tightened. It was surprisingly comforting, almost like a warm embrace that she hadn’t realized she needed. She felt a strange sense of trust in her aunt, despite the unorthodox situation. Danny was known for her gentle nature, but there was a roughness in the way she was securing her that Amber hadn’t experienced before.

Next, Danny bent her legs at the knee and tied her ankles together, crossing them in an intricate pattern before securing them to her bound wrists. The rope was tight, but not too tight, leaving just enough room for Amber to wiggle slightly. “Alright, let’s see how well you can hold still,” Danny said, a hint of challenge in her voice. Amber took a deep breath and focused on the sensation of the ropes against her skin, the way they held her in place without causing pain. Next Danni did something which seemed odd. First on her right foot, then her left, she tied Amber’s big toe to the shin of the opposite leg.

Amber felt the stretch but it was a good one, like yoga she had done in PE class. “Comfortable?” Danny asked, a smirk playing on her lips. Amber was anything but, however she nodded as much as she could, given the new constraints, eager to find out what her aunt had planned. Danny stepped back to admire her handiwork, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You’re going to be my little butterfly for a while,” she said, her voice light and playful. The ropes criss-crossed over Amber’s body, creating a pattern that reminded her of a butterfly’s wings.

Danny grabbed a clean white sock and pushed it into Amber’s mouth, filling it completely. The taste was strange, and the sensation of having something so large in her mouth was unpleasant, but she was getting used to such gags; she was after all in no position to argue. Before she could react, Danny pulled out a roll of duct tape and began to wrap it around her head, sealing the gag in place. The sticky tape muffled any sounds she might have made, and she felt a sudden panic as the room grew quieter, her ability to communicate now almost entirely taken away. However, she knew that she had agreed to this game, and she was determined to play it out.

Danny sat cross legged behind Amber. ‘I thought it was time for a bit of torture. What do you think Amber?” she whispered into her ear, her voice cheerful and slightly cheeky. Amber’s heart was racing at the word “torture”, then she felt something in the soles of her feet. As Danny’s fingers ran over her bare feet Amber realised what had happened to her. With her ankles crossed and pulled up so her heels touched her bottom, her legs were spread wide and her feet immobile. She could not crawl away, could not roll over, could not flex her legs to pull her feet away from the tortuous fingers. Her aunts fingers were on her feet, tracing patterns, and with her toes tied to her shins she could not even flex them to minimise the contact. It was perfect, and it was clear that Danny knew exactly what she was doing, her movements to tie her so precisely had her helpless and controlled. There was nothing she could do to avoid the tickle torture. Nothing at all. She had to endure anything her aunt chose to do to her.

Nice to see Amber back. Hopefully a teaser for more. I love her toes tied to her shins. Inescapable

This was great fun to read - and I am looking forward to a Continuation!

Looking forward to what comes next

TightsBound wrote: 5 months ago Looking forward to what comes next

Agreed!

What a complete sadist you are (lol) tying the poor girl up and then making her do her school work and then you tickle torture her afterwards! Bravo on the story and thanks for sharing it with us all!

anny sat cross legged behind Amber. ‘I thought it was time for a bit of torture. What do you think Amber?” she whispered into her ear, her voice cheerful and slightly cheeky. Amber’s heart was racing at the word “torture”, then she felt something in the soles of her feet. As Danny’s fingers ran over her bare feet Amber realised what had happened to her. With her ankles crossed and pulled up so her heels touched her bottom, her legs were spread wide and her feet immobile. She could not crawl away, could not roll over, could not flex her legs to pull her feet away from the tortuous fingers. Her aunts fingers were on her feet, tracing patterns, and with her toes tied to her shins she could not even flex them to minimise the contact. It was perfect, and it was clear that Danny knew exactly what she was doing, her movements to tie her so precisely had her helpless and controlled. There was nothing she could do to avoid the tickle torture. Nothing at all. She had to endure anything her aunt chose to do to her.

Amber's breath hitched as Danny's fingertips danced feather-light along her arch, skimming the sensitive skin with deliberate, maddening slowness. She clenched her jaw, determined not to laugh—not yet—but her toes strained uselessly against their binds, the soft loops of rope biting into her skin. Danny chuckled, a low, knowing sound that sent a shiver down Amber's spine. "Oh, sweetheart, you're already twitching," she purred, dragging a single nail down the center of Amber's sole, igniting a spark of sensation that made her hips jerk involuntarily.

The second pass was worse—Danny's fingers spidered up the ball of Amber's foot, circling the tender spot beneath her toes in tight, relentless spirals. A giggle burst free before Amber could stop it, sharp and breathless, and Danny's grin widened. "There it is," she cooed, shifting to scrape her nails lightly over Amber's heel. The sensation was electric, a dizzying mix of pleasure and torment that had Amber writhing, her laughter growing louder, more desperate. The ropes held firm, keeping her trapped in the sweet, helpless agony her aunt orchestrated so effortlessly.

Danny paused just long enough to watch Amber pant, her chest rising and falling rapidly, before she leaned in close, her breath warm against Amber's ear. "Tell me, Amber.l she murmured, her voice dripping with mischief, "how long do you think you can last?" Before Amber could answer, Danny's thumbs dug into the arches of both feet at once, pressing hard and rolling in slow, torturous circles. Amber's back arched off the floor, a wild laugh tearing from her throat as the sensation overwhelmed her, her body shaking with the effort to escape the unbearable, delicious pressure.

The ropes creaked as Amber twisted, her laughter turning breathless and ragged. Danny's fingers moved with practiced precision—one moment skimming lightly, the next pinching just enough to make Amber yelp, then switching to rapid, fluttering strokes that left her gasping. "You're so cute like this," Danny teased, her own cheeks flushed with excitement. "All flushed and squirming, and entirely at my mercy." She punctuated the words by dragging her fingernails up Amber's soles in one swift, merciless motion, eliciting a shriek that dissolved into helpless giggles.

Amber's vision was a stream of imagined horrors, visualising what her aunt was doing or going to do next, her thighs trembling as the sensations built to an unbearable peak. She could feel every move of Danny's fingertips, every shift in pressure, as if her nerves had been dialed up to eleven. "Aunt Danny—please—" she tried to gasp between laughs, and even though everything was muffled to incomprehensible by the massive gag, she wasn't sure if she was begging for mercy or more. Danny's answering hum was playful, dark with promise, as she leaned down to blow a slow, teasing stream of air across Amber's damp, overheated skin. The coolness was its own kind of torment, raising goosebumps before Danny's fingertips descended again, relentless.

Just when Amber thought she couldn't take another second, Danny's hands vanished—the sudden absence of sensation almost worse than the tickling itself. Amber strained against the ropes, breath hitching in panic, her mind racing with possibilities. It was useless . Trussed so tightly, so awkwardly any move,emt besides shaking her head or wiggling toes and fingers was useless; and thise minor movements were futloe.

The silence stretched, suddenly broken by the rustle of fabric and the soft tap-tap of something wooden against skin: her aunts barefeet on the polished wood floor. Then—without warning—two pointy, unyielding cocktail sticks traced feather-light lines from her heels to her toes. The sensation was electric, sharper than fingers, more precise, igniting fresh spasms of laughter that left her writhing.

Amber jerked instinctively, but the ropes held firm, forcing her to endure the cruel, deliberate strokes. The sticks danced—sometimes tapping, sometimes dragging—each movement calculated to maximize her torment. Danny hummed tunelessly as she worked, shifting between slow, lingering scrapes and rapid-fire jabs that made Amber’s breath hitch with shocked laughter.
Then Danni began to ise the sticks to trace the wrinkles in Amber’s soles. This new methid of torment was excuciating. A particularly wicked flick to the center of her arch tore a high-pitched squeal from Amber’s throat, muffled but unmistakable. Danny paused, tilting her head as if admiring her handiwork. "Oh, that spot’s *sensitive*, isn’t it?" she mused, pressing the tip of the stick there again—just hard enough to make Amber’s legs spasm. Every nerve in Amber’s feet felt like it was sparking, her laughter dissolving into breathless whimpers as the sticks traced nonsensical patterns, each stroke dialing her desperation higher.

“You do know all kidnap cictims get tortured dont you? Some to make people pay up faster. Some for information. But in your case, im torturing you just because im a bad girl!l”

Amber could feel her aunt's grin even through the blindfold, the playful malice in her voice sending another wave of delicious dread through her body. A particularly sharp jab between her toes sent Amber’s head thrashing back against the floor, her muffled shriek dissolving into gasps. She could feel her aunt grinning above her—could almost hear the delight in her breath—as the sticks switched to scribbling tight, erratic circles over her arches. Every nerve felt raw, oversensitive, like her skin had been peeled back and exposed. Amber’s thighs trembled violently, her body caught between the desperate urge to escape and the helpless, shuddering surrender to the pleasure-pain of it all.

The cocktail sticks disappeared—only for something softer, brush-like to take their place, skimming up her arches in quick, erratic strokes. Feathers? No—the texture was firmer, more deliberate. A hairbrush? The bristles caught every nerve ending just wrong, the unpredictable pattern making her stomach muscles clench with each pass.

Danny's laughter was low and wicked as she pressed the brush harder into Amber’s sole, dragging it slowly from heel to toe in one excruciating line. "You’re gonna love this part," she sang, before suddenly switching to rapid, staccato flicks against Amber’s arch. The sensation was unbearable, a relentless assault that had Amber’s laughter dissolving into hiccupping sobs, her chest heaving as she strained pointlessly against her bonds.

Just when the torment felt endless, Danny paused, the brush hovering just above Amber’s trembling foot. The silence was thick with anticipation, broken only by Amber’s ragged breaths. Then—a slow, deliberate scrape of the bristles along her most ticklish spot, right beneath the toes. Amber’s entire body convulsed, her scream muffled by the gag but no less desperate. Danny chuckled darkly, "Oh, that’s the spot, huh?" She circled it mercilessly, watching Amber’s hips buck helplessly against the ropes.

The brush vanished, replaced by a sharp clink—ice cubes tumbling onto a metal tray. Amber’s pulse spiked at the sound, her mind racing. Cold? After all that heat? Before she could brace, the first cube grazed the arch of her foot, its slick, freezing touch shocking her nerves into fresh overdrive. She gasped, her toes straining uselessly against their binds as the cube melted, leaving a trail of icy wetness that made her skin prickle. Danny traced the cube in slow, maddening spirals, the cold somehow heightening every ticklish sensation until Amber was whimpering, her laughter breathless and broken.

Just as the cold began to numb her skin, Danny pressed a fresh cube to the spot beneath Amber’s toes—this time holding it there, letting the icy burn seep deep. Amber’s back arched off the floor, a strangled cry escaping the gag. The contrast was unbearable: the sharp, biting cold followed by Danny’s warm fingers skimming over the damp skin, reigniting the ticklish fire. "Feel that?" Danny murmured, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she dragged a half-melted cube along Amber’s sole, leaving a shivering, hypersensitive trail. "Cold makes everything... sharper, doesn’t it?"

The next cube traced a slow, wet path down Amber’s thigh, the freezing rivulets trickling toward her knee. She jerked instinctively, but the ropes held her wide open, vulnerable. Danny’s tongue clicked in mock disapproval. "Tsk. You’re supposed to stay still," she chided, pressing the cube harder into the tender skin of Amber’s inner thigh—just shy of cruel, just shy of enough to numb. The sensation was electric, a dizzying mix of pain and ticklish torment that left Amber’s legs trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Another cube followed the curve of her calf, melting in erratic streams that Danny chased with her fingertips, the contrast between cold and warmth maddening. Amber’s muscles twitched uncontrollably, her laughter hiccupping into a whimper as the ice skimmed the back of her knee—that soft, secret spot that always made her squirm. Danny’s chuckle was dark with satisfaction. "Oh, you *hate* this part," she murmured, swirling the cube there until Amber’s toes curled and her hips bucked against the ropes, her skin pebbling with goosebumps.

The torture migrated upward—a fresh cube pressed to the dip of Amber’s elbow, icy trails snaking down her forearm as Danny blew warm breath over the damp skin. Amber shuddered, her fingers clenching and unclenching uselessly, the sensation of cold-wet-warm-tickle leaving her gasping. Then came the cruelest twist yet: Danny dragged the melting ice along Amber’s ribs, pausing to let each drop linger before moving to her neck; the sudden shock sending Amber into convulsive giggles. "Stop—*stop*," she begged through the gag, though her thrashing legs betrayed how much she didn’t mean it.

Next, Danny traced the cube down Amber’s spine, the freezing path making her arch off the floor with a muffled shriek. The cold seeped into her skin, amplifying every nerve ending—so when Danny’s fingers fluttered over her ribs again, Amber squirmed violently, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Her aunt chuckled, pressing the melting remnant between Amber’s shoulder blades. "Cold makes you *twitchy*," she murmured, dragging her nails lightly through the wet trails—hot-cold-hot-cold—until Amber was breathless, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Then came the fork—timy metal prongs scraping lightly, teasingly over the arch of Amber’s foot. The sensation was sharper than fingers, more deliberate, sending jolts of ticklish electricity up her legs. Danny dragged it in slow, jagged lines, pausing to press the blunt end into the dip of Amber’s heel just hard enough to make her gasp. The contrast—smooth metal against hypersensitive skin—was unbearable. Amber’s laughter turned ragged, her thighs trembling as the fork zigzagged toward her toes, each tiny scrape dialing her desperation higher.

Danny switched tactics suddenly, running the fork’s edge along the delicate ridge of Amber’s sole, the cool metal amplifying every nerve’s response. Amber jerked, her breath hitching as the prongs traced lazy circles around the ball of her foot, teasing the skin without mercy. Then—without warning—Danny flicked the fork upward, skimming the tender space between Amber’s toes. The sharp, pinpoint contact tore a shriek from her throat, muffled by the gag but no less desperate. Danny chuckled, dragging the fork back down in a slow, torturous spiral. "Every inch of your feet is so *reactive*," she purred, tapping the prongs against Amber’s arch like a metronome, each tap syncing with Amber’s frantic pulse.

The fork dipped into the hollow of her heel, pressing just hard enough to make Amber whimper before Danny dragged it upward in quick, staccato strokes. The sensation was electric—too fast to brace for, too erratic to predict—leaving Amber’s muscles twitching in helpless overstimulation. When the prongs reached her toes, Danny twisted the fork, scraping the flat side along Amber’s sensitive pads in one excruciating sweep. Amber’s back arched off the floor, her laughter dissolving into hiccupping gasps as the metal teased her skin with relentless precision. "You’re *adorable* like this," Danny murmured, punctuating her words with another slow drag of the fork, this time tracing the outline of Amber’s foot as if marking her territory.

Then—Amber heard a click and a buzz, the unmistakable whir of an electric toothbrush powering up. Her breath hitched, pulse hammering in her throat. *No. Not that.* The vibrations were always worse than fingers—deeper, more insistent, impossible to ignore. Danny’s grin was audible as she pressed the bristles to the very center of Amber’s arch, letting the rapid pulses radiate outward in dizzying waves. The sensation was instant, overwhelming: a thousand tiny needles of pleasure-pain dancing under her skin. Amber’s legs spasmed, her laughter pitching higher, wilder, as the toothbrush circled relentlessly, amplifying every ticklish nerve until her entire body thrummed with frantic energy.

Danny switched angles, tilting the brush to drag the vibrating edge along Amber’s most sensitive spot—right beneath her toes. The effect was catastrophic: Amber’s back arched off the floor, a strangled scream tearing from her throat as the vibrations ricocheted up her legs, leaving her trembling and gasping. The brush flicked upward, tracing the delicate webbing between her toes, each buzz sending jolts of sensation that made her hips jerk uncontrollably. "Oooh, *that’s* the spot," Danny cooed, pressing harder, watching Amber’s toes strain futilely against their binds, her entire body shaking with the effort to endure the unbearable delight.

The toothbrush migrated downward, humming against the hollow of Amber’s heel, the vibrations sinking deep into the bone. Amber’s laughter dissolved into breathless whimpers, her muscles twitching in erratic spasms as the bristles flicked rapidly back and forth, amplifying every nerve’s scream. Danny chuckled darkly, pausing just long enough to blow a stream of cool air over the overheated skin—then dove back in, circling the brush in tight, relentless spirals around Amber’s arch. The sensation was merciless, a dizzying onslaught that left Amber’s vision swimming, her thighs slick with sweat as she thrashed against the ropes.

Then came the twist—Danny’s fingers pried Amber’s toes apart just enough to slot the rotating head snugly between them. The moment the bristles made contact with that hypersensitive webbing, Amber’s body convulsed, her scream muffled but visceral. The vibrations ricocheted through the delicate skin, each pulse sharpened by the tight, confined space, ratcheting the ticklish agony to unbearable heights. Danny’s grip tightened, holding the brush in place as Amber’s hips bucked wildly, her breaths coming in ragged, hiccupping gasps. “Ohhh, you *love* this part,” Danny teased, twisting the brush just slightly to amplify the torment, watching Amber’s toes clench and flex against their binds in futile resistance.

Amber shook her head and screamed. This was the ultimate torture. Unbearable, relentless.
Danny just laughed and held the toothbrush in place, letting the vibrations sink into Amber’s toes, occasionally shifting to a different pair of toes but never shiwing any hisnt of stopping.

Amber’s toes curled against the rope binding them, straining uselessly as the vibrations sent electric jolts up her legs. Danny watched with wicked fascination as Amber’s body jerked in erratic spasms, her laughter dissolving into breathless, hiccupping sobs. The toothbrush buzzed louder, nestling deeper between her toes—each pulse sharpened by the confined space, amplifying the ticklish fire until.

Then, abruptly, the vibrations stopped. Amber sagged against the ropes, her chest heaving as she gulped air, her skin slick with sweat. Danny tapped the toothbrush against her own palm, a slow smirk spreading across her face. "Alright, wildcat," she sighed, stretching her arms overhead like a bored cat. "I *could* keep going—"

Amber's muffled whimper was half-plea, half-protest, her toes still twitching from phantom vibrations. Danny chuckled and leaned in, her breath warm against Amber's ear. "Tell you what. Bathroom break? Water? Maybe..." she trailed off, dragging a fingertip down Amber's damp thigh—slow, teasing. "Unless you'd rather skip it."

That’s pure torture. I’m not a big one for being tickled but that sounds like pure torture.

Love it.

Glad I looked back a couple pages. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this one. Might be my favorite of all time. Very descriptive. Author must have been tied up a time or two (or just though about it ALOT). Can't wait for next entry!