Stories of Tie Up Games

"I can't believe it," Karen murmured to herself, staring at the screen. The words 'Your services are no longer required' seemed to pulse with each beat of her racing heart. "How am I supposed to pay the rent now?" She glanced around the tiny apartment, her eyes settling on the half-eaten dinner she had barely touched.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, Laura. "Hey, how's it going?" Laura had always been the cheerful one, but tonight, Karen couldn't muster a lie. She replied with a simple, "Not good."

Karen leaned back in her chair, the cold reality of her situation seeping in. Thirty-five years old and jobless. The weight of the world bore down on her shoulders, and she felt the walls closing in. Panic began to set in, a tightness in her chest that she hadn't felt since her last breakup.

"What do I do?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The silence of the room was her only companion, echoing her fear and desperation. It was then that she spotted the news article on her phone about a recent string of burglaries in the area. Her eyes narrowed as a plan began to form, a plan she never thought she would consider. But desperation had a way of changing people.

With trembling hands, Karen pulled out a dusty stocking mask from the back of her drawer. It was an old Halloween costume, but tonight it would serve a more sinister purpose. She slipped on the leather gloves she had bought earlier, feeling the smooth material against her skin, and grabbed the zip ties and a roll of duct tape. The cold, plastic feeling of the zip ties made her stomach turn, but she pushed the thought away, focusing on the prize.

The house she had chosen was a small, two-story building at the end of the street. A young woman in her mid-twenties lived there, according to her neighbors. Karen had noticed that she often left the living room window open, even when she was out. It was a clear invitation, and Karen felt a strange thrill at the ease of the opportunity.

The night air was thick with the scent of rain as she approached the house. She checked the street for any signs of life, but it was eerily quiet. The porch light was off, a beacon of darkness beckoning her closer. The soft thud of her heart in her chest was the only sound she could hear as she scaled the fence, her breaths coming in short, shallow bursts.

Once inside, she found the layout as she had expected from her days of careful observation. The living room was cluttered but clean, a sign of a life lived in the chaos of youth. She moved swiftly, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and found the stairs leading to the bedroom. The sound of her heart echoed in her ears as she tiptoed up, each creak of the floorboard a silent scream of guilt and fear.

The bedroom door was ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. Karen took a deep breath, readying herself for what was about to happen. She stepped in, the plan clear in her mind. But as she raised the cloth to cover the sleeping woman's mouth, she saw a picture on the nightstand. It was the woman with a group of friends, all of them smiling and carefree.

Karen's hand hovered, the cloth and tape suddenly feeling heavier than she had ever imagined. The room was filled with a sudden quiet, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She stared at the picture, the faces of those strangers looking back at her, and for a brief moment, she saw a reflection of herself, of the life she had once had. But the fear of her own future won out. She had to survive.

With a steely resolve, she shoved the cloth into the sleeping woman's mouth and clamped her hand down hard. The woman jolted awake, her eyes wide with terror. Karen's heart hammered in her chest, her own breath coming in ragged gasps. She whispered, "Don't scream, don't move, and you won't get hurt."

The young woman's eyes searched Karen's, pleading for understanding, for mercy. Karen felt a pang of regret but shoved it aside. She had to focus. The zip ties were cold and unforgiving as she wrapped them around the woman's wrists, securing them to the bedpost. The woman's muffled sobs filled the room, a stark reminder of the reality she had chosen.

Next, she pulled the duct tape from her pocket and placed it over the woman's mouth, pressing firmly to ensure it stuck. The woman's struggles grew more frantic, and Karen knew she had to move quickly. With a trembling hand, she placed the second piece of tape over the first, layering it to muffle any sound. The third piece went over her nose, leaving only the woman's eyes uncovered, which were now brimming with tears.

Karen took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving the terrified gaze of her victim. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I really am." The words felt hollow, a mere formality to ease her own conscience. She knew she was about to violate this woman's privacy and sense of safety in the most heinous way.

Her hands continued to shake as she began to search the room for anything of value. The woman's purse was on the floor, the contents spilling out as if begging to be taken. She gathered the cash and credit cards, her heart pounding in her chest. Each item she stole was a piece of the woman's life that she was taking, but she had to push the guilt aside.

The woman's eyes never left hers, filled with a mix of anger and fear that seemed to bore into her very soul. Karen's own eyes began to water as she realized the gravity of what she was doing. She had become the monster she had once feared, the shadow that haunted her dreams. But the rent was due, and she had no other options.

With a heavy heart, she moved to the dresser, her eyes scanning for jewelry or any other valuable items. The woman's breaths grew louder, more panicked, and Karen knew she had to be swift. She found a necklace and a few rings, shoving them into her pocket. It was a small haul, but it was enough to get by for another week.

The woman's eyes never left hers, and in that moment, Karen felt a strange connection, a silent understanding that she had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. She took one last look at the picture on the nightstand, the laughter in those faces a stark contrast to the horror in the room.

Nice start, but you should gender tag the story. Just a reminder

Great start

Seems Karen has had a successful first foray into burglary, seems so anyway....

Plenty of potential twists still to come perhaps?

Enjoyed this, nice idea for a story.

Great start. Look forward to hearing more of her adventures

Karen stared into the mirror, her reflection blurred by the steam from the shower. Her eyes searched the foggy glass, seeking the person she used to be. But all she saw was a stranger, dressed in black from head to toe, a gloved hand clutching a small bag. The bathroom light cast eerie shadows across her mask, giving it a lifelike quality that made her stomach flip. She had never been good at hiding her feelings, and now it seemed even her disguise could not conceal the tremble in her hand.

"You can do this," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, echoing off the cold tiles. Karen took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow its frantic pace. She had been planning this for weeks, studying every detail, every possible outcome. The house across the street had been her target for a month now, a seemingly easy score with its predictable schedule and lack of security cameras. Yet, as the moment of action approached, doubt crept in like an unwelcome guest.

Her neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, had told her that the family was away for the weekend, leaving their treasure trove of valuables ripe for the taking. But Karen's conscience tugged at her, whispering memories of childhood lessons about the sanctity of other people's homes. She pushed the thoughts aside. Desperation had painted her into this corner, and she had no intention of letting it win.

With a final nod to the shadow in the mirror, she turned off the light and stepped into the bedroom. The curtains were drawn tight, the room cloaked in darkness save for the dim glow of the streetlamp filtering through the crack. The digital clock on her nightstand read 2:17 AM. It was time.

Her hand hovered over the window latch, the metal cool against her gloved fingertips. Outside, the night was still, the silence a stark contrast to the cacophony of fear and excitement that played in her head. The world was asleep, oblivious to the decision she was about to make. Karen took one last look at her bed, the safety it offered, and the life she knew.

With a quiet click, the window opened. The crisp night air washed over her, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of a barking dog. She climbed out onto the fire escape, the metal grating cold and unforgiving beneath her feet. She felt the weight of the bag pulling at her waist, a constant reminder of the task ahead.

Karen took a moment to survey the quiet street, her eyes adjusting to the moonlit night. The lights in the windows of the houses around her were mostly out, their inhabitants lost in the embrace of sleep. A sense of unease grew within her, a feeling that she was about to disturb something sacred. But the allure of what lay within the shadows was too strong to resist. She took a deep breath and stepped into the night, her heart racing with every beat.

The coolness of the evening wrapped around her like a second skin as she descended the fire escape. The alley below was a study in contrasts, the starkness of the moonlight playing hide and seek with the inky shadows cast by the tall fences and overhanging trees. She paused at the bottom, the chill air biting at her exposed neck, and listened. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of a stray leaf.

Her eyes darted to the house across the way, a two-story structure with a well-tended garden that she had often admired from afar. Now it was just another obstacle to be overcome. She checked the street once more, ensuring it remained empty, before crossing to the fence that separated the two properties. The wood was old and splintered, offering little resistance as she climbed over it.

On the other side, the soft crunch of gravel under her boots was the only sound that pierced the silence. She moved swiftly, the adrenaline coursing through her veins like a river of liquid fire. Each step brought her closer to the darkened house, to the promise of escape from her troubles.

The front door was unlocked, just as Mrs. Jenkins had said. It opened with a barely audible creak, the kind that would go unnoticed in the symphony of night noises. Karen slipped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping her like a welcoming embrace. She took a moment to listen for any signs of life, but the place was as still as a mausoleum.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she tiptoed through the hallway, the gloves muffling the sound of her steps. She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand, had studied it meticulously from her own living room. The stairs to her right led to the bedrooms, the plush carpets silencing her approach.

As she reached the top, a door cracked open, spilling a sliver of light into the hall. Karen froze, her breath catching in her throat. Mrs. Jenkins' 14-year-old daughter, Lily, peered out, her eyes wide with terror. Karen's mind raced. This wasn't part of the plan.

With lightning reflexes, she darted forward, clamping a gloved hand over Lily's mouth. The girl's scream was muffled, her eyes wide with shock and fear. "Shh," Karen hissed, her voice low and urgent. "I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to be quiet and cooperate."

Lily's eyes searched hers, desperate for understanding, for a glimpse of the neighbor she thought she knew. But all she saw was the mask and the cold determination in Karen's eyes. Slowly, she nodded, the tremor in her chin betraying her fear. Karen released her and pulled a length of rope from her bag, her movements swift and efficient.

"You need to be tied up," Karen said, her voice soft but firm. "It's for your own safety. I promise I'll be out of here before anyone notices." Lily's eyes filled with tears as she allowed herself to be bound to the chair in the corner of the room. Karen's stomach twisted at the sight, but she pushed the guilt aside.

With meticulous care, she wrapped the rope around the chair, ensuring it was tight but not cutting into the girl's skin. She took a deep breath, tasting the faint scent of Lily's strawberry lip gloss, and knotted the rope securely. Each loop and twist was executed with precision, a stark contrast to the chaotic storm inside her.

Once she had finished, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. The knots were neat and strong, a silent testament to the hours she had spent watching YouTube tutorials. She had never done anything like this before, but desperation had made her resourceful.

Lily sat there, trembling, her eyes never leaving Karen's. "What are you going to do?" she whispered.

Karen's hand hovered over the roll of duct tape in her pocket. "I need to gag you, Lily. So you don't accidentally wake anyone." She tried to sound reassuring, but the tremor in her voice gave her away.

With trembling hands, she pulled out the sponge ball, its neon pink color a stark contrast to the monochrome scene. "Open your mouth," she instructed, her voice softer now. Lily's eyes grew wider, but she obeyed, the trust she had placed in her neighbor not yet fully shattered. Karen forced a smile behind the mask and gently inserted the ball into the girl's mouth. It was larger than she had anticipated, and Lily's cheeks bulged as she bit down on it.

The duct tape was cold and sticky. She pulled off a piece and placed it over Lily's mouth, pressing it firmly to ensure it stuck. She wrapped it around five times, each pass a silent apology. Lily's eyes never left hers, the tears now spilling down her cheeks, leaving trails of glistening tracks on her pale skin.

Karen stepped back, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. She had never wanted it to come to this, never wanted to be the monster in the night that brought fear to a child's eyes. But the need for the score was too great, the pressure too intense.

With one final nod, she turned away from the bound girl and moved down the hallway. She had to work fast. The master bedroom was her first target, the room she knew held the family's most prized possessions. She slipped inside, the darkness a comforting blanket that concealed her guilt. Her eyes quickly adjusted, searching the dressers and the safe hidden behind a painting.

The safe was a challenge, but she had come prepared. A small electronic lock pick lay in the palm of her hand, a tool she had never used before tonight. The device beeped as she inserted it into the lock, the red lights flickering like a heartbeat. After a few tense moments, it emitted a satisfying click.

Her heart pounding, Karen swung the safe door open. The gleam of jewelry and the promise of cash shone in the moonlight that slipped through the crack in the curtains. She filled her bag greedily, the sound of her own breathing loud in her ears. Each item she took was a step further into the abyss she had been trying to avoid.

When the bag was full, she paused, her hand hovering over a small, ornate box. It was the last thing she needed, but something compelled her to open it. Inside lay a necklace, a simple chain with a single diamond, surrounded by smaller stones. It was the kind of thing a mother would pass down to her daughter, a symbol of love and hope.

The sight of it brought a lump to her throat, a stark reminder of all she had lost. But she had a job to do, a promise to keep. She pocketed the necklace and turned to leave, the weight of her actions dragging at her like an anchor.

Moving through the house was a blur, a dance of shadow and guilt. She checked the other rooms quickly, grabbing what she could without making too much noise. Time stretched and compressed as she worked, the minutes feeling like hours.

Finally, she reached the front door, the bag heavy with her ill-gotten gains. She paused, listening for any sounds that would indicate she had been discovered. But the house remained still, holding its breath as if in a shared secret with her.

With trembling hands, she turned the knob and stepped out into the night. The cool air washed over her, a stark contrast to the warmth she had just left behind. Karen took one last look at the sleeping street before slipping away, back to the alley, back to her own world.

The climb up the fire escape was more difficult this time, the weight of her bag and her conscience a burden she hadn't anticipated. As she climbed through her own window, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was leaving a part of herself behind, a piece of her soul lost in the shadows of the night.

Inside, she collapsed onto her bed, the adrenaline draining from her body, leaving her cold and empty. The digital clock read 3:05 AM. She had been gone for less than an hour, but it felt like a lifetime.

The bag lay at her feet, a silent witness to her crime. She didn't dare open it, not yet. Instead, she lay there, her eyes on the ceiling, listening to the rhythmic tick of the clock. Each second that passed brought her closer to the inevitable moment when she would have to face what she had done.

But for now, she was just Karen, the woman who had made a terrible choice in a desperate attempt to survive. And she knew that when the sun rose, she would have to live with the consequences.

My god, why is this so tragic

I‘m curious though how this will develop. I‘m excited for the next parts