You break into the house thinking i5 is empty but after just five minutes I come in. Fifteen years old wearing black T-shirt, beige cargo trousers, black socks and converse.
How do,you keep me out of your way while you Cary on.
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JUST A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT TO REMIND EVERYONE (GUESTS AND REGISTERED USERS ALIKE) THAT THIS FORUM IS BUILT AROUND USER PARTICIPATION AND PUBLIC INTERACTIONS. IF YOU SEE A THREAD YOU LIKE, PARTICIPATE! IF YOU ENJOYED READING A STORY, POST A COMMENT TO LET THE AUTHOR KNOW! TAKING A FEW EXTRA SECONDS TO LET AN AUTHOR KNOW YOU ENJOYED HIS OR HER WORK IS THE BEST WAY TO ENSURE THAT MORE SIMILAR STORIES ARE POSTED. KEEPING THE COMMUNITY ALIVE IS A GROUP EFFORT. LET'S ALL MAKE AN EFFORT TO PARTICIPATE.
Keep me out of the way (?/f)
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Boundgirl09
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 18
- Joined: 5 days ago
- Location: Cornwall
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WhereAmI
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 200
- Joined: 3 months ago
- Location: You Are Tied Spread Eagle Over The Dining Room Table For My Dinner
Sorry little girl you must have the wrong house, this one is being burglarised and the occupants being tied up and kidnapped. So as you can see we are very very busy. Wait a minute are your parents rich? 
To tie you up is human, to tie you up and tickle you is divine. ME 
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JulieG
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1244
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Tied up and spanked over your knee, or in the dungeon tormenting you!
I have checked the house is empty, seen your parents leave in the car so I’m certain I have the place to myself. No alarm. I like it. I force open a back door. Easy. And now start looking for jewellery, cash and electronics.
Suddenly I hear the door open and movements. I am prepared.
You are a long into the lounge, hanging your jacket up, when suddenly you see a figure, all in black, boots, leggings pullover, balaclava, just pink lips, green eyes and a ginger pony tail on show. You start to scream but I’m on top of you. You are quicker and more flexible but air weigh more and I pin you to the ground. I came prepared. I pull your hands behind your back and there is the click click click of zip ties round your wrists. As you open your mouth to scream a rag goes inside. This is quickly followed by thick black tape, wrapped round your head holding the cloth in your mouth and covering your eyes. You try to kick but it is no use. I drag you mmmppping to the kitchen and push you into a chair. First I zip tie your ankles to the front legs then I zip tie your upper arms to the poles at the back, cruelly crushing your arms between your back and the chair. A few more ties to reinforce your wrists and fasten them to the post in the middle of the chair back. More zip ties round your ankles and upper arms, then tape round your chest and stomach. More tape round your shins on the wrong legs and thighs on the seat.
In less than three minutes you are blindfolded, gagged and immobilised, welded to the kitchen chair. I spend another ten, twenty minutes ransacking your house before I exit, saying nothing. You are left struggling in the chair until your parents return.
Suddenly I hear the door open and movements. I am prepared.
You are a long into the lounge, hanging your jacket up, when suddenly you see a figure, all in black, boots, leggings pullover, balaclava, just pink lips, green eyes and a ginger pony tail on show. You start to scream but I’m on top of you. You are quicker and more flexible but air weigh more and I pin you to the ground. I came prepared. I pull your hands behind your back and there is the click click click of zip ties round your wrists. As you open your mouth to scream a rag goes inside. This is quickly followed by thick black tape, wrapped round your head holding the cloth in your mouth and covering your eyes. You try to kick but it is no use. I drag you mmmppping to the kitchen and push you into a chair. First I zip tie your ankles to the front legs then I zip tie your upper arms to the poles at the back, cruelly crushing your arms between your back and the chair. A few more ties to reinforce your wrists and fasten them to the post in the middle of the chair back. More zip ties round your ankles and upper arms, then tape round your chest and stomach. More tape round your shins on the wrong legs and thighs on the seat.
In less than three minutes you are blindfolded, gagged and immobilised, welded to the kitchen chair. I spend another ten, twenty minutes ransacking your house before I exit, saying nothing. You are left struggling in the chair until your parents return.
Hey, glad to have you back. 
I think the new setting is even better than your previous one.
So, while I'm busy stealing all the valuables I can find in your house, I suddenly hear footsteps approaching from the direction of the front door: you've just come home from a friend's house and are entering the hallway at that moment. I react quickly, sneak up on you so you don't notice me, and then grab you, wrapping one arm around your neck and pressing my hand over your mouth.
‘Keep still, little girl!’ I warn you, watching briefly as you flail your arms helplessly and try to break free, but of course you little thing don't stand a chance against me.
I manage to drag you into the living room with ease, never loosening my grip on you.
‘On your knees and hands behind your back,’ I order you and finally let you go. You beg me not to hurt you and then do what I told you to do. It's so wonderful to see you kneeling in front of me, defenceless, with your delicate, thin wrists behind your back and the uncertain look in your eyes. But of course, I've taken precautions and fish out a roll of duct tape, which I use to kneel in front of your wrists – with a loud rattle, you get four whole layers of tape tied over your crossed wrists – now you're my hostage, and I'll make sure you feel it. A little later, I gag you with an old kitchen sponge that was lying in your sink by pressing it into your mouth without cleaning it first and then sticking the wide black tape over it again – and not only that: I wrap it around your head several times, silencing you completely. Then your ankles are also taped together, making sure that everything is tight and you can't free yourself.
‘And if you try to scream or free yourself, you'll regret it shortly afterwards,’ I threaten, pointing to the duct tape that is now lying directly in front of you. Crouching against the wall of your own living room, you watch as I pack jewellery and cash into my bag, and there's nothing you can do about it. You're like a spectator watching a film, feeling the painful tape on your skin and the foul taste of the sponge, aka your gag.
Just as I'm about to run off with my loot, it happens: you deliberately stretch out your legs so that I trip over them and the bag with the stolen goods flies out of my hands – money, jewellery and other expensive items are now scattered on the floor, but what makes me even angrier is that my prisoner actually dared to trick me.
Now everything happens very quickly: I remove all the tape and let you spit out the kitchen sponge, but quickly push you against the wall, pressing one hand against each of your shoulders.
‘Listen to me carefully, little one – now things are going to get uncomfortable for you.’ My voice is so menacingly calm that you start to tremble.
‘Now take off your shoes and socks, give them to me and then stand in front of the stairs – with your back to me and your hands behind your back again.’
I watch closely as you stand there, first unlacing your two Converse shoes and then slipping them off. You don't dare to speak as you hand them to me. Now you stand there in your black socks and look first at me, then at your feet. Sighing, you pull both socks off your feet one after the other and give them to me before marching barefoot towards the stairs. I wait until you have your hands behind your back, then I come closer and put one of your socks over each of your hands and wrap duct tape around both of your hands so that the socks disappear completely under the tape. It now looks as if you have two black stumps instead of hands, which are now completely useless.
Now I put the bag that previously contained my loot over your head so that you can no longer see. I skilfully ignore your quiet whimpering.
‘Lean forward!’ I command you, and you bend your body forward so that you are kneeling directly in front of the stairs, your head – hidden under the sack – now resting on the second step. Now I'm targeting your bare feet: I tape your ankles together as tightly as possible with duct tape until I feel that your little feet are as defenceless as your hands. I sit on your lower legs and tickle the soles of your feet extensively. My fingers prick your soft skin, torment your toes and repeatedly stroke your soles, so that you can no longer hold back your laughter and beg me to stop.
Then I use the tip of a key to tickle your taped bare feet: I repeatedly poke your sensitive skin with the tip or let it slide across the soles of your feet.
After I have tickled you thoroughly, I decide to make myself scarce, but first we have to secure you properly. That's why, a little later, you find yourself lying in your dark wardrobe, crammed between your clothes and completely helpless. Your eyes are covered with a bandana that I have tied behind your head, while your used socks wriggle around in your mouth in the form of a damp ball that keeps moving back and forth between your tongue and teeth. Several layers of duct tape adorn your lips, and I couldn't resist drawing a mouth on the tape with a waterproof felt-tip pen.
Your body is zip-tied in every conceivable place: I have fastened your hands above your head: I have tied thick cable ties around your wrists, but also around your palms and even around both your thumbs, cutting into your flesh. With another cable tie, I connected your hands to the handle of a drawer above you, forcing you to stretch your arms upwards.
Your legs are hardly any different: I distributed a total of eight thick cable ties evenly around them, so I put a zip tie around them ever 10 - 15 cm. Your ankles, soles of your feet and even your big toes are ziptied together as well, making it impossible for you to move at all. I was nice and put a delicious apple and a glass of orange juice right next to your ziptied feet - just for you - but sadly you can't reach it. In addition, I put your heavy desk before your wardrobe, so even if you'd escape from the zip ties, you still would be trapped in your wardrobe.
So the little girl is in her trap - where she belongs.
I think the new setting is even better than your previous one.
So, while I'm busy stealing all the valuables I can find in your house, I suddenly hear footsteps approaching from the direction of the front door: you've just come home from a friend's house and are entering the hallway at that moment. I react quickly, sneak up on you so you don't notice me, and then grab you, wrapping one arm around your neck and pressing my hand over your mouth.
‘Keep still, little girl!’ I warn you, watching briefly as you flail your arms helplessly and try to break free, but of course you little thing don't stand a chance against me.
I manage to drag you into the living room with ease, never loosening my grip on you.
‘On your knees and hands behind your back,’ I order you and finally let you go. You beg me not to hurt you and then do what I told you to do. It's so wonderful to see you kneeling in front of me, defenceless, with your delicate, thin wrists behind your back and the uncertain look in your eyes. But of course, I've taken precautions and fish out a roll of duct tape, which I use to kneel in front of your wrists – with a loud rattle, you get four whole layers of tape tied over your crossed wrists – now you're my hostage, and I'll make sure you feel it. A little later, I gag you with an old kitchen sponge that was lying in your sink by pressing it into your mouth without cleaning it first and then sticking the wide black tape over it again – and not only that: I wrap it around your head several times, silencing you completely. Then your ankles are also taped together, making sure that everything is tight and you can't free yourself.
‘And if you try to scream or free yourself, you'll regret it shortly afterwards,’ I threaten, pointing to the duct tape that is now lying directly in front of you. Crouching against the wall of your own living room, you watch as I pack jewellery and cash into my bag, and there's nothing you can do about it. You're like a spectator watching a film, feeling the painful tape on your skin and the foul taste of the sponge, aka your gag.
Just as I'm about to run off with my loot, it happens: you deliberately stretch out your legs so that I trip over them and the bag with the stolen goods flies out of my hands – money, jewellery and other expensive items are now scattered on the floor, but what makes me even angrier is that my prisoner actually dared to trick me.
Now everything happens very quickly: I remove all the tape and let you spit out the kitchen sponge, but quickly push you against the wall, pressing one hand against each of your shoulders.
‘Listen to me carefully, little one – now things are going to get uncomfortable for you.’ My voice is so menacingly calm that you start to tremble.
‘Now take off your shoes and socks, give them to me and then stand in front of the stairs – with your back to me and your hands behind your back again.’
I watch closely as you stand there, first unlacing your two Converse shoes and then slipping them off. You don't dare to speak as you hand them to me. Now you stand there in your black socks and look first at me, then at your feet. Sighing, you pull both socks off your feet one after the other and give them to me before marching barefoot towards the stairs. I wait until you have your hands behind your back, then I come closer and put one of your socks over each of your hands and wrap duct tape around both of your hands so that the socks disappear completely under the tape. It now looks as if you have two black stumps instead of hands, which are now completely useless.
Now I put the bag that previously contained my loot over your head so that you can no longer see. I skilfully ignore your quiet whimpering.
‘Lean forward!’ I command you, and you bend your body forward so that you are kneeling directly in front of the stairs, your head – hidden under the sack – now resting on the second step. Now I'm targeting your bare feet: I tape your ankles together as tightly as possible with duct tape until I feel that your little feet are as defenceless as your hands. I sit on your lower legs and tickle the soles of your feet extensively. My fingers prick your soft skin, torment your toes and repeatedly stroke your soles, so that you can no longer hold back your laughter and beg me to stop.
Then I use the tip of a key to tickle your taped bare feet: I repeatedly poke your sensitive skin with the tip or let it slide across the soles of your feet.
After I have tickled you thoroughly, I decide to make myself scarce, but first we have to secure you properly. That's why, a little later, you find yourself lying in your dark wardrobe, crammed between your clothes and completely helpless. Your eyes are covered with a bandana that I have tied behind your head, while your used socks wriggle around in your mouth in the form of a damp ball that keeps moving back and forth between your tongue and teeth. Several layers of duct tape adorn your lips, and I couldn't resist drawing a mouth on the tape with a waterproof felt-tip pen.
Your body is zip-tied in every conceivable place: I have fastened your hands above your head: I have tied thick cable ties around your wrists, but also around your palms and even around both your thumbs, cutting into your flesh. With another cable tie, I connected your hands to the handle of a drawer above you, forcing you to stretch your arms upwards.
Your legs are hardly any different: I distributed a total of eight thick cable ties evenly around them, so I put a zip tie around them ever 10 - 15 cm. Your ankles, soles of your feet and even your big toes are ziptied together as well, making it impossible for you to move at all. I was nice and put a delicious apple and a glass of orange juice right next to your ziptied feet - just for you - but sadly you can't reach it. In addition, I put your heavy desk before your wardrobe, so even if you'd escape from the zip ties, you still would be trapped in your wardrobe.
So the little girl is in her trap - where she belongs.
I come prepared for anything. First I scout around the house and quickly hear music from a bed room. Easing the door open, I spot a teen girl ack T-shirt, beige cargo trousers, black socks and converse dancing. Drawing my dart gun, I fire and catch you before you hit the ground. You're laid on your bed while I switch your iPod off and your mobile, extracting the SIM card. Focusing on you, I truss you up with cable ties and attach your wrist ankles with a rope, forming a tight hogtie. As you awake, I quickly slap two strong pieces of duct tape over your lips. You scream even with this gag so I pull off your ankle socks and stuff them it, warn your I'll knock you unconscious. Noticing a scarf, I wrap it around your head to blind fold you. Only an hour later, I leave, snapping a picture of you rolling down.Boundgirl09 wrote: 1 day ago You break into the house thinking i5 is empty but after just five minutes I come in. Fifteen years old wearing black T-shirt, beige cargo trousers, black socks and converse.
How do,you keep me out of your way while you Cary on.
Wife, mother, daughter, sister. Bound and gagged by boys and men since 5.
Please stop asking me to post my life stories.
Please stop asking me to post my life stories.
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Boundgirl09
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 18
- Joined: 5 days ago
- Location: Cornwall
@Julieg. You came prepared. I imagine being tied to that chair for hours, struggling and getting frustrated. Helpless only able to wait
@BBQ-2002 my feet again. What a load of horrible ways to be tied up in one story. I love it.
@DGirl thanks sweetie. What were you doing up at 4am replying to this? And it’s my shoes and socks again. Anyone would think you had a fetish for my bare feet?
@BBQ-2002 my feet again. What a load of horrible ways to be tied up in one story. I love it.
@DGirl thanks sweetie. What were you doing up at 4am replying to this? And it’s my shoes and socks again. Anyone would think you had a fetish for my bare feet?
Daughter crying. Well, you're 15, can't stuff with adult stuff.Boundgirl09 wrote: 19 hours ago @Julieg. You came prepared. I imagine being tied to that chair for hours, struggling and getting frustrated. Helpless only able to wait
@BBQ-2002 my feet again. What a load of horrible ways to be tied up in one story. I love it.
@DGirl thanks sweetie. What were you doing up at 4am replying to this? And it’s my shoes and socks again. Anyone would think you had a fetish for my bare feet?
Wife, mother, daughter, sister. Bound and gagged by boys and men since 5.
Please stop asking me to post my life stories.
Please stop asking me to post my life stories.
@Boundgirl09 If you want to, you can also create a new post and ask the community what they'd do to your feet. So far, you focussed on getting tied up, but in case you're comfortable with it, why not asking for some feet stuff? I think you would get lots of replies.