Mom gagged in Game MM/F
Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2025 1:04 am
The summer sun beat down on the small suburban house, casting a warm glow over the cracked pavement and perfectly manicured lawn. Inside, my best friend Nils and I were huddled in the living room, scheming our next move in our favorite make-believe game - Robber.
"Okay, we need to ask Mom to play along," Nils said, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. He was a year older, always coming up with the ideas and leading our adventures.
I gulped, my pulse quickening at the prospect of involving my mom in our game. But Nils was right - it would make things so much more realistic and fun. "Yeah, you're right," I agreed, my voice trembling slightly.
Nils grinned and we crept upstairs, making our way to my parents' bedroom. Mom was sprawled across the bed in her favorite worn jeans, hair black as coal, engrossed in a book. We tiptoed in, trying not to make a sound.
"Mom?" I whispered, tugging gently on her arm. "Can we play a game? Like, a robber game?"
Her eyes flickered up from the pages, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Of course, sweetie. That sounds like fun. What do you need me to do?" She closed her book and set it aside, reaching for something on her nightstand.
"My mom's going to be the house. She'll have the money and stuff." Nils explained, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Mom nodded, pulling out a roll of packing tape. "Here, you can use this to 'tie me up'." She offered it to us with a wink.
Our eyes widened in delight. This was going to be amazing. We positioned Mom on her hands and knees, the floor creaking beneath her. Nils worked efficiently, binding her arms and legs together with the tape.
"Good job, Nils," I praised, my heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness.
Nils stepped back, admiring his handiwork. But as he gazed at the taped-up form before him, I caught a flicker of something else in his eyes - a glimmer of interest, almost hunger, as he took in the sight of my mother, bound and helpless in front of him.
I felt a shiver run down my spine, but pushed the thought aside. This was just a game, right? We were all having fun.
"Okay, now gag her," Nils said, snapping me back to the task at hand.
I reached for an old scarf lying on the floor and stuffed it into Mom's mouth, tying it securely in place. Her eyes, a deep brown I'd never really paid much attention to before, locked onto mine. But she didn't struggle or make a sound, trusting us to look out for her in this Role.
Nils and I exchanged triumphant grins, then set about emptying Mom's purse, counting out play money and scattering it across the carpet like loot.
"Alright, we did it!" Nils exclaimed, high-fiving me. "Now we can go get some ice cream. I'm starving!"
We freed her wrist and feet then left.
As we dashed out of the house, Mom's muffled sounds of amusement followed us, echoing off the walls. I felt a thrill of excitement, but also a strange, unsettling awareness - as if something had shifted, just a little, in the way Nils looked at my mom, and the way Mom, for her part, allowed herself to be looked at.
But we were just kids, playing a game. It was all in good fun, right? I pushed the nagging feeling aside, focusing on the sweet, cold treat awaiting us, and the carefree summer days that stretched out before us like an endless promise.
It wasn't until years later, as I sat recounting this incident to a friend, that I realized the full weight of that moment - the way Nils' gaze lingered on my mother, the way my own understanding of the world had subtly shifted in that fleeting instant. But that was a story for another time.
"Okay, we need to ask Mom to play along," Nils said, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. He was a year older, always coming up with the ideas and leading our adventures.
I gulped, my pulse quickening at the prospect of involving my mom in our game. But Nils was right - it would make things so much more realistic and fun. "Yeah, you're right," I agreed, my voice trembling slightly.
Nils grinned and we crept upstairs, making our way to my parents' bedroom. Mom was sprawled across the bed in her favorite worn jeans, hair black as coal, engrossed in a book. We tiptoed in, trying not to make a sound.
"Mom?" I whispered, tugging gently on her arm. "Can we play a game? Like, a robber game?"
Her eyes flickered up from the pages, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Of course, sweetie. That sounds like fun. What do you need me to do?" She closed her book and set it aside, reaching for something on her nightstand.
"My mom's going to be the house. She'll have the money and stuff." Nils explained, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Mom nodded, pulling out a roll of packing tape. "Here, you can use this to 'tie me up'." She offered it to us with a wink.
Our eyes widened in delight. This was going to be amazing. We positioned Mom on her hands and knees, the floor creaking beneath her. Nils worked efficiently, binding her arms and legs together with the tape.
"Good job, Nils," I praised, my heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness.
Nils stepped back, admiring his handiwork. But as he gazed at the taped-up form before him, I caught a flicker of something else in his eyes - a glimmer of interest, almost hunger, as he took in the sight of my mother, bound and helpless in front of him.
I felt a shiver run down my spine, but pushed the thought aside. This was just a game, right? We were all having fun.
"Okay, now gag her," Nils said, snapping me back to the task at hand.
I reached for an old scarf lying on the floor and stuffed it into Mom's mouth, tying it securely in place. Her eyes, a deep brown I'd never really paid much attention to before, locked onto mine. But she didn't struggle or make a sound, trusting us to look out for her in this Role.
Nils and I exchanged triumphant grins, then set about emptying Mom's purse, counting out play money and scattering it across the carpet like loot.
"Alright, we did it!" Nils exclaimed, high-fiving me. "Now we can go get some ice cream. I'm starving!"
We freed her wrist and feet then left.
As we dashed out of the house, Mom's muffled sounds of amusement followed us, echoing off the walls. I felt a thrill of excitement, but also a strange, unsettling awareness - as if something had shifted, just a little, in the way Nils looked at my mom, and the way Mom, for her part, allowed herself to be looked at.
But we were just kids, playing a game. It was all in good fun, right? I pushed the nagging feeling aside, focusing on the sweet, cold treat awaiting us, and the carefree summer days that stretched out before us like an endless promise.
It wasn't until years later, as I sat recounting this incident to a friend, that I realized the full weight of that moment - the way Nils' gaze lingered on my mother, the way my own understanding of the world had subtly shifted in that fleeting instant. But that was a story for another time.
