Spies, Lies and Taped up Thighs. (F/f, F/Ff)

[suedenym]

Erin bounced on the balls of her bare feet in the living room, her toes digging into the plush rug as she clutched a roll of duct tape between her hands. The afternoon sun slanted through the blinds, casting striped shadows over her rumpled T-shirt and her aunt's lap,top,as she sat at the tabl typing away with a something between a frustrated and bored expression.

“Aunt Liza," she said, voice cracking with excitement, "Can youmtie me up like a captured spy?”.

Her aunt’s fingers froze mid-keystroke. The chair creaked as she turned, studying the tape, then the girl’s flushed face and upturned wrists. Erin bounced again, her messy ponytail swinging wildly behind her. “My friend Sammimplays this game with her brother. She’s been tied up loads of times.”

Liza sighed, rubbing her temple where her reading glasses had left faint red marks. “Erin, you’re impossible.” But she stood, smoothing down her skirt and stretching her arms. Erin shoved the tape at her, grinning as she spun round, already pressing her wrists together behind her back. Liza hesitated, then tore a strip with a sharp riiiip, wrapping it firmly round Erin’s wrists while muttering, “The things I do for you.”

The tape was cold and tight, pulling at the unblemished skin on Erin’s arms as Liza wound it methodically, circling her wrists twice before securing it. Erin wriggled experimentally, testing the bonds. “Tighter!” she demanded, hopping from foot to foot. Liza rolled her eyes, but obliged, pressing the tape snugly against Erin’s skin until her fingers tingled. The scent of adhesive mingled with the faint floral perfume from Liza’s blouse.

Erin tested the restraint and finding it satisfacr squealed “Now yiu wouldn want me to run away.” And giggled as Liza knelt down, tearing off another strip to bind her bare ankles together. The tape clung to the dust clinging to Erin’s legs from earlier adventures outside, her soles a shade of dark grey gusting black. She flexed her toes—still free—but Liza wasn’t finished yet. Another strip wound around Erin’s shins, right below her knees, pinning her legs together like a captured mermaid. Erin swayed, struggling to balance, the rug’s fibers tickling her feet as she wobbled precariously.

“More.” The young girl cried out. Liza complied binding abive her knees and her mid thighs with the almost nean, pink tape.

Liza straightened, surveying her work with a smirk. “Happy?” she asked, stepping back.

Erin nodded vigorously, her ponytail bouncing, before asking “Can you tie my arms too please?”eagerly hopping round in the spot to present her arms again.

With an exaggerated sigh, Liza obliged, winding the pink tape around Erin’s upper arms, just above her elbows, pressing them firmly against her T-shirt. The fabric wrinkled under the pressure, and Erin inhaled sharply as the sticky embrace tightened further, her breath hitching with delighted discomfort. She squirmed, testing the bindings, but could barely twitch her fingers now. Liza added more loops of tape, as demanded by her prisoner, around her shoulders and upper arms, her lower chest/tummy, and round her waist, pinning her bo7nd wrists into the small of her back.

The tape circled her body in neat, gleaming stripes, binding her arms firmly in place until she could barely wiggle. Erin giggled breathlessly, twisting her torso experimentally—nothing gave. The tape pulled at her skin with every tiny movement, the scent of adhesive mingling with the warm afternoon air.

“What if someone heard me screaming?” Erin cheekily asked with a huge grin on her face.

Liza rolled her eyes so hard it probably hurt. “Oh, please. Just don't wake the neighbors.” As she took the tape again and pressed four or five strips over Erin’s lips, sealing her mouth and transforming the lower part of her face into a shiny pink mask.

Just as Liza secured the final strip, the sharp trill of the doorbell sliced through the room. Both froze. "Shit," Liza breathed, eyes darting from Erin's immobilized form to the front hall. Erin's muffled squeals grew frantic behind the tape as she twisted toward the couch—too slow. The bell rang again, impatient. Then a voice called out. Liza's neighbour, Sara, who clearly wasnot going to be put off.

Liza realised she could nort possibly untie her niece in time so seized Erin by the shoulders, hauling her sideways, her nylon feet slipping in the polished wood floor, but Erin's bound legs buckled, sending them both crashing onto the rug in a tangle of limbs as she tried to get purchase on the shiny surface with her bare heels.

"Just coming." Lisa shouted, pishing Erin behind the sofa and throwing a blanket over her. It did not hide the outline if the hirl all tied up but kind of broke the outline somewhat. It would have to do.

"Lisa." Sara said as she walked in. She was holding a cake tin. "I thought you could do with cheering up." She put the tin on the table and took off her coat, hanging it on the hook behind the door. "You OK? You look flustered." She said taking in Liza’s red face, disheveled hair, creased blouse and the strip of pink tape inexplicably stuck to her left foot.

There was a muffled thud from behind the sofa. Sara turned her head sharply toward the noise. Lisa's heart lurched—Erin had clearly tried to scoot further into hiding and knocked something over. *I need to grt the heating seen to. Air in the pipes.” Liza said quickly, stepping forward to block Sara’s view, her tights whispering against the hardwood as she shifted her weight. "You didn’t have to make me a—oh!"

Too late. Sara's eyes widened as the blanket slipped, revealing a pair of bare feet curled awkwardly against the floorboards, toes twitching in distress. A beat of silence. Then Sara burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god—what—is that—Erin?” She wheezed, pointing at the wriggling lump under the blanket.

Liza groaned, dragging a hand down her face as Sara strode past her and yanked the blanket away. Erin blinked up at them, her wide eyes peeking over the pink tape gag, her whole body straining against the bindings like a trussed-up caterpillar. A muffled squeal escaped her lips as Sara crouched down, poking one finger against Erin’s immobilised feet and tickling her soles, revelling in the way it made the girl squirm. “Damn, kid. I think you’ve bith bitten offmore than you can chew!.”

Erin’s muffled giggles shook her shoulders as Sara glanced at Liza, shaking her head. “You just *let* her talk you into this?” Liza threw her hands up.

“She had the tape ready! What was I supposed to do?” Sara snorted, picking up the roll still sitting on the table. “Well, since she’s *clearly* enjoying herself…”

Erin’s eyes widened as Sara tore off a fresh strip, the sound making her flinch. “Oh no you don’t—” Liza started, but Sara was already wrapping the tape snugly around Erin’s big toes—just for good measure, grinning at the girl’s muffled protests. “There. Now she *really* can’t run.”

Erin wriggled like a fish on a hook as Sara hoisted her up by the shoulders, her legs swinging uselessly beneath her, toes curling against the air. Liza grabbed her ankles—still bound tight—and together they lugged her to the center of the room, dumping her unceremoniously onto the rug where she flopped onto her side with a muffled *oof*. Sara admired their handiwork—the tape gleaming under the overhead light—then nudged Erin’s shoulder with her socked foot. “So. How’s spy life treating you?”

Erin tipped her chin up defiantly, but her eyes crinkled at the corners—clearly enjoying every second. Sara folded her arms, turning to Liza with a wicked grin. “You know, since we’re doing espionage, kidnapping and tie up scenarios…” Liza took a half-step back, hands raised. “Oh no. No way.” Sara advanced, twirling the roll between her fingers. “Come on,” she teased, nodding toward Erin. “Can’t let her have *all* the fun.” Erin nodded vigorously, her gagged laughter bubbling up as she kicked her heels against the rug in agreement.

Liza bolted—or tried to—but her tights betrayed her, sliding on the polished floor as Sara lunged, catching her wrist mid-stride. They crashed into the armchair, Sara pinning Liza’s arms behind her with surprising efficiency while Liza squawked protests. “Sara, I swear—mmph!” The tape sealed her lips mid-curse, her blouse wrinkling as Sara wound another strip around her elbows, yanking them snug against her back. Liza thrashed, but Sara straddled her thighs, anchoring her in place with her weight. “Should’ve been barefoot,” Sara mused, nodding at Liza’s stockinged feet scrambling uselessly against the hardwood.

Erin, meanwhile, writhed in restrained ecstasy on the rug, her muffled giggles rising in pitch as she watched Sara wrestle Liza into submission. The tape around her own wrists creaked as she strained to sit up, her bare toes curling in the air—rendered useless by the layers binding her calves and thighs. She flopped onto her side again, breathless, the floral scent of the rug mixing with the sharp tang of adhesive as Sara finished wrapping Liza’s upper arms, cinching them tight and parallel, horizontally from wrist to elbow both sides with a flourish.

Liza’s legs kicked wildly, her tights rasping against each other as Sara pinned her knees together with practiced ease. Another strip—this one wrapped just below her skirt’s hem—anchored her thighs, the fabric bunching under the pressure. Sara chuckled, leaning down to whisper, “Not goin* anywhere were you,” before tearing off another length with her teeth. Liza’s muffled protests dissolved into frantic breathing as Sara wound the tape around her ankles, then her shins, the nylon straining against the sticky binds.

Erin’s muffled squeals crescendoed when Liza suddenly twisted her head sideways, rubbing her sealed lips against her shoulder until the tape peeled up at the corner. “SARA YOU LUN—” The shout died abruptly as Sara, without missing a beat, yanked off her own sock—still warm from her shoes—and crammed it past Liza’s parted teeth. Liza’s eyes bulged, her gagged scream vibrating against the cotton as Sara slapped a fresh strip of tape over her mouth, sealing it with a triumphant pat. “There. *Now* you sound like a proper hostage.”

The sock expanded with Liza’s panting breaths, the faint musk of leather shoes mingling with the adhesive’s chemical sting. She arched her back, writhing against the polishrd floor, her bound legs thrashing in a futile attempt to kick Sara away—but Sara just laughed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Liza’s blouse had ridden up, revealing the crisscrossed tape around her midsection, her chest heaving against the restraints.

Sara crouched beside Erin, ruffling her hair as the girl giggled behind her gag. “Your aunt makes *such* a dramatic prisoner,” she teased, tapping Liza’s squirming thigh with her bare, brightly polished toes. Liza responded with a muffled growl, twisting her head violently until the tape over her lips stretched almost to breaking point. “HEAF MEEE, OOO IGGLE—” Sara gasped in mock horror, lunging forward to press the second discarded sock back over Liza’s mouth. Then wrapping tape around her head, her fingers brushing Liza’s hair as she smoothed a fresh strip after strip of tape over her lips with exaggerated care. “Shhh,” she murmured, patting Liza’s flushed cheek. “No spoilers.”

Erin writhed closer, her bound legs bumping against Liza’s with a rustle of nylon and skin, her bare toes flexing uselessly as she tried to nudge her aunt’s shoulder in solidarity. Sara watched them with undisguised glee, plopping onto the rug between them and stretching her legs out. “So,” she said conversationally, peeling back the foil on the cake tin to reveal a perfectly frosted chocolate layer, “who wants dessert first?” Erin’s eyes lit up, her muffled squeals rising in pitch as she kicked her heels against the floorboards. Liza, meanwhile, went rigid, her nostrils flaring as she glared daggers at Sara—who merely winked. “Relax, Liza,” she said, waving the cake under Liza’s nose. “I’ll *eventually* untie you. Maybe.” As she padded barefoot to Liza’s kitchen to make a cup of tea to go with the cake.

[Caesar73]

Nice one!!