Sarobah : 10 - Family Ties (m/ff, m/fff)

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Fordman
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Sarobah : 10 - Family Ties (m/ff, m/fff)

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Sarobah's stories
10 - Family Ties
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By Sarobah

Mon Jul 28, 2008 5:41 pm

I have hesitated in telling this story, partly because it is one of my longest; but also because it makes me feel a little discomforted, given the subject matter. Being tied up by your little brother (i.e. younger but bigger) can be a tad awkward. Even I have an embarrassment threshold.

My best friend in high school was Rachel. She was one of the cool chicks who always wore the right clothes, whose hair was always perfect, whose skin never broke out. She got invited to all the best parties; and wherever she went, she was surrounded by a cloud of admirers and acolytes. Nevertheless, we were friends, and we absorbed much of each other’s personalities. I became one of the in-crowd and Rachel became more of a free spirit. However, there was a fly in the ointment.

The fly was my brother Alex. He and Rachel had a love-hate relationship, except without the love. Almost three years her junior, he was besotted with her, but like many a would-be lover spurned, his infatuation turned to obsession. Okay, I’m exaggerating; but he decided that Rachel, and I by association, needed to be taken down a peg or two.

The opportunity arose one day after school, and it was I who (inadvertently) provided it. Two afternoons a week, Rachel and I met for a couple of hours of study. On this day, we were at my place. We had changed out of our uniforms and were settled in the living room with our books. We weren’t in the mood for work though, and when Alex wandered in and switched on the television, we didn’t complain. We watched an old episode of Wonder Woman and Rachel knowing of my penchant for tie-up games remarked about how often the superheroine managed to get herself tied up. That led to the inevitable comment from my precocious little brother that maybe she liked it. Rachel, being provocative, scoffed at the very idea, and that’s when I attacked her.

Being bigger than me, she could have fought me off, but she allowed me to pin her to the floor, sitting astride her midsection and pinioning her arms by her side with my knees. While she giggled and squealed, Alex ran to the kitchen and fetched a roll of tape, not the classic duct tape, but paper masking tape (which works almost as well, without abrading or irritating the skin). Rachel was nicely compliant when I rolled her onto her belly, pulled her arms behind her back and taped her wrists. She then jerked her body sideways and threw me off. We scuffled on the floor as Rachel, laughing and swearing, tried to break free of the tape. She thought the game was finished, silly girl.

Alex had so far been a passive spectator, except for bringing the tape. Now he took the initiative, seizing Rachel’s legs. Too late she tried to wrest them from his grip; but when I had the tape wrapped just once around her ankles she went limp. I completed the job, and she again submitted as we pushed her onto her belly. She then resumed the struggle but was caught off guard when Alex forced a strip of tape over her mouth. She managed to pull her jaws apart, until I clamped them shut and my brother applied several more layers.

I lay on the floor next to her to study Rachel’s face. She looked so sweet and innocent and helpless, hair disheveled, big brown eyes wide and staring, nostrils flaring. She was breathing with a shallow, rapid panting. Naturally, Alex and I had to complete the hogtie. When we were finished, the poor girl looked quite stupefied; but it was a good thing that she was properly gagged. The tape over her mouth was wrinkling and crinkling in a way which hinted at some ripe obscenities trying to work their way through. She whimpered and squirmed and rolled about, and I couldn’t resist some tickle-torture. Alex wanted to tape over her eyes, but I vetoed that.

I was not yet done with making Rachel pay for mocking our tie-up games. I detached her ankle bindings from her wrists and, thinking it was over, she tried to sit up; but I forced her back down. I lay over her, on my stomach, so our bodies formed a cross. I put my hands behind my back and Alex obligingly bound them with the tape, then my ankles, with a gag to complete the job. Rachel was protesting as best she could, to no avail. She was writhing and twisting beneath my body, although I didn’t weigh enough to hurt her arms. It was more her pride that was injured. We must have looked a treat.

When my brother eventually tired of just watching us lying on the floor one atop the other, he hauled me off and made us kneel facing each other. After a fruitless attempt to tape us together, he gave up and watched TV as we struggled to liberate ourselves. After maybe fifteen minutes, by scratching with my fingernails, I managed to cut through the tape binding my wrists and get myself free. I kept Rachel’s ordeal going a while longer. She deserved it.

At the end, I was a little afraid that she would be annoyed, perhaps even a little creeped out. Instead, she commended me and especially my brother for an interesting experience. The only discomfort she felt was when her tape-gag was ripped off with a little bit too much zest. After that, she and I became semi-regular tie-up buddies; but until then, so far as I know, she was a tie-up virgin. It was also the first time Alex got to tie up two girls at once.

My brother had tied me up on many occasions, including what was my very first genuine TUG. There has never been anything icky or creepy about this. I liked being tied up, and it was a fun way of relieving boredom. He also liked having the chance of giving his bossy big sister her comeuppance. Furthermore, he enjoyed TUGs as much as I did (and do), so he took the opportunity to try out some of his techniques on me. I sometimes made use of his services to practice my Escape Artiste magician’s act. However, his big moment came a few months after Rachel’s initiation (before our camping adventure), when he got to live the dream, tying up three girls.

The occasion was my friend Sandra’s upcoming birthday. She and I were not as close as Rachel and I, but at school we were something of a trendsetting troika. This was a Friday night, and normally we would be out on the town in short skirts, high heels and bad company (though maybe not so much of the latter). But Sandra was having a big celebration the following day, and so we were having a girl’s night in. Now it would sound more risqué if it were a pajama party, but it was just a regular get-together or so it was intended. What turned it into a tie-up game was the fact that my parents were out. What escalated it was that my brother was home.

After a pizza dinner, we girls spent the first part of the evening in my bedroom, making final plans for the party. Alex interrupted us early on, no doubt hoping to catch us pillow-fighting in lace teddies and frilly baby-dolls. He was of course disappointed. Not long after that, however, Rachel and I began wresting with each other and tried to tie each other up with whatever we could find. I don’t remember what set us off, but it may have had something to do with my brother’s incursion. In any case, Sandra sat back and watched us rolling about on the bed, not knowing whether to intervene, and if she did, on whose side.

On a bizarre impulse, I yelled out: “Alex, here’s your chance!”

There was a pounding on the floorboards as my brother came bounding up the stairs and storming into the room. Rachel groaned “Not again!” Sandra gave us all a very strange look. However, I immediately regretted my impulse and snarled at a mystified Alex to back off. He retreated and Rachel taunted him by showing off her half-bound hands. What then occurred was one of those weird episodes that you look back on and ask yourself: Did it really happen like that?

I said let’s take this downstairs and led the way to the kitchen. I made coffee (probably the last thing four hyped up teenagers needed at that moment). We were sitting at the dining room table when, acting on some primeval urge, I got up and went around to stand behind Rachel. I drew her hands behind her back and tied them with a tea towel. She didn’t protest or resist, just grinned impishly when I was done; but suddenly she leapt out of her seat and made a dash for the living room. I tackled her and we went crashing to the carpet. Fortunately for Rachel, without her hands free to break her fall, she landed on top of me. It was a rather silly thing for me to do.

Everything then got stranger, as I said something like “its tie-up time.”

My quick-thinking brother raced back to the kitchen and returned with the masking tape, very likely the same roll he had used on Rachel and me that first time. Sandra watched him in silent apprehension, until I, sitting on the floor with Rachel, beckoned for her to join us. Amazingly, she did so. We lay face down, side by side, and I told Sandra to put her hands behind her back. She giggled nervously but obeyed.

Alex started with Rachel, removing her tea towel tie and replacing it with tape. He bound her ankles, and she whispered something inaudible just before her gag went on. He then moved on to me, and he proceeded to put me into one of my most stringent ever hog-ties. As well as my wrists and ankles, he also taped my knees and elbows, much tighter than I was used to. Once I was properly bound, he straddled my backside to apply my gag. His dead weight on my feet and hands wrenched my arms backwards until it felt like they would be torn out of their sockets. I grunted loudly not the most elegant of sounds but when Alex said “Too tight?” I dismissed him with a testy “Get on with it!”

In fact, it was quite painful, but it only lasted a minute. I think my brother was assessing my limits in order to gauge how receptive the other girls would be.

The style of gagging was a new one for me. Alex instructed me to open my mouth, and he used the first two strips of tape as a cleave gag before sticking several more pieces over my entire mouth. It was rather uncomfortable; but I’ve always believed that a gags purpose is not just for keeping the victim quiet, the same as the pleasure in a full hog-tie is not merely in being immobilized. My last words to Alex were to remind him to be gentle not in applying the tape, but in taking it off.

Alex then returned to Rachel, although I saw she got off with a less severe hog-tie than mine. In the meantime, Sandra was incredible. While Rachel and I were being dealt with, she lay on the carpet, face down, hands behind her back, waiting patiently and silently for her turn to come. This lasted several minutes, and at any time she could have simply got up and ended her part in the game. She never spoke a word, but watched her friends being bound and gagged with an enigmatic smile that conveyed both curiosity and apathy. I began to wonder if this was in fact her first time. (I never asked, but it would have been an astonishing coincidence if she had been a TUGs veteran like myself.)

I should also pay tribute to my brother, who handled the situation with aplomb. How many 14 year-old boys would have the cojones to take control the way he had and methodically tie up three older girls, including his sister, with hardly a whimper of protest from his captives? Furthermore, he worked with alacrity, knowing that at any moment any of us, in particular Sandra, might balk and bring the game to an end. For even my obstreperous little brother was not so foolhardy as to tie up three unwilling victims.

I thought he would go easy on Sandra, just as I was afraid that she would suddenly panic and the fun would be over. I was wrong on both accounts. She gasped and groaned as she was being bound. The fact that she was the only one of us wearing a skirt added to the stress. On the other hand, she was a gymnast, and her supple body gave her a flexibility which made her hog-tie less strenuous than Rachel’s and mine. She started to relax, testing her bonds but showing no pain or fear.

Nevertheless, when Alex held a strip of tape in front of her face, she screeched, “You’re not putting anything in my mouth!” Alex promised he wouldn’t, but she insisted, “I won’t make a sound, I swear.” He ignored her plea, but in fact he didn’t put anything in her mouth; and she didn’t object when the tape went over her mouth.

My brother’s work complete, his three bound captives lay in a row on the living room carpet. Sandra’s and my heads were turned to face each other, and her I don’t believe this is happening expression was priceless. “Look straight ahead,” Alex growled; and I thought “Hey, you can’t tell us what to do” which was comically ironic, given the circumstances.

Although he had us at his mercy, Alex’s interest began to wane once we were helpless. It could hardly have been otherwise. One of his prisoners was his sister, another a novice; and Rachel intimidated him enough that he was not going to single her out for special treatment. So he left us to squirm for a long time. This was ecstasy for me, of course, but Rachel and Sandra also both appeared to enjoy being damsels in distress. My biggest concern was that our parents would come home early and find us like that because Alex didn’t have time to free us.

However, eventually and inevitably, the game ended. Sandra sighed in relief as the tape was peeled off. Alex did a good job in making sure the process was gentle and painless. Since I had suffered the most, when I was released and tried to stand up, I almost collapsed. My friends had to steady me and assist me to the sofa. My brother simply gave me a serves you right look as he gathered up the huge wad of used tape. I don’t know if my mother ever wondered what happened to the roll of masking tape she kept under the kitchen sink.

The rest of the night was remarkably unremarkable. After our parents arrived, Alex and I accompanied Rachel and Sandra as they walked home. My brother played the hero, protecting his three ladies from whatever perils lurked in the moonlight shadows, so different from his role earlier that evening.

More tie-up adventures lay in store for Rachel, but I don’t know about Sandra. We never talked about what transpired that Friday night, but she seemed cool about the whole thing. In fact, I think she may have liked sharing what was, to her, our little guilty secret. As for Alex... I have one more story to tell, but that can be left for another day.

Sarobah
Australia


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Mon Aug 18, 2008 12:39 pm

This story is a nefarious web of untruths and distortions and a reprehensible slander on a fine young man. Trust me, I know.

amensae

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Tue Aug 19, 2008 12:46 am

Great one again, Sarah.

Well, if you do know, tell us the story from your point of view... :)

canuck100
TUG Site Admin

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Tue Aug 19, 2008 3:58 am

Stay tuned. Truth and justice must prevail.

amensae

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freyjaceleste862

Post by freyjaceleste862 »

This is lovely!
qarlcue
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Post by qarlcue »

Another classic from the old site by Sarobah, one of the finest pure tug writers I've read.
The kid in church that giggled at the song, "Bless'd be the tie that binds..."
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