Jon (McA) : A Knotty Problem (mff/self)

[TamatoaShiny123]

(From Canuck Site. Enjoy!)

I seem to have spent about half my waking hours on business travel lately, but I've finally had time to write up another story. It's getting harder; I'm beginning to run out of material. My 'golden age' of tie up games with Bob and Jill ran from about 1964 or 1965 to 1968. (There's nothing before that, and not a lot after.) The individual incidents must number over 100, but the overwhelming majority are not worth writing about. The good stories (in my view) are about incidents which were funny, frightening or bizarre, which changed the way we played or which cast some light on our relationship as kids playing together.

This is another story of a tying-up escapade involving me (age 10), my best friend Bob (age 11) his sister Jill (12). (Regulars here will not need to be reminded that Jill grew up to be Gillian B whose stories grace this page and delight us all.)

We had tried out various tying-up games. We played 'escapes', taking it in turn to be tied up and seeing who could escape. This game was only interesting as long as there was a real chance of escape; we got too good at tying after a while. We progressed to tying each other up at the same time, so all three of us were tied and had to try to escape. This proved problematic. We always used woollen scarves and socks for tying, and it turned out that none of us could get the final few bonds tight enough when we were working with our own hands tied, so escape was absurdly easy.

Jill had, however, acquired from her mum a quantity of discarded nylon stockings. Prior to the events in this story, Jill and Bob had already done some experiments and discovered that stockings were very effective for tying. We had already discovered that chafing was a real risk in tying-up games, so generally made sure that wrists and ankles were protected. Bob and Jill found that nylon stockings could be much worse in this respect and by the time of this story knew that we should take care.

The three of us were alone in Bob and Jill's house (I think it was a Saturday morning and their parents had gone off to do the weekly shopping) and we had chosen the box room as the location for our game. (A 'box room' is a room too small for habitation but intended for storage.) The box room was adjacent to a bedroom and was basically a triangular space tucked under the eaves of the house. It was about twenty feet long and seven wide, with a ceiling height just under six feet one side and at floor level the other side. There were small windows each end and a door into the bedroom. The box room was mainly used for storage, but Bob and Jill had also colonised it as a den.

We probably concocted some scenario to our game (we usually did), possibly we were kidnap victims or had been captured by a spy, but the object was to escape. For realism, we locked the box room door (and hung the key on a hook nearby). As I mentioned, we always took precautions to avoid chafing. Jill was wearing a cardigan over a cotton dress and had borrowed her mother's thick walking stockings to provide ankle and knee protection over her tights. Bob was wearing jeans and tucked the ends of them into thick socks. I had shorts on, so I just borrowed an extra pair of thick socks from Bob.

Bob and Jill started by tying their own ankles and knees with stockings. Jill demonstrated for me by tying my ankles. Rather than binding them, she made a 'tom-fool' knot in a stocking, put my feet through the loops, pulled the ends tight and tied a couple of half hitches with the free ends. The result was resilient enough to be a hobble, rather than a tight binding, but still too snug to wriggle my feet out. As I was wearing shorts, Jill tied my knees with a scarf for comfort, instead of a stocking.

Wrist bonds were also based on a tom-fool knot. Bob started by tying Jill's wrists. He made a tom-fool knot, put her hands (with thick gloves on) through the loops behind her back and knotted off the ends. The stocking was stretchy enough that the ends could be pulled round to the front of Jill's waist and tied together there. Bob finished off by tying a long scarf tightly round Jill's upper arms and chest. Finally he gagged her by putting a handkerchief in her mouth and then tying a scarf over her mouth and nose (Jill never liked cleave gags).

I followed suit by tying Bob in the same way that he had tied Jill, except that I gagged him with a sock as a cleave gag.

Lastly, Bob and Jill finished off tying me up. I assisted as far as I could, by cleave gagging myself with a sock and tying a long scarf round my upper arms and chest. I prepared a tom-fool knot in a stocking, then handed it to Jill. I put on a borrowed pair of mittens (belonging to Jill I think; they were pink), then put my hands behind my back. Jill pulled the ends of the stocking tight, then, working with Bob, knotted them. (Quite an achievement when your hands are tied behind your back and you're gagged.) Again working together, they managed to tie the ends of the stocking together at the front of my waist.

We sat together for a few minutes admiring the realism of the situation we had achieved. When we started to try to free ourselves, however, it became obvious that we had set ourselves a very difficult task. None of us could make any impression on either the stockings binding ourself or either of the others. Anyone who has used nylon stockings for bondage games will have realised the problem; the knots tend to shrink down to pea size and are very difficult to undo, even if you're not wearing woollen gloves and working with your hands tied behind your back. We un-gagged each other and untied the scarves round each other's arms and round my knees and assessed the situation. It was becoming obvious that we were not going to be able to free ourselves easily. We had locked ourselves in, there was nothing in the box room to use to cut our bonds and we were alone in the house. (Not clever!)

It was clear that we had to get out of the box room. Unlocking the door wasn't going to be easy. The door handle and lock were placed quite high up on the door, about four feet from the floor (trendy 1930's house design). We managed to knock the key off the hook and onto the floor quite easily, but with the stockings tying our wrists going round our waists, none of us could get our hands high enough up to put the key in the keyhole. We tried forcing the stocking tying Bob up from waist level (he was the slimmest of us) to get his hands higher, but to no avail.

Bob knelt down on the floor and suggested that I stand on his back to get at the keyhole, but with tied ankles, I couldn't get up onto his back.

Jill next suggested that I sat on her shoulders, so she could lift me to keyhole level. I was the only one with untied knees, so this seemed workable. Jill squatted down with her back to the door and I stood in front of her with my knees apart. With difficulty, she managed to get her head low enough and I did a sort of backwards hop to get my weight onto her shoulders. She straightened up slowly and carefully, leaning against the door as she did so. The first attempt failed and we toppled over, knocking the wind out of both of us. The second attempt succeeded; I got the key in the hole and turned it (not easy behind my back with mittens on). As I pushed down on the door handle, it opened and Jill and I fell backwards into the adjacent bedroom. We were winded, but jubilant.

The three of us now set out for the kitchen. We were able to get upright with a little difficulty (easiest for me as my knees weren't tied) and there was enough slack in our ankle bonds to shuffle along with tiny steps. We were upstairs, so we had to negotiate the staircase on the way. This was actually quite easy; we sat down and bounced down from step to step on our bottoms.

Once in the kitchen, we were able to get the big kitchen scissors out of the cutlery drawer. Wielding scissors with hands tied behind her back wasn't easy, but Jill was able to snip through my wrist bond and I was then able to get my mittens off and free the other two. Despite the wrist and ankle protection, I remember feeling distinctly battered after that experience and had aches and pains in all sorts of unexpected places.

When we played any subsequent games which involved us all being tied up, we made very sure we had an emergency escape plan.

The End

[Canuck100]

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Jon (McA)'s other stories

• Tying Up Jill (mmF/f)
• Tying Bob’s Mum (mm/F)
• Ambushing Mum (McA) (mff/F)
• Jill’s Revenge (Ff/mm)
• Retribution (F/mmf)
• Ambuhing Jill (mmF/f)
• Games with Janet (mm/ff)
• A Knotty Problem (mff/self)
• Pot Boiler (f/m)
• Burglars (mf/mf)
• Babysitting à la Mode (f/m)
• An Evening With Susan and Karen (mf/f)
• Susan gets her own back (f/fm)
• Revenge all round (ff/m, m/ff)
• Handcuffs for Two (mm/fF, Ff/mm)