Prisoner in My Room (ff/m)
Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2018 11:43 pm
I'm resurrecting this from the archives. I hope this is allowed. If not, please delete. Many thanks to [mention]Fordman[/mention], who saved this from the old site and formatted it better. This was the first story I ever wrote. The sequel to this story is also in the archives.
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 1
This happened when I was 14. My sister Lucy was 17. It was the first time I was ever tied up. Our mom was going to be out-of-town that weekend.
“Friday night I need you to make yourself scarce. I’m having a couple of friends over for movie night,” my sister told me.
“Why do I have to leave? This is my house too,” I replied.
“Because, you’re an annoying little brother. And you act all weird around Amy. It’s pretty obvious that you have a crush on her. It’s embarrassing to watch.”
“I do not!”
“Whatever. Just be out of the house by 6:00.”
I thought for a minute, gathering my courage. “How about you tie me up in my room? Then I won’t be able to get in your way.”
“Very funny. You overreact about everything.”
“No, I’m serious. I’ve always wondered what it feels like to be all tied up.”
Lucy’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious. You would rather be tied up in your room than go to a friend’s house?”
“Yeah. It sounds exciting.”
“You are so weird! OK, I’ll tie you up. But I will gag you too. I can’t have you screaming for help ten minutes after I tie you up.”
“Agreed.”
“And you do realize that once my friends come over, I’ll forget all about you? Last time, my friends stayed until about eleven. You could be tied up for at least five hours. Can you deal with that?”
“Do you have experience tying anyone up before?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll probably be terrible at it. I’ll escape in a few minutes. But don’t worry, I’ll stay in my room after I’m free.”
“We’ll see. Do you have any rope?”
“No.”
“I’ll get some tomorrow.”
I decided to put all my perversions on display. “Also, and this is going to sound weird, but …”
“Weirder than wanting to be tied up? I can’t wait to hear this.”
“Can I borrow a pair of your tights? I’d like to wear them when I’m tied up.”
Lucy stared at me until it got really uncomfortable. Then she burst out laughing. “You are full of surprises today! Why not! Anything else?”
“No.”
Lucy got serious. “Rusty, are you gay? If you are, it’s OK.”
“What? No! You just accused me of having a crush on Amy. I’m absolutely not gay!”
“OK! I believe you. But we’re not going to share tights. I’ll buy you a pair of tights that you can keep.”
“Thanks, Sis. You’re OK.”
She got a devious smile on her face. “Don’t thank me. In spite of what you think, I’m going to make sure you stay bound and helpless for five hours. You won’t think its so much fun after the first half-hour.”
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 2
As she was walking away, she asked if I had a color preference for tights.
“Black is fine. But I like the kind that are thick and solid, that you can’t see through.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘opaque’. Be sure to trim your fingernails and toenails. I don’t want you ripping a brand-new pair of tights. I’m really going to enjoy this, Rusty.”
I was getting concerned that she was so enthusiastic about tying me up. I obviously didn’t have to beg her to do it. But I wasn’t too worried. She’s a girl, and fairly petite. She was probably going to tie a short piece of rope around my wrists, and another around my ankles. I was certain I would be able to quickly escape. I only hoped that it would be at least a little challenging. It wouldn’t be very exciting if I escaped the minute she left me alone.
That night and the next day I couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that I was soon going to find out what it felt like to wear tights, and to be all tied up. I could hardly wait. I hoped Lucy remembered to buy me a pair of tights and some rope. Lucy and I acted like everything was normal, especially when our mom was around. Mom had decided that we were old enough to be on our own for a couple of days, and she spent one weekend per month with her boyfriend, who lived several hours away.
Friday afternoon came, and our mom said goodbye to us. She had stocked the refrigerator and freezer for the weekend, made us promise to behave and all the other things moms say when leaving their children.
Lucy and I ate an early dinner. We didn’t talk about my upcoming captivity, so I began to think she had decided to skip the whole thing. But, after she took her dishes to the sink, she came back to the table with a bag and dumped it out. A new package of rope had been cut into several sections already. She was obviously still planning on going through with it! I almost fainted from excitement when I saw all that new white rope!
“Don’t worry – it’s 100 feet of rope. I won’t use all it on you, but it was the smallest package they had. But I will use enough of it,” she said ominously.
She then handed me a new pair of black tights, still in their package, and a new pair of girl’s panties. “Take off the shorts you’re wearing and take off your underwear. Then put on these panties, and then pull the tights on over them. You can leave your shorts off, or put them back on, whichever you prefer.”
“Thanks for buying all this Lucy. But I would rather not wear girl’s panties. I’m not a cross-dresser, well, other than the tights. I’ll just wear my regular underwear.”
“You will do as I say or the deal is off. You’re not going to put tights over bulky jockey shorts. Besides, you will like the smooth feel of these panties. Come back down when you’re ready. I’ll load the dishwasher. Don’t take too long. My friends are coming around six, and I still have to get you tied up. Oh, don’t forget to use the bathroom. It will be awhile before you will be able to go again.”
I took the panties and the package of tights and went to the bathroom. I was trembling with excitement as I removed the wrapper from the tights. I brushed my teeth and used the toilet. I stripped down to just my tee shirt, then put on the panties and then sat down and pulled on the tights. They felt so incredible. I debated whether to put my jean shorts back on or not, but decided to put them back on. As I walked back to the kitchen, I marveled at how good it feels to walk in a pair of tights.
“How do the tights feel?” Lucy asked.
“Great! I love it!”
“They look good on you. I picked the right size. OK, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
I did as she asked, and she crossed my wrists in an x-shape behind me. My heart was pounding with excitement. I could feel her wind the rope horizontally around my wrists, then she made several turns vertically.
“Don’t go easy on me just because I’m your brother. I want it to be challenging.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Going easy on you never crossed my mind. I’ve been watching several videos on the internet about how to tie someone up,” she said as she made a knot and pulled it tightly. “That’s fifteen feet of rope, tied in two directions, with the knot where your fingers can’t reach.”
To my immense pleasure, the rope was very secure. My wrists were held tightly together with absolutely no slack. It hadn’t occurred to me yet that everything Lucy just said would not bode well for me. She had actually been researching how to tie someone up with rope. But for now, I was simply enjoying all these new sensations.
“Is that too tight? Is it cutting off your circulation?”
“It’s very tight, but not too tight. Good job!”
“Now, let’s head to your room. Careful going up the stairs. It’s going to feel different with your hands behind you, and you won’t be able to catch yourself if you fall.”
As I walked up the stairs, I noticed she was right. My center of balance was off with my hands behind me. I climbed slowly, and Lucy walked beside me, lightly holding my arm in case I started to fall. She could be considerate when she wanted to be.
When we got to my bedroom, she told me to lie face-down in the middle of my bed. This isn’t so easy to do when your hands are bound behind you, but I managed to do it. Within seconds I could feel rope being tied tightly around my ankles. Then she passed the rope between my ankles and wound it several times around itself and pulled it tight, which cinched the rope. A secure knot and now my stocking feet were securely tied together.
“I practiced tying my own legs together about ten times,” she said.
Again, this should have set off warning bells in my head. Not only had she been watching instructional videos, but she had actually practiced on herself multiple times. But, I was still on a sensory high, enjoying the feel of wearing tights and having my legs bound with rope.
Next, she rolled me onto my side and began to bind another 15-foot section of rope around my legs, just above my knees. Soon the rope around my knees was tightened, cinched, and knotted. She rolled me back onto my stomach. She began to tie the end of a long piece of rope to the bed frame at the top right corner of my bed. She brought the rope under my right arm, across my back, under my left arm, and pulled it tight. Then she tied the end to the top left corner of my bed frame.
“There,” she said. “Now you won’t be able to get off the bed and hop around. It’s for your own safety.”
“You know, I think I’ve changed my mind. You can untie me now.”
“I hope you’re joking, because there’s no way I’m undoing all this rope now.”
“Could you at least get rid of my pillow? My neck is hurting.”
She pulled the pillow from under my head, and I could now lower my head to a more comfortable position.
She grabbed my ankles and pulled me down toward the foot of the bed until the rope tethering me to the head of the bed was almost painfully tight. Before I could wriggle back up to create some slack, she had tied another rope to the rope that bound my ankles. She pulled it tight and tied the end of the rope to the bed frame at the foot of the bed. I was now unable to raise my feet from the bed.
“Holy cow, Lucy. Don’t you think this is overdoing it a little? I feel like I’m being stretched on a rack. I can’t move.”
“That’s the idea.” She walked to the head of the bed so I could see her. She showed me what was in her hands. It looked like two pairs of tights, similar to the pair I was wearing. “These are a couple of old pairs of tights I was going to throw away soon. Since you like tights so much, I thought I would give them to you. Don’t worry, they’re old but they’ve been washed.”
Lucy and I went to a school that had a very strict dress code. Girls had to wear uniforms and navy-blue tights. Seeing all those girls, including my sister, wearing tights every day is no doubt the cause of my tights obsession.
“They are starting to get holes in them, but they’ll suffice for what I’m about to do.”
I easily guessed where those tights were going. Before I could protest, one pair was pulled over my eyes and tied behind my head.
“Do you have any last requests before you are unable to speak? I probably won’t honor any request, but go ahead.”
“Please, please, please, don’t forget to untie me before you go to bed tonight.”
That was the last intelligible thing I was able to say for quite a while. She tied a knot in the middle of the tights, thrust the knot into my mouth, and pulled the tights back until they were stretched as far as they could. Another knot was tied behind my head.
“I will try to remember to let you go. But last time I had friends over, I had a couple of glasses of Mom’s wine, and I was out like a light until noon the next day. Wine makes me so sleepy.”
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 3
“No!” I tried to say through my thick gag. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Don’t worry. Even if I forget to check on you, you did say on Wednesday that you were confident that you would be able to free yourself in a few minutes. What was it you said about my ability to tie you up? Oh, yes, it was ‘you’ll probably be terrible at it’ because of my lack of experience. Well, goodbye little brother. Remember you promised to stay in your room even after you free yourself.”
With those final taunting words, she flipped off the light. The little sliver of light I was getting at the bottom of my blindfold was gone as my room was plunged into darkness. I had previously closed the shades on my window. I suddenly realized that there is a world of difference between the process of being tied up and the prospect of being left tied up and abandoned. It felt so wonderful while she was binding the rope around me. But now I felt more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. The only person in the entire world who knew of my predicament was my absent-minded sister. I was completely at her mercy, and she gave no indication of showing any. If I was unable to free myself, I was going to stay bound, gagged, and blindfolded like this for at least five hours.
If she had any wine tonight and fell asleep, it could be eighteen hours, if she really slept until noon! I succumbed to total panic. I’m not ashamed to say I started screaming like a little girl. I was thrashing about in a futile effort to get the ropes off of me. At least I intended to thrash about. In reality, I was only able to move a fraction of an inch in any direction. I cursed myself for being so stupid. I had asked for this!
I screamed again as loud as I could, but Lucy was either ignoring me, or truly couldn’t hear me. I suspected it was the latter. I had a big knot of tights filling my mouth, my door was closed, and Lucy was probably downstairs. If she couldn’t hear me now when the house was quiet, I didn’t have a prayer of being heard once her friends arrived and downstairs would be filled with the sounds of girls chatting and laughing and a movie playing.
I started to cry, but I made myself stop. Crying would make my nose run, and I needed my nose for breathing, since my mouth was stuffed. Panic was doing me no good. I had to calm down. I focused on my breathing and tried to relax. Gradually my heart rate slowed, as did my breathing. If I was going to free myself, I had to do it in a calmer way. I wasn’t going to be able to burst out of my bonds in a frenzy. The key to my escape was the rope around my wrists. If I could only loosen the rope a little, I could slip one hand free, and then my total freedom would be a matter of untying all the other knots with my free hands.
That is, if I was able to reach the knots at the head of the bed, even with free hands. I couldn’t see because of my blindfold, and I tried to remember how far away I was from the headboard. That would be incredibly frustrating if I got my wrists free but was unable to untie the rope that held my upper body tethered to the bed. At least I would be able to untie my blindfold and gag, even if my legs and chest remained bound. Then it occurred to me – if my hands were free I could simply put my arms above my head and slip them around the rope that was tied to the headboard. Easy! Then I would simply untie the ropes imprisoning my legs. Or, maybe not. Maybe I would leave my legs tied for a while and enjoy the sensation. But, the whole scenario depended on my getting my hands free. I started to slowly test the rope around my wrists.
Just then the doorbell rang. I soon heard a voice I recognized. It was Amy. It gave me an odd feeling to know that there were other people in the house, while I was on my bed wearing tights and panties, and completely tied up, gagged, and blindfolded. It was actually kind of exciting. Especially since I had a crush on Amy. I would be mortified if she saw me like this, but it gave me a thrill to know she was nearby.
I brought my attention back to my wrist bonds.
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 4
I brought my attention back to my wrist bonds. Instead of frantically tugging, I slowly tried to twist my wrists. There was a tiny bit of movement, but not nearly enough to pull one hand free. Maybe if I continued to flex and twist my wrists, the knot would eventually loosen a bit.
Minutes passed and all I accomplished was sore wrists from rubbing against the rope. If anything, my frantic tugging earlier had made my wrists and hands swell slightly. My efforts only caused the rope to feel even tighter. There seemed no hope of slipping a hand free. Maybe I could reach a knot with my fingers?
Earlier, Lucy told me that the knot was out of reach of my fingers, but I decided to try. This was also doomed to failure. My fingers couldn’t touch any part of the rope, let alone the knot. I again cursed my own stupidity, first for asking to be tied up in the first place, and second for my counter-productive earlier panic. I would let my wrists rest for a few minutes. I held my wrists up as much as possible to try to get the swelling to go down. At least she hadn’t tied my arms to my body, but that was little consolation. I could reach no other bonds even with semi-free arms.
Perhaps I could remove my blindfold? I rubbed my head against the bed, but the bedspread was too slick to cause enough friction to pull the blindfold up. I soon gave up on that. It was just as well. There was nothing to look at in my dark room, and I kind of liked the feel of Lucy’s tights on my face. How about the gag? I tried to push the knot out of my mouth with my tongue, but she had pulled the tights back until they could stretch no more.
Rubbing my gagged mouth on the bed proved to be just as fruitless as trying to get my blindfold off. I gave up attempting to remove either one. I wasn’t too upset about my very secure gag, either. If it had come free, I wouldn’t have yelled for help anyway, not with Amy in the house. I would have been more comfortable without the gag, but it too felt good in a way.
I had probably seen my gag and blindfold being worn on Lucy’s legs. I had always wondered what her tights felt like, but I never worked up the courage to ask her if I could give her a foot massage while she was wearing them. At least I was feeling her tights now, although with my face rather than my hands. The knot in my mouth had a hint of a taste of laundry detergent and fabric softener. All things considered, if you have to be gagged and blindfolded, it’s really not bad if they’re two pairs of a schoolgirl’s tights.
My other bonds were absolutely hopeless. The rope holding my upper body to the bed frame not only prevented me from getting off the bed, but I was incapable of even rolling over onto my side. This inability to change positions would prove to be the most unpleasant aspect of my captivity. Five hours in bondage may have been tolerable if I could occasionally sit up or stand up, but I was destined to be in one position the whole time – face down on the bed. The ropes on my legs held them together in a tight grip.
The rope above my knees served no discernible purpose, as I would have been just as helpless if it hadn’t been tied there. The constriction was just a constant reminder of my inability to remove it. My ankle rope was tight as well, and the rope from there to the foot of the bed kept my feet securely in place.
All of the ropes were very tight, but none seemed to interfere with my circulation. My fingers and toes, about the only part of me that could move, were not tingling or going numb. Lucy sure knew what she was doing. The leg ropes were uncomfortable, but this was the part of my bondage I liked best, thanks in large part to the tights. They felt fantastic, and they provided some protection between my skin and the rope. Wiggling my toes while wearing a pair of tights was a new experience that I liked very much.
I hoped that my wrists and hands had shrunk a little from holding them up, but no such luck. I finally had to accept the fact that I was not going to escape on my own. I felt like crying again, but once more I forced myself not to.
I slowly descended into a state of mind that I’ve since read is called “sub-space.” When someone is in strict bondage and in sensory deprivation due to a gag and blindfold, they sometimes retreat into their own mind, since there is literally nothing else that person can do. I thought I was falling asleep, but it wasn’t sleep. I was actually starting to feel euphoria. It was the most calming and relaxing experience I had felt up to that time. It continued to deepen until I was no longer a helpless captive bound to my bed. I started to feel like I was floating on a cloud. I now call it being “high on bondage.”
My calm relaxation was soon to come to a screeching halt, however.
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 5
I heard my bedroom door open. Lucy is coming to check on me! Maybe I can convince her to untie me now. I had enjoyed my “bondage high,” but I was really ready for freedom. I would no doubt have to promise her some big-time favors to get her to untie me early.
“I want to show you something,” Lucy said. Well, I thought, you need to remove my blindfold first. My light was switched on. I suddenly knew that Lucy had not been talking to me when someone gasped.
“Oh my god!” I heard. My heart sank as I recognized the voice. Amy was in my room. Amy was looking at me. I moaned in frustration.
“Lucy, you’re so mean! Why did you do this to him?”
If there was ever a time in my life I wished that I was dead, this was it. If I had a button that would have made me disappear in a puff of smoke never to return, I would have pushed it. If I had to live through this humiliation, at least I could begin plotting a way to punish my sister for her treachery.
How could she do this to me? I hadn’t told her not to tell any of her friends about this, but I had thought that would be obvious. After all, Lucy’s main reason for agreeing to this was so that I would be forgotten and not interfere with her time with her friends. Now she was bringing her friends up to gawk at me?
“You’re terrible! I can’t believe you! How long has he been tied up?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
Forty-five minutes? I haven’t even been tied up for an hour yet? That can’t be! It felt like hours!
“Untie him right now!”
Lucy must have indicated she wouldn’t, because then I heard Amy say, “Forget it. I’ll untie him myself.”
“Amy, wait. Calm down. He asked me to do this to him.”
“Yeah, right. How dumb do you think I am?”
“No, really, he wanted this. We’ve been planning this for two days.”
“I’m going to have to hear him say so. And, why is he wearing tights?”
“He … well, that was my idea. I told him I would tie him up on the condition that he wear a pair of my school tights. I just wanted to see how they looked on him. I told him that it would protect his legs from rope marks.”
I had no idea why Lucy was lying about the tights, but at least it made me seem a little less pathetic. Having Amy know I asked to be tied up was bad enough, but I was glad she didn’t know that wearing tights was my idea.
“Rusty, it’s Amy,” as if I didn’t know. “I’m going to take off your gag.”
The gag came out, damp with my saliva. Another thing to add to my embarrassment.
“Rusty, did you really ask Lucy to tie you up?”
For a second, I thought about lying. PLEASE HELP ME! MY SISTER DRUGGED ME AND TIED ME UP! but I simply sighed and said “yes.”
“Why on earth did you ask her to do this?”
“I’ve just always wondered what it would feel like to be tied up. When Lucy told me to stay away tonight, I suggested being tied up in my room.”
“There’s always something new going on in this house, I must say. Now that you’ve been tied up, how do you like it?”
“I have mixed feelings about it. It’s the best and worst evening of my life. Lucy, are you there?” No one had removed my blindfold.
“Yeah, I’m here. How are you doing?”
“I can’t believe you’re showing me off to your friends. I’m going to kill you. Who else is in here?”
“It’s just me and Amy. Kara texted and said she couldn’t make it. That’s when I decided to show Amy what I did to you. If Kara had come, there’s no way I would have shown her. She has a big mouth, and news of you being my damsel in distress would have been all over school on Monday.”
“Why did you have to tell Amy? I’m so embarrassed. I wish I were dead.”
“I didn’t tell her. I showed her.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Rusty,” Amy interjected. “If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I promise I won’t. And please don’t be embarrassed. I was shocked at first, but now I think it’s cool that you trust your sister enough to ask her to do this to you. I wish I had a brother so I could tie him up! Do you want to be untied now?”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lucy interjected before I could answer. “He knew from the start that if he couldn’t free himself, he would remain tied up until at least 11 o’clock. Just because you know about it now, doesn’t change anything.”
“Lucy, could you let me talk privately with Rusty for a few minutes?”
“Fine. I need to use the bathroom anyway. But don’t let him talk you into untying him.”
I could hear Lucy leaving, and then I heard Amy close my bedroom door. She came back and sat on my bed. AMY IS SITTING ON MY BED! AMY AND I ARE ON THE SAME BED! This was the closest I’ve ever been to Amy (even though I couldn’t see her) and it was already the longest conversation we’ve ever had. Usually we just said hi or bye to each other.
“She can be so overbearing! How do you live with her?” Amy asked.
“It’s not easy. What time is it?”
“About 6:30.”
Lucy was right. She had started to tie me up at 5:45. It really had been only 45 minutes ago.
“She’s not here now. You can speak freely. Do you want me to loosen all the knots so that you can get free after Lucy and I go back to our movie?”
This was my opportunity to say yes. This was my chance to get just enough help that I could free myself whenever I wanted. However, this is what came out of my mouth: “No, thanks. I’m OK.”
“Are you sure? Lucy wouldn’t have to know. It would be our little secret.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It would feel like cheating. Lucy’s right. I knew what I was getting into from the start. I either need to free myself or wait until 11:00.”
Why did I pass up this chance? To this day I don’t know. I was aching for freedom. I was so tired of being on this bed unable to move. Somehow, though, I didn’t feel it was fair to get help. If I had been a kidnap victim, I couldn’t get free just by asking my captor to loosen my bonds a little. I didn’t, however, feel it was cheating to ask for one thing.
“I will ask for a small favor, though. Could you remove the rope that’s keeping me tied to the head of the bed? It’s the only rope that really hurts, and I would love to be able to lie on my side for a while.”
“No problem,” she replied. In a minute I could feel a sudden slack in the rope. She pulled it from under my armpits and suddenly my least favorite piece of rope was tossed aside. I felt so much better.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“My pleasure!” she said as she began to massage my shoulders. AMY IS SITTING ON MY BED MASSAGING MY SHOULDERS!
“Thank you, that feels so good. My shoulders were getting sore.”
Of course, my annoying sister had to pick that exact moment to open the door and interrupt us. “Are you done raping my bound and helpless brother yet?”
“You’re so crude, Lucy,” Amy said in disgust.
“Wait, did you untie the rope that was keeping him on the bed? I didn’t say you could do that. Now I’m going to have to replace it.”
“Please don’t, Lucy,” Amy begged. “He could have asked me to untie him, but he didn’t. The only thing he asked for was for that one rope to be removed. He’s still tied up more than enough. You can’t really be this mean.”
“Yeah, Lucy. Please. That rope was hurting me.”
“I tied it for his own good, so he wouldn’t tumble from the bed and hurt himself.”
“His feet are still tied to the bed," Amy pointed out.
“Yeah, but now if he tumbles off, his feet are going to stay put, but the rest of him could fall off. He could twist or dislocate a joint doing that.”
“Rusty, do you promise not to squirm too much? Try to stay in the middle of the bed, OK?”
“I promise.”
“See? He’ll be good,” Amy said on my behalf.
“OK, but he has to pay a penalty. Rusty, it’s your choice. Choice #1: I tie you back to the headboard, and I will untie you at eleven o’clock as originally planned. Or, choice #2: I leave this rope off, but you get an additional half-hour of being tied up. You would then be released at 11:30.”
“An extra half-hour?” Amy exclaimed. “Lucy, that’s excessive! Eleven o’clock was already too much!”
“It’s up to him. What will it be, Rusty?”
I thought for a second. “How about an extra half-hour, but you also remove the rope that’s tied from my ankles to the bed.” I thought that was a good compromise. I was eager to try standing up once the girls left.
“What makes you think you’re in a position to negotiate? I gave you a choice. It involves removing no other ropes.”
“OK, I’ll take the extra half-hour. Amy, will you still be here at 11:30? I need a back-up rescuer in case Lucy falls asleep before then.”
“Yes, in fact, I already asked my parents if I could stay the night.”
I was very happy to hear that.
“Let’s gag him again and go back to our movie.”
“You know,” said Amy, ignoring Lucy, as she ran her hand up and down my legs, “he looks really good in tights.” AMY IS MASSAGING MY LEGS! I was not kidding when I said this was both the worst and best evening I’ve had in my life.
“In fact,” Amy continued, “he looks a lot better in tights than I do.” I knew this to be a blatant lie, since I had seen Amy wearing her school skirt and tights hundreds of times. No one in the world looks better in tights than Amy does. At least once a week she would come to our house after school and kick off her shoes by the front door and walked around in her skirt, opaque tights, and stocking feet. This is probably why Lucy thinks I act weird when Amy is around. I would try to watch Amy’s legs and feet without trying to make it obvious that I was watching. How many times did I fantasize about Amy asking me to massage her legs and feet? Now my fantasy was occurring, but completely twisted around – I was the one wearing tights, and she was massaging my legs!
“Yeah, he looks good in them, but try not to give him a swelled head about it.”
Amy continued to massage my legs and feet while Lucy shoved the wet knot of tights back in my mouth, pulled them back every bit as tightly as she had done before (maybe even tighter) and tied the tights behind my head. Once again, I was silenced. Amy got off the bed and bent close to my head. She stroked the top of my head and said, “See you later, Rusty.”
“I know that I said if you free yourself, you have to stay in your room,” said my sister. “But I’m feeling generous. If you do escape, I think you deserve to come downstairs and have a snack with us. Oh, and leave your tights on. Amy seems to like how you look in them.”
The lights were turned off again, and the door closed. I could hear the two girls giggling as they went away, but the sound of them faded away and I was once again abandoned in total darkness and silence.
I took the opportunity to roll over onto my side. It felt like such a luxury to be able to change positions. I had nearly died of embarrassment when Amy saw me all tied up wearing tights. Now, I was so glad she did. Because of her, I had a little bit more freedom, and my armpits and back weren’t sore from the rope that used to keep me face down. Also, I loved the way she had massaged my shoulders and legs. She is so pretty, I wish I could have seen her, but neither girl had removed my blindfold. The thing I was most grateful for was that now someone other than my sister knew I was tied up in my room. If my scatterbrained sister drank some wine and fell asleep, Amy would untie me.
I no longer feared being tied up until noon tomorrow. I did still face many more hours of being bound, gagged, and blindfolded, even if I had a little more freedom than before. Eleven o’clock was still four and a half hours away. No, it was to be a full five hours again now that I had agreed to the extra half-hour, I reminded myself.
I again tested my wrist rope, but it was every bit as tight as before. Would I regret that I turned down Amy’s offer to loosen my bonds? Probably. But the memory of Amy sitting on my bed and massaging me made it all worthwhile. Now that I was slightly more comfortable, I was able to enjoy my bondage even more. I felt warm and cozy in my tights. My bonds were as tight and inescapable as before, but I really had no desire right now to be free. I was back in my “bondage high”, or maybe I was high on Amy’s massages. I was so content I began to doze off, which was good. It would make the time seem to pass quicker.
To be continued ...
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 1
This happened when I was 14. My sister Lucy was 17. It was the first time I was ever tied up. Our mom was going to be out-of-town that weekend.
“Friday night I need you to make yourself scarce. I’m having a couple of friends over for movie night,” my sister told me.
“Why do I have to leave? This is my house too,” I replied.
“Because, you’re an annoying little brother. And you act all weird around Amy. It’s pretty obvious that you have a crush on her. It’s embarrassing to watch.”
“I do not!”
“Whatever. Just be out of the house by 6:00.”
I thought for a minute, gathering my courage. “How about you tie me up in my room? Then I won’t be able to get in your way.”
“Very funny. You overreact about everything.”
“No, I’m serious. I’ve always wondered what it feels like to be all tied up.”
Lucy’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious. You would rather be tied up in your room than go to a friend’s house?”
“Yeah. It sounds exciting.”
“You are so weird! OK, I’ll tie you up. But I will gag you too. I can’t have you screaming for help ten minutes after I tie you up.”
“Agreed.”
“And you do realize that once my friends come over, I’ll forget all about you? Last time, my friends stayed until about eleven. You could be tied up for at least five hours. Can you deal with that?”
“Do you have experience tying anyone up before?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll probably be terrible at it. I’ll escape in a few minutes. But don’t worry, I’ll stay in my room after I’m free.”
“We’ll see. Do you have any rope?”
“No.”
“I’ll get some tomorrow.”
I decided to put all my perversions on display. “Also, and this is going to sound weird, but …”
“Weirder than wanting to be tied up? I can’t wait to hear this.”
“Can I borrow a pair of your tights? I’d like to wear them when I’m tied up.”
Lucy stared at me until it got really uncomfortable. Then she burst out laughing. “You are full of surprises today! Why not! Anything else?”
“No.”
Lucy got serious. “Rusty, are you gay? If you are, it’s OK.”
“What? No! You just accused me of having a crush on Amy. I’m absolutely not gay!”
“OK! I believe you. But we’re not going to share tights. I’ll buy you a pair of tights that you can keep.”
“Thanks, Sis. You’re OK.”
She got a devious smile on her face. “Don’t thank me. In spite of what you think, I’m going to make sure you stay bound and helpless for five hours. You won’t think its so much fun after the first half-hour.”
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 2
As she was walking away, she asked if I had a color preference for tights.
“Black is fine. But I like the kind that are thick and solid, that you can’t see through.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘opaque’. Be sure to trim your fingernails and toenails. I don’t want you ripping a brand-new pair of tights. I’m really going to enjoy this, Rusty.”
I was getting concerned that she was so enthusiastic about tying me up. I obviously didn’t have to beg her to do it. But I wasn’t too worried. She’s a girl, and fairly petite. She was probably going to tie a short piece of rope around my wrists, and another around my ankles. I was certain I would be able to quickly escape. I only hoped that it would be at least a little challenging. It wouldn’t be very exciting if I escaped the minute she left me alone.
That night and the next day I couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that I was soon going to find out what it felt like to wear tights, and to be all tied up. I could hardly wait. I hoped Lucy remembered to buy me a pair of tights and some rope. Lucy and I acted like everything was normal, especially when our mom was around. Mom had decided that we were old enough to be on our own for a couple of days, and she spent one weekend per month with her boyfriend, who lived several hours away.
Friday afternoon came, and our mom said goodbye to us. She had stocked the refrigerator and freezer for the weekend, made us promise to behave and all the other things moms say when leaving their children.
Lucy and I ate an early dinner. We didn’t talk about my upcoming captivity, so I began to think she had decided to skip the whole thing. But, after she took her dishes to the sink, she came back to the table with a bag and dumped it out. A new package of rope had been cut into several sections already. She was obviously still planning on going through with it! I almost fainted from excitement when I saw all that new white rope!
“Don’t worry – it’s 100 feet of rope. I won’t use all it on you, but it was the smallest package they had. But I will use enough of it,” she said ominously.
She then handed me a new pair of black tights, still in their package, and a new pair of girl’s panties. “Take off the shorts you’re wearing and take off your underwear. Then put on these panties, and then pull the tights on over them. You can leave your shorts off, or put them back on, whichever you prefer.”
“Thanks for buying all this Lucy. But I would rather not wear girl’s panties. I’m not a cross-dresser, well, other than the tights. I’ll just wear my regular underwear.”
“You will do as I say or the deal is off. You’re not going to put tights over bulky jockey shorts. Besides, you will like the smooth feel of these panties. Come back down when you’re ready. I’ll load the dishwasher. Don’t take too long. My friends are coming around six, and I still have to get you tied up. Oh, don’t forget to use the bathroom. It will be awhile before you will be able to go again.”
I took the panties and the package of tights and went to the bathroom. I was trembling with excitement as I removed the wrapper from the tights. I brushed my teeth and used the toilet. I stripped down to just my tee shirt, then put on the panties and then sat down and pulled on the tights. They felt so incredible. I debated whether to put my jean shorts back on or not, but decided to put them back on. As I walked back to the kitchen, I marveled at how good it feels to walk in a pair of tights.
“How do the tights feel?” Lucy asked.
“Great! I love it!”
“They look good on you. I picked the right size. OK, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
I did as she asked, and she crossed my wrists in an x-shape behind me. My heart was pounding with excitement. I could feel her wind the rope horizontally around my wrists, then she made several turns vertically.
“Don’t go easy on me just because I’m your brother. I want it to be challenging.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Going easy on you never crossed my mind. I’ve been watching several videos on the internet about how to tie someone up,” she said as she made a knot and pulled it tightly. “That’s fifteen feet of rope, tied in two directions, with the knot where your fingers can’t reach.”
To my immense pleasure, the rope was very secure. My wrists were held tightly together with absolutely no slack. It hadn’t occurred to me yet that everything Lucy just said would not bode well for me. She had actually been researching how to tie someone up with rope. But for now, I was simply enjoying all these new sensations.
“Is that too tight? Is it cutting off your circulation?”
“It’s very tight, but not too tight. Good job!”
“Now, let’s head to your room. Careful going up the stairs. It’s going to feel different with your hands behind you, and you won’t be able to catch yourself if you fall.”
As I walked up the stairs, I noticed she was right. My center of balance was off with my hands behind me. I climbed slowly, and Lucy walked beside me, lightly holding my arm in case I started to fall. She could be considerate when she wanted to be.
When we got to my bedroom, she told me to lie face-down in the middle of my bed. This isn’t so easy to do when your hands are bound behind you, but I managed to do it. Within seconds I could feel rope being tied tightly around my ankles. Then she passed the rope between my ankles and wound it several times around itself and pulled it tight, which cinched the rope. A secure knot and now my stocking feet were securely tied together.
“I practiced tying my own legs together about ten times,” she said.
Again, this should have set off warning bells in my head. Not only had she been watching instructional videos, but she had actually practiced on herself multiple times. But, I was still on a sensory high, enjoying the feel of wearing tights and having my legs bound with rope.
Next, she rolled me onto my side and began to bind another 15-foot section of rope around my legs, just above my knees. Soon the rope around my knees was tightened, cinched, and knotted. She rolled me back onto my stomach. She began to tie the end of a long piece of rope to the bed frame at the top right corner of my bed. She brought the rope under my right arm, across my back, under my left arm, and pulled it tight. Then she tied the end to the top left corner of my bed frame.
“There,” she said. “Now you won’t be able to get off the bed and hop around. It’s for your own safety.”
“You know, I think I’ve changed my mind. You can untie me now.”
“I hope you’re joking, because there’s no way I’m undoing all this rope now.”
“Could you at least get rid of my pillow? My neck is hurting.”
She pulled the pillow from under my head, and I could now lower my head to a more comfortable position.
She grabbed my ankles and pulled me down toward the foot of the bed until the rope tethering me to the head of the bed was almost painfully tight. Before I could wriggle back up to create some slack, she had tied another rope to the rope that bound my ankles. She pulled it tight and tied the end of the rope to the bed frame at the foot of the bed. I was now unable to raise my feet from the bed.
“Holy cow, Lucy. Don’t you think this is overdoing it a little? I feel like I’m being stretched on a rack. I can’t move.”
“That’s the idea.” She walked to the head of the bed so I could see her. She showed me what was in her hands. It looked like two pairs of tights, similar to the pair I was wearing. “These are a couple of old pairs of tights I was going to throw away soon. Since you like tights so much, I thought I would give them to you. Don’t worry, they’re old but they’ve been washed.”
Lucy and I went to a school that had a very strict dress code. Girls had to wear uniforms and navy-blue tights. Seeing all those girls, including my sister, wearing tights every day is no doubt the cause of my tights obsession.
“They are starting to get holes in them, but they’ll suffice for what I’m about to do.”
I easily guessed where those tights were going. Before I could protest, one pair was pulled over my eyes and tied behind my head.
“Do you have any last requests before you are unable to speak? I probably won’t honor any request, but go ahead.”
“Please, please, please, don’t forget to untie me before you go to bed tonight.”
That was the last intelligible thing I was able to say for quite a while. She tied a knot in the middle of the tights, thrust the knot into my mouth, and pulled the tights back until they were stretched as far as they could. Another knot was tied behind my head.
“I will try to remember to let you go. But last time I had friends over, I had a couple of glasses of Mom’s wine, and I was out like a light until noon the next day. Wine makes me so sleepy.”
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 3
“No!” I tried to say through my thick gag. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
“Don’t worry. Even if I forget to check on you, you did say on Wednesday that you were confident that you would be able to free yourself in a few minutes. What was it you said about my ability to tie you up? Oh, yes, it was ‘you’ll probably be terrible at it’ because of my lack of experience. Well, goodbye little brother. Remember you promised to stay in your room even after you free yourself.”
With those final taunting words, she flipped off the light. The little sliver of light I was getting at the bottom of my blindfold was gone as my room was plunged into darkness. I had previously closed the shades on my window. I suddenly realized that there is a world of difference between the process of being tied up and the prospect of being left tied up and abandoned. It felt so wonderful while she was binding the rope around me. But now I felt more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. The only person in the entire world who knew of my predicament was my absent-minded sister. I was completely at her mercy, and she gave no indication of showing any. If I was unable to free myself, I was going to stay bound, gagged, and blindfolded like this for at least five hours.
If she had any wine tonight and fell asleep, it could be eighteen hours, if she really slept until noon! I succumbed to total panic. I’m not ashamed to say I started screaming like a little girl. I was thrashing about in a futile effort to get the ropes off of me. At least I intended to thrash about. In reality, I was only able to move a fraction of an inch in any direction. I cursed myself for being so stupid. I had asked for this!
I screamed again as loud as I could, but Lucy was either ignoring me, or truly couldn’t hear me. I suspected it was the latter. I had a big knot of tights filling my mouth, my door was closed, and Lucy was probably downstairs. If she couldn’t hear me now when the house was quiet, I didn’t have a prayer of being heard once her friends arrived and downstairs would be filled with the sounds of girls chatting and laughing and a movie playing.
I started to cry, but I made myself stop. Crying would make my nose run, and I needed my nose for breathing, since my mouth was stuffed. Panic was doing me no good. I had to calm down. I focused on my breathing and tried to relax. Gradually my heart rate slowed, as did my breathing. If I was going to free myself, I had to do it in a calmer way. I wasn’t going to be able to burst out of my bonds in a frenzy. The key to my escape was the rope around my wrists. If I could only loosen the rope a little, I could slip one hand free, and then my total freedom would be a matter of untying all the other knots with my free hands.
That is, if I was able to reach the knots at the head of the bed, even with free hands. I couldn’t see because of my blindfold, and I tried to remember how far away I was from the headboard. That would be incredibly frustrating if I got my wrists free but was unable to untie the rope that held my upper body tethered to the bed. At least I would be able to untie my blindfold and gag, even if my legs and chest remained bound. Then it occurred to me – if my hands were free I could simply put my arms above my head and slip them around the rope that was tied to the headboard. Easy! Then I would simply untie the ropes imprisoning my legs. Or, maybe not. Maybe I would leave my legs tied for a while and enjoy the sensation. But, the whole scenario depended on my getting my hands free. I started to slowly test the rope around my wrists.
Just then the doorbell rang. I soon heard a voice I recognized. It was Amy. It gave me an odd feeling to know that there were other people in the house, while I was on my bed wearing tights and panties, and completely tied up, gagged, and blindfolded. It was actually kind of exciting. Especially since I had a crush on Amy. I would be mortified if she saw me like this, but it gave me a thrill to know she was nearby.
I brought my attention back to my wrist bonds.
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 4
I brought my attention back to my wrist bonds. Instead of frantically tugging, I slowly tried to twist my wrists. There was a tiny bit of movement, but not nearly enough to pull one hand free. Maybe if I continued to flex and twist my wrists, the knot would eventually loosen a bit.
Minutes passed and all I accomplished was sore wrists from rubbing against the rope. If anything, my frantic tugging earlier had made my wrists and hands swell slightly. My efforts only caused the rope to feel even tighter. There seemed no hope of slipping a hand free. Maybe I could reach a knot with my fingers?
Earlier, Lucy told me that the knot was out of reach of my fingers, but I decided to try. This was also doomed to failure. My fingers couldn’t touch any part of the rope, let alone the knot. I again cursed my own stupidity, first for asking to be tied up in the first place, and second for my counter-productive earlier panic. I would let my wrists rest for a few minutes. I held my wrists up as much as possible to try to get the swelling to go down. At least she hadn’t tied my arms to my body, but that was little consolation. I could reach no other bonds even with semi-free arms.
Perhaps I could remove my blindfold? I rubbed my head against the bed, but the bedspread was too slick to cause enough friction to pull the blindfold up. I soon gave up on that. It was just as well. There was nothing to look at in my dark room, and I kind of liked the feel of Lucy’s tights on my face. How about the gag? I tried to push the knot out of my mouth with my tongue, but she had pulled the tights back until they could stretch no more.
Rubbing my gagged mouth on the bed proved to be just as fruitless as trying to get my blindfold off. I gave up attempting to remove either one. I wasn’t too upset about my very secure gag, either. If it had come free, I wouldn’t have yelled for help anyway, not with Amy in the house. I would have been more comfortable without the gag, but it too felt good in a way.
I had probably seen my gag and blindfold being worn on Lucy’s legs. I had always wondered what her tights felt like, but I never worked up the courage to ask her if I could give her a foot massage while she was wearing them. At least I was feeling her tights now, although with my face rather than my hands. The knot in my mouth had a hint of a taste of laundry detergent and fabric softener. All things considered, if you have to be gagged and blindfolded, it’s really not bad if they’re two pairs of a schoolgirl’s tights.
My other bonds were absolutely hopeless. The rope holding my upper body to the bed frame not only prevented me from getting off the bed, but I was incapable of even rolling over onto my side. This inability to change positions would prove to be the most unpleasant aspect of my captivity. Five hours in bondage may have been tolerable if I could occasionally sit up or stand up, but I was destined to be in one position the whole time – face down on the bed. The ropes on my legs held them together in a tight grip.
The rope above my knees served no discernible purpose, as I would have been just as helpless if it hadn’t been tied there. The constriction was just a constant reminder of my inability to remove it. My ankle rope was tight as well, and the rope from there to the foot of the bed kept my feet securely in place.
All of the ropes were very tight, but none seemed to interfere with my circulation. My fingers and toes, about the only part of me that could move, were not tingling or going numb. Lucy sure knew what she was doing. The leg ropes were uncomfortable, but this was the part of my bondage I liked best, thanks in large part to the tights. They felt fantastic, and they provided some protection between my skin and the rope. Wiggling my toes while wearing a pair of tights was a new experience that I liked very much.
I hoped that my wrists and hands had shrunk a little from holding them up, but no such luck. I finally had to accept the fact that I was not going to escape on my own. I felt like crying again, but once more I forced myself not to.
I slowly descended into a state of mind that I’ve since read is called “sub-space.” When someone is in strict bondage and in sensory deprivation due to a gag and blindfold, they sometimes retreat into their own mind, since there is literally nothing else that person can do. I thought I was falling asleep, but it wasn’t sleep. I was actually starting to feel euphoria. It was the most calming and relaxing experience I had felt up to that time. It continued to deepen until I was no longer a helpless captive bound to my bed. I started to feel like I was floating on a cloud. I now call it being “high on bondage.”
My calm relaxation was soon to come to a screeching halt, however.
Prisoner in My Room, chapter 5
I heard my bedroom door open. Lucy is coming to check on me! Maybe I can convince her to untie me now. I had enjoyed my “bondage high,” but I was really ready for freedom. I would no doubt have to promise her some big-time favors to get her to untie me early.
“I want to show you something,” Lucy said. Well, I thought, you need to remove my blindfold first. My light was switched on. I suddenly knew that Lucy had not been talking to me when someone gasped.
“Oh my god!” I heard. My heart sank as I recognized the voice. Amy was in my room. Amy was looking at me. I moaned in frustration.
“Lucy, you’re so mean! Why did you do this to him?”
If there was ever a time in my life I wished that I was dead, this was it. If I had a button that would have made me disappear in a puff of smoke never to return, I would have pushed it. If I had to live through this humiliation, at least I could begin plotting a way to punish my sister for her treachery.
How could she do this to me? I hadn’t told her not to tell any of her friends about this, but I had thought that would be obvious. After all, Lucy’s main reason for agreeing to this was so that I would be forgotten and not interfere with her time with her friends. Now she was bringing her friends up to gawk at me?
“You’re terrible! I can’t believe you! How long has he been tied up?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
Forty-five minutes? I haven’t even been tied up for an hour yet? That can’t be! It felt like hours!
“Untie him right now!”
Lucy must have indicated she wouldn’t, because then I heard Amy say, “Forget it. I’ll untie him myself.”
“Amy, wait. Calm down. He asked me to do this to him.”
“Yeah, right. How dumb do you think I am?”
“No, really, he wanted this. We’ve been planning this for two days.”
“I’m going to have to hear him say so. And, why is he wearing tights?”
“He … well, that was my idea. I told him I would tie him up on the condition that he wear a pair of my school tights. I just wanted to see how they looked on him. I told him that it would protect his legs from rope marks.”
I had no idea why Lucy was lying about the tights, but at least it made me seem a little less pathetic. Having Amy know I asked to be tied up was bad enough, but I was glad she didn’t know that wearing tights was my idea.
“Rusty, it’s Amy,” as if I didn’t know. “I’m going to take off your gag.”
The gag came out, damp with my saliva. Another thing to add to my embarrassment.
“Rusty, did you really ask Lucy to tie you up?”
For a second, I thought about lying. PLEASE HELP ME! MY SISTER DRUGGED ME AND TIED ME UP! but I simply sighed and said “yes.”
“Why on earth did you ask her to do this?”
“I’ve just always wondered what it would feel like to be tied up. When Lucy told me to stay away tonight, I suggested being tied up in my room.”
“There’s always something new going on in this house, I must say. Now that you’ve been tied up, how do you like it?”
“I have mixed feelings about it. It’s the best and worst evening of my life. Lucy, are you there?” No one had removed my blindfold.
“Yeah, I’m here. How are you doing?”
“I can’t believe you’re showing me off to your friends. I’m going to kill you. Who else is in here?”
“It’s just me and Amy. Kara texted and said she couldn’t make it. That’s when I decided to show Amy what I did to you. If Kara had come, there’s no way I would have shown her. She has a big mouth, and news of you being my damsel in distress would have been all over school on Monday.”
“Why did you have to tell Amy? I’m so embarrassed. I wish I were dead.”
“I didn’t tell her. I showed her.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Rusty,” Amy interjected. “If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I promise I won’t. And please don’t be embarrassed. I was shocked at first, but now I think it’s cool that you trust your sister enough to ask her to do this to you. I wish I had a brother so I could tie him up! Do you want to be untied now?”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lucy interjected before I could answer. “He knew from the start that if he couldn’t free himself, he would remain tied up until at least 11 o’clock. Just because you know about it now, doesn’t change anything.”
“Lucy, could you let me talk privately with Rusty for a few minutes?”
“Fine. I need to use the bathroom anyway. But don’t let him talk you into untying him.”
I could hear Lucy leaving, and then I heard Amy close my bedroom door. She came back and sat on my bed. AMY IS SITTING ON MY BED! AMY AND I ARE ON THE SAME BED! This was the closest I’ve ever been to Amy (even though I couldn’t see her) and it was already the longest conversation we’ve ever had. Usually we just said hi or bye to each other.
“She can be so overbearing! How do you live with her?” Amy asked.
“It’s not easy. What time is it?”
“About 6:30.”
Lucy was right. She had started to tie me up at 5:45. It really had been only 45 minutes ago.
“She’s not here now. You can speak freely. Do you want me to loosen all the knots so that you can get free after Lucy and I go back to our movie?”
This was my opportunity to say yes. This was my chance to get just enough help that I could free myself whenever I wanted. However, this is what came out of my mouth: “No, thanks. I’m OK.”
“Are you sure? Lucy wouldn’t have to know. It would be our little secret.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It would feel like cheating. Lucy’s right. I knew what I was getting into from the start. I either need to free myself or wait until 11:00.”
Why did I pass up this chance? To this day I don’t know. I was aching for freedom. I was so tired of being on this bed unable to move. Somehow, though, I didn’t feel it was fair to get help. If I had been a kidnap victim, I couldn’t get free just by asking my captor to loosen my bonds a little. I didn’t, however, feel it was cheating to ask for one thing.
“I will ask for a small favor, though. Could you remove the rope that’s keeping me tied to the head of the bed? It’s the only rope that really hurts, and I would love to be able to lie on my side for a while.”
“No problem,” she replied. In a minute I could feel a sudden slack in the rope. She pulled it from under my armpits and suddenly my least favorite piece of rope was tossed aside. I felt so much better.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“My pleasure!” she said as she began to massage my shoulders. AMY IS SITTING ON MY BED MASSAGING MY SHOULDERS!
“Thank you, that feels so good. My shoulders were getting sore.”
Of course, my annoying sister had to pick that exact moment to open the door and interrupt us. “Are you done raping my bound and helpless brother yet?”
“You’re so crude, Lucy,” Amy said in disgust.
“Wait, did you untie the rope that was keeping him on the bed? I didn’t say you could do that. Now I’m going to have to replace it.”
“Please don’t, Lucy,” Amy begged. “He could have asked me to untie him, but he didn’t. The only thing he asked for was for that one rope to be removed. He’s still tied up more than enough. You can’t really be this mean.”
“Yeah, Lucy. Please. That rope was hurting me.”
“I tied it for his own good, so he wouldn’t tumble from the bed and hurt himself.”
“His feet are still tied to the bed," Amy pointed out.
“Yeah, but now if he tumbles off, his feet are going to stay put, but the rest of him could fall off. He could twist or dislocate a joint doing that.”
“Rusty, do you promise not to squirm too much? Try to stay in the middle of the bed, OK?”
“I promise.”
“See? He’ll be good,” Amy said on my behalf.
“OK, but he has to pay a penalty. Rusty, it’s your choice. Choice #1: I tie you back to the headboard, and I will untie you at eleven o’clock as originally planned. Or, choice #2: I leave this rope off, but you get an additional half-hour of being tied up. You would then be released at 11:30.”
“An extra half-hour?” Amy exclaimed. “Lucy, that’s excessive! Eleven o’clock was already too much!”
“It’s up to him. What will it be, Rusty?”
I thought for a second. “How about an extra half-hour, but you also remove the rope that’s tied from my ankles to the bed.” I thought that was a good compromise. I was eager to try standing up once the girls left.
“What makes you think you’re in a position to negotiate? I gave you a choice. It involves removing no other ropes.”
“OK, I’ll take the extra half-hour. Amy, will you still be here at 11:30? I need a back-up rescuer in case Lucy falls asleep before then.”
“Yes, in fact, I already asked my parents if I could stay the night.”
I was very happy to hear that.
“Let’s gag him again and go back to our movie.”
“You know,” said Amy, ignoring Lucy, as she ran her hand up and down my legs, “he looks really good in tights.” AMY IS MASSAGING MY LEGS! I was not kidding when I said this was both the worst and best evening I’ve had in my life.
“In fact,” Amy continued, “he looks a lot better in tights than I do.” I knew this to be a blatant lie, since I had seen Amy wearing her school skirt and tights hundreds of times. No one in the world looks better in tights than Amy does. At least once a week she would come to our house after school and kick off her shoes by the front door and walked around in her skirt, opaque tights, and stocking feet. This is probably why Lucy thinks I act weird when Amy is around. I would try to watch Amy’s legs and feet without trying to make it obvious that I was watching. How many times did I fantasize about Amy asking me to massage her legs and feet? Now my fantasy was occurring, but completely twisted around – I was the one wearing tights, and she was massaging my legs!
“Yeah, he looks good in them, but try not to give him a swelled head about it.”
Amy continued to massage my legs and feet while Lucy shoved the wet knot of tights back in my mouth, pulled them back every bit as tightly as she had done before (maybe even tighter) and tied the tights behind my head. Once again, I was silenced. Amy got off the bed and bent close to my head. She stroked the top of my head and said, “See you later, Rusty.”
“I know that I said if you free yourself, you have to stay in your room,” said my sister. “But I’m feeling generous. If you do escape, I think you deserve to come downstairs and have a snack with us. Oh, and leave your tights on. Amy seems to like how you look in them.”
The lights were turned off again, and the door closed. I could hear the two girls giggling as they went away, but the sound of them faded away and I was once again abandoned in total darkness and silence.
I took the opportunity to roll over onto my side. It felt like such a luxury to be able to change positions. I had nearly died of embarrassment when Amy saw me all tied up wearing tights. Now, I was so glad she did. Because of her, I had a little bit more freedom, and my armpits and back weren’t sore from the rope that used to keep me face down. Also, I loved the way she had massaged my shoulders and legs. She is so pretty, I wish I could have seen her, but neither girl had removed my blindfold. The thing I was most grateful for was that now someone other than my sister knew I was tied up in my room. If my scatterbrained sister drank some wine and fell asleep, Amy would untie me.
I no longer feared being tied up until noon tomorrow. I did still face many more hours of being bound, gagged, and blindfolded, even if I had a little more freedom than before. Eleven o’clock was still four and a half hours away. No, it was to be a full five hours again now that I had agreed to the extra half-hour, I reminded myself.
I again tested my wrist rope, but it was every bit as tight as before. Would I regret that I turned down Amy’s offer to loosen my bonds? Probably. But the memory of Amy sitting on my bed and massaging me made it all worthwhile. Now that I was slightly more comfortable, I was able to enjoy my bondage even more. I felt warm and cozy in my tights. My bonds were as tight and inescapable as before, but I really had no desire right now to be free. I was back in my “bondage high”, or maybe I was high on Amy’s massages. I was so content I began to doze off, which was good. It would make the time seem to pass quicker.
To be continued ...