Sunday (m/F F/m) The Play Part 2
Posted: Sat Jun 10, 2023 7:11 am
I’m spending a bit longer writing this time and proof reading first. This is a sequel to
http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8 ... aaa199d862
It had been late, or early morning, that mum had left the after-show party with me. It was only a short walk home so mum had a few drinks but was not drunk. I’d only seen her drunk once, at granny’s house shortly after dad ran away. Well into bed late , or early, means getting up late and it was after 10 o’clock that I crawled into mum’s room and gave her a big hug and said how good she was in the play, for the hundredth time or so. She thanked me, again, and gave me a kiss before getting up and going downstairs to make waffles and coffee.
We sat in the lounge eating breakfast and again I asked her about being tied up in the play: was it uncomfortable, was she stiff, did she feel frightened etc. She actually said she kind of enjoyed it. “You see I was on stage more than anyone else. So normally I’d have to learn pages and pages of lines for that.” I knew from experience mum took learning her lines seriously and painfully. I’d end up reading the other parts of the script for her and she’d say my timing or delivery was wrong, so she’d record herself reading the other parts and fill in her bits from memory, so actually I often knew lots of lines in the pantomime before seeing it. “Well you see this time,” she said, “in the whole of the second act all I said was “Mmmppphhh” and in most of the third act too. It was only the first act and less than ten lines in the last scene I had to learn any words.”
“But what about being tied up in the dressing room?”
“That was quite relaxing too. Normally I’m in the wings trying to remember my cues or passing out props. Well this time I sat in a chair as everyone else worked round me , I was carried onto stage when it was my scene and I was waited on with drinks and chocolate. In fact I’m going to ask if there are any more productions with women tied up whom I can play.” She laughed. “In fact being tied up at home whilst you cook and clean and feed me sounds good too.”
“You want my cooking?” I burst out laughing.
“Hey you are good. I’ve taught you spaghetti bolognaise, pasta carbonara, chilli, macaroni cheese, and how much effort is it to put chips in the oven, peas on the hob and burgers or sausages under the grill. I’ve made sure when you go to university you will not live off takeaways and microwave lasagna. Talking of which, I must teach you how to make lasagna one day soon.”
We joked a bit more then mum said “Do you want to tie me up and cook lunch for me? I’m tired after four performances and two rehearsals this week, so could do with a lazy Sunday morning.” It was almost 12! Without waiting for an answer, Mum went upstairs and returned a few minutes later with a bag of lengths of rope. It never occurred to me why she would have a bag of rope. Mum kept lots of things: boxes of buttons and beads, a bag of balls of wool, a bag of single socks kept in the hopes their partner would turn up one day, scrap paper. Basically lots of things which might come in useful one day. I just supposed her bag of rope was one of these.
Anyway, she sat cross legged on the floor and held her hands behind her back whilst I wrapped the rope round them five or six times and tied with a reef knot. I then sat back and waited to see what she’d do. What she did was stay sitting cross
legged and wiggle her arms about a bit. Within less than five minutes she reached her hands in front of herself and held the untied length of rope in her left hand.
“Let’s see if you’re better at escaping than tying me up shall we?” She said, and before I could do anything she knelt behind me and tied my hands behind my back. Now I didn’t see that instead of just wrapping like I had done to her wrists, she wrapped mine about five times then cinched twice between my wrists, making the loops grip securely, with out being two tight around and cutting circulation, then she tied the knot. I began struggling like she had, wiggling my arms, rubbing my wrists up and down trying to find the knot or wriggle my hands out, but everything stayed tightly tied.
It was more than fifteen minutes and I had made no progress. Then I realised if I couldn’t get my hands free behind my back I’d have to get them free in front of me. I rocked back onto my shoulders and feet and strained to get my hands under my bottom. Once my wrists were tied behind my knees , I rocked onto my back and kicked my legs about until I got my right foot, then left foot through the loop made by my arms. And now my hands were in front of me.
That was when I noticed instead of being simply wrapped, the knot was buried between my wrists and the rope was tied around itself. It was a struggle over the course of another ten minutes to get the knot with my tongue and teeth, to loosen it, then eventually I managed to wriggle my hands free. It was more than half an hour altogether it took me to untie my hands, with mum laughing at me and making put down comments all the time. When I was finished she said “I managed to get my hands free behind my back, and without using my teeth. And what would you have done if you were gagged?” She mimed pulling a scarf between her teeth. “You’re going to need some practice if you’re going to tie me up and cook lunch.”
I was a bit upset. OK she’s my mum and should know things I don’t etc. but she took less than five minutes to escape with ease. I struggled for over half an hour and had to use my teeth. “Shall I show you a trick?” She asked me. I nodded.
Mum took a piece of rope and stuck her feet out in front of her. She then demonstrated how she’d wrap five times, cinch twice and burry the knot between her ankles. She explained that this made the ropes tighter in the outside not the inside and it was how you tied two sticks or poles together. (Or hands and feet!) I thought. Next she made me practice tying her legs below, then above her knees. Once she was satisfied I’d got it, she shuffled round and held her hands behind her. “OK. Same principle. Tie my hands behind my back.”
I wrapped the rope five times round her wrists, pulling* them together, then cinched twice, and a third time just to make sure she couldn’t escape. Then I tied a reef knot.
“Very good .” She said. “You just have to blindfold and gag me now.”
“What with?”
“Go to my bedroom. Look at the shelves left hand side of the wardrobe. Get the lime green and the black scarves. And bring the bag of odd socks too .”
For once I did as I was told. I came back a few minutes later with the bits and she gave me my next instructions. It was funny. Almost as she said. Mum was the one tied up, but she was giving instructions and I was doing all the work.
“OK. Once you have gagged me, if it is an emergency, like I can’t breathe, or sudden pain, or I need the toilet I’ll either snap my fingers like this.” Click click click. She made the clicking noise. “or I’ll do SOS in morse code: mmm mmm mmm Mmmpppghhh MMMPppnnggg Mmmpppnnmmgg. Mmm mmm mmm.” I nodded my understanding.
“OK . Fold the black scarf into a 5cm wide band then tie it over my eyes, tie it right down behind my neck so it slopes down and backwards and is pulled over the bridge of my nose so it won’t slip off.” I did as instructed again. “Now get one of the white socks, Ankle socks, then take the lime green scarf. Roll the scarf into a narrow band and then put the sock in my mouth, pull the scarf between my teeth to hold in in place and knot it behind my head. Make sure the ends pass over the blindfold on the sides of my head. Then go get lunch ready.” I did not pause to think why I was being given such precise instructions nor how mum would know the minute details of tying someone up. I just did what I was told.
So there was Mum all tied up. Wearing red tartan trousers, white vest top, bare feet, ankles and knees tied, hands tied behind her back, gagged with a white sock and green scarf cleve gag and blindfolded with a black scarf. Just as I sat there watching her wriggle and test her bonds and think should I go get lunch or sit and tease her, there was a knock at the door. We both sat rigid, not daring to move. The lounge could not be seen from the front of the house. Our secret was safe. We just had to keep quiet so no one knew we were here. Then I heard a key in the lock. A voice I almost recognised called Mum’s name. Then to my surprise mum started calling into her gag: “Mmnnpphh. Mmnnggg. Mmmnnnnmm.” She was trying to get the visitor to come into the lounge.
The lounge door opened and there stood Rebecca.
http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8 ... aaa199d862
It had been late, or early morning, that mum had left the after-show party with me. It was only a short walk home so mum had a few drinks but was not drunk. I’d only seen her drunk once, at granny’s house shortly after dad ran away. Well into bed late , or early, means getting up late and it was after 10 o’clock that I crawled into mum’s room and gave her a big hug and said how good she was in the play, for the hundredth time or so. She thanked me, again, and gave me a kiss before getting up and going downstairs to make waffles and coffee.
We sat in the lounge eating breakfast and again I asked her about being tied up in the play: was it uncomfortable, was she stiff, did she feel frightened etc. She actually said she kind of enjoyed it. “You see I was on stage more than anyone else. So normally I’d have to learn pages and pages of lines for that.” I knew from experience mum took learning her lines seriously and painfully. I’d end up reading the other parts of the script for her and she’d say my timing or delivery was wrong, so she’d record herself reading the other parts and fill in her bits from memory, so actually I often knew lots of lines in the pantomime before seeing it. “Well you see this time,” she said, “in the whole of the second act all I said was “Mmmppphhh” and in most of the third act too. It was only the first act and less than ten lines in the last scene I had to learn any words.”
“But what about being tied up in the dressing room?”
“That was quite relaxing too. Normally I’m in the wings trying to remember my cues or passing out props. Well this time I sat in a chair as everyone else worked round me , I was carried onto stage when it was my scene and I was waited on with drinks and chocolate. In fact I’m going to ask if there are any more productions with women tied up whom I can play.” She laughed. “In fact being tied up at home whilst you cook and clean and feed me sounds good too.”
“You want my cooking?” I burst out laughing.
“Hey you are good. I’ve taught you spaghetti bolognaise, pasta carbonara, chilli, macaroni cheese, and how much effort is it to put chips in the oven, peas on the hob and burgers or sausages under the grill. I’ve made sure when you go to university you will not live off takeaways and microwave lasagna. Talking of which, I must teach you how to make lasagna one day soon.”
We joked a bit more then mum said “Do you want to tie me up and cook lunch for me? I’m tired after four performances and two rehearsals this week, so could do with a lazy Sunday morning.” It was almost 12! Without waiting for an answer, Mum went upstairs and returned a few minutes later with a bag of lengths of rope. It never occurred to me why she would have a bag of rope. Mum kept lots of things: boxes of buttons and beads, a bag of balls of wool, a bag of single socks kept in the hopes their partner would turn up one day, scrap paper. Basically lots of things which might come in useful one day. I just supposed her bag of rope was one of these.
Anyway, she sat cross legged on the floor and held her hands behind her back whilst I wrapped the rope round them five or six times and tied with a reef knot. I then sat back and waited to see what she’d do. What she did was stay sitting cross
legged and wiggle her arms about a bit. Within less than five minutes she reached her hands in front of herself and held the untied length of rope in her left hand.
“Let’s see if you’re better at escaping than tying me up shall we?” She said, and before I could do anything she knelt behind me and tied my hands behind my back. Now I didn’t see that instead of just wrapping like I had done to her wrists, she wrapped mine about five times then cinched twice between my wrists, making the loops grip securely, with out being two tight around and cutting circulation, then she tied the knot. I began struggling like she had, wiggling my arms, rubbing my wrists up and down trying to find the knot or wriggle my hands out, but everything stayed tightly tied.
It was more than fifteen minutes and I had made no progress. Then I realised if I couldn’t get my hands free behind my back I’d have to get them free in front of me. I rocked back onto my shoulders and feet and strained to get my hands under my bottom. Once my wrists were tied behind my knees , I rocked onto my back and kicked my legs about until I got my right foot, then left foot through the loop made by my arms. And now my hands were in front of me.
That was when I noticed instead of being simply wrapped, the knot was buried between my wrists and the rope was tied around itself. It was a struggle over the course of another ten minutes to get the knot with my tongue and teeth, to loosen it, then eventually I managed to wriggle my hands free. It was more than half an hour altogether it took me to untie my hands, with mum laughing at me and making put down comments all the time. When I was finished she said “I managed to get my hands free behind my back, and without using my teeth. And what would you have done if you were gagged?” She mimed pulling a scarf between her teeth. “You’re going to need some practice if you’re going to tie me up and cook lunch.”
I was a bit upset. OK she’s my mum and should know things I don’t etc. but she took less than five minutes to escape with ease. I struggled for over half an hour and had to use my teeth. “Shall I show you a trick?” She asked me. I nodded.
Mum took a piece of rope and stuck her feet out in front of her. She then demonstrated how she’d wrap five times, cinch twice and burry the knot between her ankles. She explained that this made the ropes tighter in the outside not the inside and it was how you tied two sticks or poles together. (Or hands and feet!) I thought. Next she made me practice tying her legs below, then above her knees. Once she was satisfied I’d got it, she shuffled round and held her hands behind her. “OK. Same principle. Tie my hands behind my back.”
I wrapped the rope five times round her wrists, pulling* them together, then cinched twice, and a third time just to make sure she couldn’t escape. Then I tied a reef knot.
“Very good .” She said. “You just have to blindfold and gag me now.”
“What with?”
“Go to my bedroom. Look at the shelves left hand side of the wardrobe. Get the lime green and the black scarves. And bring the bag of odd socks too .”
For once I did as I was told. I came back a few minutes later with the bits and she gave me my next instructions. It was funny. Almost as she said. Mum was the one tied up, but she was giving instructions and I was doing all the work.
“OK. Once you have gagged me, if it is an emergency, like I can’t breathe, or sudden pain, or I need the toilet I’ll either snap my fingers like this.” Click click click. She made the clicking noise. “or I’ll do SOS in morse code: mmm mmm mmm Mmmpppghhh MMMPppnnggg Mmmpppnnmmgg. Mmm mmm mmm.” I nodded my understanding.
“OK . Fold the black scarf into a 5cm wide band then tie it over my eyes, tie it right down behind my neck so it slopes down and backwards and is pulled over the bridge of my nose so it won’t slip off.” I did as instructed again. “Now get one of the white socks, Ankle socks, then take the lime green scarf. Roll the scarf into a narrow band and then put the sock in my mouth, pull the scarf between my teeth to hold in in place and knot it behind my head. Make sure the ends pass over the blindfold on the sides of my head. Then go get lunch ready.” I did not pause to think why I was being given such precise instructions nor how mum would know the minute details of tying someone up. I just did what I was told.
So there was Mum all tied up. Wearing red tartan trousers, white vest top, bare feet, ankles and knees tied, hands tied behind her back, gagged with a white sock and green scarf cleve gag and blindfolded with a black scarf. Just as I sat there watching her wriggle and test her bonds and think should I go get lunch or sit and tease her, there was a knock at the door. We both sat rigid, not daring to move. The lounge could not be seen from the front of the house. Our secret was safe. We just had to keep quiet so no one knew we were here. Then I heard a key in the lock. A voice I almost recognised called Mum’s name. Then to my surprise mum started calling into her gag: “Mmnnpphh. Mmnnggg. Mmmnnnnmm.” She was trying to get the visitor to come into the lounge.
The lounge door opened and there stood Rebecca.