A true account of what got me interested in Tie Up Games
My parents were divorced when I was seven. They were both alcoholics, mom probably worse than dad but I went to live with my mom. Neither were abusive or violent or anything like that, probably just irresponsible and maybe too young when they had me, their only child. I was the proverbial unwanted accident. Even by the time I was six I would hide from them both when they were arguing and would busy myself with books. After dad left, mom seemed to have an endless stream of visitors, often women who she obviously had flings with. She made money to keep the house afloat and survive, and I suppose I was just there and provided I was out of the way and not stopping her doing what she did, she didn’t care.
For my part, I enjoyed my own company and didn’t mind spending time in my room away from her “visitors”. Of course, because of my natural tendencies to hide in my room I suppose I became socially inept. I had few friends at school partly because I didn’t look for them, was considered too smart and therefore to be avoided … “the teacher’s pet”, and all that. It is also true that I was super tiny and looked even younger than I was. The only friends I had were as socially inept as me so I moved in the crowd labelled “to be avoided”. Truthfully, I didn’t mind and amused myself by thinking up practical jokes to play on people and got rather good at it making sure I was never found out. I suppose I was lucky that university forced me to interact with people more and grew out I being of the social moron I was as a teenager.
I would have been about fourteen when my mom wanted to unload me for the summer holidays so she sent me to my father in Herefordshire to stay on a farm. Dad was a mechanic at the farm and somehow, he arranged for me to stay at the farm house while he worked. It was the best holiday I ever spent. The farmer’s wife was a wonderful woman who was always smiling and cooking and made me feel more welcome than I had ever felt in my life. Part of it I suppose was that they actually liked my father and thus they welcomed me with open arms.
But even better was they had a daughter Helen, who was a year younger than me and probably as socially inept as I was. Helen immediately latched on to me as an older sister and truthfully for that summer at least, she was the best friend I ever had. We shared her large bedroom which held two beds and from the very first I found we had the same sense of humour.
On the second day Helen took me on a tour of a nearby wood but the tour was interrupted by heavy rain. We didn’t have coats so Helen led us quickly through the trees and we came out at an old barn just as the rain began pelting down. We weren’t actually too far from the house but neither of us fancied risking the downpour so we started exploring the barn. There was a ladder to the second level where besides a few hay bales there was some thin rope. Helen went over the rope and suggested a game of “tie up”. I asked her what she meant and she said that first of all I should tie her up with the rope and see how long it took to get free and then she would tie me up to see if I could get free.
It seemed like fun and there wasn’t much else to do so laughing and giggling we started to play. I had seen television programs where people occasionally got tied up so I had her place her hands behind her back and wrapped the rope around. Then I did the same with her ankles and left it at that. It turned out she was very good at getting free, first managing to slide her bottom through her wrists bringing her hands back in front of her, then she used her teeth to undo the knot at her wrists. I suppose it only took her a few minutes to get free and I was quite impressed.
But when it was my turn, I felt something rather strange and … well nice … as she tied my wrists behind my back and my ankles together. She actually didn’t tie me up very tight and I had watched how she had gotten free so after a bit of a struggle, which was fun in the hay and using the same technique, I too managed to get free.
It was then her turn again and just as I began to tie her legs, we suddenly heard a voice,
“Helen are you up there?” to which Helen replied “Yes Mummy I am here with Foxies.”
To tell the truth I was slightly worried that Mrs. Ashton might be upset that I was tying up her daughter but Helen certainly wasn’t worried and in fact insisted that I kept on tying her up. Suddenly her mother’s head popped up through the hole in the floor where the ladder was and she laughed and said to me,
“Foxies, if you want to stop her getting free you will have to do better than that!”
She came over to us and explained that Helen was a pro at escaping from knots and that after lunch she would show me how to give Helen more of a challenge but in the meantime, she had brought a couple of plastics Macs out to the barn guessing that we might have taken shelter there from the rain.
So, suitably plastic Mac’d, we trudged back to the farmhouse and over lunch Helen’s mom explained that Helen had been playing “tie up” since she was seven years old when her mom had tied her to a chair for fun for a tickling session. Apparently, she enjoyed it and started begging her mom to tie her up whenever she was bored. Being tied up and trying (and succeeding) to escape was thus one of her hobbies – possibly the strangest hobby I had heard of. I have often wondered about this rather strange story in later years though it didn’t strike me as odd at the time. Perhaps Mrs. Ashton played “tie up” with her husband but I suppose I will never know. In a way I was jealous that Helen’s mom spent time playing with her because my mom certainly never played with me.
Anyway, after lunch Mrs Ashton went with us to Helen’s bedroom where Helen brought out lots of string, rope and material belts and such and I proceeded to get instruction from her Mother in the strange art of tying people up. She showed me how important it is to tie such that circulation isn’t restricted on the limbs, how loose wraps could be made secure with cinches between the wraps and how knots had to be positioned away from fingers and the like. Mrs Ashton also took pains to explain that it was very important not to put the victim in an uncomfortable position since it could become a real torture after a while. It was better for arms and legs to be either straight or at least at natural angles if you wanted to keep the victim secured for a long while without them being in pain. It was all quite technical and I was very intrigued.
Helen displayed her talents at escaping from some quite complex bondage using her small size, extreme flexibility (she took ballet classes too which never interested me) and nimble but strong fingers to undo knots. She could also use her mouth and teeth to undo knots and her Mother later demonstrated how to stop this using simple and safe but effective gags. Mrs Ashton offered to tie me up too and intrigued I gladly accepted. She was very careful and considerate in making sure I was safe and comfortable and I instantly found out that escape was impossible. She stayed supervising our play and I began to love the sensation of being helpless while people I trusted looked after me and kept me safe. I don’t think I had ever had so much attention paid to me in all my life.
Over the next couple of days, Helen’s mom supervised our play together till she was confident that Helen and I wouldn’t harm each other, having initially asked us not to play the game on our own in case there was a problem. But after about a week she relented and from then on, whenever it was raining outside, we would go to Helen’s bedroom and have fun tying each other up. There is no doubt in my mind that both of us much preferred to be in bondage rather than the one tying the other up however even that part was fun.
I think I shall stop here. There is more to this story but I would like to see if anyone is even interested in any of this and what followed.
First Experiences – Tied on the Farm [fF/ff]
Nice way to be introduced to TUGs.
Now I’m curious to find out what happened next.
Great story! And welcome to the board!
Now I’m curious to find out what happened next.
Great story! And welcome to the board!
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Deleted User 1729
This is really awesome. Quite unique and very well-written. Would love to hear more!
Thanks for sharing!
Thanks for sharing!
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 591
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Thank you for sharing your story with us! Everything from your personal history up to the point of getting tied up is very well written. I hope we get to read more from you! 
I've mentioned many times how much I enjoy Origin Stories. I'm always curious how each of us came to be addicted to this game. This is a well-written tale. Thank you for sharing! Please tell more.
Very great story! I hope you decide to share more!
Part 2 of First Experiences – Tied on the Farm [fF/ff]
So here is the continuation of my first experiences of tie up games where as a fourteen-year old, I stayed on a farm for my summer holidays.
One night, after I had been at the farm for about a week, Helen asked her mom to tie us both to our beds after we had gotten into our pyjamas. I suppose I was a bit surprised but I think on the whole I thought it was a rather cool idea and so I joined in the request. As might be expected Mrs Ashton refused but it was then that I began to see Helen’s persistence. I also began to see that she was rather expert at twisting her Mother around her finger and there is no doubt Mrs Ashton idolized her daughter.
It was thus perhaps a couple of nights later, getting over her initial reluctance and making us promise to be very good, Mrs Ashton came to our room as we were getting into bed armed with belts, stocking and the like and tied us both to our beds. She began with me after she asked me several times if this was what I really wanted and that Helen wasn’t pushing me against my will. I reassured her I wanted to try it and after she had me go to the bathroom, she had me lie on the bed and comfortably secured me.
It was a wonderful feeling to have someone in a Motherly-like fashion gently take control and carefully fasten me to the bed. I had never had so much attention paid to me in my life and it made me feel all warm and loved inside. In case you are wondering, there was no abuse, no untoward touching or anything like that. In a way she was like a really caring nurse looking after me and I remember flushing in pleasure as she fastened me down.
After she checked that my circulation was unimpeded, that I could still move my limbs and roll over and yet that I couldn’t unfasten myself, she smiled at me and then took exactly the same care with her daughter. There is no doubt that Helen enjoyed it just as much as me and I could see her wriggling in happiness as her mother finally pulled the sheets and blankets over her and kissed her good night. Then Mrs. Ashton came back over to me once more, asked if I wanted to be released and when I said no – she smiled again, pulled my blankets up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I watched her turn off the main light and left a little night light on for safety. It was a wonderful and memorable experience and as she closed the door, she told us to be quiet and not speak until morning unless we needed to be released.
I was so happy I wanted to cry. I had never had someone care about me so much. I soon fell asleep and almost before I knew it, Mrs. Ashton was smiling at me shaking me awake at about six o’clock in the morning when she got up and before I knew it, I was untied and Helen and I got up and planned our next day.
From then on, except for perhaps a couple of times, Mrs. Ashton continued to tie us to beds every evening and thus, going to bed after a day playing on the farm, was something I really looked forward to.
Of course, these ties weren’t very restrictive. She would fasten a loose belt from old frocks around our waists and then with a rope passed under the bed she would tie the ends of the rope to each side of the belt. Then she would pass loops of material around our wrists with a reef knot on the inside of the wrist so that it couldn’t be slipped over our hands but wouldn’t in anyway constrict our skin. The other ends of the material she would tie to the sides of the bed frame with just enough slack that we couldn’t quite reach the buckles of our belts. Next, she tied each ankle again with plenty of slack so that we could get our feet about 12 inches apart securing the centre part to the bottom of the bed frame. The final tie was another loop of material that went snugly around our chests, under our arms and then to the top of the bed frame. This prevented us from sitting up, moving up or down the bed but we could still roll over on our sides.
It took her about fifteen minutes to do this each night but it was such a pleasure to be so much the centre of attention by this kindly woman who laughed and smiled at us telling us both that if we needed anything at all we were to call out and she was just on the other side of the wall. I had never experienced anything like the care this woman gave us before. The tie was remarkably comfortable and neither of us had any problem sleeping and each night I would wriggle in happiness while I was made safe and secure.
Father never found out about any of this of course. He stayed in the village down the lane and though he would say good bye to me when he left to go home each evening, he didn’t really spend any time with me, and truthfully, I didn’t miss him or my mother. I only remember how sad I was to leave the farm at the end of summer and go back to living with the mother that so ignored me.
Helen and I wrote to each other several times but it only lasted about six months as it does when you are young and experiences fade from your mind. I had hoped to go back there the following summer but neither Mother nor Father offered and eventually I got a letter from Australia from Helen explaining that her parents had sold the farm and they had all emigrated to Australia. Naturally I was rather sad and it was quite a while before I found anyone else to play tie up games again.
Having just re-read the above, I suppose the curious would like to know the rest of the story. However, what happened back then was almost fifty years ago and a lot of water has flowed under that bridge. But the thumbnail of my life is that for many years after that summer holiday I was alone and got very into self-tie up games. Then, one horrible day, because of a stupid accident, I came very close to killing myself in a self-bondage experience that went badly wrong. I always knew the dangers and was so careful planning every last detail, or so I thought, that I believed I would always be safe. Sadly, the totally unexpected happened and I was left for ten hours, passing in and out of consciousness, totally expecting to die when blind luck intervened and I was able to get free.
That experience shook me badly and for a several months, I shut my bondage toys away and there they remained unused in my house. It wasn’t too long after that though I met my partner. When we decided to live together, we cleaned out my house to sell and she came across my bondage toys. To say they were a shock to her is an understatement and they led to some rather awkward and for me, embarrassing conversations.
When she learned of my escapade that had almost killed me, she became very anxious about my safety. She interrogated me quite extensively about my history and love of bondage games and how much they meant to me. Then after carefully pondering the matter for several days as she so often does, she offered me a bargain: if I promised never to engage in self-bondage again, she promised in return that she would learn how to satisfy my bondage cravings. We have both kept our promises to each other and even better she came to enjoy the dominant side of bondage games herself.
But that really is another story.
So here is the continuation of my first experiences of tie up games where as a fourteen-year old, I stayed on a farm for my summer holidays.
One night, after I had been at the farm for about a week, Helen asked her mom to tie us both to our beds after we had gotten into our pyjamas. I suppose I was a bit surprised but I think on the whole I thought it was a rather cool idea and so I joined in the request. As might be expected Mrs Ashton refused but it was then that I began to see Helen’s persistence. I also began to see that she was rather expert at twisting her Mother around her finger and there is no doubt Mrs Ashton idolized her daughter.
It was thus perhaps a couple of nights later, getting over her initial reluctance and making us promise to be very good, Mrs Ashton came to our room as we were getting into bed armed with belts, stocking and the like and tied us both to our beds. She began with me after she asked me several times if this was what I really wanted and that Helen wasn’t pushing me against my will. I reassured her I wanted to try it and after she had me go to the bathroom, she had me lie on the bed and comfortably secured me.
It was a wonderful feeling to have someone in a Motherly-like fashion gently take control and carefully fasten me to the bed. I had never had so much attention paid to me in my life and it made me feel all warm and loved inside. In case you are wondering, there was no abuse, no untoward touching or anything like that. In a way she was like a really caring nurse looking after me and I remember flushing in pleasure as she fastened me down.
After she checked that my circulation was unimpeded, that I could still move my limbs and roll over and yet that I couldn’t unfasten myself, she smiled at me and then took exactly the same care with her daughter. There is no doubt that Helen enjoyed it just as much as me and I could see her wriggling in happiness as her mother finally pulled the sheets and blankets over her and kissed her good night. Then Mrs. Ashton came back over to me once more, asked if I wanted to be released and when I said no – she smiled again, pulled my blankets up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I watched her turn off the main light and left a little night light on for safety. It was a wonderful and memorable experience and as she closed the door, she told us to be quiet and not speak until morning unless we needed to be released.
I was so happy I wanted to cry. I had never had someone care about me so much. I soon fell asleep and almost before I knew it, Mrs. Ashton was smiling at me shaking me awake at about six o’clock in the morning when she got up and before I knew it, I was untied and Helen and I got up and planned our next day.
From then on, except for perhaps a couple of times, Mrs. Ashton continued to tie us to beds every evening and thus, going to bed after a day playing on the farm, was something I really looked forward to.
Of course, these ties weren’t very restrictive. She would fasten a loose belt from old frocks around our waists and then with a rope passed under the bed she would tie the ends of the rope to each side of the belt. Then she would pass loops of material around our wrists with a reef knot on the inside of the wrist so that it couldn’t be slipped over our hands but wouldn’t in anyway constrict our skin. The other ends of the material she would tie to the sides of the bed frame with just enough slack that we couldn’t quite reach the buckles of our belts. Next, she tied each ankle again with plenty of slack so that we could get our feet about 12 inches apart securing the centre part to the bottom of the bed frame. The final tie was another loop of material that went snugly around our chests, under our arms and then to the top of the bed frame. This prevented us from sitting up, moving up or down the bed but we could still roll over on our sides.
It took her about fifteen minutes to do this each night but it was such a pleasure to be so much the centre of attention by this kindly woman who laughed and smiled at us telling us both that if we needed anything at all we were to call out and she was just on the other side of the wall. I had never experienced anything like the care this woman gave us before. The tie was remarkably comfortable and neither of us had any problem sleeping and each night I would wriggle in happiness while I was made safe and secure.
Father never found out about any of this of course. He stayed in the village down the lane and though he would say good bye to me when he left to go home each evening, he didn’t really spend any time with me, and truthfully, I didn’t miss him or my mother. I only remember how sad I was to leave the farm at the end of summer and go back to living with the mother that so ignored me.
Helen and I wrote to each other several times but it only lasted about six months as it does when you are young and experiences fade from your mind. I had hoped to go back there the following summer but neither Mother nor Father offered and eventually I got a letter from Australia from Helen explaining that her parents had sold the farm and they had all emigrated to Australia. Naturally I was rather sad and it was quite a while before I found anyone else to play tie up games again.
Having just re-read the above, I suppose the curious would like to know the rest of the story. However, what happened back then was almost fifty years ago and a lot of water has flowed under that bridge. But the thumbnail of my life is that for many years after that summer holiday I was alone and got very into self-tie up games. Then, one horrible day, because of a stupid accident, I came very close to killing myself in a self-bondage experience that went badly wrong. I always knew the dangers and was so careful planning every last detail, or so I thought, that I believed I would always be safe. Sadly, the totally unexpected happened and I was left for ten hours, passing in and out of consciousness, totally expecting to die when blind luck intervened and I was able to get free.
That experience shook me badly and for a several months, I shut my bondage toys away and there they remained unused in my house. It wasn’t too long after that though I met my partner. When we decided to live together, we cleaned out my house to sell and she came across my bondage toys. To say they were a shock to her is an understatement and they led to some rather awkward and for me, embarrassing conversations.
When she learned of my escapade that had almost killed me, she became very anxious about my safety. She interrogated me quite extensively about my history and love of bondage games and how much they meant to me. Then after carefully pondering the matter for several days as she so often does, she offered me a bargain: if I promised never to engage in self-bondage again, she promised in return that she would learn how to satisfy my bondage cravings. We have both kept our promises to each other and even better she came to enjoy the dominant side of bondage games herself.
But that really is another story.
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radarlove67
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 256
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Manchester, UK
Lovely tale, thankyou for sharing.
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Barefoot99
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 130
- Joined: 6 years ago
nice story
Barefoot and cuffed. That's the only way to go.
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 591
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Thank you again for sharing your story with us. You write so well about such personal events. Thank you sharing. I think you may have at least a few more stories to share. I’d love to hear more about your self bondage mishap, if only to share the cautionary tale with the community. And I’m pretty sure we all want to hear about the adventures with your partner!
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Deleted User 76
Wow, a really moving story, it's good that it ended well, you deserved to be happy in the end 
Hi Foxies just want to let you know we loved hearing about your time on the farm. And everyone is right. You write so beautifully. Just like someone else we know. Me and little miss naughty cant wait to see how many wonderful comments you receive
love us xxxx
love us xxxx
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Gaggedgeekgirl
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 247
- Joined: 6 years ago
An exceptionally well written story. And yes I would love to hear more stories of you and your partner. I hope you are both well and still together enjoying games,after all the years.