Stories of Tie Up Games

Xtc wrote: ↑4 years ago ... a favourite Dave Allan joke:

Oh man, I used to love Dave Allen.

My girl Grace is rather annoyed that my posts don't get much love here. Consequently she suggested we plan an evening to draw a bit of attention and show that old people (me 58, her 61) can still enjoy a kinky evening. We began with her entirely nude, other than a pair of "stripper's panties&qu...

For those of you into long-term bondage (straitjackets, sleepsacks, etc.) what do you do with all of your copious free time. I'd imagine it'd be difficult to read a book or work the remote? Or is it all about the helpless isolation for you?

My girl keeps wanting to play backgammon. I told her sure, but she needed to wear her straitjacket.

She didn't think she could trust me not to cheat. I told her that's what'd make it interesting.

Most of my stories here are lifestyle stories. I can write more if there's interest.

Our "evening" started with lunch at a local place which has a nice selection of beers and other beverages; I had a nice stout and she a flight of margaritas. We split a dozen raw oysters before getting their special "entree for two," half of which we took home. Around 6pm I strap...

I can get Grace out of the straitjacket in less than a minute, and into it in less than 90 seconds. On this particular evening she didn't need to utilized the facilities. She had her own cup with a lid and a straw, and she actually wandered around the party by herself, asking people for assistance a...

Any time I hear the term "escape room" all I can think of is everyone being physically secured in some fashion, either with handcuffs (behind the back of course) or (even better) in straitjackets. Everyone then has to work together to free each other. However, it's been agreed upon ahead o...

A great deal of long-term captive bondage seems to involve the worst aspects of solitary confinement combined with the added agony of being physically restrained. I've always assumed that a good captive would be rewarded with a Netflix connected tablet, albeit with the ability to communicate with th...

I used to do a presentation on "Dollar Store BDSM" and would bring in my $20 "Bag of Doom."

One of my favorite scenes of all-time involved nothing more than dollar-store duct tape and a package of rubber bands.

Who wouldn't?

I've been able to get ChatGPT to generate some interesting stories, although it takes some real work to get it to focus on what I want and not have it go on and on about nonsense.

I don't think it will be terribly good at creating scenarios, as it simply extrapolates on what you give it.

I've written elsewhere about how the scent of duct tape, specifically a particular type of duct tape, is something of an aphrodisiac. Likely because at age eleven (in Florida) I had a "girlfriend" with whom I engaged in duct tape-related bondage games, maybe three times. The particular aro...

I've interacted with two gals who indicated they'd been tied-up against their will. While I couldn't verify either story, I have no reason to doubt the veracity of either. The first indicated that she was the victim of a home invasion in her teens (around 1995). She, her (younger) brother, and mothe...

I have a real gagtalk fetish so, with varying degrees of thoroughness, I've gagged any number of gals and made vids of them attempting to talk. By far the most effective was stuffing a (clean) sock into the gal's mouth, covering that with seven layers of duct tape, then going around and around with ...

I honestly can't recall a time when I wasn't fascinated by images of gals in bondage. At age six I had a few Wonder Woman comics which had an astonishing amount of bondage in them, and they were much perused. And it was rather commonplace in media at the time. And of course, all of those detective m...

Like many people, I have a pic of my significant other as a backdrop on my phone. But like not so many people, my girl is strapped into a straitjacket. I took a new pic recently; she's barelegged, barefooted, sitting on the couch, snug in her straitjacket, giving me the ecstatically happy grin she o...

When we first started going out, she was very circumspect about any pics, almost comically so. These days she almost wants someone she knows to see them, as all of her friends and co-workers would simply roll their eyes (her job is very secure).

Like many people, I have a pic of my significant other as a backdrop on my phone. But like not so many people, my girl is strapped into a straitjacket. I took a new pic recently; she's barelegged, barefooted, sitting on the couch, snug in her straitjacket, giving me the ecstatically happy grin she o...

Epilogue: Turnabout's Fair Play A muffled yelp echoed through the room, the source of the sound being Isolde, tied up securely in the inescapable straitjacket. Sweat ran down her face in rivulets, dripping onto the jacket that constricted her movements. The white fabric was stained with patches of d...

Part Seven: The End of the Ordeal The frigid air outdoors caressed Lorelei's flushed face, offering brief respite from the straitjacket’s sweltering grasp. The intense cold, a stark contrast to her overheated body, was a bittersweet relief. However, the winter chill quickly turned vicious as it bit ...

slackywacky wrote: ↑10 months ago Darn, I missed chapter 4...

It's up there.

Part Six: The Threshold Crossed The doorknob lock was the final hurdle between Lorelei and her escape. The lock was minute, the ideal nemesis for her tired, sweaty feet. She held her legs aloft, her toes skidding off the tiny lock again and again. Her legs ached with the strain of holding them up in...

Part Five: Trials at the Threshold There Lorelei stood, a woman on a mission, her spirit undaunted in front of the formidable triple-locked door. She knew the first challenge to be the slide chain lock. It was within reach, just slightly above her shoulder. And so, she leaned into it, using her nose...

Part Four: Desperate Measures Isolde ran her fingers through Lorelei's hair, attempting to untangle the wet, matted strands that stuck to her face. The effort was futile; her hair was plastered down by a combination of sweat and her own exertion. "Damn it, Izzy," Lorelei growled, turning a...