Night At The Museum (M/F)

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Snidely
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Night At The Museum (M/F)

Post by Snidely »

This is an true account related to me not long ago by my then girlfriend Nikki. It took place a few years back when she was touring Europe with Gordon, her boyfriend at the time. Strictly speaking the actual event wasn't a TUG - in fact it was frightening for her at the time - but over the years it's lost most of it's sting and it even became an actual TUG/role-playing scenario between us while we were together. I'll come to that later. That's why I'm recounting it here. She doesn't mind my retelling as long as I keep surnames out.

Nikki and Gordon were two young ex-pat Australians living in the UK. Eager to make the most of their time overseas, they would visit as many cities and sights as possible during long weekends and holidays on the continent. Italy was a particular favourite. On this occasion they flew to a small regional city which was renowned for it's excellent regional wine and food. Although they were both very much in love with each other, each noticed the other watching the well and often skimpily dressed locals. Gordon was nonplussed by her occasional glances, but Nikki was bothered by her partner's wandering eye for the girls, and so had taken to dress more in the local style during their trips. She wore much more fitted clothing than in London, and that day she sported a tight white short-sleeved top with horizontal black stripes and even tighter low-cut jeans that ended just below her knees. A thick black belt with silver buckle and a man's Tag Heuer on her left wrist completed the look. Later when she was with me she wore this outfit and she looked smashing: toned and sweetly curved.

They had spent a couple of wonderful days walking in the sunshine and eating alfresco, and had decided they had absorbed enough Vitamin D: it was culture time. But they had miscalculated the walking distance to the city's main museum and arrived rather late in the day. As their flight was due to depart in the morning, they decided to enter the building anyway and try to see as much as possible in the few hours remaining.

One advantage of being there so late in the day was the lack of crowds, and they were able to see most of the exhibits, albeit briefly. But Nikki was determined to linger at the Etruscan exhibits, a period which she had studied at University. Despite Gordon repeatedly pointing out the late hour, and the fact the place was deserted, she would keep saying; “Just a few minutes.” Exasperated, Gordon finally made her agree to meet him downstairs at the museum shop, but threatened to leave for their hotel if she wasn't there in 10 minutes sharp: closing time. She crossed her heart and promised.

Nikki turned her attention back to the artefacts, but was startled some time later when she finally looked at her watch and realised 20 minutes had passed in what seemed like an instant. She sadly waved the Etruscans farewell and speed-walked down the now deserted halls for the exit and the shop. However she took a wrong turn and instead of the stairway she found herself in another hall, the Renaissance era this time. She was just about to turn back when a Security Guard who was locking a door at the far end of the room signalled her to stop. He was in his 30s, wearing an impressive uniform and cap. He asked Nikki a question in Italian, and she helplessly held up her hands in non-comprehension – her linguistic skills were best suited for the bar and restaurant. She tried to explain her situation miming she knew it was late by pointing at her watch, and that she was about to go downstairs to meet with her boyfriend. The Guard waggled his finger like an inverted pendulum in that typical Italian way of negation; she wasn't going anywhere. Nikki later told me her memory of what happened next was crystal clear still years later, the sensations etched in her mind. The Guard lifted her prized Mandarina Duck handbag off her shoulder and placed it on the floor. Then twirled his finger, this time indicating she face away from him. She obeyed. Then he frisked her. This surprised Nikki, but then she realised he must be checking her for stolen artefacts; she had read in the newspaper recently that there had been a rash of museum thefts in the country. She relaxed a bit now, as she knew she was 'clean', as the American crime shows put it, and she obligingly held her hands up and out of the way so he could finish his search and she could leave.

Nikki felt a jostle in her back pocket and realised he had slipped her phone out. She started to turn to face him, to find out what the hell he was doing. The Guard just turned her away again, his hands on her shoulders. She felt them slide down her arms and guide her hands behind her back....a pause...then she heard an unfamiliar harsh clicking sound. She couldn't see what was happening behind her back. Her left wrist felt strange; heavier. Like she had on a second watch, fastened a bit loose like her Tag. She was confused. Then that ratchet sound again and a similar feeling on her right - something cold. Nikki instinctively tried to pull her hands away and found that she couldn't; they were linked together...with a chain, her fingers told her. The Guard had handcuffed her.

Nikki couldn't speak she was so shocked. Her alarm only increased with what he did next. She felt her hands being twisted clockwise, one at a time swivelling in the semi- loose cuffs, so her palms faced outwards. Then with more ominous clicks he tightened the handcuffs all the way they could go. She could really feel the pressure on her wrists now, cold and hard. She tried to swivel her hands but she couldn't twist them back. The handcuffs were on too tight. She could barely move her hands and certainly no amount of wriggling would slip the cuffs off. She was secured.

The Guard was equally silent. He turned Nikki around, took her by the upper arm and escorted her towards the opposite door he had previously locked. As she half walked, half stumbled with him she pulled her cuffed hands to one side, still not believing what she would see. Yet there they were, dark grey handcuffs locked on her wrists. The Guard paused, seeing what she was doing, then continued to move her to the door. He pulled out a set of keys with one hand, still holding Nikki with the other, and unlocked the door. Nikki felt that the door was a point of no return, where the public museum ended and something else began. She finally found her voice.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

“Museo closed. I keep you tonight,” he said, and took her through the door.


****


Gordon had searched the Etruscan room for Nikki and now heard voices from a nearby hall. He ran in and found it empty....apart from a handbag on the floor. He rushed over. It was Nikki's. He ran over to the only other door in the room – there was lots of Italian written on it including the word 'Privato' – and heard what sounded like a key finding the lock on the other side. He also heard what sounded like Nikki's muffled voice; arguing. Instinctively he pushed against it with all his weight before it was too late and after a brief resistance it flung back. He saw a guy in a security guard uniform rubbing his face, holding the arm of his girlfriend. She looked strange: her arms were positioned unnaturally behind her back and she was struggling.

Demanding an explanation, a flushed Gordon stepped up to the guard, who seemed to lose all his English and reverted to rapid Italian and hand gestures. The guard turned Nikki around and with his key unlocked her restraints, putting them back in his belt. He waved away Gordon's questions and bade them follow him down a corridor and stairs to another private exit onto the street.

“Museo closed, museo closed,” he muttered as he closed the door on them. On the street the couple heard the door being locked. Then silence apart from the traffic noise behind them. Nikki inspected her wrists which she realised were bothering her; there were angry marks on both where the cuffs had pinched. She rubbed them, bringing the circulation back.

They went back to their hotel, Nikki still shaken. She wondered if they should go to the Police?

“What for?” Gordon replied. “It's our word against the security guard. And he might say he was taking you to them.”

“But I didn't steal anything,” Nikki protested.

“His word against yours,” he repeated. “And he did find you there after closing time.”

And that was that, they let it go. They caught their plane next day and flew back to the UK. Over the next few months Nikki mentioned that day a couple of times, but Gordon just passed it off as 'just a mistake'. Nikki wasn't so sure. What would've happened to her if the Guard had taken her to his room? Would he have handed her over to the police? Or as he said in his broken English, 'kept her'? Maybe in a cell downstairs? In handcuffs? All night? What else would he do with her? Why did he take her mobile phone away, to isolate her from help? It was these questions that kept her wondering. Also, while she was terrified at the time she now realised in addition she was excited and thrilled; and these emotions were the ones that remained with her long after the marks in her wrists had faded.

I heard the story a few years later, soon after we started dating. She seemed a bit embarrassed about it but I pressed her for the full story, and how the experience made her feel – that really turned her pink. When she finished I told her the part I found strangest: why the Guard had cuffed her so securely. Nikki hadn't really considered that aspect and asked why I thought that was strange. I told her as far as I knew tightening cuffs with hands rotated outward was something done when the arrested person was a criminal, especially a dangerous one. The position of the hands and fingers meant it was impossible for the detainee to pick the lock. And Nikki didn't look the dangerous criminal type. Nor one who carried lock-picks in her handbag.

“Did you resist?” I asked.

“No, not at all.” she replied.

That evening I learned that her continued fascination with the experience was partly due to the 'what if' factor: what if the Guard hadn't forgotten her handbag, what if Gordon with no clue to her presence, had turned back and left for their hotel, and partly due to how the experience made her feel long after the event; the fear almost forgotten but the exciting memory of her captivity strengthening each year.

So a few weeks later I asked her to meet me after hours one evening at our local community library. I told her that we were going to a party that had been booked there, when in fact nothing of the kind had been arranged. I had arranged with a librarian friend to give me the keys for closing time 'studying'; he was fine with that. I asked Nikki to wear a certain outfit which brought a smile to her face. She wasn't suspicious, she knew I liked her in tight clothes.

The library was off the main road on a side street. I was lurking in the darkened foyer and I saw her arrive at the brightly lit front door, and send me a text that she'd arrived. She was wearing the same striped top, tight jeans down to just below her knees. Perfect. I was wearing the best approximation I could find of an Italian Museum Security Guard uniform – yes, I looked like a Libyan dictator, but it was close. I put my cap on, opened the door and quickly took Nikki by the arm and brought her inside, locking the door behind us. At first she couldn't see much, being blinded by the light outside. She knew it was me but was confused. She then made out my uniform in the gloom and made a small sound of surprise.

I twirled my finger around, and she obeyed, but to me this time. I frisked her, took away her phone, and just like the Italian cuffed her wrists behind her back; twisting the palms outward until her thumbs were showing and tightening both handcuffs. I could feel her breathing rapidly as she said,

“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

“Museo closed. I keep you tonight,” I whispered into her ear, and led her away.
If the Bindee can reach the knots with her fingertips the Binder has done a poor job.
Tapedupcouple
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Post by Tapedupcouple »

What a great story! A museum seems like such a great place for tugs and thats awesome you guys got to throw your own little twist on it as well!
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

Thanks for that! Admittedly a library was a poor stand in for a Museum but it was the best I could arrange at the time.
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Post by Tapedupcouple »

Snidely wrote: 2 years ago Thanks for that! Admittedly a library was a poor stand in for a Museum but it was the best I could arrange at the time.
Haha my wife would love to be tied and gagged in a library.

Cant help but wonder if that guard snapped some cuffs on you as well taking you both
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

That would've been unlikely considering I wasn't the one actually there.
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bourbonbeard

Post by bourbonbeard »

This is a fantastic story! Thanks for sharing. I’d love to hear what happened next.

I hooked up in a college library (nothing TUGS) but it was thrilling all the same.
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

What happened next was deciding where to take her. Not 'Children's Corner'. Not 'Sci-Fi & Fantasy '. In the end I escorted her to 'Crime & Punishment' 😄
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bourbonbeard

Post by bourbonbeard »

Snidely wrote: 2 years ago What happened next was deciding where to take her. Not 'Children's Corner'. Not 'Sci-Fi & Fantasy '. In the end I escorted her to 'Crime & Punishment' 😄
Haha perfect! Please tell more!
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

Let's just say Nikki enjoyed a night of cuffs, cages and (not so solitary) confinement!
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Post by bourbonbeard »

Cages??
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

Certainly, it was an arrest fantasy after all. Had to try to make it authentic. The only hard part was lugging the cage, covered by a sheet, into the library just after closing. Luckily no one was around. Lucky too I work at a vet practice where cages can be borrowed overnight! 😉
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Post by dogrednuht123 »

[mention]Snidely[/mention]

Amazing story. Love the backstory followed by your improvised twist on it.

The comments are hysterical on this story. Almost as entertaining as the story itself. Ha.

I was content with how the story ended but now you have peaked my interest in hearing a continuation to the story. Our beautiful heroine Nikki was not only cuffed in the library but also caged??? That is most fiendishly diabolical. Hopefully you made sure the damsel abided by the strict "No Talking" policy in the Library. I would hate to hear her being punished for that.

Hopefully you can share the rest of the story as inquiring minds would like to know.

All in all great work and hope to read more of your stories.
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Snidely
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Post by Snidely »

Well, we were pretending it was a Museum rather than a library, so the 'No talking' rule didn't apply. But don't worry, Nikki was in enough trouble being caught in a Museum after hours! They're strict about that in Italy! (so I hear).

And yes, the story had reached its natural conclusion; a good point to stop, with the reader wanting more (I succeeded at that at least!). I didn't plan to reveal any more. But tell you what, if I get 5 votes for a sequel, I will write one and post it here.
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Post by dogrednuht123 »

[mention]Snidely[/mention]

You definitely ended with a cliffhanger. The readers would like more. I cast 1 vote for a sequel. Here's hoping I get at least 4 more to follow suit.

Keep up the great work. I enjoy reading your stories. Thanks for sharing.
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Post by AmyRu »

Love it!!!
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