Tyler : My Wool Sock Bondage Experience with Molly (f/m, f/self)

[TamatoaShiny123]

(Reposted from Original Site. Enjoy!)

Two summers ago was a rather interesting summer for me. I was preparing myself for a month long trip to Paris, France, to study French and International Law, and this was the summer I was introduced to Mollie, the cousin of a good friend of mine. We readily befriended each other, and spent a great deal of time together over the course of those fateful summer months. Nothing romantic conspired, just a good friendship, and one memorable bondage experience for me.

Mollie and I were hanging out together at her house one unbearably hot june afternoon, just watching television and such. We eventually made our way down to the cooler basement, I believe to shoot a few games of pool. Before we went down the stairs, we decided that a wager on our makeshift pool tournament would be necessary to "spice up the game." The decision was made that the loser of the match would be subjected to whatever the other pleased (within certain boundaries) for a set duration of time, which I believe was 5 hours. This sounded more than reasonable to both of us. Right about now, I set out to shoot the most reprehensible pool I have in my entire life. And I wasn't doing it on purpose.

Seriously. After a quick half hour, it was readily apparent that I was the vanquished, and she the victor. I figured I had some overtly unpleasant experience looming in my near future; I was gravely, gravely mistaken.

"Well, I do believe that you are subjected to my will for the next five hours, are you not?" spouted Mollie rather self-assuredly.

"Yeah, it looks like I am. What do you have planned for me?"

"I think, probably, I'll want a good deal of peace and quiet, to, you know, reflect on my superior billiards ability."

"Fine, whatever. What now?"

Well, "now," meant that we were going to head to her bedroom, although not before she had gathered an enormous armload of cotton rope, and a laundry basket full of clothes.

As we trooped up into her bedroom, I was informed that the laundry basket was almost entirely full of Mollie's dirty wool socks, as she had just returned the day before from a week long hiking trip up North. Oh goody, I thought at the time. We finally entered Mollie's bedroom, and I noticed that a few drawers had been opened and emptied, and that their contents were all spread on the floor in several neatly arranged piles. Strangely enough *wink wink* these too, were piles of this girl's socks. I was curious what sort of sock fetish this girl had, until I rememberd, "Oh yeah, I have a sock fetish too." Hehehe. That was a good realization.

Mollie somewhat roughly, somewhat gently pushed me face first onto her bed, and I figured that resistance would be futile (sic). She seemed very intent to let me know the whole time exactly what she was doing.

"Well, Tyler, first I'm putting a pair of green argyle socks over your hands, and then I'm covering those socks with a very thick pair of grey hiking socks. I don't want you trying to untie your bound hands, now do I?"

I just kind of mumbled, attempting to disguise my rising pleasure at the situation. Soon after the socks were placed on my hands, I felt the first of several coils of cotton rope encircling my wrists, then being cinched over the loops. So now, I have her argyle socks and her wool socks pulled over my hands, which are tied up quite tightly, and rather escape proof. After determining that any attempts at struggling or maneuvering my tied and socked hands would be total failure, I sat, well, laid back, as she next began to tie my ankles in the same manner as my hands. Very tightly, and totally without possibility of escape. I thought, at this moment, that I might just be forced to be bound on this girl's bed for the next few hours. Oh no. And she began to speak to me again:

"Well, Tyler, now that I've got you all tied up, and thick socks on your hands so you won't be able to untie yourself, what do you have to say about a gag? I have all these wonderful socks here, and I would hate for any of them to go to waste. What do you think about a nice, tight, wool sock gag? Hmm?"

Attempting to fain either disinterest or negative surprise, I responded:

"What?!? Don't even begin to think that you are for one second going to gag me with those socks. You've been wearing themmmmmppphhhhh...."

And with that, Mollie thrust a knotted pair of dark blue wool socks into my complaining mouth. Now, if you have ever tried to speak while you are gagged with a giant ball of some girl's wool socks, let me tell you, it ain't easy. It just ain't possible. I managed what I thought was a decent sized scream, but it came out a little quiter than normal conversation volume.

"Wow," Mollie enquired, "I had no idea how good of a gag those dirty wool socks would make. Maybe I'll give you another one."

So this girl now decides to take what I only guessed was a soccer sock, blue to match the first wool sock gag, from behind her back and then wraps my already sock gagged mouth with this new, used sock. By now I am totally immobile, and she definitely noticed this. And for some reason, it appeared to intrigue her. Without saying another word, she fumbled around on the floor and came up with a few more pairs of her dirty wool socks. She slid her feet into a very thick looking pair of brownish grey wool socks, and then grabbed one of the remaining coils of rope. Mollie proceeded to tightly bind her wool socked ankles together, and then cinch the loops, ensuring her immobility. The second to last pair of wool socks she grabbed, she proceeded to tie another knot in, apparently fashioning another wool sock gag, this one for herself. She grabbed the large knot of wool sock, this pair happened to be dark green, and tried to bite down as much as is humanly possible on a wool sock knot comparable to the one that was gagging me at the time.

Now, with her socked ankles tied tightly and well gagged with her wool socks, she grabbed the partner to the blue soccer sock encircling my gagged face. With surprising agility and ability, she double sock gagged herself, in the exact fashion that I was gagged. The third and final pair of wool socks she had set out for use she slipped onto her hands. This pair of socks was dark brown, darker than the pair she had on her bound feet. After her hands got inside the wool socks, I watched as she expertly took a pair of Smith and Wesson police issue handcuffs, and tightly cuffed her socked hands behind her back.

There we lay, on her bed, for the next 4 and a half hours or so. Both with our hands in her wool socks, tightly tied hand and foot, and VERY securely sock gagged, each with a pair of her wool socks shoved deep in our mouths, and a blue soccer sock protecting against any effort to thrust the wool socks out of our gagged mouths. We eventually were released when her mother got home. Apparently, we had both fallen asleep tied up and sock gagged, and boy was her mother angry. Qutie angry, you could say. Nothing of any romantic note happened, we just both enjoyed a good afternoon being tied up and gagged, with many, many pairs of dirty wool socks.

The end