Me getting tied up (?/f)

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Druid_Princess
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Me getting tied up (?/f)

Post by Druid_Princess »

Like to see if anyone would write a story about me getting tied for one reason or another. Maybe in a home robbery, or you just didn’t like my rock/pop music, found me peeping through things I wasn’t supposed to be?

A fun scenario could be that I was doing investigative journalism for the high school paper and found out too much information. Or I was babysitting a rebel kid. Maybe throw in some tickle torture or other light hearted torture, like making me listen to country music lol.
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Post by Detective-Gag »

I could give it a try.

I’ll probably borrow one of the scenario suggestions.

I’m assuming that the profile picture should be used for physical description.

Lastly, is there a fake name you want for your “character”?
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Post by Alisonlovesropes »

Here’s an unuasual take.

The [mention]Druid_Princess[/mention] ran barefoot through the Forrest. She had been practicing her rituals and awoken a spirit fairy Alison she did not intend to. Fairy Alison was not happy and flew after the frightened Druid Princess, whose long green robes prevented her from running quickly. She pulled the robe up to her knees, but the occasional bramble and stones on the Forrest floor hurt her bare feet and slowed her down. Eventually she tripped over a tree root and fell to the soft earth below. Fairy Alison caught up with her and circled the prone princess.

“This is what real fairy magic is like.” The wicked fairy said, and in a twinkling of stars grass , tree branches, roots and all manner of plants reached out to the Druid Princess, encircling her wrists and ankles, he waits, knees, and elbows. She was stretched out held firmly by the plants unable to move. The bough of a tree swooshes down towards her dropping an apple into her mouth as grass grew around her head trapping the fruit in her oral cavity and silencing her.

“You woke me from my slumber so I shall ensure the creatures of the Forrest deprive you of sleep.l With a wave of her hands there was the scampering of hundreds of tiny feet, flapping of wings and more. Druid princess soon found hundreds of woodland animals were running around her tummy, up and down her legs, scraping their small feet on her under arms, it most irritating of all, tiny claws feathers and tongues tickled her bare feet, tree roots even grew around her big toes pulling her soles back and preventing her from wiggling her toes or feet.

Fairy Alison hovered just above her head, he own bare feet a few centimetres from Druid Princesses face. Have fun. With a swirl of glowing lights Fairy Alison vanished.

The torment of the Druid Princess went on for hours, with daytime animals and birds being replaced with nighttime creatures and owls. And they all tickled her bare feet.


Sorry if this is too off beat but with your name, how could I resist?
Sometimes gagged, sometimes blindfold. Always barefoot.
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Druid_Princess
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Post by Druid_Princess »

Detective-Gag wrote: 10 months ago I could give it a try.

I’ll probably borrow one of the scenario suggestions.

I’m assuming that the profile picture should be used for physical description.

Lastly, is there a fake name you want for your “character”?
For the description, you can use the profile photo. Currently my hair is dyed dark blue if you like to use that, am 15 and stand 5’5. And you can use “Kari” as the name, it’s the name I use for myself in all my stories. It is a fake name still.
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Reight
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Post by Reight »

Sounds interesting and fun. If you have any other suggestions apart from the ones you have there, i am all ears
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Post by Python_Struggles »

Alisonlovesropes wrote: 10 months ago Here’s an unuasual take.

The @Druid_Princess ran barefoot through the Forrest. She had been practicing her rituals and awoken a spirit fairy Alison she did not intend to. Fairy Alison was not happy and flew after the frightened Druid Princess, whose long green robes prevented her from running quickly. She pulled the robe up to her knees, but the occasional bramble and stones on the Forrest floor hurt her bare feet and slowed her down. Eventually she tripped over a tree root and fell to the soft earth below. Fairy Alison caught up with her and circled the prone princess.

“This is what real fairy magic is like.” The wicked fairy said, and in a twinkling of stars grass , tree branches, roots and all manner of plants reached out to the Druid Princess, encircling her wrists and ankles, he waits, knees, and elbows. She was stretched out held firmly by the plants unable to move. The bough of a tree swooshes down towards her dropping an apple into her mouth as grass grew around her head trapping the fruit in her oral cavity and silencing her.

“You woke me from my slumber so I shall ensure the creatures of the Forrest deprive you of sleep.l With a wave of her hands there was the scampering of hundreds of tiny feet, flapping of wings and more. Druid princess soon found hundreds of woodland animals were running around her tummy, up and down her legs, scraping their small feet on her under arms, it most irritating of all, tiny claws feathers and tongues tickled her bare feet, tree roots even grew around her big toes pulling her soles back and preventing her from wiggling her toes or feet.

Fairy Alison hovered just above her head, he own bare feet a few centimetres from Druid Princesses face. Have fun. With a swirl of glowing lights Fairy Alison vanished.

The torment of the Druid Princess went on for hours, with daytime animals and birds being replaced with nighttime creatures and owls. And they all tickled her bare feet.


Sorry if this is too off beat but with your name, how could I resist?
Haha points for being creative! Loved this [mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention]
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Post by Bondageboi »

Druid_Princess wrote: 10 months ago Like to see if anyone would write a story about me getting tied for one reason or another. Maybe in a home robbery, or you just didn’t like my rock/pop music, found me peeping through things I wasn’t supposed to be?

A fun scenario could be that I was doing investigative journalism for the high school paper and found out too much information. Or I was babysitting a rebel kid. Maybe throw in some tickle torture or other light hearted torture, like making me listen to country music lol.
You’ve done lots of home robbery stories yourself. [mention]drgoremd[/mention] has just written the investigative journalist story. Lots of people tied you up for playing loud music badly (and [mention]JulieG[/mention] made you listen to country). And the babysitter tied up is just old hat.

So caught snooping through things you shouldn’t is left. Any ideas where you’d like this to go?
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Post by Evr888 »

I’d love to write one for you! Maybe a babysitting one? Any particular outfit you’d like me to use for you? Or I could use pfp just need to know what’s on your feet ?
Last edited by Evr888 8 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Trammel »

“So Kari, I hear you do challenges,” I say.

“What do you mean challenges?” Kari asks.

“It's really quite simple. You know how you're always saying that you can beat people in track and other various challenges? That's impressive. I had another challenge in mind. One I'm willing to bet you'd have more trouble with.”

“Yeah right,” Kari replies. “What challenge could I possibly have trouble with?”

15-year-old Kari was not one to back down from challenges. She had her pride to think of, you know. At 5 foot 5 inches tall and wearing a short sleeve black shirt and black shorts, with dark hair died blue, she worked very hard at maintaining a persona.

“One I'm willing to bet that I would win at,” I say.

“Yeah right,” Kari says. “What on earth do you have in mind?”

“An escape challenge,” I say, having heard from a friend that Kari likes the challenge of being tied up.

“An escape challenge?” Kari asks, intrigued and playing dumb. “What's that? Do you think you're going to tie me up or something because if you do I know I can get out.”

“I know you can't,” I say, challenging Kari’s sense of self-confidence. I was pretty sure I was going to back her into a corner she could not get out of even if she wanted to, which of course she didn't.

“I've been tied up before and I always get out,” Kari says.

“But you haven't been tied up by me,” I say.

“So if I decide to accept how does this work exactly?” Kari asks.

“Very simple,” I say. “I tie you up and you try to escape.”

“How long do I have to escape,” Kari asks.

“How long do you want?” I ask.

“It really doesn't matter,” Kari replies. “There's no way you can tie me up in such a way that I can't get out.”

“So I guess we won't worry about a time limit?” I ask.

“Why should we?” asks Kari who is getting excited about the possibility of the challenge and not really thinking about what would happen if she can't get loose. After all, she had played games like this before and she had always gotten free.

“Shall we begin?” I ask. I lead Kari to the out building in the back part of the yard where nobody ever goes and we step inside.

Do your worst, Kari says. This should take all of 5 minutes.

I pull out a wooden chair and put it in the middle of the room. I also pull out a nice bag of white cotton rope which I had prepared for the occasion.

"Come over here Kari and turn around and put your hands behind your back."

Kari walks over to me, turns around, and puts her hands behind her back. I grab her wrists and place her hands palm to palm. I take some white cotton rope and wrap it several times around the olive skin of her wrists and then I knot the rope several times. I then wrap the rope around her wrist bindings and between her wrists several times and knot this binding above her wrists and well away from her fingers, synching the rope tight around her wrists but not so tight as to cut off the circulation.

“That's tight,” Kari says.

“I know,” I say. “I said I was going to win and I really don't want you wiggling out of this."

I then take another rope and wrap it around Kari’s arms above her elbows. I knot the rope and pull it tight, drawing her elbows close to one another but not so close that they touch. I then tie this off.

“Now come over here and sit in the chair,” I say to Kari.

As she sits in the chair I help to guide her tied arms over the back of the chair so that she is sitting with her arms bound over the back of the chair. I then take more rope and wrap it around her chest, binding her tightly to the back of the chair. I allow Kari to keep her black shoes and socks on and I take more rope and tie her ankles together and her legs above and below her knees. Each one of these ties I synch tightly between her legs and ankles.

“Are you sure you need to use this much rope?” Kari asks.

“Oh, I'm very sure,” I say.

“Great,” Kari says, visibly squirming at this point.

Finally, I take a rope and loop it over her wrists and under the bottom of the chair to her ankles. I used this rope to draw her wrists and ankles toward one another in somewhat of a chair hog tie. I tie this off with the knots by her ankles so she can't begin to reach them. I step back and admire my handiwork.

“How's that?,” I ask.

Kari squirms a little bit but really can't move that much.

“I'd say you did a pretty thorough job of tying me up,” Kari says. “It's going to take some effort to get out of this.”

“That's good," I say ." I'll just sit here and enjoy the show. It will be fun watching you escape as you promised you would."

At first Kari seems to be really concentrating, trying to figure out if there are any flaws in the way I have her tied. I can see her squirming and testing her bonds. I can see her flexing her hands and wrists a little bit and working her legs a little bit but nothing moves much. She is very well bound.

“I can see you trying to work on a plan to escape,” I say. “So, Kari, how would you say I did?”

“I'm going to get out of this but I have to admit this is the best I've ever been tied up,” Kari says. “Most other times I'd be almost free by now."

Well this time Kari most certainly is not free or even close to it. It is really fun watching this damsel. The white rope on the olive skin of her arms and legs makes a nice contrast. Kari Is thoroughly trussed up to the chair and I really don't see much chance that she's going to be escaping anytime soon.

“So how long do I stay tied up?” Kari asks.

“How long? I thought you said you would get out and there was no time limit,” I say.

“I know but I didn't think you we're going to tie me up like this,” says Kari.

“I must say you are really cute tied up like that,” I say.

“Thanks a lot,” Kari says sarcastically. “So can you untie me?”

“Not so fast,” I say.

Kari squirms uncomfortably.

“You need to let me go,” Kari says.

“I don't need to,” I reply. “You promised you would get out.”

“I know I said that but I didn't know I was going to be tied like this,” says Kari looking more concerned.

“Well, I'm afraid you're going to be tied up just a bit longer. I really want to see if you can do this,” I say. “I did forget something however.”

With that I take out a sock. It's clean because I don't really like to engage in the level of torture that many people do. I wad it up and ask Kari to open her mouth. She does and I stuff it in her mouth. Then I take a bandana and pull it in her mouth and around the back of her head and tie it off tightly, gagging her.

“How's that?” I ask.

“Mppphhh,” Kari Replies.

“Well I certainly hope you have fun escaping. I really want to see how long it takes. You do look great. Good luck.”

With that, I walk over to the door. I take a backward glance at Kari and she is frantically struggling and mppphhhing into her gag. The last thing I do before closing the door is turn an old radio in the shed to a nice country station so Kari will have something to listen to. Honky tonk and bluegrass is especially popular on this station.

@ Druid_Princess I will leave this story right here but I would love to hear how you might continue it from your perspective.

Have fun!
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.

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Post by rebok »

My parents were on vacation, and because I had stayed out too late last week, despite being old enough to babysit, I was grounded and had to stay with one of my mom's friend Diane, a nurse. I was dropped off at her house, and unpacked what I needed for the week, and went to watch TV.

Over the course of the week we actually got along really well. But that Sunday afternoon Diane got a call to go collect her daughter and friends from soccer camp across town. With all the people she had to pick up there wasn't enough room for me in the car. But she promised my parents I wouldn't sneak off and didn't want to leave me at the house unsupervised.

Among the piles of equipment I noticed some rope. So I said in an offhand way "well, you could always use that rope to keep me out of trouble while you're out". For context, I had always wanted to try escaping but was too shy to ask friends; this felt like a unique opportunity.
Diane mused to herself, then said to me, "Oh, I dont know if that's necessary".

Bashfully, I said "I want to see if I can get out, though it's ok if i can't". "Hmm, well ok meet me in living room,
I think I can make this work," and she walked away.

I was expecting she would return with an arm-full of rope, but instead she held with what I later learned was called a Posey-brand straitjacket. Noticing my surprise, she reminded me of her nursing job. "This jacket was decommissioned, though I assure it will do the job", she offered.
Looking at it, it had buckles on the back, straps at the end of each sleeve, a loop sewn in the front, and another strap that dangled vertically.
"Ok Kari, I dont want to use rope on your arms, but for your feet we can make do. Now hold out your arms, I'm going to explain the purpose of the straps as I go; you'll be comfortable enough, but let me show you why you won't going anywhere", said with with a wry smile.

I suddenly had goosebumps. As I extended my arms, Diane approached carefully, the buckles of the straitjacket jingling with every step. She gently slid my arms into the sleeves, explaining how the design of the jacket was meant for restraint while ensuring the wearer's safety. Once my arms slipped through, she pulled it snug around my torso and began fastening the back buckles one by one.

With each click of a buckle, my anticipation climbed, blending with a twinge of apprehension that I had not expected. Diane's professionalism was reassuring, yet the situation was surreal, far removed from the mundanity of watching TV and the pouty boredom of a grounded teenager.

The straitjacket enveloped me in an embrace that was secure but not overtight, its canvas fabric crafted to discourage escape without chafing. When she reached for the straps at the end of the sleeves, Diane explained their purpose was to restrict arm movement by folding my arms across my front and linking the ends behind my back.

I observed with a peculiar fascination as she deftly guided my arms, respecting the way my breath hitched when the loop at the jacket's front was used to keep them in place, leaving my hands effectively useless. The remaining vertical strap, intriguing in its singularity, turned out to connect to the crossed arms and buckle behind my back, further restricting any possibility of wriggling free.

With the jacket secure, Diane fetched the rope from the equipment pile. She was adept at knot-tying, a skill she attributed to years of securing medical equipment and patients when necessary. The rope's texture brushed against my ankles as she bound them together, just tight enough to restrict movement. Once my feet were tied, she stood back to admire her handiwork with a nod of approval.

The finality of her actions settled over me, stirring a newfound respect for escape artists and a fluttering of claustrophobia. Nonetheless, I squirmed experimentally, discovering how my range of motion was expertly curtailed.

"You might be surprised at how difficult it is to escape a properly applied straitjacket," Diane mused. "Feel free to give it a try while I'm away. But don't worry, I'll be back well before dinner, and I promise you're safe."

And with that, she was gone, leaving me in an almost meditative silence punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic and the ambient creaks of the house.

Those first few moments alone were filled with attempts to test the limits of my restraints. I hunched, twisted, and shuffled in ways that I imagined might free me, guided by scenes from movies and stories I had read about legendary escape artists. Surges of determination washed over me, followed by the laughter at my own predicacy.

Time ebbed away, a silent stream, measured not by clock hands but by the gradual acceptance of my predicament. Straining against the straitjacket and rope, despite their tenacious grip, provided me with my own private challenge.

The jacket's design began to showcase its ingenuity as every movement I attempted seemed to have been anticipated by its creator. My attempts to reach the buckles were fruitless; the way my arms were crossed and bound left the buckles just out of reach. The moments I spent grappling for freedom allowed me to ponder the my own restlessness, and implicit yearning for liberty.

The first hour passed, and shadows grew longer across the floor. A growing fatigue underscored my endeavors. The jacket, its inanimate certainty, had outlasted my vigor and seemed almost smug in its unyielding posture. My energy spent, I resigned myself to await Diane's return, resting in an odd tranquility that comes with surrender.

While bound in physical stasis, my mind roamed. I pondered the unexpected bond forming between Diane and me—a shared secret, an adventure into the realms of trust and reliance. How strange it was to be connected through this act; me indulging a curiosity, and her facilitating it with an unexpected openness.

By the time Diane returned, I greeted her with a sheepish grin. My futile attempts at escape were abandoned, but in their place was a newfound respect for restraint, for the people who understand it, and strangely, for the vulnerability it forced me to confront.

Diane released me with gentle efficiency, her nurse's touch evident in the careful way she unfurled each buckle and loosened the rope. I flexed my fingers and rolled my shoulders, savoring the fresh freedom of those simple movements.

"Well then, Kari," Diane said with a wry smile as I finally stood unfettered, "what do you think of your escapology debut?"

"It's much harder than I thought," I admitted with a laugh, rubbing my wrists fondly. "But it was kind of amazing in its own way. Thank you for humoring me."

"Safely testing your limits is part of growing up," Diane replied warmly. "And I'm here to help with more than just watching TV."

As she disappeared into the kitchen to prepare dinner, I contemplated the curious contours of my Sunday afternoon—a day that began with confinement and ended with an unexpected sense of release.
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