Wished for Mom, Sis and Cousins (m-solo, f/m, F/m, Ff/m, m/m, m/f, FFf/m, Ff+/m)

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GermanTUGFriend
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Post by GermanTUGFriend »

[mention]tiedinbluetights[/mention]

What an amazing work !! I love to see and read your story with great enjoyment, it's written so well and fine ! I like it very much to follow Sebby on his way wearing tights, long sleeve leotards, ballet shoes and other girly clothing. And the bondage and tie ups are really great, too. Using rope, duct tape, socks and more things make it very enjoyable to read your stories :) :)

So I'm really excited what will happen in the next chapter and what Janice has in store for Tuesday evening ;) Maybe a matching nail polish as a reminder of the event ? (Only for the toenails I think, because Sebby has school the next day....maybe on a following weekend his fingernails will get some polish, too....)

So keep up the great and amazing work !! :) :)
No proper TUG without gagging and hooding ^^ And don't forget a blindfold ;)
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Post by tiedinbluetights »

Thanks again for the encouraging comments from those who post! I understand that some of you wish I could post parts more often, so I'm going to subdivide the Tuesday night events into two mid-sized parts rather than the one very long chapter I intended initially. I'm very busy at work, so I hope this does not affect the quality of this story.

Also, I would like to address at this stage my main motivation in writing this story: it is to re-frame much of my own early experiences and development with tie-up games (and tangential interests that became associated with tie-ups) when I was a kid. For as far back as I can remember, I was interested in getting tied up and in smelling girls'/women's feet; all the way back to when I was 4 or 5 years old. Likewise for wanting to wear tight fitted clothes like tights and leotards. I envied that my sister and mom could not only wear tights, but were expected to (while, I was ridiculed once for having worn a pair my mom gave me in real life on a cold winter day at school).

My desire to re-frame is also in part inspired by an article on The Swaddle. The article resonated with me and made me wonder just how much more liberating it would have been to have been my 11 year-old self, growing-up in a more tie-up-game-friendly environment, instead of what really happened where I was made to feel as if something was very wrong with me for wanting to be tied-up. Hence, the 'wished for' in the title. But without further delays, here is the first of two chapters on Tuesday night's events.


Part 7---Tuesday Night Tie-Up Preparations

As I enter our home after my sister, I smell the sweet aroma of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and steamed carrots. My mom must have cooked up supper early so that Janice would just have to feed my sister and I without worrying about getting food also ready. My sister has already removed her outdoor shoes and coat and switch into her indoor slippers, so I do the same. We both great our mom in the kitchen, where she has just finished-up the cooking.

"Hello mom!"

"Hello Margo, hello Seb," my mom replies. "I just finished preparing your supper for later tonight. Do you have any homework for tomorrow?"

"Not me, finished what I had to do at school," answers my sister, Margaret.

"I have a bit of math homework, should take me no more than 30 minutes," I reply.

"That's good," my mom comments. "Your aunt Beatrice will be here in just under an hour, to drop Janice off and pick me up for our outing this evening. That gives me just enough time to get ready. Now, before I go change, I want to tell you Sebby, that I know you like to be tied-up and would like to be tied-up all night, so Janice and I have planned something that we hope will work out for this one night, while still allowing you to sleep safely without disturbing anyone else's sleep unless an emergency arises."

"Mom, can I wait till later to wash up and change, I'd like to make Sebby smell my feet while he's tied-up!" chimes in my sister.

"Are you okay with that Sebby?" my mom asks. I feel my cheeks turn beet-red again, but hesitate to answer.

"I won't tell you what Lucille and I talked about during recess if you don't!" Margaret exclaims. I stay quiet.

"Is Lucille that girl we briefly saw at the ballet school last Saturday?" my mom asks Margo.

"Yes, and she is in Seb's grade 6 class; she told me she likes Sebby, but I won't say more about what we talked about during recess, unless Seb smells my feet while tied-up!"

"That seems fair to me," my mom says with a little smile while giving me a wink. "What do you say Sebby?"

"I don't want Lucille to think I am weird, or a freak," I say, and I can feel my eyes watering-up.

My mom hugs me and says "my dear poor Sebby, I will repeat what I said to you on Saturday when I found you tied-up by your own hands. I love you and do not consider you a freak or a pervert or anything of the sort; your tastes in games may be unusual, but so long as you remain a good boy, don't force those games onto others, and they are played safely so no one gets hurt, I see no harm in them. Would you be happy if you were never again tied-up, never again wore tights and leotards?"

"No, that would make me very sad, mom."

"As Janice and I figured out. That's why we, your sister included, are trying to figure out ways for you to play these games safely. It is why I don't want you playing with people I don't know or don't trust. Should this girl, or anyone else, find out about your predilections and judge you negatively for them, then they are not the kind of people you should trust and hang out with. So, are we okay for you to have some fun till tomorrow morning when you need to be off to school?"

My mom's warm smile and hugs reassures me, and I answer "yes mom!" with a smile returning to my face.

"And you have to call me Princess Margaret till we're off to school tomorrow!" pipes in my sister.

I bow before my younger sister and say "yes Princess Margaret, and it will be my pleasure to endure whatever torment my Princess Margaret wishes to impose on me tonight."

"Caution, my dear Sebby, that's what we call a rash boon!" my mom exclaims with a wry smile and a wink. "Now, I'm going to store the food in the oven to keep it warn till supper time, and then go up to get changed; you should head upstairs too Seb and wash up, change into the clothes I've laid out for you on your bed, and then finish your math homework; Margo, you can watch TV if you wish, but when your bed time comes, after whatever foot smelling torture you put poor Seb through, you will have to wash up and let Janice tuck you in bed."

"Yes mom," my sister answers; "yes Queen Anne," I answer.

I go up into the common bathroom to wash-up while my mom finishes preparing supper and then goes into the master bedroom she shares with my dad in order to change (the master bedroom has it's own separate private bathroom my mom and dad use). After I finish washing up and step out of the bathroom in my bathrobe, I grab my school bag that I left by my bedroom door and enter my room. Laid out on top of my bed I see instead of my usual pyjamas, the pair of black tights and the shiny pink long-sleeved mock-turtlenecked leotard I wore Saturday! The pink canvas ballet shoes are by the bed as well, but what has me perplexed is what appears to be a large sized diaper. I turn back to the hallway and knock on the master bedroom's door, which is right across from my bedroom.

"Yes?" my mom answers from inside.

"Mom, there is what seems to be a diaper on my bed," I call out matter a factly.

"Yes, indeed. It took Janice and me some time to find some in the right size for you, you will have to put those on now, before you pull on your tights and the leotard on top."

"But, I'm old enough and haven't wet my bed in over two years."

My mom opens her door. She is already mostly done getting changed, wearing a long-sleeved dark-pinkish blouse with colourful floral patterns, and a long black skirt that ends just above her ankles; she also has sheer black nylons on and wearing her slippers. "Seb, you've said you like to be tied-up overnight. You've also complained that you don't like sleeping in your pyjamas because they bunch up. Well, tonight, Janice and I will make your wish to be tied-up overnight and to sleep in something other than your pyjamas come true. But if that is to be, we can't be disturbed in the middle of the night to untie you unless it's an emergency. Having to pee is not an emergency, so the diapers it is, or no tie-ups tonight."

I'm torn. I don't want to wear diapers again, but I so want to experience being truly tied-up, unable to free myself overnight. Also, my mother was implying I'd get to sleep in those silky smooth black tights and leotard. I blush beet-red but say "okay mom, I'll put the diaper on."

"That's a good boy; now I've got to finish putting some make-up on. Get changed, finish your homework before Janice gets here, and when you're done there is another little surprise for you," my mom says with a wink and a little pat on my left cheek.

Back in my bedroom, I reluctantly put on the diaper that surprisingly fitted me well as an 11 year old boy. I then pulled on my black tights, and over those, the long-sleeved mock turtlenecked shiny pink leotard (it had a zippered back, but I'm flexible enough to zip it up myself). Surprisingly, I found the diapers to not show through.

To put on my pink matte canvas ballet slippers with split soles, I sat on my bed and felt something odd through the bed sheets. With my ballet slippers donned, I stood back up and lifted my bed sheets a bit to see. To my astonishment, I saw three thick dark tan coloured leather straps wrapped around my mattress, each buckled along the long left side of my single-sized bed. The leather straps themselves had multiple large holes separated by approximately 3 centimetres each along the central length of the straps, and the straps were themselves about 5 centimetres wide.

I quickly re-did my bed sheets, and sat down at my little work desk to finish my math homework. Despite my excitement at what I saw, which could only mean that my mom and Janice were serious about finding a way for me to sleep safely tied up, I was able to concentrate on finishing my homework efficiently. Once done, I check the clock on my desk and figure Janice will be over anytime soon now. So I go knock on my mom's bedroom door again, and hear my mom call out from the downstairs kitchen "I'm down here."

I go downstairs and into the kitchen, where I see that my mom and sister are watching some show on the small kitchen TV, Janice's bag of secrets that she handed over to my mom last Saturday clearly visible by my mom's chair. As my mom stands up, she faces me and smiles sweetly, asking "all done your homework?"

"Yes mom."

"Good, Princess Margaret and I have a surprise for you, but you must close your eyes and face away from us."

Figuring we are back at role playing them as nobility and me as a peasant slave, I answer "thank you Queen Anne, thank you Princess Margaret," and obey. I hear both my mom and sister giggle and I then hear someone rummaging through the bag.

"Stand still," I hear my mom say, "and no peaking!"

I then feel something wide being wrapped around my waist and pulled tight. Almost immediately after I hear a metallic buckle being fastened followed by slight metallic 'click' as if a lock of some kind got closed. "Don't open your eyes yet," I hear my mom say.

I then feel both my mom and sister each take hold of one of my ankles and wrap something wide around each one. This time I hear two buckles being fastened and two clicks, one from each ankle. Finally, each one takes one of my wrists and once again something wide gets wrapped, buckled, and clicked in place. "You can open your eyes now peasant!" I hear my sister Margo exclaim.

I open my eyes and get to examine my wrists and ankles as well as see what's around my waist. Wrapped around my ankles and wrists are what appear to be about two-and-a-half centimetre wide tan leather buckles, similar in make to the ones I saw strapped around my mattress. However, the prong of each buckle is different from a regular buckle's in that the tip of each prong that passes through a whole in the leather is thicker than usual and has a small suitcase lock passing through it, preventing each buckle from being released. More interestingly, each 'cuff', for lack of a better word, had also four evenly spaced-out metallic rings in the shape of a capital letter 'D' embedded between the two layers of leather that makes each 'cuff'. Around my waist, there is about a 5 centimetre wide tan leather belt also, with the same type of locking buckles and also four evenly spaced-out metallic 'D' shaped rings.

"Janice knows someone who helped her modify some old discarded hospital restraints; you can ask her about it later if you wish. So? What do you think?" my mom asks.

"I like it, I like how it feels against my waist and my wrists and ankles. I can take the waist tighter, but thank you Queen Anne and Princess Margaret," I say. I also add but trail off "and my thanks to ... "

"Queen Janice, you foolish peasant!" my sister exclaims!

"And my thanks to Queen Janice," I add.

"Good, I'm glad you like. As for the tightness, I've noticed how you keep buckling your pants too tight, but since you will be keeping these on all night, unless for an emergency release, I won't make them tight. Plus until you prove to be trustworthy enough to play self-tie-ups safely and always supervised, I can't let you have a copy of the key for the locks. Janice and I have copies," my mom states calmly.

"What about me mommy!" pipes up my sister.

"We'll talk about that later. Now, Janice will be here any time now." As my mom says this, the door bell rings, and my mom goes to answer, while my sister and I stay in the kitchen. As the door opens, I hear my mom and Janice exchange greetings, and I hear someone else's voice also exchanging greetings: my aunt Beatrice's voice!

I turn beet-red and try to go towards the basement stairs, but my sister grabs me with both her arms in a tight hug and says "oh no you don't, aunt Beatrice has not seen us in a couple of months and would like to say hi to us too."

"Come on out of the kitchen you two, and say hi to your aunt," my mom exclaims.

I know there is no point in running away, that would just get me trouble. Plus, my sister whispers into one of my ears "now, follow me or I'll tell everything about your tie-up games to Lucille at school and how you've been a bad brother up until recently."

My sister releases her hug, but then smiles at me and gives me a soft little sisterly kiss on my left cheek, which just makes me blush even redder. She grabs my left hand in her right hand and walks out of the kitchen into the main hallway towards the front door, with me in tow.

"Hello auntie-B!" Margo calls out and let's go of my hand to run up to my aunt and give her a big hug. I just stand there, beet-red, unable to take a further step, in full view of my aunt and cousin in the man entryway. My aunt Beatrice, is taller and stronger than my mom, with a deep yet still feminine voice. She lifts my sister up and exchanges little kisses with her on each cheek before putting her back down.

I can barely glance up at my aunt and cousin, who by now have clearly noticed my 'outfit'. My aunt bends down slightly, with a big smile on her face, and says "aren't you going to give your auntie-B a hug too Sebby? Come on over here won't you so I can give you a hug? No need to be embarrassed!"

I see both my aunt and cousin smile at me, but these are kind smiles, no malice or hint of mischief in them. So I slowly walk over and open my arms to give my aunt a hug. She hugs me back, but does not pick me up and we exchange kisses on the cheeks. "Don't mind if I don't lift you up like your little sister, but my back isn't what it used to be when I babysat you."

"Aren't you going to say hi to your aunt and cousin Seb?" my mom reminds me gently.

I briefly ponder how I am supposed to address my aunt in these circumstances; I usually just call her 'auntie-B' like my sister did, but I figure that my sister Margo's game requires girls to be addressed as 'Princess' and adult women to be addressed as 'Queen'. I finally say, very softly, "hello Queen Beatrice, hello Queen Janice."

Both my aunt and cousin let out a big laugh, which make me feel even more embarrassed, but my aunt quickly adds while giving my a playful hair-ruffling, "no need to be so shy, and no need to call me anything but 'auntie-B', you probably don't remember Sebby, but I've seen you tied-up before, even before your tie-up games with your cousins this past summer.

"Really?" I ask, curiosity being stronger in me than shyness.

"Yes, before I let Janice babysit you without me around, I would babysit you, when you were just under 5 years old. Once, I had gone up to my room for just a couple of minutes, and you had taken an extension cord to which one of the lamps in the living room was attached, and unplugged it from both ends. By the time I returned, you had tied your ankles together, and were worming your way all around the living room table on your two arms, dragging your bound legs behind you, and burning wholes into your socks against the carpet. Boy was I ever embarrassed explaining that to your mother! Probably more so than you are now!"

At that, all three women, my mother, my aunt and my cousin, giggle at the story. My cousin Janice then gives me a little hug and also exchanges kisses on the cheeks with me and says "I think you look adorable in my pink leotard and ballet shoes, they fit you perfectly."

I bow and now smile and say, "thank you Queen Janice," a bit more confident that this situation, which start of humiliating, was not going to be a nightmare after all.

Janice giggles further "I see that you are indeed playing along quite well with Princess Margaret's game, but you can just call me 'Janice', unless you really want to call me 'Queen Janice' while I babysit you."

Recalling the poise and confidence of the boy I briefly encountered at my sister's ballet school, I bow again and say "if I may your majesty, it would be my honour to address you as Queen Janice."

Once more, everyone laughs, including my sister who is giggling with glee, but I feel less embarrassed now as there is clearly no ill-intent in all this, just playful role-play. My aunt claps her hands and says "my what a well behaved gentle-boy we have here! I surely hope you've given up on using extension cords, Sebby, those are dangerous to use, and annoying to replace as they get distorted; they are not meant to be used as replacements for ropes or proper belts."

My aunt then turns towards her daughter Janice and says "I see that chap, Bertrand, that you met at one of those Psychology Department's parties, has paid off; he's done a great job helping you modify those old leather hospital restraints. Should allow my favourite little nephew here some safe tie-ups! But Anne and I must get going, now."

At that my mom puts on her outdoor flats, and takes her car keys out of her purse and gives them to Janice. "Here, we'll take your mom's car to the restaurant. Have these just in case. If you get tired, you can have a lie down in my bed."

"Thanks auntie-Anne. Bye mom, bye auntie-Anne," Janice says, "have fun!".

"Bye mom!" my sister exclaims.

"Bye, Queen Anne and Queen Beatrice," I say as I bow again, and this time try to curtsy in my ballet shoes.

My mom and my aunt both laugh as they step out and say bye, as Janice waves bye to them and finally closes the main door and locks it. Janice then proceeds to finally remove here shoes, which I only just notice are shiny black patent leather Mary Jane shoes, but with a small heel. She then takes out a pair of fuzzy pink slippers that she pulls on her feet. I can't help but notice how pretty my cousin Janice's feet are. Her three main toes on each foot are almost the same length with the toe right next to the big toe being just ever so slightly longer than its two neighbours. Her feet also have nice arches to them, neither too high nor too flat, and appear to be clad in white stockings or tights, opaque enough to hide any toe-nail polish if she has any on.

I hear Janice clear her throat and say "ahem, eyes up here. Ready for some tie-up games Sebby?" as my my sister adds "this will be fun!"

(To be continued in Part 8, where Sebby will have plenty of questions to ask of Janice as he comes to realize certain things, but will first have to endure the smell of both his sister's and his cousin's feet, and then get to spend the night tied to his bed ... )
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Post by Boytaped »

a great sequel. I think it's great how the whole family wants to keep Sebastian safe and support him in his wishes.

the distances between the parts and also the length are just right. so you can read the part relaxed.
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Post by milagros317 »

Great continuation! :D
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Post by tiedinbluetights »

Part 8---Tied-Up All Night Tuesday

Thanks all for your encouraging comments, and patience. This promised chapter is much longer than the previous ones, so I've included section headers.


--- Supper time chat ---

I couldn't believe my ears! Janice was going to tie me up! Finally! I vaguely remember the incident my mom referred to this past Saturday, the time 5 years ago, when I was only 6, and had apparently asked Janice while she babysat me to tie me up, tickle me, and 'force' me to smell her feet. My mom said Janice had refused back then, but that Janice had told her about the incident. What I do clearly remember is my 4th birthday when I wanted to be tied up and of all my cousins present, Janice was the very first person I had asked, but she refused. Now after all these years, another dream was about to come true!

"Cat bite your tongue again Sebby?" Janice followed up.

"No... I mean, ... please tie me up Queen Janice! Please tie me up!"

"Okay my little Sebby. You may not remember all the times you've asked me, but I do. I think I've learned enough during my years to be able to help you out, finally," she says with a smile not too different from my mother's own when communicating that she cares.

"I have an idea!" pipes in my sister Margaret, as she gets up on her tiptoes as tries to whisper something into Janice's right ear. Janie leans down a bit and her smile widens at Margo's suggestion.

"We do have to have supper first, so we could do that." Janice straightens up and turns to me "want to eat supper while tied up Seb, like this past Saturday?"

"Yes, please Queen Janice! Thank you Princess Margaret!"

"Why have you never tied-up Sebastian before?" asks my sister, daring to ask the question I was itching to ask myself. If we are playing by the same rules as on Saturday, I'm no longer allowed to initiate speech, only allowed to answer direct questions and always ending my responses with the 'proper' honorific. Although only my sister insists on the title of Princess, and Janice has said I need not call her a Queen, I do like this game: it makes me feel like I am in a world, even if just imaginary, where by being a boy or a man I owe obedience to girls and women, just like in my favourite TV show at the time!

My sister turns to me with a smile and winks at me, and says "remember peasant! You are not to speak unless asked direct questions, and you must always answer honestly and address me as Princess Margaret."

"I guess that's part of the game you played Saturday," Janice states. "In that case, to avoid multiple standards, you must address me as Queen Janice for the rest of the evening ... peasant!" she adds with a playful chuckle. "Now, as to your question, Princess Margaret, whenever I was left in charge of your ... of the peasant Sebastian here, his well being was my responsibility. Being a babysitter is a very serious job, and I didn't consider tying him up and doing the other things he asked of me as proper behaviour in that context. Now, let's go into the kitchen and get ready to eat."

My sister grabs one of my cuffed hands and leads me into the kitchen towards the same chair I was tied to last Saturday. The bag Janice left with my mother last Saturday is still by my mom's chair at the kitchen table. My sister briefly glances back at me and winks again, and then follows up with another question for Janice: "what changed your mind this time?"

"Well, it's no secret here that Seb has been tying himself up unsupervised and without approval, despite numerous warnings. He clearly enjoys it, and even when he believed he was being discrete, he wasn't." As my cousin Janice says all this we are already in the kitchen, and she starts to get dishes out to set the table. My sister ushers me into the chair and I sit down into it. Janice continues: "So it got me thinking about why some people enjoy things that apparently most people don't -- it's not the only reason but it is partially why I got into psychology at university -- and I discovered through my studies that there are plenty of people like Sebby, for whom it is almost like a need."

I wanted desperately to ask a follow up question myself, but my sister pressed one of her index fingers against my lips to remind me that I was not asked a direct question and cannot initiate speech in this little game. However, as if she could read my mind, she asked "so there are other boys like Sebby, that want and desire to be tied-up?"

"That's right, Princess Margaret. And not just boys; girls too. And not just wanting to be tied up but also wanting to tie-up. Your big brother is not alone in having ... these predilections. Even some adults have them, but for most, their desire to play tie-up games starts at a very young age, often before they are even mature enough to fully understand all the risks and be able to mitigate them properly. It can come about from playing Cowboys and Indians or Cops and Robbers. For most it is just play, and they grow out of it, but for some it becomes an important part of them. I've come to understand the Sebby here does not intend to harm anyone, let alone himself; it's like he needs to be tied-up every once in a while, and if we prevent him, he could end up playing these games by himself, or worse with complete strangers, unsupervised, under dangerous circumstances. So a few months ago, auntie Anne -- your mom -- and I started to plan a way to help Sebby here play these games, safely until such time he either grows out of it or becomes mature enough to properly mitigate the risks for himself.

As Janice says all this, she finishes setting the table and turns to both my sister and me and continues "now, before we tie up Sebby to the chair and feed him, I've got to make clear the same rules that your mother stated. As the person in charge and supervising this game, I can put an end to it any time. And you can stop playing too Margo, at any time. As for Sebby here, he too can just speak up out of character and just say he no longer wishes to play, in which case I will release him from those locked leather cuffs and belt, but then there is no more tie-up games for the rest of the evening. Understood?"

"Yes Queen Janice," my sister exclaims.

"What about you Sebastian, do you you understand?"

My mind is running wild with everything I just heard and learned. For starters, I'm not alone; there are others like me! When my mom says she does not consider me a freak, she does mean it then! The realization also dawns on me that I was not so much caught accidentally on Saturday as set-up to get caught doing what they already knew, and so poorly hid. A million questions started pouring through my head, but I didn't want the tie-up games to end for the night, not with the possibility of being tied-up all night! "Yes, I understand Queen Janice," I say finally and daringly add "please tie me up Queen Janice and Princess Margaret!"

Janice raises an eyebrow and smirks, "your mother did inform me of everything that transpired Saturday, and how much you can be a little fiend and push yourself to stay tied-up. I'm willing to bet that you wanted to earn some from of 'punishment' for breaking the rules of this game? You had already answered my question and then continued to speak unsolicited. Isn't that so Sebby?"

"Yes Queen Janice," I sheepishly answer.

"Well, there is not going to be a punishment for this one transgression peasant!" Janice says with a smirk, "but if you transgress again, I will take it to mean that the tie-up games are over for the rest of the night. Understood, peasant Sebastian?"

"I understand, Queen Janice," I answer.

"Good. Now let's get you comfortable, shall we?" Janice says with a smile.

"Can I tie-up his arms Queen Janice? I've been practising!" exclaims my sister.

"Please do Princess Margaret," Janice says and fetches a couple of white cotton ropes from the bag, handing them over to my sister.

My sister grabs the ropes and gingerly rushes back to where I sit. She is beaming with delight as she says "I get to play with you again, big brother, I mean peasant!" Margo asks me to place both my arms against the arm rests of the chair, palm down. She then grabs one rope and feeds it through the metal D ring of my left wrist cuff until she has two equal lengths of rope in either hand. Next, she ties a square knot, anchoring the rope to the wrist cuff, and then proceeds to wrap each end of the rope in criss-cross pattern around my arm and the chair's arm, down to my elbow, forming pink diamond like shapes along the left sleeve of my leotard, outlined by the white rope. At the elbow, she wraps both ends of the rope several times around tying off a knot under the chair's arm. Margo then proceeds to do the same with my right arm.

As my sister does all this, Janice turns up the oven to heat-up the food my mom had prepared and placed in the oven to keep warm. As my sister ties down my arms to the chair, she comments to Janice, "I don't like or want to be tied-up, but as for tying up others, if it gets Sebby to play more often with me, I think I might like it a lot! When Mike and Miri are over, Sebby won't have to let only them catch him to get tied up; he can allow me to catch him too!"

Janice comes over and inspects the binds along my arms. "That's very good Princess Margaret, I see you have indeed practised."

My sister beams with delight and asks Janice, "can I also tie his feet to the chair, Queen Janice?"

"Be my guest, Princess Margaret," and Janice hands her two more lengths of rope.

My sister then proceeds to tie each of my feet and legs to the front legs of the chair, similarly to the way she tied my arms, but this time forming black diamond patterns along my black tights clad lower legs. As my sister does all this Janice asks her "did anyone ever tie you up Margo when you didn't want to?"

"Nope," my sister answers matter-a-factly. "I've only ever played tie-up games if I was part of the team that does the tying, but my brother here never let himself be caught by me; he says my knots are too loose, looser than Miri's."

"That's reassuring to hear Margo. And I'm sure that Sebastian here now realizes that you have become better at tying knots."

"And making his binds inescapable as he begs Miranda to always do!" exclaims my sister. "What do you think of my ties and knots now peasant brother!"

"They are amazing, Princess Margaret!" I exclaim. They are indeed. My legs and arms are pinned to the chair, and there is no way for me to get at the knots and loosen them. I'm pinned to the chair for as long as anyone of us allows this game to continue.

"And what do we say?" asks Janice.

"Thank you Princess, Margaret! Thank you Queen Janice!"

"Should we also tie his waist belt and chest to the chair?" my sister asks Janice.

"No. The food is almost warm enough and he needs to be able to move enough his upper body enough to swallow food and water freely and safely," answers firmly my cousin.

"Makes sense," my sister claims. "Can I go get my dolly Molly? I like to feed Sebastian and have him say 'thank you' to Molly too."

"Okay, go ahead."

As my sister runs up to fetch her ballerina plushy doll, Janice lays out food for my sister and herself. "Margaret and I will eat a bit first, and then we will feed you. If we feed you while we eat too, all our food is going to get cold. I hope that's okay with you Sebastian?"

"Yes Queen Janice," I answer.

My sister returns to the table with her doll, which she places on the table next to my plate and says "keep an eye on our prisoner here, Princess Molly, while Queen Janice and I eat, won't you?" She makes her doll Molly nod yes enthusiastically and then proceeds to sit down next to Janice to eat.

As I watch both my sister Margo and my cousin Janice eat, they do there best to pretend to ignore me, as they strike up a little conversation.

"Queen Janice, may I ask you a question?"

"So long as it is between bites and not with a mouth full, you may Princess Margaret."

"Why did you not become a professional ballerina?"

"Well, Princess Margaret, I love dance, and ballet in particular, but getting a spot in a touring ballet company is highly competitive. I have too many other interests to be able to focus solely on ballet. I also enjoy helping people and I love studying psychology; I'm working towards becoming a clinical psychologist you know. Between working on my PhD, volunteering at the local hospital, and assisting the teachers at the local ballet school on Saturdays, I'd be completely burned out if I also competed for a spot in a touring ballet company!"

"I understand. So that means I should look for other interests as well, in case I can't get into a ballet company?"

"Well, you are still very young, only 8. It will be three years at least before you are even allowed to start training en pointe. You have plenty of time to figure out all your interests, Princess Margaret."

I observe my sister pondering what Janice just told her as they both continue to eat quietly. I feel ignored, but enjoy it, enjoy the feel of the binds pinning me to the chair. I dare not speak up, as I don't want the tie-up to end. After a few more bites and sips of water my sister asks Janice "is this Bertrand auntie-B mentioned your boyfriend?"

"Janice chuckles a bit and answers "oh dear no! He's not my type and I'm not his type. He's just a good friend. He comes by the psychology department to consult on occasion for some of his cases. He is a defence attorney and he occasionally asks some of the tenured professors to provide expert testimony."

"Do attorneys make leather restraints?" my sister asks.

"Oh dear no!" Janice laughs out. "Bertrand is also an avid fan of historical reenactment, and is part of a medieval reenactment society. This interest of his has made him quite the hobbyist leather-smith as well."

"I'm done eating, Queen Janice. May I start feeding our prisoner?"

"Sure thing, Princess Margaret."

My sister pulls her chair closer to mine where I'm pinned while Janice gets up to get food and water for me. "Small bites and sips, Princess Margaret," Janice reminds my sister.

My sister picks up her doll, and says "thank you Princess Molly for watching over our prisoner, he will thank us both for each bite of food we feed him and each sip of water."

Janice finishes plating my food and places a tall glass of water with a straw next to my plate. Janice then returns to finish off her own plate. Over the course of several minutes, my sister feeds me and offers me sips of water. After each bite of food, and after each sip of water, I dutifully state "thank you Princess Margaret. Thank you Princess Molly" to my sister's delight. This also occasional causes my cousin Janice to chuckle a bit. Once done my plate, Janice gets up and starts clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen, with my sister helping, once again pretend ignoring me as I notice Janice occasionally glancing back at me, probably making sure I am okay still tied to the chair, unable to release myself. As Janice finishes up packing the food away, my sister goes up to her room to store her doll Molly away.


--- Tickle torture chair ---

"You're a good boy Sebastian," Janice says, while my sister is still upstairs. "Your sister made it very clear that she does not like to get tied up earlier, but that she could enjoy tying you up if it meant you would play with her more often. Respect her wishes Sebastian, be a good big brother to her, and you'll have a loving younger sister who will always be your friend. I was an only child, never got to have a younger sister or brother; you are fortunate to have a sibling who wants to spend time with you."

I sense sadness in Janice's voice, but we are still playing this game of me not being allowed to speak unless asked a direct question, which I can only answer directly and honestly lest the tie-ups end for the rest of the evening. So instead I just stare into my cousin's eyes and nod yes.

Janice playfully ruffles my hair a bit and smiles. "I'm sorry Sebby, I shouldn't burden you with my own issues. If you would like to say something before your sister returns, you may speak freely."

"No burden Queen Janice, I like listening to you, and I do promise to play more with my sister, and even help her with her homework. I promise to be a better brother to her than I have been so far."

We both hear my sister come back downstairs and enter the kitchen. "Can we torture Sebby now with my stinky feet!" exclaims Margo.

"Well, we only just finished up supper. We should let the food settle a bit first, Princess Margaret" Janice wisely remarks. "Still comfy all pinned down to the chair, Sebby?"

"Yes Queen Janice. Thank you Queen Janice," I respond.

"Would you like me to teach you how to win against your brother at backgammon, Princess Margaret?"

"Yes please, Queen Janice!" my sister exclaims.

Janice fetches our backgammon table from the games drawer and sets it up in front of me on the kitchen table, and pulls her chair and my sisters closer. She then proceeds to explain to my sister some basic rules of the game and why for someone like me who also likes math would enjoy the game. She also provides a few basic principles of probability and statistics at a level my sister can understand with a few dice rolls as an example. Finally, Janice explains "okay, now. We shall make the game a bit interesting. Since Sebby cannot roll the dice and move his pieces, I will roll for him and he just has to tell me how to move his pieces by saying 'would you please ... Queen Janice' and I will do as kindly asked. Once someone wins by bearing off all their pieces, we count the pieces left on the board. Regardless of who wins, Sebby then gets tickle tortured by us while still tied to his chair, one whole minute per piece left on the board. After that we take a little break and we can then finally fulfill another wish of Sebby here and tie him to his bed for the night."

"And make him smell our stinky feet!" pipes in my sister.

"For a little while, if you so wish Princess Margaret," smirks my cousin and she glances at me and gives a little wink. "We've been keeping our feet smelly for him in our warm fuzzy slippers!"

"Yes, and while he is forced to smell our feet, I will tell him what Lucille and I talked about at school earlier," adds Margo.

Janice smiles kindly again at me, but also playfully pinches my right cheek and says "Lucille, that's the girl you have a crush on at school, isn't it Sebby? Remember, you must answer directly and honestly, with proper honorifics."

I turn beet-red in the face again, but answer "yes, Queen Janice."

"There's no shame in that Sebby. Okay let's play!" Janice concludes. As we play, I realize my bladder is getting full again. Still, I want to be tickled, but I also don't want to pee myself even though I have a diaper on. I suspect if I wet my diaper now, there would be no tie-up to the bed later. I figure I can take about five minutes of continuous tickling so I try to play the odds to either loose or win by 5 pieces. I dutifully say "would you please ... Queen Janice," after everyone of the dice rolls Janice makes on my behalf. As for my sister, she rolls her own dice and moves her own pieces, but she also obviously takes pointers and cues from my cousin with each play. After about 20 minutes, the game nears its end and my sister-cousin duo is definitely going to win: Margo has only two pieces left and no matter what she rolls, those two pieces will bear off. I have seven pieces left, and it is my roll, with four pieces stacked on column 24 and three on column 23.

Janice rolls for me snake-eyes, which means I can bear-off all four of my pieces staked on column 24. This is a disappointing roll for me as I would end up with only 3 minutes of tickle torture, and I have so longed to have Janice tickle me! Nevertheless, I don't want to come across as deliberately trying to loose by too much, so I say the optimum move "would you please bear off all four of my pieces on column 24, Queen Janice."

Janice turns to me and winks at me, and the says "okay, my sweet little prisoner, I will do as asked and move the three pieces from column 23 to 24, and bear off one."

That's not what I had asked. Part of me wants to protest, but that would put an end to all tie-ups for the evening. I feel a mix of emotions, as I feel cheated, but at the same time infinitely grateful that I get to be tickled for 6 minutes non-stop! And for the first time by Janice! All I have to do is concentrate fully on not peeing into my diapers so more tie-up fun can be had.

"That's six minutes of tickle torture for my poor brother!" my sister exclaims while giggling with delight.

"I'm pretty sure Sebby here, is delighted as well, isn't that so my little sweet prisoner?"

"Yes Queen Janice! Thank you Queen Janice!"

"I though so," says Janice as she puts the game away back into the games drawer. "Supper should have settle by now, would you like to be tied up a bit more tightly before we proceed with the tickles?"

"Yes please Queen Janice."

Janice takes another rope from her bag and hands it to my sister. Margo proceeds to loop the rope through two of the D rings in my waist belt on either side of my waist, but with the rope also passing behind the chair's vertical slats. I feel her put one of her feet on the back of the chair and pull with all her strength, tightly pinning my waist to the chair before I hear her from behind breathing heavily as she ties off a knot. WIth plenty of rope length still left, Margo proceeds to tie a few loops around my upper chest to the vertical slats, just under my arms, and knots that off tightly too. "Tighter than Miri!" my sister exclaims.

"I sense some rivalry with Miranda there, Princess Margaret."

"That's because every summer, Sebby wants to play with Mike and Miri more than with me, but Sebby has promised to play more with me. I want to show him I can be as good if not better at tying him up!"

"I can see that. Now, will our sweet little prisoner giggle loudly and inanely for the six whole minutes? Can he keep quite or shall we gag him?"

"Let's gag him!" my sister exclaims.

"What about you Sebastian, do you want to be gagged, or can you keep quite?" asks Janice.

"Please, I want to be gagged Queen Janice!" I exclaim.

"Alright, any last request before we tape you mouth shut prisoner?" Janice asks me with a wry smile.

"What does it really mean to put a sock in it, Queen Janice?"

At that, both Janice and my sister burst out laughing! After a few seconds, Janice asks "where did you hear that expression, and why do you ask?"

"Lucille at school told me to do so during math class, because I answer too many questions, Queen Janice. She also said it meant to keep quiet, but I don't understand why a sock and where, Queen Janice."

"Janice holds back further chuckles and answers, matter-a factly "well, I'm not sure about the exact origins myself, but imagine a person talking loudly, and then imagine the same person trying to talk loudly with their mouth filled with a big sock." She pauses for a few seconds and adds "but don't you go getting ideas now, your mother clearly has warned you about stuffing your mouth. Understood?"

"Yes Queen Janice." I say sheepishly, but now start wondering just what a sock in my mouth would taste like. Would it be worse than just its smell? I wonder if I can bring this topic up again and perhaps convince my kind 'captors' at some point in the future to let me try.

"Shall we?" Janice says and brings me out of my daydreaming. I nod yes.

Janice then proceeds to grab some silver duct tape from the knickknack drawer and starts to tape up my mouth, not-stuffed, of course, with several passes around my head, just as my mom did on Saturday.

"Now, I'm going to remove my ... I mean your cute pink ballet slippers from your feet; your mother tells me you are very ticklish there and I can tell you've been wishing for this day for a long time. I will tickle the soles of your feet while your sister, Princess Margaret, tickles your ribs and arm pits. If you want us to stop anytime before the six minutes are up, either close your eyes and keep them shut, or bang the back of your head against the chair twice. If you make it through the whole six minutes, we can continue playing tie up games, but if you signal out, all tie ups for the rest of the evening stop. Do you understand Sebby?" I nod yes.

"Good, and I will be monitoring your breathing as well, and can put an end to this at anytime. Let's get into position Princess Margaret!"

At that, my cousin Janice pulls my chair with me pinned to it away from the table, so she can sit down cross-legged on the kitchen floor in front of me. My sister Margo goes to stand behind the chair and I can feel her little hands close to my ribs on either side, reaching through the wide gaps between the set of vertical slats and the arms of the chair. Janice slowly removes my ballet slippers, turns to look at the stove-top clock, and at the right moment says "go!"

My sister starts to furiously and mercilessly tickle my ribs and armpits, in random patterns. I jerk against my bonds, but am careful not to bang my head against the chair or shut my eyes. However, what I find most intense is not my sister's tickling with her little fingers. Janice, tall as she is, with long arms, can comfortably stare into my eyes as she slowly and gently circles with her long fingers the arched soles of my feet clad in black tights. It feels like electricity running up my legs, but I can't move my feet away, as my legs are completely pinned to the chair. I start to breath very fast and loudly through my nose, but Janice never lets go of her focus on my eyes, and I can sense that she not only is paying close attention to my breathing but is also counting time in her head!

Unable to move much, given how tightly my sister tied my torso to the chair, the tickling feels very intense. My bladder is feeling full, and while the tap gag does muffle somewhat my uncontrolled giggles and laughter, I can't help but wonder how much better the muffling would be if I had indeed a sock in it. As I try to trash about, pinned tightly to the chair, simultaneously frustrated and oh so pleasantly delighted at being unable to escape the tickles, Janice, still focused intently on my eyes, asks "want this to stop?" I shake my head no, keeping my eyes open.

Only then does Janice quickly glance at the stove-top clock, and faces me again with a wry smile and says "four more minutes! Are you sure you don't want us to stop? Nod yes if you want us to continue." I wonder if indeed I can take four more minutes of this, but as I feel my sister's little fingers slowing down, and Janice stop circling her long fingers around the soles of my feet, I nod yes once, pause, and nod again once to make sure that Janice and Margo both saw my response.

Janice resumes tickling my feet, but this time she does quick random pokes all around my feet, soles and tops. This, ironically, feels less intense than the slow circling she did before, and I think I can indeed last the just under four minutes still left to earn more tie-ups for the night.

Meanwhile, Margo resumes her furious ticking of my ribs and armpits. I hear Margo giggle with glee. At some point I can sense her lean in behind my right ear. She whispers into it "I'm so glad I get to tie you up and tickle you! Big brother. You should ask me more often, and not Miri!" At her mentioning the name of my cousin Miranda again (daughter of uncle Gaston, my mother's and auntie-B's young brother), Margo's tickling stops, and she instead manages to find my nipples through the pink leotard I'm wearing, and twists them both sharply. I wince as my eyes tear-up and I jerk strongly against my bonds making the chair creek.

Janice instantly stops her tickles and jumps up, to brush my sister's hands away, and angrily shouts "stop that, Margo!"

"I'm sorry!" Margo cries out and runs away up to her room.

"I'm so sorry that just happened Sebby!" Janice exclaims. "We've all agreed that we would try to make your tie-up fantasies a safe reality; tickling only your feet, knees, ribs, and armpits; and occasionally gagging you and 'making' you smell our feet and shoes. But that's it. No pinching, punching, twisting, slapping or any other form of corporal punishment. Let me get you out of that gag and binds."

Janice quickly undoes all the ties about the chair and throws the ropes into her bag. She then slowly removes my tap gag, as my eyes well with tears which start to run down my cheeks. Janice gently pats my head and tries to wipe my tears away with one hand as she gently removes the tape with the other. When she finally removes the last strip, I blurt out "please don't be mad at Margo!"

"What?"

I get up from the chair and hug Janice. Then I look up to her and say again "please don't get mad at Margo! It's not her fault!"

"What do you mean?"


--- Quickly forgiven ---

My tears have stopped. I clear my throat and explain. "I've been a bad brother to my little sister. During the school year I mostly ignore her, and over the summer vacation and school holidays, I'd rather play with Mike and Miranda when they come over. I've promised to play with my sister more often, and I've started to help her with homework, but it's only been a couple of days. It's my fault she grew jealous of Miri. I guess it will take some time before she forgives me. Please don't punish my sister. I do love her and want her to be happy. I promise to pay more attention to her and play with her and help her. Please Janice! Please don't get Margo into trouble! If someone needs to be punished it is me!" I feel my eyes tear up again.

"You're an out of the ordinary, in a good way, little boy. Most boys your age would have revelled at the chance to get their sibling into trouble. Yet here you are blaming yourself and wanting to take punishment. No one is going to get punished. I'll chalk all this up to a misunderstanding of the rules. Okay?"

"Yes Queen Janice," I say.

At that, Janice chuckles and gives me a sisterly hug and a little peck on the forehead. I do so wish that Janice had been my older sister, but I do really care about my little sister too, and wouldn't wish her any pain. I genuinely did believe that I could have been a better brother to Margo. It wasn't a question of 'making do' with what I had, but being instead truly appreciative and learning to treasure what I actually did have: a loving and caring family, including my little sister.

Janice looks down and smiles at me, saying "you don't have to keep calling me Queen Janice. We can stop playing for the night."

"Oh no! Please Queen Janice! That would be the worst punishment of all! I was so looking forward to being tied-up all night! Please don't end this!" and again I start tearing up.

"Are you sure Sebby?"

"Yes! Please, I want to be tied up in bed, I saw what is strapped around my mattress and I'm curious what you had planned with mom to finally allow me to sleep tied-up safely! And I want to be 'forced' to smell Margo's stinky feet so she can tell me what she and Lucille were talking about! Pleeeeaaaase Queen Janice!"

"Okay, okay, please calm down," Janice begs me. "I guess you've earned it, silly, but sweet, little Sebby. But first things first. While I think that was closer to the three minutes of tickle torture you truly earned -- and I'm sorry I pretended you said something else to what you actually asked me to play -- I'm pretty sure you must really need to pee badly, if you haven't already wet yourself in your diaper, which would have put an end to our games, but I now promise you does not end the games."

With that said, Janice goes to her big bag she gave my mom last Saturday and pulls out another clean diaper in my size in one hand and a small key in the other. With the key, she unlocks my wrist and ankle cuffs as well as the waist belt and takes them all off. She then hands me the clean diaper. "There you go. If you want it so badly, I'll reapply the locking cuffs and belts in your room once you've freshened up in the bathroom upstairs and changed diapers. In the meantime, I'll try to see how your sister is doing and smooth things over with her; don't worry little Sebby, I won't punish her and she won't get into trouble. Okay?"

"Thank you Queen Janice! No need to be sorry for what you did during the backgammon game! I enjoyed that! It was amazing! And the way you tickled me was amazing too! Too bad it didn't last all six minutes."

"Ah sweet little Sebby," Janice laughs. "I doubt you could have lasted that long; it was cruel of me to trick you into longer than three minutes. But it turned out to be only that long after all. Now off you go! We'll meet up in your room once you've cleaned up."

I pull on my ballet slippers back onto my feet and go off to the upstairs bathroom. As I pass Margo's room, her door closed, I can hear my poor little sister sobbing in her room. I ache to knock on her door and say that all is okay, all is forgiven, but as I hear Janice coming up the stairs, I stick to Janice's instructions.

Once in the bathroom, I unzip my leotard and pull it down and off. I also pull off my tights. Surprisingly, I didn't sweat much into them. As for the diaper I was wearing, it's not peed into, which I figured given that my bladder still feels very full and about to burst, but I'm glad to be able to put a clean one on anyway, after properly using the toilet myself and cleaning up. I get dressed back up in my black tights and shiny pink leotard, and head back to my room leaving the older sweated into, but otherwise unsoiled, diaper in the waste bin (they were the disposable type).

By the time I reach my room, my Janice and my sister are already in my room, Janice sitting at my desk with the chair facing my bed chatting with my sister, and my sister sitting on my bed facing Janice. My sister's eyes are a bit red, probably from crying and thinking she got herself into trouble. As I enter, my sister rushes up to me and gives me a tight hug! "Thank you Sebby, I love you too!" Margo stands up on her tip toes and gives me a sisterly kiss on both my cheeks. "I'm so sorry I did that, I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise never to give you a purple nurple; I'm not one of those mean bullies from school."

"It's alright, Princess Margaret," I say. "I know you're not one of those mean bullies, you're my sweet little sister and my Princess Margaret!"

Margo let's go of her tight hug and rubs her eyes, adding "you don't have to call me Princess Margaret if you don't want to."

"If it so pleases you, but we play tie up games or any other game you'd like me to play with you, I really don't mind, sweet little sister. May I keep calling you Princess Margaret, if you so wish Princess Margaret?"

Margo finally allows herself a little smile and says "okay, you can call me Princess Margaret, but I won't get mad if you call me just Margo."

Janice stands up and says "let's agree then that this was all a big misunderstanding. No more purple nurples. And as for Queen and Princess so-and-so, let's agree that if Sebastian says the honorifics, he is in character as our prisoner to be 'tortured', but if he doesn't say the honorifics, he is talking to us normally, out-of-play, but with no threat to end the game if we all agree that the game can continue. Deal?"

"Deal!" Margo exclaims, but I stay quite and actually wryly bite the corner of my lips.

Janice raises one eyebrow, just like one of my favourite fictional characters on TV does, and says "what's the matter Sebby?"

"Well ... ah ... I'm ... I'm not sure how ... how to say this," and I blush beet-red again.

"Say what?" Margo asks.

"I ..., please don't get mad at me, but ... but I kind of ... enjoyed that specific purple nurple."

Now Margo raises one eyebrow! Janice's eyebrows, however, turn into a serious frown and asks "do you also enjoy being hurt?"

"No, no! It's not like that. I mean, yeah, it hurt a bit earlier, but it's not like the school yard bullies. Not that they were ever able to catch me, but my best friend Sam once punched out a kid because that kid gave him a purple nurple. Sam told me it hurt so he hurt the kid back. What Margo did was not like what those mean kids do. It was different, a bit painful, but not in a bad way like when I bang my toes or my funny bone accidentally against something. There was something ... interesting about it."

"Hmm. I see," Janice says followed by a long pause. "That is not unheard of; I'll have to discuss this with you mother, Sebby. But for tonight, there is no question of further purple nurple nonsense, or anything else outside of perhaps some light tickling and smelly feet while you're tied to your bed. Deal?"

"Yes Queen Janice."

"Good. May I lock the cuffs and belt back on you?"

"Yes please Queen Janice!"

Janice proceeds to lock the ankle and wrist cuffs back on, and locks the waist belt as well, but just one notch looser than before, much to my chagrin, but I don't complain, feeling that tie-ups for the rest of the night might precariously be stopped short. "There, loose enough to be comfortable overnight, if you so wish, but not so loose that you won't feel like you're somewhat restricted. It's approaching both your bed times soon, and Margo still has to properly wash up; she's been keeping her feet smelly for you all this time."

As Janice says this, my sister finally starts to smile mischievously again; the mischievous smile I'll come to eventually associated with fun smelly feet time, even though I don't really like the smell of my sister's feet. "Janice told me that I should tell you what Lucille and I talked about during recess today, without forcing you to smell our feet, given what happened downstairs."

"Please Princess Margo! Please Queen Janice! I've been so looking forward to be 'forced' to smell your feet!"


--- Sweet sweaty feet and dreams ---

"My my, okay then," says Janice. "I guess you would want to be taped gagged too again?"

I nod yes vigorously, "yes please Queen Janice!"

Janice sighs a bit, but pulls down my bed sheets towards the foot-board, revealing what I already knew was there: three wide than leather straps, with holes along the central length, belted around my mattress at various positions along its length. "Take off your ballet slippers and hop on into your bed. Lay down on your back, and let me show you how you might spend the whole night if you so wish."

I take off my pink ballet slippers, hop onto my bed, and lay down on my bed as instructed. Pillows have been propped so my head, neck and upper back can stay comfortably angled up from my waist and rest of my body that lies flat with the mattress. Janice walks over to the foot of my bed where on the floor she had brought up and placed her large bag she had left with my mom last Saturday. From that bag, she pulls out what appears to be six white plastic straps, each about 20 cm long, but just a few millimetres wide.

"These are called zip ties or cable ties, Sebastian," Janice explains. "They can be used to fasten objects together, usually a bunch of cables in order to keep them organized, and once so, must be cut to be removed. In our case, we can pass each one through one of the holes in these straps and then wrap it around one of the metal D rings in either your cuffs or waist belt. Place your feet comfortably apart and let your arms fall loose on either side of you, towards the foot-board, and I'll show both Margo and you how they work."

I comply and Janice proceeds to thread one of the zip ties through one of the holes in the strap by my ankles. She then threads it through the nearest D ring of my left ankle cuff and finally pulls it through the head of the zip tie, pulling the whole setup tight, but not so tight that I can't have a bit of freedom turning my left leg and foot. The plastic makes a funny 'zip' sound as it is pulled tight.

"What do you think?" Janice asks.

"Sounds funny!" Margo exclaims.

"Yeah," I agree.

"Shall I proceed?" Janice asks.

"Yes please, Queen Janice," I respond.

Janice proceeds to bind down my right ankle cuff too. She then proceeds to do the same my waist belt, two zip ties, one each through a D-ring on either side of my waist belt, bond to the leather strap closet to the head-board. To the leather strap between the other two, where my wrists rest, she uses the remaining two zip ties to bind my wrist cuffs to that strap, on either side of my torso. Once done, Janice asks me to test it out to see how much I can move. I can bend my knees and elbows comfortably, and even turn a bit to either side, but not much. The binds allow me to shift position a bit so as not to be forced to always stay in exactly the same position.

"He can move much more than when he was tied to the chair," my sister comments.

"That's by design. It is not good not to be able to move at all for any extended period of time. Sebby here used to tie himself up some nights, dangerously so with those old discarded extension cables. Now, with this setup, he can shift his position more easily, with no danger of any ropes getting tighter or accidentally wrapping around unwanted areas. Plus, it is inescapable as Sebby has wished for so long. He can't get free just by himself. Someone watching over him has to unlock his cuffs with a key or cut the cable ties with safety scissors."

"Will I be able to have a key?" Margo asks.

"Not right away, Margo. You will each eventually get a key, Sebby included. But you must each prove to your mother that you won't only just play tie-up games and that when you do play tie-up games, you will always do so while supervised in some way, with safety as your primary concern. Understood?"

"Yes Janice" both my sister and I answer.

"So. How does it feel Sebby?" Janice follows-up.

"It feels amazing! I feel safe and glad. Thank you Queen Janice!" I respond.

"Safe? Interesting. Is that why you would secretly tie yourself up some nights? To feel ... safe?"

"Yes, I don't know why, it just made me feel better those nights" I respond. "Can I please be gagged and made to smell your feet before it gets too late Princess Margo and Queen Janice?"

Both my sister and my cousin let out a playful chuckle at what I just said. My sister then says "can I please gag him with the tape, I saw both you and mom do it, I think I can do it now."

"Please go ahead Princess Margaret," Janice says approvingly.

My sister grabs the roll of duct tape from the bag and comes around to my left side where Janice has now sat back down on the chair by my desk. "Please lift up you head Sebby," my sister asks kindly.

I comply, and my sister, with some effort, starts to wrap layers of tape around my mouth and behind my head in the same criss-cross pattern that my mom and Janice have used, patting each pass down, but not as tightly as either of them have. I'm not going to complain, however, wanting my sister to practice and improve and not get discouraged by my criticism. Once satisfied with her work, my sister manages with some effort to tear the rest of the roll away. "I'll go get my desk chair," my sister exclaims.

"Go ahead," Janice responds. My sister runs off, and Janice gets up and pulls my desk chair closer to the left side of my bed and sits back down. My sister comes back, lumbering a bit with her own small desk chair, which she drags over to the right side of my bed, and places it close to my head level and sits down. Having shorter legs than Janice, Margo's chair is considerably closer to my bed than Janice's.

"Ready for some smelly feet torment Sebby?" Janice asks.

I've been dreaming of this moment for years. No longer do I need to sneak a sniff of Janice's shoes when I think she is not looking. She is about to truly make me smell her feet! For that privilege, I'd endure hours of smelling my sister's. I nod yes, and if I had not been tap gagged, a beaming smile would have been shining on my face.

I hear both Margo's and Janice's slippers being removed and dropping to the floor. Janice is first to place her white stocking clad feet close to my face by my left cheek. Her pretty feet feel very warm so close to my face and I immediately smell a familiar yet much stronger scent than from her shoes: vinegary and cheesy at the same time.

My sister follows a few seconds later, placing her white knee-high cotton socks near my right cheek. My sister's feet don't give off as much heat, but the smell is much stronger than Janice's and just as bad as I remember it initially from last Saturday night: Margo's signature rotting mushy pea scent combined with a strong cheesy smell.

I can easily turn my head from one pair of feet towards the other. Finding Janice's foot odour more pleasant, I turn my head towards her feet more often, as I also struggle against my bonds trying to lower or raise my head away from the feet, to no avail, luckily!

"Sebby is smelling your feet more often than mine," Margo comments.

"We can fix that," Janice replies. As Janice says that, she presses both her feet against my left cheek, forcing my face and nose to turn into my sister's feet by my right. I try to hold my own breath, but need to breath so my nostrils become constantly assailed by my sister's foul foot odour, with the occasional whiff of Janice's sweeter foot odour as well. Despite the torment, I feel like this must be heaven for a boy like me who loves to be tied up and made to smell girls' feet. A hellishly divine torment!

I hear my sister yawn and say, "I guess I better tell Sebby here what Lucille and I talked about earlier today during recess."

"I'm curious about that too," replies Janice. "What did the two of you really talk about?" Janice releases the pressure she applied with her feet to my left cheek, allowing me to turn my head freely, which I immediately do by turning away from my sister's feet towards Janice's for a few seconds.

"Well, at first Lucille said she'd like to get to know me better, perhaps even become a friend, since we are both interested in ballet. I asked her why and that's when she said that she thinks she likes Sebby here, but would like to know if he is a good brother to me, if he is a good boy or a bad boy in how he treats his sister and other girls." As my sister says all this, I'm trying to keep my nose away from both pairs of feet but can only alternate side to side, always spending a bit more time inhaling Janice's foot odour over Margo's.

"And what did you say?" Janice asks, reapplying the pressure with her feet, forcing me once again to face only Margo's feet and their putrid mushy pea scent and strong cheese scent. I'm in heaven!

"I told her the truth," Margo says, which makes me tug against my bonds a bit. "I told her that Sebby and I get along most of the time, but we don't have the same interests; I like playing with dolls and doll houses, while he likes to watch silly TV shows, and paint models, and read comic books."

"That's all?" Janice asks, but she maintains the pressure, allowing me only the occasional whiff of her feet, the scent of which is strongly overpowered by my sister's.

"Well, I did tell Lucille that Sebby did used to tease me about my smelly feet up until recently, but just about my smelly feet, nothing else; otherwise he stands up for me and whenever there was trouble at home he would take the blame for me."

"Really?" Janice asks, this time releasing the pressure, once again allowing my head to turn freely. "Do you have an example?"

"Yeah, I told Lucille about the time last year when Sebby and I were horsing around the kitchen table, and I accidentally bumped into it, knocking over our mom's favourite vase, which rolled down and crashed to the floor. I started crying and mom ran down the stairs into the kitchen to see what had happened. I was scared and said that Sebby had pushed me into the table, which was not true. But when asked by mom, Sebby immediately took the blame, saying that it was indeed he who accidentally pushed me into the table. Sebby got grounded, no TV, no comic books, for an entire month for something that was not his fault."

Once more, I'm free to alternate from one pair of feet to the other, but always spending a bit more time towards Janice's. I remember clearly the incident my sister is relating to Janice, and while I didn't like being grounded for something I didn't do, I still felt some responsibility. If had not agreed to having my sister run around the table after me in a 'catch me if you can' game, that vase would still be intact. I also hated seeing my sister cry, and preferred to see her smile. Teasing her about her smelly feet didn't used to make her cry, but just angry enough for her to run after me with one slipper in hand trying to make me smell it. That usually ended in silly giggles for both of us, not a regrettable broken vase that was a gift from grandparents long gone.

"I remember your mom telling me about that incident," Janice responds. Janice playfully rubs her feet against each other, releasing more of their scent that I pleasantly catch deep whiffs of. "That vase meant a lot to her. Did you tell your mother the truth eventually."

"Yes, near Christmas, a few months later," Margo says. I turn towards Margo and can see her give me a wink before my view is blocked by her sock clad feet as she presses them onto my nose, forcing me to inhale strong whiffs of her foot stink. Margo adds, "Sebby has always claimed it was his fault, even to this day, but that Christmas he got double the comic books as a gift."

I hadn't realized that my mom had eventually learned the truth of that incident! Wanting to thank my sister, as I face her feet I inhale deeply with each breath, despite how strong and unpleasant -- pleasantly unpleasant -- each whiff of Margo's stinky feet and socks are.

My sister giggles and says "that tickles a bit! But I like it Sebby! Please take big whiffs!" I comply.

"So you've essentially told Lucille that Sebby here is not a bad brother?" Janice asks.

"I actually said that he is a very good brother, and that he even apologized recently for not playing more with me and helping me with my homework, and that he had promised to stop teasing me about my smelly feet because I didn't like it."

I return to turning my head from side to side, hoping to be able to catch more whiffs of Janice's feet.

"Did Lucille ask why?" Janice asks. In answer to my wishes, she too now pushes her feet onto my nose. I'm delighted, as the smell of Janice's feet reminds me a bit of my mom's. Once more I take deep inhales. "You're right Margo! It does tickle a bit between the toes, but it's not unpleasant!"

"Lucille did ask why, but I lied and said I didn't know why, that Sebby was a good enough brother, but perhaps wanted to become an even better brother." As my sister says this she yawns again. "I'm getting very tired," she adds.

"That's all understandable," Janice says matter-a-factly. "Anything else before we get you off to bed Margo?" Janice stops pressing her feet against my nose allowing me once more to alternate side to side between her feet and Margo's.

"Not really. That's when the conversation shifted to dance and if there was any chance of convincing Sebby to join up in our ballet class on Saturdays. I said there was no chance, but that I might be wrong. Morning recess ended and when afternoon recess came around, Lucille was running after Sebby here in a cops and robber game."

"Well, I'll have to hear about that second recess an other time. Care to give Sebby here a double stinky foot torment before going off to bed?"

"Yeah!" Margo exclaims.

At that, Janice and Margo each press one of their feet onto my nose, one by each nostril. I take deep inhales and exhales, enjoying every second of the mixture of vinegar, cheese and mushy pea scents. Another wish come true!

After a few seconds, both Janice and Margo pull their feet away, and Margo stands up and drags her little chair back into her room. Janice gets up, returns the chair she sat on to my desk, and then proceeds to carefully remove my tap gag. "Thirsty?" she asks.

"Yes," I respond with a dry throat.

"I'll get you a small glass of water with a straw." Janice heads downstairs to the kitchen as Margo returns to my room with some folded pyjamas under one arm. She walks up to me and gives me a little sisterly kiss on my forehead, the one spot on my face where her feet and Janice's didn't touch me. She wrinkles her nose a bit, and smiles at me. "I don't like doctors, but perhaps I should let mom take me to see a foot doctor; after all, if I want to become a professional dancer I need to take care of my feet. Thank you Sebastian, for getting me out of trouble every time. Why do you do it?"

"What are big brothers for?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to always take all the blame away from me."

"I hate seeing you get into trouble. Thank you Margo, Princess Margaret." I try to lean closer to give my sister a little brotherly kiss in return. She leans in with her right cheek and I manage to give her a little kiss there. "Goodnight Princess Margaret," I say.

"Goodnight ... Captain Sebastian of my Royal Guard." Margo turns to head to the upstairs bathroom. Janice is already standing by my bedroom door, a small glass of water in one hand and a damp washcloth in the other.

"Go on ahead, I'll help you wash up, once I've given Sebby a little water and cleaned up his face" says Janice.

My sister leaves my room and I hear the bathwater start to run. Janice walks up to me, and wipes down my cheeks, chin, mouth and nose with the warm damp washcloth. Next, she helps me prop-up my head a bit more and brings the small glass of water with a straw by my mouth.

"Slow and small sips, and not too much, Sebby. If you drink too much, you will need to empty your bladder in the middle of the night. You have a diaper on in case of accidents, but I'm pretty sure you'd like to avoid that."

I do as instructed and after four small sips say "thank you Queen Janice, I'm fine now."

Janice smiles at me and gives me a little playful ruffle of my hair. "Remember, you can't get free on your own, so don't struggle in vain if you want to be released. I'll be within earshot, so if anything happens, don't hesitate to shout-out for help. I'll be able to release you quickly. When I've tucked your sister in, I'll come back here and do some studying at your desk, so the lights will stay on for a while. Do you want a blindfold on?"

"Yes please, I'm getting tired too."

Janice gets the blue blindfold from the bag, the same one my mom had used on me Saturday night. She gently places the soft cushioned blindfold over my eyes, with the elastic strap around my head. I can still see a tiny bit of light bleed through the soft edges of the blindfold, but if I close my eyes it is no bother. "When I get tired myself, if our mothers have not returned by then, I will retire to your mom's bed, but I'll keep both bedroom doors open. Even in the middle of the night, just shout-out if you need release. Understood?"

"Understood!" I say.

I feel Janice give me a little kiss on the forehead, and she walks off towards the bathroom where the bathwater has stopped. Shortly after, I hear my sister and Janice talking, too low for me to make out what they are saying at this distance, but reassured to catch the occasional giggle and chuckle, indicating that all is good. I feel myself dozing off.

(To be continued in Part 9, Sleeping In Tights ... No Bed Bugs Bite!)
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GermanTUGFriend wrote: 1 year ago @tiedinbluetights

What an amazing work !! I love to see and read your story with great enjoyment, it's written so well and fine ! I like it very much to follow Sebby on his way wearing tights, long sleeve leotards, ballet shoes and other girly clothing. And the bondage and tie ups are really great, too. Using rope, duct tape, socks and more things make it very enjoyable to read your stories :) :)

So I'm really excited what will happen in the next chapter and what Janice has in store for Tuesday evening ;) Maybe a matching nail polish as a reminder of the event ? (Only for the toenails I think, because Sebby has school the next day....maybe on a following weekend his fingernails will get some polish, too....)

So keep up the great and amazing work !! :) :)
Hello [mention]GermanTUGFriend[/mention] ! I hope the most recent (and long) part doen't disappoint even though there is no nail polish ... yet. Since I do like waering nail polsih myself, and Seb is me, some 40 some years ago, and I did wish to be dolled-up by my female cousins, it will happen, eventaully, in this sotry. I just can't promise when exactly!
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Post by tiedinbluetights »

Boytaped wrote: 1 year ago a great sequel. I think it's great how the whole family wants to keep Sebastian safe and support him in his wishes.

the distances between the parts and also the length are just right. so you can read the part relaxed.
Thanks for the comment! My latest part is much longer. Hopefully, the section breaks will make it a bit more manageable.
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Part 9---Sleeping In Tights ... No Bed Bugs Bite!

---
"... Captain Sebastian of my Royal Guard, you have betrayed me and my Queendom; for that I sentence you to be chained permanently to the floor of my castle's laundry chambers, where you will be buried under mounting piles of our court ladies' stinky stockings and tights!" declares my sister Margaret, looking much older than a little sister should, sitting on a golden throne, a golden crown with shinny diamonds atop her jet-black hair. I try to speak-up in defence, but find myself unable to utter a word. Without knowledge of how or why, I find myself in the next instant bound in chains and gagged by some unseen contraption, pinned to a cold and hard stone floor. Warm stockings and tights start to fall over my legs and move up towards my waist as I hear a distant disembodied voice, sounding like my cousin Janice, say "Sebby? Are you awake?"

Just as the piling mound of soiled stockings and tights reaches just under my neck, everything goes dark except for rings of yellow light as I jolt and twist a bit and finally hear myself say "what?"
---

"Sorry," I hear now Janice clearly whisper. "I didn't mean to startle you awake. I have tucked your sister in and she fell asleep almost right away. I came back here to study at your desk, as promised, but noticed that I forgot to cover you up with your bed sheets. You must have felt cold as you were fidgeting a bit, so I covered you up, but you started moaning."

Realizing now that I'm tied to my bed as I had wished for the night, and that I was just dreaming being buried under a pile of stinky stockings and tights, I respond, quietly so as to not wake my sister in the next room, "thank you Queen Janice for covering me up; I was asleep, but was dreaming of being bound to a cold dungeon floor, being buried under a pile of smelly stockings and tights."

I hear Janice suppress a slight chuckle and say, "my apologies Sebastian, I should have tucked you in proper before taking care of your sister. I didn't mean for you to have a nightmare. I should untie you."

Being blindfolded, I cannot see if Janice is actually amused or concerned. I want to reassure her, in part because I don't want to be untied, so quickly, but still quietly, "noo, please Queen Janice, I beg you to keep me tied-up all night. It was not a nightmare, just a strange dream."

"Alright Sebby, if that is your wish. I still have the glass of water I brought earlier on your nightstand. Do you wish a few more sips?"

"No thanks Queen Janice, I'll be fine."

"Okay then. I'll get to studying; you should fall back asleep as it is past 8 in the evening and you need plenty of sleep to stay focused tomorrow in class." Janice gives me another little kiss on my forehead as she says "don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Janice?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you one question before I fall back asleep?"

"Okay."

"Do you think I can become a good ballet dancer?"

"Why this sudden interest in learning ballet? You've enjoyed watching but never expressed interest in becoming a dancer yourself?"

"Lucille said that, with your help, and a lot of work, I could become a good dancer."

"I see, a girl you like is interested in ballet so you want to find ways to spend more time with her. It's a serious commitment, to become a dancer, and like myself you need fallback plans; few become good enough to make a living off it. What if Lucille stops being interested in ballet, will you stop being interested in it too?"

"I didn't think about that."

"I thought so. Now, keep quiet and go to sleep. You need your sleep and I need to study these papers. I'll keep an eye and ear on you should you need to be released."

"Goodnight Queen Janice."

"Goodnight Sebby."

I can hear Janice occasionally flipping pages, as she reads some papers she brought with her. With the soft airplane blindfold on, my eyes closed, feeling happy to be securely tied to my bed, I start to doze off again.

---
My next dream, based off another science fiction series I loved to watch, has my cousin Mike captaining a spaceship with me as his ship's science officer. The two of us end up exploring an apparently desert planet for important resources when we are captured by a group of women who want to keep all the men of our ship as their slaves. They have us wearing some sort of belt that can send electrical punishing pulses if we don't obey. I try to devise a plan with Mike to escape, when one particular woman, who strangely resembles Lucille, red-haired, green-eyed, wearing a green leotard with red tights, overhears us. "No!, you won't succeed in escaping, ever!" she says, and pushes a button on her bracelet. Instead of an electrical shock through the waist belt, I feel a mounting itch on my right knee,. Try as much as I might, however, I cannot move to relieve the itch, and the itching sensation keeps on mounting. I once more hear a familiar yet distant voice ask if I'm alright and feel a warm touch on my forehead. I awake.
---

"Your squirming a lot Sebby, I'm going to untie you."

I can't see because of the blindfold, but I can feel Janice uncovering me, probably to either cut the zip-ties or unlock the cuffs and waist belt.

"Please don't, Queen Janice, I beg of you. I was having a pleasant, but an itch woke me. I promise not to move too much for the rest of the night."

"Where's your itch?"

"Above my right knee."

"You're not trying to trick me into tickling you? It's past 9:30 now; you need to sleep, not play tickle games."

"I promise, it's a real itch."

Janice starts to scratch my right knee through the opaque black tights. Once the itch relieved I say "thank you Queen Janice, the itch is gone. Please let me stay tie-up, will you Queen Janice?"

"Now," Janice says, "it will be at least another two hours before your mother and mine return--thank the heavens that I'm at the research and thesis writing stage, and I don't meet with my supervisor till the afternoon. But in your case my sweet little Sebby, you have classes all day and you need your uninterrupted sleep in order to stay focused at school. I should untie you, but you ask so sweetly." I hear Janice sigh.

"I promise not to move too much, so you can study. Are you studying me and boys like me?"

Janice suppresses another chuckle and responds, "oh my! no! That would be totally unethical; we only study consenting adults. While my area of research is related to helping people, it is about people who have certain types of ... dreams and memories, ... not like yours, but now is not the time to talk about such things. Your need your sleep, and I will soon go take a lay-down myself on your mom's bed. I have a compromise to propose."

"What is it Queen Janice."

"You can still call-out anytime if you need release, but something tells me you will resist to call out, to avoid waking your sister or me, or your mom later overnight, or just to push yourself. So I'm only going to cut one zip-tie, the one attached to your right wrist cuff. I will then leave a copy of the key to the locks in your right hand, which you will hold onto. I'll turn off your desk lamp but leave a little nightlight on and remove your blindfold. This way, if you feel the need to release yourself, you will be able to, unless you lose the key in your sleep. Hopefully, you won't resist calling out in that case if need be. It's either that or I untie you completely and you must sleep untied."

"Do I get to keep the key?"

"In the morning, when you have to get up and ready for school, you will have to return it to your mom. If the key cannot be found, you will not be allowed to be tied-up until it is found. So don't lose it. Deal?"

"Okay," I respond.

I hear Janice walk about and then come up close to the right side of my bed. I hear a snipping sound as she grabs my right wrist. She let's go and I can now move my right arm freely, not just little shifts. "Hold your right palm open," Janice says. As I do so, I feel a small key being pressed into my palm, and I clench it tight.

"Now let me tuck you in for a second time." As Janice says this, I can hear her flick a small switch, then walk over to my desk and turn off my desk lamp. She then removes my blindfold, but despite the nightlight, I can barely make out her silhouette. She pulls my covers back around me again, gives me a little kiss on the forehead, and says, "goodnight, for real this time Sebby. I'll see you again on Saturday."

"Yes, goodnight for real, Janice, see you on Saturday."

Janice takes her papers from my desk and leaves my room, leaving my bedroom door open, and heads into my mom's bedroom. I totally understood what she meant by seeing her again on Saturday. Janice is an assistant to the main ballet instructor at the ballet school my sister attends. My mom made it clear that I'm no longer trusted to stay at home alone while she takes my sister to the dance school on Saturdays. So next Saturday, my mom will take me along with her, dropping off my sister at school, then taking me shopping for tights and leotards of my own so I stop stealing my mom's and sister's, before picking up my sister again.

I ponder what colours of tights and leotards to get, excited by the prospect. But I'm also scared that my uncles as well as my father--when he returns from his business trip in a week--may find out I also like to wear such clothes and think it weird and silly. Despite all these thoughts, I finally doze off for the rest of the night feeling comfortable sleeping in tights and leotard, while still mostly tied up.

This time, I dream of all my cousins. I dream of Mike and Miranda running after me, with their older brother Greg observing from afar, making sure we don't hurt ourselves. I dream of Janice dancing in her ballerina outfit, but this time trying to get me to dance with her. But I also dream of the twins Arianne and Arielle, whom I've not mentioned yet, and who love to play dress-up games with my sister, and have tried multiple times to dress me up as well, but to no avail. In this dream they finally do, because me sister has me tied up first. Finally, I dream of my cousins Vivian, Ned, Susan and Julia on my father's side. None of them want to play TUGs with me, but want to teach me sports like soccer.

It is my mother that finally wakes me in the morning, after she had prepared breakfast and needs to ready us for school. Taking the key still clenched in my right hand, my mom unlocks the remaining cuffs. "Sleep well?" she asks.

"Oh yes mom! Thank you and thank Janice so much! I slept so well, felt so safe! No bed bugs! And I didn't wet myself; the diapers feel dry. I wish I could do this every night!"

"Oh really? Janice told me you had an itch at one point in the early part of the night, hence why she allowed you to sleep with a key. As for sleeping well the rest of the night, I can believe that. You didn't even stir when I came in to check on you with your aunt Beatrice, and we each gave you a little kiss on the forehead. You were sleeping like a sweet little baby angel." I blush beet-red, always, when my mom thinks I'm adorably cute. My mom continues, "and as for every night, you know that is impossible. You must earn these privileges, as it's not easy nor restful for the rest of us to be constantly worried about you. You have yet to even ask any one of us to untie you when you're tied-up. We will talk about more tie-ups on Saturday, but not before then. I don't want to hear about tie-ups until then. Understood?"

"Yes mom!"

"Good, now wash up and get dressed; breakfast will be waiting for you downstairs."

(To be continued in Part 10, Shopping for Leotards and Tights)
Last edited by tiedinbluetights 1 year ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Mommy's Naughty Boy »

I can't say this enough.... I love this story! I absolutely and thoroughly enjoy this fun that Sebby is experiencing. Thank you for continuing to write this ongoing tale!
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Mommy's Naughty Boy wrote: 1 year ago I can't say this enough.... I love this story! I absolutely and thoroughly enjoy this fun that Sebby is experiencing. Thank you for continuing to write this ongoing tale!
Thanks so much [mention]Mommy's Naughty Boy[/mention] for your encouragement. Time between new parts may grow to be a month or more apart, at least until my next vacation time, but rest assured that my 11-year old self had plenty of imagination; Sebby has still plenty of stories of dreams come true to share!
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Post by GermanTUGFriend »

[mention]tiedinbluetights[/mention]

At first I like to say Thank you very much for the last added great chapters of your story ! I still love to read and see what Sebby experiences with Janice, Margo and his mother ! Your bondage and tie-up ideas are wonderful, especially the modified leather restraints 8-) The tape and sock gags for Sebby are another real cool thing, even a blindfold is used for him :) :)

Maybe Janice or Sebbys mother could use a nice padded leather blindfold in the future...or even a spandex or leather hood as the final point :) ;) But that's only an idea of me, but maybe you like it ^^ I'm excited about the shopping trip for more leotards, tights and ballet slippers. Maybe one or two pairs of heels would or could find their way to Sebbys feet in the future ? Another idea are long sleeve leotards with attached fingerless gloves, in case Sebby wants to show his polished nails...but as mentioned, these are only some ideas from me :)

But nevertheless, keep up the good and amazing work !! :) :)
No proper TUG without gagging and hooding ^^ And don't forget a blindfold ;)
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Hello to my commenting German viewers [mention]Speedo[/mention] and [mention]GermanTUGFriend[/mention] ! Thanks for both your comments.

And thanks for the comments of all my other viewers as well. I never thought that my re-framing and re-imagining of what I had wished my childhood to be like would gather so many views.

I should have another instalment, hopefully, by the end of next week. Part 10 coming soon!
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Another long chapter, which I've divided up a bit into sub-sections with italicized headers. It's a bit light on actual TUGs, but there is one scene near the middle of this part. I hope you enjoy.

Part 10---Shopping for Leotards and Tights


--- Anticipation mounting ---

It was only Wednesday morning, the first morning after a wonderful night spent tied to my bed, but I was already eager for Saturday afternoon. I got ready for school, eat breakfast, and was off with my sister to catch our school bus.

At school, I was daydreaming of what colour tights and leotards we would find at the store on Saturday, and how many my mom would buy me, to keep to her promise from last Saturday. I thought back to all those years where I would eagerly await the arrival by mail of the seasonal Sears catalogue. While my sister and cousins would devour the toys section near the end of the catalogue, I would wait till I thought no one was looking, and then look at the women's underwear section, especially the stockings and tights section. I would look at the various colours and daydream about how it would feel like to wear them myself. I would further daydream of a world in which everyone, boys and men included, wore tights and leotards, but the boys and men would be still obedient slaves to girls and women.

So it was no surprise to me that I had completely missed my grade six teacher's announcements for tests the following week, that Wednesday morning. During morning recess, I was too distracted and unable to play catch with my friends, always fumbling the ball. My best friend Samuel, Sam for short, thought I was coming down with a cold, which I denied.

"Then you must be distracted by that girl you allowed yourself to be caught by yesterday," Sam concludes.

"No!" I retorted.

"Then why are you always stealing glances at her and her friends instead of paying attention to our game!" Sam exclaims with a laugh. "Admit it, you have a crush on Lucille!"

I turn beet-red, and don't know what to say, but not wanting to stay quiet and invite mockery, I say "no!" as I shake my head.

Another boy, whose name is long forgotten now, starts to sing "Sebastian and Lucille sitting in a tree ..."

Before that nameless kid could finish, my ever trustworthy Sam shoves the kid and says "stop that, Seb's blushing face confirms what we all knew already, no need to embarrass him anymore than I've already have."

The nameless boy must have wanted to shove back, but clearly held himself in check as I could hear a female teacher's voice, acting as a school yard monitor, call out "hey, no pushing or shoving or you'll all be denied out-door recess." I understood that sounded like punishment to most of the kids, but to me that would have been a reward! Nevertheless I always wanted to be on my best behaviour, especially with the teachers who, with the exception of my gym teacher, were all women. So we all resume to play catch, myself reluctantly. Thankfully, only a couple of minutes had to pass before the bell ending recess finally rang.

It was only later that Wednesday afternoon, when it started to rain outside and we had to stay indoors for recess, that I found out that there was a math test on Monday. Sam and I were setting up to play backgammon when Lucille walked up to me and asked, "so, not interested in studying for the math exam?"

"What math exam?" both Sam and I responded.

"The one the teacher announced earlier today. I'm not surprised Sam was not paying attention in Math class, but you Seb, that's a surprise!" exclaimed Lucille.

Sam simply shrugs his shoulders and mumbles "whatever," but I just stare quizzically at Lucille.

"I thought you were daydreaming in class; I'm glad you no longer answer most of the teacher's questions before I get to, but I did say I'd like to study with you some time; no point in doing so if you no longer pay attention in class." At that, Lucille walks away, while I feel my cheeks turning beet-red again and remain speechless.

"You know, there is no shame in liking another person, even if she's a girl," my friend Sam says. "Lucille clearly likes you too and wants to spend some time to get to know you better, studying for a math exam is just one pretext." As Sam says all this I see Lucille sit back down with her friends, all girls, and start to chat about something. "You see," Sam adds, "she is not studying now, just having fun as we were going to."

I remain speechless, but imagine what it would be like to muster the courage to walk up to where Lucille sat with her friends and apologize for not having paid attention in class and ask if she were still interested. Sam, sensing that I'm no longer interested in playing backgammon with him, interrupts my current daydreaming with, "why don't you go up and ask her what's on the math test on Monday? I'll pack the game board back-up."

"Lucille and her friends will just laugh at me," I respond.

"Her friends will laugh, most likely, but I doubt Lucille will. And so what if they do? I'd rather girls laugh at me than ignore me." Sam comments.

Thousands of thoughts and possibilities run through my head. I do like Lucille, would like to get to know her better, study with her whenever it was possible on rainy days. Yet at the same time I am terrified about her finding out about my love for being tied-up. No one at school knows. My sister hadn't told Lucille, or so Margo claimed, but what if Lucille finds out? I felt paralyzed.

So my friend Sam just gets up instead of me, and starts to walk off. At first, I'm terrified that he is going to go talk to Lucille, but instead he walks up to our teacher sitting at her desk correcting some papers while also keeping an eye on us during this indoor recess. I can't make out what they say. It is only once Sam returns that I find out. "So, yes there is a math test on Monday, and also a science test on Tuesday." Sam then lists off the topics that the tests cover and the homework problems the teacher assigned. "Now that you know, go up to Lucille and ask if she is still interested in studying with you."

"I'm not sure I should," I respond.

"I can't help you more with this. If you don't, one thing for sure is that she will lose interest in studying with you, or for that matter simply forget about you."

At the mention of being simply forgotten, something clicked in me. Not fully aware exactly why I managed to do so, I got up and walked over to where Lucille and her friends were sitting. Lucille had her back to me, but one of her friends saw me walking up and indicated that to the others. All of them started giggling, except for Lucille whose fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, as she turned around to face me, a stern frown upon her face, could have both burnt and drowned me.

"What is it Sebastian?" Lucille asked sternly. Her friends stopped giggling, but were still beaming with smiles, ready to let out more giggles, no doubt at my expense, as I sense my cheeks starting to match Lucille's hair in colour.

Yet, from some hidden source within me, perhaps helped on by the encouragement of my best friend Sam, I manage to say clearly enough, "Lucille? I'm sorry for not paying attention in math class earlier. I'd still like to study with you. I now know what's on the math test this Monday. Sam told me."

Her friends start giggling, but Lucille manages to retain a stern look and reply, "then go study with Sam," and turns back to face her friends.

I feel speechless again, but feel also frozen to the floor, unable to move back to my desk. The other girls continue giggling as they glance at me and exchange whispers among themselves, and although only seconds pass, it feels like an eternity before Lucille turns back to face me. Her face is no longer stern, just sad looking now, "listen Seb; this recess is almost over, so there is no point now. Tomorrow, and Friday, if it is too rainy outside and we have to stay indoors, then yes, we could study together. I'm curious how you manage to get the answers to the teacher's questions faster than me. But you have to pay attention in class and promise you won't turn into one of those silly boys who don't care about their grades. Okay?"

"I promise," I say. Lucille finally allows herself to smile, before turning back to her friends.

The rest of Wednesday goes by uneventfully, but true to my promise I remain focused during class time pushing all fantasies about being tied up in leotards and tights aside. At home I dutifully help my sister with her homework before completing mine. Thursday and Friday also fly by, and not being rainy enough, recess is outdoors. Despite not getting another opportunity to study indoors, Lucille and I do manage to get to talk to each other during Friday afternoon recess; another cops and robbers game, but this time I almost immediately got caught by cop-Lucille and guarded by her the whole time.

"That was too easy!" Lucille exclaimed with mock disappointment, but smiling gleefully.

I chuckle and say, "you could interrogate me on my math skills, I promise not to escape."

"Oh don't worry, my friends are making sure non of yours will get near enough to tag you free," Lucille responds. "So, how do you get your answers so quickly?"

And so Lucille and I got to have a nearly 15 minute long chat, just the two of us, while everyone else in the school yard were running around. Yet, my heart was racing as if I was sprinting around the playgrounds myself. I told Lucille about how I actually always read far ahead in our textbooks, and even do some problems that were not even assigned yet. She expressed concern about reading too far ahead and what if the topics I learn myself end up not being covered. I explained that if they don't get covered, I still learned something that might be useful later, but that more importantly, they are more often than not actually covered, and reading ahead and doing the problems before they are even covered in class gives me additional practice that allows me to see patterns emerge and come up with quicker mental arithmetic calculations based on those patterns. It's at that point that Lucille switched our conversation over to dance.

"So it's much like learning how to dance and do ballet, you learn patterns and repeat them over and over until they become almost instinctual," Lucille commented. "You see, you could apply that to more than just solving math problems. I really think you should join our ballet school, we could get to spend Saturday afternoons together."

I feel my cheeks burning red despite the cool October air. "I don't know. I'm afraid to be laughed at."

"By whom? The other students? If they do, the instructors will put them in their place quickly, and the instructors would never laugh at someone learning. Maybe if you tell them a good joke or deliberately clown around at the end of class, but they wouldn't be laughing at your expense."

"But wouldn't I look silly as a boy in tights and leotard?" I ask, cheeks still burning, and surprised at myself to be even asking the question. Spending time talking to Lucille, despite my crush on her, made it easier and more natural to talk to her with each passing moment.

Lucille lets out a cute little giggle, but quickly suppresses it and in a serious tone responds, "Sebastian, you must have seen some of the boys at the school last Saturday when you came by with your mom to pick up your sister and your cousin, no?"

"I saw one, Jimmy I believe is his name."

"Yes, Jimmy. And was he wearing tights?"

"He wore a loose fitting pair of pants that flared at the bottom, what looked like a short sleeve t-shirt, and just socks, no shoes or tights."

"That's because -- and I don't think it's fair; we girls must always wear our exercise tights and leotards during all dance classes -- boys in ballet class don't always have to wear tights and leotards, just their exercise shirts and pants. It's only required during practices leading up to an actual performance, or during dress rehearsals, where it is important for the instructors and choreographers to properly see all their lines and movements and be able to help them improve those. However, Jimmy did wear black ballet slippers during practice last week, but probably removed them after class by the time you came by. Still, I wish the boys would wear their tights and leotards all the time; I actually think the boys look cuter when they do instead of being in their plane exercise clothes most of the time."

"Really?" I ask. Before Lucille can answer, the end of recess bell rang, and for the first time I internally cursed rather than welcomed the end of recess.

As all the kids started slowly filing out of the yard back into the school, with no one around us by the fence where I was cop-Lucille's captured, yet willing, prisoner, I now see Lucille's sweat little pink freckles turn redder before my eyes as she bites her lip for a second, and then looks straight into my eyes and says, "yes, and I think you'd look cute too." With that, Lucille quickly turns and runs off to join her friends who have queued up to enter the school.

Another first happens; I'm the very last kid to enter the school.

Keeping my promise to Lucille to remain focused in class that Friday afternoon was difficult, given the revelation that she would find me cute, not silly, as a boy ballet dancer in tights. Yet I managed by consoling myself that after school, I could daydream all I want. At the end of the school day, as class was dismissed and we were putting our coats on, getting ready to file out towards our respective school-busses, Lucille came up to me and asked, "shall I see you at the dance school this Saturday?"

"Only to drop off and pick up Janice and my sister."

"You could stay and even join up."

I feel like I'm blushing again and my heart is definitely racing once more. "My mom and I have ... uh ... other plans. And isn't the deadline to sign-up past?"

Lucille raises an eyebrow at the mention of me having plans with my mom, but does not ask about it, instead matter-a-factly stating, "it's only if we are full up or when a show we are putting on is about to be preformed that we don't take new people; perhaps you'll join-up the following week then, but don't wait too long to join!" With that said, she ran off towards her bus line.


--- A quick Saturday morning ---

That Friday night, when I fell asleep, I dreamt of performing as a ballet dancer, despite not knowing how to dance, to the applause of Lucille and some unseen audience. When Saturday morning came, my excitement over getting my own pairs of tights and leotards was barely containable. So much so that I couldn't care about watching my favourite Saturday morning shows and cartons after breakfast. Normally, my sister Margo would stay in the kitchen after breakfast and watch her favourite shows on the small kitchen TV with my mom, while I would watch in the basement on the larger TV, shows like Adam West's Batman and Star Trek in reruns, or cartons like GI Joe. Instead, I offered my sister Margo to watch her favourite shows downstairs, if she and mom didn't mind if I were 'tied-up' and 'forced' to watch along.

"Princess Margaret, Queen Anne, it would be my honour to be your prisoner while you watch your shows downstairs," I blurted out once we were done with breakfast.

My mom and sister both let out a chuckle, my mom asking, "aren't you interested in watching your shows?"

"Nah, it's all re-runs, Queen Anne," I say.

"And you promise not to make fun of Sally and her friends?" asks Margo. My sister was referring to her favourite Saturday morning carton, whose English title would have been Sally the Witch a late 1960s Japanese anime for kids that was in my corner of the world dubbed into, and available only in, French and actually known as Minifée.

"I promise Princess Margaret, but you can always gag me to make sure Princess Margaret," I reply.

"Alright, you did keep your promise not to nag me about getting tied up since Tuesday night, so I can give you that" my mom answers, "but you must remain in your pyjamas, no leotard and tights, and you will only be loosely tied to the chair, no gags"

My sister and I headed downstairs and fetched the tie-up chair we used last Saturday, while my mom headed upstairs, presumably to grab Janice's bag of toys hidden somewhere in the master bedroom. Moments later, she indeed came back down with the bag, and sets it down by the chair that my sister and I had placed between the sofa and Lazy Boy, facing the TV.

"Okay, just a quick tie-up, but if at any point you need to be released, that ends the tie-up for you Sebby," my mom says. She proceeds to take out the wrist and ankle cuffs that were used on me Tuesday night, but not the waist belt. She locks those on me and kindly asks, with a smile, "now please take your seat." As I do, my mom hands a couple of ropes to my sister and grabs a couple herself.

"Hands behind the chair, through the slats please," says my sister Margo. I comply.

Within a minute, both my mom and sister have me secured to the chair. My mom tied each of my D-ringed ankle cuffs to the corresponding front legs of the chair and taken the loose ends of each rope and wrapped them a few times up around each of my PJ clad legs before tying them off. My sister tied my D-ringed wrist cuffs together behind the chair and then wrapped the loose ends of that rope around my waist a couple of times before tying them off in front of me, out of reach from my hands; the second rope she used to bind my chest to the chair.

"Comfy?" my mom asked when all done.

The basement is a bit cold this time of year, but with my pyjamas still on, and my feet still covered in my fuzzy slippers, it is actually quite comfortable so I respond, "yes Queen Anne."

"And what do we say?" adds my mom.

"Thank you Princess Margaret, thank you Queen Anne."

"Good, now be a good and quiet boy, while your sister and I watch her shows," my mom concludes. She turns on the TV and takes a seat next to my sister on the sofa. Within minutes, my sister's favourite Saturday morning carton, Sally the Witch, is on. The premise of the show is that Sally, the princess and only daughter of the King and Queen of a magical kingdom, is bored and travels to our mortal world where she befriends two school girls. Allowed to stay so long as she watches over her adoptive young brother, all sorts of magical mishaps occur.

"I wish I had magical powers like Sally," my sister exclaims at one point.

"Don't we all," my mom sighs.

I remain quiet, as ordered, happy to be tied-up, and oddly enough, paying attention to the show, actually liking most of the female characters. As for the male characters, Sally's farther, the King, scares me actually, as he is depicted as being quick to anger. Thankfully, the Queen, Sally's mother, always knows how to calm him, and while acting mostly as advisor to her husband, seems to always guide her husband towards the outcomes she and her daughter desire. There are also identical triplet boys, brothers to one of Sally's friends, who always cause and get into trouble, which I don't like them for. As for Sally's own adoptive brother, he has magical powers too, but constantly uses them for mischief, which also makes me dislike him. The only two other recurring male characters are an overworked school teacher who happens to be the teacher of Sally's friends and an overworked taxi driver who happens to be the widower and single father to the triplets and one of the girlfriends to Sally. I cannot identify with any of the male characters so I find myself rooting for Sally and her two girlfriends.

"Whose your favourite character," my mom asks Margaret.

"Oh Sally of course!" exclaims Margo.

"And what about you Sebby?" my mom asks.

"He doesn't like the show," my sister interrupts.

"Let him answer Margo," my mom gently affirms. "Well Seb?"

"I like the Queen the most, Queen Anne," I reply, while enjoying an occasional struggle here and there against my bonds.

"Really?" my sister responds incredulously. "Why not one of the boys?"

"Their all too mean to each other and the girls to my taste, Princess Margaret," I reply.

"What about one of the grown-up men? Like the King or the loving father?" my mother asks.

"The King seems angry all the time, and the father of the triplets is not shown as often as the Queen. I like Queen and her daughter Sally ... Queen Anne, Princess Margaret."

"Hmm, your father is coming back from his two-week business trip this Wednesday," my mother muses aloud. "He'll be taking a whole week off to relax. Perhaps next weekend you should go fishing with your dad; I think it would do you good to spend more time with your father Sebby. What do you think?"

"Maybe, Queen Anne," I reply.

"Can I go too mom!" my sister exclaims.

"We'll have to see which weekend day is best, if it falls on a Saturday, it will conflict with your dance practice Margo," my mom states matter-a-factly. We resume watching the show quietly, with me occasionally and deliberately straining against my bonds, but not so much as to make the chair creek, enjoying the sensation of being tied up and unable to get loose. Yet, I'm also pondering about a dilemma I'm now faced with: I hate fishing and would rather stay at home and read comics or paint my toy models, yet I do want to spend time with my dad, as he does overwork, much like the dad in the TV show currently playing. Plus, there is a growing desire in me to join the dance school after all, given Lucille's comments at school.

As I ponder on all these thoughts, the episode, nearing its end, has a scene in which Sally has conjured up a magical paddle to spank her adoptive brother with for his mischief. My sister exclaims "I wish I could do that to all the boys who tease me!"

"Now, now, you know how both your dad and I feel about such things," my mom interjects. "Corporal punishments are not a solution, and I hope you both keep that in mind when you grow up and have children of your own. Besides, from what Janice tells me happened on Tuesday, Sebby here might actually enjoy getting spanked by girls and women; I certainly don't want him to think he can deliberately misbehave in order to get punished as such."

"I'm sorry mom! I didn't mean to hurt Sebby!" my sister exclaims with concern.

"Don't worry Margo, you're not in trouble. Janice told me how Sebby stood up for you, and later admitted to having found it, not entirely unpleasant, when you gave him a quick purple nurple. Janice and I need to discuss further this new piece of information about Sebby's predilections, before we figure out what to do about it. Until we come up with something constructive, no further talk of spanking, purple nurples or any other form of physical punishments. Understood?"

"Yes mom," my sister replies.

"And Sebby? You've been a good boy," my mom continues. "You've only answered when asked directly to do so. Do you understand what I just said?"

"Yes, understood Queen Anne; I'm not to misbehave in the hopes of getting punished physically, Queen Anne," I answered.

"Good. Now that the show is over, anything else either of you would like to do before lunch and setting off to pick up Janice before the dance lessons?"

"I'd like to play with my doll house!" mys sister Margo exclaims. "Sebby can join and play along, if he wants; he does not have to call me Princess Margaret if he's not tied-up."

"Okay, the Princess and Queen honorifics are no longer required Sebby. Do you wish to go and play doll house with your sister, or do you wish to do something else?"

Thinking back to my promise to my sister last week, I realize I probably should say yes to playing with her, rather than express what I truly wished in the moment, to be tied up even more tightly and left to watch the next show that was now on TV. The show, ironically given what my mom just said, happened to be the episode of Space: 1999 that had a group of women clad in skintight red outfits, wielding whips, and chasing after male prisoners of theirs. Thoughts of being one of those male prisoners run through my mind. Nevertheless, I respond, "okay Margo, let's play with your doll house."

"Yeah!" my sister exclaimed.

I was quickly untied and the cuffs were stored back away in the bag that my mom then hid away somewhere. My sister and I spent the rest of Saturday morning playing with dolls and her doll house, and I followed my sister's lead in how I should roleplay which ever dolls she handed me. We then had an early lunch and got cleaned-up and ready to go pick-up Janice and drop both Janice and my sister off at the dance school early.


--- Shopping leotards and tights ---

Before getting dressed in our street clothes I asked my mom, "can I please put on the leotard and tights from Tuesday under my street clothes mom!" I desperately wanted to feel what it was like, as that is what my sister was doing every Saturday after lunch as she got ready to be dropped off at the dance school.

"Why?" my mom asked. I explain to her my reason, wanting to know how it feels like, and point out that last week she had me wear the tights anyway. Now it could be both the leotard Janice had handed down to me as well as the tights. "Okay," my mom says, "but make sure to fully relieve yourself in the bathroom before we go, as it will be challenge to go in a public men's bathroom and it will a few hours before we get back home."

"Thanks mom! You're the best mom in the world!" I exclaim, and go on to clean up and change out of pyjamas and into my black tights and shinny pink long-sleeved mock turtlenecked leotard, over which I pull a pair of outdoor socks, pants and sweater.

Shortly thereafter, my mom, sis and I are all off to pick up Janice. My sister and I are in the backseat, and once again I deliberately pull my seat-belt tight across my waist, but this time my sister does not tease me about it. Once Janice is picked-up from my aunt's place, it is a quick drive to the dance school, where we arrive before the other students as Janice helps set up, with my sister tagging along, before classes start.

"Happy shopping! Hope you find some nice tights and leotards Sebby!" Janice says as she gets out of the car and winks at me. My sister also gets out of the car, and adds, "yeah! can't wait to see what colours you get! Have fun dear bro!"

"Thanks! Have fun too. Oh, and could you please say 'hi' to Lucille from me?" I ask.

"Will do," Janice says and gives me a little pat on my head, before closing her passenger door, and taking my sister's hand as they walk off towards the ballet school's main doors.

As my mom and I drive off towards the nearest mall, she asks, "what was all that about? Saying 'hi' to Lucille?"

"At school yesterday, Lucille was wondering if she would see me again at the ballet school like last Saturday, and if I would join Margo in ballet lessons or just stay and watch."

"And what did you say?" my asks as she stays focused on the drive.

"I told her that I was just coming along with you to drop-off and then later pick-up Janice and Margo. That's when Lucille said ... ah ... that ... uh ... I'd look cute in tights, if I'd join up." I can now feel myself blush again.

"Hmm, I see," my mother muses aloud. "Looks like you and this girl, Lucille, have a thing for each other. She seems to want to find ways to spend more time with you. So you are thinking of joining up? Despite your feigned disinterest in dance?" my mom asks.

"I'd prefer that to going fishing, although I would like to spend time with dad too when he comes back. I don't know what to choose. Lucille did say not to wait too long."

"Then let's hope you will be able to do both! I'm glad you're no longer too shy to join up, you've always did show interest in dance, even if it was just watching and then pretending you didn't want to learn it for yourself." As my mom says this we are finally pulling into the parking lot of the mall, where the Sears department store we usually go to is located. I recall it having a large area where various brands of women's tights and pantyhose can be found. I eagerly await for my mom to park the car proper, before we both get out and then walk towards the main entrance to the mall.

Once inside the department store, my mom and I head towards the pantyhose and tights area, where hoses of all sorts of opaqueness and colours are on display. A young woman working at the store walks up to my mom and asks her, "can I assist you with anything ma'am?"

"Yes actually. I'm looking for some everyday tights and leotards for my daughter, but she is at her ballet lessons right now, so I brought along my son here who is about the same size as my daughter," my mom says. I'm glad my mom had stuck to the cover story she told me she would use, given that I am actually taller than my sister, and only just a tiny bit shorter than my mom. The tights and leotards will be meant for me actually, but I'm terrified of the thought of this pretty sales clerk finding that out.

The sales clerk, looks at me briefly, with a wry smile, and turns back to my mom saying, "sure, right this way," and leads us to the section with the correct sizes. "You'll find the right size tights here, as for the leotards, they will be just a couple of aisles over towards the cash register. Anything else?"

"That will be all, thanks," my mom replied, and at that the clerk left us and headed towards some other shopper.

Before me were arrayed tights in all sorts of colours, shine, and opaqueness, from almost completely see-through to completely opaque. I was drawn to the opaque ones and started looking at them more intently.

"You prefer the solid colours I see," my mom states. I turn beet-red, scared that she may have been overheard, but say nothing. "I can afford three pairs for you, if we are to get you a couple of leotards as well. Which ones do you like?"

I was focusing on a pair of dark blue opaque tights, whose shade I learned was called navy-blue. My mom grabbed one pack and took a look at the label. "These seem to be the right size for you, Sebby. Okay pick two more." I was still blushing, scared that other customers in the store would overhear, but was also too nervous and scared to ask my mom to be more quiet, worried that if I protested somehow, this opportunity to get more tights in colours I liked would be lost.

So, nearby to the tights my mom just grabbed, I saw a pair of much brighter blue opaque tights, in a shade that was called royal-blue. I pointed to those ones.

"My, my, you really like shades of blue, let's see ... yes, these are the right size too." My mom is now holding on to two different shades of blue tights as she adds, "will you pick yet another shade of blue?"

At that comment, I started thinking of Lucille, and her pink freckles, flaming red hair, and emerald green eyes. My attention instantly got drawn to a pair of shiny bright-green opaque tights that reminded me of Lucille, not because I ever noticed the tights she wore at school, but because of her eyes. My mom saw what had caught my attention, and started looking at one pack, then another, and yet another in that shade. "I'm sorry, Sebby, they don't seem to have it in the right size for us. Is there an other colour you'd like, or we can just keep it at two pairs."

I look at my mom in protest and whisper, "please, can we get a third pair?"

"Okay, but don't take too long, we got to look at the leotards too, plus I have a little surprise for you after we're finished at this store."

Eager to find out what that surprise might be, I quickly point towards some pink, semi-opaque tights, whose shade reminds me of the leotard that I am currently wearing hidden under my street clothes and that my mom had allowed me to wear for today. Their shade, while not exactly those of Lucille's freckles, nevertheless remind me of her.

"Are you sure Sebby?" my mom asks. I nod yes eagerly.

Looking through the pairs my mom finds one in the right size for me and says, "there we go, three new pairs for my little Sebby! With the black ones hidden under your pants, and with proper care, you should have four pairs that will last a while. Now let's find you some leotards."

As the sales clerk had said, we easily found the section with leotards, closer towards the cash register. Compared to the tights, there wasn't as much of a selection for colours and styles. "Is there a style you'd prefer?" my mom asked aloud.

I was again blushing red, certain that this time the clerk had overheard. Trying to be quiet, I whisper to my mom "long-sleeved and mock turtlenecked."

My mom clearly heard me, but instead of whispering back answers in her usual tone, "alright, let's find you some."

I feel embarrassed, but if anyone overheard they don't seem to act as if they did. The sales clerk is busy at the cash register and the other shoppers are going about their business, with the nearest ones being a couple aisles over in the tights section. Browsing through the long-sleeved, mock turtlenecked leotards we find two that fit me. As luck would have it, one is a nearly identical shade of royal blue to the new pair of tights we found, while the other was of the same shade and shine of black as the tights currently hidden under my pants.

"There we go!" my mom exclaimed. "Now let's go pay for these and I can tell you about your surprise!" I was certain the sales clerk heard this time as I saw her look up as we headed to the cash register. Luckily, no other shoppers were in the immediate vicinity, so I hoped we would be out of the store quickly.

At the cash, the clerk remained professional and processed the sale efficiently. If she overheard anything, she didn't indicate it while she ran the cash register and handed my mom the articles we just bought in a store bag along with the sales receipt. "Thank you for shopping at our store, have a pleasant day!"

"A nice day to you too!" my mom says, and then turns to me and adds, "aren't you going to say bye and wish the helpful young lady anything Sabby?"

I feel my cheeks burning red with embarrassment, but still muster up the courage to say a meagre "bye" while waving so with my right hand.

"He's a shy one, isn't he?" the clerk comments rhetorically.

"Yes, but only with people he doesn't know well. Once he's familiar with someone, he can talk their ears off!" my mom starts laughing, along with the clerk.

"Well, have a nice day to both of you! Hope to see you again." As the clerk says that, she gives me a wink a waves bye to me.

"Bye bye," my mom says, as she gently takes hold of my still awkwardly waving hand, and walks us out of the store. However, instead of walking towards the mall exit, we head deeper into it, onto the second floor of the mall in fact. Moments later we are standing before what appears to be a specialized boutique, selling dance attires!

"You expressed a desire to join the ballet studio where Margo is taking her lessons, so this is the surprise! You will need a pair of beginners ballet shoes and a boys leotard. What do you think?"

Looking into the store, I notice that there is no one but for one person, perhaps the store manager, an older woman, long greying hair held in a bun, and quite taller than my mom. I also see that there are indeed both male and female mannequins sporting dance attire. One male mannequin in particular is wearing black tights that are waist high, with what appears to be a tightly fitting v-necked, cap sleeve, white leotard tucked under the tights. I point to the model and ask my mom, "why is he wearing a leotard under his tights?"

"That's how male ballet dancers wear their leotards. If you are to join the same ballet school as Margo, and ... Lucille ..." my mom pauses a few seconds, "well you'll need proper attire for a boy. Those tights and leotards we just got are not meant for dance. They can make do, but you want those for other things, like getting tied up in and tickled hmm?" My mom says all this with a wry smile on her face, and, at least to me ears, loud enough for any passerby to hear, of which luckily there was none. "Shall we?" my mom indicates with her hand that we should enter the store.

With much trepidation, I take a few steps into store, and marvel at all the different styles of dance attire. There is not only ballet attire, but also what I recognize to be ballroom dance attire and others I don't recognize at all. However, I remain focused on the male ballet attire, and notice just how much more opaque and thicker the fabric appears to what we just bought from the large department store.

"Well hello there Anne! How nice to see you! What brings you to the store today?" the old woman exclaims, as she comes out around from the counter at the back of store to greet my mother. I notice that she walks with much grace, as if she were about to dance like a ballerina herself.

"Hello Florence!" my mom exclaims in return, and as the older woman reaches her, my mom has to step on her tip-toes in her flats to be able to reach up and give pecks on each check as they both embrace. "My son Sebastian wants to join up in the same school as Margaret," my mom adds.

"Ah, so Sebastian has finally plucked up the courage to admit he likes dance and ballet, and would like to learn, eh?" Florence turns to me, and bends down to my level, and with a soft grandmotherly smile greets me as well, "hello there little Sebastian, that's great news your mom just revealed, there aren't many little boys as brave as you to admit their love of dance, and also be wise enough to know that they must be taught it proper."

I don't know if it is because Florence reminds me of both of my grandmothers that have sadly passed away, or her smile, her confident poise, her graceful walk in what I now notice to be ballet flats, but somehow I don't feel intimidated or shy in her presence, and fell comfortable answering without hesitation, "good afternoon Ma'am, a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, my dear young boy, how polite of you, but you can call me Florence, your sister Margo calls me by my first name too and I like it. May I call you Seb?"

"It would be my pleasure Ma ... I mean Florence!" My mom and Florence, both start to laugh, but not in a mocking way. Surprisingly, I do not blush or at least I don't feel like I'm blushing. Instead, I'm smiling and feeling happy, my heart pounding in anticipation, not fear, at the possibility of joining up, properly attired, the very ballet school I dreaded to join only a weak ago.

"Okay then. Why don't you take a seat here, Seb." Florence indicates a small bench near the store's counter as she briefly leans behind the counter and returns with a flexible white sewing tape measure. "Now take off your shoes so I can take a proper measure of your feet and find the right size beginners ballet slippers for you."

Without hesitation, I take off my shoes. Florence proceeds to take my right foot in one hand, and is about to start wrapping the tape measure around when she stops herself and lets out a little chuckle. "Oh my, seems like you are wearing tights underneath your socks; could you please remove your socks for me?"

This time, I do turn beet-red, and look up to my mom, who is just kindly smiling and says reassuringly, "it's alright Sebby, I'm sure Florence has dealt with situations like this before."

"Indeed," Florence interjects. "You're not the first boy to come in here for a ballet shoe fitting, wearing his mom's or sister's tights under his street clothes. Nothing to be shameful about. You will have to get used to wearing your own under your clothes if you want to become a ballet dancer."

Reassured by Florence's kind and soothing voice, I stop blushing, and allow myself to smile again. With resolve, I remove both my socks, and for the first time in my life, I get to enjoy the sight of my own feet clad in tights outside of the safety of my home!

"Hmm, those are indeed women's tights, there opaque enough for a young boy, but I still think you ought to get a proper pair of boys ballet tights along with a boys leotard and dance belt. What do you think Anne?"

"If you have the beginners ballet slippers in his size, then yes, we might as well pick up a pair of boys ballet tights and a boys leotard as well. Do you really think he needs a dance belt?" my mom asks.

"He is 11, isn't he? if you're hesitant because you worry he may change his mind about ballet school, we just got some new styles of boys leotards in that have dance belts incorporated. Anyway, for his first lessons they will allow him to just wear a white or black t-shirt and black shorts, but the school will require that he wear proper ballet slippers with either socks or tights."

Sensing a momentary pause in the conversation between my mom and Florence, I politely ask, "may I ask a question?"

"Sure Sebby, what do you want to ask?" my mom responds.

"Mom, I'd really like to join the school, and wear tights with my ballet shoes, but what is a dance belt? It's not a tutu is it?"

Both Florence and my mom burst out laughing, yet again not in any mean way. "May I answer?" Florence asks my mom. My mom nods yes.

"Ah my sweet innocent little boy, tutu's are only worn by girls and women; if boys ever get to wear them it is for a comedic effect; dance belts, on the other hand, are exclusively for males, around your age and older, and they are hidden under your leotard, or a part of it, which in turn, unlike for girls and women, is under your tights, making for masculine, yet modest, lines. Let me show you." Florence interrupts her measurement of my feet, gets up, and goes to browse through some shelves near the male ballet mannequin. "Anne, could you remind me again of the dress code for the school?"

"For boys, it's black ballet shoes with black tights or socks, black pants or shorts if no tights, and either a white or black t-shirt or leotard."

"Found one, which I believe to be in his size." Florence returns with a black leotard, cap sleeved, v-necked, and definitely very different from any of the leotards I've seen for girls. This one appeared to have a very narrow back-seat making the leg openings seem much bigger than for the girls leotards that my mom bought me and the one that was currently hidden under my clothes. More interestingly, the bottom of the leotard seemed made of much thicker fabric than the rest of the leotard.

"See this part, Seb," Florence says as she points to the lower part of the leotard. "It's called a thong bottom, and for this particular style it is also reinforced just like a separate dance belt would be, but integrated into the leotard itself. Some men and boys prefer this, while others prefer them separate. Since you have yet to have your first official lesson at the school, I'd recommend to your mother to buy as few articles as possible today. In fact, I think the leotard and tights could wait. The shoes are more important, and I have yet to measure your feet proper."

I look to my mom and beg, "oh mom, please, please, please, can I get at least one pair of boys tights and that leotard too!"

"We'll see, if Florence has your shoe size in stock, and your size for tights and the leotard, then yes."

"Thanks mom! You're the best."

Florence sets the black leotard she showed me onto the counter and gets back to measuring my feet. As she does, I start to giggle and wiggle my toes as my feet, being clad only in my mom's black tights gifted to me last week, are now very ticklish. "Try not to move, my ticklish boy," Florence says playfully.

I obediently try, but cannot help to wiggle and chuckle a bit from time to time, especially since I could swear that Florence is occasionally and deliberately poking my sensitive soles to elicit those wiggles and giggles of mine. "There we go," Florence finally says as she finishes measuring my feet. "Sorry for the tickles."

I giggle and, once again surprising myself that I do not feel shy with this person, reply "It's alright, I liked it!"

Both my mom and Florence let out a little chuckle and Florence remarks, as she smiles a warm grandmotherly smile "oh, I've noticed that Seb, I've notice that." At that, she pats my head and says, "now please stand up so I can measure your inseam and torso."

I do so, and she very quickly takes a few of more measurements, one from the heal of my right foot all the way up to bottom seat of my pants, and another couple around my waist and from the seat of my pants diagonally up to my right shoulder. "Hmm, seems like you are also wearing a leotard under your clothes. Your mom's?"

"No, my cousin Janice's old pink one," I blurt out before realizing what I just said, and clasping my own mouth shut with both my hands!

Florence just pats my head and says, "don't worry Seb. You're also not the first boy to walk in here wearing a girls leotard. I've seen many a boy wanting to become a ballet dancer first starting out with an older sister's or female relative's hand-me-downs, before switching to tights and leotards designed for boys."

I look at Florence and then at my mom and back at Florence, and sense no mockery in either. They just both smile kindly at me, and once again I feel reassured. Florence goes through a door behind the counter and comes back a few moments later with a pair of black canvas ballet slippers with a full length flexible sole instead of the split soles that the pink shoes Janice handed-down to me have. She also has a bag with black opaque tights in them, which she places down next to the leotard. "I have the beginners ballet shoes as well as the black ballet tights in his size; and the leotard on the counter is also the correct size. Just to make sure, however, he should try on the shoes, before I ring up the bill."

Florence comes back around the counter and bends down to help me into the ballet slippers, which have two black criss-crossed fabric elastics to hold them in place. I give them a try, by walking around the store in them and pretending to do dance moves. I sit back down with a huge grin on my face.

"They fit perfectly, thanks!" I exclaim. I take them off and hand them back to Florence, who proceeds to finish up the sale, while I put my socks and street shoes back on.

Moments later, with my boys tights and leotard, and a brand new pair of beginners ballet slippers packed away neatly into another store bag, Florence, whom I learn is the store owner, and my mom exchange their goodbyes. "Goodbye!" I say too, and wave so as we walk out of the store.

We walk back down to the ground floor of the mall, and finally back out and to our car. "We still have over an hour before you're sister's lessons end. I think we can make it back to the school in time and sign you up for next week? What do you think?"

"What about going fishing with Dad?"

"He prefers Sundays for fishing anyways, let's hope it will be a sunny Sunday!"

"Okay then!" I say, with mounting excitement at eventually being able to learn how to dance and hopefully please Lucille, who had expressed an interest in seeing me in tights. While that interest was in the context of ballet and the dance school, I couldn't help to daydream of what it would be like if she were into also tying up boys, tying me up, like me sister did. Would my sister become jealous of Lucille too, like she was of my cousin Miri, or would she play along like she did with my mom and Janice? And would I get to be tied-up again today? The morning tie-up seemed already so far away that I longed to feel ropes around my limbs once again.

I glance at my mom as I buckle into one of the back seats of the car, pulling the waist strap tight once more. Before driving off, my mom glances back at me with a knowing smile, as if she could read my mind.

(To be continued ... on indefinite hiatus)

Thanks again to all those who comment and read. I did not expect this story to get so many views. I will eventually get back to continuing this story, but it will be a few months, perhaps sometime in the summer. Sebby will eventually learn about applying and wearing nail polish and facial make-up, the latter a bit against his will, but all in good jest with the help of two female cousins I have yet to fully introduce--the twins Arianne and Arielle. However, Sebby will also learn why ballet dancers must remove all nail polish or only wear clear nail polish while practising. And yes, with the help of a loving, caring family, his relationship with Lucille will grow. Until this story's continuation, I'll be commenting and participating on other topics on this board, and perhaps even dropping one or two more one-shot stories in other threads.
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Blindfolded Lights
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Post by Blindfolded Lights »

Thanks for all the great work! Writing stories is just SO FREAKING HARD (Don't ask me, tried it before), so I am surprised to see one on a website, with ten chapters, intrigues me, and is still going forward!

I think the good part about this story is that it voices what many have thought but dare not bring into reality, which is also the case with me. So the empathy rocks.

I also like how the story walks out from the fictional shadows (A BIG ACHIEVEMENT BY THE WAY!) and added real elements like schools and crushes and exams, which gives this re-frame a, um, familiar air. (Can't think of better adjectives, ouch.) Keep it up!

I am looking forward to the involvement of more blindfolds and different tying-up scenes and perhaps a few twists before Seb gets to the pique of his life lol. It would be too easy if everything goes out smooth for him. Anyway these are just my ideas with premature consideration, you must have been coming up with better thoughts.

And just as I said writing good stories is hard, but it is now halfway through summer, and there are quite a few cravings for more chapters~

Sincerely wishing you best luck in the world!

Grateful reader from across the Pacific.
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tiedinbluetights
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Post by tiedinbluetights »

Blindfolded Lights wrote: 8 months ago Thanks for all the great work! Writing stories is just SO FREAKING HARD (Don't ask me, tried it before), so I am surprised to see one on a website, with ten chapters, intrigues me, and is still going forward!

I think the good part about this story is that it voices what many have thought but dare not bring into reality, which is also the case with me. So the empathy rocks.

I also like how the story walks out from the fictional shadows (A BIG ACHIEVEMENT BY THE WAY!) and added real elements like schools and crushes and exams, which gives this re-frame a, um, familiar air. (Can't think of better adjectives, ouch.) Keep it up!

I am looking forward to the involvement of more blindfolds and different tying-up scenes and perhaps a few twists before Seb gets to the pique of his life lol. It would be too easy if everything goes out smooth for him. Anyway these are just my ideas with premature consideration, you must have been coming up with better thoughts.

And just as I said writing good stories is hard, but it is now halfway through summer, and there are quite a few cravings for more chapters~

Sincerely wishing you best luck in the world!

Grateful reader from across the Pacific.
Thanks [mention]Blindfolded Lights[/mention] for your vote of confidence. Your kind words and encouragement are most appreciated.

I do believe that there are many other fictional stories for everyone on this site that are far better written than mine here, and worthy of a read.

I'm also sorry if I disappoint with my following comment, but this story of mine is on an indefinite hiatus; mostly due to just lack of time (a lot of RL work which the past two years had made it so that I cannot afford to let go of that, and, given my advancing years, the recovery time from the constant "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" has considerably increased). I have plenty of story ideas, mostly one-shots, some of which I may be able to adapt into this ongoing saga, but I just lack the time to write them.

I will eventually return to writing my own stories, but it will take much longer than I had initially anticipated. In the meantime, as I wrote at the end of my s last chapter, I'm not abandoning this site, I'm still participating and commenting from time to time.
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Blindfolded Lights
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Post by Blindfolded Lights »

Right.
The reason for my previous comment is probably because that I am still a lurker and have failed to explore the "Fictional Stories For Everyone“ Column in depth. Anyway the first few pages contain few eye-catching material so this is still a great piece.
Delays are absolutely understandable, as long as they eventually terminate (which you said would be the case). I myself is probably going to leave the forum in a while because I have a demanding August waiting for me.
Good luck with work and everything.

Lurker hunted by most authors whose stories are shown on the first few pages of "Fictional Stories For Everyone".
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Post by gustorak »

I enjoy reading this story. I find your writing better then other and surly better then my. I sad to hear, it will take some time before the story continue, but it's normal some time and we understand your situation. Since happen to me, when i draw and thing do not allow to produce as i wish.
I see, i have to teach you how to be Villains!

Let's get Dangerous!

Wasp being replace
Heroine High's trouble
Bombs Away Miss Lawson

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https://www.patreon.com/Gustorak
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Post by TightsBound »

Just got around to reading this one and I’m glad I did! It was very very well written and fun. And it definitely has me wishing I was tied up in tights. I’m looking forward to its eventual return, it’ll be worth the wait!
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Post by tiedinbluetights »

Thanks @gustorak ! and @TightsBound !

Your kind words of encouragement and understanding are most apperciated. I hope that when I finally get the time to resume my stories, I won't disappoint.
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