Mom's Favourite Song (m/F)

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Beppejolly
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smokeyfoggynight wrote: 11 months ago Hello, this is Steven, back with another story from my childhood.

To recap my last story, "Tying up Mrs. Miller" in October of 2003 when I was 12 years old, I pranked my best friend by tying up his mother and leaving her for him to find. It was the first time I'd ever tied someone up, and it was a pretty sloppy job, but I was determined to get better. I brought the rope I used to tie Mrs. Miller up home with me and hid it under my bed with the intention of learning how to tie a proper knot. I found an old scout book in my school library that explained, among other things, several ways to tie secure knots. I brought the book home and, after a lot of practice, succeeded in memorizing a few knots that I hoped would come in handy the next time I found someone willing to be tied up.

That time came sooner than I thought.

It was a little over a month since I tied up Mrs. Miller. I was at home with my mom on a cloudy, cold Sunday in late November 2003. It was mid-morning, and I was seated on the couch playing on my Gameboy Advance SP. Mom was folding laundry on the other side of the couch. My mother was tall and thin with blue eyes and long red hair she usually kept tied up in a ponytail. She was 34 years old, and she and I had always been really close since I was an only child. She looked up at the clock and sighed.

"It's so quiet around here," she said. "How about some music?"

"Sure," I answered. "Why not?" Mom got up and walked over to our computer, loading up the music player. A few seconds later and I heard the last song I wanted to hear begin to play. "Aww Mom," I groaned. "Not Achy Breaky Heart!"

Achy Breaky Heart was my mother's favourite song, not only because she liked the music, but also because she liked how much I hated it. She often played it just to mess with me. Mom turned to face me with an innocent smile on her face.

"What's wrong, Steven," she teased. "Don't you like Billy Ray Cyrus?"

"The first few times, sure, but not one million times!" I cried. Mom ignored me, put the song on repeat and went back to folding laundry. As she worked she began swaying to the music. Not well, either, she dances like Elaine from Seinfeld.

"Mom," I said, "You're embarrassing me."

"What?" Mom asked, laughing. "There isn't even anyone around, so how can I be embarrassing you?"

"The drapes are open in front of the living room window! Anyone can see you from the street!"

"Oh, really?" Mom grinned at me mischievously. "So you don't like it when I do this?" She sashayed over so she was dancing right in front of the window, and began singing along to the music. This was too much for me to ignore. This required action. I got up and walked over to the computer to turn on something else, but before I could reach the computer Mom grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the window.

"Oooh, a dance? I'd love to!" she said as she tried twirling me around near the window. Panicking, I pulled away from my mother before anyone could see me and ran downstairs to my room. Initially, I'd planned to get my water pistol in the hopes that threatening her with a soaking might make her stop with her horrific swaying around in full view of the street. As I entered my room, however, I thought of the bag of ropes still sitting under my bed. I had never really considered tying my mother up before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. My experience with Mrs. Miller had given me a little more confidence when it came to initiating tie-up games, and if Mom really didn't want me to, she could always just say so...

I reached under my bed, picked up the bag of rope and ran back upstairs. Mom was still swaying in front of the window, but she had her back to me. Perfect. I approached slowly, placing the bag on the couch and removing a length of rope. Silently, I snuck up behind her and in a flash I reached out and grabbed both her arms, pulling her back away from the window.

"Aaah! Steven, what are you doing?" Mom laughed as she staggered backwards. We both fell back onto the couch, and I quickly twisted Mom's arms behind her back, crossed her wrists and began to tie her hands. Mom didn't really realize what was happening until I tightened the knot around her wrists.

"Uh, Steven?" Mom asked, looking at me over her shoulder. "Did you just tie my hands together?" I didn't answer. Instead I grabbed another piece of rope and wrapped it around her upper arms, pinning them to her body. She stared down at the rope encircling her body.

"Where did you get all this?" she asked as I moved around to her front and began to tie her ankles.

"These are just some tools I got to prevent you from embarrassing yourself, and me," I replied. Mom made no attempt to fight as I finished off by tying some rope around her legs just above the knees. I don't think she was taking me too seriously, even now that I had her all tied up. I stood up and put my hands on my hips.

"There!" I said in satisfaction. "Let's see you dance to that music now!" Mom looked down at the rope tied around her body in various places and shrugged with a smile on her face.

"Okay," she said. She began swaying her bound body in time to the music, but made things even worse by singing along, using lyrics that she just made up off the top of her head! The lyrics she came up with were more relevant to her situation, however:

Oh, you can capture me
You can tie my hands and feet
And gag me so I cannot make a sound!


"Gaaaah!" I cried in frustration. That last line gave me an idea, so I dashed for the kitchen, determined to find something I can use to put a stop to her singing. As I ran off I heard her voice follow me into the kitchen:

Or maybe for a laugh
You can rope me like a calf
And leave me hogtied upon the ground!


"Work on the lyrics, Mom!" I yelled as I opened the kitchen drawers until I found what I was looking for: a wash cloth and a hand towel. I took one of each and rushed back to the living room. As Mom opened her mouth for the next verse I crammed the wash cloth inside, cutting her off and making her grunt in surprise. Then I tied the towel around her mouth and knotted it off behind her head underneath her ponytail, gagging her effectively.

Mom, however, refused to be discouraged. She looked up at me and began struggling against the ropes, but she was struggling in time to the music, and she was humming along as well! I was running out of ways to keep her still, but I had one final trick to pull. I lowered Mom down so she was lying on the couch, then climbed onto her legs so she wouldn't be able to throw me off. I started raking my fingers over the bottoms of her feet, and this finally provided the desired reaction. Mom stopped humming, because she was shrieking in laughter at my touch. She began writhing around on the couch, arching her back and doing everything she could to escape my fingers. For a couple minutes I tickled her relentlessly. Then, when I was satisfied she had learned her lesson, I got up and walked over to the computer.

"Let's put on something better, now," I said, turning off Achy Breaky Heart. I scrolled down through the songs until I found what I was looking for. The Smashing Pumpkins hit single, Walking on the Sun. I clicked play. Mom had been lying on the couch with her eyes closed, breathing heavily and recovering from my tickle attack. However, once the music started her eyes opened and her head perked up. She looked over at me and growled through her gag. Mom did not like this song, or this band, at all. She shifted her body around until she was sitting up on the couch again, then slowly she rose to her feet. She began to hop very carefully over to the computer, where she turned and reached for the mouse with her bound hands. By looking over her shoulder and bending her knees slightly, she was able to reach it and she slowly guided the mouse over to the stop button. Pressing it, she silenced the Smashing Pumpkins. I made no attempt to stop her in her endeavors because I was actually very impressed with her ability to move about despite being tied up. Mom then looked over at me and began "mmmpphhing" insistently. I interpreted that as her wanting me to remove her gag, so I walked over and pulled the cloth out of her mouth.

"Tell you what, Steven," Mom said. "Untie me, and I'll put on something we'll both enjoy."

"Ok Mom," I answered. I guided her down so she was seated in the computer chair and began to work on the knots around her upper arms and wrists.

"You know," Mom said as I was working, "it wasn't until you started tickling me that I realized how well you'd tied me up. Where'd you learn to tie knots like these, and furthermore, where exactly did you acquire all this rope?" I wasn't in the habit of keeping secrets from my mother, as she could see through my lies every time, so I decided to just come clean and told her about my experience with Mrs. Miller and the book I borrowed from the library. She listened in silence as I explained while untying her legs, holding the rope that had been wound around her arms in her lap while I worked. When I finished with my explanation she sat in silence for a minute, looking deep in thought.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" I asked nervously.

"No, no you're not in trouble," she answered reassuringly, smiling down at me. "There's just a few things I want you to be aware of if you're going to play these types of games with people. First, if you tie someone up, remember that they get to decide when the game's over. So if they seriously ask you to let them go, you let them go. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Second, if you're going to gag someone like you did to me, then you need to establish some sort of signal so your captive can let you know if they need you to remove their gag or untie them, since they can't talk. Okay?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Third, I don't want you using my good dish towels as gags, okay?"

"Okay, is there anything else I can use?"

"There are some old rags in the linen closet in the bathroom. Help yourself to some of those."

"Thanks, Mom." Mom ruffled my hair.

"That's all I wanted to say. You can go now!" I turned and rushed away, first to the linen closet, where I found a pile of rags on the bottom shelf. I took a handful downstairs with me and put them in my rope bag. Then I returned upstairs where Mom had turned on Hall and Oates and gone back to folding the laundry. Hall and Oates was a band we both liked (don't judge me). I spent the rest of the morning on my gameboy.


P.S. If anyone is interested, here's a link to Billy Ray Cyrus' Achy Breaky Heart song:
Mind if there will be a sequel
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