Just Like Old Times (F/FM, FM/F)

[caquernham]

Intro Thread: http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=9&t=1470

Jennie emerged from the utility room clutching several coils of rope. She sat on the basement floor with her legs folded, and started unravelling one of the coils.

“So, how’re we gonna do this?” She asked.

“Good old fashioned escape challenge.” Said Gracie. “One of us ties the other two, and then we race to escape. Winner gets to decide what to do with the loser.”

“How will we pick who goes first?” I asked.

“We could roll a die,” said Jennie, nervously running the rope through her fingers. “One and four is me. Two and five is Grace. Three and six is Tim.”

This was just a few weeks ago, on the last night we were together in our hometown before parting ways again. The girls had long ago shed the gawkiness of adolescence for the refined grace of womanhood. Jennie, narrow shouldered and broad hipped, wore a loose blue sheath dress. Her auburn hair cascaded past her shoulders in twirling tresses. Her expressive face and haunting grey eyes have not changed much since she was a teen.

Gracie, strongly built and wasp-waisted, wore a black tank top and khaki shorts. She lay on her belly with her pale cheeks resting in her slender hands. Her dark brown hair was drawn up in a ponytail, and her bare feet bobbed silently behind her.

I, on the other hand, have only grown chubbier and clumsier without a rigorous athletic lifestyle. I sat up with my legs straight in front of me. I was wearing a red t-shirt and cuffed khakis.

“Where are we gonna get a die?” inquired Gracie. “It’ll take too long to find one. I can download an app on my phone…”

“We don’t need no stupid app. I have a better idea…” I said. I grabbed Jennie, pulling her arms behind her. I began wrapping her wrists, one atop the other, with the rope she had uncoiled.

“Oh, come on. Don’t do me like this,” She whimpered, giggling and struggling playfully. Gracie got to work tying her legs together. When we were finished, Jennie was lying hogtied on her stomach. Her knees and ankles were bound and her elbows were secured tightly to her sides. A familiar expression was on her face: calm and poised, yet worried and alert with just a hint of defiance, like a damsel in an old-time film.

“I thought this was supposed to be an escape challenge,” she said, nervously testing her bonds.

“Escape challenge.” I teased, prodding her side with my toe. Gracie and I watched her squirm for a few more seconds before turning toward each other.

“We’ll flip a coin,” she insisted. “No cheating. That goes for you too, miss.” She gave Jennie a gentle slap on the rear to stop her struggling.

I dug a nickel out of my wallet and prepared to flip it.

“Call it,” I said.

“Heads,” she replied. I caught the coin and flipped it onto my arm.

“Heads,” I sighed. She grinned and picked up another rope.

I turned around and kneeled with my hands folded politely behind me. I chased the thought of overpowering Gracie from my head. The game would be no fun if it wasn’t at least a little fair. The cotton rope tickled as it was drawn across my wrists, reminding me of how much I missed these games. I savored once more the exciting realization of helplessness as the rope was pulled tight.

I was trussed up the same way as Jennie, lying beside her on the carpet. We exchanged competitive glances as we waited for Gracie to begin. As I tested my bonds, realizing for the first time how tightly I was bound, I could have sworn Gracie was snapping pictures on her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Starting the timer.” She lied.

“We don’t need a timer. It’s a race.” I said, firmly. I figured I would make her delete the photos after I won. After all, I had all this rope at my disposal if she needed persuading.

“Ok, ok. Start when I say ‘go’. Ready?” She paused.

Jennie and I looked at each other nervously.

“Ready…” I encouraged. Still, nothing happened.

“Oh, come on!” Jennie sighed.

“Just savoring the view,” beamed Gracie. “Readysetgo!”

Jennie rolled over on her side and began trying to slip out of the coil around her elbows. I picked at the knot, mercifully within reach, binding my wrists together. Gracie sat on the couch, indifferent to our plight. I paused every now and again to watch Jennie, whose exaggerated struggling and nervous expressions made her especially fun to observe. She had given up on slipping out of the rope around her chest and was reaching for the knot securing her ankles. She bit her lip as she stared over her shoulder, and the strain of her struggle showed in her flushed cheeks.

I wasn’t making much more progress. I couldn’t get a good look at any of my bonds, and I didn’t trust my fingers when they told me the knot was loosening. My wrists still felt firmly encircled.

We struggled on the floor for what seemed like hours, bumping and rolling into each other. Jennie kept nudging me with her toes, and it did not occur to me that she was trying to tell me something. I gave a sharp tug on my hogtie rope with my legs, and the knot came loose. I was both relieved to be in a more flexible position and disappointed to learn that the knot I had spent so much time on was not in fact the one securing my wrists.

I rolled over on my side, and suddenly had the sensation of Jennie’s fingers on my wrist. She had noticed that Gracie was engrossed by her phone and was no longer paying attention to us. Jennie, though easy to bind, was always crafty and resourceful when it came to escaping. She had to be watched carefully if we wanted to ensure she stayed put.

She eventually reached the knot and pulled it loose, not without great effort. My wrists immediately loosened and it took me a few moments to slip out of the ropes. Gracie hadn’t noticed us cheating. I reached over with my liberated hand and pretended to shake Jennie’s. She rolled over, grinning glibly and rolling her eyes.

I slipped the rope around my chest up over my head as I rolled over, and began loosening my legs. Freeing them was a matter of undoing the knots and slipping my feet through them. Once completely untied, I crossed my legs and leaned over to return the favor for Jennie.

“What are you doing?” I heard Gracie yell as I finally pulled the knot free. I sprang into action, turning around and grabbing her before she could react. As we wrestled, Jennie, clearly retaining her decades of her escape experience, deftly threw off the ropes constricting her upper body. I had just pinned Gracie as Jennie hopped over on all fours, legs still bound. She picked up some rope from the ground and made a loop around one of Gracie’s wrists as I held it still. I wrenched Gracie onto her stomach using my leg, and we crossed her hands behind her and firmly bound them.

We tied her as tight as we could without hurting her. She giggled madly the whole time, but any resistance against both of us was hopeless. Jennie tied and cinched her ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. After tying her wrists vertically and horizontally and cinching them in between, I bound her wrists to her waist, pinned her elbows to her sides from both above and below the joint, and wrapped her shoulders. We used the rope both of us had been bound with, plus a little extra. The whole nine yards. Or rather, the whole 30 yards. Gracie never had a chance.

I picked up her phone off the couch and pressed the fingerprint sensor to her fingertip. It opened. I went to her pictures and, sure enough, there were the clandestine photos of the two of us. My bare feet, bound at the ankles, filled the screen in one, with the back of my head just visible beyond. Another showed my arms twisted securely behind my back and tacked tightly together. Still more showed Jennie, also clearly aware that she was being photographed, glaring at the lens from her restrictive hogtie. I thought it would be a shame to delete such wonderful memories and decided to add a few more: Gracie, bound literally from head to foot, with the fakest, most pitiful pout on her lips.

We teased and ridiculed her, enjoying her embarrassment and savoring her helplessness. She rolled and squirmed without effect. Her bare shoulders looked set to burst from the top of her bonds like an overstuffed sausage. Jennie rested a foot triumphantly on her hip.

“Gracie, how do you lose a game you weren’t even playing?” She teased.

“I thought you realized,” I responded, “that it wasn’t you against me. It was us against her.”

“True,” said Jennie, tickling Gracie’s side with her toe. “That means we wo-on!”

“I wanna hear her say it!” I said. “Say we’re the ultimate champions of tie-up games.”

“I will have my revenge,” She said.

“That doesn’t sound very much like groveling,” Jennie pointed out. “You have to kiss my feet if you want to be let out.”

“We’ll settle this another time,” she growled, snubbing Jennie’s outstretched foot.

“Oh, it looks plenty settled to me,” I responded.

“You can’t both be champions.” Gracie blurted smugly. Jennie and I exchanged furtive glances. Unfortunately, we had used all of the ropes on Gracie. Jennie was safe for now.

We reluctantly relieved Gracie from her bonds. We had all had enough for the night, but we shared a feeling of excitement that our games had not ended with our childhood.

[Solarbeast]

That was a great story. I can’t wait to read more of your childhood fun.

[Deleted User 1729]

Love this one! I especially like the repeat sentence with different words emphasized. Very well written!