Amber looked up at me with pleading, yet hopeful, eyes.
"Say you'll do it; please, Oscar? I really want you to; I promise! And besides; it'll only be for the night; right?"
I looked down at her, and this is what I saw:
a petite girl with a golden complexion, thick, long hair and fawn-like eyes, making her perfectly named, dressed in a gold-coloured, long-sleeved, velvet leotard, and yellow cotton pantyhose, but no shoes.
Then I looked at myself:
tall, kind of over-weight (but not by much, I like to tell myself), dark-haired, dressed in cut-off jeans and a red t-shirt, white tube-socks and grey sneakers, and twice her age; at least. The word "child snatching" came to me, but I banished it by telling myself it was all her idea, in the first place.
I gently squeezed her shoulders. "You want to pretend you're my hostage? Excuse a silly question, but; why would I wanna take you hostage in the first place?" I asked with a smile.
She gave me a shy smile back.
"Well, to begin with: I've noticed you like being around me." She held up one finger; "and I like being around you," she held up another finger, "and probably a whole bunch of other reasons, which I can't think of right now. Oh, I forgot; my parents are supposedly rich."
"You watch way too many crime stories on TV; you know that?" I chuckled as I put a finger under her chin. "Sure, I'll do what you want, just like you knew I would. So, what do I have to do? Keep you tied up somewhere, obviously; but where? As you know I haven't got a car, and I can't very well walk around town with you, trussed up like a chicken, thrown over my shoulder!"
She giggled when I mentioned walking around town with her, being "trussed up like a chicken" and thrown over my shoulder, but then became serious again, real quick.
"Suppose not; but why don't you keep me here?" she asked. "Maybe in my bed-room? Yeah, that's a great idea; I can be tied spread-eagle on the bed!"
"O.K," I agreed, "but not the bed-room. Hostages aren't supposed to be comfortable, so you'll have to be lying on the floor, or be tied to a chair, preferably one without a cushion. No, it'll have to be the living-room so I can keep an eye on you, and I'll have to gag and blindfold you." When I saw the disappointed look on her face, I added:
"Don't worry; you've got some sturdy furniture in there, so I'll spread-eagle you on the bed-room floor, just before I leave."
The look on her face brightened considerably and she bounced, there is no other word for it, to get the supplies she had in a bag in her room.
She wasn't bouncing anymore when she came back, but that was because the bag she was hauling was so bulky. She let go of it on the floor next to the easy-chair, and sat down on the floor with a thud. I opened it, and gasped; it was jam-packed with coils of rope and chains, marked according to length, cuffs, scarves, handkerchiefs; you name it, it was in there, in neat bunches for easy access.
"Erm, Amber;" I tentatively asked, "why have you got all this stuff?"
She smiled broadly: "So people have something to tie me up with, of course; silly! Now, come on; we haven't got all night, you know!" She crossed her legs, put her hands together, palm against palm behind her back as I picked out a couple of coils of rope, and got to work.
When I was done, she immediately started testing my work. I had a great time watching her trying to get to the knot in the rope holding her wrists together, and when that failed, in the rope keeping her crossed legs together. After finally having given up and admitting to me I had done a good job, I covered her mouth with a couple of scarves wound a couple of times around her head and securely knotted off at the side, followed by an entire roll of vet wrap. When I asked her to scream at the top of her lungs I could hardly hear a whisper, even though I could see her face turning blood red.
I picked up the last scarf and the last roll of vet wrap. I tried to look apologetic, I really did, but my big grin betrayed me.
"As much as I love looking deep into those fawn-like eyes of yours," I said, "I will have to cover them." She started protesting, but I silenced her, quite easily, by saying: "If I don't, you won't get the full 'hostage experience'; will you?"
She sobbed one last time and gave me a pleading look, before shrugging and letting me blindfold her, before turning on the TV.
Two hours later I untied her legs, and helped her on her feet and together, we walked towards her bed-room. In there, I untied her wrists and made her lie on her back on the bed. I snugly tied her wrists and ankles to the four corners, and sat beside her.
"Have you had a good time as my hostage?" I asked, and she growled affirmatory.
"Want to do it again; next time, maybe?" She growled again.
I looked at the clock on her night-stand, and saw it was time for me to leave. I kissed her lightly on the fore-head, whispered "Good night" in her ear, and tip-toed out of her room.
As I came to the front door, Ambers' parents came home. I explained the situation and assured them she was as comfortable as possible. They agreed to let her be, until they were themselves ready to go to bed, only checking on their daughter once in a while. I also told them she wanted to do it again next time, and they agreed to let me.