Erin's Predicament

Postby theseeker » Sun Jan 01, 2012 10:50 pm

Erin could hear her captors downstairs; those rotten, little schemers. Ryan's grating voice was drifting through the upstairs hall, Brandon's shrill giggles came from further away, in the kitchen on the first floor maybe. She could hear them both from her attic loft-turned-bedroom, and somehow, that made this whole thing even more infuriating. Her legs were still partly free—though bound at the ankles—and Erin intended to exercise that freedom in a display of frustration. She lifted her feet as high as she could while seated in the chair, and thrust them down onto the floor. She groaned. The soles of her bare feet colliding with the carpeted floor produced a less-than-desirable sound. She doubted either of them even heard it. Without many other options, however, she took a breath and did it again. And again. The soft 'thud's of her feet pounding the floor became rhythmic, and each felt better than the last, almost therapeutic.

Finally, she caught someone's attention. The 'creak' in the door leading up the stairs to the attic sounded. Erin froze, listening. “Knock it off, Erin!” Ryan's voice came, followed by a swift slam of the door.

Erin shouted a long list of angry words down at her younger brother, though the bandanna his little shithead friend, Brandon, had tied around her mouth absorbed most of the volume, and even Erin herself couldn't make out what she was trying to say. She bit down on the gag, digging her teeth into the fabric, and trying to work the knotted center out from her lips using her jaw and tongue. No dice. She couldn't believe the little creep had gagged her. She'd seen people 'gagged' on television plenty of times, never dreaming she'd be on the receiving end someday. It was worse than she could have imagined. The bandanna left a funny taste on her tongue after a minute or two, and had grown damp with saliva. That was super-gross.

She moved her bound wrists around behind the back of the chair, feeling the ropes rubbing against the sensitive skin beneath her palms. Curling her fingers and searching for a knot did nothing. This was that Brandon boy's work; she didn't like the little jerk from the moment Ryan started bringing him around. Erin's nostrils flared as she chewed on the gag and stomped her feet to the floor again. This wasn't right!

Her dresser had a long mirror running along the top of it, and turning her head to the left she could see herself in it. The sight was pathetic. Her arms were stretched around the back of the chair they'd tied her to, locking her bound and useless hands behind her. More ropes ran around her chest and stomach, pinning her in place. The fabric of her dark jeans was pinched and scrunched up at the knees and ankles where Brandon had tightly secured her legs. Her face looked horrible. Erin had her mother's auburn hair, which she normally kept combed and straight. Now it was in tangles and clumps, some of it tucked beneath the bandanna that ran around her head. Strands fell into her face, partially obscuring her sky blue eyes, with nothing she could do about it. Her lightly freckled cheeks looked pudgy where the gag pulled at the corners of her mouth, pressing deep into her skin. She looked so stupid with the gag in her mouth; the knot in the middle was big enough that she couldn't even bring her lips together.

All of this because of that Brandon boy.

Ryan was her younger brother, and in truth, they actually had a pretty close relationship. He had tied her up before, as she had to him when they were growing up. It was fun pretending to be a hostage, and breaking free to escape. Though he was getting a bit older now—Ryan was almost twelve—Erin didn't find it a strange request to play one of their old games again. Why not? It was a Saturday, and she was stuck home babysitting him anyway. When he asked if his new friend, Brandon, could come over, she thought nothing of it. He'd been there a few times, and though he was a year older than Ryan, he seemed quiet and respectful enough.

It wasn't until later, when she felt the knot tighten on her wrists behind the chair, that she realized this boy knew what he was doing. “Not too tight back there, alright?” She had told him, laughing a bit nervously at the end.

Erin wouldn't forget his next words: “We got her!”

Ryan's face lit up and he started clapping and giggling. Erin swallowed a lump in her throat and tried sitting up, but by then, Brandon was circling her body with the rest of the rope, tying her to the chair. “Okay, that's enough,” she told him sternly. “Brandon, stop it! Ryan!” She warned her brother when Brandon showed no signs of stopping. She gave him her best 'I'm serious' face, but Ryan only bit his lip excitedly and looked on with a gleam in his eyes. “You want me to tell Dad when he gets home?” That changed his expression quick: the old classic 'I'll tell' line still worked like a charm.

“Brandon...” he started, disappointed. “I guess we have to let her go.”

“My sister always says she'll tell,” Brandon pointed out, finishing up his rope work and walking beside her brother. “She won't.”

“I will, Ryan!” Erin shouted, growing angrier by the second with that Brandon boy. “Now let me out of this!” She twisted her wrists and realized her fate was completely in their hands; she couldn't budge. The little jerks had this planned from the start.“Right now!”

“When they start shouting you have to gag them. You have anything to gag her with?” Brandon questioned, nonchalant. Ryan's grin returned and he rushed off downstairs.

Erin was sweating by now, desperately twisted her wrists in every direction to try and find an out. There didn't seem to be one. Anger rose up in her belly, making her chest feel hot. “You little creep,” she growled at Brandon. “If you don't think I'm calling your parents-”

“My mom won't care,” he said and laughed.

“Untie me!” She yelled, trying to lean forward in the chair, but the ropes denying her that right immediately.

“You're even more noisy than MY sister!” He pointed out as Ryan returned with a blue bandanna. Erin stared at it in horror. “The trick with these is you have to put a knot in the middle, so it blocks their mouth up better.” Brandon explained, knotting the bandanna and circling around behind her.

“Ryan. Do not let him do this to me,” she warned, glaring at him and shaking her head. “You-” the gag fell over her head and got pulled tight between her lips and teeth. “MMPH! Germpher mermph mff MERMMMPH!”

“Isn't it awesome!?” Brandon cheered.

Ryan was giggling and jumping up and down triumphantly.

“Let's play X-Box!” Brandon said, and Ryan agreed, ecstatic.

They rushed downstairs laughing, leaving her bound, gagged, and forgotten.

And that was it. Erin stared into the mirror at herself, annoyed. How could she have let this happen?

As she sat chair-bound in her room—which was looking more and more like her prison, instead—a rumble sounded from her computer desk. Erin darted her eyes in its direction, and there she found her only chance at freedom. Her cellphone's top light dimmed down, and then rose again as it vibrated a second time; her text message alert. “GERMPH!” She cheered into the gag, sounding like a fool, but who cared? No one was around to hear her. She thought for a moment, her heart's pace quickening, and decided she only had one way over there.

She planted her feet firmly on the carpet, the little fabrics pushing up between her toes tickled, and put all her weight forward. The chair came off the ground, and Erin was almost standing, though the ropes binding her to the chair still held her in an awkward half-bent position. She concentrated, maintaining her balance, eyes locked on her phone, and began slowly but surely hopping her way across the bedroom. Each landing came with a horrific moment of teetering back and forth on bound feet. Erin was thin and agile though, and managed the short trek without a spill. A new problem arose when she got there, though. How was she supposed to use the phone? She needed to get it into her hands, that much was clear. Carefully, she began turning her back to the desk, trying to line up her grasping fingers with the phone. Her heels dug into the carpet as she spun slowly... slowly...

The chair bumped the desk—not hard, but enough to set her off balance—and Erin realized, in horror, she was going down. Her hands instinctively tried shooting out to protect her, but the ropes allowed no such thing, keeping them securely held behind her. The ground rushed up at her. Her shoulder and the side of the chair absorbed the fall. She grunted into the gag, more angry than anything. Now what was she supposed to do? Glancing up at the desk, she realized she hadn't even gotten the phone off it. Erin sighed. That was, as her friend Tim loved to say, an 'epic fail'.

But wait-!? The ropes around her chest felt loose. Erin looked down the best she could, and spotted the slack that had grown between her and her binds. She squirmed, using the carpet against her shoulder as leverage, and to her surprise- she moved upwards and partially out of the ropes! Growing excited, she began squirming and wiggling and jerking around, slipping herself out of the chair slowly but surely. In a few moments, her arms and chest were out, and not long after, she was pulling her bound legs and feet outside of the loops of rope that had once held her to the chair. Erin made a little cheer noise into the gag. She was partially free.

She clambered up to her knees. The cell phone was directly in front of her, eye level. She used her chin to sweep it off the desk. It landed with a soft 'thud' on the carpet, and Erin was quick to reposition herself until her bound hands were cradling it. Awkwardly, she did her best to hold the phone out to her side so she could look down behind herself at the screen. It was half-hidden by her chest, and hurt her elbows, but the view would suffice. She slid it out of 'lock' and checked the last text she'd received. It was her friend, Steph, asking what she was up to. That was good. Good ole' Steph to the rescue! Erin went to hit reply, but dropped the phone out of her sweaty, awkward grip. She grunted into the gag, leaned down, and scooped it up to try again. The typing window was already up. She squinted, focusing to get this right, and began. When she finished, she wound up with 'bro left me tied n gagged in bedroom. com save me. asap', but after reading it, decided to add, 'not a joke'.

Satisfied, she hit 'send'. The notification, 'message sent to all contacts', popped up. Erin stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded. That couldn't be right.

The 'creak' of the attic door sounded, and Erin shot her head up, wide-eyed and alert. Her brother's voice was giggling its way up the stairs. Not knowing why, but finding it important, she tossed the phone under the computer desk to hide it.

Brandon and Ryan marched into her room, and shared a stunned, joyous expression when they saw her knelt beside her desk, free from the chair they'd imprisoned her in. “Whoa! She's pretty good,” Brandon said. “I told you I heard something before.”

“How'd you do that, Erin?” Ryan asked.

She was livid with the two of them. “Merphmm grrrmm MM-mmph! MF! Germph fm-”

“What's she trying to say?” Ryan wondered aloud.

“Who cares? Let's HOGtie her!” Brandon cheered and began scooping up the rope from the downed chair.

Erin's eyes widened, her nostrils flared, she chewed down on the gag in her mouth. “MMPH! MM-MM! MM-MM!”

“What's hogtie? Can we let her talk for a little bit?” Ryan asked.

“Are you crazy! Gags were made for big sisters!” Brandon explained, kneeling behind her and looping rope between her bound ankles and bound wrists, much to Erin's muffled, furious, protests.

Beneath the computer desk, her phone was getting text message after text message from all the people she had accidentally let know her predicament.

Re: Erin's Predicament

Postby xtc » Mon Jan 02, 2012 2:28 am

Wonderfully constructed story. Thanks for posting.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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