## The Hostage Challenge

Post by EvilSweep » Fri Oct 20, 2017 2:37 am

Like everyone I have grown up surrounded by TV shows, books and films in which a bright, independent young ingenue is captured and placed in seemingly inescapable bondage by an evil villain. Indeed one of my first literary heroes growing up was the teen detective Nancy Drew who often found herself kidnapped and held for ransom. Most of the time these scenarios appeared far more exciting than scary and I had often wondered what it would be like to be tied up in her place.
Why am I telling you this I hear you ask?
Well, inexplicably I am currently in exactly the same fix as these fictional captives. To whit, I was thoroughly bound, hand and foot and with a gag between my teeth.
My name is Samantha, and this is the story about how I became (for a short time) an internet sensation.
At 5’9 I am somewhat tall for my age (or indeed for a human girl) with long blonde hair and a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Despite a pair of strong, dancers legs I am almost entirely lacking in natural grace. I snort when I laugh and when engaged in conversation, my hands take on a life of their own as they emphasize and elaborate upon whatever whichever theme has sparked my interest.
In short, I am a klutz.
If I were an animated character I would be the clumsy, short sighted flamingo, or possibly some distant relation to Big Bird.
Because of my height (I was almost a foot taller than my form tutor) I tried not to attract too much attention to myself, preferring to dress in as inconspicuous manner as possible. To that end I usually wore a blouse, or shirt with the collar buttoned, and a long skirt or pair of trousers. I called it librarian chic.
As you can no doubt imagine, my teenage years had thus far not been kind.
However none of this really explains why I am currently wrapped up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Well, perhaps I should start at the beginning.
It began innocently enough, as such things often do, it began,.. with a Youtube channel that I shared with my very best friend Emily (other video sharing platforms are available,..)
A video channel that, according to all available data, was failing.
Somehow we were both firmly possessed of the unshakable belief that writing/ staring and directing our own video platforming site would be the gateway to unspeakable wealth and fame and that our diaries were shortly to be filled with champagne, red carpets and all the awards we could eat. Sadly however our hopes of somehow becoming crowned the Queens of New Media were cruelly dashed when it became clear that no-one was actually watching our videos. Well, I say no one, we had managed to coerce, bribe and cajole friends and family members to subscribe to our feeble efforts, but despite massaging the figures to within an inch of their lives, the number of views attracted by our site stubbornly refused to move beyond the single digits. Indeed it would be no great exaggeration to suggest that our entire audience could easily have fitted into a moderately sized family car without much difficulty.
It was becoming increasingly clear that if were ever going to achieve our goal of being filthy rich, internet squillionaires, something had to be done. And quickly.
It was at this point we decided to open up the floor to suggestions. Or to put it another way, we began asking/ shamelessly pleading for dares from our viewer(s) in a video we entitled “Give us your views and we’ll do stuff (pg13 only)”
It was at this point we received our first piece of feedback,.. or to be more accurate, the first example of praise we hadn’t written ourselves under an assumed name.
It came from someone identifying themselves as Sidney Whiplash (whose avatar was that of a cartoon villain with top hat and pencil mustache – which was ‘a sure sign of trustworthiness’ according to Emily) and after some lighthearted pleasantries “You’re so funny. I love all your videos etc” he moved onto the res, as it were, by challenging us to take part in something called the “What you say?” dare, the rules of which he included (in great detail) at the foot of his post.
For the uninitiated, it was essentially a parlor game, in which participants attempted to communicate a specific word, or phrase to their team mate despite having a sock, or some type of scarf, tied over their mouths. It all seemed like relatively harmless fun and eager to please our biggest (nay only) fan we happily agreed.
For the video I remember that Emily used an old bandanna she fished out of the darkest recesses of the laundry basket whilst I used my school tie (which I happened to be wearing at the time). Between laughing fits we each managed to somehow make ourselves understood using a combination of mumbled grunts and, in my case some rather abstract mime.
It was only later that night, as the views pushed over a hundred that we realized we had an unexpected hit on our hands.
Soon enough the self-appointed club president of the UK branch of our fan club got back in touch to commend us on our efforts and suggest a few tweaks to the format in the event of any possible sequel.
The communique read thusly,
“Hey Girls. Thanks so much for filming my “what you say?” video, it looked like you were having tremendous fun. I was particularly impressed with the way Emily was able to understand Samantha when she said “Pride and Prejudice”, even if it sounded closer to “Prndm hnd Prmjhdngm” lol. However, I wondered if using your hands to mime the book titles wasn't cheating just a little? Maybe you could make a second version of the dare in which Samantha isn't allowed to use her hands? Just a thought. Keep up the wonderful videos. Your pal, Sid x
Emily, who had something of a pixieish sense of humor was quick to reply,..
“Dear Sidney, thank YOU for the dare and for the feedback. It would be typical of Sam to exploit a loophole in the rules to cheat. Maybe next time we could find a way to stop her ‘talking’ with her hands (*wink, wink)
Luv Em. Xx
His reply was certainly swift, appearing as it did, within twenty minutes of our post.
“Ha, ha! That sounds like a great idea Emily, maybe you could tie her up? x”
“This feels like a conspiracy. How much is Emily paying you?. Yours, Sam. x” I wrote under his comment.
However my best friend proved only too happy to enter into any pact that involved my ritual humiliation and quickly agreed (on my behalf) to staging a rerun of the dare under these new rules.
And so it came to pass that, with pride on the line (I had won our previous bout) I found myself shanghaied into taking part in a return leg, (the Godfather Part Two of dare videos if you will) with the caveat that I couldn’t use my hands for the duration of the task.
“Is there any reason I’m the only one getting their hands tied?” I asked, not unreasonably, a week later as Emily wrapped a bright red dressing gown cord around my slender/ bony wrists.
“You know why” She replied adopting a comically stern tone.
“Well, I could simply promise to keep still,..”
“I think we both know you’re pathologically incapable”
“You don’t trust me? I’m hurt” I said, sounding anything but.
“They say cheaters never prosper”
“Thus far that has really not been my experience,..”
“Will you quit complaining, you wouldn't want to disappoint our biggest fan would you”
“Of course not, but maybe you didn't need to encourage him quite so much with all your talk of ropes and gags”
“Nonsense. As we say in show-business, the customer is always right”
“I think you might be guilty of mixing your metaphors”
“Huffle-puff! The only thing I'm guilty of is loving (our public) too much,..”
“Ha, ha! Well, that and kidnapping,..”
Ignoring my pithy retort she pulled the material taut and tied a perfect bow.
“There. Perfect. How does that feel”
“A little snug. I feel like a rotisserie chicken. Where did you learn to tie knots like that?”
“The scouts”
“You were in the scouts?” I asked incredulously
“Well, I dated a scout leader for a couple of months,..” She replied enigmatically
“Ha, ha! That begs more questions than it answers,..”
“You know what they say, ‘Questions are a burden to others; answers a prison for oneself’. Which reminds me,..” At which point Emily stepped up behind me holding a bright red bandanna (which we had purchased earlier from the local supermarket for this specific purpose) “Open wide”
This was a new twist, last time round we simply tied the cloth over our mouths.
“Is that really necessary?”
“I think we both know the answer to that” She explained
Reluctantly I consented for my best friend to tie the cloth firmly between my teeth effectively gagging me.
I felt a shiver ran through me as the ends were tied tightly behind my head.
“There. that’s much better. Now, roll VT!”
“Who are you talking to? we’re the only ones here” I pointed out sagely
(although, admitedly it sounded closer to “Whh hrm nhh thlgnng th? Wm’rm thm hnln hnmf hmrm.”)
Ignoring me Emily signaled her (entirely fictional) camera man
“And,.. Action!” She said, as the light on her camera phone turned red.
This time the results were even more dramatic.
Over the next few days we were inundated with commentators (including the always reliable Sidney) expressing approval for our latest offering and supplying ideas for yet more dares.
The range of challenges was vast in range, encompassing everything from eating chili powder, to seeing who could keep a football in the air the longest, but when we tallied up the votes, the most popular suggestion (by far) was an escape dare called, rather ominously “The Hostage Challenge”
At it’s most basic, it would feature the two of us being tied up and competing to see who could get free the fastest. We both thought the idea sounded funny, if a little playful and so naturally so we decided to jump in with both feet.
The rules, such as they were, we cobbled together from a bunch of suggestions. It was to be a timed game in which each player would be thoroughly incapacitated then judged upon her ability (or otherwise) to complete a series of menial tasks (write ‘help’ on a piece of paper, call a family member on the phone etc,..) whilst tied up
Having gathered the appropriate supplies, (some old skipping ropes, a roll of silver duct tape and a handful of scarves) we gathered at my house after school to stage the dare.
I hadn’t bothered to change my clothes after returning from school and consequently was still dressed in remnants of my uniform which consisted of a white long-sleeved blouse, green skirt and matching blazer together with a yellow and green necktie. This unfortunate color scheme lead to the nickname of the Jolly Green Giant.
Emily, who was fearless in such things volunteered to go first. At this point I should probably describe my best friend. Captain of the netball team and champion shot putter, she was an athletic, if somewhat diminutive young woman with short cropped hair, bright red doc martens, ripped jeans and an old band t shirt that clung to her body like a second skin. Under her (close) instructions I tied her hands and feet as tight as I could (she insisted) before setting the timer on my phone.
Considering the amount of time she spent climbing trees in her youth it came as no great surprise that, even blindfolded, Emily wasted precious little time in competing her set tasks, and was free of her bonds in less than five minutes.
“Ta-da!” She boasted taking her bows before an imaginary audience,..
With the sound of applause ringing in her head she dusted herself down and began gathering up the binding materials
“Okay Champ, you’re up next”
Sharing little of the confidence of my friend It would be no small exaggeration to say I swallowed something cold and jagged as I placed my hands together as if locked in a set of invisible handcuffs.
“Do your worst” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel.
After all, unlike my friend (who I towered over) I was a tall, somewhat ungainly figure, with all the natural grace of an articulated lorry.
Emily held up a length of rope as though she were assessing it’s suitability for the task and swung it a little whilst affecting a jaunty tune.
I found myself frozen to the spot and emitted a nervous sounding laugh as my arms were drawn behind me. Struggling seemed a little undignified so I decided to preserve, what remained of my dignity by standing still and straight like a noble captured Princess.
I felt a strange, overwhelming surge of excitement as I felt the ropes tighten around my wrists before being knotted.
I was officially a prisoner.
“You’re pretty good at this I commented, off-highhandedly.
“I’ll take that as a compliment” She said flashing a suitably wicked smile.
Emily steered me towards the bed and helped me to sit down (itself no small feet with your hands behind your back).
Once there I found I couldn’t take my eyes off my best friend as she began to wind another coil of rope around my stocking covered ankles. I had never felt so utterly helpless, or so strange.
“Comfortable?” Emily asked cheerily when she was finished.
“Not exactly the word I’d use” I replied “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Who said I hadn’t? And now for the coup de grâce ,..” she said as she slowly began to loosen the knot on my tie.
“Hey, Em,.. what are you doing?” I asked, my cheeks reddening by the close attentions of my captor.
“You’ll see” She teased.
I was perversely grateful that Emily decided against unbuttoning my starched collar as she removed my school tie.
“Open up Sam”
“Hey! No fair” I complained stamping my bound feet “You never mentioned anything about a gag,..”
“Perhaps not, but since you are a notorious cheater how are we to know that you won’t simply chew threw the ropes?”
“One, is not amused” I said whilst looking pointedly over my shoulder with a suitably haughty expression.
I didn’t resist as Emily gently, but firmly, inserted the cloth between my teeth and knotted it behind my head.
For my shame I realized that I was sweating with excitement, but secretly loving every second.
In truth I was feeling extremely elated, which is very much the opposite of what a tied-up girl should be feeling. The scenario of being kidnapped was one that had always fascinated me ever since I had seen Tiger Lilly get chained to a polystyrene rock in a local am-dram production of Peter Pan. Indeed I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t fantasied about what it would be like to be taken hostage by pirates. And now here I was, thoroughly trussed up just like a character in some detective novel. It was thrilling.
“Are you okay Sam?” Emily asked, no doubt mistaking my rapture for discomfort.
“Hm'm fnnm” (I’m Fine.)
“And you think you can get free?”
Actually getting free was the very last thing on my mind, but it was important to maintain appearances.
“Hf ghhrfm! Dh nhhr whrft nhh fhhl brhgghrt!” (Of course! Do your worst you foul braggart!) I replied stoically.
At which point Emily placed a hood (pillow cover) over my head blindfolding me.
“Okay Sam, your time begins when I blow the first whistle,.. Will you start the fans please!”
Ten minutes later, I was stood, center stage and with my uniform disheveled and the ropes at my feet, taking my own bows as Emily roared her approval.
“Bravo! Bravo!” She cried happily
Although I had (eventually) managed to complete all of my tasks I wasn't able to come close to eclipsing my best friends time, however I was surprised at my own, deeply personal, reaction to the scenario. In truth I found the whole experience perversely enjoyable. Was it possible that I really liked being tied up,..
The thing that bothered me is I didn't know how to bring it up with Emily without sounding like a sexual deviant with ropes on the brain.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by my feelings I didn’t dare mention my imprisonment when we spoke the next day, (although I could think of little else) however when we checked our channel later that same afternoon we became increasingly aware that our latest video was a colossal hit. Indeed, within 48 hours we had well over 500 views and all at once we were inundated with positive feedback and further suggestions for dares.
We were (finally) an overnight sensation.
Emily was overjoyed, if, like myself a little perplexed by our sudden popularity.
We attempted to capitalize on our new found fame by posting further dares at regular intervals, videos of us taking part in the cinnamon challenge, flipping water bottles, eating saltines, but whilst they all drew respectable numbers, none of them came close to matching the Hostage dare, or to a lesser extent the two What you say challenge’s.
We were mystified.
At least, we were at first.
However sifting through our correspondence one late winter evening Emily had an epiphany.
“Hey Sam, have you noticed anything unusual about the messages under our videos?”
“How do you mean?” I asked nervously
“Well, it’s just lots of them seem to be written with just one hand,..”
“Ugh, gross!” I said, sounding both disgusted and quietly amused.
“And it looks like they all want to see you get tied up” She retorted
“Really?” I asked, careful not to appear too interested.
“Well take this message for example,..” Emily said, reading aloud from the screen on her mobile phone
“’Dear Bubble gum twins, I really luv yur videos. Can you do a dare where the blonde won gets hogtied and gagged wiv a dirty sock?”
“Charmed I’m sure” I replied, not entirely dismissing the idea.
“And this guy here ‘Shadowcat32’ really loves your school uniform”
“I’m glad someone does” I said tugging at the sleeves of my blazer.
“He says he wants you to ‘make an instructional video where you demonstrate how to put on a tie’”
“Instructional video. Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
I wanted to reply that no, it didn’t bother me, not in the least. Indeed I wanted to explain that few prospects were as pleasing as the opportunity to be tied up again, but my courage deserted me and I simply replied that ‘if they keep watching then I didn't much care what they do in the comfort of their parents basement’
But Emily seemed to detect the slightest of hesitations in my response “Sam. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
My eyes went wide and I hesitated out of nervousness.
“How do you mean?” I stammered
“Well, it’s just that, when ever we mention the escape dare you get the funniest look on your face, almost as if you had something to hide,..”
By now I was blushing very deeply.
With my red cheeks and bright green uniform I was in danger of being mistaken for a traffic light.
“I guess I had always wondered what it would be like,.. you know, to be tied up for fun”
There followed a period of intense silence so pregnant it was giving birth to triplets.
“Well,..? Don’t leave me in suspense. Did you enjoy it?”
“If I said I did, would that make me terribly weird?” I asked sheepishly
“Not at all. It’s far more common than people think”
“Really?” I asked hesitatingly.
Emily nodded, a huge grin plastered across her face. “I should know”
For a moment I was confused. Somehow I couldn’t imagine Emily playing the part of a demure damsel in distress. Then it hit me.
The scout leader. The references to rope tying badges. She couldn’t shake the suspicion that she had done much too good of a job tying her up for it to be sheer coincidence,..
All at once the curtain fell from my eyes and I realized the interest we both shared.
There followed a long period of, far more comfortable silence.
“Hey Sam” Emily began “I’ve been thinking,..”
“Should I be concerned?” I asked, trying to conceal the mounting excitement in my voice,..
“Well that rather depends doesn’t it?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, since we seem to have attracted a fan-base obsessed with getting you into ropes, why don’t we exploit this niche and give the people what they really want?”
“You intrigue me strangely,.. Go on” I said happily
“We could get the viewers to send us videos suggesting escape dares for you to complete, we could make it a regular feature,..”
Whilst, understandably thrilled at the prospect, I felt obliged to raise at least some form of objection
“But Em, in case you haven't been paying much attention, I both suck and blow as an escape artist”
“All the more reason that you should practice”
“Touche”
It was clear that I was dealing with a powerful (if twisted) mind.
“Okay” I caved, “When should we start? Practicing that is”
“Well, there’s no time like the present”
Reader, it was at this point I let out a squeal of delight. This was more than I could possibly have hoped.
“But maybe we’ll leave the camera off this time,..”
Last edited by EvilSweep on Fri Oct 20, 2017 7:08 am, edited 1 time in total.

### Re: The Hostage Challenge

Post by drawscore » Fri Oct 20, 2017 5:16 am

Please line space between paragraphs.
Every time the speaker changes, it's a new paragraph.
Drawscore

### Re: The Hostage Challenge

Post by Brashiel » Fri Oct 20, 2017 5:43 pm

A great start!

### Re: The Hostage Challenge

Post by xtc » Sat Oct 21, 2017 1:56 am

What an excellent first post. Bravo. Welcome aboard.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: The Hostage Challenge

Post by solarbeast34 » Sat Oct 21, 2017 2:31 pm

Great start. I can’t wait for the continuation of the story.

### Re: The Hostage Challenge

Post by EvilSweep » Fri Oct 27, 2017 8:25 am

Thanks for the kind words. I'm really glad you're enjoying this story,..