## 10 - Too Late to Play (m/f)

Post by canuck100 » Tue Oct 06, 2015 10:22 am

This is a repost of a story originally published by Silent Simon in March 2003
TOO LATE TO PLAY
As soon as I walked upstairs, I knew something was up. My brother Tim and his friends were supposed to be here, but when I couldn’t hear them, I knew there had to be a reason why. I’m Simon, remember? And the story I tell you now was when I was 12 and just beginning to understand the connection between ropes and gags and the funny little thrill I always got inside when I played with them.
Tim was three years older than me. He was the one who had started tying me up when I was kid, and then sometimes he and his friends would let me play. Eventually, me and my own friends started our own games, and occasionally we would all play together. We also had a younger sister Tiffany. By this time, she was my most regular victim, along with a couple of her sleepover friends. And then there was Lisa.
My brother Tim had this friend Robby, a rather mean-spirited bully who lived down the street. I had been tied up—most cruelly—by him several times. And Robby had a sister Lisa who was a year ahead of me in school. I knew that Lisa was a participant in Tim and Robby’s games, and I often wondered what it would be like to play with them—or really, with her when they weren’t around.
Lisa was slightly taller than me, very slender, and just beginning to get a shape that wasn’t quite so girlish. She had long blonde hair that she usually kept up in a pony tail, and enormous blue eyes. I loved her—or at least I had strong feelings for her that passed for love. I also wanted to know what it was like to tie her up like I did my little sister and her friends. In all the years of us playing, for some reason or another, I had never played with Tim and Robby when they tied Lisa up, although I was almost certain they did.
Anyway, like I said, as soon as I walked upstairs, I knew something had to be wrong. It was raining, so I knew Tim and his friends wouldn’t be playing outside. But there was no sign or sound of them. I put my backpack in my own room and began my search. It didn’t last long. I pushed the door to Tim’s bedroom open and looked in side, startled beyond belief at what I found.
Lisa was sitting on the edge of Tim’s bed, her hands out of sight behind her back, her legs tied together at the knees and ankles with several turns of white cotton rope. She was wearing denim shorts and a tight white shirt, and she looked fabulous. The sight of her was made more thrilling by the fact that a bandanna had been folded into a wide strip and tied around her eyes, so she had no idea that I was even standing there. Her mouth was spread wide around a thick roll of white dishtowel, her scarlet lips working to shift it out of her mouth, but I suspected that there was more to this gag than immediately met the eye. The little sounds she made were too muffled, and I guessed that a thick wad of cloth was stuffed in there somewhere. I had been a victim of her brother and mine too many times.
Walking quietly over to the bed, I sat down beside her and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She jumped, uttering a short scream that was lost somewhere in the folds of her gag. Then she nodded her head and moaned in the affirmative.
“Do you want me to take your gag off?”
Again, she nodded, and I reached up to untie the knot at the back of her head, letting the dishtowel fall into her lap, and then I plucked an enormous wad of handkerchiefs from her mouth. Once they were out, I unfolded them and counted three. I was amazed that they had left her like this. Lisa ran her tongue over her parched lips and said, “Can you get me a drink?”
“Sure,” I whispered, still not wanting to give away who I was. I slipped down the hall to the bathroom, listening carefully for any sound that might indicate my brother or his friends were coming, and filled the cup we always kept there with water. I hurried back to where Lisa was still sitting bound and blindfolded and held the cup to her lips. A little water trickled down her chin, but she drank most of it. Then she gasped for air. “How long have you been like this?” I said out loud, forgetting that I had wanted to keep my voice disguised.
She stiffened. “Simon?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Lisa actually blushed. “What are you doing here?”
“I just came home from Kevin’s.” Then I giggled. “What are you doing here?”
“Tim and Robby tied me up and then left me.”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know, maybe ten minutes or so.”
“Well, I didn’t see them when I came in.”
“They’ll be back.”
I looked around, trying to figure out a way to prolong this conversation, even this moment with the prettiest girl I knew bound and practically at my mercy, thanks to someone else. I picked up the handkerchiefs, which were damp from being in her mouth. “I guess I should put your gag back on.”
“Do you havmmmmmppppphhhh!” I cut her protest off, cramming all three handkerchiefs back into her mouth. Poking with my fingers until cloth filled every crevice between her teeth, I enjoyed listening to her grunting furiously against my gagging effort. Finally, I reached around her and clamped my left hand over her mouth while I pulled the rolled dishtowel up with my right. An instant later, I had the thick roll between her lips and bound again at the back of her head, and she was twisting in frustration, trying to kick at me but to no avail.
I smiled and said, “Sorry, Lisa.” As I backed toward the door, I added, “I just didn’t want them to find out I found you.”
That’s when a hand slapped over my mouth, and I heard Robby say, “Too late.” I knew I was in trouble.
Silent Simon