Summer 1966
Angela's Ordeal
Part I
My Sister's Suggestion
(mm/f)
Angela's Ordeal
Part I
My Sister's Suggestion
(mm/f)
On the last story, I decided to get back at Chester and Jay for their “going away present” just before we left at the beginning of summer for my great grandfather’s farm. It was part of our regular games, and so intent I was at revenge that I inadvertently let Andrew and David escape.
It was the last week of August. In a few days, on the first week of September, school would start again, and we were intent in making the most of it. Dad had wrapped up his typewriter lessons on Andrew and me as we already know the ‘basics’. So we spent the rest of the vacation playing. We biked, we swam in the local pool, we explored the woods outside of our small town, and of course, we tied each other up.
It was the morning of Wednesday, and we were still at home. David (10), Chester (10), and Jay (10) were stuck doing chores at their homes so they were unavailable, at least for the morning, while my cousin Donald and his sister Maggie and their siblings were taken by their family to shop in the local stores. That left Frank (9), who promptly came over, and Angela (9) and Henry (8), who came over at Betty’s, my sister, invitation. My younger siblings, John (6), Barney (7), and Lawrence (5) were taken out by my mother for a trip to the local playground.
Andrew (10), who, like myself, was a bookworm, buried himself in one of his books in his room. Frank and I (9), in the living room, debated on what to do. Henry soon joined us. It was such a nice day to spend cooped up in the house, but we cannot agree on what we should do outside, so we stayed in and played board games. Betty and Angela were playing dolls just besides us. All of boys were wearing shorts and t-shirts, while the Betty and Angela wore dresses that reached just below the knees.
“Why don’t you play with us?” Angela laughed.
“No thanks,” Henry replied for us.
“Well, if you can’t think of anything, I might as well tie you up,” Angela continued. “Remember when I tied you up the entire afternoon? Well, want to spend the day like that?”
“Oooh! I never knew that!” Betty interrupted. “Angela, talk! What happened?”
Angela recounted every detail of that long afternoon, which was posted in Summer-1966 The Long Afternoon, in the December 2002 archives.
We were embarrassed as Angela recounted to Betty and Henry what happened during that day. We simply listened for any falsehood or exaggeration. But the truth was embarrassing enough.
“So that’s why you were gone the entire afternoon,” Betty said. “You were tied up by a girl!” She then laughed.
“Watch your back, Angie,” I said. “We’ll get you back when you least expect it!”
“Well, why don’t you get her back now?” Betty asked, surprising us all. “I mean, I’m bored with my dolls now, and what better way to have fun than have Angela here tied up?”
All of us were flabbergasted.
“Betty! You Benedict Arnold!” Angela playfully accused. “I thought I could rely on you!”
“I’ll get the rope! Where do you keep it?” Henry volunteered as I told him to get it in my room.
“It’s in a bag besides my bed,” I told Angela’s little brother.
Frank and I walked and loomed over Angela.
“This isn’t fair! You two deserved what you got that afternoon!” she protested.
“Maybe, but since everyone agreed that you should be tied up, who am I to protest!” l laughed.
Angela sighed, as everyone turned on her. “Okay, but I’m only poor, and you won’t get much ransom for me!”
I had waited for this moment, and I was determined to make every minute count.
Henry soon returned with the ropes and I puller her hands behind her back. I wrapped white rope around her wrists before cinching it, making sure the ropes were secure and snug. In the meantime, Angela was talking with Betty like she wasn’t being bound! Time to put a stop to that.
I took a large handkerchief, wadded it, and offered it to her mouth. She looked at me with dagger eyes before opening her mouth to accept the wad. Frank had knotted a bandana, put it between her teeth, and tied it tight at the back of her head.
Now Angela was wrapped in a nice little package! She sat on the couch besides Betty, who kept talking as if Angela wasn’t bound, while she looked at Frank and me wide-eyed and had the expression on her face that said, “Now what?”
It was actually a good question. It was not planned, it just happened, and we were at a loss of what to do when she was actually tied up.
“So how long do you plan to keep her that way?” asked Henry.
“Until six or seven in the evening,” I replied, remembering that Frank and I were tied the entire afternoon. Not continuously, but not counting the moments where we were briefly untied then retied, it was long.
Angela grunted and protested, but we ignored her unintelligible muffled speeches.
Frank finished the job by tying her ankles and her knees above the hem of her dress.
We then tickled her. I went for her sides, Frank for her stomach, while Henry and Betty just watched. She laughed, but we were merciful and it was brief. We stopped, and Henry and Betty took their turn. We alternated tickling her for about fifteen minutes, always mindful to give her breaks so as to allow her to catch her breath.
By the time we were finished, she was red faced and exhausted and sweaty. She looked at us and we could she that she was already planning revenge on all of us for this ordeal.
After that, we had no idea what to do with her. We wanted to do to her what she did to us, but after careful consideration, we decided not to because we would get in real trouble if we did that because, well, she’s a girl, and, during those times, there are things that you can’t do to them that they can do to you without getting in trouble.
So Frank, Henry and I simply talked and discussed things, while Betty talked to Angela as if she wasn’t bound and gagged. I sat besides her while Frank sat on the floor just in front of me, and Henry sat besides me. It carried on until just before lunch, about forty-five minutes. All this time, Angela sat between us, forced to listen to our conversations without having a say. Poor Angela. It must have been torture for her not to make any contribution to the babble of words that was spoken.