So folks… hello. This is my first story, so please don’t be too harsh on me. (Unless you’re into that sort of thing…). Those who have read my previous comments elsewhere will know that, although I have a fair bit of experience with bondage, I have trouble serving up anything from my memory that constitutes a story. But after several weeks’ worth of consideration, I think I can recall some experiences that might be worth sharing. For those of you who like what follows here, the good news is: The forthcoming story COULD be Part One of a Trilogy.
By the way, sorry for the preamble. I can only defend it by stating that I think the situation merits full explanation, and also, the characters named here will reappear if I write again, so they deserve a full introduction.
One disclaimer before I start: My stories will never be 100% true. Or at least, you shouldn’t expect them to be. There are two main reasons for this. Firstly, my memory is rubbish. The chances of me perfectly recollecting something that happened months ago are thin on the ground. Secondly, I don’t have the permission of anyone in these stories to publish their actions and words on the Internet. So I have changed their names to protect their identity, and that goes for me too.
Done. On with the story.
Now, I’m sure you experienced folks don’t need me to tell you Rule Number One. Bondage (especially if you are the victim) should only occur with a person or person(s) you TRUST. That way, you don’t end up hogtied in the back of some weirdo’s truck, headed for the border.
But sometimes, you can get caught out. Sometimes, you are not careful enough. I mean, if you hadn’t had any fun in a long time, you’d be tempted to take a chance, right? Sometimes, a little trust is all that is needed.
And that’s when trouble can arise…
So there I was, sitting on a bench, in what was potentially a friendship saving discussion. You see, Gillian is definitely the weirdest of my friends. If you want to be friends with her, you need patience by the bucketload. She will offend you, upset you, annoy you, scare you and attack you– sometimes all of the above within the space of sixty seconds. There is simply no predicting what is going on from one moment to the next.
Unless you’re me.
Gillian was more open with me than almost anyone else. Certainly, I was the boy she was most open with. In return, I had (somehow) learned to read her. People were often amazed at how I could understand her. I could say things to her that nobody else could. I could interpret the meaning in her most random actions. There’s no denying she was an eccentric nutcase, but I was safe because I probably knew her better than anyone else. And although she didn’t even admit it to herself, let alone anyone else, for a very long time, she had fallen in love with me.
There was a major problem with this. I didn’t love her back. I have a girlfriend, who I love very much, and that’s not going to change. At the time of this story, this was a dangerous issue. Gillian’s feelings towards me were in the open, and my girlfriend was angry at her. They had previously been close friends. Sarah and I were working on that (you’ll hear from her another time), but at the moment, the situation was toxic. And that was how the relationship between Gillian and I started to go wrong. Previously, we had been in that “safe placeâ€. You know, a boy and a girl, good close friends, and free to be so, because there is never the complication that it might go any further. But now, I couldn’t give her the time of day unless I had good reason – my girlfriend, Rae, would be worried for my safety if there was not at least one other friend I could trust there.
And that’s how Gillian and I came to be on that bench on that sunny day. We had met Sarah and some of her classmates for lunch, but they had all left. Gillian and I had previously decided (by phone) that we needed to clear the air. And we took that opportunity to do it.
But this has gone on long enough. The salient point is this: I told her that I SHOULD be able to trust her, and I didn’t know if I did. I should be able to be tied up by her, without fearing that I was in any danger. (This was not a weird thing to say; it happened all the time in our group when we were closer). And there was only one way we could sort that – I had to see if I could let her tie me up.
But how could I go to her house without betraying my girlfriend’s trust? (Which was of course of paramount importance to me, even if not to Gillian). Well, we found a way around that, but you don’t need to know the details here. It has nothing to do with bondage.
Now, two more things you need to know about Gillian. Firstly, you’ll want to know what she looks like. Her eccentric personality is not helped by her distinct lack of height. When I first met her, I thought she was a good five years younger than she was. She also has dirty-blonde hair that sometimes reaches as far as her shoulders, and wild blue eyes. On this particular occasion, she was wearing a lilac top with a matching dress that was held up by a tie-cord that was so long she had to wrap it around the dress in intricate knots.
Secondly, she has a split personality. I know some people even in this day and age don’t like to accept the scientific existence of schizophrenia, but if they ever get to know Gillian well at all they will have no doubts. They are basically two human beings sharing one human body. “Gillian†is the collective term for the body, or whoever happened to be “out†at the time. The two personalities are Gill and Jill.
Just like any two distinct human beings you could name, Gill and Jill have their own thoughts, morals, beliefs, behaviours and attitudes. When I said Gillian loved me, that was true – both Gill and Jill did. But Jill had taken the whole fiasco with Rae decidedly worse than Gill, who was the one I was having all the contact with. Jill was irrational and potentially dangerous. Thus, it was Gill – and Gill alone – who was tying me to her bed as the bondage begins.
You might be thinking: “Hang on. Have I missed something? This was a girl that claimed to love you; a reason your girlfriend hated her, and you were happy to let her tie you to her bed?†Well, yeah. For a start, Gill and I had an understanding that she would never try and steal me from Rae – and this I did trust for cast-iron reasons. Also, it wasn’t abnormal to be tied to Gillian’s bed. It was about the only thing in her room you could be tied to, and I wasn’t alone – Rae herself had been tied to it more than once. (See story three, if I ever write it).
Gillian’s bed is a cabin bed; on occasion you could be tied to the small ladder, but it was more common (and comfortable) to be tied lying on it. There’s not exactly a lot of muscle on me to cushion the blow if I’m up against the ladder. Picture a starved-looking albino Harry Potter who has had his hair cropped short so that if you run your hand across it, it feels like Velcro – and that’s me. So I wasn’t very keen to be tied to the ladder – again.
Yes, folks I’d had experience of that. Sorry for going off at a tangent here; but the bondage in this story is quite short-lived so I thought I’d throw in some bonus material. At least this way I get to introduce Rae. Yes; it was her that tied me to the ladder; not Gillian.
What does Rae look like? Well, she’s younger than me, but you wouldn’t know it to look at us. I still need ID to get into clubs and she could’ve walked in to any bar in the city without needing ID since she was thirteen. She’s about as tall as me, but is much better built. She has quite thick brown hair now she’s growing out; back then she was quite short and red.
Oh, and Rae is an expert with ropes. I really don’t want to know how she got so good. Obviously I have some idea, (enough not to be suspicious), but I don’t need details. On this occasion she decided to be “lenientâ€. I was told to sit with my back to the ladder. First thing that happens? A scarf is looped around the front of my neck – and tied to one of the three rungs. This is not tight, but she’ll sort that later. Next, I have to twist my arms behind my back so that they are in a sort of reverse prayer position. Obviously it is hard to combine my wrists, and my elbows are nowhere near together. Good thing Rae had decided to be lenient, or they would have been forced together with the ties. Luckily, I was allowed to keep them apart, so my contortionism was not put to the test. Tying them so I couldn’t get away was all that was needed.
Next came the intricate part, at which Rae’s skill came into its own. Many loops and ties went around my chest, waist, arms, wrists, neck – and all three rungs of the ladder. Remember that “loose†tie round my neck? It had now been pulled tight and woven in with all the others, so that now I could not pull myself away from the bed without throttling myself.
Yup, I’m pretty stuck in that position. While 21 year old me is busy trying to figure out how to get out of that one, let’s deal with the questions. Why was Rae at Gillian’s house with me? Answer: We were invited. This was still the time when we were all friends. Where was Gillian at the time? Watching and learning, mostly. No point in her tying anybody up if she’s got Rae to do it for her. I say Gillian. I mean Gill. When Jill came out, it was a completely different matter.
Jill is not very experienced or mature when it comes to romance. Coming out to see Rae tying her boyfriend up was not what she expected to see. They had a conversation about it, in which Rae told her she liked tying me up. Jill couldn’t really understand this. She would now, but this was then. But back then she also was friends with both of us and somebody that I could be tied up in the presence of without having to worry.
Back to me and my puny attempts at escape. Whatever Rae had done to fix me there, I was no match for it. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Rae could resist a little tickle no longer. It was difficult enough to move, and now I was being forced to squirm and wriggle. The neck harness was restricting me; I wanted more air than I could get.
You will probably have noticed that Rae did not tie my legs. There was no real need – I was sitting on the floor on my backside with my legs out in front; there was no way the ability to move them would be any help whatsoever. What it did mean was that they were the parts that lashed about the most – until Jill decided she would get in on the act and pin my ankles down. Well, we didn’t want to attract attention by causing my feet to thump on the floor.
Jill is strong. She is much stronger than Gill, which is saying something, considering they have the same muscles. The difference? Jill knows how to use them. She knows how to get 100% efficiency out of each muscle she uses. There was no way pinning my flailing legs would be a challenge. However, why exert herself, after a few moments’ worth of pinning them with her wrists, she crawled over and sat on my legs. Ouch.
So now I was effectively getting double-teamed. Both girls were playing their part in my discomfort. That was until one tickle caused my head to snap back – and hit hard against the woodwork.
Cue Rae feeling really guilty, as she invariably does when she inadvertently hurts me or oversteps the mark. You may be wondering: “This was Rae being lenient?†Well, lenient said with a mischievous glint in her eye – you kinda know not to count your blessings until you get them when that happens. So, after making sure no visible damage had been done to my skull, she decided she would give me a chance. She untied one of the scarves. It wasn’t exactly the key tie, but it did give me just a little more movement. I now found that if I bent my fingers awkwardly in a certain way, I could just pick at one of the ties on my wrists.
That was all well and good, but I had a pounding in my head to deal with as well, which doubled the task as I tried to think straight. All the while I had Rae sitting beside me, looking at me as if I might collapse any second. As I struggled for the first couple of minutes, she offered to untie me, but I politely declined and eventually she saw that I was going to get out.
I could’ve decided to get revenge, but that would’ve been short and sweet. My tying skills do not match Rae’s in the slightest, and she is an expert escapist. So that little episode comes to a close. It has nothing to do with the first rule of bondage; I obviously trust Rae, and at that time if she had left me alone with Jill that would’ve been no cause for alarm. Nowadays, if I found myself tied at Jill’s mercy, getting molested but nothing else would be a result. Getting tickled and nothing else would be extremely lucky.
Back to the main story.
So, I was lying on my back, with the bed sheets under me and Gill sitting over me. She picks up a cushion bag – and I know what’s zipped inside. Just about every scarf, twisted handkerchief etc that she uses to tie up – or be tied up. But this is pretty much all I get to see. The contents are emptied; dumped on the bed somewhere near my feet – and then the cushion is thrown over my face. Gill has a theory that if a captor can see themselves being tied, they know how to undo the knots. So, I had to wait patiently as my ankles were locked together, and bound with a couple of coils of handkerchiefs that had been knotted together. Another rope of some sort was then tied around this, and the foot of the bed, to keep them in place.
After that, she ties my left wrist to the side of the bed – the railing that’s there to stop you falling out if you roll over. It is only one scarf, but she can finish it later – she now turns her attention to the other hand. Basically, she’s deciding where exactly on the beams she wants to tie my hands, before reinforcing it with more ties. As she measures it out to her satisfaction, so that you could now draw a relatively straight line connecting my two wrists at either end of the line with both ears at thirds along it, she now starts to tie a scarf round the right hand.
I am getting rather hot and bothered. The cushion is basically reflecting my breath back into my face; there is an admittedly pretty girl tying me to her bed, and she just happens to have sat over my groin, and her small but considerable weight is pressing down…
At least what I hear is reassuring. She has decided what she is going to do to me; given she could technically do anything. We agreed she could use her imagination, as that was the only real way to test my trust. But Gill often lacks imagination. She was simply going to sit and watch me squirm to get out. She expected me to get out myself – if I couldn’t I’d be there right up until it was time to leave.
Now I can feel something else being wrapped around my right wrist – the tier for one of her dressing gowns. This is one of the best bonds she has; scarves are quite slippy and you might be able to wriggle free given time. But that cord is not smooth; it is made of a thick, warm material, which means friction on the skin. It won’t slide off. She uses a third tie as well; and the second and third have been wrapped down my forearm as well as round my wrist and the beam, so now my elbow is in a tight sling as well. I can barely shift my right arm at all, and any movement I do get will not get me closer to escape.
At last the cushion comes off my face. “You can look to the right.†Gill says. I do. I’m not going to cheat; she has done my right arm – there’s no harm in me seeing it now. I like people to be able to trust me, even if I can’t trust them back.
But it turns out I can trust Gill. She has not taken advantage of the situation at all. It was about now that she even noticed where she was sitting, and rose up, so that she was sitting on her knees, and not sitting on me. She had realised the discomfort she was causing and had moved without needing to be asked. Bondage rule number 1 had been kept intact.
Then Gill closed her eyes; her head drooped like she’d just been hit. She shook it, and opened her eyes. She glanced around; taking in her bearings.
Gill and Jill might have the same body, but they have different demeanours, and anyone who knows them can tell which is which. Jill had realised that she was on her bed, and then she looked down to see –
The one person she wanted tied at her mercy more than any other. “Why was Gill tying you down?†she demanded.
I knew that honesty was the best policy. “We were trying to find out if I could trust her.†I knew I had to act casual. At the same time I said this, I was slipping my left arm out of the scarf, which mercifully Gill had left quite loose. I had just finished slipping it out when –
Jill grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the pillow. “You’re not going anywhere!â€