Rick silently crouched behind some bushes. He looked through pair of binoculars, but not at birds or wild animals. Instead he was intensively watching Sanna coming out from the house, dressed in only a pair of red flip-flops, her pink and red bathing suit, a wide straw hat, and a pair of huge sun glasses. She sat in the sunlounger, picked up a book and started reading.
"I'll give it five minutes, ten at the most, before I make my move." he smiled. "She won't know what hit her."
In fact, Sanna was very aware of where Rick was hiding, but she decided she'd wait and see what he'd do. In fact, she had a little surprise of her own.
The game had started, when Rick came to spend a couple of days with Sanna and her family. They soon realized they both had a taste for tie-up games, it was just that they hadn't been able to play them as much as they would had liked to before, as none of their friends liked them. They soon agreed on the rules, which were: they could do pretty much anything, as long as no one got hurt, at least not too much; minor scrapes and bruises were acceptable, anywhere except the bathroom, any time day or night, except when they ate, and with anything, as long as the prisoner could escape within a reasonable time frame. Since they started, she had only worn bathing suits or leotards, and little else. Rick on the other hand, had only worn tank tops and bathing trunks or shorts. Neither of them had worn socks all summer.
Sanna used the cover of her sun glasses to scan the area, and soon saw where Rick was hiding, and she pretended to get drowsy and fall asleep.
When Rick saw this, he picked up his bag, containing several feet of rope, cuffs, chains, blindfolds and gagging materials. He got to his feet and started slowly walking towards her, careful not to make any noise. He stood in front of her and took a deep breath, before slowly opening the bag, taking out a pair of handcuffs and a ball with a string running through the middle. Giving her virtually no time to react, he rammed the ball between her teeth, and slammed the cuffs on her wrists in front of her body. He forced her to her feet, and led her towards a small playhouse Sannas' father had built many years earlier. He opened the door and pushed her inside, made her sit on the floor in one corner and, using a long piece of rope, tied her ankles together, making very sure the knot was almost, but not totally, out of reach of her fingers.
"Right", he said as he got to his feet, "the key to the cuffs is at the bottom of the chest over there." He pointed at a large chest at the other end of the house. "You may start, as soon as I've closed the door. And remember; as always, the gag has to be the last thing you take off!" He threw the bag over his shoulder, slowly turned around and went out the door.
He leaned his head against the door for a couple of seconds, as he started thinking about all the fun they, or at least he, had had these past weeks. In the beginning, he had felt a bit awkward tying a girl, especially one as beautiful as Sanna, up, or being tied by her, but now, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He looked through the window, and saw her trying to undo the knot.
"She hasn't done much progress." he observed, "I wonder why? The knot wasn't THAT hard! Oh, well; I might as well go back to the house. She knows I always come back if it takes too long. Besides, she'd get real mad if she realized I use to spy on her."
He started walking back towards the house, but didn't get very far. Suddenly, an arm was put around his neck, and he heard a woman's voice hissing in his ear:
"Where do you think you're going? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, boy; leaving a young girl alone, tied and helpless!"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. B!" Rick whimpered. "I won't ever do it again." Which was true, as he was going home later that day.
"Of course you will; next time!"
"Wha..." Rick stuttered. "Next time? What do you mean; 'next time'?"
"Stop it!" Mrs. B smiled. "You're starting to sound like broken record! Let me put it this way; There's always Christmas and New years; right? I think someone we both know would be devastated, if you didn't show up here for those. Don't you think so, too?"
"Mm; you're probably right."
"Of course I am! Now, I don't want my daughter to be left alone much longer, so you; start moving back!" Mrs. B put her hand on Rick's back, and shoved.
Sanna had almost managed to untie her ankles, when the door opened and Rick stumbled in, closely followed by her mother.
"Stop right there!" Mrs. B ordered. "You sit down beside her" she gave Rick a push so he fell, face first. He turned around and sat beside Sanna.
"No; I don't think so!" Mrs. B smiled. "You move to the other corner! That way you won't be able to help each other." She opened Ricks' bag, and took out a pair of handcuffs, and a long piece of rope. She cuffed his wrists together in front of him and tied his ankles, before retying Sanna.
"Right!" she said as she got to her feet again. "See you back at the house!"
A few hours later, Sanna looked out the window as Rick got in his parents car, now dressed in a white, floral patterned, sleeveless dress.
"There goes the best time I've had all summer!" she sighed.
"Is it him, or the game, you're referring to?" her mum asked.
Sanna turned around, and there were tears in her eyes. "Both, I suppose." she replied. "As far as I'm concerned, you couldn't have one without the other. They kind of go together from now on, in my mind."
Mum put hands on her daughters' shoulders, and looked her deep in the eyes.
"They kind of do; don't they?" she agreed. "So here's a suggestion: I could continue tying you up every once in a while. Obviously, it wouldn't be as often, and I probably wouldn't be as good as Rick who, clearly, is somewhat of an expert, but it would be the next best thing; wouldn't it?"
Sanna almost told her mother she didn't want to, but when she saw the eagerness in her face, she didn't have the heart to.
And so, the game continued.
From then on until Christmas, the following happened; as soon as Sanna woke up and saw a leotard on the chair next to the bed, instead of the clothes she had put there the night before, (which happened once a week at least, sometimes two or three) she knew she'd be turned into her mothers' hostage some time during the day or night, at least for a couple of hours. Or she could wake up to find her wrists, and sometimes her ankles too, had been tied to the bed frame. Then she knew she'd eventually be allowed out of bed, albeit with her hands now cuffed in front of her and still in her night gown, until her mother told her otherwise.