Complicated Knots
Chapter One (M/F)
Hours Earlier..."You know, you can be
so selfish sometimes."
If it was possible for a person to be simultaneously sarcastically blunt and enraged, then Katrina was a perfect example of that. Fists clenching and teeth gnashing, she immediately snapped back, "Oh, yeah,
I'm the selfish one here." The sarcasm in her voice was so blatant that it practically dripped from every word like rotten honey. "It's not like
you're the one who just decided on a whim to freakin'
tie me up or anything." Her voice was so tense that anyone who listened to it would gain back problems instantly.
"Hey!" her brother snapped back defensively, his cerulean eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Don't act like you wouldn't do the same, Kat!" At this, his older sister snorted, but he paid her no mind. "You know full well that at least three quarters of the shrimp is going to
Brianna, and I just don't want you to take the rest of it!" Turning away from her as he continued to rant, he rifled through the box he'd taken from out of the closet idly. "Mom said that there might not be more shrimp until late August!
I can't wait that long for shrimp, Kat!"Torn between rolling her eyes or roaring in frustration, Kat took the middle road. "So your first instinct is to
jump me? You have some serious serial killer tendencies there, Wyatt! Maybe you should get them checked out!" As she spoke, she drew her thankfully unbound feet up and pressed against the mattress to push herself into a sitting position, although it was hard with her bound hands.
Ignoring that last comment, Wyatt turned back to her, a scarf clutched loosely in his hands. After a moment's hesitation, he muttered, "I know you like to be tied up, you know," eliciting a groan and another eye-roll from the half-bound brunette. Glaring, he snapped, "I saw you screwing around with your friends. You were
happy!"Kat's responding laugh was somewhere between incredulous and pissed off. "Oh,
yeah, I'm
thrilled!" she snarled, jerking her wrists pointlessly against the scarves knotted around them. They were anchored to the somewhat ornate headboard of her own bed, pinned down on either side of her head. Unfortunately, although he'd been rushed while tying them, Wyatt had the common sense to tie the knots on the opposite side of the wood, so she couldn't reach them with her teeth, and each scarf was looped around a few times, so there was no chance that she'd be able to slip her hands out without the knots coming undone. Although a lifetime of athletics had done her body good, she wasn't strong enough to tear through the bonds, but no way would that stop her from trying, because she was
not going down without a fight.
Indecision flickered in Wyatt's face for a split second, and she almost dared to hope that he would untie her willingly, but the hesitation was gone as quickly as it'd come. "Sorry, sis," he offered semi-sincerely, his grip on the scarf tightening, "but don't think I've forgotten what you did to poor Marie on my last birthday. I'd say you could use a dose of being the victim for once."
Cursing that infernal birthday (how was she supposed to know Marie would take offense to being gift-wrapped? And, really, anyone with eyes could see that those two liked each other), Kat twisted her wrists pointlessly despite knowing full well that she wouldn't succeed in getting free. As great of a victim as he was, Wyatt was undeniably an even better captor, because that boy knew how to tie a knot. Still, she'd already decided that she wasn't going to go quietly, so, as he approached the bed with a few more scarves, she prepared to fight.
Wyatt wasn't as strong as she was, but that hardly mattered when her hands were already out of commission. With relative ease, he pinned her kicking jean-clad legs to the mattress with his own. Not sparing a glance at her face, which he was sure would be curled into a vicious snarl, he looped a bright scarlet scarf around her thighs about three times before running out of scarf. Knotting it off tightly and not feeling a shred of remorse when Kat hissed "Don't you dare!" from above, he then moved on to her knees, using two more scarves to knot them above and below just as tightly.
"Wyatt, I swear, if you don't until me
right now, this will be your last day on Earth," Kat growled, already fighting the scarves to no avail. Alas, her quarreling was for naught, because her little brother had little trouble securing her ankles in a similar fashion. After a brief moment of consideration, he chose to also bind her lower legs, since Kat's legs were rather long and it just looked weird to have that much space without any sort of restraint.
Pulling back to examine his handiwork, Wyatt had to admit that he liked the sharp contrast of the bright scarves against her dark-wash jeans. He was never one for subtlety, after all, and preferred his bonds to be in plain sight so that they could be more easily admired.
"Would you stop staring, you perv?" Kat snapped, breaking him out of his reverie. "That's incest, bro. Not cool."
Rolling his eyes, Wyatt ignored her for the most part, returning to the box sitting nearby. It was stuffed to the brim with long strips of cloth, primarily scarves. In all honesty, this wasn't his stash—he wasn't sure whose it was, as most of the teenagers had their own stashes around the mansion. But he'd stumbled upon it, a nefarious scheme had hatched in his mind, and he hadn't maintained the patience to go searching for his own stuff. This would do just fine, after all, and they were perfectly good bondage materials, so why let them go to waste when they were so readily available?
Pulling out a few more scarves of much more muted colors, he returned to Kat's bedside, disregarding the almost feral glower she was currently sporting. Seeing as how she'd propped herself up into a half-sitting position anyhow, he rolled with that, shimmying her wrist bonds up with some difficulty before tightening them so that they couldn't shimmy any more. "Let me
go!" Kat snarled, tugging at the harsh constraints, but to no avail. "Damn it, I said
let me go!"Tuning her out completely by this point, Wyatt hefted her up slightly so that she was fully sitting up, her hands tied directly on either side of her head. To cement the position, he proceeded to bind each of her elbows to the headboard right by her sides, putting a little strain on her shoulders but not enough to make him feel guilty. She threw her weight from side to side solely to hinder him out of spite, but he still had relatively few issues.
Glancing at her white tank top and black denim vest, he contemplated for only a moment before the rest of the plan came to him. Yet another scarf (whoever's stash this was had a truly impressive supply) was tied just below her breasts and around the headboard, and he added another around her hips, holding down her torso. As if reading his mind, Kat began to flail anew as she roared, "Don't you
dare, Wyatt, or
so help me—!" But it was no use. The second-to-last scarf in his hands was wound just above her breasts this time, fully pinning her in a way he knew for a fact had to be uncomfortable. But he had no sympathy; she certainly never had sympathy for her victims, so why should he have any for her?
This time, he didn't need to pause to consider his options; he already had this planned out. Reaching down with both hands at once, dropping the last scarf carelessly aside, he peeled off her socks, glad that they were short and didn't cover her ankles; otherwise, he would've had to adjust the ankle bindings, and that would've just been a pain. Turning away to mask his intent, he innocently folded the socks as if preparing to put them away, feeling Kat's wary gaze burning into his side all the while.
After a minute of tense silence, Kat began to ask, "What exa—"
Taking the opportunity, Wyatt surged forward and stuffed the bundle forcefully into her mouth, turning the end of her sentence into a faint
"Aaaghn!" Immediately, a howl of rage followed it up, and she would've shoved the large mass out with her tongue had her little brother not hastily whipped the last scarf of the bunch he'd grabbed around her face, knotting it tightly into her wavy brown locks. The socks were too big for the scarf to quite push back as far as he usually went, but it made it behind her teeth, and that was enough to render her speech an unintelligible jumble. Unlike a duct tape gag, this didn't press her lips together—quite the opposite, in fact—so he never got the standard "mmf" from her, but her enraged
"Aaaghr! Aaaaagn!" was more than sufficient.
Although he'd certainly enjoyed himself, that wasn't the primary purpose of this particular feat, so he didn't bother overlooking his work with the pride he normally would. Instead, he nonchalantly climbed off the bed, paying no mind to the frantic grunts from behind him. "Like I said," he offered, "I'm sorry it had to come to this. But, you have to understand, Kat...
I can't wait that long for shrimp."On his way out, he paused to consider the still-open box next to the bed. Peering inside, he saw a total of four scarves left. His gaze traveled rapidly between the more-than-secure form thrashing on her own bed and the invitation of the four remaining scarves, as if taunting him with whispers of
"Use us, Wyatt... you know you want to..."Shrugging, he grabbed them and made one last pit stop. A blindfold was hastily tied over her eyes, earning him yet another frantic snarl of dissent, and he tied two scarves together to make a longer strip before tying one end to Kat's ankles and the other to the footboard of the bed, forcing her legs to stretch out straight and eradicating any last hopes of movement she might've maintained.
And, with a devious smirk on his face to rival even Kat's, he tied the last scarf to the restraint around her waist, looped it through her legs, and pulled it taut.
A high-pitched shriek met his ears and he couldn't help but grin victoriously as he knotted it to the headboard as well, giving her even more incentive to just leave well enough alone. Normally, he didn't enjoy causing others discomfort, but his sister had certainly done much worse to him in the recent past, so he really didn't have the capacity to feel guilty at the moment. Not even as Kat twisted and turned frantically in her bonds, only to stop and try her best not to jostle that rope.
Oh, yes, she most definitely had gotten her just deserts.
"I'll come back for you," he vowed as he calmly padded towards the door, leaving his sister trussed up real good on the bed behind him. "You know. Eventually." It wasn't as if she hadn't left him to his own devices despicably long before.
And the door clicked shut.
As soon as she was certain she'd been abandoned and was therefore officially on her own, Kat began to squirm persistently, a muffled moan escaping her mouth. She dared not buck against the headboard, as that would pull the crotch rope even tighter, and it was already uncomfortable enough. Not that she would've gotten anywhere either way, but it had been nice to have the freedom of at least
trying to struggle. Pushing up against it for further leverage was also out of the question thanks to the rope fastening her ankles to the footboard, but her torso was already bound pretty firmly to the wood anyway. Twisting from side to side proved pointless, only making her shoulders ache.
She tried to wrench her wrists free, but she couldn't so much as shimmy her arms without somehow moving her torso thanks to the proximity of her wrists to her shoulders. Which wouldn't have been so bad had her torso not been, as she'd already discovered, very securely bound and rather useless. Any serious struggling would put too much tension on the waist rope, which would, in turn...
Growling quietly in frustration, she tried to pry her ankles apart, but she couldn't move her ankles without moving her knees and vice versa, and her legs were practically cemented together anyway. Thanks to the scarves holding the rest of her legs together, she was unable to get the proper leverage to even attempt to pull free of the bonds around her ankles.
Beginning to panic (when on Earth had Wyatt gotten so good at this?!), she pressed the back of her head against the elaborate wooden carvings behind it and violently rubbed the knots of her blindfold and gag along it, hoping to dislodge them or at least loosen them. No dice; all she succeeded in doing was tangling her hair into the knots. Her tongue, which had been harshly forced to the back of her mouth by the intrusion of the bundle of socks, pushed desperately at the invader in a futile attempt to dislodge it, but it was a pointless battle. The knots were too tight, pressing the socks in about as far as they could go without triggering her gag reflex, and she was embarrassed to notice a bit of drool dripping down her chin.
Her quiet groans suddenly morphed into a loud, enraged roar as she thrashed once violently, only for the waist rope to pull taut, and, in turn, the crotch rope. A squeal erupted from her mouth as she instantly stilled, sagging back into the headboard in resignation.
No way was she getting out of this one without help.
After maybe an hour of unbearable waiting intermixed with half-hearted wriggling, the door hastily opened and shut.
"Alright, Kat," came the voice that was decidedly not Wyatt, but much smoother and more feminine, "I figure that you're the best person to team up with early on, even if you technically were the first blood. So here I am being nice." At that, the blindfold loosened from around Kat's eyes and she blearily blinked them open to see a familiar gray-eyed blonde sitting on the side of the bed.
'Ashley.' Huh. Who knew the usually fairly quiet girl was such a strategist?
Even though she had a pretty good idea from both past experiences and the fact that she'd been referred to as the "first blood", the first thing out of her mouth when the gag came out was "What the hell are you talking about?"
The smirk was practically audible in her savior's voice, and Kat would've been able to detect it even if the blindfold hadn't been the first thing to come off.
"Well," Ashley trilled, "I guess you missed them, but some very interesting things happened at dinner today."
TBC...