Hi, I’m Gemma, I’m 13 years old, and this is my story:
It was a Friday afternoon, and I had just arrived back home from school. I unlocked the door, went in and took my coat and boots off. Suddenly, I was virtually tackled from behind, a rag was rammed into my mouth and a long piece from a torn off bed-sheet was wound around my head to keep it in place, followed by liberal amounts of duct-tape. A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I was swung around. When I saw who had attacked me, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Anthony, my twenty-five year old babysitter for the afternoon and evening, while my parents were at some kind of social function.
He took a good look at me, and said:”Well, well, well. Long time, no see, Gemma! You’ve grown quite a bit, since I last saw you. By my reckoning, it’s almost two years since the last time, if not more! My, my, how time flies. I hope the passing years haven’t taken away your fascination, for the kinds of games we used to play?”
When I shook my head, he said:”Good, because I’ve prepared a surprise for you! This way, if you please?” He grabbed my arm, and guided me into my bedroom. When I saw one of my leotards on the bed, I immediately knew what was about to happen. Without him telling me to, I took off my dress, and put it on. I looked in the full-length mirror and saw a slim, medium-built girl, with waist-long, thick dark hair, dressed in a grey, short-sleeved leotard and red, thick pantyhose. My face, from my nose down, was covered by brown tape, with white fabric sticking out here and there.
“You like what you see, don’t you?” he asked. “Well, so do I!”
I nodded, and went over to the high-backed chair, standing in the middle of the room and sat down. It had a rope already attached to the back of it, and I knew from experience, it was to be used to tie my crotch and waist to the chair. I spread my legs, so he could get at the ends of the rope. He took them, passed them through the slats in the back a couple of times, and knotted them off in front me. When he tugged at it, I squeaked.
“OK,” he said, “now, it’s time for your arms.” I crossed them behind the back of the chair and he tied them together, making a thorough job of it. Then he tied my knees and ankles separately to the legs of the chair.
Then, he stood up and admired his work. “Consider this a practice/refreshment-run. Take your time getting your arms and legs free, and I’ll be in this room, if need be. You don’t have to get out of the chair or anything like that. OK? GO!”
As soon as he said the word “go”, I started feeling around for the knot on the rope around my wrists. I found it, almost out of reach of my fingers. I started moaning as I tried to get a good grip on it, but eventually I more or less succeeded. Using only my finger-tips, I slowly managed to get the knot untangled, but not without my fair share of moans and casting of evil eyes his way. At one point, I had to stop, because I had to take a breather.
“Giving up so soon? Are you getting old?” he asked. “You’ve only been at it for half an hour. In your younger days, you would have freed yourself by now, and could have gone nonstop for hours on end!”
All I could do was snarl at him, but fifteen minutes later I had managed to free my hands, and from that point on, it was a fairly straight forward affair of loosening the loops, making sure I didn’t get entangled in them again.
After another quick breather, I attempted to relieve myself of the rope around my waist, but he stopped me by saying:”No! That, and the gag, stays put until you’ve finished the proper challenge. Go on to your legs now, please.” Annoyed, I did as he told me, only to find, he had hidden those knots in very awkward places as well.
Afterward, he went around my chair, reapplying the ropes. “From now on, it’ll be a ‘best of three’ challenge. Each time, I’ll give you a total of thirty minutes to get out of that chair. If you are unsuccessful two times, your hands will stay tied behind your back, until I go home. Is that a deal?”
I looked at him, contemplating the possibility of saying “no”, but now, the competitive side of me was awakened. I’d show him a thing or two! Calling me old?
The first time, he must have underestimated me or something, because it took me only fifteen minutes to get my wrists and legs free. The following two times, however, were a complete disaster. I could feel he had done something to the rope around my wrists, so that I required his help to get loose, each time.
“Now, that was a spectacular failure, now wasn’t it?” he said with a grin. “This means you’ll be my prisoner for the entire evening! Oh, joy!”
In the end, it wasn’t so bad, after all. The first thing he did, was taking the gag out of my mouth, but not before telling me, not to say a word, unless absolutely necessary. I agreed to that, and we spent a rather pleasant evening together, mostly watching TV. When it was time for bed, he released my hands, just long enough for me to get ready for bed. I put on my footie pyjamas and he tied my hands together, this time in front of me, and then to the headboard. My feet were tied to the foot-end of the bed, a bandana was tied over my eyes, earplugs were put in my ears, and I fell asleep like a baby, outstretched and unable to move.