Thirteen Cents (M/F), parts 1-39
Such a marvelous fantasy. If only...
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
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Thanks for the words of encouragement, everyone! I'm going to be unable to write any more chapters for several days, due to other commitments, but I will be back. I'm not done with Courtney yet!
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Radames0674
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Take your time 
It's worth while waiting
It's worth while waiting -
iliketights
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 8
When I had sufficiently recovered and my trembling had ceased, he said, “Let’s see those beautiful eyes of yours.”
My blindfold was removed. He helped me to sit up and slid me a few feet so that I could lean back against the couch. I was still sitting on the floor, but it felt good to be able to sit up now that I was no longer hogtied. He began to peel away the layers of tape that were wound around my head over my mouth. When the tape was completely removed, he pulled the sock from my mouth. I asked for water, and he brought back a glass and held it to my lips.
“Please untie the elbow rope next,” I requested. He leaned me forward so he could access the knot. It felt so good when that rope was gone. It had been the most unpleasant of all of them.
He started to pick at the knot on my wrist rope, but I said, “Leave the rest of the ropes as they are for the time being. I want you to carry me to the bed. I just need you to hold me for a while. Unless you don’t have time.”
“There’s nowhere else I need to be,” he assured me with a smile. He picked me up and carried me. He placed me on the bed and put a pillow under my head. My hands were still tied behind my back, and my legs were still bound together at ankles and knees, but I felt so much better now. I was no longer hogtied, and my elbows were no longer painfully tied together. My blindfold and gag had been removed, so I could now see and speak. The remaining ropes still held me in their inescapable grasp, but I was no longer alone. Mike was here. I felt safe. He took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed with me. He held me for a very long time, and it felt wonderful. I was rendered a captive by not only ropes but also by his strong arms. I had no wish to escape! It only got better – before too long he kissed me. Tentatively at first, but he discovered I was a very willing participant. I much preferred having Mike’s tongue in my mouth than the pink sock. I longed to wrap my arms around him, but that was impossible. I had to be content with being held by him but not being able to hold him. And content I was - from the tips of my toes (which I was happily wiggling, enjoying the feel of my white tights) to the ropes that tightly held my arms and legs, to Mike’s strong arms, to his kisses … ohhh, I was one happy captive.
Eventually our lips parted to take a breather. Mike sighed happily and said, “We seem to be very compatible. Would you reconsider your earlier refusal, and go out with me sometime?”
“Mike, please don’t ruin what we have right now and just enjoy this. I already explained on Friday that I can’t go out with you as long as you have your current job.”
“Just one date – dinner and a movie. It’s not a major commitment or anything.”
I was beginning to get a little annoyed. “I think you had better untie me now. I’ve already been tied up longer than we agreed on.”
“Sure, all you have to do is agree to go out with me, just one time, and I’ll start untying you.”
Now I was getting more than just a little annoyed. “Mike, I’ve already asked to be untied. You’re now officially keeping me tied up against my will. Don’t make me submit a complaint about you to the Mr. Bond agency.”
“You may have noticed that I didn’t have you sign a contract today, like I did on Friday. This is my day off. I’m not here as a representative from the Mr. Bond agency. I’m here on my own time, so filing a complaint won’t accomplish anything.”
I was now beginning to get a little worried. “Mike, I think it’s terrible that you’re making my release dependent on my agreeing to go out with you. It’s a horrible abuse of power.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said. “You have to eat anyway, so why don’t you let me take you out to dinner? Plus, I let you pick the movie and the restaurant.”
“I said no. Untie me now!”
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he got off the bed and started walking toward the bedroom door.
“Where are you going? Don’t leave me!” I said in panic, thinking he was leaving the apartment. He returned in a few seconds, much to my relief. My relief was very short-lived however. In his hands were the saliva-soaked pinked sock and the roll of duct tape!
“Oh no, please! I don’t want to be gagged! Please untie me!”
He lay back down on the bed and gently moved some of my hair that had fallen over my face. He placed a finger on my lips and said, “Shhh, listen carefully. I don’t want to have to gag you again. I much prefer having access to those pretty lips of yours. I’m going to ask you again. If you say ‘yes’, then I will immediately untie you. If you refuse to answer, or if I hear any word other than ‘yes’, then I will have to silence you. Now, answer carefully. Would you like to go on a date with me?”
To be continued ...
When I had sufficiently recovered and my trembling had ceased, he said, “Let’s see those beautiful eyes of yours.”
My blindfold was removed. He helped me to sit up and slid me a few feet so that I could lean back against the couch. I was still sitting on the floor, but it felt good to be able to sit up now that I was no longer hogtied. He began to peel away the layers of tape that were wound around my head over my mouth. When the tape was completely removed, he pulled the sock from my mouth. I asked for water, and he brought back a glass and held it to my lips.
“Please untie the elbow rope next,” I requested. He leaned me forward so he could access the knot. It felt so good when that rope was gone. It had been the most unpleasant of all of them.
He started to pick at the knot on my wrist rope, but I said, “Leave the rest of the ropes as they are for the time being. I want you to carry me to the bed. I just need you to hold me for a while. Unless you don’t have time.”
“There’s nowhere else I need to be,” he assured me with a smile. He picked me up and carried me. He placed me on the bed and put a pillow under my head. My hands were still tied behind my back, and my legs were still bound together at ankles and knees, but I felt so much better now. I was no longer hogtied, and my elbows were no longer painfully tied together. My blindfold and gag had been removed, so I could now see and speak. The remaining ropes still held me in their inescapable grasp, but I was no longer alone. Mike was here. I felt safe. He took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed with me. He held me for a very long time, and it felt wonderful. I was rendered a captive by not only ropes but also by his strong arms. I had no wish to escape! It only got better – before too long he kissed me. Tentatively at first, but he discovered I was a very willing participant. I much preferred having Mike’s tongue in my mouth than the pink sock. I longed to wrap my arms around him, but that was impossible. I had to be content with being held by him but not being able to hold him. And content I was - from the tips of my toes (which I was happily wiggling, enjoying the feel of my white tights) to the ropes that tightly held my arms and legs, to Mike’s strong arms, to his kisses … ohhh, I was one happy captive.
Eventually our lips parted to take a breather. Mike sighed happily and said, “We seem to be very compatible. Would you reconsider your earlier refusal, and go out with me sometime?”
“Mike, please don’t ruin what we have right now and just enjoy this. I already explained on Friday that I can’t go out with you as long as you have your current job.”
“Just one date – dinner and a movie. It’s not a major commitment or anything.”
I was beginning to get a little annoyed. “I think you had better untie me now. I’ve already been tied up longer than we agreed on.”
“Sure, all you have to do is agree to go out with me, just one time, and I’ll start untying you.”
Now I was getting more than just a little annoyed. “Mike, I’ve already asked to be untied. You’re now officially keeping me tied up against my will. Don’t make me submit a complaint about you to the Mr. Bond agency.”
“You may have noticed that I didn’t have you sign a contract today, like I did on Friday. This is my day off. I’m not here as a representative from the Mr. Bond agency. I’m here on my own time, so filing a complaint won’t accomplish anything.”
I was now beginning to get a little worried. “Mike, I think it’s terrible that you’re making my release dependent on my agreeing to go out with you. It’s a horrible abuse of power.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said. “You have to eat anyway, so why don’t you let me take you out to dinner? Plus, I let you pick the movie and the restaurant.”
“I said no. Untie me now!”
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he got off the bed and started walking toward the bedroom door.
“Where are you going? Don’t leave me!” I said in panic, thinking he was leaving the apartment. He returned in a few seconds, much to my relief. My relief was very short-lived however. In his hands were the saliva-soaked pinked sock and the roll of duct tape!
“Oh no, please! I don’t want to be gagged! Please untie me!”
He lay back down on the bed and gently moved some of my hair that had fallen over my face. He placed a finger on my lips and said, “Shhh, listen carefully. I don’t want to have to gag you again. I much prefer having access to those pretty lips of yours. I’m going to ask you again. If you say ‘yes’, then I will immediately untie you. If you refuse to answer, or if I hear any word other than ‘yes’, then I will have to silence you. Now, answer carefully. Would you like to go on a date with me?”
To be continued ...
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Radames0674
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Nice cliffhanger:)
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iliketights
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Thirteen Cents, part 9
Of course I was going to say yes. To say anything else would be crazy. I really did want to get to know him better, after all. It’s true that his job bothered me. I didn’t really want to have a relationship with a man who ties up other women for a living. But, as he said, it was just one date. The worst thing that would happen is that we would decide we weren’t compatible and decide to never see each other again, at least socially (but even then I would still probably hire him professionally for more tie-up games from time to time!). Or, we might find that we were made for each other and begin the romance of the century. I could help him find more suitable employment later, if that were to happen. In any case, I was extremely ready to be freed from my bonds. Answering his question with a ‘yes’ was a win-win situation.
“Well?” he asked. “I’m waiting.”
“No,” I said.
“Wrong answer,” he said as he began to stuff the pink sock into my mouth.
What? I actually said ‘no’? My brain was screaming ‘yes’, but the first word (and the last word I would be able to say for who knows how long) to come from my mouth was ‘no’? I seriously began to question my sanity. He placed the end of the duct tape over my lips and proceeded to wind the tape around my head just as he had done earlier. Five times tightly around my head, or was it six?
“I meant to say yes!” I yelled, but the sock and multiple layers of tape rendered me almost mute. “Yes, Yes, Yes!”
It was no use. I couldn’t communicate with him now. I had one chance to gain my freedom with a single word, and I blew it. How long would it be before I would be given another chance to answer his question in the affirmative? I again tried to beg for another chance, but he misunderstood the purpose of my muffled entreaties.
“No use getting mad at me and yelling at me now,” he said. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t say yes.”
I gave up trying to speak. It was no use. I lay my head back on the pillow, exhausted physically and emotionally.
He walked over to the corner of the room where I had discarded the dress I had worn to church this morning. He picked it up and held it up for me to see. “Is this yours?”
I nodded. My conversation skills were now limited to answering yes or no questions. Even worse, I had no ability to direct what kind of questions they would be. How nice it would be if his next question was ‘Would you like to untied now?’, or ‘Would you like to reconsider your previous answer about going out with me?’, but he evidently saw no need to ask those kinds of questions in the near future.
“I like it. I bet you look really good in it. Did you wear it today?” I nodded.
“Oh, it’s Sunday. Did you wear it to church?” I nodded.
He picked up the tan pantyhose and held them up. “Did you wear these with it?” I nodded again.
“I wish I had noticed these nylons earlier. If I had, they would have been stuffed in your mouth instead of the sock. Wouldn’t it be fun to be gagged with the very same pair of pantyhose you had been wearing to church this morning?”
I shrugged. Fun didn’t seem to be the right word.
He tossed the dress back where he had found it, but walked toward me, still holding the pantyhose. I instinctively shrunk back away from him. Oh no, those nylons are going in my mouth! And they’ve been worn! Only for a little over an hour, but still, I was a little repulsed by the idea.
Wait a minute! If he’s going to switch gags, I might have a brief opportunity to talk! Maybe I can convince him that I really want to go out with him, and he’ll untie me! Thank heavens he saw the pair of pantyhose on the floor!
My hopes were dashed when, instead of peeling off the duct tape and pulling the sock out of my mouth, he suddenly tied the pantyhose over my eyes! I squealed and struggled in disappointment and anger, but my hosiery blindfold was tied securely. I was now unable to even plead with him with my eyes. He was still not finished. He rolled me onto my back and then helped me sit up. I heard the sound of duct tape being peeled from its roll. Before I could even wonder why he felt the need to gag me any further, the tape was placed over my eyes, right on top of the pantyhose blindfold. The tape was wound around my head, covering my eyes, in a similar way to my tape gag, but only two times over my eyes instead of the five or six times around my mouth. Not that it mattered – it was still just as tight. The pantyhose had allowed me to see some light, but now I was in total darkness. I was double-gagged AND double-blindfolded.
He was still not done. He must have decided to take advantage while I was still sitting up. I heard the sound of more duct tape. I could not imagine why he felt I needed more tape. My head felt like it was being squished by the gag and blindfold. But the tape was not for my head this time. He started winding it around my body, just below my breasts, and encompassing my arms tightly. My elbows were not touching, like before, for which I was grateful, but my arms were now practically immobilized. Before long, my arms were trapped against my back with tape from elbows to wrists. He even wound the tape around my wrists, over the rope, as if the rope that was already binding them together was not enough. He tore the end of the tape from the roll after many circuits around my body (I lost count), and I could hear him place the roll of duct tape on the nightstand. He gently placed me so that I was lying on my side again, with my head on the pillow.
My ‘no’ instead of ‘yes’ had cost me dearly. Instead of gaining my freedom I was now bound more securely than ever. I moaned weakly, hoping Mike would take pity on me.
To be continued ...
Of course I was going to say yes. To say anything else would be crazy. I really did want to get to know him better, after all. It’s true that his job bothered me. I didn’t really want to have a relationship with a man who ties up other women for a living. But, as he said, it was just one date. The worst thing that would happen is that we would decide we weren’t compatible and decide to never see each other again, at least socially (but even then I would still probably hire him professionally for more tie-up games from time to time!). Or, we might find that we were made for each other and begin the romance of the century. I could help him find more suitable employment later, if that were to happen. In any case, I was extremely ready to be freed from my bonds. Answering his question with a ‘yes’ was a win-win situation.
“Well?” he asked. “I’m waiting.”
“No,” I said.
“Wrong answer,” he said as he began to stuff the pink sock into my mouth.
What? I actually said ‘no’? My brain was screaming ‘yes’, but the first word (and the last word I would be able to say for who knows how long) to come from my mouth was ‘no’? I seriously began to question my sanity. He placed the end of the duct tape over my lips and proceeded to wind the tape around my head just as he had done earlier. Five times tightly around my head, or was it six?
“I meant to say yes!” I yelled, but the sock and multiple layers of tape rendered me almost mute. “Yes, Yes, Yes!”
It was no use. I couldn’t communicate with him now. I had one chance to gain my freedom with a single word, and I blew it. How long would it be before I would be given another chance to answer his question in the affirmative? I again tried to beg for another chance, but he misunderstood the purpose of my muffled entreaties.
“No use getting mad at me and yelling at me now,” he said. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t say yes.”
I gave up trying to speak. It was no use. I lay my head back on the pillow, exhausted physically and emotionally.
He walked over to the corner of the room where I had discarded the dress I had worn to church this morning. He picked it up and held it up for me to see. “Is this yours?”
I nodded. My conversation skills were now limited to answering yes or no questions. Even worse, I had no ability to direct what kind of questions they would be. How nice it would be if his next question was ‘Would you like to untied now?’, or ‘Would you like to reconsider your previous answer about going out with me?’, but he evidently saw no need to ask those kinds of questions in the near future.
“I like it. I bet you look really good in it. Did you wear it today?” I nodded.
“Oh, it’s Sunday. Did you wear it to church?” I nodded.
He picked up the tan pantyhose and held them up. “Did you wear these with it?” I nodded again.
“I wish I had noticed these nylons earlier. If I had, they would have been stuffed in your mouth instead of the sock. Wouldn’t it be fun to be gagged with the very same pair of pantyhose you had been wearing to church this morning?”
I shrugged. Fun didn’t seem to be the right word.
He tossed the dress back where he had found it, but walked toward me, still holding the pantyhose. I instinctively shrunk back away from him. Oh no, those nylons are going in my mouth! And they’ve been worn! Only for a little over an hour, but still, I was a little repulsed by the idea.
Wait a minute! If he’s going to switch gags, I might have a brief opportunity to talk! Maybe I can convince him that I really want to go out with him, and he’ll untie me! Thank heavens he saw the pair of pantyhose on the floor!
My hopes were dashed when, instead of peeling off the duct tape and pulling the sock out of my mouth, he suddenly tied the pantyhose over my eyes! I squealed and struggled in disappointment and anger, but my hosiery blindfold was tied securely. I was now unable to even plead with him with my eyes. He was still not finished. He rolled me onto my back and then helped me sit up. I heard the sound of duct tape being peeled from its roll. Before I could even wonder why he felt the need to gag me any further, the tape was placed over my eyes, right on top of the pantyhose blindfold. The tape was wound around my head, covering my eyes, in a similar way to my tape gag, but only two times over my eyes instead of the five or six times around my mouth. Not that it mattered – it was still just as tight. The pantyhose had allowed me to see some light, but now I was in total darkness. I was double-gagged AND double-blindfolded.
He was still not done. He must have decided to take advantage while I was still sitting up. I heard the sound of more duct tape. I could not imagine why he felt I needed more tape. My head felt like it was being squished by the gag and blindfold. But the tape was not for my head this time. He started winding it around my body, just below my breasts, and encompassing my arms tightly. My elbows were not touching, like before, for which I was grateful, but my arms were now practically immobilized. Before long, my arms were trapped against my back with tape from elbows to wrists. He even wound the tape around my wrists, over the rope, as if the rope that was already binding them together was not enough. He tore the end of the tape from the roll after many circuits around my body (I lost count), and I could hear him place the roll of duct tape on the nightstand. He gently placed me so that I was lying on my side again, with my head on the pillow.
My ‘no’ instead of ‘yes’ had cost me dearly. Instead of gaining my freedom I was now bound more securely than ever. I moaned weakly, hoping Mike would take pity on me.
To be continued ...
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 10
Pity was evidently not the first thing on his mind. No longer having access to my lips, he turned his attention to my legs and feet. He stroked my legs with his hands while covering my stockinged feet with kisses. It was obvious that he liked tights just as much as I do, but to be perfectly honest, I wished he was making out with me in a more traditional way. But, this was pretty darn nice too.
I was unable to see any clocks, but I estimate that he paid homage to my legs and feet for about fifteen minutes before he again asked me if I would go out with him.
“I can’t understand what you’re saying when you’re gagged, and I can’t see from down here if you’re shaking your head or nodding your head,” he said. “Hmm, let’s try this.”
He gently grasped the toes of my right foot and wiggled them. “When I ask the question again, wiggle these toes if the answer is ‘yes’.” He then wiggled the toes on my left foot. “Wiggle these toes if the answer is ‘no’. Do you understand?”
I wiggled the toes of my right foot. How strange this was that I was so helpless that I was reduced to communicating yes/no answers with my toes.
“Good,” he replied. “Just to make absolutely sure there is no miscommunication, wiggle your ‘yes’ toes. Okay, now wiggle your ‘no’ toes.”
“Excellent. Are you ready?” I wiggled my ‘yes’ toes.
“Courtney, would you go on a date with me?”
I wiggled the toes on my left foot.
If anyone is reading this, you probably think I’m totally crazy. I really did have a major crush on him, and I would love to go out with him. So what if I didn’t approve of his job? It was only one date. It would be fun, and he had assured me that there was no commitment. I had been tied up for quite a while now, and I was ready to be freed. There was really no good reason I could think of to decline. But that’s exactly what I did. I’m not even sure myself why I did it. Maybe because I was enjoying the attention he was lavishing on my legs and feet while I was indulging in my two most favorite things: bondage and tights. There’s something to be said about a hot guy making out with my feet. Also, maybe he was going to ask me every fifteen minutes until I eventually said yes. I would turn him down a few times before giving in.
“Oh Courtney,” he said with disappointment. “You insist on making things more difficult for yourself.”
He got off the bed, and within seconds I once again heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being peeled away from the roll. Where in the world was he going to add more duct tape? My eyes and mouth were covered in the stuff, and my arms were imprisoned by more of it. My legs were already bound tightly together by rope. I should have known that he would find a way to increase my helplessness. He grabbed my ankles and bent my legs until my heels were touching my butt. Duct tape was wound around my legs so that my legs were going to stay bent like this for the foreseeable future. When he was finished, my legs were immobilized even more than they had been when I was hogtied.
“There,” he said while he stood up. “You won’t be able to hop around and get hurt. It’s for your own good, Courtney.”
I was now about as helpless as a girl could possibly be, but I wasn’t too unhappy. Mike would soon give me another opportunity to be freed. Or so I thought. He proceeded to tell me that he was hungry, and that he was going to get something to eat! I tried to give him quite the tongue-lashing, but my tongue wasn’t going to be able to lash anything as long as the sock filled my mouth.
“Spare me the attitude, young lady. I gave you plenty of chances. I would have untied you and taken you with me, but you had to be stubborn. I’ll tell you what though, I’ll go to a fast-food place instead of a sit-down restaurant. That way I’ll be able to return sooner. Oh, and try not to squirm around too much. It wouldn’t be very fun to fall off the bed while you’re all tied up like that.”
I tried to beg him not to go, but I soon heard receding footsteps, the front door opening, closing, and locking. Surely, he’s playing a joke on me, right? He’s just going to hang around in the hallway for a few minutes, and then come back, untie me, and take me to dinner, right? I was getting hungry too.
The minutes ticked by, and it became apparent that he had indeed gone out to eat, and I could not hope to be rescued any time soon. This was the second time in two days that I had arranged for Mike to keep me tied up for two hours, and both times my release was much, much delayed. Why did I keep putting myself in these situations! I never wanted to be tied up again. I wanted to hate him for my current predicament, but I really had only myself to blame. I had asked him not to finish untying me, and then I turned down two more offers to be untied.
Mike had begun tying me up at 2:00. That seemed like a lifetime ago. My muscles were cramping. My bladder was starting to give me reminders that my last visit to the bathroom was hours ago. I was thirsty. I was hungry. Please come back soon, Mike!
To be continued ...
Pity was evidently not the first thing on his mind. No longer having access to my lips, he turned his attention to my legs and feet. He stroked my legs with his hands while covering my stockinged feet with kisses. It was obvious that he liked tights just as much as I do, but to be perfectly honest, I wished he was making out with me in a more traditional way. But, this was pretty darn nice too.
I was unable to see any clocks, but I estimate that he paid homage to my legs and feet for about fifteen minutes before he again asked me if I would go out with him.
“I can’t understand what you’re saying when you’re gagged, and I can’t see from down here if you’re shaking your head or nodding your head,” he said. “Hmm, let’s try this.”
He gently grasped the toes of my right foot and wiggled them. “When I ask the question again, wiggle these toes if the answer is ‘yes’.” He then wiggled the toes on my left foot. “Wiggle these toes if the answer is ‘no’. Do you understand?”
I wiggled the toes of my right foot. How strange this was that I was so helpless that I was reduced to communicating yes/no answers with my toes.
“Good,” he replied. “Just to make absolutely sure there is no miscommunication, wiggle your ‘yes’ toes. Okay, now wiggle your ‘no’ toes.”
“Excellent. Are you ready?” I wiggled my ‘yes’ toes.
“Courtney, would you go on a date with me?”
I wiggled the toes on my left foot.
If anyone is reading this, you probably think I’m totally crazy. I really did have a major crush on him, and I would love to go out with him. So what if I didn’t approve of his job? It was only one date. It would be fun, and he had assured me that there was no commitment. I had been tied up for quite a while now, and I was ready to be freed. There was really no good reason I could think of to decline. But that’s exactly what I did. I’m not even sure myself why I did it. Maybe because I was enjoying the attention he was lavishing on my legs and feet while I was indulging in my two most favorite things: bondage and tights. There’s something to be said about a hot guy making out with my feet. Also, maybe he was going to ask me every fifteen minutes until I eventually said yes. I would turn him down a few times before giving in.
“Oh Courtney,” he said with disappointment. “You insist on making things more difficult for yourself.”
He got off the bed, and within seconds I once again heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being peeled away from the roll. Where in the world was he going to add more duct tape? My eyes and mouth were covered in the stuff, and my arms were imprisoned by more of it. My legs were already bound tightly together by rope. I should have known that he would find a way to increase my helplessness. He grabbed my ankles and bent my legs until my heels were touching my butt. Duct tape was wound around my legs so that my legs were going to stay bent like this for the foreseeable future. When he was finished, my legs were immobilized even more than they had been when I was hogtied.
“There,” he said while he stood up. “You won’t be able to hop around and get hurt. It’s for your own good, Courtney.”
I was now about as helpless as a girl could possibly be, but I wasn’t too unhappy. Mike would soon give me another opportunity to be freed. Or so I thought. He proceeded to tell me that he was hungry, and that he was going to get something to eat! I tried to give him quite the tongue-lashing, but my tongue wasn’t going to be able to lash anything as long as the sock filled my mouth.
“Spare me the attitude, young lady. I gave you plenty of chances. I would have untied you and taken you with me, but you had to be stubborn. I’ll tell you what though, I’ll go to a fast-food place instead of a sit-down restaurant. That way I’ll be able to return sooner. Oh, and try not to squirm around too much. It wouldn’t be very fun to fall off the bed while you’re all tied up like that.”
I tried to beg him not to go, but I soon heard receding footsteps, the front door opening, closing, and locking. Surely, he’s playing a joke on me, right? He’s just going to hang around in the hallway for a few minutes, and then come back, untie me, and take me to dinner, right? I was getting hungry too.
The minutes ticked by, and it became apparent that he had indeed gone out to eat, and I could not hope to be rescued any time soon. This was the second time in two days that I had arranged for Mike to keep me tied up for two hours, and both times my release was much, much delayed. Why did I keep putting myself in these situations! I never wanted to be tied up again. I wanted to hate him for my current predicament, but I really had only myself to blame. I had asked him not to finish untying me, and then I turned down two more offers to be untied.
Mike had begun tying me up at 2:00. That seemed like a lifetime ago. My muscles were cramping. My bladder was starting to give me reminders that my last visit to the bathroom was hours ago. I was thirsty. I was hungry. Please come back soon, Mike!
To be continued ...
Last edited by iliketights 5 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
"Why did I keep putting myself in these situations!"
So we can keep reading about it, of course!
This continues to be a fun and entertaining serial and I look forward to more. Thank you for posting.
So we can keep reading about it, of course!
This continues to be a fun and entertaining serial and I look forward to more. Thank you for posting.
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Radames0674
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: 6 years ago
I enjoyed this Part very much 
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks Radames0674 and MaxRoper! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. I have another chapter almost ready to go.
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 11
For some reason I thought about my parents. Since going away to college, they were probably worrying that I was partying too much, not studying enough, etc. They needn’t worry about the things parents usually worry about. I was doing well in my classes. No, it probably didn’t occur to them to worry that their darling daughter was letting men tie her up, and that at this moment she was lying on her ex-boyfriend’s bed more securely bound, gagged, and blindfolded than they would have thought possible. What would they think if they could see me now?
I remembered one time that they almost found out about my strange obsession. I was in high school, dressed in my cheerleader uniform, bound hand and foot with rope. My boyfriend at the time, Travis, and I had been watching a movie while sitting on the couch. Well, we spent more time making out than actually watching the movie. Anyway, I looked at the clock and told him it was time to start untying me, since my parents were probably on their way home. I was partially free, except for the rope around my ankles, when we heard my parents’ car pull into the driveway. They were home a little earlier than expected! We both nearly had heart failure, and Travis was frantically trying to untie my feet. The front door opened, just as the rope came free. Travis shoved the rope in between the couch cushions just as my parents walked in. That was close. At least there had been a football game earlier that evening, so it made sense that I was still wearing my cheerleading uniform. Sometimes, as I said earlier, I would put on the uniform just for our little tie up games. Travis loved tying me up in my uniform! He especially liked the knee socks. On this occasion, I wouldn’t have needed to explain my uniform to my parents, but the rope would have been a whole other topic of conversation. Luckily, they didn’t see the rope, but Travis and I were sure red-faced and flustered. My parents looked at us very oddly, probably imagining we had been doing something worse than a relatively innocent tie-up game. I made a mental note to remove the ropes from the couch before my parents found them. The incident could have ended in a much more embarrassing manner, but I got off with nothing more that a stern reminder later that I wasn’t supposed to have boys over when there was no one else home.
My little reverie into the past helped pass the time, and soon after I snapped back to my increasingly uncomfortable present. I heard the door open. Mike came into the room (at least, I hoped it was Mike) and cut through and peeled away the duct tape that was keeping my legs bent in half. He’s untying me! Well, not quite. He didn’t touch any of my other bonds. He picked me up and carried me. I had no idea where he was taking me, until he placed me in a seated position on the couch.
“There you go,” he said. “Make yourself comfy. I got my food to go. I didn’t want to leave you alone longer than necessary. You don’t mind if I eat, do you?”
“Untie me first,” I tried to say, but my words were in no way intelligible.
“This is so much nicer than eating there. I can admire you while I eat.”
Just great. I’ve been reduced to being an object for him to admire. I was practically a piece of artwork that existed for his viewing pleasure while he ate. Yet somehow … I didn’t mind a bit. I felt kind of flattered, actually. I decided to give him a show by struggling. Not a “You had better untie me right now because I’ve had enough of this” kind of struggling. Not even a “Woe is me, I’m a damsel in distress, please untie me” kind of struggling, which was the closest to how I was really feeling. No, I gave him the “I’m your sexy bondage toy” kind of struggling. At least I hope that was how it was coming across. Maybe I was making myself look ridiculous. Fortunately, I was projecting the look I was going for. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed. “You are one hot, gorgeous tied-up girl! Work those ropes, babe!”
I soon grew tired of struggling, though. His hamburger and fries smelled so good! I was getting so hungry. My hours of tight bondage were taking their toll. I was still double-gagged, double-blindfolded, and bound incredibly securely with rope and duct tape. Even worse, my need to pee was becoming urgent, and I had no way of communicating that to him. How awful that would be if I wet myself. It would sure ruin the ambience of his dining experience.
Eventually he finished eating and asked me if I wanted to be untied. I vigorously nodded my head. “Don’t worry, it’s not dependent on you agreeing to go out with me. I’ve given up on that. I’ve tortured you enough,” he said.
He cut and peeled away the duct tape that was keeping my arms imprisoned against my body. To my consternation, he didn’t want to ruin his ropes by cutting them, as he had explained on Friday. That meant untying them, which took longer. He started with my legs. Even after my ankles and knees were free of their bonds, I kept my legs pressed together in an involuntary reaction to my need to go to the bathroom. He peeled away the tape that had been wound around my head over my mouth, and then pulled the sock out of my mouth and tossed it away. He started to pick at the tape that was stuck over my eyes.
“Please, forget the blindfold for now. Untie my hands first, and then guide me to the bathroom. It’s urgent!”
He did as I asked. It seemed to take forever. “Please cut the rope!” I begged.
“And waste good rope?”
“I’ll buy you some replacement rope later! Please, hurry!” I yelled, almost in tears.
“No need, it’s almost done,” he said.
My hands came free. I practically jumped to my feet despite my cramping muscles. “Please lead me to the bathroom. We have to hurry.”
Instead of guiding me, he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me. It was probably a good idea. We got there faster than if he had been leading me. He placed me on my feet inside the bathroom. “Please unzip my leotard before you go!” I said with great urgency. The zipper was behind my back. I could have done it with the usual amount of contortion, but I knew he could do it faster. “OK, thank you! Go!” I shouted. He ran out and closed the door.
I cursed myself for not spending the extra two dollars to buy the leotard with the snaps at the crotch. This leotard had no snaps, which meant I had to remove it completely in order to be able to pull down my tights. What an inconvenience that turned out to be! I frantically got the leotard off, then pulled my tights part-way down. I was now glad I had decided to forego wearing a pair of panties under my tights. Having to take the extra half-second to deal with even one more tiny article of clothing may have proved to be one delay too many. I felt around for the toilet. I won’t go into any more detail but to say I made it without one moment to spare. I almost cried from happiness.
I was still blindfolded, so I had to search with my hands for my discarded leotard. I pulled up my tights and stepped into the leg holes of the leotard. I eventually got my arms in properly. I washed and dried my hands and felt for the doorknob.
“Mike, are you there?” I asked.
“I’m right here,” he said as he held my hand.
“Could you please zip me up again?” I asked.
“Certainly,” he replied. He pulled up the zipper. He touched the tape that was keeping me blindfolded.
“Let’s just leave the blindfold in place for a little while, OK?” I asked. “I find it kind of calming. Just guide me to the couch. I’m going to need you to bring me a glass of water, and then I’ll need the best foot, leg, and shoulder massage you can manage.
“I can do that. Do you want me to carry you?”
“No, I need to walk a little.”
He took my arm and escorted me slowly to the living room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt safe. We arrived at the couch, and I sat while he went to get a glass of water. I then received the best full-body massage ever. It felt so good. I asked him what time it was.
“I was tied up a little over five hours? That’s almost exactly how long I was tied up on Friday. That seems to be my limit.”
“So … do you think if you had been wearing an adult diaper, I could have kept you tied up even longer?” he asked.
“Eww,” I exclaimed. “That’s gross. Don’t get any ideas. I don’t think I ever want to be tied up again, anyway. Thanks to you, I’m cured.”
“Didn’t you say that just two days ago?” he asked.
“Just shut up and rub my feet.”
We bantered back and forth for a little while, when he said he had to leave. “Do you want me to help with your blindfold now?”
“I know it sounds weird, but you can leave it on. I’m going to do some yoga to get my muscles working again. I’ll take it off after that.”
He pressed something in my hands.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s the coupon for one free bondage session. I wasn’t here on company time, so you can still use this later. Just in case you change your mind about never wanting to be tied up again.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I will keep it, but don’t get your hopes up.”
He stood up, bent down and gave me one hell of a kiss. “I can show myself out.”
I was alone again, but this time unencumbered by any bonds except for a voluntary blindfold. I started to stretch, and did yoga until my hunger couldn’t be ignored any further. I peeled off the tape, and then removed the pantyhose that had been covering my eyes. I fixed myself a salad and enjoyed the feeling of freedom. I glanced at the bondage coupon and smiled. Nope. I won’t be needing that. I was cured. The thought of being tied up again repulsed me. I felt free in more ways than one. I had conquered my addiction.
To be continued ...
For some reason I thought about my parents. Since going away to college, they were probably worrying that I was partying too much, not studying enough, etc. They needn’t worry about the things parents usually worry about. I was doing well in my classes. No, it probably didn’t occur to them to worry that their darling daughter was letting men tie her up, and that at this moment she was lying on her ex-boyfriend’s bed more securely bound, gagged, and blindfolded than they would have thought possible. What would they think if they could see me now?
I remembered one time that they almost found out about my strange obsession. I was in high school, dressed in my cheerleader uniform, bound hand and foot with rope. My boyfriend at the time, Travis, and I had been watching a movie while sitting on the couch. Well, we spent more time making out than actually watching the movie. Anyway, I looked at the clock and told him it was time to start untying me, since my parents were probably on their way home. I was partially free, except for the rope around my ankles, when we heard my parents’ car pull into the driveway. They were home a little earlier than expected! We both nearly had heart failure, and Travis was frantically trying to untie my feet. The front door opened, just as the rope came free. Travis shoved the rope in between the couch cushions just as my parents walked in. That was close. At least there had been a football game earlier that evening, so it made sense that I was still wearing my cheerleading uniform. Sometimes, as I said earlier, I would put on the uniform just for our little tie up games. Travis loved tying me up in my uniform! He especially liked the knee socks. On this occasion, I wouldn’t have needed to explain my uniform to my parents, but the rope would have been a whole other topic of conversation. Luckily, they didn’t see the rope, but Travis and I were sure red-faced and flustered. My parents looked at us very oddly, probably imagining we had been doing something worse than a relatively innocent tie-up game. I made a mental note to remove the ropes from the couch before my parents found them. The incident could have ended in a much more embarrassing manner, but I got off with nothing more that a stern reminder later that I wasn’t supposed to have boys over when there was no one else home.
My little reverie into the past helped pass the time, and soon after I snapped back to my increasingly uncomfortable present. I heard the door open. Mike came into the room (at least, I hoped it was Mike) and cut through and peeled away the duct tape that was keeping my legs bent in half. He’s untying me! Well, not quite. He didn’t touch any of my other bonds. He picked me up and carried me. I had no idea where he was taking me, until he placed me in a seated position on the couch.
“There you go,” he said. “Make yourself comfy. I got my food to go. I didn’t want to leave you alone longer than necessary. You don’t mind if I eat, do you?”
“Untie me first,” I tried to say, but my words were in no way intelligible.
“This is so much nicer than eating there. I can admire you while I eat.”
Just great. I’ve been reduced to being an object for him to admire. I was practically a piece of artwork that existed for his viewing pleasure while he ate. Yet somehow … I didn’t mind a bit. I felt kind of flattered, actually. I decided to give him a show by struggling. Not a “You had better untie me right now because I’ve had enough of this” kind of struggling. Not even a “Woe is me, I’m a damsel in distress, please untie me” kind of struggling, which was the closest to how I was really feeling. No, I gave him the “I’m your sexy bondage toy” kind of struggling. At least I hope that was how it was coming across. Maybe I was making myself look ridiculous. Fortunately, I was projecting the look I was going for. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed. “You are one hot, gorgeous tied-up girl! Work those ropes, babe!”
I soon grew tired of struggling, though. His hamburger and fries smelled so good! I was getting so hungry. My hours of tight bondage were taking their toll. I was still double-gagged, double-blindfolded, and bound incredibly securely with rope and duct tape. Even worse, my need to pee was becoming urgent, and I had no way of communicating that to him. How awful that would be if I wet myself. It would sure ruin the ambience of his dining experience.
Eventually he finished eating and asked me if I wanted to be untied. I vigorously nodded my head. “Don’t worry, it’s not dependent on you agreeing to go out with me. I’ve given up on that. I’ve tortured you enough,” he said.
He cut and peeled away the duct tape that was keeping my arms imprisoned against my body. To my consternation, he didn’t want to ruin his ropes by cutting them, as he had explained on Friday. That meant untying them, which took longer. He started with my legs. Even after my ankles and knees were free of their bonds, I kept my legs pressed together in an involuntary reaction to my need to go to the bathroom. He peeled away the tape that had been wound around my head over my mouth, and then pulled the sock out of my mouth and tossed it away. He started to pick at the tape that was stuck over my eyes.
“Please, forget the blindfold for now. Untie my hands first, and then guide me to the bathroom. It’s urgent!”
He did as I asked. It seemed to take forever. “Please cut the rope!” I begged.
“And waste good rope?”
“I’ll buy you some replacement rope later! Please, hurry!” I yelled, almost in tears.
“No need, it’s almost done,” he said.
My hands came free. I practically jumped to my feet despite my cramping muscles. “Please lead me to the bathroom. We have to hurry.”
Instead of guiding me, he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me. It was probably a good idea. We got there faster than if he had been leading me. He placed me on my feet inside the bathroom. “Please unzip my leotard before you go!” I said with great urgency. The zipper was behind my back. I could have done it with the usual amount of contortion, but I knew he could do it faster. “OK, thank you! Go!” I shouted. He ran out and closed the door.
I cursed myself for not spending the extra two dollars to buy the leotard with the snaps at the crotch. This leotard had no snaps, which meant I had to remove it completely in order to be able to pull down my tights. What an inconvenience that turned out to be! I frantically got the leotard off, then pulled my tights part-way down. I was now glad I had decided to forego wearing a pair of panties under my tights. Having to take the extra half-second to deal with even one more tiny article of clothing may have proved to be one delay too many. I felt around for the toilet. I won’t go into any more detail but to say I made it without one moment to spare. I almost cried from happiness.
I was still blindfolded, so I had to search with my hands for my discarded leotard. I pulled up my tights and stepped into the leg holes of the leotard. I eventually got my arms in properly. I washed and dried my hands and felt for the doorknob.
“Mike, are you there?” I asked.
“I’m right here,” he said as he held my hand.
“Could you please zip me up again?” I asked.
“Certainly,” he replied. He pulled up the zipper. He touched the tape that was keeping me blindfolded.
“Let’s just leave the blindfold in place for a little while, OK?” I asked. “I find it kind of calming. Just guide me to the couch. I’m going to need you to bring me a glass of water, and then I’ll need the best foot, leg, and shoulder massage you can manage.
“I can do that. Do you want me to carry you?”
“No, I need to walk a little.”
He took my arm and escorted me slowly to the living room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt safe. We arrived at the couch, and I sat while he went to get a glass of water. I then received the best full-body massage ever. It felt so good. I asked him what time it was.
“I was tied up a little over five hours? That’s almost exactly how long I was tied up on Friday. That seems to be my limit.”
“So … do you think if you had been wearing an adult diaper, I could have kept you tied up even longer?” he asked.
“Eww,” I exclaimed. “That’s gross. Don’t get any ideas. I don’t think I ever want to be tied up again, anyway. Thanks to you, I’m cured.”
“Didn’t you say that just two days ago?” he asked.
“Just shut up and rub my feet.”
We bantered back and forth for a little while, when he said he had to leave. “Do you want me to help with your blindfold now?”
“I know it sounds weird, but you can leave it on. I’m going to do some yoga to get my muscles working again. I’ll take it off after that.”
He pressed something in my hands.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s the coupon for one free bondage session. I wasn’t here on company time, so you can still use this later. Just in case you change your mind about never wanting to be tied up again.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I will keep it, but don’t get your hopes up.”
He stood up, bent down and gave me one hell of a kiss. “I can show myself out.”
I was alone again, but this time unencumbered by any bonds except for a voluntary blindfold. I started to stretch, and did yoga until my hunger couldn’t be ignored any further. I peeled off the tape, and then removed the pantyhose that had been covering my eyes. I fixed myself a salad and enjoyed the feeling of freedom. I glanced at the bondage coupon and smiled. Nope. I won’t be needing that. I was cured. The thought of being tied up again repulsed me. I felt free in more ways than one. I had conquered my addiction.
To be continued ...
Last edited by iliketights 5 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Radames0674
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: 6 years ago
Well, why do I doubt seriously, that the Damsel is cured???
Agreed. This addiction is not so easily cured (as we all know).
I loved the scene with Travis, the parents, and the cheerleader uniform.
I loved the scene with Travis, the parents, and the cheerleader uniform.
My addiction to this story isn’t cured, that’s for sure!
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks Canuck100, MaxRoper, and Radames0674! Yes, I don't think that an addiction can be cured that quickly. One day of binging/overdosing is probably not enough. Is there a 12-step program that could help the poor girl?
Anyway, I have another installment ready. I have been neglecting my real-life duties too much, because I love writing about Courtney! Maybe I need a 12-step program too.
Anyway, I have another installment ready. I have been neglecting my real-life duties too much, because I love writing about Courtney! Maybe I need a 12-step program too.
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 12
Monday passed fairly uneventfully. I had to wear long-sleeves and jeans to my classes to cover up the mild bruising and rope marks on my wrists and legs. It was winter anyway, so I was dressed appropriately for the weather. I still had an urge to roll up my sleeves to see if any of my fellow students would noticed the lingering effects of the tight bondage I endured yesterday. Perhaps I could stop by my favorite professor’s office later, and coyly point out a question I had from the book, so that he could see my rope marks. “Why Courtney, what happened to your wrists?” “Oh, nothing much. They were tied together behind my back with rope for five and a half hours yesterday. No, don’t be concerned. It was my idea.”
I snapped back to reality and concentrated on taking notes. My first three classes were done by 11:00, so I had time for lunch and a long walk around the campus before my last class started at 2:00. If felt so good to walk around after having my legs tightly bound together for so long yesterday. The memory was so vivid that I could still feel what I call my phantom ropes.
When I got back to Jason’s apartment, I stripped off my clothes and put on what was becoming my favorite outfit when I was alone: tee-shirt, a pair of panties, and opaque tights. No bra, no shoes, not even a skirt or shorts. I no longer had my bondage obsession, but I would never tire of wearing tights. This particular pair of tights were gray with a cable-knit pattern. I normally preferred flat-knit, smooth nylon/spandex tights, but these were nice for a change. The texture made a delightful sound as I rubbed my legs together. I was going to miss having access to Jason’s apartment. I couldn’t really dress like this in my dorm room without my roommate thinking I was really weird. She would really freak out if Mike and I had to do our tie-up games in the dorm room. Wait, what am I thinking? Tie-up games are a thing of the past. I had overdosed.
I had curled up on the couch reading a book when I got a text on my phone.
Mike: how r u?
I smiled. It was nice of him to ask.
Me: fine thanks
Mike: are you mad at me that your 2 hours turned into 5.5?
Me: no
Mike: I have no appointments tonight. want to use your coupon?
Me: no. I told you. I’m done with that. too much of a good thing I think.
Mike:
Me: you left the pink knee sock and some of your rope here.
Mike: I’ll be right over and use them on you.
Me: nope. I told you I’m done. next time I do laundry I will wash the sock and return it to you somehow. then you can stuff it in some other girl’s mouth.
He didn’t respond for a while. I stretched out my legs, crossed them at the ankles, and took a picture with my phone.
Me: I’m wearing these tights right now. do you like them?
Mick: OMG yes. I’ll be right over to tie you up.
Me: no
Mike: I’ll be right over to give you a leg massage then. it’s the least I can do.
Me: no. be satisfied with the picture. that’s all you get.
Mike: ok but let me know when you need a house call from mr bond
Me: I no longer need the services of mr bond. but thanks it was fun
The next day, I came back to Jason’s apartment after classes. My day was less hectic, as on Tuesdays and Thursdays I only have two of my classes. I had been thinking about Mike all day. I really wanted to see him again. I still had no desire to ever be tied up again, but going out on a date sounded very appealing. I worked up my courage and picked up my phone to send him a text.
Me: If you are still willing, I would really like to go out with you. dinner sometime?
I waited. I shouldn’t have expected an instant response. He has other things to do, such as his job. That gave me another pang of jealousy. He was probably tying up a cute girl right now. Anyway, I needed to do some laundry. I thought of him again when I saw the pink sock that had spent so long in my mouth. I couldn’t get him out of my mind no matter how I tried to keep busy!
After folding the clean laundry, including the now pristine pink sock which was no longer crusty from my dried saliva, I heard a notification of an incoming text. It’s Mike! Please don’t say that you’ve found someone else.
Mike: r u kidding? yeah I’m willing! you’ve made me so happy
Me: great! what day works for you?
Mike: wait a minute. I have to ask you out. I’m old-fashioned.
How cute is that!
Me: ok. ask me then.
Mike: it’s not that easy. first you have to be secured. then I ask, then you answer yes or no with your toes, like on Sunday.
What? Oh no. That word “secured” was deceptively simple. What the definition of “secured” would look like in Mike’s dictionary: arms and legs tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded.
Me: no way. I understood that our date would be a real date and would not involve me being tied up.
Mike: that is correct. I won’t tie you up on our date. I will however tie you up to ask you if you want to go out on a date.
No! This was not turning out the way I planned. I just wanted to go out with him – I didn’t want to be tied up again. Why did he have to make this so complicated? I felt like crying. It was probably partly my fault. I kept giving him mixed messages. I couldn’t think of what to say.
A few minutes later:
Mick: r u still there
Me: ok, you can ‘secure’ me and ask. but only if you promise to keep me tied up no longer than 15 minutes.
Mike: sorry, it’s not up to the captive to decide how long she’s tied up. I will decide that. I will however promise that it won’t be longer than your 5.5 hour limit.
I burst into tears. This was not the way I thought this conversation would turn out at all.
Mike: r u still there?
I turned off my phone completely and cried some more.
To be continued ...
Monday passed fairly uneventfully. I had to wear long-sleeves and jeans to my classes to cover up the mild bruising and rope marks on my wrists and legs. It was winter anyway, so I was dressed appropriately for the weather. I still had an urge to roll up my sleeves to see if any of my fellow students would noticed the lingering effects of the tight bondage I endured yesterday. Perhaps I could stop by my favorite professor’s office later, and coyly point out a question I had from the book, so that he could see my rope marks. “Why Courtney, what happened to your wrists?” “Oh, nothing much. They were tied together behind my back with rope for five and a half hours yesterday. No, don’t be concerned. It was my idea.”
I snapped back to reality and concentrated on taking notes. My first three classes were done by 11:00, so I had time for lunch and a long walk around the campus before my last class started at 2:00. If felt so good to walk around after having my legs tightly bound together for so long yesterday. The memory was so vivid that I could still feel what I call my phantom ropes.
When I got back to Jason’s apartment, I stripped off my clothes and put on what was becoming my favorite outfit when I was alone: tee-shirt, a pair of panties, and opaque tights. No bra, no shoes, not even a skirt or shorts. I no longer had my bondage obsession, but I would never tire of wearing tights. This particular pair of tights were gray with a cable-knit pattern. I normally preferred flat-knit, smooth nylon/spandex tights, but these were nice for a change. The texture made a delightful sound as I rubbed my legs together. I was going to miss having access to Jason’s apartment. I couldn’t really dress like this in my dorm room without my roommate thinking I was really weird. She would really freak out if Mike and I had to do our tie-up games in the dorm room. Wait, what am I thinking? Tie-up games are a thing of the past. I had overdosed.
I had curled up on the couch reading a book when I got a text on my phone.
Mike: how r u?
I smiled. It was nice of him to ask.
Me: fine thanks
Mike: are you mad at me that your 2 hours turned into 5.5?
Me: no
Mike: I have no appointments tonight. want to use your coupon?
Me: no. I told you. I’m done with that. too much of a good thing I think.
Mike:
Me: you left the pink knee sock and some of your rope here.
Mike: I’ll be right over and use them on you.
Me: nope. I told you I’m done. next time I do laundry I will wash the sock and return it to you somehow. then you can stuff it in some other girl’s mouth.
He didn’t respond for a while. I stretched out my legs, crossed them at the ankles, and took a picture with my phone.
Me: I’m wearing these tights right now. do you like them?
Mick: OMG yes. I’ll be right over to tie you up.
Me: no
Mike: I’ll be right over to give you a leg massage then. it’s the least I can do.
Me: no. be satisfied with the picture. that’s all you get.
Mike: ok but let me know when you need a house call from mr bond
Me: I no longer need the services of mr bond. but thanks it was fun
The next day, I came back to Jason’s apartment after classes. My day was less hectic, as on Tuesdays and Thursdays I only have two of my classes. I had been thinking about Mike all day. I really wanted to see him again. I still had no desire to ever be tied up again, but going out on a date sounded very appealing. I worked up my courage and picked up my phone to send him a text.
Me: If you are still willing, I would really like to go out with you. dinner sometime?
I waited. I shouldn’t have expected an instant response. He has other things to do, such as his job. That gave me another pang of jealousy. He was probably tying up a cute girl right now. Anyway, I needed to do some laundry. I thought of him again when I saw the pink sock that had spent so long in my mouth. I couldn’t get him out of my mind no matter how I tried to keep busy!
After folding the clean laundry, including the now pristine pink sock which was no longer crusty from my dried saliva, I heard a notification of an incoming text. It’s Mike! Please don’t say that you’ve found someone else.
Mike: r u kidding? yeah I’m willing! you’ve made me so happy
Me: great! what day works for you?
Mike: wait a minute. I have to ask you out. I’m old-fashioned.
How cute is that!
Me: ok. ask me then.
Mike: it’s not that easy. first you have to be secured. then I ask, then you answer yes or no with your toes, like on Sunday.
What? Oh no. That word “secured” was deceptively simple. What the definition of “secured” would look like in Mike’s dictionary: arms and legs tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded.
Me: no way. I understood that our date would be a real date and would not involve me being tied up.
Mike: that is correct. I won’t tie you up on our date. I will however tie you up to ask you if you want to go out on a date.
No! This was not turning out the way I planned. I just wanted to go out with him – I didn’t want to be tied up again. Why did he have to make this so complicated? I felt like crying. It was probably partly my fault. I kept giving him mixed messages. I couldn’t think of what to say.
A few minutes later:
Mick: r u still there
Me: ok, you can ‘secure’ me and ask. but only if you promise to keep me tied up no longer than 15 minutes.
Mike: sorry, it’s not up to the captive to decide how long she’s tied up. I will decide that. I will however promise that it won’t be longer than your 5.5 hour limit.
I burst into tears. This was not the way I thought this conversation would turn out at all.
Mike: r u still there?
I turned off my phone completely and cried some more.
To be continued ...
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 589
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
Great continuations! I can’t decide if I like the tights or tie bondage more.
Looking forward to what happens next!
Looking forward to what happens next!
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks TightsBound! I can tell by your username that we are kindred spirits!
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 13
Why had I become so emotional yesterday? I wasn’t sure. Partly because I was angry at Mike. I had reached out to him, and he had responded with certain conditions when he knew full well I had already been pushed to my limits. I was also a little angry with myself. I had been changing my mind too much and sending the poor guy mixed messages. But today was a new day. The thought of being tied up again didn’t seem as repulsive to me as it did yesterday. In fact, I started daydreaming about it. So much for conquering my addiction. Evidently, daily tie-up games were too much for me, but two or three times per week, well …
I turned on my phone during breakfast. There were several texts from Mike. Every one of them was full of profound apologies. Ahh, he’s so cute. I responded and told him that I wasn’t mad at him, and I just needed a little time to sort things through in my mind. He responded immediately, as if he had been waiting for me. He assured me that he understood. We left it like that for the time being.
Today was busy, as I had all of my classes plus my two-hour shift at the college bookstore where I worked. That evening as I was relaxing on the couch, I sent Mike a text.
**********
Me: u still owe me dinner out. u didn’t share any of your food on sunday. and I mean real restaurant not fast food.
Mike: my pleasure.
Me: we have to do this right. you have to ask me.
Mike: ok do you want to go out?
Me: it’s not that easy. I have to be ‘secured’ first. so secured that the only way I can answer your question is with my toes.
Mike: no you’ve been through enough.
Me: I insist.
Mike: are u sure?
Me: I insist.
Mike: ok but only for 15 minutes like you said. this time I insist.
Me: insist all u want it won’t do u any good. my toes will refuse to answer until a minimum of 3 hours have passed. my maximum of 5 hours still holds though.
Mike: well, actually your maximum is 5 and a half hours.
Me: pardon me mr. literal. ok maximum of 5.5 hours. but that’s pushing my limits. and no I don’t want to wear an adult diaper so I can go even longer.
(gosh, I sure hope no one else ever reads these texts).
Mike: if u promise to wear tights I’ll reduce the maximum to only 5 hours.
Me: that’s a given.
Mike: thanks Courtney. I can’t do this until Sunday. is that ok
Me: no, thank you. You’re the one who’s going to pay for dinner. Problem – my ex is coming back tomorrow so I will lose access to this apartment. Can I be held captive at your place
Mike: I share a house with three roommates. a little awkward. how about your dorm room.
Me: same problem. I have a roommate. I would rather this just be u and me
Mike: I will think of something. be sure to give me back the rope and knee sock I left behind.
Me: I’m sure you’ll find some use for them. I can’t wait for sunday to get here.
**********
Life is strange. It turned out that I didn’t have to wait that long.
To be continued ...
Why had I become so emotional yesterday? I wasn’t sure. Partly because I was angry at Mike. I had reached out to him, and he had responded with certain conditions when he knew full well I had already been pushed to my limits. I was also a little angry with myself. I had been changing my mind too much and sending the poor guy mixed messages. But today was a new day. The thought of being tied up again didn’t seem as repulsive to me as it did yesterday. In fact, I started daydreaming about it. So much for conquering my addiction. Evidently, daily tie-up games were too much for me, but two or three times per week, well …
I turned on my phone during breakfast. There were several texts from Mike. Every one of them was full of profound apologies. Ahh, he’s so cute. I responded and told him that I wasn’t mad at him, and I just needed a little time to sort things through in my mind. He responded immediately, as if he had been waiting for me. He assured me that he understood. We left it like that for the time being.
Today was busy, as I had all of my classes plus my two-hour shift at the college bookstore where I worked. That evening as I was relaxing on the couch, I sent Mike a text.
**********
Me: u still owe me dinner out. u didn’t share any of your food on sunday. and I mean real restaurant not fast food.
Mike: my pleasure.
Me: we have to do this right. you have to ask me.
Mike: ok do you want to go out?
Me: it’s not that easy. I have to be ‘secured’ first. so secured that the only way I can answer your question is with my toes.
Mike: no you’ve been through enough.
Me: I insist.
Mike: are u sure?
Me: I insist.
Mike: ok but only for 15 minutes like you said. this time I insist.
Me: insist all u want it won’t do u any good. my toes will refuse to answer until a minimum of 3 hours have passed. my maximum of 5 hours still holds though.
Mike: well, actually your maximum is 5 and a half hours.
Me: pardon me mr. literal. ok maximum of 5.5 hours. but that’s pushing my limits. and no I don’t want to wear an adult diaper so I can go even longer.
(gosh, I sure hope no one else ever reads these texts).
Mike: if u promise to wear tights I’ll reduce the maximum to only 5 hours.
Me: that’s a given.
Mike: thanks Courtney. I can’t do this until Sunday. is that ok
Me: no, thank you. You’re the one who’s going to pay for dinner. Problem – my ex is coming back tomorrow so I will lose access to this apartment. Can I be held captive at your place
Mike: I share a house with three roommates. a little awkward. how about your dorm room.
Me: same problem. I have a roommate. I would rather this just be u and me
Mike: I will think of something. be sure to give me back the rope and knee sock I left behind.
Me: I’m sure you’ll find some use for them. I can’t wait for sunday to get here.
**********
Life is strange. It turned out that I didn’t have to wait that long.
To be continued ...
-
iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 14
Thursday was my last day in Jason’s apartment. I had kept the houseplants alive so I considered my time here a success. After school, I came back to the apartment and changed into my usual ‘lounging clothes’- panties, tee-shirt, and opaque tights. Today’s tights were red. Jason and Abby were expected back around 5:00, so that gave me time to relax. I curled up on the couch and fell asleep almost immediately.
I was in a deep sleep, but I began to get the feeling that I wasn’t alone. Voices started drifting in my consciousness.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said she loves wearing tights,” a feminine voice said with a giggle.
I bolted upright and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Jason and Abby were standing there, looking down at me with big smiles.
“Oh, you’re back … what time is it? I must have really slept hard,”
“We came back a little earlier than originally planned,” Jason said.
I tried to cover myself with the small quilt that was on the back of the couch. “I’m so embarrassed. I would have put more clothes on.”
“Don’t be silly!” Abby said. “It’s our fault for being early. “You know, speaking of tights, I need to thank you. It’s because of you that I bought several pairs, and I’m kind of hooked on them too now. Speaking of which, …” she said as she sat down on the overstuffed easy chair, held up her booted foot toward Jason, and snapped her fingers. He immediately bent down, unzipped her boot, and pulled it off. She was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knees, and a pair of black opaque tights. She crossed her legs and held up her other foot. Jason unzipped and pulled off that boot too. He was turning into quite the foot slave. All Abby had to do was snap her fingers. He hadn’t been that deferential to me when we were dating.
Abby stood up and took off her jacket. “Also, I have you to thank you, Courtney, for introducing me to tie-up games. Jason and I have had some fun with that this week. Speaking of which, …” she said as she snapped her fingers again and pointed to an overnight bag. Jason obediently picked it up and unzipped it, and pulled out a coil of rope! Abby turned her back to him, crossed her wrists behind her, and waited. He started tying her up! More rope made its appearance from the bag. I couldn’t believe my eyes – he was tying her up right in front of me! It’s like they forgot I was there. I should have excused myself and left to change clothes and pack my bags, but I was mesmerized. I had never seen another girl getting tied up in real life – just in bondage videos I’ve watched online. Watching a girl getting tied up was almost as good as getting tied up myself. Almost.
“Could you take off my skirt, please? Courtney looks so comfortable without hers,” Abby asked. Jason finished tying her hands behind her back, and then unzipped and pulled her skirt down. She stepped out of her skirt and sat down again.
He continued to bind Abby until her legs were well secured with rope. She was sitting on the edge of the chair testing her bonds. She was obviously not interested in decorative or playful bondage. She was tied up beyond all hope of freeing herself. She looked so pretty sitting there, squirming in her tight bonds.
“Oh my gosh,” said Abby. “We’re so rude. We forgot about our guest. Jason, where are your manners? Ask her if she wants to be tied up too.”
Before I could respond, Jason said, “Oh, yes Courtney. Sorry. Would you like to be tied up too?”
“No, I’m good. I don’t want to be the third wheel. You two are having fun. I really should be going and let you two do your thing. Thanks anyway.”
“You know you want to,” Abby said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“No, really …”
“Courtney,” Jason said, interrupting me. “Get over here right now and put your hands behind your back.”
He spoke with such authority that all my resolve melted. “OK,” I said, standing up and putting down the quilt. “I’ll just go put on a pair of shorts and be back in a …”
Jason interrupted me again. “What part of ‘right now’ did you not understand? Get over here. Or must I come get you?”
“I think you better do what he says,” Abby said. “He was a track star in high school. I don’t think you could outrun him. I know I certainly can’t right now!”
I meekly walked over to Jason, turned my back to him, and put my hands behind me. He grasped my wrists, pulling them back farther, and crossed them. He began to bind the rope tightly around my wrists, and I got that fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever someone started to tie me up. I really shouldn’t be doing this! I felt like I was cheating on Mike. But, Mike and I were not a couple – we haven’t even been on one date yet. Besides, Jason didn’t really give me much choice. I was being tied up against my will, mostly. And, come to think of it, even if I had a boyfriend, is getting tied up by someone else really considered cheating? It’s a tie-up game, not sex. I was mulling this all over in my head, trying to decide if I had done anything to be ashamed of, when it all became a moot point anyway. Jason had finished tying my wrists together, and a quick check told me that there was no way I was going to free them on my own. In a way, I was glad. Now, whatever happened, I had no control over the situation, so therefore there was no need to feel any guilt (although I probably should have protested more!).
Jason told me to sit on the floor and stretch my legs out in front of me. I was leaning against the easy chair, and Abby’s bound-together legs were touching my left arm. I couldn’t help but notice what nice legs she had. Her tights felt nice against my arm.
“Make sure you tie her securely,” she said with a giggle. “We don’t want her running away, do we?” How strange is this, I thought to myself, that she’s watching her boyfriend tie up another girl and she doesn’t act jealous at all, in fact she seems to be enjoying it. And he’s not just tying up another girl, but a former girlfriend of his. And not just a former girlfriend, but a former girlfriend who’s practically in her underwear. Well, not ‘practically’ in my underwear. I’m literally in my underwear! My tights are opaque, but I (and the other two people in the room) can clearly see my panties under them. My tee-shirt can hardly be called a shirt at all – it doesn’t even reach the waistband of my tights. Hmm, I began to wonder if tights are really undergarments. Surely, they would qualify as both underwear and outerwear, wouldn’t they?
By the time I pondered the classification of tights, he had already bound rope around my legs just above my knees. Abby was slowly rubbing her legs against my arm. I tilted my head and rested my cheek on her tights-covered thigh. “Nice tights, Abby,” I said.
“Yours too, Courtney! I love the color. Jason, add red tights to our shopping list. When Jason decides to let us go, if he decides to let us go, we’re going to have to massage each other’s legs.”
“Yes,” I said and gave her leg a little kiss. “We’re really going to need it.” I enjoyed how her tights felt against my lips! I have no idea why I kissed her leg, but she didn’t seem to think it was weird.
“Thanks. I wish I could kiss your legs too. I’ll have to do that later. Your tights look so pretty and smooth,” she responded.
“You two are having the weirdest conversation. I would gag you both right now, but I’m kind of getting turned on hearing you both admiring each other’s legs,” Jason said, as he began to tie my ankles together.
“That reminds me,” Abby said. “Please don’t gag us. I’m dying to hear about Courtney’s appointment with Mr. Bond.”
“OK, no gags this time,” Jason said. He held my stocking feet in his hands, thumbs on my soles and fingers on top, and gave me a foot rub. “How’s that? Too tight?”
I tried to move my legs independently, but there was no slack at all at either knees or ankles. “Pretty darn tight. Just the way I like it!” I told him.
“Excellent,” Jason said. “Time for stage two.”
“What is stage two?” Abby asked
“You will soon find out,” he answered. He pulled her off the chair and helped her stand. “Just take a couple of hops to the middle of the floor now. Very good. Now I’m going to lower you so that you’re on your knees.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously.
“Just be patient. Now, stay there.”
I noticed that neither one of us had our arms secured in any way, except for the rope around our wrists. He shouldn’t make such a rookie mistake. We could easily curl up in a ball and move our bound wrists down past our feet and then in front of us. We could then easily hop to the kitchen and get a knife to cut ourselves free, or use our teeth to loosen the knots.
He picked me up and carried me to where Abby was, and placed me down on my knees in front of her. He went back to his bondage bag and brought back a wide roll of duct tape. He put his hands on my waist and lifted me slightly and moved me even closer to Abby until we were touching, face-to-face.
“Jason, what are you doing?” Abby demanded to know.
Instead of replying, he began to wind the tape around our bodies, just below our shoulders. Each circuit of tape crushed us tighter together.
“Jason, stop! What are you doing?” Abby yelled.
He ignored her pleas. He continued to make overlapping bands of tape, working his way down our bodies. Now I knew why he hadn’t bothered to secure our arms better earlier. By the time he reached our waists and wound the tape several more times around us, our arms felt like they were welded to our backs. My arms were completely immobile, except for my fingers. He tore off the end of the tape. He was not finished, though. More tape went around our four legs, just under our butts, about five or six times, and he tore off the end of the tape. He still wasn’t finished. More tape went around our four legs, this time just above our knees, about five or six times, and he tore off the end of the tape. We were now securely lashed together from our shoulders to just above our knees with a ridiculous amount of tape. We were both squirming involuntarily, and I was afraid we were going to topple over sideways. My lower legs and feet were tied together and on the floor behind me, as were Abby’s, so this provided stability forwards and backwards, but there was no way to prevent a painful fall to the floor sideways. Abby must have shared my concern. “Jason, please! What if we fall over? We could get hurt. Get this tape off us!”
“You’re not going to fall over,” he said. “I’m going to lie you down. I’m all about the safety.”
He moved us sideways and eased us down to the floor. We squealed in fear, but he held us and we made it to the floor gently. “There. Now you can’t fall. I don’t think you can do much of anything. I’ll tell you what – I’ll give you each $100 if you can get back on your knees without my help,” he said with a wicked laugh.
“You’re terrible!” Abby said. “This isn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“Too bad,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. I’m going to take a nap.” He looked at me. “Abby made me do most of the driving, so I’m pretty tired. I won’t gag you so that you can talk to each other, but if you disturb my nap I may have to come out and silence you.”
He rubbed his hands on both of our tights-covered butts at the same time. Now I knew why we had tape above and below, but not over, our butts. He then wrapped one arm around all four of our lower legs and began to tickle the soles of our stocking feet. We howled with uncontrollable laughter, and squirmed as much as we could, which wasn’t much. He let go of our legs, stood up, and went to the couch. He came back with a couple of couch pillows, lifted our heads, and put a pillow under each of us. "There. That should make you more comfortable. I'm all about the comfort." He told us to behave ourselves as he left the room.
I haven’t been naming the chapters of my story, but if I were, I would name the next chapter “How My Ex-Boyfriend’s New Girlfriend Became my New Best Friend”.
To be continued ...
Thursday was my last day in Jason’s apartment. I had kept the houseplants alive so I considered my time here a success. After school, I came back to the apartment and changed into my usual ‘lounging clothes’- panties, tee-shirt, and opaque tights. Today’s tights were red. Jason and Abby were expected back around 5:00, so that gave me time to relax. I curled up on the couch and fell asleep almost immediately.
I was in a deep sleep, but I began to get the feeling that I wasn’t alone. Voices started drifting in my consciousness.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said she loves wearing tights,” a feminine voice said with a giggle.
I bolted upright and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Jason and Abby were standing there, looking down at me with big smiles.
“Oh, you’re back … what time is it? I must have really slept hard,”
“We came back a little earlier than originally planned,” Jason said.
I tried to cover myself with the small quilt that was on the back of the couch. “I’m so embarrassed. I would have put more clothes on.”
“Don’t be silly!” Abby said. “It’s our fault for being early. “You know, speaking of tights, I need to thank you. It’s because of you that I bought several pairs, and I’m kind of hooked on them too now. Speaking of which, …” she said as she sat down on the overstuffed easy chair, held up her booted foot toward Jason, and snapped her fingers. He immediately bent down, unzipped her boot, and pulled it off. She was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knees, and a pair of black opaque tights. She crossed her legs and held up her other foot. Jason unzipped and pulled off that boot too. He was turning into quite the foot slave. All Abby had to do was snap her fingers. He hadn’t been that deferential to me when we were dating.
Abby stood up and took off her jacket. “Also, I have you to thank you, Courtney, for introducing me to tie-up games. Jason and I have had some fun with that this week. Speaking of which, …” she said as she snapped her fingers again and pointed to an overnight bag. Jason obediently picked it up and unzipped it, and pulled out a coil of rope! Abby turned her back to him, crossed her wrists behind her, and waited. He started tying her up! More rope made its appearance from the bag. I couldn’t believe my eyes – he was tying her up right in front of me! It’s like they forgot I was there. I should have excused myself and left to change clothes and pack my bags, but I was mesmerized. I had never seen another girl getting tied up in real life – just in bondage videos I’ve watched online. Watching a girl getting tied up was almost as good as getting tied up myself. Almost.
“Could you take off my skirt, please? Courtney looks so comfortable without hers,” Abby asked. Jason finished tying her hands behind her back, and then unzipped and pulled her skirt down. She stepped out of her skirt and sat down again.
He continued to bind Abby until her legs were well secured with rope. She was sitting on the edge of the chair testing her bonds. She was obviously not interested in decorative or playful bondage. She was tied up beyond all hope of freeing herself. She looked so pretty sitting there, squirming in her tight bonds.
“Oh my gosh,” said Abby. “We’re so rude. We forgot about our guest. Jason, where are your manners? Ask her if she wants to be tied up too.”
Before I could respond, Jason said, “Oh, yes Courtney. Sorry. Would you like to be tied up too?”
“No, I’m good. I don’t want to be the third wheel. You two are having fun. I really should be going and let you two do your thing. Thanks anyway.”
“You know you want to,” Abby said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“No, really …”
“Courtney,” Jason said, interrupting me. “Get over here right now and put your hands behind your back.”
He spoke with such authority that all my resolve melted. “OK,” I said, standing up and putting down the quilt. “I’ll just go put on a pair of shorts and be back in a …”
Jason interrupted me again. “What part of ‘right now’ did you not understand? Get over here. Or must I come get you?”
“I think you better do what he says,” Abby said. “He was a track star in high school. I don’t think you could outrun him. I know I certainly can’t right now!”
I meekly walked over to Jason, turned my back to him, and put my hands behind me. He grasped my wrists, pulling them back farther, and crossed them. He began to bind the rope tightly around my wrists, and I got that fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever someone started to tie me up. I really shouldn’t be doing this! I felt like I was cheating on Mike. But, Mike and I were not a couple – we haven’t even been on one date yet. Besides, Jason didn’t really give me much choice. I was being tied up against my will, mostly. And, come to think of it, even if I had a boyfriend, is getting tied up by someone else really considered cheating? It’s a tie-up game, not sex. I was mulling this all over in my head, trying to decide if I had done anything to be ashamed of, when it all became a moot point anyway. Jason had finished tying my wrists together, and a quick check told me that there was no way I was going to free them on my own. In a way, I was glad. Now, whatever happened, I had no control over the situation, so therefore there was no need to feel any guilt (although I probably should have protested more!).
Jason told me to sit on the floor and stretch my legs out in front of me. I was leaning against the easy chair, and Abby’s bound-together legs were touching my left arm. I couldn’t help but notice what nice legs she had. Her tights felt nice against my arm.
“Make sure you tie her securely,” she said with a giggle. “We don’t want her running away, do we?” How strange is this, I thought to myself, that she’s watching her boyfriend tie up another girl and she doesn’t act jealous at all, in fact she seems to be enjoying it. And he’s not just tying up another girl, but a former girlfriend of his. And not just a former girlfriend, but a former girlfriend who’s practically in her underwear. Well, not ‘practically’ in my underwear. I’m literally in my underwear! My tights are opaque, but I (and the other two people in the room) can clearly see my panties under them. My tee-shirt can hardly be called a shirt at all – it doesn’t even reach the waistband of my tights. Hmm, I began to wonder if tights are really undergarments. Surely, they would qualify as both underwear and outerwear, wouldn’t they?
By the time I pondered the classification of tights, he had already bound rope around my legs just above my knees. Abby was slowly rubbing her legs against my arm. I tilted my head and rested my cheek on her tights-covered thigh. “Nice tights, Abby,” I said.
“Yours too, Courtney! I love the color. Jason, add red tights to our shopping list. When Jason decides to let us go, if he decides to let us go, we’re going to have to massage each other’s legs.”
“Yes,” I said and gave her leg a little kiss. “We’re really going to need it.” I enjoyed how her tights felt against my lips! I have no idea why I kissed her leg, but she didn’t seem to think it was weird.
“Thanks. I wish I could kiss your legs too. I’ll have to do that later. Your tights look so pretty and smooth,” she responded.
“You two are having the weirdest conversation. I would gag you both right now, but I’m kind of getting turned on hearing you both admiring each other’s legs,” Jason said, as he began to tie my ankles together.
“That reminds me,” Abby said. “Please don’t gag us. I’m dying to hear about Courtney’s appointment with Mr. Bond.”
“OK, no gags this time,” Jason said. He held my stocking feet in his hands, thumbs on my soles and fingers on top, and gave me a foot rub. “How’s that? Too tight?”
I tried to move my legs independently, but there was no slack at all at either knees or ankles. “Pretty darn tight. Just the way I like it!” I told him.
“Excellent,” Jason said. “Time for stage two.”
“What is stage two?” Abby asked
“You will soon find out,” he answered. He pulled her off the chair and helped her stand. “Just take a couple of hops to the middle of the floor now. Very good. Now I’m going to lower you so that you’re on your knees.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously.
“Just be patient. Now, stay there.”
I noticed that neither one of us had our arms secured in any way, except for the rope around our wrists. He shouldn’t make such a rookie mistake. We could easily curl up in a ball and move our bound wrists down past our feet and then in front of us. We could then easily hop to the kitchen and get a knife to cut ourselves free, or use our teeth to loosen the knots.
He picked me up and carried me to where Abby was, and placed me down on my knees in front of her. He went back to his bondage bag and brought back a wide roll of duct tape. He put his hands on my waist and lifted me slightly and moved me even closer to Abby until we were touching, face-to-face.
“Jason, what are you doing?” Abby demanded to know.
Instead of replying, he began to wind the tape around our bodies, just below our shoulders. Each circuit of tape crushed us tighter together.
“Jason, stop! What are you doing?” Abby yelled.
He ignored her pleas. He continued to make overlapping bands of tape, working his way down our bodies. Now I knew why he hadn’t bothered to secure our arms better earlier. By the time he reached our waists and wound the tape several more times around us, our arms felt like they were welded to our backs. My arms were completely immobile, except for my fingers. He tore off the end of the tape. He was not finished, though. More tape went around our four legs, just under our butts, about five or six times, and he tore off the end of the tape. He still wasn’t finished. More tape went around our four legs, this time just above our knees, about five or six times, and he tore off the end of the tape. We were now securely lashed together from our shoulders to just above our knees with a ridiculous amount of tape. We were both squirming involuntarily, and I was afraid we were going to topple over sideways. My lower legs and feet were tied together and on the floor behind me, as were Abby’s, so this provided stability forwards and backwards, but there was no way to prevent a painful fall to the floor sideways. Abby must have shared my concern. “Jason, please! What if we fall over? We could get hurt. Get this tape off us!”
“You’re not going to fall over,” he said. “I’m going to lie you down. I’m all about the safety.”
He moved us sideways and eased us down to the floor. We squealed in fear, but he held us and we made it to the floor gently. “There. Now you can’t fall. I don’t think you can do much of anything. I’ll tell you what – I’ll give you each $100 if you can get back on your knees without my help,” he said with a wicked laugh.
“You’re terrible!” Abby said. “This isn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“Too bad,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. I’m going to take a nap.” He looked at me. “Abby made me do most of the driving, so I’m pretty tired. I won’t gag you so that you can talk to each other, but if you disturb my nap I may have to come out and silence you.”
He rubbed his hands on both of our tights-covered butts at the same time. Now I knew why we had tape above and below, but not over, our butts. He then wrapped one arm around all four of our lower legs and began to tickle the soles of our stocking feet. We howled with uncontrollable laughter, and squirmed as much as we could, which wasn’t much. He let go of our legs, stood up, and went to the couch. He came back with a couple of couch pillows, lifted our heads, and put a pillow under each of us. "There. That should make you more comfortable. I'm all about the comfort." He told us to behave ourselves as he left the room.
I haven’t been naming the chapters of my story, but if I were, I would name the next chapter “How My Ex-Boyfriend’s New Girlfriend Became my New Best Friend”.
To be continued ...
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Radames0674
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 20
- Joined: 6 years ago
Very nice turn of events, I wouldn't have thought of that
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TightsBound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 589
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: CT, USA
I really enjoyed this chapter! Maybe it’s the part with two tights clad ladies tied together face to face. I imagine they’ll be rubbing there stocking feet against each other’s soon enough. 
I can’t wait until the next chapter!
I can’t wait until the next chapter!-
iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks Radames0674 and TightsBound!
Oh, you called that one correctly! Playing footsie did indeed occur!I imagine they’ll be rubbing there stocking feet against each other’s soon enough.
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iliketights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 448
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thirteen Cents, part 15
“I’m going to kill him!” Abby said. “I’m sorry Courtney. When I suggested that he should tie you up, I never imagined that he would get so carried away.”
“No need to apologize. I suppose we’ll get used to it. We’ll have to.”
“I’m kind of scared. I can barely move. I can barely breathe! Do you want me to yell at him to come back before he falls asleep? Maybe we could try to reason with him.”
“No!” I said. “He’ll just use it as an excuse to gag us. I definitely don’t want to be gagged right now.”
“Me neither. Oh, please tell me all about your appointment with Mr. Bond. I want every detail.”
I told Abby everything, starting from the moment I first heard about Mr. Bond. When I got to the part about how my release was thwarted because I was thirteen cents short, and I was enduring three additional hours of bondage when she and Jason discovered me on Friday, she gasped.
“Oh my god, Courtney! You were bound and gagged against your will, begging me to untie you, and I ignored you and left town! You needed my help and I just abandoned you. Oh, I am so sorry!”
She sounded so horror stricken that I was afraid she was going to cry. I quickly reassured her that yes, at that point I had been panicking and was tied up against my will, and that I had been begging her to untie me, or to at least remove my gag so that I could explain, but it turned out for the best. I told her how I had even invited Mike to tie me up again on Sunday, and yet again this coming Sunday.
“So, in the last few days, you’ve spent eleven hours in bondage, plus however long Jason is going to leave us like this, plus another three to five hours this Sunday? Oh Courtney! Please let me call Jason back. I’m sure he will take pity on you if he knows you’ve had more than your fair share of being tied up this week!”
“No, he’ll have us gagged before we can even start explaining. I’m OK, really. I like being tied up, but I have to admit that I’ve overdone it this week.”
“Maybe you could tell Mike that being tied up on Sunday is too much, especially in light of this event, which you hadn’t foreseen. Postpone it for a week. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“I’m not sure I want to tell him about this. Even though we’re not dating or anything, he might not like the idea of my ex-boyfriend tying me up. Plus, I’ve changed my mind so many times that if I cancel or even postpone our ‘event’ on Sunday, he might decide I’m not worth it. No, I’m pretty committed to being Mike’s captive on Sunday, and being Jason’s captive today, but I’m not going to want to be tied up again for a long time after that.”
“Oh, tell me all about the second time Mike tied you up,” she said.
I told her all about it, from by elbows-together hogtie on the floor, up to my communicating with Mike by wiggling my toes on the bed. But by far the thing she was most interested in was the crotch rope. She had never heard of one, but she definitely wanted to try one sometime.
We fell silent for a while. “Stretch your legs out straight,” I told her. She looked puzzled, but did it. Jason had tied my ankles together and had done the same with Abby’s ankles, but he had not lashed them all together with tape the way he had done from our shoulders to our knees. Once Abby had unbent her knees, I began to caress her stocking feet with my own. If you have never played footsie with someone while you’re both wearing tights, I highly recommend it. Abby sighed contentedly. Because of the way we were bound together, our faces were by necessity very close together. Abby gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought it was so cute when you kissed my leg earlier. I’m physically unable to kiss your leg right now, but …”
I didn’t let her finish. My mouth was on hers so fast she didn’t know what hit her. This was the first time I had ever kissed another girl. Up to this moment, I had never had the urge to. Whether it was because we were so helpless, or that we were crushed against each other, or the ‘tights footsie’ we were still doing, or the fact that she was so incredibly cute … I don’t know. All I know is that I loved it, and she obviously did too. Our kiss seemed to go on forever.
We eventually came up for air. “Oh, I hope Jason doesn’t finish his nap anytime soon!” Abby said, and we both laughed as hard as we dared without being loud enough to wake him up.
“I’m sorry, Abby. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not really …” I struggled to come up with the right way to say it.
“Me neither!” she said. “But I am sure enjoying it!”
We resumed our little make-out session, but to our embarrassment a voice soon called out, “Woah, woah, woah. What the heck is this? I leave you two alone for a little while, and I come back and find you with your tongues down each other’s throats? Abby, you should be ashamed, kissing someone else like that. And Courtney, that’s not nice of you to be kissing my girlfriend.”
“What do you expect, Jason?” Abby retorted. “You left us all alone with absolutely nothing else to do!”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not mad,” he said. “I’m turned on! I was going to untie you, but you two are obviously having too much fun. I could watch this all day.”
“Please untie us, Jason,” Abby begged. “We’ve had enough.”
“Oh yeah, it looked like you two were truly unhappy,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Go back to what you were doing. ... Well, I’m waiting.”
“We can’t just kiss each other for your amusement. It was a spontaneous thing,” Abby said. “We certainly can’t while you’re watching. You’ve spoiled the mood.”
“Oh, pardon me for spoiling the mood for my girlfriend while she’s kissing someone else. I think the best way to punish you two is to separate you.”
He left for a moment but came back. He had evidently gone to get a pair of scissors. He began to cut through the tape that was keeping us lashed together. I was so relieved. I was eager to get up and stretch my muscles. It soon became clear, however, that he had said he would separate us, not that he would free us. We were no longer crushed together, which felt good, but he didn’t untie any of our ropes. At least my range of motion went from zilch to being able to roll around, and maybe even get to my feet to hop. Or so I thought, until he went to his bag and brought back more rope. I moaned with frustration as he bent my legs to prepare me for a hogtie. “Please Jason, I want to go now. Please untie me,” I begged him.
“You want to leave us so soon? Oh, no, please stay a while!” he said, obviously thinking he was being funny.
“Jason, stop that right now,” Abby commanded. “Courtney watched our apartment and took care of our plants for us. And this is how you repay her? Let her go now!”
“Have you forgotten that she loves being tied up? That whole 'please untie me, I'm a damsel in distress' stuff is part of her fantasy. And whose idea was it for me to ask her if she wanted to be tied up? Hmm, let’s see, I think it was you.”
Soon we were both securely hogtied. So much for my thinking earlier I could roll up in a ball and move my hands from back to front. Our complaints were reduced with the application of thick cleave gags. He told us to behave again while he went back to the bedroom to unpack his suitcase. Abby and I looked at each other and sighed. Another day where I found myself totally helpless with no clue as to when I would be free. At least I had company this time, even if our ability to communicate was severely hampered.
To be continued ...
“I’m going to kill him!” Abby said. “I’m sorry Courtney. When I suggested that he should tie you up, I never imagined that he would get so carried away.”
“No need to apologize. I suppose we’ll get used to it. We’ll have to.”
“I’m kind of scared. I can barely move. I can barely breathe! Do you want me to yell at him to come back before he falls asleep? Maybe we could try to reason with him.”
“No!” I said. “He’ll just use it as an excuse to gag us. I definitely don’t want to be gagged right now.”
“Me neither. Oh, please tell me all about your appointment with Mr. Bond. I want every detail.”
I told Abby everything, starting from the moment I first heard about Mr. Bond. When I got to the part about how my release was thwarted because I was thirteen cents short, and I was enduring three additional hours of bondage when she and Jason discovered me on Friday, she gasped.
“Oh my god, Courtney! You were bound and gagged against your will, begging me to untie you, and I ignored you and left town! You needed my help and I just abandoned you. Oh, I am so sorry!”
She sounded so horror stricken that I was afraid she was going to cry. I quickly reassured her that yes, at that point I had been panicking and was tied up against my will, and that I had been begging her to untie me, or to at least remove my gag so that I could explain, but it turned out for the best. I told her how I had even invited Mike to tie me up again on Sunday, and yet again this coming Sunday.
“So, in the last few days, you’ve spent eleven hours in bondage, plus however long Jason is going to leave us like this, plus another three to five hours this Sunday? Oh Courtney! Please let me call Jason back. I’m sure he will take pity on you if he knows you’ve had more than your fair share of being tied up this week!”
“No, he’ll have us gagged before we can even start explaining. I’m OK, really. I like being tied up, but I have to admit that I’ve overdone it this week.”
“Maybe you could tell Mike that being tied up on Sunday is too much, especially in light of this event, which you hadn’t foreseen. Postpone it for a week. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“I’m not sure I want to tell him about this. Even though we’re not dating or anything, he might not like the idea of my ex-boyfriend tying me up. Plus, I’ve changed my mind so many times that if I cancel or even postpone our ‘event’ on Sunday, he might decide I’m not worth it. No, I’m pretty committed to being Mike’s captive on Sunday, and being Jason’s captive today, but I’m not going to want to be tied up again for a long time after that.”
“Oh, tell me all about the second time Mike tied you up,” she said.
I told her all about it, from by elbows-together hogtie on the floor, up to my communicating with Mike by wiggling my toes on the bed. But by far the thing she was most interested in was the crotch rope. She had never heard of one, but she definitely wanted to try one sometime.
We fell silent for a while. “Stretch your legs out straight,” I told her. She looked puzzled, but did it. Jason had tied my ankles together and had done the same with Abby’s ankles, but he had not lashed them all together with tape the way he had done from our shoulders to our knees. Once Abby had unbent her knees, I began to caress her stocking feet with my own. If you have never played footsie with someone while you’re both wearing tights, I highly recommend it. Abby sighed contentedly. Because of the way we were bound together, our faces were by necessity very close together. Abby gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought it was so cute when you kissed my leg earlier. I’m physically unable to kiss your leg right now, but …”
I didn’t let her finish. My mouth was on hers so fast she didn’t know what hit her. This was the first time I had ever kissed another girl. Up to this moment, I had never had the urge to. Whether it was because we were so helpless, or that we were crushed against each other, or the ‘tights footsie’ we were still doing, or the fact that she was so incredibly cute … I don’t know. All I know is that I loved it, and she obviously did too. Our kiss seemed to go on forever.
We eventually came up for air. “Oh, I hope Jason doesn’t finish his nap anytime soon!” Abby said, and we both laughed as hard as we dared without being loud enough to wake him up.
“I’m sorry, Abby. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not really …” I struggled to come up with the right way to say it.
“Me neither!” she said. “But I am sure enjoying it!”
We resumed our little make-out session, but to our embarrassment a voice soon called out, “Woah, woah, woah. What the heck is this? I leave you two alone for a little while, and I come back and find you with your tongues down each other’s throats? Abby, you should be ashamed, kissing someone else like that. And Courtney, that’s not nice of you to be kissing my girlfriend.”
“What do you expect, Jason?” Abby retorted. “You left us all alone with absolutely nothing else to do!”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not mad,” he said. “I’m turned on! I was going to untie you, but you two are obviously having too much fun. I could watch this all day.”
“Please untie us, Jason,” Abby begged. “We’ve had enough.”
“Oh yeah, it looked like you two were truly unhappy,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Go back to what you were doing. ... Well, I’m waiting.”
“We can’t just kiss each other for your amusement. It was a spontaneous thing,” Abby said. “We certainly can’t while you’re watching. You’ve spoiled the mood.”
“Oh, pardon me for spoiling the mood for my girlfriend while she’s kissing someone else. I think the best way to punish you two is to separate you.”
He left for a moment but came back. He had evidently gone to get a pair of scissors. He began to cut through the tape that was keeping us lashed together. I was so relieved. I was eager to get up and stretch my muscles. It soon became clear, however, that he had said he would separate us, not that he would free us. We were no longer crushed together, which felt good, but he didn’t untie any of our ropes. At least my range of motion went from zilch to being able to roll around, and maybe even get to my feet to hop. Or so I thought, until he went to his bag and brought back more rope. I moaned with frustration as he bent my legs to prepare me for a hogtie. “Please Jason, I want to go now. Please untie me,” I begged him.
“You want to leave us so soon? Oh, no, please stay a while!” he said, obviously thinking he was being funny.
“Jason, stop that right now,” Abby commanded. “Courtney watched our apartment and took care of our plants for us. And this is how you repay her? Let her go now!”
“Have you forgotten that she loves being tied up? That whole 'please untie me, I'm a damsel in distress' stuff is part of her fantasy. And whose idea was it for me to ask her if she wanted to be tied up? Hmm, let’s see, I think it was you.”
Soon we were both securely hogtied. So much for my thinking earlier I could roll up in a ball and move my hands from back to front. Our complaints were reduced with the application of thick cleave gags. He told us to behave again while he went back to the bedroom to unpack his suitcase. Abby and I looked at each other and sighed. Another day where I found myself totally helpless with no clue as to when I would be free. At least I had company this time, even if our ability to communicate was severely hampered.
To be continued ...