Thirteen Cents (M/F), parts 1-39

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iliketights
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Thirteen Cents (M/F), parts 1-39

Post by iliketights »

Hi. My name is Courtney. I’m 21 years old. I can't believe that I found a site called "Stories of Tie Up Games"! For a long time, I thought I was the only one in the world who liked the idea of being tied up. One of my earliest memories was watching a television show in which a woman was kidnapped, tied up, and gagged. I was mesmerized! Over the next few years, I was fortunate to see a few tie-up scenes in movies or detective shows on television. In every scene like that, the woman very clearly did not want to be tied up, but for some reason I would wish it was happening to me. There must be something wrong with me, I thought at the time. Of course, I didn’t really want to be held captive in some abandoned building until my daddy paid the ransom, but the ropes and gags greatly appealed to me.

When I was a little older, I would sometimes go to bed, tie my ankles together with shoestrings, and pretend my hands were tied behind my back. That was a little exciting at first, but it soon lost its appeal. When I was about ten, my mom, dad, and I went to visit my aunt and uncle. I was playing with my cousin Joey, who was about five years old, in the basement. Joey had a sheriff’s toy set, which consisted of a badge, toy gun, and a pair of handcuffs. I told Joey to arrest me, and he handcuffed my hands behind my back. The handcuffs were metal, but because they were toys, they could be opened with either a key or a small lever, so the person wearing them could easily get them off even without a key. Even though I could escape whenever I wanted, it was still an improvement over simply pretending. For the first time, my hands were actually being held behind my back. I hate to admit this, but I stole those handcuffs and brought them home. Joey, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry I stole your toy handcuffs. You’re about sixteen now – I hope you got over it! Anyway, my occasional bedtime self-tie-up game improved a little with the toy handcuffs, but being able to release my hands whenever I wanted eventually failed to satisfy me.

I next decided that I needed someone to tie me up with real rope. This is not something a girl in her early teens can easily do. I couldn’t work up the courage to ask any of my friends without having them think I was completely insane. I had no siblings, so no luck there. My dad, perhaps? I knew he had some rope in the garage. He and I had a great relationship, but I didn’t know how to ask him to tie me up. He too would think I was crazy. Perhaps make a challenge out of it? “Hey Dad, tie me up and if I can escape in one hour you have to let me go to the concert next week with Laura. If I can’t escape, I’ll wash your car and vacuum it every week for a month.” I never worked up the courage to ask him though, or my mom either.

Eventually, I had my first steady boyfriend when I was seventeen. After I got to know Travis and felt I could trust him enough, I broached the subject of tie-up games. He was receptive to it, but unfortunately, he would never get a job making bondage videos. He was terrible at tying me up. I would practically have to hold the ropes to prevent them from falling off my wrists. But he was willing to practice whenever we had my house or his house to ourselves. Eventually he got good enough with the rope tying that it was almost escape-proof, and we would cuddle on the couch watching movies while I was tied hand and foot. I was a cheerleader back then, and he seemed most eager to tie me up when I was in my uniform. He especially liked the knee socks and short skirt. If I felt he deserved it, I would even put on my cheerleading uniform for a tie-up game, even if it wasn’t a game night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very often that we had time alone. After graduation, we went to different colleges and parted as friends.

When I started college, my boyfriend, Jason, was pretty good at tying me up, but he was more into traditional methods of intimacy that didn’t involve ropes and gags. We eventually worked out a deal. We alternated between “normal” intimacy and tie-up games. My obsession didn’t really interest him, so he would usually just tie me up and go watch a game on television. That actually suited me just fine. He was four years older than me and had his own apartment. I lived in the dorms, but now I had a place to indulge my bondage obsession. My favorite memories are of the times he would tie me up and leave me helpless while he went to work. Four hours later, he would come home for lunch. He would untie me, and we would have lunch together. I LOVED that.

It was around that time that I had a part-time job as a waitress. At that particular restaurant, the waitresses had to wear shorts and opaque black tights. A few times my butt would get pinched, or a stray hand from a seated patron would stroke the back of my thigh, but I got good tips. It was because of that I developed my other obsession – wearing pantyhose and tights. Most women I know either don’t wear them at all, or they take them off immediately upon arriving home. Not me. I started to like tights and pantyhose so much that I would wear them not only during our tie-up games, but even while studying in my dorm room.

All good things must come to an end, and my boyfriend broke up with me. He even accused me of liking our tie-up games more than I liked him. He said I was using him. Perhaps he was right. Come to think of it, I know he was right! But now I was right back to where I was earlier in my life – no one to tie me up. Even worse, I had now experienced real bondage, so I was even more aware of what I was missing.

One of my friends in college, Maria, would get very talkative when she was even slightly drunk. On one occasion she let a comment slip out that she had been tied up for a couple of hours the day before. I took it as a figure of speech, but I joked “were the knots tight?” She was not joking. “Oh, yes! Very tight. You’ve heard of Mr. Bond?” I hadn’t, but I was suddenly very interested. She wrote the address of a website on a napkin and handed it to me.

“You mean you let some complete stranger tie you up?” I asked.

“Well, he’s not such a stranger anymore. I’ve engaged his services five or six times now.
About once a month. It sounds kind of creepy, I know, but he’s very professional. Oh no! Look at the time. I’ve got to run,” she said as she rushed off.

I had a million questions to ask her, but she was gone before I could open my mouth. I looked at the napkin. It wouldn’t hurt to just find out more information, would it? I hurried to my dorm room.

I typed in the address on my laptop. It was just as Maria said – this guy would made bondage house calls! I quickly perused some of the information. “We currently provide our service to submissives only. In the future, we hope to employ submissives for those of you who like to do the restraining!” No problem there, I wanted to be on the receiving end of ropes. Perhaps I could eventually apply for a job there? I clicked on “Fill out our form for more information and our pricing. We won’t ask for your name or contact information unless you decide to engage our services!” I might as well investigate further, I told myself.

Question #1: What is your gender? There were several options, plus ‘other – fill in the box’. I didn’t even know what some of them were, but I was pretty sure I was safe clicking ‘female’.

Question #2: Would you prefer to be restrained by a male or female? I’ve only been tied up by guys before. I clicked ‘male’.

Question #3: How much clothing do you want to be wearing for your session? The choices were: a) naked, b) underwear only, c) fully clothed. I clicked c. I have a great body, if I do say so myself, but getting naked in front of strangers is not appealing to me.

Question #4: How do you want to be restrained? The choices were: a) rope, b) handcuffs and chain, c) duct tape, d) belts, e) other (fill in the box). I didn’t have to think hard on this one. Rope, baby, all the way!

Question #5: Gag? Gags are not shared among our customers, so there is an extra charge unless you supply your own. The choices were: a) no gag, b) knotted cloth gag, c) ball gag, d) tape gag, e) tape gag over mouth stuffed with cloth, f) I will supply my own gag, g) other (fill in the box). Hmm, I wanted to try them all, but I chose b.

Question #6: Blindfold? I clicked no. Maybe a blindfold next time.

Question #7: Level of restraint. The choices were: light (easily escapable), medium (more secure and probably inescapable, only wrists and ankles secured), strict (guaranteed inescapable or your money back, arms and legs thoroughly secured), extra-strict (guaranteed inescapable or your money back, similar to strict but the entire body is virtually immobilized), extreme (painful, and due to safety concerns regarding blood circulation, this is limited to a twenty-minute session only). I wavered between ‘strict’ and ‘extra-strict’. Hmm, I love being tied up. I decided to go with ‘extra-strict’.

Question #8: To what would you like to be tied? The choices were: a) tied to nothing (lying on the floor, lying on a couch or bed, but not hogtied), b) hogtied on the floor, couch, or bed, c) tied to a bed, c) tied to a chair, d) tied to a pole (you must have an immobile pole in your home , e) other (fill in the box). Hmm, again, I wanted to try all of these. I decided to choose c. Strangely enough, I had never been tied to a chair before, so it was time to try it.

Question #9: Will you need our ‘release service’? The choices were: a) No – I selected light restraint, so I will free myself, b) No – I plan on having a friend or relative release me at a predetermined time, c) Yes, I will need your release service. If you use our release service, please note that we will not remain with you (unless you chose extreme restraint, in which case you will remain under observation the entire twenty minutes). After being restrained, your ‘captor’ will leave you in order to make other house calls, and will return to free you at a predetermined time. There is an extra charge for this service, and you must give a key to your house or apartment to your captor. If you decline to use our release service, you will be asked to sign a contract absolving us from all liability in the unfortunate event that you fail to get free of your restraints. Well, since the whole point of this is that I don’t have a partner, I needed to select option c.

Question #10: If you elected to use our release service, how long would you like to remain in restraints? a) twenty minutes (only if you chose extreme restraint), b) enter a number of hours in increments of half hours, with a minimum of 1, such as 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, 3, 3.5, 4, etc. Please note that our release service ends at 11:00 p.m., so schedule your appointment accordingly. The time you enter should be the duration of time from the moment your last restraint is applied up to the arrival of your ‘rescuer’. My longest tie-up game with Jason was about four hours, but since they’re probably going to charge me by the hour, I entered 2 hours. That should be plenty, considering I chose extra-strict restraints.

Ready to find out the estimated cost of your session? Click here. Remember, you won’t be asked for your name or contact information until you schedule your appointment. I submitted my form.

The results came back instantly. My session with Mr. Bond would cost me a base fee of $50 for the two hours, plus a $5 fee for the upgrade to the “extra-strict’ level of restraint, plus a $5 fee for a new gag, plus $10 for the release service. Seventy dollars didn’t sound too bad – I could afford that! There was a notice that said, “We are sorry for the inconvenience, but we are not set up at this time to accept credit card payments in advance. All fees must be paid in cash at the time of service.” I almost pressed the “schedule your appointment now” button, but I hesitated. I had the money, but I didn’t have a venue for my little adventure. I was sharing a dorm room with a girl who was nice enough, but I wanted absolute solitude to enjoy my captivity. It would ruin the fantasy if my roommate could come in at any moment. Sadly, I closed the browser without making an appointment and closed my laptop.

A few days later, I got a text message from Jason, my ex-boyfriend. He and his girlfriend were leaving town for a week and wanted to know if I could watch his apartment and water his plants. He said I could stay there if I needed to get away from dorm life for a while. Of all the nerve! He dumped me, got himself a new girlfriend, and now he needs my help? And since when did he have plants? They must be his girlfriend’s plants. He’s asking me to take care of his new girlfriend’s plants! They must be living together. I was seething with anger. I started to write a furious message, telling him that he, his girlfriend, and his plants could all go to hell. Wait a minute … I was being offered a place to stay for a week. A place where I could rendezvous with Mr. Bond, and spend a delightful couple of hours securely bound to a chair and gagged! I was trembling with excitement as I deleted the message I had started, and typed instead, “Sure Jason, I would love to. Let me know when.”

Jason texted back and asked if I could stop by his apartment (he actually called it “our” apartment, which confirmed my suspicion that he was living with his new girlfriend) on the following Wednesday. They would give me a key to the apartment and instructions on how to take care of the plants.

I arrived at his apartment and knocked on the door. I was hoping the new girlfriend wasn’t here. It was humiliating enough doing this favor for Jason without having to meet the girl who replaced me. No such luck. She answered the door.

“Hi, you must be Courtney! Come in! I’m Abby. Thank you so much for helping us!”
I wanted to hate her, but she was so darn nice. Jason seemed happy to see me, and I found myself unable to hate him either. They showed me where all the plants were, and gave me the instructions for caring for them. They then insisted that I stay for dinner. In spite of my initial jealousy, I found that Abby and I got along well. They were going to be leaving town on Friday, around 2:00. They gave me a key to the apartment. This is probably the exact same key to Jason’s apartment that I used to carry, I thought to myself, before he dumped me and asked for it back. But no time for dwelling on past grudges – I had an appointment to schedule!

As soon as I got back to my dorm room, I turned on the laptop, went to the Mr. Bond website, and filled out the form again. This time I actually clicked on “Schedule your appointment.” I filled in all my contact information and made the appointment for 3:00 on Friday. I received a confirmation. I was so excited!

On Thursday, I went to the cash machine to withdraw enough money to pay for my little adventure.

Friday arrived, and I was could hardly concentrate on anything but my appointment this afternoon. I was going to have to skip my 2:00 class, but I had turned in my work ahead of time so it didn’t really matter. I showed up at Jason’s apartment at 1:45 with my overnight bag. Jason and Abby again thanked me profusely for taking care of the apartment. It was my pleasure, I told them, and it truly was in more ways than one.
They were a little bit slow getting the car packed, and I was a little nervous that Mr. Bond would arrive at 3:00 and Jason and Abby would still not have departed. How awkward would that be? Fortunately, they eventually finished packing, with a lot of help from me. I hoped they didn’t realize I was trying to get them to leave their own home as quickly as possible. To my relief, they drove away at 2:25. I went into the apartment to change clothes. I discarded my jeans and put on a brand-new pair of black opaque tights. As I said before, I have a thing for tights. Tie-up games and tights complement each other beautifully. I hope that if I’m ever kidnapped for real, I will be wearing tights at the time of my abduction. If not, I would beg my captor to go buy a pair! I then put on a very short skirt, and left my tight t-shirt on. I checked myself in the mirror. I hate to brag, but I looked good! I didn’t bother putting on shoes. I love being in my stocking feet while wearing tights. I walked out to the kitchen and looked at the kitchen chairs. Excellent – the sturdy wooden kitchen chairs I remembered were still here. I sat on one and slipped my arms between the rails in the back of the chair and put my hands behind the chair. I could easily put my wrists together back there. These chairs seemed custom-made for tie-up games!

I was eager for 3:00 to arrive. I tried to read a book on the couch, but I was just too excited to concentrate for very long. At 2:50 I had a drink of water and went to the bathroom. It would be a while before I could do either of those things again.

At 2:59, there was a knock on the door. I was soon going to be tied up, for the first time in months! I was going through bondage withdrawal! I opened the door. I hadn’t really thought about what he would look like. It didn’t really matter, as long as he didn’t seem too creepy. But I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was about my age, maybe a little older, and very good-looking.

“Mr. Bond?”

“Please, call me Mike. ‘Mr. Bond’ is just the name of our company. You must be Courtney? May I come in?”

“Oh, yes,” I stammered. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous. Come in.”

He was carrying a backpack, which I assumed contained enough rope to bind me at my requested ‘extra-strict’ level of restraint.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” he said. “I have a few papers for you to sign before we begin.”
I sat down next to him and he handed me a clipboard with some forms. I crossed my legs and smiled as I saw him checking me out. I read through the forms quickly. Basically, it was reviewing the options I had selected.

“If you sign here,” he said, pointing at the bottom, “it just indicates that you are of the age of consent, and you are allowing me to tie you up of your own free will, and that I have not coerced you in any way. You won’t be able to accuse me later of kidnapping or false imprisonment.” We looked at each other and we both smiled. I signed my name.

“Sign here indicating that you understand that having purchased our release service, I will return to this apartment two hours after your last restraint has been applied, and I will begin untying you.” I signed my name.

“Sign here indicating that you agreed to our pricing.” I signed my name.

“Excellent,” he said, taking the signed forms. “I just need to see a photo ID to verify that you are at least 21, and a key to this apartment.” I grabbed my purse, took out my drivers license and handed it to him, along with the key.

“You’re 21, but just barely! Is this a late birthday gift to yourself?” he asked with a laugh as he handed back my license.

“You could say that,” I said.

“Now I’ll just need the agreed upon payment, in cash, and we can get started!” He sounded as eager as I was! I took my wallet out of my purse and counted out the base fee, plus the surcharge for ‘extra-strict’ level, plus gag.

“You requested a chair tie. I assume it’s one of those?” he asked as he pointed to the kitchen chairs. I nodded, and he went and carried one of the chairs into the living room.

“Before I have you sit on the chair, I need you to hold out your hands.” I held out my hands, and he pulled a pair of pink girl socks out of his bag. He put one sock over each of my hands.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

“The extra-strict level description includes the phrase ‘the entire body is virtually immobilized’, and that includes the fingers. You will not be able to use your fingers to pick at any knots they might be able to reach otherwise,” he said as he made me form my right hand into a fist inside the sock, and began to wind white medical tape around my hand so many times that my hand now resembled a ball of tape. He then repeated the process on my left hand. I looked down at my now useless hands in my lap, and realized with shock that even if he left me right now without applying any other bonds, I was already pretty helpless. I would be unable to hold my cell phone, let alone dial for help. I would be unable to even use the doorknob to open the door to leave the apartment. He helped me stand and we went to the chair.

“Have a seat on your throne, your majesty!”

I had been nervous, but his easy-going manner put me at ease. I sat on the chair and put my arms through the back of the chair, as I had practiced before. He put my wrists together, and soon I felt rope tighten around them. I felt that little flutter in my stomach that I always felt the moment I was being tied up. He next brought my elbows together as close as they were able and began binding them too, and also binding the rope around the narrow spindles that made up the back of the chair. As my arms were being progressively tied not only together, but to the back of the chair itself, I nervously tried to make small talk. “What an unusual job you have, Mike.”

“Oh yes. But it’s a lot more fun than my last job, which was delivering pizza.”

More rope continued to bind my upper body to the back of the chair. Rope went around my waist, above my chest, and diagonally in both directions from the shoulders, crossing between my breasts, and around the back of the chair. Mike was obviously well-practiced in tying up women. He worked with complete confidence, knowing how to bind securely but not painfully. When he was sure my upper body was bound to the chair to ‘extra-strict’ standards, he turned his attention to my legs. He knelt in front of me and gently placed my stockinged feet side by side on his lap. He ran his hands along the tops of my feet and behind my calves.

“I love your tights!” he exclaimed.

“Thanks, they’re brand-new. I bought them for this occasion.”

He looked up at me and smiled, and then became a serious tying machine again. Rope was tied around my ankles and cinched securely. More rope was tied and cinched below my knees and above my knees. Then he began tying rope around my lap and the seat of the chair. Rope was tied from the sides of the chair to my knee ropes, so that I couldn’t move my legs at all in a side-to-side manner. Finally, he tied a rope from my ankle rope to the back of the chair, and pulled the rope until my feet were no longer touching the floor. A knot was tied, and my legs were now going to stay bent like this for the foreseeable future. He gently caressed the soles of my stocking feet, saying, “I would normally wrap tape around your feet now so that even your toes would be immobile, like your fingers, but it would be a crime to cover up these pretty feet.” I wiggled my toes, grateful that he left them free.

He stood up and looked down at me. “Show me how much you can wiggle.” I gave it my best shot, but I could hardly move a muscle. “I did a great job!” he bragged.

“You sure did. You should do this for a living. Oh, wait, I guess you do!” I joked.

“The contract you signed did say you would be given a chance now to change your mind, but there would be no refund. Just say the word and I’ll untie you.”

“Don’t you dare! I’m just getting comfortable,” I said.

He pulled a cloth out of his backpack and tied a knot in the middle of it. “In that case, there’s only one thing left to do,” he said, bringing the cloth up to my face. It was a pretty thick cloth, so the knot was fairly large. I opened wide, and the knot was placed in my mouth. He pulled the gag tightly behind my head, and tied it securely.

He picked up his backpack and headed for the front door. He turned around. “Have fun! See you in two hours.” He opened the door and turned off the lights. There was still plenty of light coming through the windows, even with the curtains closed. The door closed behind him, and I could hear the deadbolt sliding into place. I was now alone. Bound, gagged, and alone. I had been tied up many times before this, but all other times paled in comparison to this. I was the happiest and most content I had been in a long time. I was in ecstasy.

How glad I was that I spent the extra money for the ‘extra-strict’ level. This was amazing. I explored my bonds by systematically straining against each rope with which I was bound. There was not a bit of slack anywhere.

I could hear people talking in the hallway of the apartment building just outside the door. Evidently there was a party tonight starting next door. There would be a knock on the door, and sounds of greeting and music as the door would open. What would all these people think if they knew that a girl was severely bound to a chair and gagged in the next apartment? They were celebrating the start of the weekend, as people were doing all over this university town, while I sat bound, gagged, helpless, and alone on a Friday night. Yet I would not change places with any of them!

Was there something wrong with me? Most people would do anything to avoid the captivity I had paid to get inflicted upon me. Why was I enjoying this so much? Perhaps a psychologist could explain this to me someday.

Time passed, very slowly. I was able to see a clock, which probably made the time seem to pass slower. As with all of my previous times I had been tied up, there comes a point when the thrill passes, and boredom sets in. I could do absolutely nothing to help pass the time. But, this phase of captivity is still exciting in its own way. It wouldn’t be any fun at all to be released at the precise moment the initial thrill is gone. To now want to be untied but have the desire denied was part of the overall experience. I was just glad I had chosen two hours instead of three. Then, at the one-hour mark, I wish I had chosen one hour instead of two. I was very ready to be able to walk around and stretch, and I still had another hour left to go in this chair. My feet were pulled up under the chair, and I longed to be able to unbend my legs.

The second hour seemed to drag. Even so, I was still glad I did this. What I really needed was to find a boyfriend who could tie me up this well once per week!

Slowly the second hour drew to a close. I hoped that Mr. Bond … I mean, Mike, wouldn’t be late.

Punctual almost to the very minute, I heard a key enter the lock, and the door opened. It was Mike! I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life. Jason had kept me tied up twice as long as this on several occasions, but then I had been able to roll around on the floor. Two hours completely immobilized in a chair felt longer than four hours on the floor.

Mike switched on the light. “Hi beautiful! Are you ready to be untied?” I nodded vigorously.

He went behind me, untied my gag, and pulled the knot out of my mouth. The knot was big enough that I had a hard time closing my mouth without it, my mouth having been held open so wide for two hours. Eventually my jaw returned to normal as I worked it side to side and up and down. Mike unscrewed a water bottle and held it to my mouth. I drank eagerly. The water felt so good.

“Now, let’s start getting these ropes off, shall we?” he said.

“Oh yes, thank you!”

To be continued ...
Last edited by iliketights 5 years ago, edited 37 times in total.
Fordman
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Post by Fordman »

Excellent story, I look forward to the next chapter.
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iliketights
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Post by iliketights »

Thank you Fordman! Courtney is about to discover that her rescue may be delayed a little due to a technicality.

Also, I noticed that you saved and posted my stories from the old site involving Rusty, Lucy, Amy, and Autumn in the archives. Thanks for doing that!
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Post by iliketights »

Thirteen Cents, part 2

“I did forget something, though,” he said. “I was supposed to collect all fees up front. I still need to collect the fee for the release service.”

“Oh, yes,” I replied. He was right. I had paid for the basic plan, plus the surcharge for ‘extra-strict’, plus the gag, but I hadn’t paid for release. “My purse is on the coffee table there. There’s a wallet inside. Could you get the money? I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

“Very funny,” he said with a smile. “But I have to admit, I’ve heard that ‘I’m tied up at the moment’ joke a few too many times in my line of work.”

“Sorry, I never claimed to be original,” I said, and he smiled.

He pulled all the bills out of my wallet and counted them. “There’s only $9 here. The fee for release service is $10.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, and he showed me. One five and four ones.

“Check the zippered pocket. That’s where I keep my change,” I suggested.

He unzipped it and dumped them out on the table. “Twenty-five, fifty, sixty, sixty-five, sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight. That’s two quarters, a dime, a nickel, and three pennies. You’re still thirty-two cents short.”

“Surely that’s close enough, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Close enough isn’t the same as payment in full.”

I was getting a little exasperated. “Jason used to keep his spare change in a dish on his dresser. His room is down the hall,” I indicated the direction with my head. Mike went to Jason’s room and came back.

“Well?” I asked. Mike held out his hand. There were two nickels and two pennies.

“OK, that’s got to be close enough. I’ll owe you twenty cents.”

“Sorry, according to the contract you signed, all payments must be made in full. If my boss found out I was giving unauthorized discounts, I would be fired. I’m sorry, but the release service has to be cancelled due to lack of payment.”

He picked up the gag. He’s actually going to gag me again?

“No! Please!” my mind was racing for possible solutions. “Please, check under the couch cushions! There’s always some change under the cushions.”

Mike sighed and dropped the gag. “OK, but I really have to be going. I still have other appointments scheduled today. But I’ll try.”

He reached under the couch cushions, and to my relief, I heard the jingling of coins. Then he looked under the loveseat cushions. He came back and showed me one nickel and three pennies.

“That’s $9.87. I really have to be going now.”

“No!” I cried. “Look, if you take all the tape and the sock off my right hand, I’m wearing an opal ring. It’s worth a lot more than thirteen cents. Please take it and untie me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m only authorized to take cash, as it states in the contract. You’re still 13 cents short. I’m going to have to leave. I’m sure someone will find you soon and untie you. You mentioned a guy Jason, and a guy obviously lives here,” he said as he picked up the gag again.

“No! Please! Listen to me! Jason is gone for a week. No one will be coming here. I’m apartment sitting and taking care of the plants. I will die if you leave me tied up and gagged. Please, don’t let me die because of thirteen cents!” I begged.

He looked down at the gag he was holding in his hand and looked deep in thought. “I have to take some of the blame too. I was supposed to collect all fees up front, and I forgot.”

Finally, a glimmer of hope! “Could you take responsibility for thirteen cents worth of the blame and untie me?”

He thought for a moment. “I can’t untie you on company time without full payment, but I’ll tell you what I can do. I have …” he brought up his daily calendar on his phone, “just a few more appointments, and then I’m off duty. There’s nothing in the rules preventing me from visiting a friend on my own time. I can untie you then.”

“When are you off duty?” I asked.

“My last appointment is at 7:30. She requested extra-strict, like you did. So, figuring the time for me to get her securely tied up and then travel time for me, I could probably get back here around 8:00. The good news is that she didn’t request release service, so I’ll be done for the night.”

“8:00!” I shrieked. “It’s only 5:10 right now! That’s nearly three more hours – and I’ve already been tied up for two! Please, I’m begging you, please … untie me now! I can’t last another minute. Don’t do this to me! It’s only thirteen cents mmmfff!”

“Thirteen cents” was the last thing I would be saying for a long time. The knot was pushed into my mouth, and the cloth was pulled back tightly and tied behind my head. He came around to face me, and I looked up at him, pleading desperately with my eyes.

“Look on the bright side,” he said. “There are times when we are so busy that we have appointments right up to our 11:00 p.m. closing time. You are so lucky that tonight is a slow night and that I’m done at 8:00.” He looked at his watch. “I really have to run.”

He opened the door to leave. I screamed as loud as I could, hoping that someone would be walking down the hall at that precise moment and hear me. It was just my luck that the hallway was unusually deserted. He turned off the light, left, and closed the door behind him. I heard the deadbolt slide into place again. I had been so close to being rescued. Now, in spite of those last two long hours, I was less than half-way through my ordeal. What had happened to my careful plans? I had withdrawn enough cash to pay for everything, including the release service. I had carefully placed $70 in one compartment of my wallet. My regular spending money was in my pocket. No … oh no … it was my stop at the coffee cart yesterday. I had come up a little short with my regular spending money, so I had to break one of the ten-dollar bills I had reserved for Mr. Bond. I had intended to replenish my wallet when I got back to my dorm room, but I forgot. My moment of self-indulgence at the coffee cart and my forgetfulness afterwards was now costing me dearly.

Are you freaking kidding me? Just when I thought I was going to be untied after two long hours of almost total immobility, I am now facing three more hours of being tied to this chair because I was thirteen cents short in payment my release fee? THIRTEEN CENTS? Would it have killed him to reach into his own pocket and donate thirteen cents? I am so going to write a letter of complaint to the Mr. Bond company. Maybe sue them for pain and suffering. Oh, who am I kidding. This was my fault. I signed a contract stating that I would pay in full in cash. I’m the one who failed to make sure I had enough cash with me. Maybe I had even subconsciously sabotaged my release fee. My list of questions to ask a psychologist someday was growing ever longer.

I again tested each rope in turn. Time had not loosened any knots. I was still almost completely immobile. Even my fingers were imprisoned. I could wiggle my toes as my bound-together feet dangled off the floor, but my feet and my neck were about the only parts of me that were permitted any movement.

How I wished Mike had turned on the television or radio for me. Something, anything, that would help distract me from my present predicament. Practically every muscle in my body was begging for movement. If only I had requested to be tied up on the floor, instead of to this rigid chair. How glorious that would be to be able to roll around.

I was growing desperate to be free. I screamed as loud as I could through my thick gag, hoping that someone in the next apartment would hear me and investigate or call the police. But unfortunately, now of all days, there was a party next door, just on the other side of the nearest wall. Music and conversation were drowning out any of my pathetic attempts to be heard. I doubt that my gagged cries would have been heard outside this room, even if there had been no party. Earlier I said that I would not have traded places with anyone. Now I would give anything to be at a party instead of tied up like this. Had this cured me of my bondage obsession? I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be tied up again after this.

I started to pray. Please, send me a knight in shining armor to rescue me. I can’t take much more of this.

It was now about a half-hour after Mike had abandoned me for the second time. It was winter, and in my northern latitude, the sun had already set. The living room was almost completely dark. Why did Mike keep turning out the lights? I had declined a blindfold, but the darkness left me unable to see anything anyway. I was severely bound, gagged, alone, and now sitting in the dark. And I had brought this upon myself.

Suddenly, I heard a key turning in the lock. It’s only 5:45! One of Mike’s customers must have cancelled! Thank God! My prayer for a knight in shining armor coming to rescue me was being granted.

The door opened, the light was flipped on, and I heard a woman gasp. It wasn’t Mike. It was Jason and Abby. There must have been a change in their travel plans. I instantly felt intense embarrassment. I didn’t want them to see me like this, nor did I look forward to having to explain what happened. As humiliated as I felt, my desire to be free of all these ropes was far greater. I was very glad to see them.

Abby had a look of horror on her face as she beheld the sight of me gagged and bound tightly to a chair with an obscene amount of rope. She pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked as he quickly closed the door.

“I’m calling the police,” she answered in a panicked voice. “The burglar might still be in the apartment,” she whispered. She was trembling so hard she could hardly hold the phone.
I frantically shook my head. No! Don’t involve the police! I can explain, just remove my gag!

“No, put the phone away!” Jason said.

“What? Look at her! We’ve got to call the police.”

Jason took the phone from her trembling hands. “I have to tell you something about Courtney. She has this thing about being tied up. She loves it. She craves it. Look around – the apartment hasn’t been robbed.”

“But who did this to her?” Abby asked.

“How should I know?” Jason answered. “Evidently she has a new boyfriend who tied her up.” He suddenly looked annoyed. “I don’t really think it’s appropriate for them to use my apartment for their little games. She could have at least asked me. Now there’s a guy who I don’t even know who’s making himself at home in my apartment while I’m gone.” He glared at me while I futilely shook my head and pleaded through my gag.

“But she doesn’t look like she’s enjoying this. She looks scared. She’s begging,” Abby said.

“It’s all part of her fantasy. She likes to be tied up and pretend she’s being held against her will, and then abandoned. I should know – I’ve tied her up dozens of times.”

“You’ve tied her up dozens of times? You never tied me up!” Abby said, starting to sound a little disappointed and more than a little jealous.

“Well, you’ve never asked me to,” he said.

Could you two continue your lovers’ quarrel some other time and untie me?

“Anyway,” Abby said. “How do we know that this time isn’t for real? Maybe she really has been tied up by a burglar. I’m going to take off her gag and get to the bottom of this.”

Yes! I almost wept with joy.

“Take a look at what she’s wearing,” Jason suggested.

“What about it?”

“She was wearing jeans when we left. Now she’s wearing a skirt and tights.”

“So? Maybe she was dressing up to go out before she was robbed. She looks nice.” Abby said.

“Courtney doesn’t just have an obsession for being tied up,” Jason explained. “She also has a thing for tights. She always put on a pair of tights whenever we played a tie-up game. In fact, putting on a pair of tights was her signal that she wanted me to role-play as a kidnapper or burglar.”

Abby looked at me. I shook my head and pleaded. No! It’s not a tie-up game! Well, it was, but it turned serious! Please, I need your help!

“Let’s just get the stuff we came for and get on the road,” Jason said. “I don’t want to be here when Courtney’s boyfriend comes back. That would be a little awkward, wouldn’t it?”

Abby turned to me. “We stopped at my parents’ house for dinner before we headed out of town. Genius over here realized he forgot to pack some of his things. Luckily he realized it before we left town. We’ll just be on our way and you can finish your game with your friend.” She looked at all the ropes tied tightly around me. “You really need to introduce him to us sometime. Maybe we could have a double-date?”

I was near tears now, and I was trying my best to convey with every moan, eye gesture, and head shaking, that I truly was tied up against my will.

“I don’t know, Jason,” she said with concern. “She doesn’t look like she’s faking it to me. I won’t be able to enjoy our trip unless I know she’s OK. I don’t care what you say – I’m going to remove her gag.”

“Whatever,” he said as he left the room to find whatever he had returned for.

She started to pull on my gag, and again I nearly wept in gratitude. She realized it was tied far too tightly to merely pull it out, so she went behind me to untie the knot. I could feel her picking at the knot, but then she stopped and came around to face me.

“Courtney, did Mr. Bond tie you up?” she asked.

I was surprised she knew about Mr. Bond, and I automatically nodded without thinking. She smiled and looked relieved. I had just committed the biggest mistake possible. I had just doomed my only chance of getting help. In two seconds my gag would have been removed and I could have explained how my session with Mr. Bond had gone so wrong.

“Oh, what a relief!” Abby exclaimed. “I was beginning to think you were tied up against your will for real. My best friend uses Mr. Bond, and she loves it!”

“Who’s Mr. Bond?” Jason asked as he came back.

“It’s a small business. You make an appointment, one of them comes and ties you up in whatever manner you like. Then they come back and untie you after the time you specify.”

“People are actually dumb enough to pay for something like that?” Jason said. He looked at me, and said, “Oh, is that what she did? No offense, Courtney.”

Great. I’m tied up, gagged, and getting insulted by my ex-boyfriend. Was there no end to the indignities I had to suffer today?

“Stop it, you just don’t get it,” Abby retorted. Then she turned back to me. “You and I really need to have lunch together when we get back. I’m dying to hear all about it.”

“We better be hitting the road. It’s already 5:50,” Jason said. We won’t get to the hotel until 11:00 at this rate.”

“And who’s fault is that, Mr. Forgetful?” Abby said sarcastically.

They turned to leave. I was nearly in hysterics now, begging and pleading through my gag, but now even Abby must have thought it was just role-playing on my part.

As they got to the door, Abby said to Jason, “The first chance we get on this trip, we’re buying a pair of tights for me and some rope. That looks like fun.”

“Maybe after you’re gagged, I’ll have some peace and quiet for once,” Jason responded.
They left and closed and locked the door behind them. A second later, the door unlocked and opened again.

They’re coming back! They were just playing a trick on me, making me think they were leaving! I knew they wouldn’t leave me like this.

They didn’t enter. Only Jason’s arm came through the door. He switched off the light and closed the door again. Then came the sound of a key and the door being locked from the outside. Once again, I was alone and in total darkness. Jason said it was 5:50. That meant I was still facing more time in tight bondage than I had originally planned on in total, and this was even after being tied up for nearly three hours already.

Ever since Mike had started binding me to the chair at 3:00, I had experienced just about every emotion, and often to its extreme. First it was happiness, contentment, and euphoria. That faded, to be replaced by boredom and then discomfort. Mike came back, and I felt relief that my time in the tight ropes was coming to an end. Then, on the brink of being released, my hopes were dashed, and I was abandoned. Jason and Abby arrived later, and then I felt extreme humiliation, but again relief with the expectation that I would be untied. Abby had twice said she would remove my gag, getting my hopes up, only to again be denied the freedom to speak at the last possible second. Then I was abandoned again. The door had reopened, causing me to have hope again, only to find that the door had opened only for the lights to be switched off, and I had been abandoned yet again. Now to face more than two additional hours bound and gagged in the dark like this, after experiencing a roller coaster of emotions, … well, it was more than my mind and body could take. I felt like I couldn’t breathe in enough air, and the tight ropes around my chest didn’t help matters. No, I can’t have a panic attack or complete nervous breakdown now. Not when I have no possibility of getting help. Luckily, neither thing happened. I merely fainted.

There was one good thing about fainting in this situation. It allowed time to pass in sweet oblivion. There were two bad things about fainting, though. First, I had no clue exactly how much time had passed. Was I unconscious for two hours, and Mike would be here within fifteen minutes to untie me? Or did I faint for only five minutes, and I still had more than two hours before rescue? It was too dark for me to see the clock. The worst thing, though, was that coming to, completely disoriented, was terrifying. I was only semi-conscious at first, and I became hysterical when I found myself tightly tied up, gagged, and unable to see. It took several terror-filled minutes before I remembered that I had paid someone to do this to me. As several minutes dragged by and my heart stopped pounding so hard, I almost wished I would faint again, so that more time would pass. But no, the horrible after-effects were not worth it.

Thirteen cents. I was having to endure this because I lacked thirteen cents. Thirteen - the unlucky number. I suddenly remembered that today was not only Friday - it was Friday the 13th!

Time passed ...

For some strange reason, I thought of a time that my dad had taken me our for ice-cream when I was a little girl. Dad had looked at the change he had received. "Here sweetie," he said, handing me two dimes. "What are the odds of that? I got two dimes in change just now, and they both have your birth year on them. Keep them. Surely you were meant to get those today. They'll bring you luck!" I have carried those two dimes with me ever since. Even now, those two dimes have a permanent home in my wallet, in a tiny envelope I made for them so that I would never accidentally spend them. I looked at my purse on the coffee table. Those two dimes were in there. A reminder of a fun moment with my daddy ... WHAT THE HELL! I had enough money to pay the release fee after all - with seven cents to spare! I began to laugh weakly through my thick gag. My subconscious mind had reminded me that I could have paid to be untied. If only this memory could have surfaced before Mike gagged me again and left! I would have felt bad giving up those two coins that were a constant reminder of my dad, though. Would my dad have disapproved of me giving them away to a stranger? No, surely he would prefer that to having his daughter suffer in this tight, inescapable bondage for hours on end. He probably doesn't even remember giving me those two dimes, and he definitely didn't expect me to keep them forever even if he did remember. I sighed. It doesn't matter anyway. It's too late to purchase my freedom.

I began to worry – what if Mike forgets about me? What if he’s in an accident on the way here, and he’s unconscious or dead? My very life depended on Mike returning. For my own sanity, I needed to do something to quell the rising panic. I needed some way to get my mind off my increasing physical discomforts. My butt was getting incredibly sore sitting in one position on this hard wood chair for so long. Was Jason too cheap to spring for a set of chair cushions? My legs were held motionless in a bent position and were cramping terribly. My arms and upper body were being squeezed in every direction by tight rope. Fortunately, Mike knew his craft, and my blood circulation was fine, but unfortunately, he knew his craft all too well when it came to incredibly tight and motion-prohibiting ropes. How could I possibly distract myself from my predicament? I had briefly studied yoga and meditation. I was unable to do any yoga right now, but meditation was worth a try. It would at least calm me down. After that, I tried praying every prayer that my dad used to teach me at bedtime when I was a little girl. When I finished every prayer I knew, I began singing every song I could think of. It probably sounded like the babbling of a crazy person, singing while exhausted and gagged, but singing at least kept my spirits up a little. Finally, I could do no more. I had tried all night not to cry, because I didn’t want my nose to run while I was helpless to do anything about it. But I could hold the tears back no longer. I started bawling like a baby. Sobs racked my body. Tears flowed unchecked. My nose ran. I was pathetic. If I had planned on five hours of bondage from the start, I probably could have handled this a lot better. I think it was the numerous emotional highs and lows I had experienced, the repeated abandonments just when I thought freedom was imminent, that left me a quivering wreck. My meltdown had left me physically and emotionally exhausted. The ropes were the only things holding me upright. Without my bonds I would have tumbled to the floor in a heap. I could no longer even hold my head up. I wasn’t really asleep, nor was I awake. I was in a barely conscious state that was very strange. But at least it took the edge off my physical and emotional anguish.

Time passed …

Time passed …

I don’t know how long I remained like that, but it definitely wasn’t brief. Then I heard it – the sound of a key entering a lock, and turning. I lifted my head with some effort, but it was so dark I couldn’t see anything. The door opened, and light from the hallway entered the room, and the silhouette of a person was in the door. The light was switched on, and I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. It was too intensely bright after my captivity in total darkness. I refused to get my hopes up. It probably wasn’t Mike. It was probably a burglar who had picked the lock and was going to rob the apartment and kidnap me. At least he would have to untie me from the chair to spirit me away. That would be a small consolation. I imagined myself covered with a blanket, carried outside to the the burglar's car with my hands still encased in socks and tape, my mouth still gagged, and with my legs still bound together, and placed in the trunk. After a long ride, I would be carried into the burglar's home, carried into the basement, and placed on a mattress where my hands would be retied behind my back. But at least I wouldn't be in this damn chair any longer. Oh, my butt hurts so bad.

To be continued ...
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iliketights
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Post by iliketights »

Thirteen Cents, part 3

“How’s my favorite customer?” It was Mike’s voice. I should have been ecstatic to see him, but again, I refused to get my hopes up. I could imagine him saying, “So sorry, but I just popped in to say that there’s an emergency, and I can’t stay. You’ll be OK tied up like that until morning, won’t you?” I opened my eyes. It was still so bright, but my eyes were adjusting.

He looked down at me. “Oh, Courtney – you’re so beautiful, but you look like crap right now!”

Oh, that’s just great. That’s two guys in one evening who have insulted me. Once for my lack of intelligence and once for my appearance. I glared at him.

“Have you been crying? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

He went behind me, untied my gag, pulled the knot from my mouth, and tossed it on the floor. Drool dribbled from my mouth, but I was way beyond caring about my lack of dignity. While I tried to work some life back into my jaw muscles, he left and came back with a wet washcloth and hand towel. He gently wiped the saliva from my mouth, the dried tears from my cheeks, and the dried snot under my nose. When I was properly cleaned up and could move my jaw almost as normal, he held a water bottle up to my mouth. I drank greedily, some of it dribbling down my chin, but I didn’t care. I was thirstier than I realized. I suddenly realized how hungry I was too. Lunch had been eight hours ago, and I had been too excited to eat very much then. I moved my jaw back and forth. I could barely close my mouth – it had been held open in such an unnatural position for so long because of the gag. He gently massaged my jaw muscles. It felt very good, but I refused to thank him for the water or the facial massage. He deserved the silent treatment. I didn’t want to start screaming at him though. Not while I was still completely tied up and dependent on him to release me.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asked, after seeing the look in my eyes.

“You left me tied up and gagged for five hours. Because I owed you thirteen cents. Thirteen cents!”

“Well, you wanted to be tied up for two hours, so you’re only allowed to be angry about the final three hours.”

“OK then. I’m mad about three of the five hours.” I retorted. “The first two hours were very enjoyable.”

“I’m glad to hear that the first two hours met with your approval. We at Mr. Bond aim to please! That reminds me.” He pulled a card from his pocket. “Because your total experience was less than ideal, please accept this coupon for one free tie-up session. Everything is included – base fee, blindfold, gag, surcharge for extra-strict, and release fee. It’s an $80 value – completely free and with our compliments and apologies.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m not sure I ever want to be tied up again. I have had my fill for a long time.”

“Well, I’ll just place it on the coffee table in case you change your mind. You can also give it to a friend,” he said.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re willing to give me a coupon worth $80 for free, and it includes the release fee, but you were unwilling to release me earlier because I was thirteen cents short? Why the hell didn’t you give me that coupon five hours ago?”

“I’m not allowed to offer discounts on my own, but my boss gives me a few of these coupons to give to customers who aren’t totally satisfied. I didn’t know you were unsatisfied with our service until one minute ago.”

“Oh, that makes perfect sense,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He went behind the chair and started untying the rope that kept my feet held back under me. A second later I felt slack in the rope, and my feet hit the floor. “Oh,” I moaned in pleasure as I stretched out my legs in front of me. For the first time in five hours, I could see my own feet. My legs were still bound together by tight bands of rope around my ankles and above and below my knees, my back was still held firmly to the back of the chair, and my arms were still bound with enough rope to incapacitate a gorilla, but my least-favorite rope had been removed. Had he read my mind regarding which rope to remove first? I happily bent and unbent my knees countless times while he began to free my arms. He worked steadily but there were so many ropes that ten minutes passed, and my arms were still as motionless as before.

“Could you please just cut the ropes off?” I asked.

“Cut the ropes? Absolutely not! These ropes are some of the tools of my trade. Would you tell Bernini to throw away his chisels? Would you command Rembrandt to destroy his brushes?”

“What was I thinking?” I asked sarcastically.

“May I continue? Or do you want to make any more ridiculous demands?”

“Oh, please, forgive me for interrupting the great artist at his work. Carry on.”

Finally, after what seemed like another eternity had passed, every rope that had held me to the chair had been removed. My legs were still lashed together with rope and my hands were still encased, but I was so excited when I was merely sitting on the chair instead of tied to it.

“Oh, thank you! Please help me stand up! I can’t stay another second on this chair. My butt is killing me!”

“I think a butt massage is in order, then. Don’t worry – there is no charge for it,” he said as he helped me to my feet. My legs were so shaky that they could barely hold my weight, so he picked me up and carried me to the couch. He placed me on my stomach.

“At last, I’m free from that chair! Now start rubbing my behind,” I commanded. He reached under my skirt and started to massage my butt. Oh, it felt so wonderful! “I think you could do a better job if you take off my skirt. There’s a zipper on the side.”

“If I must,” he said. He unzipped my skirt and pulled it down my lashed-together legs until it went past my feet. He tossed it aside. I moaned with pleasure as he massaged and rubbed my sore butt through my opaque tights and panties.

“I don’t normally ask guys I just met to pull of my skirt and rub my butt, but I hope you’ll understand under the circumstances.”

“I’m all about providing good customer service,” he replied. He slowly moved his hands down my legs. I was getting an excellent massage from my waist to the tips of my toes.

“This feels heavenly,” I told him. “But most heroes, when they rescue a damsel in distress, would untie her legs first, and then massage them.”

“All in good time,” he replied as he bent my knees, bringing my feet up, and began to kiss each of my tights-covered toes. “You will be untied.”

“That’s good to know, but you’re taking your sweet time getting around to it,” I told him.

“Indeed I am. But, I did come back on my own time. I’m off the clock, so I can work at my own pace. In addition, I’m refunding your $9.87, so your release isn’t costing you anything. You have no reason to complain. And finally, I have a selfish reason for taking my time. You’re probably still pretty angry at me, and you will most likely kick me out once you’re completely free. I really like you. I’m trying to delay getting kicked out as long as possible. I also love your tights, and once you’re untied you’ll probably take them off.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? I promise I won’t kick you out. I’m starting to like you too. Even after my legs are untied, no, especially after my legs are untied, I’ll need you to stick around and give me a second leg massage. And I promise I’ll leave my tights on. So, could you untie my legs now? Please?”

“I think I’ll free your hands from their encasement first,” he said.

“That would be great too,” I said. He gently took my hands … and snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists behind my back!

“What are you doing?” I moaned. “You’re supposed to be untying me! I’ve been tied up for more than five hours already!”

“I am untying you. I’m going to free your hands from their socks and tape, and then I’ll untie your legs.”

“Then what are the handcuffs for?” I whined.

“Oh, that’s just to hold your hands still while I remove all the tape. Besides, when someone has been tied up as long and as thoroughly as you’ve been, it’s not good to release her all at once. It’s too abrupt and disconcerting to go from total helplessness to total freedom so fast. I need to ease you back into your former life a little more gradually.”

Of course, this was all total crap. I knew it, he knew it, and he knew that I knew it. He was going to free me on his own schedule, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He did keep his word, though, and he immediately began to unwind the tape from around my fists. When the tape was all gone, he pulled the pink socks off my hands. I had forgotten what it felt like to wiggle my fingers! I looked over at the chair to which I had been tied. There were piles of rope near it – rope that had made me one with the chair for so long. I was amazed that what looked like several pounds of rope had already been removed from me, and yet I was still more securely bound than any kidnapped girl I had ever seen in a movie! My legs were still bound together by ropes around my ankles, and above and below my knees. My hands were locked behind me in handcuffs.

He knelt on the floor and started rubbing my tights-covered butt again. “Courtney, I was wondering, … would you like to go out with me sometime?”

I was speechless for a moment. “Before I answer, I need to know one thing. Does my getting free of the rest of the rope and the handcuffs depend on how I answer that question?”

“Oh, no!” he said, flustered. “No, I swear! Whichever answer you give, I’m going to start untying your legs next. I’m sorry, I should have waited and asked you after you are free.”

“Well, in that case,” I said. “I can’t believe you would ask me that, whether it was before or after I’m untied! No, I won’t go out with you! You kept me tied up for an additional three hours because I owed you thirteen cents! … Who said you could stop massaging my butt? Keep it up. You owe me that much … And then, instead of immediately untying me right away, you take your time … rub my feet now … oh that feels so good … And then, on top of everything, you handcuff me? Then you have the nerve to ask me out, while I’m still bound and helpless?”

“No, you’re right. I’m so sorry,” he said. “Please forget I asked.” I could feel him picking at the knot on the rope that was tied around my ankles.

“Mike, forget my ankle rope for a minute. Come over here so I can see you.”

He knelt next to me. He was so good-looking! “Sorry, Mike. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s been a long day. … Could you rub my shoulders? Oh, yes, that’s perfect … I need to know one other thing. Do you always ask out your customers?”

“No! This is the first time. I just felt a connection with you, that’s all. Please forget I brought this up.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “It’s a little unprofessional and maybe unethical for you to ask out one of your customers. Especially when you’re in a position of power over me right now. There’s also one more concern I have about going out with you. I’m not sure I can date a guy who ties up other women for a living. I would always feel a little jealous every time you were at work.”

“No, I understand perfectly,” he said. He sounded sad.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I get to use this apartment for a week. Maybe in a couple of days, when I start to feel like it again, I’ll use the complimentary Mr. Bond coupon. On the one condition that it’s you who they send."

That seemed to cheer him up.

To be continued ...
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iliketights
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Post by iliketights »

Thirteen Cents, part 4

“Mike …”

“Yes?”

“This shoulder massage feels great! But, could you finish untying me now? I’m going to need to use the bathroom soon.”

“Oh, of course!” Mike said as he once again turned his attention to my lashed-together legs. The rope above my knees was removed first, then the rope below my knees. I was now restrained at only my wrists and ankles. Even after an unbelievable amount of rope had already been removed from my body, I was still essentially helpless and totally at Mike’s mercy. He began to pick at the knot that held my ankles, a task he had already started once before I interrupted his progress. I did not interrupt him this time though. At last, the knot came free, and he began to un-cinch and unwind the rope from my ankles. The last rope was pulled away, and my legs were now completely free! I moaned with pleasure as he massaged my tights-covered feet, ankles, calves, and thighs. Getting a leg massage this good made the long hours of tight rope bondage almost worth it. He stopped, and I almost protested. But then I could hear the jingle of keys, and I surmised that my handcuffs were about to come off. Within seconds the handcuffs were unlocked, removed, and tossed onto the floor.

Compete freedom! It had been almost five-and-a-half hours ago that Mike had begun my transformation from Courtney the college girl into Courtney the bound and gagged captive. I sat up, rather slowly, getting used to having control over my own arms and legs again. Mike asked me if was alright. Instead of answering in words, I threw my arms around him and hugged him. We held each other in a tight embrace for at least thirty seconds.

“Thank you!” I said.

“It was my pleasure to untie you,” he told me. “But are you forgetting that I’m the one who tied you up? I’m so sorry I left you tied up for so long.”

“I’m not thanking you for untying me … well, I am, but I’m also thanking you for tying me up! This was an incredible experience! I have to go to the bathroom … please don’t leave yet. I’ll be right back.”

I tried to stand up, but my poor legs were not yet recovered from their hours of tight bondage. Mike immediately understood, and he picked me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bathroom.

“Just stand me up in front of the sink. I can handle it from here,” I told him. He left and closed the door. I leaned against the sink for support for a moment. I looked at my hands. It was the first time I had been able to see them in a long time. They had been covered in a pair of socks, encased in tape, and then tied behind my back a little after 3:00 this afternoon. I then looked down at my stockinged feet. They too had been tied together and pulled beneath my chair and tied in place more than five hours ago. It was like I was getting to know my hands and feet again. I could actually move them independently again! My legs felt like phantom ropes were still bound around them, so I had to remind myself that I could now walk. My legs still felt weak from lack of use. I was definitely going to have a nice long jog tomorrow.

After I had completed my urgent task, I washed my hands and walked slowly to the door. My leg muscles were slowly returning to normal. I opened the bathroom door, and saw Mike standing there looking worried. He started to pick me up again, but I told him I really needed to stretch my legs. He relented, but insisted on holding my hand as I walked, in case I needed support. We returned to the living room, where I walked in circles and stretched.

“Thank you so much, Mike! I think I’ll be fine now. You’re off duty now, so you’re probably eager to get home. I’m starving, so I’m going to walk to the taco place down the street.”

“Oh, no you’re not!” he said. “A pretty girl like you walking alone this time of night, in this neighborhood? You’ll probably be kidnapped by some pervert who will take you to his place and turn you into his bondage toy. Besides, you don’t have any money. You couldn’t even afford the thirteen cents to buy your release, remember?”

“Yeah, but you refunded my $9.87, so that’s more than enough for my dinner.”

“I’ll drive you to the taco place. I insist, for your own safety. And I’m buying your dinner. It’s not a date. I’m just a guy buying dinner for a friend. A friend who I kept tied up for more than five hours. It’s the least I can do.”

“But …” I started to say.

“No arguments from you, young lady, or I’ll have to tie you up and gag you again until you see reason.”

I walked over to the coat rack and started to put on my coat. “Let’s get going then,” I said. “Every minute you spend talking brings me closer to starving to death. You can come with me, and you can pay for my dinner, but I insist that we walk instead of drive. I need the exercise. Let’s go,” I said as I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

“Well?” I said as I noticed he wasn’t following me.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked me.

“I don’t need any money,” I replied. “You said you were buying.”

“I will,” he replied. “But don’t you think you might need, oh, I don’t know, your SKIRT? And maybe your shoes too, so you don’t ruin your new tights?”

I looked down at my stocking feet, felt a little embarrassed about going out without shoes, and even more embarrassed about my missing skirt, and calmly walked back into the apartment and closed the door.

“If you insist,” I said, “but you’re the one who took off my skirt, so you should put it back on.”

He didn’t mind a bit, and he insisted on putting on my shoes for me too.

When we go back to the apartment, I asked him in. “I need for you to check the apartment for me. I don’t like the idea of some pervert hiding in here, waiting for you to leave so that he can turn me into his bondage toy. Then take off my shoes and skirt again and massage my legs before you go. If you don’t mind.”

After another massage, I helped him gather the handcuffs and all the ropes that had kept me helpless for so long. He carefully coiled each one as he packed it away. “These ropes will be waiting for you whenever you decide to use your free coupon.”

“Thanks, but I really can’t imagine wanting to be tied up again any time soon. Today was wonderful, but I think I got it out of my system for a good long time.”

When he got to the door, I stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss. It was a nice, long kiss. He said he hoped to see me again and left.

I locked the door behind him, went to brush my teeth, and climbed into bed. I didn’t even bother taking off my tights. I felt cozy in them under the blankets. I fell asleep immediately, and woke the next morning refreshed, even though I had a distinct memory of a dream in which I was once again hopelessly bound with Mike’s incredible pile of ropes. It wasn’t necessarily a bad dream. I padded into the living room, still wearing the opaque black tights I had on during my five-and-a-half hours of bondage. My tights reminded me of Mike and his massages, and I wasn’t yet ready to take them off. I fixed myself coffee and a healthy breakfast, and sat down in the very chair I had been bound to so securely for such a long time yesterday. I finished breakfast, cleaned up, and decided to change into my running clothes. A nice long jog followed by a hot shower would feel so good. As I was going to change my clothes, I glanced at the coupon for one free bondage session, which was still lying on the coffee table. I picked it up and almost ripped it up. I couldn’t bear the thought of being tied up again. My bondage obsession was cured, evidently. Strangely enough, my love of wearing tights had not diminished. I made a mental note to purchase more tights later today. I had a feeling I would want to be wearing some tonight as I worked on homework and watched television. For some reason, I didn’t rip up the coupon, though, and I placed the coupon, still whole, back on the table.

To be continued ...
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Post by Fordman »

I wonder what those new tights will be used for. Can’t wait to find out.
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Post by iliketights »

Hi Fordman!

Courtney thinks her bondage obsession has been cured. :lol: :lol: :lol:
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Post by MaxRoper »

Bondage for a fee is a great concept. I wonder if they're hiring.
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Post by iliketights »

Thanks MaxRoper! It would be a nice job to have, but maybe insist on having the right to pre-approve the client. I would at least want to see a photo first. :D
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Thirteen Cents, part 5

The coupon remained on the coffee table, tormenting me. I almost tore it into pieces several times, but each time I picked it up, I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and back to the coffee table it would go. I really didn’t want to get tied up again so soon – maybe never. Mike had cured me of my bondage obsession after he left me severely bound and gagged to a chair for five hours. So why did I keep his coupon for a free bondage session?

It was Saturday evening when I picked up the coupon one more time. Not to tear it up, but to read it. Mike had written his cellphone number on it. Who am I kidding? I was not cured. I am a bondage addict, and my unexpectedly long bondage session that went awry the previous day did nothing to change that. I did long to be tied up again, but only if it was Mike performing the rope and knot artistry that he did so well. I decided to leave it up to chance. Instead of scheduling my appointment through the Mr. Bond agency, I would text Mike directly. If he never responded, or if he told me to schedule through the Mr. Bond website, I would forget the whole thing. I didn’t want to just be another customer. Mike must have thought of me as more than just a customer for him to give me his personal number. In fact, he made it clear that he wanted to go out with me, before I rebuffed him. Maybe my refusal would make him not want to see me again. But, I’ll place it in the hands of fate.

I picked up my phone and sent him this message:

Hi Mike, this is Courtney. The one who lacked 13 cents. I’m ready to use the coupon for the free session if you’re still interested.

Short and sweet. The ball’s in his court. I looked at my phone and waited. I’m such a loser! I had told myself just this morning that I was done with bondage forever, and not even 24 hours later I’m impatiently waiting for my abductor to respond to my plea to be tied up again. I’m actually expecting him to respond immediately? He’s probably with another client. I felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of him tying up some other girl. I forced myself to stay busy so that I wouldn’t obsess about the phone.

Two hours later, I heard the sound of an incoming message. I eagerly grabbed my phone. It was Mike! It could still be a refusal. I took a deep breath and read it.

Courtney! Hell yes I’m interested! I can come over tomorrow 2 pm or day after at 4pm. Let me know!

I did not want to wait longer than possible. I immediately texted back “tomorrow at 2 it is.

The next day was Sunday. After church, I went to the gym and worked out. Then I hit the books (I’m a college student) to keep busy. I couldn’t wait to see Mike again! I fixed myself a quick, light lunch. I was almost too excited to eat. Mike was coming to tie me up! Why was it taking so long for 2:00 to arrive?

After lunch I cleaned up the kitchen, showered, and put on two items that I had recently purchased but had not worn yet. I started with a new pair of white opaque tights. If you have already read my story up to this point, you know that I’m a girl with very specific fetishes: full-footed opaque tights and bondage. I often wear tights without being in bondage, for example, when at school or out with friends. However, I would never consider being tied up without wearing tights. The two together, being tied up securely with rope while wearing tights was a heavenly combination. I pulled on the tights, enjoying the sensation of them sliding from the tips of my toes to my waist. Then I put on my new, long-sleeved pink leotard. Once I was sufficiently covered in skin-tight clothing from my toes to my neck, I looked myself over in the mirror. Perfect! Mike is going to love this.

I went into the living room, loving the feel of my new tights as I walked in stocking feet. If all went according to plan, I wouldn’t be able to walk around too much longer!

Two o-clock arrived, and Mike was punctual as always. I looked through the peephole. It was him! I was so excited. I opened the door and practically pulled him into the apartment. He closed the door behind him, and I hugged him and stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Wow, I love getting greeted like that!” he exclaimed.

I released him, and he looked me up and down. “Oh, you are so gorgeous, Courtney! Do I detect another new pair of tights?”

“Yes,” I said while twirling around. “Do you like them?”

“Absolutely! You look fit to be tied!”

“Just the look I was going for! Well, what are you waiting for? Start tying me up!”

“I love your enthusiasm!” he said. “But first, we have to discuss the details. Have a seat on the couch. I promise I’ll tie you up really soon.”

As soon as we sat down, he said, “Give me your feet.”

I swiveled on the couch and placed both of my feet on his lap. I was expecting him to tie my ankles together, but he didn’t yet unzip his duffel bag of rope. Instead, he began to massage my stocking feet while he asked questions.

“So, how do you want to be tied up today? Tied to a chair like last time?”

“No, I got my fill of being tied to a chair for a while. Maybe hogtied on the floor? Make sure it’s inescapable.”

“Oh, it will be,” he assured me. “How long do you want to remain tied?”

I thought for a moment. “Let’s say two hours this time. My five hour captivity on Friday really pushed me to my limits.”

“Do you want me to stay during the two hours? I don’t have any other appointments today.”

“No, do your thing and leave, and then come back after two hours. I really get off on the whole ‘tied up and abandoned’ thing.”

“What kind of gag would you like?”

“Surprise me,” I said with a smile.

“Would you like to be blindfolded?”

“Surprise me,” I said again.

“Well, this interview was surprisingly easy! Is there anything else?”

“No. Wait, yes there is,” I said, reaching over to pick up the coupon from the coffee table. I handed it to him, and said, “This coupon says that everything, including getting released, is free. I want you to verify that. I don’t want any misunderstanding on this.”

He read the coupon, front and back. “Yes, it says right here that everything, including releasing you, is free.”

“Good,” I replied. “I don’t want any ‘mishaps’ like last time. Now open up your bag of ropes and get to work.”

“Would you like to do some role-play this time? You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he said.

“Role-play? What do you mean?”

“Instead of just tying you up, we pretend that I’m a burglar and you’re my victim. It adds a little bit of excitement when I’m tying you up even though you’re begging me not to.”

I thought about it for a couple of seconds. “I like it! Let’s do it!”

“Now, you can beg and protest verbally, but don’t resist too much physically. I don’t want to get hurt,”

I rolled my eyes. “OK, I promise I won’t kick you in the groin or poke you in the eyes, or any of those self-defense things I learned about. I’ll beg for mercy, but I’ll keep the struggling to a minimum.”

“Great!” he said, letting go of my feet. “Go into the bedroom for a few minutes and let me get ready. Come out when you hear me knock on the door. I’ll say I’m with the gas company and need to come in and check for leaks. Invite me in.”

“The gas company?” I exclaimed. “Surely we can come up with something sexier than that! Let’s see … how about you’re a store detective, and I’m suspected of shoplifting several pairs of tights. You have to come in and inspect my tights, including the pair I’m currently wearing, to see if they came from your store. Of course, I’ll have lost the receipt to prove that I paid for them, and I’ll have to be physically restrained for your own safety during the inspection.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! But whatever, the story that gets me into the apartment doesn’t matter. OK, I’ll be the tights inspector. Come to think of it, that’s a job I would really enjoy. Now get yourself back there and wait for my signal.”

I kissed him on the cheek and squealed with excitement. I ran back to the bedroom and waited impatiently. I was soon going to be thoroughly tied up!

A few minutes later, I heard a knock on the front door. I nearly flew out of the room, but I made myself walk calmly. I had to keep in character – I was an innocent girl about to unknowingly let in my captor. I walked to the front door and reached out to turn the doorknob. Suddenly an arm wrapped around my upper body, while another hand clamped itself firmly over my mouth, stifling the real scream I tried to let out. Mike had tricked me! He had knocked on the door, but from the inside! I did not have to fake my shock and fear – he had taken me by surprise.

“Do exactly what I say, and you won’t get hurt,” Mike whispered in my ear. “I’m not a murderer or a rapist, so you will not be harmed. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. As long as you remain calm everything will be alright. Do not scream. Do you understand?”

I tried to nod my head, but he was holding me too firmly. I tried to make a sound indicating that I understood. He removed his hand from my mouth but continued to hold me tight – which I was enjoying despite my initial shock.

“Please, take whatever you want and go.”

“I will, but first I need to make sure you don’t cause any trouble for me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tie you up,” he said calmly, pulling a coil of rope out of his pocket with his free hand.

“Nooo …” I moaned. “Please, don’t tie me up. I promise I won’t do anything.”

He released me momentarily, just long enough to grab my wrists. He was surprisingly strong. I was trapped just as surely as if this were a real abduction. He pulled my wrists behind my back and placed my hands together, palm-to-palm. He easily held both of my wrists with one of his hands, while his other hand started applying the rope. Several coils of rope going horizontally around my wrists were then followed by secure cinching and a tight knot. I felt the familiar tingle in my stomach that I always feel when someone starts to tie me up. I was loving this, but I begged him to stop in order to stay in character. I tested my wrist bonds, but I already knew that I would never get out of this on my own.

He then pushed my elbows together until they touched behind my back, and then released them. I wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing. Then it became clear – he was testing my flexibility to see if my elbows could touch. I’m petite and flexible, which gave him the green light to bind my arms to a strictness I had never before experienced. Rope went around my elbows, and rather gently my elbows were pulled together until they touched. More cinching followed, and my arms were now together behind my back, from elbows to wrists. I gasped, with a mixture of shock, resignation, and excitement.

“Please untie me! You have no right to come in here and tie me up like this!”

He ignored my pleas and guided me to the couch and made me sit. It was to be the last walking I would be doing for quite a while.

He pulled more rope out of his bag and sat on the floor near my feet.

“No, please don’t tie my feet too!”

In spite of my begging, I felt a thrill as he grasped my ankles in his strong hands and put my feet together.

To be continued ...
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Post by MaxRoper »

Don't make us wait too long...
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Post by Fordman »

This story keeps getting better, thank you for part 5.
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Post by iliketights »

Thanks MaxRoper and Fordman. I'm just about ready to post some more.
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Post by iliketights »

Thirteen Cents, part 6

“No, please stop! I promise I won’t try to run!”

“That’s right, you won’t,” he said, and I immediately felt rope being wound tightly around my ankles. Once the rope was cinched and tied, my ankles were as securely bound as my wrists were.

He ran his hands up and down my legs. “I love your tights,” he said, and kissed each of my knees.

“If you untie me, I’ll give you my tights. You can take them with you, since you like them so much.”

“Thanks, but no,” he replied while selecting another coil of rope from his bag. “They’re so much better on you.”

He began to wind the rope around my legs, just below my knees. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Courtney,” I replied.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, cinching and tying a knot. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” I answered.

“Oh, I would have guessed seventeen,” he said. “Let’s stand you up for a minute.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I won’t let you fall.”

He helped me to my feet. It takes a bit of concentration to stand and remain balanced while your legs are tied together. He let go of me just long enough to pull more rope out of his bag.

“More rope? Seriously, I think I’m tied up enough.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m just getting started,” he said as he wound rope around my waist, as if it were a belt. I assumed he was going to tie my wrists to the rope belt, but he didn’t.

“What’s that rope for?”

“You’ll find out in a few minutes.”

He gently eased me down to the floor until I was lying on my side on the carpet. He took out more rope from his seemingly inexhaustible bag of restraints. I guessed that this rope was going to render me hogtied, and I guessed correctly. Soon my hands and feet were nearly touching behind my back. My bonds had now taken me beyond inescapability into near-immobility.

“Please, no, don’t do this to me,” I whimpered.

“I’m afraid I must. This will prevent you from getting to your feet and hopping around. It’s for your own safety. I don’t want you falling and getting hurt. Oh, before I forget, I am going to take a key to this apartment. If I decide to rob any other apartments in the area, I might stop back by and tighten any of your ropes that may have come loose.”

Very clever, Mike, I thought to myself. I had forgotten to give him a key so that he could come back to rescue me. If he had locked the door from the inside and pulled it shut without remembering to take a key, I would have been in a heap of trouble.

“It’s in my purse. Yes, the one on the blue key chain.”

“Very cooperative of you,” he said while slipping the key into his pocket. “Now I just need to rob you, and I’ll be on my way.”

He looked around and saw a pencil lying on the coffee table. I had been using it to do homework.

“Excellent. I need one of these. Well, thanks for letting me rob you.”

“You have got to be kidding me. You tied me up with, like, a mile of rope, so that you could steal a pencil? You can have the damn pencil, just please untie me. I definitely won’t call the police over a stupid pencil. Let me go and take the pencil, and I’ll forget this ever happened. Heck, I’ll give you a whole box of pencils!”

“Untie you? After I went to all this effort? I don’t think so.”

He disappeared for a couple of seconds, and then suddenly a cloth was being tied over my eyes.

“No! Why? Are you taking me somewhere?”

“No, you’re staying right here.”

“Then why do you need to blindfold me? This is just plain mean! There’s no reason for it! Please, if you have one shred of compassion in you, untie me! Please! I am begging you.”

“I’m sorry, young lady. You’re just going to have to stay tied up.”

“Mike isn’t coming for two hours. There’s no way I can stay like this for two hours!”

“Two hours? That’s nothing. Once I robbed a house and tied up a cute little cheerleader, exactly the way you’re tied up now. Her parents were gone on an overnight trip, and she remained like this for twelve hours before they rescued her. It made the local news.”

“You’re a monster! That poor girl!” I knew this was a made-up story, but I still shuddered at the thought of being tied up this severely for twelve hours.

“Don’t worry about her. I’m sure she was hungry and had to go to the bathroom really badly, not to mention being stiff and sore for a couple of days. But she’s young and flexible, and I’m sure she has enjoyed telling her exciting story to her friends. Her friends are probably jealous that it didn’t happen to them. Hey, who is this Mike you mentioned? Is he your boyfriend? Your brother?”

“No, he’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend, huh? Well, he’s a lucky guy to get to rescue such a gorgeous young lady. If I were Mike, I wouldn’t untie you until you promised to go out on a date with him. It’s the least you can do to reward him.”

“Unlike you, Mike is a gentleman. He wouldn’t issue an ultimatum like that while I’m all tied up.”

“Whatever. I still think you should go out with him.”

I was about to argue, but a soft cloth was suddenly pressed against my lips. I quickly closed my mouth.

“Open up,” he commanded.

I shook my head and protested through closed lips.

“Open your mouth.”

I refused again.

Suddenly my nose was pinched shut! I held my breath as long as I could and tried to squirm away, but it was futile. I soon involuntarily opened my mouth to breath, and he let go of my nose as he stuffed the cloth into my mouth. I later found out that the cloth in my mouth was one of the pink socks that had been placed over my hands and taped in place on Friday. I could hear the unmistakable sound of duct tape being peeled from its roll. I moaned in frustration as a I felt duct tape being placed over my lips. I thought he was going to tear off a piece or two of tape, but to my surprise he wound the tape completely around my head! And then completely around my head, again, and again … I think I counted five … five times around my head! The lower part of my face, from just below my nose to my chin was completely covered in tape. It was so tight. I couldn’t move my jaw at all. I screamed as loud as I could. It wasn’t even a pretend scream for our little roll playing game. I was panicking for real. My screaming was filtered by a sock and five layers of duct tape, so what came out was barely audible.

“Oh, yes. I almost forgot. You wanted to know what the rope belt around your waist is for.”

I could feel him tug at the rope around my waist, and it became evident that he was tying another piece of rope to it. Was he going to tether me to something to restrict my movements even further? I couldn’t see how I could be tied anymore securely than I was already, but he had a way of surprising me. I soon found out that this last rope was not to tether me to something, but rather one final indignity that was to be imposed upon my already helpless body. I could feel his hand being inserted between my tightly lashed-together legs from the front, and I thought he was going to molest me while I lay there unable to move or protest (I really wished he would). His other hand came to me from behind and squirmed its way in the tight space between my legs right under my butt. I moaned with pleasure as his knuckles rubbed against a hyper-aroused part of my body, with only tights and a leotard separating us. I discovered that his touching me down there was only incidental to his real purpose – he was inserting a rope between my legs. One of his hands was pushing the rope in, and his other hand was trying to grab the end of the rope to pull it out from behind me. He removed his hands from between my legs and pulled on the end of the rope. I thought I was going to pass out from surprise and arousal when the rope was pulled taught. He pulled it up and under the rope belt behind me, and then tied the end to the rope that was keeping me hogtied. This pulled and held my wrists and ankles even closer to my body. I thought then that the rope between my legs was to further restrict the movement of my hands and feet, which indeed it did, but I later found out that it had another purpose.

Evidently he decided that I was sufficiently trussed up. He tickled the soles of my stocking feet for a few seconds as a final torment, and then I could hear him gathering his things.

“Please Mike! Untie me! I’ve changed my mind. I’ve had enough. I don’t want to do this anymore!” is what I tried to say, but nothing but unintelligible mumblings escaped my massively gagged mouth.

I heard him turn the doorknob.

“Enjoy your evening, Courtney. I hope Mike doesn’t experience any delays coming to your rescue.”

I heard him leave and the door closed. The deadbolt slid into place with a key being turned from the other side of the door. I screamed, but no one was going to be coming to my rescue anytime soon.

To be continued ...
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Post by TightsBound »

I’m so glad you were able to continue this story from the old site! And what a great continuation! The tie, the white tights (my favorite), and the crotch rope all make for a very good chapter. Can’t wait for more!
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Post by Deleted User 961 »

That last part was amazing, especially the tight wrap around gag. Please keep going.
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Post by Radames0674 »

I agree totally!
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Post by iliketights »

Thanks TightsBound, Hojojutsutengu, and Radames0674! I appreciate the comments! I should have another part posted soon.
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Post by jayarieldrillowup »

A very wonderful story indeed to read.
'And behold one arose who once was thought to be dead and he spoke saying,"Heaven said I was too evil and hell said I was too good." Now he wanders forever as an immortal with magic as his birthright and as his curse.'
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Post by iliketights »

Thanks jayarieldrillowup! Next installment is almost ready.
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Post by iliketights »

Thirteen Cents, part 7

I have been tied up enough times that I know the stages of emotions that I would go through. The first stage is panic. I was bound tightly with ropes at my wrists, elbows, waist, knees, and ankles. My wrists and ankles were connected by a short rope holding me into a strict hogtie, and my wrists and ankles were further restricted by the rope that was connecting the hogtie rope behind me to my waist rope in front of me. I was blindfolded and gagged severely by a sock that had been stuffed in my mouth and secured in place with duct tape over my mouth that had been wound around my head at least five times. I could not move, speak, or see. I was utterly alone. I screamed for Mike to come back, but I knew he was gone. I instinctively tried to thrash around in a desperate attempt to escape, but the many ropes held me almost completely immobile. I heard some people talking as they walked down the hallway just outside the door. I screamed for help, but I was gagged too well for anyone to hear me. It was just as well that I was so severely gagged, because having to explain to the police that I had arranged to be tied up would have been embarrassing beyond belief.

Eventually my panic began to wear off, and I could feel my heart rate slowing. I was entering what I call the ecstasy phase. This phase always made the panic, discomfort, and suffering worthwhile. This was my drug, my “bondage high”, my obsession, the reason why I ask men to tie me up. I again began to struggle, but this time with pleasure instead of a frantic effort to get free. Mike certainly knew how to make ropes super-tight without impairing circulation. Ropes were compressing me everywhere. It felt sooooo good.

As I struggled and became more aroused, my crotch rope began to assert itself in a new and wonderful way. Before, I thought of it as just an anchor for the hogtie rope that was connected to it, but now its other purpose was making itself known. It was rubbing me in very pleasurable ways. I had decided to skip panties, so my tights and leotard were the only things separating the crotch rope and a very sensitive part of my body. Through experimentation, I found that the maximum pleasure I could achieve, in my current state of near immobility, was to thrust my hips forward while simultaneously pulling my wrists and ankles away from my back the fraction of an inch they were permitted. Oh, but what that fraction of an inch could do! The crotch rope tightened, pleasuring me in the only way possible since the use of my hands was denied to me. Flexing and releasing, flexing and releasing – I soon found a rhythm that maximized my pleasure. An observer watching me would have assumed I was struggling to escape, but nothing could be farther from the truth. If all the ropes had suddenly magically disappeared from my body, I would have been the most disappointed person on the planet. No, escape was not my intention. I was humping that crotch rope at a slowly increasing rate. I told myself to stop and pace myself, in order to prolong the ecstasy as much as possible, but my body was acting independent of my brain, and there was no stopping. Faster, faster, faster …

I then experienced – lying on the floor of my ex-boyfriend’s apartment, bound hand and foot, gagged, blindfolded, and hogtied – the best orgasm I have ever experienced in my life. It was explosive. Fortunately I was severely gagged, or the entire apartment building would have been alarmed by my screams. My tightly bound body was racked with involuntary shudders and convulsions. Ohhhh, that felt sooooo good. Exhausted but satisfied, I relaxed. I think I even dozed off for a few minutes.

As always happens, the ecstasy phase eventually faded away to be replaced by the boredom phase. This is the point at which, if I had not been gagged and if my captor had been in the room, I would have said, “I’m ready to be untied now … hello … please untie me now.” I could do absolutely nothing, and I didn’t even have the ability to look around as a distraction. My world was reduced to the small patch of carpet I was in contact with. I had satisfied my bondage “itch” and was ready to get on with my life.

Probably because of the severity of my bondage, the boredom phase quickly gave way to the final phase, the one I think of as the suffering phase. I knew it would come. It was unfortunate that the suffering phase always lasted much longer than the ecstasy phase and the boredom phase combined. So why did I continue to ask men to tie me up, when I knew it would become so unpleasant? That’s what I always asked myself at this point. Was it because the joyful part made the bad part worth it? Was I a masochist and enjoyed the pain even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself? It was probably a combination of both. All I knew for certain was that the ropes that had recently felt like a loving embrace were now a means of torture. My legs were cramping, and I longed to be able to unbend my knees. The rope holding my elbows together behind my back was getting more painful by the minute. Even the crotch rope, which had given me one of the best experiences of my life, was rapidly becoming an irritant. I moaned sadly into my gag. Please, Mike, come soon and untie me!

I had no idea how long it would be before Mike would return. I wish I had at least have insisted on no blindfold, so that I could see a clock. I needed to change position, but I could barely move. I was finally able to squirm my way into lying on my stomach, which relieved some of the discomfort in my neck. Unfortunately, the crotch rope tightened painfully for some reason, so I rolled to my right side. This was the limit of motion that my hogtie allowed: rolling from left side to stomach to right side, and back again. Every change in position brought different discomforts and painful tightening of bonds. The amount of effort to move even that much soon left me completely exhausted. Surely this time would forever cure me of wanting to be tied up ever again. I was in misery. Tears began to moisten my blindfold.

Time passed, and I was beginning to lose hope of ever again knowing the feeling of freedom of movement, sight, and speech.

Finally, I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, and then the sound of the door opening.

“Did you miss me?” came the familiar sound of Mike’s voice. “I sure missed you.”

I could feel his fingers caressing my stocking feet. “Are you ready to be freed?”

In response, I could only nod my head and whimper like a puppy. He began to untie the hogtie rope, and soon the rope came loose, and I was able to unbend my knees. I stretched my legs and sighed with relief. The other consequence of having my hogtie rope removed was that the crotch rope suddenly went slack. What a relief!
The relief was short-lived, however. He must have grabbed the free end of the crotch rope, and he was pulling it back, so that it dug into me even more than it had before! He lay down behind me and placed one hand on my breasts, began kissing the back of my neck, and began to slowly pull and release my crotch rope in a rhythmic manner. I squealed into my gag, begging him to stop, but he continued. About every third pull of the crotch rope, he would also pluck it like a guitar string. We were nestled together like spoons on the floor, and his caresses, kisses, warm breath on the back of my neck, and his artistry with the crotch rope on my tightly bound body soon had me going out of my mind with arousal. He stuck his tongue in my ear and I exploded with my second orgasm of the afternoon. His tugging and plucking on the crotch rope slowed and eventually stopped. I was a trembling, quivering mess now that he was done with his crotch rope magic. He still held me from behind, and reached around in front of me to untie the end of the crotch rope from the rope that was tied around my waist. The crotch rope was now free, and he pulled it from between my legs and tossed it aside. He continued to rub my chest and kiss the back of my neck, while I sighed contentedly through my gag.

To be continued ...
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jayarieldrillowup
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Post by jayarieldrillowup »

Ah romantic bondage is hard to resist from a very handsome captor/boyfriend to be.
'And behold one arose who once was thought to be dead and he spoke saying,"Heaven said I was too evil and hell said I was too good." Now he wanders forever as an immortal with magic as his birthright and as his curse.'
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Post by Deleted User 93 »

Excellent job :D Please continue.
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TightsBound
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Post by TightsBound »

Oh my, that was a great chapter! It’s like you looked inside my mind and read my fantasies. :D
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