A New Hobby Part 4: The Sock Incident (ff/self, F/ff)

[Weird Aunt Ettie]

A New Hobby

by Weird Aunt Ettie

Part 4: The Sock Incident

The combination of the UK’s Covid-19 lockdown and my daughters’ school Easter holiday, gave the middle of April an unstructured feel, especially when I took a few days leave from working at home. There were days when we had to think hard even to work out what day of the week it was.

Nevertheless there was a buoyant mood in the house following my younger daughter Liz’s sponsored haircut and head shave. Almost immediately after the event, it was obvious that the fundraising target was going to be exceeded.

In the build-up to Liz’s haircut, my sister had inadvertently spilled the beans that she and I had been equally enthusiastic at tying each other up as kids as the new generation seemed to be. In the course of a Zoom chat, she and I had referred to an event from our youth that we called The Sock Incident. My big sister, Stella (3 years older than me), is a Church of England vicar at a parish not far from the seaside village in the North East of England where I live with my daughters. Accordingly, she is quite a busy lady trying to look after her congregation while the church is closed. This involves a lot of one-on-one chats either via Zoom or on the phone. many of the congregation are quite old with health issues, so there can be time-consuming follow up either with the Health Service or Social Services. This precluded further discussion of the Sock Incident when it first came up. However Stella promised to remedy this at the first possible opportunity.

This came up at breakfast time one morning. Liz said that she was planning to organise a Zoom chat with Stella to give her some feedback on the sponsored haircut and head-shave. Alice immediately pointed out that they were due a full description of the sock incident.

“I’ll text and see if she’s available,” Liz said, reaching for her phone.

Stella is generally very good at responding to texts, even if just to send a holding reply, but nothing came through as we ate our breakfast. The conversation moved on to our plans for the day. As I mentioned, I wasn’t working that day but I was planning to spend some time at the computer sorting out photographs. The girls had an experiment in escapology that they wanted to do, but wouldn’t divulge what it was.

We cleared away the breakfast things, I made myself another mug of tea and settled down at my computer, closing my office door behind me. About 11.30, I received a text from Stella suggesting 2.30 for the Zoom chat. She commented that she had texted Liz some time before but hadn’t had a reply and wondered if perhaps Liz wasn’t in a position to reply. I replied with a ROFL emoji and went to investigate.

I knew that the girls had been sorting out school uniform tights a few days before. The school, uniform rules allow girls to choose either trousers or skirt with opaque black tights. My two girls tend to base this choice on the season and temperature. (And sometimes go for thick tights under trousers on really cold days.) Tights for school had to be either 100 denier opaque nylon or knit tights and had to be free of ladders and holes. As both girls were also growing, the sort-out involved discarding the unwearable and the ones that Liz had outgrown. Some of Alice’s could also be passed to Liz if they were in good enough condition.

It turned out that my resourceful daughters had found a good use for the discarded tights. Each girl was spreadeagled face-up on her bed. Both girls have beds ideally suited to this. Liz’s is on old-fashioned brass bedstead, with head and foot constructed from brass tubes while Alice’s is much the same idea but a modern design welded from steel bars and tubes. Their duvets had been dumped on the floor and they were just lying on the the bottom sheet of their beds. They both had their wrists and ankles tethered to the corners of their beds with what looked like separate legs cut from black nylon tights. They were also both blindfolded and cleave gagged with legs cut from knit tights. Each of them was wearing a pair of ribbed black winter tights and a T-shirt (yellow for Liz and pink for Alice). Terrible mother that I am, I just burst out laughing. Even worst mother that I am, I went straight back to my office for my phone, photographed the scene and WhatsApp-ed the pictures to my sister. The response was almost immediate: three emoji: heart, ROFL and thumbs-up.

The silence in the room was broken by Liz mumbling something incomprehensible. The tone sounded more like “Do something” rather than distress, so rather than embarking on a panic rescue I just went across to her and untied her gag. The gag was more than I had anticipated. It was basically one leg of a pair of black winter knit tights, but a balled-up handkerchief had been pushed down inside the leg. The bulge created by the handkerchief was inside Liz’s mouth and the tights leg had been wrapped around her head a second time, also going between her teeth and holding the hanky-filled part in place. Finally, the ends were double-knotted behind her head.

Liz said something that sounded like “Gweeurgh” and swallowed a couple of times before saying “Thanks, Mum” in a slightly croaky voice.

“I take it you’re both stuck,” I said.

“I certainly am,” Liz replied.

“Alice seems to be in the same predicament.”

“Thought so.”

“Were you expecting to escape from this?” I asked, still quite impressed at what they’d managed to do to themselves.

“We thought it would be tricky, but the idea was that I could reach my gag with the fingertips of one hand and then untie the knot at that wrist with my teeth.”

“But you couldn’t reach?”

“Umm... no.”

“How did you manage to get everything so tight?”

“That was Alice’s idea. We did our ankles first then grabbed the bars at top of the bed with our hands and pulled ourselves up as far as we could so the old tights on our ankles would be stretched out as much as they would go. There was enough friction between our clothes and the sheet not to slip back down immediately. We’d already adjusted the lengths of the tights to for our wrists, so it was just a question of popping our hands through the loops and pulling the slip-knots tight. With a bit of wriggling, the tension on hands and feet sort of evened out.”

“And all the slack you thought you might have just disappeared?”

Before Liz could reply, Alice reminded us of her presence by mumbling something incomprehensible through her gag.

“OK, sweetie,” I said. “I’ll get Liz free first then sort you out.”

Liz had still been blindfolded through our conversation, so I rectified that by untying the tights leg that was wrapped around her eyes. She blinked in the light as I fumbled with the knot securing her left wrist (the one nearer me).

“You said this was a slip-knot? I can’t get it to un-slip.”

“You probably won’t,” Liz confirmed. “It’s a kind of hitch that Alice found out about that only slips one way.”

Alice mumbled something that might have been the name of the knot, but all I gathered was that it probably had three syllables. “I’ll get some scissors,” I said.

I wasn’t sure where the girls kept their scissors but I knew where mine were. I returned to my office briefly and returned brandishing a pair. With some difficulty, I hooked a finger through the binding on Liz’s left wrist to avoid touching her skin with the point of the scissors and snipped through the nylon. It took only a few seconds to do the same with her other wrist and her ankles, taking care not to damage the tights she was wearing.

Liz swung her feet off the bed and sat up. “Did I look like that?” she asked, catching sight of her sister, who was still bound, gagged and blindfolded.

“You did,” I confirmed. “And I have photos to prove it.”

Freeing Alice took only a minute or so.

“So what were the clever knots?” I asked.

“Buntline hitches.”

I shook my head. “New one on me.”

“It’s a surprisingly common knot. It’s actually the same as you use on a necktie.”

“But you can slip those undone,” I objected.

“Yes, but if you pull it really tight, the knot jams and won’t undo. Obviously you don’t want to do that with it round your neck. If you tied one of these round something with rope, you’d need to use a marlin spike to get it undone.”

“Why would anyone want a knot like that?” I asked. “Apart from doing what you two did to yourselves.”

“The clue is actually in the name,” Alice explained. “It seems that ‘buntlines’ are the ropes that go to the bottom corners of the sails on a square-rigged sailing ship. I’m guessing you want knots that won’t ever come undone for that.”

“Makes sense,” I acknowledged. “However, what I actually came through to tell you was that Stella messaged me to suggest 2.30 for a Zoom chat. She also said she messaged Liz quite a long time ago but didn’t get an answer. Would it be rude to ask just how long you two were tied up?”

Alice glanced at her alarm clock; it was nearly 12 noon. She looked at her sister, who replied with an almost imperceptible nod. “Nearly two hours,” she said, a little sheepishly.

“Probably just as well you’re both young and fit,” I pointed out. “And just as well you didn’t do it when I was out.”

Both girls replied with slightly embarrassed nods.

“Maybe tell me when you’re planning a stunt like that?” I suggested. “Anyway, say 1 o’clock for lunch, so we’ve time to eat and then clear up before Zoom?”

“Sounds OK,” Liz said, relieved at the change of topic. “That gives us time to take Marmalade for a walk first.”

(Marmalade is our dog, a beautifully friendly Labradoodle.)

I went to the kitchen to organise some lunch. The weather was bright and sunny, but not particularly warm, so I thought a quick risotto would go down well. As I was pulling the ingredients together the girls came through the kitchen with Marmalade, heading for the scullery (where coats and boots are kept) and the back door.

Since her head shave, Liz had discovered how cold a person’s head can get without hair. She had taken to wearing a woolly hat around the house but said that she needed something more serious for outside if it was at all windy as her neck got cold too. The door between the kitchen and scullery is glazed, so I could see the girls putting on their outdoor clothes. I was amused to note that Liz had chosen to wear a grey balaclava, leaving only her eyes showing.

My daughters timed their return perfectly. I was ready to serve the risotto as they and marmalade trooped into the kitchen. They had jettisoned their outdoor layers were back to the T-shirt and tights combo they had worn earlier, with the addition of a sweater each. Liz had swapped her balaclava for the blue woolly hat she had been wearing earlier.

After eating, it took us just a few minutes to do the washing up. We decided that having all three of us crowded round one screen was a bit of a squeeze, so the girls went to the room they used as a combined art and craft and homework space, where they kept their computers, while I returned to my office. We all had separate email invitations to the Zoom session. As it happened, I got in a couple of minutes ahead of the girls, who were sharing Alice’s laptop.

Stella was waiting for me.

Stella: Great photos, Morgan. Did you untie them eventually?

(I go by Morgan, which is actually my middle name.)

Me: It was tempting just to leave them but it turns out they’d been tied up and stuck for a couple of hours.

Stella: I’ve said it before, they’re definitely your kids.

Me: I’m beginning to appreciate what Mum went through with us two.

Stella: Have you told her yet?

Me: Mum? I’ve told her about a couple of the incidents. I’ll need to tell her about today’s too.

Stella: What does she say about it?

Me: She’s highly amused. She did say something about the sins of the daughters being visited on their mothers.

Stella: (laughing) I ought to have thought of that one.

Both girls: (joining the Zoom session) Hi, Auntie Stella!

Stella: Hi, you two. Hat off, Liz – I want to see this bald head of yours.

Liz removed her hat to reveal her shaven scalp. I noticed that she instinctively shook her head as she would to loosen her hair after freeing it from the confines of a hat. Liz turned around slowly so Stella could see the full glory of her bare head.

Stella: How does it feel?

Liz: Odd. I hadn’t realised how heavy a head of hair must be; my head feels very light now.

Stella: And cold if you’re wearing a hat indoors.

Liz: Not just my head. My neck feels cold too.

Stella: Useful stuff, hair.

Alice: What we really wanted to talk about was the Sock Incident. You promised you’d tell us about it next time we were on Zoom together.

Stella: I did, didn’t I? Well, we can only destroy our dignity once, so we’d better get on with it. Can you set the scene, Morgan?

Me: We’d set a whole series of escape challenges to each other. I was a bit quicker at escaping than Stella was, so it became something of an arms race, involving more and more rope.

Stella: The fact was that Morgan was much better than me both at tying up and escaping. Alice, as a big sister, I’m sure you agree that you need to keep ahead of little sisters at some things.

Alice: Definitely.

Liz gave her sister a good-natured poke in the ribs with her elbow.

Stella: So one evening after school, I threw everything I had at Morgan. I tied her to a chair with every inch or rope we possessed. Basically, I tied her wrists behind the chair back and tied her ankles to the front legs of the chair then kept going. Rope around her waist, rope around her chest, over both shoulders, over her lap, round her knees and the tops of the chair legs, then just more and more till I ran out.

Me: I think it took her over half an hour to do all that.

Liz: And gagged?

Stella: Rolled up dish towel between her teeth. I was pretty pleased with the result and I got our mum to see what I had done. She seemed impressed but I’m not sure if it was the quality or the quantity of the tying.

Me: And I escaped.

Stella: And she escaped in less time than it had taken to tie her up!

Me: Not sure about that. There was an awful lot of rope there and it made it really hard to get my hands out. It was hard work too.

Stella: I was so disappointed. And then to add insult to injury, she said she could tie me up just using a pair of socks.

Me: OK, I was showing off by saying that.

Stella: Showing off, but you delivered. You tell them, Morgan.

Me: This was the following evening. Before I go on do you two know how to tie a Tomfool knot?

There were blank faces on the girls as they shook their heads.

Me: OK, watch.

I took a ball of string out of my desk drawer, snipped off about half a metre and held it up so that it was in front of my laptop’s camera.

Me: Now keep watching. I’m going to tie a bow in this string and I want you to time me. Three, two, one...”

There are videos of how to do this knot on YouTube. With practice, you can do it and produce what looks like a bow in one second flat. I was a bit out of practice, so maybe it took me two seconds.

Me: Ta-daa!

Both girls burst out laughing.

Alice (still laughing): Much too fast to time!

Me: It’s not actually a real knot. I didn’t have to handle the ends of the string at all. And watch what happens when I pull the ends.

I held the completed knot up to the camera and pulled the ends of the string steadily. The two loops shrank down in size and suddenly, the whole knot disappeared. There was another burst of laughter.

Me: Now, if I retie the knot...

I did so.

Me: ...imagine that I have someone’s hands, maybe Aunt Stella’s, through these loops when I pull the ends.

I pushed my index fingers through the loops and tightened the knot somewhat awkwardly with my remaining fingers. I wiggled my index fingers for effect as the loops tightened.

Me: Now if you just double-knot the ends together so it can’t slip undone, you’ve got your prisoner. It would be very painful with string or thin rope because it would cut into the skin and probably do a lot of damage, but something soft, like a long sock would work well and not hurt.

Liz: And this is the Sock Incident?

Stella: Strictly, it’s Sock Incident Round One.

Me: Well, you’ve already worked out where this is going. I used a pair of thick knee-length socks and tied Stella’s wrists behind her back with one and her ankles with the other. I gloated for a bit while she discovered that she was properly stuck then I used another pair of socks to gag and blindfold her and left her to squirm on our bedroom floor.

Stella: And properly stuck I was. I managed to rub the blindfold off on the carpet but I couldn’t budge anything else. We had a time limit of 90 minutes so I remained stuck until our mum rescued me.

Liz: Not our mum?

Stella: No, not Morgan, she thought it was much better if our mum, your Grandma, saw how clever she’d been. She was watching, still gloating.

Me: Oh dear, I really was the little sister from hell.

Stella: Only sometimes. Anyway once I was free, I told our mum that I would do the same thing to Morgan next time we did a challenge. She just smiled and said that if I wanted, she would show me how to make it much better.

Alice: This was to even things up?

Stella: Exactly so. She and I managed to get some time alone and she demonstrated a most excellent tie-up on me and coached me on how to do it.

Liz (excitedly): Sock Incident Round Two!

Stella: Ding-ding! Seconds out! Not that we had seconds, of course. A key part of Round Two is that it happened on a Friday evening, which was also Girl Guides night for me.

Me: But not Sea Scouts night, which was a Wednesday.

Stella: I looked out four pairs of socks and issued my challenge to Morgan. She was a little contemptuous, pointing out what she had done with one pair but accepted the challenge. The first pair of socks went over her hands, like a pair of gloves. I told her that they were to prevent her wrists getting rubbed like mine had been, but of course they also stopped her using her fingers to untie knots. I tied her wrists behind her back using a Tomfool knot just like the one she had used on me then I told her to get down on the floor on her tummy.

Liz (really excited): I know where this is going!

Alice: Shhh!

Stella: I got her to bend her knees and cross her ankles then I used a pair of socks to tie them together, one sock going north-south and the other east-west. I used the partner of the one round Morgan’s wrists to link her wrists and ankles. I tied the middle of it round the middle of the Tomfool knot then tied the two ends together on the further-away side of the socks tying her ankles where she couldn’t get at it. I pulled that sock tight so her heels were nearly touching her bottom.

Alice: That’s what you call a hog-tie isn’t it?

Stella: It certainly is, although I don’t think we knew that term then. I used the last pair of socks to blindfold Morgan and gag her. Following my mum’s advice, I made sure the gag had a knot in the middle to go in Morgan’s mouth and that the knot on the gag was above the one on the blindfold so that she couldn’t rub it off on the carpet.

Liz: Wow!

Stella: And I went off to Guides, confident that Morgan could escape from anything. I hoped it might take her a while, but it had been so long since I had beaten her in an escape challenge that I was sure she would get out eventually.

Alice: Wrong?

Stella: Dead wrong. I got back from Guides some time after 9 o’clock. Mum was in the kitchen when I came in through the back door. She looked surprised when I shut the door. “No Morgan?” she asked.

Liz: Oops.

Stella: Oops. It was a reasonable question: Morgan occasionally accompanied me to Guides as a guest, just as I occasionally accompanied her to Sea Scouts as long as no actual sailing was involved. However, I knew instantly where Morgan was if she hadn’t been seen all evening. I think my face must have given everything away because my mum and I went straight to the bedroom without another word being said. Morgan was still more-or-less where I’d left her. Her state of dishevelment and the rucked up rug on the floor suggested that a lot of unsuccessful struggling had been going on. I think she’d been tied up for over three hours.

Alice: Very oops.

Stella: Still without saying anything, we set to work to untie Morgan. I was far more concerned about my sister than any consequences for me so it was only when she was completely free and we knew she was unharmed that I realised how much trouble I was in.

Alice: It must have really hurt being tied up that long, though?

Me: I had the sense to stop struggling when I realised I was getting nowhere but my shoulders were a bit sore from the position they’d been in and my wrists were a bit rubbed, even with the extra layer of socks. I was basically unharmed, like Stella said, but very glad to be free.

Liz: And were you in trouble, Aunt Stella?

Stella: Oh, yes. Trouble with a great big capital T and an exclamation mark. Our mum made it clear that I hadn’t heard the end of this. It was only when I thought over what I’d done that I got really worried. Punishment in our family was usually loss of privileges. I could see myself being grounded for the rest of my life. With those thoughts and the shame of what I’d done to Morgan, I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night.

Me: I, on the other hand, was so exhausted I could have slept in a tree. I woke up about the middle of Saturday morning and saw that Stella was already up. I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face then went through to the kitchen to find some food, as normal breakfast time was long past. That’s when I found out what had happened to Stella.

Stella: I was up long before the rest of the family and our mum and dad found me drinking tea in the kitchen. I felt too sick to eat anything. It was pointed out to me that once Morgan had agreed to my challenge, I had taken on responsibility for her safety. They agreed that my assumption that Morgan would escape was a reasonable one, given her track record, but that didn’t absolve me of my responsibility. I fully understood and freely accepted that I was at fault and had blown it big time. Mum also made the point that although Morgan had agreed to the challenge, leaving her tied up for so long meant that she was tied up when she didn’t want to be, even though she hadn’t been bullied or coerced. She gave me a choice: I could be grounded for a month and miss out on all the activities I usually took part in or I could be tied up for the rest of the day to understand what it was like to be tied up when I didn’t want to be.

Alice: And you chose to be tied up?

Stella: Yes, for two reasons. One, out of solidarity with my sister after what I’d put her through and, two, because getting my punishment over in a single day was an attractive proposition.

Me: As our mum and dad knew it would be.

Stella: And I discovered just how good my mum was at tying me up. I was still in pyjamas when she and Dad found me in the kitchen but she gave me the chance to wear whatever I would be most comfortable in. I knew from experience that lots of clothes give the best protection from ropes...

Liz: Yes, we’ve discovered that too.

Stella: ...so I layered up. Big thick sweater and dungarees over woolly tights with thick socks on top. Mum tied me to one of the kitchen chairs, with about half the amount of rope that I’d used on Morgan a few days before, and far more effectively. You want the details?

Both girls: Yes please!

Stella: OK, legs tied together at the ankles and knees and the ropes fastened off to the chair legs. Rope over my lap and under the chair seat. More rope around my waist and the back of the chair. Even more fastened to the top of the chair back, over my shoulders and around my chest just below my arms. Mum made me wear a pair of socks over my hands then tied my wrists so they were crossed in front of my chest like an Egyptian mummy. She secured that binding to the ropes that were already around my chest and then added a few more turns to pin my upper arms to my sides. She gagged me with a dish towel between my teeth and blindfolded me with a scarf.

Me: And it was a hell of a shock finding you like that.

Alice: This is a whole new light on Grandma!

Liz: Did she really leave you tied up all day?

Stella: She untied me in the early afternoon so I could use the toilet and have a drink and a snack then tied me up again.

Liz: Just the same again?

Stella: Nearly. She tied my hands behind the back of the chair and tied my legs to the chair legs just so I wouldn’t be in the same position all day. She untied me at tea time and I was really glad to be free by then.

Me: We were both much more careful about tie-ups after that.

Liz: Wow!

Alice: Thanks for telling us. It was all a bit more personal that I was expecting.

Stella: I’m sure all the family secrets would have got out eventually. Now, parish duties call. I need to do some phone calls and video chats to a few more people this afternoon so I’ll have to bail out now.

Liz: OK.

Stella (waving): Bye then.

Girls and me (waving back): Bye!

The Zoom window disappeared as Stella cut the connection.

I had just taken my headphones off and was rubbing my ears when the girls trooped into my office.

“So that’s blown any idea that Stella and I are in any way reliable,” I said.

“No, just human,” Alice replied. “Aunt Stella does tell the story well, though.”

“So, I really want to make some more progress with these photos, what are you two going to do next?” I asked.

“We don’t have much that needs doing. Maybe you could show us how the Sock Incident works.”

“I thought that might be coming,” I sighed. “Right now?”

Both the girls nodded cheerfully.

“You do realise that this might be another one you can’t get out of?” I pointed out. “If you’re stuck, you’re stuck till I stop at teatime.”

The girls looked briefly at each other, then Liz replied, “We’ll take our chances.”

“Better take a trip to the bathroom than. It might be a while before your next chance.”

The girls nodded their assent and then headed off. I went to their room to choose the beat socks to use for immobilising them.

I had four pairs of socks laid out on each girl’s bed when they returned to their room. “Right,” I said, “who’s firat.”

There was that slightly uncanny moment of apparent telepathy between the girls, then Liz said, “Me, please.”

“OK, I’ll show you the Tomfool knot first.”

I took one long socks and repeated the demonstration I had done over Zoom earlier, but did it much more slowly. It’s still quite an effective trick as the bow still seems to appear from nowhere. I then pulled the ends of the sock to demonstrate the knot shrinking and then disappearing.

“It looks like an overhand knot with an extra couple of loops on it,” Alice commented.

That’s more or less what it is,” I agreed, but you don’t construct it that way. “I’ll show you how to tie it yourselves another time. Right now, I have to get you two trussed up.”

I formed another Tomfool knot and pulled the body of the knot much tighter this time. Liz pulled a pair of socks up over her arms and offered her sock-covered hands behind her back. I slid the loops of the knot over them then pulled the ends of the sock tight before double knotting them.

“That’s really tight, Mum,” Liz pointed out.

“It will ease off,” I replied. “As you struggle the knot will tighten and that will release a little more slack into the loops around your wrists. If I don’t make it tight to start with, you’ll escape easily.”

Liz looked doubtful, but I carried on regardless. “You need to be on your tummy down on the floor for the next bit.”

Liz positioned herself and I guided her legs into the position I needed, knees well apart and feet up in the air with ankles crossed. I picked out another pair of socks and used one to tie her ankles vertically and the other horizontally. The socks were long enough to go round her ankles twice.

Lastly, I used the partner of the sock I had used on Liz’s wrists to form the hogtie. I wrapped it once around her wrist binding and tied it with a simple overhand knot positioned away from her fingers. Next, I pushed her feet forwards so her heels were touching her bottom. That let me pull the ends of the hogtying sock to her ankle binding , one end going between her shins and below the knot, the other between her feet and above the knot. I double-knotted the ends together.

“Right, you’re tied up,” I told Liz.

Liz performed a few exploratory tugs at her bonds then tried to crane her neck around to see what I had done.

“You’ll be able to see what it looks like when I’ve done Alice,” I told her.

I had Alice get down onto the floor before I started tying her so that Liz would have a good view of the proceedings.

“So, what do you think?” I asked them.

“I feel really helpless with everything tied together like this,” Alice said.

“We might have been able to untie each other if it wasn’t for these socks over our hands,” Liz added.

“That’s why they’re there,” I told them. “Now when you’ve finished admiring my handiwork, I’ll blindfold and gag you.”

“Do we have to be blindfolded?” Liz asked plaintively.

“You asked for the Sock Incident and it’s part of the deal,” I replied.

There were no further objections, so I blindfolded each of them with a knee-length sock knotted fairly low at the backs of their heads. Their gags were the partners to those socks, each with a knot tied half way up it. I gagged Liz first, with a minor grumble of protest as I worked the knot into her mouth. I tied the ends of the gag above the blindfold knot so that it would hamper attempts to rub the blindfold off on the carpet. Alice accepted her gag without complaint.

“OK,” I said, standing up, “that’s you both done. I’ll look in from time to time but you’re on your own till teatime.”

As I promised, I looked in on the girls several times. The loose rug on their bedroom was more rumpled each time I visited, suggesting that some struggling had been going on. One time I checked on them, Liz had turned herself completely over onto her back with her arms underneath her, her heels against her bottom and her knees splayed awkwardly. When I eventually decided it was time to free them, Liz had turned herself the right way up again and they had managed to manoeuvre themselves so their head were almost touching, but they had made no progress at all towards escaping.

I removed the girls’ gags and blindfolds first then, as she had been tied up first, I set to work to free Liz first.

It took several hard swallows and some licking of lips for Liz to get her voice going again. “That was crazy. I didn’t believe you could immobilise us both just with a handful of socks.”

“We ought to be able to escape if we could just work out how,” Alice commented, now free and rubbing her wrists.

As I finished freeing Liz, she nodded her agreement. “If we could work out how to get our hands untied, it would be easy.”

“Isn’t that true however you’re tied up?” I asked, gathering up scattered socks.

“I suppose it is,” Alice said. “But we might be able to work out a way if we did it progressively. We could try just hands tied in front and nothing else then work our way up to the full works.”

“Not today,” Liz said firmly.

“So,” I asked, “are you both OK after that? Nothing hurting?”

“A bit stiff,” Alice admitted, “but nothing a shower wouldn’t fix.”

Liz nodded agreement.

I left them to sort themselves out and headed for the kitchen. Sure enough, I heard the shower running for a very long time.

[Canuck100]

[mention]Weird Aunt Ettie[/mention], this is such a great, fun, interesting and well-written story!

The style reminds me of some of the remarquable UK authors we had here in the past, like Gillian, Rebecca, Jon (MCA), Richard UK, to name a few. (If you click on the names, it will take you to the first of their respective stories in the archives).

To be able to write TUG stories with remarquable writing skills seems to be a by-product of the UK school system. I wish I had gone to school there to have the same talent.

I hope that other chapters are on the way! I am really looking forward to reading them.

[Weird Aunt Ettie]

The English school system (can't speak for other parts of the UK) used to place huge emphasis on clear and concise writing skills. (And the exam system tended to penalise people whose skills lay elsewhere.) I've just turned 70, so my school years were 1955-1968. I wonder what ages the writers you mention are? (I know that Gillian B died some years ago.)

Ettie

[Dpsiic]

I love your stories Ettie, Please keep them coming