The video game on our living room TV had my complete attention. It was another close round, my team had come from behind after a particularly weak start. Maybe, just maybe, we could finally win.
I was so focused on the screen that I didn't hear him sneak up behind me.
In the last 10 seconds of the match, I made a risky play, and immediately died. Shit. I wouldn't respawn before the round was over. It was up to my teammates. I stared at the screen, watching the camera jump between the other players.
Without warning, there was a wet rag over my face.
When I came too, I had been stripped down to my boxers and hogtied on the couch.
My wrists were tied together in a tight double column. Another loop of ropes pulled my upper arms towards each other behind my back. My bound wrists and arms were tied to a rope above them that tethered my bound ankles to the back of a head harness - a head harness that forced a rubber ball into my mouth. The ropes pulling my arms were tight and uncomfortable. The rope that tied my ankles to my head forced me into a painful bend.
Image found on socknties Tumblr, but was originally from eckie.com
Sitting on the couch beside me, was my captor. He held a controller in his hand, playing video games as I squirmed around. I first tried to wiggle my hands free, only to find the ropes too tight. Desperate, I thrashed around and tried to brute force my way out of my bonds, but the tight hogtie made this painful and futile.
Giving up on breaking free, I instead tried to plead with my captor. But my pitiful cries were muffled by the gag, and a painful pull of my hair, followed by a painful slap on my ass, showed that my captor hand no plan to free me yet.
I laid there while my kidnapper played a full round of the video game. My arms, core, and neck were already sore. He started another match. I was going to be here a while.
I managed to roll onto my side. It took some of the pressure off my chest and made it easier to breathe - though the the pressure on my arms remained. It was only a slightly more comfortable position for now, and I dreaded how long I might have to stay in it.
My captor won his next match. As the next game was queuing up, he slid his hand under my boxers briefs. He play with my dick, gently stroking it while he waited for his next match to load. I moaned into the gag, as he brought me close, only for him to pull away as his game started up.
I watched intently during the next match, eager for him to finish and jack me off again.
But this time he lost, and rather than play with me, he decided to hurt me. With one hand he grabbed my hair, pulling it painfully and forcing my back to arch even more. With his other hand he slapped my ass. Over and over. Getting harder each time. I yelled into the gag, begging him to stop. He ignored me and kept hitting, only letting up when the next match began.
That was how I spent the better part of my evening. My kidnapper would play a match, if he won he'd tease me, edge me, and gently caress my body. If he lost, he'd slap my ass, pull my hair, twist my nipples, and tickle me until I was on the verge of tears. I became incredibly invested in his game, because it was tied to my fate.
Weirdly though, the moments he lost weren't the worst part. It was the time he was playing, the time I was forced to wait there, forced into an uncomfortable and vulnerable position, waiting to see whether the minute of interaction I'd get would be heavenly or hellish.
Our Arrangement
Tim and I have an arrangement. A fun consensual agreement that is the reason I ended up hogtied on the couch that day.
Whenever I am wearing a red bracelet, Tim can “chloroform me”.
Now, as hot as it would be to be actually knocked out, there is no safe way to do that. So instead we have to do a little roleplay.
If at any point, Tim puts a wet cloth in front of my face, I immediately close my eyes and go limp. Tim has free reign to move me, strip me, and restrain me how he pleases. If he leads me somewhere or asks me do get into a certain position I obey. I do not speak during this “knocked out” time, and he makes sure to save any torture or sex for after I've been “woken up”. Once I'm tied up to his pleasing, Tim snaps his fingers and I pretend to wake up. From there, the acting ends and I go back to responding naturally to whatever he does to me.
This has been great for a number of reasons.
Getting someone restrained is difficult and sometimes takes a few minutes. The last thing we want to do is kill the momentum/tone of a scene to get me trussed up.
Things happen organically and spontaneously. It's up to him when I get “chloroformed” which keeps me on my toes. Technically he can only chloroform me when I'm wearing a red bracelet, but at this point I pretty much wear it every day, so the only real decider of when I get tied is Tim.
Routine is powerful, and I've begun to associate the wet rag with a state of mindless submission. I've been surprised to find just how much hearing him snap his fingers does seem to snap me into the reality that I'm his helpless, even if a few minutes earlier I let him tie me down.
This kidnapping system we've created has led to a number of fun scenes...
