01 - Momtie
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By Todd
Thu Jul 1 09:35:27 CDT 1999
I have never posted to this site before but I read Randy's story about tying up his mother. So I thought that I would share an innocent tie-up game I played with my mother when I was eleven years old.
After school, one afternoon, I went into the family room to watch some television, as I always did. However, this afternoon of after-school-TV would not be anything like the past. My mother, 32 at the time, was lying on the couch reading a magazine. Our couch was big, so even though she was halfway lying down, outstretched on the couch I still had room to sit. She saw me enter and as I sat down next to her she asked me how school went. "Fine," I said, as I picked up the remote control. We then started talking as I switched through the channels.
Before I go any further, I guess that I should share a bit of my background with you. By eleven years old, I knew that I was interested in tying people up. I don't know how it happened, it just happened. At eleven, I was somewhat experienced, I had tied my female cousins a few times during family reunions and such. It seems when I was with my cousins we always ended up playing some sort of tie-up game. The girls initiated most of the games. I consider myself very normal in every way except for the fact that light bondage, not S&M, has always interested and excited me. Not that being into bondage is abnormal, I just don't know a lot of people that share this same interest. Now, back to my story.
My mother started reading her magazine after our brief conversation and I continued to watch TV. I was sitting at my mother's feet, which were bare, and one of her toes accidentally brushed my thigh when she shifted her body. This is the point that I recognized her feet were so close to me. Up until now I was, in fact, just watching TV. However, after toe lightly brushed my thigh I noticed that her feet were right next to me, I couldn't get my mind off of them.
She had no idea, but as she read her magazine her face was hidden from mine and I started to steal glances at her feet, which were crossed and inches away from my left thigh. My mother is 5'2', 105 lbs., brown hair and eyes. At 32, she was in great shape and loved to lay out by our pool. And with summer approaching, she had already started tanning so her feet were very tan. My mother was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and her hair was in a ponytail. As I sat there, I started to examine her feet while my mother read her magazine. I noticed that her toes were perfectly shaped and painted with red toenail polish. (A sight that today gets my heart racing.) And her arches were very high. I could just barely see the wrinkled soles of her feet, but what I saw I definitely liked. I sat there wondering how I could have ever missed how beautiful her feet were. I guess I just never took the time to look, after all, it was my mother. That is when it happened. She shifted in her seat again and one of her feet accidentally hit my thigh, this time harder than the first. She looked at me over the top of the magazine and said, "Oops, I didn't mean to hit you." I said, "it's okay" I hesitated and then jokingly said just don't let it happen again." That is when it started. My mother said okay and about 15 seconds later, pointed her toes, scooted toward me and poked my ribs with her foot. And said, "Oops, did it again." Now, just to let you know, I'm sure that this is as far as she and I both thought this little game would go. Although it was fun in a weird sort of way, having my mom poke me in the ribs with her foot, I never thought of taking it any further. But it continued. My mom began poking my ribs with her foot about every 15 seconds or so, she would laugh, and then tell me she was sorry. Each time I would push her foot away. Then, when she poked me again, I couldn't understand it. I thought to myself, she couldn't continue this if her feet were tied down.
I then convinced myself that the only way to get her to stop was to threaten to tie her up. Then my heart started to beat faster and I began to feel uneasy and excited at the same time. The thought of tying up my mother really started to get to me. It seemed so wrong, but at the same time felt right.
Up until now, I had never even considered tying up my mother. It had never entered my mind before. And now, after poking me 5 or 6 times it seemed the only logical, as well as fun, way to get her to stop. Of course, I could have just asked her nicely, but I didn't really want her to stop. "Tying her up would be the only way," I finally convinced myself. My mind was racing. "Should I?" I thought to myself. This was my mother. Not my cousin or a friend. What would she think about me? Would she tell Dad? Then, without warning, my Mom did it again, this time hard. With both feet, she began to poke at me relentlessly. I grabbed both ankles and under my laughter told her to stop but I wasn't in a good position to hold her. She would get loose when I would grab her ankles. So, I sat up on my knees on the couch, facing her body, and grabbed her ankles again. I said, "Now I've gotcha." I was now in a better position and was able to pin her feet to the couch. I then straddled her ankles and grabbed her legs with both hands. She struggled to get free. By now she had put her magazine down and acted as if she was ready to wrestle me. Our position looked as though I was holding her feet so that she could do sit-ups. And as she tried to get up, I would gently push her back down. It was hard for her to get her balance. We continued this for about a minute or so.
I couldn't believe this was happening. Here I was, and eleven-year-old wrestling with my Mom, and it was the strangest feeling. I was excited and having a blast. Holding my mother's feet down while she struggled to get them free. I know, to this day, she has no idea that I was enjoying it like I was. We started to tire and I thought this would be the end of it. I said, "If you don't leave me alone I'll have to make you stop." Then she said those magic words, the words that seem a perfect prelude to any tie-up game, "If I don't, what are you going to do?" I responded without any hesitation, "I guess I'll have to tie you up to get you to quit." Then, I thought to myself, "oh crap, what have I done." But, to my amazement she lightheartedly said, "Well, if that's the case I better stop bothering you." I swallowed and said, "Good." Then, to my dismay, I thought that this was it. As I released her ankles and unstraddled her, I questioned myself, "why didn't I just go ahead and tie her up? What if she really does leave me alone? Have I missed my chance.?" We resumed our original positions on the couch. She placed her feet by me, picked up her magazine and began to read. So, I grabbed the remote control and began to watch TV. After about a minute or so, I had come to grips with the fact that my chance had passed. I thought, "boy had I screwed up, she probably thinks that I am some sort of freak for threatening to tie her up." I was still excited by the prospects of such a game, but I was sure that it wouldn't happen. Fifteen minutes had passed and with some quick peaks at her crossed ankles and feet and a little channel surfing, I began to settle down. I was frustrated at the situation and started to get up. Before leaving, I stole one last glance at her feet. To my amazement, she was watching me watch her feet. And as I looked up, I saw her staring over the top of the magazine at me. I was embarrassed and started to blush.
She asked, "Worried that I might get you again?" "Of course I am," I responded. Then she asked, "do you actually think you can tie me up to keep me from tickling you." When I heard my mom say the words, "tie me up," I felt weak all over. My heart began to race and I said to myself, "here's your chance." I responded to her remark by saying, with a somewhat quivering voice, "I'm sure I could keep you from tickling me." Under a mischievous smile she said, "Oh, I better be careful not to accidentally poke you with my feet then." I didn't say anything. She resumed her reading. My body was literally shaking because of my rapid heartbeat. My head was cluttered. I couldn't think. I new what was going to happen. I sat there, waiting. And after what seemed like a lifetime, but was only about 2 or 3 minutes, my mom did it again. With both feet, toes pointed like weapons ready to do battle, she scooted toward me and dug both of her feet deep into my left side and then one foot quickly found it's way under my arm. Although somewhat painful, I was exploding with excitement. She new what the consequences were and she initiated the game. All that I had to do now was basically hold up to my end of the bargain. (Poor me.) I didn't grab at her or try to make her stop, I wasn't going to miss my chance this time. But, I simply moved away and got up from the couch. I new exactly where I was headed. What mom didn't know however was that I knew exactly where there was plenty of rope, and this was a game I had played with my cousins many times. I hurried to the garage, opened a drawer where the rope was stored and grabbed everything that I could. On my way back to the family room, I was certain that my mom would be gone, even though I had made record time getting the rope. But, to my amazement she was still on the couch, she didn't move a muscle.
She had a worried look on her face when she saw all of the rope that I had. She said, "where did you get all of that rope?" "In the garage. Dad and I use it to tie things to the trailer and stuff like that." I know that she could see right through me. She knew that I had done this before, something that didn't really bother me at the moment. She asked, "you aren't going to tie me up with all of it, are you?" while staring at the rope. I said, "I might have to to keep you from getting loose." "Okay, but not too tight," she said with an instructing tone. "Okay, I'll need you to lay flat on your back." She positioned herself and said, "Like this?" "Yes, that's good," I responded. I took a short strand of rope and knelt beside her mid section, but then I stopped. I was still apprehensive about this strange situation. I was about to tie up my mother. I knew that I had plenty of time. My brother and sister were not at home and my dad would not be home until 6:00 and it was only 4:00 at the time. I had plenty of time, a mother who practically asked for it, and plenty of rope. So what was stopping me? My mother sensed my apprehension and said, almost comfortingly, "well, what are you waiting for?" I felt like Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) in the movie "Rocky II", just when Adrian tells him to "Win." I now had, permission from my mother, so to speak. Mom said, "Dad will be home in a couple of hours and I need to start dinner at around 5:30 so, I can't remain tied up for more that an hour and a half. I couldn't believe it. An hour and a half!? I was just so amazed at my luck. Taking full advantage of the time frame she had basically given me I said, "okay, we'll quit at 5:30 p.m." I now had one hour and thirty gracious minutes to tie up my mom.
I started at her hands, which were now by her side. I reached over her and grabbed her left wrist. I felt very consciences about the way that I looked and was acting. My palms were sweating and I was uneasy and still flustered at the situation, even a little embarrassed. However, the strong urge to tie her up overcame all of my inhibitions. As I grabbed her wrist I saw her close her eyes, perhaps to ease the tension and make me comfortable knowing that she wasn't watching my every move. I wrapped the small rope around her left wrist and then grabbed her right wrist. I then crossed them. I wrapped the rope as many times as I could and then tied a square knot. . (This is the only knot that I could tie at the time.) It was difficult tying her hands together because I was kneeling beside her. After wrapping her hands I grabbed a long strand of rope and wrapped it around the rope already securing her wrists. This time however, I pulled the rope trough her forearms cinching up the rope binding her hands making the rope very snug with every wrap. Once in while her eyes would open then close again. I guess she wanted to see my handiwork After I secured the long rope, I stood up and pulled her tied wrists over her head, so that her forearms were resting on the arm of the couch. I pulled her wrists toward the floor snuggly and secured the long end of the rope to the base of the couch. I then walked over beside her and looked at what I had accomplished so far. She opened her eyes and tugged at the rope gently but didn't look at me. Still uneasy, I didn't say anything. I bent down, grabbed another short strand of rope, and walked to her feet. I knelt down beside her feet and placed each foot closely beside the other. I then placed my hand under both ankles and lifted both feet up a bit. I ran the rope under her feet and started to wrap her feet tightly together.
I looked at her and could see her staring at me down her nose. She had to lift her head a bit to see what I was doing. I asked, "is it too tight?" "Oh no," she said. "Good," I thought to myself. I was wrapping the rope tight, I didn't want her to be able to get loose. After wrapping the rope I tied a knot. I then got a long piece of rope and then passed the rope between her legs perpendicular to the rope wrapped around her ankles. I did this several times cinching her ankles together making it very tight and impossible to escape. I ran the rope over the arm of the couch to the base, the same way that her arms were tied. However, her feet were about a foot and a half short of the arm of the couch. As I pulled to tighten the rope I could tell that I was pulling her feet higher and higher, suspending them about four inches above the cushion. I pulled the rope tied to her feet tightly, and it seemed as though she didn't mind, if she did, she never said anything. I got up and walked to the middle of the couch. She looked at me and said, "You've had practice at this haven't you?" I pretended not to hear. I didn't want to admit to my mother that I had tied people up before, even though by now she knew that I had. I jokingly said, "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." I ran as fast as I could up the stairs to my room and found my handkerchiefs. I had four of them, all of which I had used on my cousins before. I ran back down and calmly walked into the family room with the handkerchiefs behind my back. I told my mother to close her eyes. She agreed and I then folded one of the handkerchiefs lengthwise so that it was flat. I placed the handkerchief over her eyes, she tilted her head forward and I tied the ends together in the back. I examined her up and down and then looked at her mouth. I hesitated, but said to myself, "what the heck, you've come this far, go ahead."
So, using another handkerchief I rolled it up tightly and instructed my mother to open wide. When I said "open wide," she knew what I was going to do and said, "if you are going to gag me I can't speak so, if I snap my fingers that means you need to let me go." I said, "Oh, okay." Now I began to think that maybe she had done this before. I placed the balled up handkerchief in her mouth about halfway, silencing her. I then took another handkerchief, tied it around her mouth, then tied the ends together at the back of her neck. This secured the handkerchief that was partially stuffed in her mouth. As I cinched the ends together, she let out a very small "mmph," and I started to think that she wanted me to remove it. I asked, "is this okay?" She nodded yes. Good. Now she couldn't ask me anymore questions about my experience with bondage. After I finished gagging her, I checked the bonds at her wrists and at her feet, making sure that they were snug and that she would not be able to struggle free. I said, "Okay mom I'm done. I am going to leave you like this for 30 minutes." I heard a loud "mmmmppphhh." I then said, "If you can get free, I won't tie you up anymore." I saw her nod and then it started. I sat down at the small table in the room, and positioned my chair so I could watch, hoping that she wouldn't snap her fingers. First she began to lightly tug at her bonds. I think that she thought that it wouldn't take much to undo what her 11 year old son had done to her. But she was wrong. After lightly tugging at her wrists, I sensed that she knew this wasn't going to be easy. She then tugged at the rope suspending her feet, and then she knew that she was not going to make it out. All of the sudden, she really tugged hard and let out a loud and long, "mmmmmmmppppphhhhh!!!" Her feet were pointing, her hands were failing and she began to arch her back like she had been shocked. I got scared for a second. Was she okay?
After that one big tug, she settled down. Low moans came from under her gag. Her legs rubbed back and forth, feet still hanging. Her torso was moving up and down slowly. With each shake of her head from side to side she would let out, "mmmmpphhh, mmmmpphhh, mmmmpphhh!!!" I watched as she desperately tried to get her hands and feet free from the rope. As much as she tried she just couldn't manage. Her hands were really working on trying to get out. I got up and walked close to her to get a better view. I noticed that as she struggled to get her feet free her legs were rubbing together and her thighs were beginning to sweat. She would point her toes while she struggled. She would rest and go limp for 30 seconds or so, but then would try some more. I was actually proud of the job I had done. I walked around and around her watching her every move. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that my dad or siblings would come in and see me standing over my bound mother. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. But hey, she told me to, right? After about 20 minutes of watching her struggle, I felt that she had enough. She was really starting to sweat. I reached down and took off her blindfold. I think I startled her because she jumped. When I removed the blindfold, she started to squint, trying to adjust her eyes to the light. She looked fine. I then untied the handkerchief covering her mouth and removed the soaking wet gag. She started to move her jaw around, opening and closing it. I was speechless, I felt somewhat bad for what I had done. I thought that I might have hurt her. I think she sensed how I was feeling and said, "you sure did a good job tying me to this couch." My plan was to untie her and leave it at that, certain that this was enough for her. But I was wrong. She said, "well, I obviously can't get loose, so, what's in store for me now? This is fun." Did I hear her right?
Here my mom was, hands tied over her head, feet tied together and which were now very close to touching the cushion, sweating and obviously tired of struggling, but she didn't want to quit playing. I was thrilled. I stuttered and said, "w w w well, I'll think of something." She then said, "remember, you told me that I had to get loose. Tie me up somewhere else and maybe I'll have a chance." Yes, she definitely was enjoying this. Was this my day or what?
I'll write the conclusion to this story very soon. Sorry if I have taken up too much space. I have replayed this story in my mind several times, so it is very vivid, and I assure you, every word is true. I would also like to point out that my mother and I don't have a strange relationship. In fact, we have never discussed this incident with each other. It was just a fun afternoon for her, I assume, and me. Hey, I got to tie up my mom. Sometimes I wonder if she planned this. Something to think about.
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Todd's stories
- 01 - Momtie (m/F)
- 02 - Thirteenth Birthday Present (ff/m)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section