01 - Dick and Darla Dastardly
Story index at the bottom
By Mick
Friday August 4th 2000 03:00:06
This happened some time ago, but it still remains fresh in my memory. It takes place when I was but a wee lad of 10 or so. We lived in a nice neighborhood, but there were few children my age with which to interact. Although my family moved often, we had managed to stay in this particular house for over two years. During that time I became quite good friends with a girl next door who I will call Susan. Susan was a year or two older than me, but she fancied the chance to play with someone in the neighborhood so we became good friends. Over the years we invented many games, but it was the second summer that things began to become more interesting.
Susan's mom and dad were quite a bit younger than my parents. He had become financially successful in industrial sales and was often gone the better half of the week. Susan's mom, who I will call Beth, had become used to the loneliness by indulging in clothes shopping. I remember her closet, which we would sometimes hide in, was nearly as large as my bedroom. Beth's natural good looks and the fact that she would always dress in the latest styles made her quite the fancy of a certain preteen boy. I always thought she looked like a classic California girl, with long blonde hair and dark tan skin to match. At that time miniskirts and hot pants were the rage, so I got to see a lot more of her than you would see nowadays. I can't imagine ever having a job like Susan's dad that would take me away from a woman that looked like Beth. I digress.
In those days nearly every mother stayed home, so Susan's mom was constantly around during our games. My mother was also home, but Beth's freewheeling style made Susan's home the place of choice for our games. My mother had her hands full with my younger siblings and was quite content to let me disappear for hours at our neighbors. Those hours led to many an adventure.
On one particular day, Susan indicated that she was bored with our regular games and was interested in something new. I would have loved to suggest something involving rope, but my shyness over my newly discovered interest kept me from saying much. I now regret the number of opportunities lost over my inability to make strategic suggestions. Sometimes though, things just fall in your lap.
We made our way down to where Beth was working and Susan inquired about interesting things we could do to pass the time. Beth's suggestion, among many that were quickly rejected, was to pull down some of the old clothes boxes in a back closet. This did not initially sound interesting to me, but Susan's enthusiasm prompted me to follow. As we made our way upstairs to the back of the house, Beth asked that we excuse her as she had shopping to do. She left shortly thereafter leaving us to our own devices.
In the boxes we found numerous articles of clothing: some that were simply old; some that were more theatrical. As Susan dove into the frilly women's clothes, I mulled over the collection of sports regalia. Soon Susan was joining me, trying to figure out something interesting for me to wear. She finally found a top hat, a fake mustache and a black suit. As I tried them on, she remarked about the resemblance to our revered hero, Dick Dastardly. We found a cane to go with it and I looked into a mirror to discover a dopey kid in overgrown clothes. Susan, however, saw the makings of a villain. Completely clueless about the possibilities, I sat and watched her as she picked out some pink frilly clothes so she could be the damsel (I don't remember a name here, please forgive me.) Of course to a boy, the object of dressing up is to take the clothes off and play. Susan saw things differently. She insisted that we play a few rounds with our newfound characters. I reluctantly went along with the suggestion.
The games began with a round of hide and seek and a little chasing to ensue, but these games were short and not that fulfilling for either of us. Susan then suggested (I told you I was too shy to push things) that I capture her and take her prisoner similar to the cartoons. I agreed. After a thoroughly satisfying capture (dripping in sarcasm), Susan suggested that I imprison her in the bathroom. Obvious, this quickly become boring as I simply sat outside the door posting watch as she fiddled around inside. Things progressed as the next game Susan proposed that I actually tie her up following the capture. She would then try to escape as I went elsewhere in the house. This sounded interesting to me, but I was not going to push things. Susan scouted around and found several pieces of white rope in a utility room. Our game began and I quickly caught her. She positioned herself on a chair and I tied her hands together behind her back. She seemed to relish in the new opportunity to play up her character although it sounded a bit more like Scarlet O'Hare than a damsel in distress. Using more rope, I tied her feet together and wrapped another rope around her chest, pinning her elbows to her side. She seemed quite content in that I had not patronized her with easily escapable bonds and I left the room. Nevertheless, it took not more than five minutes and she was free, finding me downstairs getting something to drink. Her sudden appearance scared the dickens out of me.
I thought that another round would follow, but Susan seemed bent on the idea of being a villainess herself. This would just not do. I was the one dressed in black - I had to be the bad guy. Recognizing the problem, Susan struck upon an idea (and this is where it got interesting.) Her mom was likely to be back shortly. Susan was sure that she would join us in a round or two. Thus, Susan and I could both be villains. She and I made our way back to the closet and she put together a costume in black. We looked quite the pair. Our grand plan was to jump Beth as she walked into the house, “subduing” her and taking her prisoner. Our plan quickly went to shambles as we heard the door to the garage open - Beth had returned. Not quite able to cope with this alteration in plans, we did the next best thing and ran downstairs to confront her.
I believe now that Beth is responsible for my partiality towards miniskirts and boots. We rounded the corner to find her looking through her purchases. She was stunning, wrapped in this one-piece sky blue minidress-low cut and sleeveless. Her legs were encased in skintight white patent leather boots that reached up over her knees. The contrast with the tan skin made the effect even more breathtaking.
Of course, we were quite the sight ourselves. Beth had to stifle a laugh as these two "goons" dressed in black approached her.
"And who are you two supposed to be," she asked politely trying not to giggle.
"Dick and Darla Dastardly," Susan quickly retorted. I don't know where "Darla" came from, but her quick reply impressed me.
"And what can I do for you two villains," Beth continued.
I let Susan continue. "We intend to kidnap you."
Now most mothers would have suggested another game, or asked for a pause in the action as they settled in, but Beth was, as aforementioned, quite the freewheeler. In fact she immediately went into character.
"Now don't hurt me please. It's just little ol' me."
Susan didn't hesitate. Realizing that in our haste, we had left the rope upstairs, Susan quickly commanded me to get it. As I ran from the room, I could see Susan likewise directing her mom onto a chair. I returned with the rope, handing it to Susan. As if by telepathy, Beth put her hands behind her back, holding her wrists together so that they could be tied. Susan snugged the rope, surprising Beth with her thoroughness. Beth remained in character though, just protesting, as a damsel would no doubt do. Susan handed me a rope, instructing me to tie Beth's ankles as she began to wind the long rope around her mother's chest. As I prepared the rope, Beth broke character for just a minute to remind me that those were expensive boots, and she would appreciate me taking care not to damage them. I was happy to oblige her. I grabbed her ankles and slid them together. The patent leather was smooth and tight, and so thin that I could feel her legs inside the boots. I hesitated for minute to consider tying the rope around the ankles and wrapping it up and around her heels. The chunky heels of the day made for a great place to secure a rope, but I was afraid that more exposure to the rope might agitate the patent leather'and I definitely didn't want to be on Beth's bad side. I tightened the rope being careful not to let it rub. When I looked up I saw that Susan had finished tightening the rope around Beth's chest-just under her breasts but pinning her elbows to her sides-and was looking down at me.
"That took you long enough." Susan was not one to mince words.
I would have likely stammered out an idiotic answer if Beth hadn't interjected that I was being especially careful just like she had asked.
We still had a piece or two of rope and Susan began to evaluate the situation for more opportunities. Her suggestion that a rope be used to tie Beth's knees together was quickly shot down by Beth, but this time in character. At this point, I was sure that our job was done. I could see that Beth was struggling a little; perhaps surprised that Susan had been so thorough. She also seemed to grimace at times.
Beth slipped back out of character for second. "Susan, I know this game is fun for you, but my wrists are chaffing a bit from the rope. I'm not sure how long I can play this."
My hopes were dashed. I had anticipated more than this, but the gambit appeared to be up.
"Perhaps you can find something else to tie my hands. Meanwhile, can you untie me? I promise not to escape."
Susan, always the responsible child, quickly began to loosen the ropes around Beth's chest and wrists. I motioned as if I was going to untie her ankles, but Beth gave me a quick shake of the head. There was still hope.
After the ropes were loosened, Beth began to rub her wrists. They definitely showed signs of being intertwined with rope. As she massaged her wrists she also noticed rope marks on her upper arms, where the chest rope had been knotted. (I've noticed these same marks after I tie up my wife-and we use the same remedy, as you will soon see.) Not giving up, Susan began to suggest various instruments that could be used to tie someone, i.e. ties, belts, etc. All were discarded for various reasons. Beth suggested that we wrap something around her wrists before applying the rope, like a sock. Susan ran for a sock out of her drawer and tried to use it to protect her mother's wrists. However, the attempt to hold it in place while tying her wrists proved to be too cumbersome. I was again losing hope. (Keep in mind that this all happened within a minute or so.)
The answer turned out to be simple, but ingenious. Unfortunately many of you may not believe me because it also sounds too contrived - but stranger things have happened. I would have never come up with the idea myself but Beth thought of it quickly: gloves. Susan ran to her mom's bedroom and fetched a pair of white wrist length gloves that Beth quickly donned. The ropes held tight and the wrists were protected. Of course, this meant no chest rope. As Beth saw the dismay on her daughter's face (and surprisingly I saw it to; I guess Susan was used to getting what she wanted), she must not have been able to keep herself from helping.
"Untie me and we'll find a better solution."
"Like what," Susan asked somewhat dejected but showing signs of hope.
"Did you see any gloves in the boxes you opened," Beth quizzed.
"No."
"Untie me and I'll help you find some," she continued.
Susan and I quickly finished unbinding her mom, ankles and all. We followed her into the back bedroom upstairs where we had left our mess. After a quick search, Beth opened a box yet untouched and pulled out a pair of long white gloves.
"I wore these at my high school prom back before you were born. They were a present from your grandmother," Beth revealed as she slid them onto her arms. "Feel them, they are made of kid."
We both touched the gloves. Kid was new to me at the time. I had no idea that this was leather. For the longest time I was sure that "kid" meant some type of new material that impervious to wear and tear from children. You live and learn.
"Why were you throwing them away," Susan inquired as I pondered the same question myself.
"I'm not throwing them away, we only put clothes that we don't plan to wear for a while in this closet. These aren't in style anymore."
The subject seemed closed as we walked back to the kitchen. Beth smoothed the gloves on her arms and reminisced I think. She seemed somewhere else for a moment or two. I was enamored with the view before me. If I hadn't been there I would never have believed it: the sky blue minidress, those beautiful tan legs tucked into the tight white boots, and the soft shiny gloves that seemed to cover Beth's arms from fingertip to shoulder. Her beautiful tan set off the vivid colors that she adorned. That is a picture that I will never get out of my mind. I wished for a camera to savor the moment, but never would I have dreamed of asking for the picture. Voyeurism remains the everlasting destination for the shy.
We arrived back in the kitchen and the adventure began anew. Rope was applied and not a complaint was uttered. As we stood back to view our prisoner, Beth nodded in appreciation for our consideration for her comfort. She struggled a bit, but quickly convinced herself of her helplessness.
"So now, what is the game," Beth asked forgetting to go back into character. I think the length of time for problem resolution had dulled all our minds of the original intent.
Susan thought for a second and, off the cuff, said, "You try to get free and we will hide." This made no sense to me, but I was along for the ride at this point.
"And if I get free, what am I to do," Beth inquired further.
"Find us," was the quick but seemingly meaningless reply.
"And can I use any method to get free," Beth continued.
Susan looked at me as if I had an answer to that question. Suddenly on the spot, I blurted "sure."
My eardrums exploded. Beth let out a sudden - desperate - yell for help and then just as abruptly she stopped and smiled.
I looked at Susan. She was as shell-shocked as I was. I had no idea that Beth had suddenly decided to help us incompetent kidnappers. I wanted to run for cover before the police arrived.
"Did you forget something," Beth smiled, nearly laughing from our apparent dazed look. There was a twinkle in her eye. I had a feeling then that she knew something that we didn't. For all her helpless predicament, Beth seemed to be in control of the situation. This is disconcerting for the amateur kidnapper.
"Are you going to keep me quiet," Beth repeated trying to break our sudden lapse of thought. "Real kidnappers keep their prisoners quiet."
"I know you both would be quiet if I were to kidnap you." It was only later that I realized the hint she was dropping. I think they refer to it in literature as foreshadowing. Of course, I wasn't reading a book at the time so it went past me.
"Go get some handkerchiefs from your father's dresser drawer. Top one on the left I believe." Susan ran to fetch.
In Susan's absence, Beth continued. "You can blindfold me too if you like, but I've already know who my captors are." She winked.
Susan returned with a handful of white handkerchiefs.
"Do you want help," Beth asked. Susan nodded. We both felt that we were already within her powers.
Looking at me, Beth continued. "Fold a handkerchief long ways so that it is about the width of my chin to my nose."
Silly me, I actually put my hand up to her face to make an actual measurement. She snapped at me playfully as if she was going to bite me. I jumped.
"Susan, you can put a wadded handkerchief in my mouth, but please don't push it in too far. Then tie the other handkerchief over my mouth. And please do it over my hair. I don't want my hair tangled in a knot."
Susan complied, using the white handkerchief that I had folded. She snugged the cloth tightly into a knot behind Beth's head. I remember there being plenty of cloth left after the knot and it hung down behind her head. The handkerchiefs must have been big, not like those you find nowadays.
Beth looked at us and gave out a "mmpph". I remember liking the sound. She looked so helpless. The contrast comes back into my mind-the dark tan of her face against the blazing white of the gag and the whites of her eyes; her long blonde hair pulled tightly to her neck where the handkerchief was knotted; the smooth whiteness of her gloves and the white rope that held her hands together; and the shiny tight whiteness of her boots.
I was so enamored that I forgot my shyness for a second and blurted, "we ought to get a picture of this." I guess figuring that the blackmail material might be useful someday, Susan ran and got a pocket instamatic from her room. I don't think this was within Beth's realm of acceptance as she struggled and "mmpph"ed a bit before the pictures were taken. Susan took two shots, but I never saw them developed. I asked her for them once, but she said something about her mom having the film. I'd love to see them now.
I took one last glance at Beth as we headed for our hiding spots. Susan turned only once to say that we'd return in thirty minutes to release her. Foolish bravado.
Susan ushered me into the room with the clothes spilled unto the floor. There was a small television on a dresser and we began to watch cartoons. I asked why we weren't hiding. Susan scoffed at the suggestion that her mom would get free.
Time passed. Five minutes. Ten minutes. I inquired about the need to check our prisoner. Susan balked. "If you want to go check her then do it yourself."
I waited. We decided to change back into our regular clothes. The initial excitement of the game was being dampened by time.
Another ten minutes. Only ten minutes to go. I asked again if someone should check on her mom. Again Susan suggested I go. I didn't want to be gutless, so I went.
As I walked quietly down the hall, I listened for movement downstairs that might suggest Beth's current status.
Nothing.
I crept down the stairs. Not a sound. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I had no idea what to expect.
Nothing.
You read correctly. The chair had been neatly pushed back to the table and the rope and handkerchiefs were missing. It was as if nothing has occurred.
My curiosity was peaked. Although my sense of danger was incredible, I had to know what was going on. I was sure that Beth would be changing in her room and the game was over, but I had to know. As quiet as a cat, I made my way stealthily over to Susan's parents' room. No lights were on, but the room was not dark, just very quiet. I turned to look for their bathroom-the entrance was across the room. As I entered Beth's room, I felt a movement of air. The door swung shut behind me. Before I could turn, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth while another pinned one arm behind my back. I knew there was no intent to hurt me, but the movement was swift and decisive. I was pretty helpless against a woman more than thrice my age.
"It's your turn Mr. Dastardly," Beth giggled.
Her sense of humor put me at ease. This was definitely still play.
"I am going to release you, but you have to cooperate."
I nodded, not being able to mutter a word at the moment.
Beth released me and led me over to the bed. "Sit down here," she pointed. I followed her directions.
Beth handed me one of her husband's long sleeve shirts to put on. The shirt was much too large and the sleeves covered my wrists. She had thought of everything. As she wound rope around my wrists she asked several times whether or not I was okay. I had no complaints. Finishing my hands she wound a rope around my torso, pinning my elbows to my side. Another rope was used to tie my ankles together. She stepped back. She was still wearing the same clothes as before. I was amazed that she could be so quick and quiet in those heels.
"I am going to put a handkerchief in your mouth," she warned. "Keep it in the front of your mouth. I don't want you to swallow it." Beth smiled.
A wadded handkerchief was pushed into my mouth and another knotted tightly over it. Beth smiled as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.
"Just tell them that the blue Avenger was here," Beth giggled as she pulled up her gloves. She reached down to collect the rest of the rope and handkerchiefs to take with her. As Beth left the room, I knew that she definitely still had some childishness in her.
I could hear her walk through the kitchen, obvious uncaring about whether or not Susan knew she was coming. I could make out the groan of the staircase as she made her way upstairs. Susan didn't have a chance.
"Susan," she called.
I heard some running upstairs and then everything was quiet.
It was a matter of a few minutes when I heard footsteps coming my way. Marching Susan in front of her, Beth led her to the bed next to me and fastened her ankles with rope. I glanced at Susan. She was as helpless as me, tied in basically the same manner.
"I guess the blue Avenger got the better of both of you," she snickered. "I'll be waiting for you in the den," Beth added as she took off her gloves and threw them on the dresser. We both quietly watched her leave.
About ten minutes passed before she returned.
"I just couldn't leave you two like this any longer," probably contemplating what she had done to a neighbor's child. I wasn't complaining, but then again neither Susan nor I were saying much of anything at all. We had made no headway towards freeing ourselves. I think Susan was more relieved to be free than I. She never liked being the prisoner and would only do it grudgingly.
"Just remember, turnaround is fair play," Beth reminded us as she walked out of the room.
A vivid memory. I wish there were more, which is not to say that there was only once.
Childhood play becomes adult obsessions. But then again, that is why we are all here, isn't it?
Mick
fred_fred_2@hotmail.com
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Mick''s stories
- 01 - Dick and Darla Dastardly (m/f, mf/F, F/mf)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section