08 - Ropes and Loincloths
Story index at the bottom
By Nathraq
Tuesday August 22nd 2000 11:49:32
Just some notes, then a story.....
I began only this month posting stories here, and one might get the idea that I spent my entire childhood playing tied- up games with other kids. (I got that idea reading Doug's copius and enjoyable stories...Doug, you lucky dog!) The fact is that I have some time off from work and can spend time remembering, checking, and composing the stories of my own memories. Most of the good ones will be posted this month, I think. How lucky we are to have such a fine and well organized method of sharing our pleasant memories, and I again thank Canuck for this.
The fact is, from ages 6 or 7 through 15, I probably only played an average of a few TUG's (TiedUpGames) per year. Oh, I would've played more often, but I think we all know the many obstacles: parents, chores, homework, fate, lack of suitable (private) facilities, weather...and of course, there isn't always a willing "tugger" around...especially a girl!
Now, there's nothing wrong with boys playing tiedup games with each other, but it seems reading stories about boy-->girl and girl-->boy, and even girl-->girl will be much more popular. But my most frequent and available Tug-buddies were boys.
I and my fellow tuggers, like most kids, spent the vast majority of our time doing normal kid stuff: watching TV, doing chores, going to school, doing homework, pursuing hobbies, and attending to family life.
Well, enough of that. Now, on to a story.....
Nathraq
Tuesday August 22nd 2000 12:34:38
Ropes and Loincloths
One afternoon in early fall, after I had just turned 12, my mother came into my room and told me I had a phone call, and to not stay on the phone too long (she always added that). Now, phone calls for me were about as rare as a solid gold lasso, so I ran downstairs. It was Bobby, a friend who lived about a block away.
"Hey, Nathraq, wanna come over Saturday and watch Tarzan movies with me? My Dad will be working on the house and we can have dinner afterwards."
"I'll ask," I told him, "and call you back."
Bobby and his TV Guide. Count on him to know when the good movies are on. (This was before the days of the VCR.)
There was the usual conversation with my mom: Yes I'll be sure all the chores are done. No, I won't need anything. Yes, Alvin can come along if he wants to. No, I don't have a whole lot of homework and if I do I'll do it on Friday like always. Yes, Bobby's mom will be home. Yes, I'll ask Dad. No, I don't want to do it here, we want to do it at Bobby's. My parents were very good parents, but they were still parents. Sheesh!
On Saturday, Bobby and I were in front of his TV in the family room, reasonably sure we could watch the afternoon movie without too many parental interruptions. In this particular movie, Tarzan's boy, "Boy", had been taken prisoner and tied up. We were laughing at the silly gag and generally critiquing the bindings (we both knew we could do better) and Bobby mentioned how it must feel to be tied up wearing only a loincloth. Now both of us had been tied up in swimming trunks, but this was different.
I was making fun of the loincloth anyway.
"Look," I said, "just lift up the flap in the front and you can see everything. And there's only a flap in back, too."
"You're dumb, Nathraq. It's a long piece of cloth, or animal skin or whatever, and it goes between the legs and under a rope and tucks over."
I hadn't really thought about that. Next commercial, he got a dustrag from somewhere and, using his belt, formed a loincloth right over his jeans. He put the belt on ("pretend this is a rope or a strip of leather or something") and tucked the cloth under it in front, folding a "flap" over the front, passed it between his legs, and tucked it under the belt in back, pulling it over and down to form a "flap" in the back. He was really getting interested in it. After a few tugs and pulls, come the next string of commercials, he got a pair of scissors and trimmed the length, cutting off the corners to give it a V- shape in front and back.
"Yea," I said, "but it will be open on the sides."
"It's supposed to be", he said. And, of course, watching Tarzan and Boy, we could see that the sides were open almost all the way to the waist.
In the next movie, Tarzan was tied up and we critiqued that, too, and laughed when a gagged girl was brought in with her hands tied loosely in front of her.
Bobby's dad came home from his "hobby house" later and we had supper, and I was home in time to get an hour of piano practice.
Bobby's dad was a well-paid professional, but had this "manual labor" hobby of his. He bought this old house not too far away, and, as a hobby, was fixing it up. He didn't care if he eventually made a lot of money, and he had done it before...it took the place of going fishing or to watch ball games on Saturdays, and he could do it in bad weather. He'd strip and plaster the walls, paint, change doors, put in new sinks, etc. It was a small house but he kept the electric & water going and just took his good old time. It might take him a year to put in a new window. The reason I liked it is because, occasionally, I could go over and make a few bucks helping him out with painting or grass cutting or other unskilled jobs. I was about to get a new reason.
Bobby told me at school the next week that his dad was going to be out of town Saturday and had just finished the walls in one of the rooms. Bobby and I were offered the job of painting one room, which would have been a laundry room I guess. Only one window, the door frame wasn't up yet...a perfectly easy job.
"We can work fast, and tie each other up when we're done."
"Cool," I said.
There was the usual longwinded conversation with my mother, who reminded me of piano lessons in the morning (no problem) and that she wanted me to sweep the steps leading up to the house at 3 or 4 o'clock. I swear, chores are something that a parent invents to interrupt a kid's activities. It took me 20 minutes to tell her that I could do it at 10am and have the entire afternoon free for my "job". Come Saturday, though, I took my piano lesson, came home and practiced while Alvin was having his lesson, and swept the steps while Alvin was practicing. A few unnecessary delays later, and I was on my bicycle peddling like mad, eager to make a few bucks to supplement my meager allowance.
Bobby's dad had everything laid out for us, and within an hour we had coated the plastered wall with two coats of some nasty blue. We cleaned up the mess and took turns taking a bath (we had paint all over us). Then we went to our bikes to get our "stuff". Bobby had saddlebags on his bike, and I had two coffee cans (one under the seat, and one on the frame) with plastic lids, both painted, which my dad had put on there to carry things. We brought in plenty of ropes and clothesline and Bobby revealed his surprise: Two loincloths.
I was hesitant to wear them...I mean, I thought it was a bit much to be tied up in the little bikini-type swim trunks we used sometimes. But Bobby wanted to do it with loincloths.
"Come on, it'll be like we're captured slaves, and given only rags to wear."
We flipped a coin and I lost, so I would be first. I went into an empty bedroom to change.
Part 2
When I came out of the bedroom, I almost called it quits and ran back to get dressed. I was wearing only my glasses. I couldn't get the loincloth to look right over my underwear (Bobby told me I couldn't) and I felt, well, naked. I had the cloth between my legs, and tucked under (or over, if you will) a piece of rawhide bootlace. The cloth was brown. The front and back barely touched on the sides and I was covered (barely) in front and back by a v- shaped cloth, but at least I was covered. If I pulled it tight it was quite comfortable, actually...just embarassingly small!
"Wow" Bobby said. "That looks COOL! Man, this is going to be so cool!"
Well, I felt pretty helpless already. Now, usually I was the "Game Master", coming up with the methods we would choose for seeing how the "tuggers" were tied, etc etc. Understand, too, that there was no "gay" attraction here...it was pure fantasy and adventure at that age. Well, given Bobby's enthusiasm, I said something like "You sound like Alvin" (I think it was Alvin, my younger brother by 3 years, who came up with the idea or rule that we had to have our shirts off when we were tied up...this had become tradition, at least for boys) and submitted to the game.
We decided that the "captor" would determine the way the captive was tied, so I made sure the curtains were drawn and placed myself at Bobby's mercy. First, of course, he crossed my wrists behind me and tied them, vertically and horizontally. No changing my mind now, I thought. Actually it felt sort of cool to be almost naked, a captive only allowed to wear rags. He took me into one of the two bedrooms where there was an old pipe, I think it had been a gas line, going from floor to ceiling, maybe six inches from one wall. He tied my ankles together and teased me a little bit, pushing me this way and that while I tried not to fall (it was a standard part of the play) and then pressed my back against the cold metal pipes.
Bobby then tied my bound wrists to the pipe, and wrapped a rope around my waist. He decided he didn't like that, and removed the waist rope, threading it behind me and wrapping it around my chest, just above the elbows, pinning my arms to my sides and my body to the pole. He then tied my ankles to the pole and, using the Nathraq Knee technique (as he called it), tied my legs to the pole just above the knees to prevent me from sitting or squatting, so I had to stand straight up. We had a rule against ropes tied around the neck or across the throat, but he took a thick rope and shoved it in my mouth like Boy had been gagged in the Tarzan movie. It was about as ineffective as you can get, but it added a nice element to the overall appearance of the scene, I think. He kept telling me how cool it looked (I'm glad it wasn't winter!) and after I was secured and helpless, he began the usual taunts. "Haha, you're all tied up. You can't get away. You're helpless. I have my clothes on but you're stripped! You are at my mercy, prisoner!" and so on. Then he threatened to pull off my loincloth and blindfold me with it, and call some girls to come in. This would've horrified me except I knew he was kidding. He did finally wrap a blindfold around my eyes, and he's prod me with his finger and tell me he was going to torture me until I would submit to slavery, etc etc. I'd pretend not to be able to talk, ahh-ing and uhh-ing around the thick piece of rope tied into my mouth. I struggled as much as I dared, not trusting yet, of course, the strength of the pipe to which I was tied, and after awhile I got my hands free and began to untie myself. Now it would be Bobby's turn. And we were running out of time.
Part 3
When Bobby came out of the bedroom in his loincloth, pulled a little lower on the hips than I had worn mine, I agreed that it looked "cool". Now I had a captive, stripped like a slave to only being allowed to wear a rag. He was feeling a bit embarrassed, too, but tried not to show it.
I got his hands tied behind his back, wrists crossed and looped in my usual fashion. I liked the crossed-wrists better than the palm-to-palm. But I had learned, in addition to running the ropes vertically & horizontally, to run a few loops around each wrist, to prevent them from being pulled through the crossed ties. Bobby and I were the same age (at this time he was still 11 and I had just turned 12) and about the same size, both slender. As I was tying his feet, he mentioned that, after this turn, there would be only time for one more tie. He suggested that, since I got loose, that if he didn't get loose I could tie him on the third turn, if he did get loose that we'd be even and would settle with a coin toss. I agreed. I tied his arms at the elbows, pulling them sort of behind him, not touching but he would have been unable to get the rope off his arms with his wrists tied. Also, I liked this because it left the chest bare...no rope across the chest. I tied his knees and noted that he was, indeed, as near to being naked as you can get without showing anything "nasty". (Butts in those days were taboo.) I bent his knees and tied his hands to his feet, looping the rope several times and tying it off behind his wrists where he couldn't possibly reach the knots with his fingers. We never used the term "hogtied" then.
He was now immobilized and I began the usual taunts as I rolled up a cloth and cleave-gagged him with it (we didn't know the term then). It made speech slurred but not impossible...we hadn't learned much about gags at that point. Finally I blindfolded him and stepped back to watch.
It was fun watching him struggle, rolling back & forth on his belly and reaching blindly with his helpless fingers for knots he'd never find. He yanked with his legs and even got onto his back once. In his muffled, garbled speech he told me how cool it felt to be completely helpless, and I of course was describing the scene to him: "You can't even straighten your legs, you can't stand up, you can't walk. And when we get ready to torture you, we're going to pull that rag off! And we'll bring in women to torture you! And we all have our clothes on, and you're almost naked!" and so forth and so on. Well, after the required time (I think it was 30 minutes) he still wasn't loose, and gave up. I teased him some more and let him loose so he could rub the red grooves on his wrists. (We had a few methods of calling attention away from them, as you'll find out in later stories...usually they disappeared within a short while, anyway.) Reminding me that I got the next tie, he remained in his slave rag loincloth while I gathered up a few things.
I had spotted some heavy eyebolts in the ceiling of one bedroom where, apparently, lamps or something had hung. I went in to check it and could not pull them from the ceiling. I went in to ask Bobby if he was ready and he said yes and turned around. "No, in front" I said. He was surprised...I never tied anyone's hands in front...not helpless enough and too easy to escape. But he complied and I tied his wrists together, palm-to-palm (best for an in-front tie, I thought) and cinched it tight. I blindfolded him and walked him into the bedroom.
"But I can reach up and pull off the blindfold," he said.
"Not unless you want a spear to stab you in the back," I replied.
Running a rope through his wrist bindings, I pulled the rope up (standing on an old broken chair we had used to reach the upper parts of the walls while painting) and threaded it twice through the eyebolt, and pulled it tight. I pulled the rope over to the other eyebolt and looped it twice through that one (halfway across the room) and knotted it. Bobby could get his heels on the ground, but that was it...he was stretched, arms overhead, and the ropes knotted where he could not possibly reach them. I removed his blindfold long enough to show him what I had done (so he would feel hopeless as well as helpless). I tied his ankles together and he suggested I wind rope all around him, but I told him it would be stupid. Wrapping a rope around someone doesn't do diddlysquat unless it pins his or her arms down...he just wanted the feeling, I guess. I put his blindfold back on. Well, we had agreed on no tickling for this occasion, but I did snug up his loincloth by tugging downward on the "flaps", exposing just a little more of his waist and belly and thinking how nice a girl would look like this (with some sort of top on, of course.) (For those of you who read my last story, it hadn't happened yet at this time...my experiences tying up girls were very limited at this point.)
After spinning around and me generally pretending to be "rough" with him, it was time to go and we both got dressed and left. The loincloth, however, soon became a "bargaining tool" in later, more complicated games ("If you let me have swimming trunks instead of a loincloth, I'll let you add one more level of tying, or a gag....") and I used it as a "torture wear" on subsequent games, though we usually wore pants or swimming trunks.
Nathraq
Nathraq2000@hotmail.com
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Nathraq's stories
- 01 - Ed's House (m/m, f/mm)
- 02 - Ed's House...later that week (mm/f)
- 03 - Earliest Memories (m/m, m/f)
- 04 - Surprise! (fff/m)
- 05 - TUG-buddy Bobby (m/mm, m/m)
- 06 - Look at What I Found! (FF/FF, MFF/FF) (in Adults archives)
- 07 - Recruiting Darlene & Brenda (m/f, f/m, ff/m)
- 08 - Ropes and Loincloths (m/m)
- 09 - Tug Party (m/f, fff/m, m/f)
- 10 - Tina the Hugger (f/m, m/f)
- 11 - Water Guns and Tickling (m/m)
- 12 - Summer Games (mf/mf, m/f, m/m, m/f)
- 13 - TUG with a Grup (m/m, M/mm)
- 14 - Eileen (m/f)
- 15 - Mindy's Story (mf/m)
- 16 - Chained! (m/m)
- 17 - Alvin gets captured (mf/m)
- 18 - Alvin's Revenge (m/fm)
- 19 - GRUPS (m/m)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section