charlie : First Rope Games (M/F F/M)

[Soraka]

by charlie » Thu Oct 06, 2016 8:00 pm

Hi, I'd rather not share all my secrets with the whole world, so I'll call myself "Julia". I've had a fascination with tied up people for as long as I can remember. Before I even started school, I would watch Rocky and Bullwinkle on our old TV, and I got very interested every time Nell Fenwick got tied up by Snidely Whiplash. I thought to myself, "What would it feel like to be tied up? Would I be able to get out by myself without help? What if I was stuck? How would I feel?" But I never talked about this with anybody.

Now I should introduce my main partner in these games. This was my brother "Michael". Michael is only eleven months older than me. We're both first generation Americans; my parents came over from Europe about three years before Michael was born. I'd rather not say exactly where they came from, but let's just say it wasn't a particularly privileged place. The four of us were a very close, warm, loving family. This was a good thing, since we lived in a tiny little one bedroom apartment above my mom's workshop. There was a small kitchen, a small bathroom, a medium sized living/dining area, and a small bedroom. My parents had a double bed in the bedroom. We didn't get a lot of privacy since the only rooms with doors were my parents' bedroom and the bathroom.

My dad had strung a rope across one corner of the living area with just enough room for a twin bed and a clothes chest. My mother hung big cloth sheets from the rope to make a curtain. The place behind the curtain was the "bedroom" for us kids. When we were preschoolers Michael and I slept together in a twin bed. It was a little crowded, but we both really liked to cuddle up to sleep, and we were (and still are, many years later) each other's best friends in the whole world. When the twin bed got way too small for us, my parents replaced it with a bunk bed. Michael got the top and I got the bottom. That was roomier, but I felt lonely for a while. When I got too lonely I'd climb up the ladder and cuddle up with Michael. He was pretty good about putting up with me (he's kind of a cuddly guy too).

Speaking of rope, I saw a lot of it as a kid. Dad had joined in business with his cousin who had come to the USA earlier. Dad was an expert at safely rigging heavy loads onto trucks and cranes and large equipment. When I'd see where he worked, there were always ropes of all sizes and steel cables and strong wide straps. Mom brought in extra income doing what I'd call "industrial strength sewing". She could sew just about anything, but the income came from repairing and customizing heavy fabric things like big tents and safety harnesses, along with the rigging straps that my father used. So I got to see lots and lots of ropes and straps, and I often wondered silently to myself what it would feel like to be tied up with some particular piece of rope.

Mom's workshop was below our apartment. So that Mom could work and still keep an eye on us as preschoolers, Mom and Dad sectioned it off. It was really just a big open work area with a concrete floor, but Dad made a reasonable play area of part of it. He got some old judo mats for almost nothing from a nearby gym and cleaned them up and put them on the floor so us kids wouldn't be right on the cold, hard concrete floor. They arranged some low storage shelves to fence the play area off well away from the big, noisy, dangerous sewing machines. Dad cut the really beat up mats into pieces and padded all the hard corners. So it wasn't pretty or elegant, but it was a safe enough play space, and Mom could see what we were doing. One of the shelves was turned around so we could get at the contents, and that was stocked with picture books and toys and coloring books and fun stuff for us. There was also an old black and white portable TV, which we probably spent too much time watching.

Mom also stored some of her softer, safer stuff where we could get at it. The needles and pins and heavy duty tools were all barricaded off by the sewing machines, but we could get at the shelves with lots of colorful thread and strings and cords and all different kinds of cloth, but mostly heavy canvas. There was also every imaginable kind of webbing and rope; lots and lots of rope. Mom didn't mind us playing with the ropes as long as we didn't make too much of a mess. As preschoolers, we played around with tying knots and jumping rope and such, but we never actually tied each other up. (Sorry to disappoint you, but just be patient; we'll get there!)

Even though I guess we didn't have all that much money, I never felt poor and I certainly felt loved. We always had enough good food. My parents scrounged up lots of used children's books and both Mom and Dad read to Michael and me every night. Their English wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. My parents were both physically affectionate to each other and to us kids. I got lots and lots of hugs and kisses and I loved every bit of it.

Our birthdays fell just right so that Michael and I started into kindergarten the same year, despite our eleven month age difference. I think he was the oldest kid in our class and I was the youngest. We both loved school. We were fast learners, and by the end of first grade we were both very good readers. Mom would take us to the library and we could check out books. Once she was satisfied that we knew how to behave in a library, she would let us go around the children's section on our own and make our own choices. Michael found some creepy book of ghost stories that gave him nightmares for a while.

My first library surprise was a book on Harry Houdini. It told about his escape acts, and it had some old pictures of him. He was handcuffed, he was chained up, he was in a straitjacket, and he was locked into huge metal can. Best of all, I found pictures of him tied up with ropes. I read the whole book the same day I got it from the library. That night lying in bed I thought about what it would be like to be an escape artist and get tied up again and again. Just before dinner the next day, on some TV show they were asking kids what they wanted to be when they grew up. At the dinner table, Mom asked Michael and I the same question. Michael said he wanted to be a policeman (this was a frequent answer for him at that age). Mom asked him why and he thought it would be cool to wear a uniform and have a badge and a gun and handcuffs and be able to arrest people. I was mostly interested in the part about the handcuffs. Then Mom asked me, and I said I wanted to be an escape artist just like Houdini. She asked me why, and I said it would be fun to be tied up and escape and do it all as part of a big show with lots of people watching (in addition to the "tie up" part, I guess I had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in me too).

So my first chance to act on this came on a Saturday around the end of my first grade year. Michael and I were good kids, but he was only seven and I was six, so Mom wouldn't leave us in the apartment alone for more than about ten minutes or so. She had a big job to finish up in her workshop, so we brought our library books downstairs to read in the play area of her workshop while she sewed. I read my Houdini book again (probably for about the fourth time by now). Michael quit with the ghost stories and he was reading a kid level explanation of how television worked.

I was getting bored with just reading and not doing. I asked Michael if he thought I could be an escape artist. He kind of shrugged. He had other interests. Mom had her noisy machine turned off, and she was doing some hand work. So I asked her too. "Mom, do you think I could be an escape artist like Houdini?" Mom was a believer in encouragement. "I think you could be anything you wanted to if you worked hard in school and learned a lot and put you mind into whatever you wanted to do. Remember that everything big takes lots of practice and commitment."

I don't think she really expected this to go anyplace, but I said that I wanted to start practicing to be an escape artist right now. I said I wanted Michael to tie me up right now and I'd try to escape. Mom was pretty unflappable, and her response was underwhelming. She just kind of shrugged and said OK. So I went over and got a basket on the storage shelves that was full of pieces of old, rough, dirty nasty rope. Mom saw that and came over. She took the basket from me and put it back. She said that rope was greasy and dirty, and also it was so rough it might cut my skin. I was very disappointed.

My disappointment did not last. Mom went to a high shelf and took down a bag. She pulled out a neatly coiled white rope. It was the most beautiful piece of rope I had seen. She said it was nylon. She said it was more expensive that the other rope but it was clean and soft and smooth so it wouldn't cut me up. She said as long as we didn't cut it we could play with it. She also laid down a few safety rules. No ropes around the neck ever. Nothing tight enough to cut off circulation. No tying up anyone who didn't want to play. No leaving a tied up person alone. She said we would be allowed to play "escape artist" with her nylon rope as long as we followed her rules and only did it when she was around and in sight of us.

That deal was good enough for me. I beamed with excitement. I started to uncoil the nylon rope. "Come on Michael, I'm an escape artist and you are my show helper. Get me all tied up so I can escape!" Michael wasn't sure about this. "You want to be a policeman, right? Let's pretend that I'm a dangerous criminal and you already used your handcuffs on somebody else so you have to tie me up with rope instead." Michael was evasive, "But you don't look like a dangerous criminal". I practically begged him, "Please Michael, I really want to try it." Michael looked at Mom, "Is it OK?" Mom said that as long as I wanted to be tied up and as long as we followed her safety rules, it was OK.

Michael really didn't have the slightest idea of how to tie somebody up (and neither did I). He had me stand still with my arms pressed to my sides, and he just kind up made big spirals of rope around my body from my ankles up to my shoulders and back down again. He went enough times to use up all the rope, which wasn't that easy since it was a long rope and things kept tangling up. He spent as much time untangling rope as he did putting it around me. When he had used up all the rope, he rearranged it a little to bring the ends to where he could tie them together.

Time for my escape. The ropes held me tightly for at least ten seconds. Then I found that just by wriggling and squirming, I could easily get some slack. Once I had some slack I was able to work the ropes around my middle to down past my wrists and hands, which gave me more slack. Pretty soon I had all the rope pulled down below my waist. The I just pushed the rest of the rope down to my ankles and I stepped out. I held up the pile of rope and bowed proudly. Mom looked over from her work table and gave a little smile.

I asked Michael to tie me up again, but tighter this time. "Remember, I'm a dangerous criminal. To be a good policeman you have to tie me up tight so I can't get loose." I think Michael was starting to enjoy my new game. He didn't hesitate this time. He had me stand the same way with my arms against my sides. But this time he didn't just wind the rope. He first wrapped a couple of turns around my ankles and then he knotted it. Then he started up my legs and knotted again at my knees. Another knot on the coil at my upper thighs, and one at my waist. Finally, a couple of coils around my chest, one last knot, and the rope was all used up.

This was more of a challenge. I was able to get a little bit of slack, but not as easily as my first time. But then I got an idea. I worked as much of the slack as I could toward the rope around my waist, the one that kept my wrists pinned to my sides. With just a little more slack, I was able to slip one of my wrists out. That made so much slack the other one came out easily. Now I had enough use of my hands to start working the ropes down from my chest I had to get each loop over my wrists, but by now there was so much slack it wasn't difficult. At this point, I could reach everything and I just loosened things enough to pull the ropes down and step out again.

Again I held up the pile of ropes and took a bow for Michael and Mom. "Score: criminal two, policeman zero," I announced. I hoped we could play again, but Mom said she was at a good stopping point and we had to go upstairs for lunch. I asked if we could bring the rope upstairs, but Mom said no. She said it would be good to have something to keep us occupied when Michael and I had to spend time in her workshop.

From that day on I just loved the time Michael and I had to be with Mom in her workshop. It was a big win for everybody. With our rope and our escape artist game, we weren't bored so we didn't distract Mom or get into trouble. I guess this went on for a month or so, and Michael got better at tying me up. It was taking me longer, but I always got out. Like I said, neither of us really had any idea of how to tie someone up securely. Also, Michael's knot work wasn't the best.

Michael let me try tying him up a couple of times. I didn't push that too hard. I remembered Mom's rule about no tying up somebody who doesn't want to play, although Michael was (mostly) a willing enough victim. And I didn't do all that much better than Michael with the tying up part. I think I made better knots, but Michael had a different escape style. He'd just drop to the mats on the floor and kick and thrash and struggle like he was having a tantrum. The first time he did it Mom looked over worried like he was hurt or panicking, but she watched and when he laughed she knew he was OK. Michael's thrashing and struggling always made a huge amount of slack in lots of places, and once he did that he never had much trouble getting the ropes off.

But I was the one who really wanted to be tied up, and Michael was fine with playing our game that way. He asked me to try his way of escape where I just kicked and thrashed and struggled. I tried it, and it worked; I easily got out again.

Our tie up games that year never progressed past this point. We'd start with lots of rope, poorly placed and tied. The victim would then either just thrash and struggle or else carefully manipulate the ropes to gain slack. The inevitable end to each round was the successful escape of the prisoner.

I hope you liked my first story! If you did, I have lots more I can tell about. You've suffered through the story of my early life now, so if I do a second one I can skip all that and jump right into the next tie up games we played. We were a little older, and our games were a lot stricter and more secure than this first round.

[Soraka]

I hope you enjoyed the first part of my story. This segment is already long, and I don't want to repeat myself, so you'll have to look at part one for the background on me and my very sweet brother and tie up partner Michael.

I think it was when we were in second grade that we started to make our play a little stricter and more naughty. My parents were (and are) great parents who worked really hard to build a better life for our family, but one of the consequences was that Michael and I watched a lot of TV while they were busy. It was mostly police and crime shows, partly because Michael still had a significant interest in a career in law enforcement, and mostly because it was the best opportunity I could find to see people all tied up and helpless.

In some of the shows, the victim wasn't only tied up, but gagged and blindfolded too. We didn't play with gags until we were a little older, so I'll wait until a later story to revisit that topic. However, we definitely played with blindfolds. Our usual scheme was that one of us would tie a cloth around the other's head to cover their eyes. We certainly had access to plenty of cloth, thanks to Mom's sewing business. But we weren't very good at using it. Our blindfolds sort of worked, but they weren't completely effective. Lots of light got through, and the victim could usually sort of get a shadow view of the world. We also found that it was pretty easy to peek down along the nose. Finally, they didn't stay on very well. Knots would come loose, or a light rub of the face on the couch would make it slip out of place. Simple cloth strips just didn't make secure and effective blindfolds.

The big breakthrough came early that school year. Our whole family was watching a TV show together (not one of our crime shows). We saw one of the starring characters get into bed, and she put this mask over her face that covered her eyes and then she felt around to the light by her bed and turned it off. I hadn't seen anything like this before, and I asked my Mom what the woman was putting on her face. Mom said that it was called a sleep mask, and some people wore them to sleep in. She said that it blocked out all light, since some people slept better when it was totally dark, especially if they lived in a place with a lot of distractions and a lot of lights like a big city. Of course we lived in a big city, so the opportunity was obvious.

I told Mom that the bright lights of the city made it hard for me to sleep, and I asked her if I could have a sleep mask like the woman in the show. Mom said that when she had more time she could sew one for me. I was so excited I hugged her and kissed her. She liked to make me happy, so this made her happy too. She told me she would just make me a smaller one, so I'd be able to see a little bit around the edges. She said some people got really scared if it got completely dark. I told her I wasn't afraid of the dark or anything else (which was very close to true). I said that I really wanted to sleep better, and I asked her to make me a sleep mask that completely blocked out every last little bit of light so that the city lights wouldn't bother me at night any more. Mom chuckled and said yes, there wasn't much that I was afraid of, and she would do her best to make me one the way I wanted it.

My birthday was only about three weeks away when I asked, so I had a hunch what might happen. I was right. My birthday came, and after dinner we had cake and my family sang to me, both the English "Happy Birthday" and also a traditional birthday song from "the old country" in our original native language. Then my mom gave me a small pretty cloth bag that was tied shut with a ribbon. I opened it up, and pulled out the contents. It was an absolutely beautiful sleep mask. The main cloth was all black. I loved animals, so Mom had embroidered little animal figures on the outside, in shiny colorful thread that stood out against the black cloth. I think there was a bunny and an elephant and a moose and a giraffe. Mom said that way I could have nice dreams about animals.

Mom had also honored my wish about a super effective sleep mask that would put me into complete and total darkness. The inside of the mask was the softest, smoothest satin cloth I had ever seen. There was a wide black elastic strap on the back to keep it on and press it tight over my eyes. There was a ring of black fake fur around the outer edges of the inside so no light would sneak in. Finally, I'm not sure quite how to describe it but there was an outer border that formed another ring of black cloth that had kind of a waviness to it, like the pasta in lasagna. This made it even prettier, and it was one more defense against even the slightest little bit of light leaking it (or against the wearer peeking out).

I got a huge smile on my face, and Mom got a big one on hers too. I'm sure she put hours into making it for me, and I know it made her happy that she had been able to make me so happy. I put it on immediately. I absolutely could not see a thing. The bright lights of the city and the glare of the car and bus headlights coming in through our windows were gone. I couldn't even tell if it was day or night. I left it on and I followed the edge of the table to Mom to thank her with a great big kiss and hug. I continued around in my darkness to kiss and hug Dad and Michael too. I was a very happy birthday girl. I wore the mask for a while, at least until the next TV show that I wanted to see came on. When it was time for bed, I got myself ready in the bathroom, then I put the mask on and I had Michael lead me sightless to my bed. I loved that mask and I wore it to sleep in just about every night from then on.

Let me share a little bit of the dynamic of our tie up games. I was in every way the crazier, naughtier, wilder, more adventurous partner in all this. But Michael was a great sport about it and he liked to make me happy. He also was (and is) a very cuddly, touch-oriented guy. Probably not quite as extreme as me, but we both treasured our cuddle time. And we trusted each other completely. I always knew that with Michael, I could be completely helpless and defenseless and also completely safe. And he knew that I would treat him with just as much love and care too.

Our games usually went to the next level of intensity like this. I'd get some idea of some newer and stricter way for me to be tied up. But rather than just have Michael do it to me, I'd try it out on him first. At first he was a little reluctant with some of my adventures. It wasn't that he was afraid I'd hurt him or anything; it's just that they pushed his limits on just how naughty we were going to pretend to be. At first I would explain to Michael exactly what I wanted to try on him, but we ended up dropping that. We both found it was more exciting to not know exactly what would happen and to be surprised. We were very careful to never hurt each other in our tie up games. This is actually more that I can say about our routine roughhousing and wrestling, where we both picked up a few bruises here and there, not because we ever tried to hurt each other but because we had our share of collisions, falls, and other mishaps. So in some ways, our tie up stuff was our gentlest, safest active play.

So anyhow, I'd get an idea of something new. I was careful about timing, and when Michael was in a playful mood I'd ask if he wanted to try something new. He always knew something naughty was coming. Then I'd ask him if he wanted to be surprised. After the first, mildest rounds, he started to always say "yes" on the surprise. Then I'd try my new way of tying him up. Once I'd finished applying my ropes, I'd let him struggle for a bit. Sometimes he'd get out right away, then he'd do the same thing to me. Those were the shorter games.

But once in a while I'd hit on a good new way to tie him where he was still stuck after a few minutes. If he didn't get out right away, I'd switch out of my evil crime show character back to the loving but overly affectionate little sister and I'd cuddle up to Michael and I'd hug him and kiss him. I could read the expressions on Michael's face and eyes easily, and I could tell he absolutely loved the attention and the affection. Once I made sure he knew how much I loved him, I'd let him back to struggling. Eventually he'd get out; neither of us had figured out how to tie somebody up really securely yet. One he finally got out, the expectation was that he would attack me without mercy, do to me everything I had done to him, and hopefully more. I did a good job of teaching him what I liked. He started tying me up tighter, and when the cuddle time came he would just squeeze the stuffing out of me, which was my favorite part of all.

On to my next tie up game challenge. In the TV shows we watched the victims were almost always tied up very securely, and they rarely escaped without help. In the games Michael and I played, the victim invariably escaped if the captor didn't actively guard them. This was mostly because as kids we really didn't know how to tie someone up properly.

The next small bit of progress came when I was in the library again. I came across a book called something like "The Big Book of Knots". It had all kinds of knots; knots for sailors and knots for camping and knots to keep your luggage on the roof of your car. Knots to improvise a flagpole or tie up a horse. I was interested by all the knots, but I had a feeling I wouldn't find what I was really interested in; knots to tie up people. I went to the index in the back and looked for "Houdini" but there was no entry. I looked over the table of contents and it was quite a nice collection but nothing that appealed to my naughtier interests. But I persisted, and I looked through the whole book carefully.

Finally, near the back of the book, in the section only titled "Miscellaneous Knots", I found "Rope Handcuffs"! Looking back on it, they were not very good handcuffs, but the basic idea was a short piece of rope where each end would tie back to the middle with a "two half hitches" knot, forming two loops. Ideally, you would make the loops just big enough to slip over the hands, then slide the knots to tighten the loops around the wrists. Still, it seemed perfect; another way to tie somebody up, and the "handcuffs" would play right into Michael's interest in being a policeman.

Now that we were a little bit older, Mom let us spend more time unsupervised upstairs in the apartment while she was downstairs working in her sewing shop. She still came up every half hour or so to check on us, or asked us to come down and check in with her, usually during the commercials in our TV shows. She also started to tolerate our playing around with our mild tie up games even when she wasn't right with us. We hadn't broken any of her safety rules, and she was comfortable with how we treated each other. Michael and I loved each other more than anything in the world (and we still do), and we would never do anything to hurt each other (but sometime we played just a little bit rough and naughty, especially me).

Also, the materials in the shop had been rearranged some. Mom had separated out the cheap stuff and scraps and random odds and ends and set that aside from things that were expensive or critical for her business. We were more freely allowed to dig through the scraps or take them to use for school projects or scout projects or play with them. One day I saw about a two foot scrap of the nice soft white rope there in the "free to grab" section. I stashed it away and brought it upstairs. I kept it well hidden, but when nobody else was around I'd get the knot book and make the handcuff knot. I decided to take a chance and try it on myself. There really wasn't much risk, since I was going to have my hands in front of me, and in the worst case, I'd just go down to Mom's shop so she could let me out. So I tried, and the knots didn't slide as well as I had hoped. It made it a little harder than I had planned to get them on me, but also a little harder to get them off. Still, they were a step up from just being wrapped up in a big long rope. I also thought about how I might improve them, but I really didn't know much of anything about knots.

After playing privately with my rope handcuffs for a few days, I decided to spring them on Michael. "Do you still want to be a policeman, Michael?" He was a little less sure now. His interests had broadened. "I'm not sure. Maybe, I guess." So I flipped the scene around. "Well I decided to be a policewoman! And you're under arrest! Turn around and face the wall. Put your hands on the wall over your head and spread your legs!" As you can probably guess, we watched an awful lot of police shows. Adam-12, Dragnet, Hawaii Five-O, anything our cheap TV could pick up we would watch. We kind of had an unwritten rule that when one of wanted to play act, the other always played along. So Michael put his hands on the wall over his head and I frisked him. Then I took his right hand down behind his back, just like the in police shows, and I slipped on one of the rope cuffs. Michael looked surprised, but played along. I tightened the sliding knot, them brought his left hand behind his back into the other loop and I tightened that one down.

I had gotten out of the rope handcuffs easily when I practiced on my own, but I knew how they worked and my hands were in front. I had caught Michael by surprise, and they proved far more effective. Instead of working the sliding knots loose. Michael did his usual thing of thrashing around and yanking as hard as he could. This only tightened things.

After Michael had struggled ineffectively for a couple of minutes, I pounced onto him for a major tickle torture. We roughhoused and wrestled and tickled each other all the time, so this wasn't any different, except that his hands were stuck behind his back so he was almost defenseless. I pulled his T-shirt all the way up to his neck to complete expose his tummy and ribs which were very ticklish (just like mine). I gave him the tickle torture of his life, but I do love my brother so after I thought I'd been mean enough I stopped and hugged him and kissed him instead.

Then I heard Mom's sewing machine shut off, and I heard the sound of her bench drawers opening and closing as she put things away. I knew she would be upstairs in a few minutes, and I was keeping my new game quiet for now, so I went around behind Michael to release the cuffs. His struggles had really tightened them, so I ended up biting at the most exposed knot with my teeth, and I was able to work it loose. Once one of his hands was free it was pretty easy (using my teeth again) to get the knot out of the second one. A couple of minutes after I had released Michael and hidden my rope, Mom came upstairs. Mom might have been OK with our playing these tie up games in front of her, like she was with our milder ones when we were younger downstairs in the play area, but somehow being sneaky about it made it more exciting.

Michael and I had another chance to play the next day. I "arrested" Michael again. This time he knew enough not to thrash and pull wildly. Instead he methodically felt around at the knots. He didn't understand that the key to getting free was to slip the knots the other way to enlarge the wrist loops. So he just picked at the knots to try to untie them. He probably could have with both hands, but each knot was only reachable by one hand, and they were just too hard to untie without a second hand. So Michael stayed stuck and got another tickle torture from his loving but naughty little sister. This time, since he hadn't struggled and made the knots so tight, I was easily able to release him. This also meant that the cuffs stayed tied in their shape, so he could inspect them. And once again we heard the sounds from Mom's shop that indicated she would soon be upstairs, so the rope went away.

I'm not really sure why we made it a point of putting the rope away. I guess we felt a little bit private about our tie up games. Also, the status of the rule about playing such things when Mom wasn't present was now kind of a gray area, not officially approved but generally tolerated.

The next time we played, we started out as usual. Michael was under arrest and I frisked him. But he surprised me. When I reached to take his first hand, he pushed off the wall and scooped me up into his arms and carried me over to our living room couch. He put me face down on the couch and sat right on my butt so I couldn't roll over or get up. "Now you're under arrest, Miss Julia!" He snatched the rope cuffs from my hands.

I was almost exploding with excitement. My beloved big brother had taking the initiative on some roughhousing, and he had me pinned down and trapped between his legs, and he was about to tie my hands behind my back. This way pretty much my wildest dream for this stage of our play. Michael took my right hand and lifted it up behind me. The way he had me pinned down I couldn't offer any real resistance. He slipped the loop over my wrist. It took him a minute to figure out how to slide the knot, but he had all the time he wanted; I was trapped on the couch under his weight and I couldn't move. And I'm really a touch oriented person so the warmth of his body and the pressure of his legs as he squeezed my hips between them was wonderful anyhow. I was thinking about how I felt to be pinned down like this. We wrestled a lot, but usually not like this. Michael soon mastered the knot and got the first cuff tightened onto my wrist. He easily got the second one in place too. Then, for a little more security I guess, he took the two short free ends of the rope and tied them together as best he could. His knot work wasn't the best, but that little addition definitely impeded my escape.

Then, for one more final surprise, he had taken my sleep mask from my bed headboard and hidden it under a newspaper next to the couch. Once he had me tied up, he took my mask and put it on me. He made sure it was on just right, and that the elastic was in the proper place so it wouldn't pull my hair and it definitely wouldn't slip off. I couldn't see a thing!

Then the tickle torture began. Michael's gentle fingers were quite skilled at driving me absolutely crazy. I think I've already told you I'm a very touch oriented person. Tickle games were a huge thrill to me, like going on the biggest roller coaster at the amusement park. Michael already had complete access to my bare feet, and he pulled my shirt up enough so the bare skin of my tummy and my ribs on the sides were also easy targets. As I think about it, a roller coaster ride is a good description of how the tickle games really made me feel. The part at the beginning of being tied up was like the ride up to the top. Then all the tickling was like the wild drop and curves and bumps through the ride. Finally, the sweet wonderful hugging and cuddling at the end was like the ride slowing to a stop.

So here I was, on the "big drop" as Michael pulled my shirt up further to expose more of my ribs to his devilishly teasing fingers. I had been encouraging him to push my limits and explore just how much I could take. We hadn't found them. As much as Michael would tickle me, I kept wanting more. And he did give me a deliciously long and wonderful tickle session this time. Finally he decided it was time to stop the tickle torture and he switched to the sweet hugs and kisses that always marked the end of our tickle fights.

One of our favorite TV shows was about to start, and we heard the noises of Mom's sewing machine downstairs, so I guess Michael decided there was no rush to let me out. He cuddled me next to him on the couch and lifted my mask up to my forehead so I could see again. We watched as the show began. My back (and my tied hands) were away from Michael and out of his sight, so I decided to secretly begin working on my escape.

I had been ready for this, and I was going to just slip a finger of the opposite hand under the wrist loop and start working the sliding knot back to give myself some slack. But the extra knots Michael had made with the loose ends messed up my plans. Fortunately for me, they weren't tied very well. I had trouble reaching them, but I did manage to eventually pick the extra knots loose, then it was pretty easy to get some slack back in the loops. I worked very slowly and quietly, making sure Michael was concentrating on the show and not on what I was up to.

By the time the long run of commercials came halfway through the show, I was ready. The loops were plenty big again. During the last segment of the show I popped both of my wrists out but I held onto the cuffs and kept my hands behind my back. Right when the show cut to the commercials, I pounced on Michael and I pushed him face down and sat on his butt, just like he had done to me. Turnabout was always fair play in our games. I knew what I was doing, so I had his hands cuffed in seconds. I put my sleep mask on him so he couldn't see a thing. While he was still face down I pulled his shirt up as far as I could and stared in on his ribs. After a warmup tickle, I rolled him over and gave him the full treatment. He was too distracted by the tickle torture to try to escape. As the show was resuming, I gave him his well deserved hugs and kisses and pulled him back up and lifted up the mask so he could see the show. I put my arm around him and held the rope between his wrists to prevent any opportunities for escape. Finally at the end of the show I let him out.

So all this was lots of fun, but neither of us had figured out how to tie somebody up in a way that was truly inescapable. For Michael, this didn't really matter; he played these games partly because he liked the wrestling and roughhousing and physical contact, and partly because these games made me so happy and he was a sweet brother who liked to make me happy.

For lack of a better idea, we tried to make things more secure by adding more ropes. The prisoner of the moment would end up in the rope handcuffs, then get ropes wrapped all around their torso and legs. Depending on whether or not a favorite TV show was on, the prisoner might also be blindfolded with the sleep mask. We had an unwritten rule to never make each other miss a favorite show, although watching while tied up was a definite possibility.

Still, winding more rope around the victim just slowed down their inevitable escape. Of course now you could go online and find all kinds of pictures of people tied up very effectively with rope, usually with with a very carefully placed and tied rope on the prisoner's wrists (or, better still, wrists and elbows). But this all happened a long time ago, and we had no such resource. So we mostly learned by trial and error, and it was mostly error.

We also continued our different escape styles. I was quiet, focused, and methodical, thinking about each move and gathering more slack strategically. Michael would thrash around insanely, usually timing his fiercest struggles with times Mom was running her loudest sewing machine, so we wouldn't be heard downstairs in her shop. Michael's method was usually every bit as effective as mine in ultimately escaping.

One day near the end of that school year, things went wrong. It was a hot, humid day, which was typical for our city in late spring. Because of the heat, after we had gotten home from school and taken off our school clothes, we had just stayed in our underwear. I just had on a tank top undershirt and my panties. Michael was just in his briefs. This was not at all unusual for us when the weather was hot and we were home with just our family.

It was my turn to tie up Michael, and I had put him in the rope handcuffs as securely as I knew how to make them. Then I took a really long rope and wound about twenty turns around him from his armpits down to his ankles. I finished him off with my sleep mask.

The sleep mask was more of an impediment to escape for me than for Michael. Without vision, my careful planning was limited to what little I could feel about the ropes. For Michael, it just didn't matter; he would just struggle and thrash as hard as he possibly could.

And struggle and thrash was exactly what Michael did that day. It was probably a mistake on my part to leave him standing. Mom was working on her loud sewing machine, so Michael went to a full powered struggle. He struggled with his arms as hard as he could, and he jumped up and down too, which did start to get him some slack. But it also made him lose his balance. He started to fall toward one of our dining chairs. Like most of our furniture in those days, it was just a cheap secondhand wood chair. And I knew that if Michael fell into it he could be hurt. So I dove myself in between him and the chair, and at that same moment I heard Mom's sewing machine stop. I shoved the chair away very hard and dove under Michael to stop his fall. There were two loud noises. One was a dull thud as he fell on me. It hurt a little bit, but not too badly. The other noise was the sound of breaking glass. Mom had a new jar of jam for our after school snacks in a grocery bag that had been sitting on the chair. When the chair went flying, so did the bag. Right onto the hard floor, which resulted in the swift demise of the jam.

Then we heard a third noise, the sound of the squeaky door that went from the back of Mom's workshop up to our little apartment. That could only mean one thing, which was that we were in trouble. I pounced onto Michael, pulled off the sleep mask and hid it under the couch cushion, and I tried to pull the ropes off him as fast as I could. I had him more than half undone when Mom burst into the apartment. She saw the overturned chair, and then turned to the grocery bag which was already dampened from the jam leaking from the broken jar. She shouted something in her native language which I'll roughly translate as "What in hell are you little hooligans doing?"

Then Mom ordered me to until Michael, which I did as fast as I could. I had a very bad feeling about the future of our tie up games, but it is late and this story is long so that will have to wait until part 3.

I hope you liked part 2! Let me know if you want more!

[Soraka]

Hi friends, I hope you enjoyed the first two parts of my story. I had to stop writing for a while at the end of part 2, just as my brother Michael and I had been caught in flagrante delicto by Mom in a tie up game gone wrong. Mom knew at least in general that we were playing tie up games, and she pretty much tolerated it as long as we were careful to be safe and we only played games we both wanted to play and we didn't break anything. The issue this time was the rule about not breaking anything; we had just broken two things, a big new glass jar of jam and that rule.

Mom turned off the TV set and she glared at Michael. I was still finishing up getting my rope handcuffs untied from Michael's wrists. Michael looked so embarrassed and guilty I thought he was going to die. He was only wearing his briefs, which really wasn't unusual when we were in our hot, stuffy, apartment (no air conditioning!) with only family around. I was also minimally clothed, in just a little tank top undershirt and my panties.

Mom looked into the paper bag on the floor, which was already damp from the jam that was oozing from the broken glass jar. Then she glared at me. Obviously I was the one who had tied up Michael, so that made me the most guilty of all. One thing that we absolutely did not do in our family was to waste food, so the broken jam jar was a major violation.

Mom could have a bit of a temper at times, but all in all she was a loving mother and she was generally pretty quick to forgive, especially when our mishap had been accidental (which it was, mostly) and when we were sincerely remorseful. I wasn't remorseful about the tie up games, of course, but both Michael and I felt very bad about the mess and the waste of good food. There was another family rule we had. When we were in trouble for something, Michael and I were expected to answer everything with complete honesty. In exchange, Mom and Dad would always be a little bit more lenient that they might otherwise have been. All in all it was a good bargain, and we all honored it.

Mom's questioning began just as I finished getting the last of the rope off of Michael. I was the one in the hot seat, so it was my turn for complete honesty. The first question was why had I tied Michael up like that, with so much rope? I confessed my desire to tie him up so well that he wouldn't be able to get out without help, but that I hadn't yet succeeded at this. The next question was why I wanted to tie Michael up that way? Was I mad at him, or getting him back for something, or trying to be mean? The answer to all of these was a clear no. Mom watched my eyes and Michael's carefully as I spoke. It was the truth and there seemed to be little doubt. So what was my reason then. I'm not quite sure why it was a little bit embarrassing for me to tell Mom the honest answer, but I told her. It was because I wanted Michael to also be able to tie me up so well that I couldn't get out without help. I told Mom I was very frustrated because no matter how much rope I used, it was never enough and Michael would still get out. And the same thing happened when he tied me up. Mom didn't seem pleased, but she also didn't seem really mad like when she walked in the door and first saw that broken glass jar.

Mom's last question for me was whether Michael ever hurt me or ever tied me up against my wishes. Finally I had gotten an easy question that was easy to answer honestly. "No and no!" Mom asked Michael the same question, with the same answer. Then Mom got a bit of a funny look on her face that was almost seemed like a sly little smile that she tried to hide.

Then Michael got the hot seat. How did the jar get broken. He told her honestly that he was thrashing to get out of the ropes and he lost his balance and fell into the chair. "Really?" I knew Michael wanted to be honest but he didn't want to blame me. So I jumped in. "Actually I knocked the chair over. Michael was going to fall into it and I jumped in and pushed the chair so he wouldn't get hurt." Mom returned to questioning Michael, "so is that the way it happened?" "Yes", Michael said somewhat sheepishly. The next question was on why he was thrashing around so much. Michael told her that was just his way of playing the game; the challenge was for him to get out of my ropes, and he would do it by thrashing around.

Mom asked if either of us had anything else to say. Michael didn't say anything. I asked if we were in big trouble. Mom was guarded in her answer. She said she wasn't happy that we had broken the jam jar and wasted food. And no more TV for the rest of the day. And we were to have some time to sit and think about our behavior.

"Sit and think" was Mom and Dad's language for what parents these days call a "time out". They didn't believe in spanking; they considered that too violent and uncivilized. We didn't have anything like a "naughty chair" or a "designated corner". When we had been bad, Mom would point to a spot on the floor, and we were to sit there until she decided it had been long enough. Our floor was kind of nasty old hard wood, not carpeted, but there were some rugs in a few strategic places. The biggest, softest, nicest rug was in front of the couch, filling the space between the couch and the TV (which was about all the living room space we had in our little apartment). Mom pointed to one end of the rug and looked at me. My designated "sit and think" spot. Then she pointed to the opposite end of the rug and looked at Michael.

So there we sat on our rug, still in just our underwear. If anything, it had gotten a littler hotter and more humid since we had gotten home from school, so as far as I was concerned, the less clothing the better. We were expected to sit still and to remain silent. Mom or Dad might say things to us, but we were not to speak unless it was to answer a direct question from one of them.

Mom had no questions for us. She picked up the bag with the broken jar and set it in the sink. She cleaned up the sticky spot on the floor and took the bag again. She muttered something about a feast for the raccoons and the rats and headed downstairs to take the bag to the garbage. After we heard her close the garbage can in the alley, she came back upstairs and gathered up the pile of ropes and took them back downstairs to her sewing shop.

Michael and I sat and looked at each other. We both felt bad about the wasted jam and about getting Mom upset. I had a minor bruise from our fall, but it wasn't anything bad. Michael had one too. My biggest fear of all was that Mom would put an end to our tie up games. In any case, I think we both expected Mom would do as she usually did when we had messed up, which was to leave us sitting for a while (with no TV) while she worked in her sewing shop. Eventually she'd come back, decide we had learned our lesson, and we would be free to go play quietly.

Today was different; after just a couple of minutes we heard Mom coming back up the stairs. I had my back to her so I couldn't see, and I didn't dare turn around. She set something down on the table behind me and walked over to Michael. She was holding something that was kind of a thick cloth disk, sort of like a hockey puck but a little smaller in diameter and thicker. It looked like it was made of heavy khaki canvas, which was a familiar material to us because of Mom's frequent jobs repairing large tents.

Mom unrolled it and it turned out it was actually a cloth strap. It was short, only about a foot long. Mom went over to Michael and she told him it would probably help him to make better choices if he had more time to sit quietly and be still and think, and she had a way to help him do this. She told him to sit on the floor on his bottom and bend his legs so his knees were up high. Then she had him lean forward against his thighs. She had him reach under his knees to clasp his hands together. Then she told him to unclasp his hands, and she pushed his elbows from the sides tight against his knees, so his wrists overlapped under his knees.

For all my fascination with tie up games and stories, I completely failed to anticipate what was about to happen. Once Michael's wrists were next to each other, Mom put the cloth strap around them. There was some kind of metal fastener on the end of the strap, but with a metal jaw with fine teeth instead of a buckle. Mom threaded the strap through the fastener and pulled it so it was tight and secure. Mom squeezed something on the fastener and we heard a snap. Then she slid the strap around his wrists just a little bit so there was no metal touching Michael's skin.

Michael looked completely astonished, but he knew the rule to remain silent unless asked a direct question, so he just sat there, with his wrists strapped together under his knees, basically hugging his legs to his chest. And with that strap securing his wrists together, there was no way he could let go of that hug.

The Mom went back to the table behind me and reappeared with a second, identical strap. "Same position as your brother" she told me. Now I got what was happening. I couldn't believe it, but I assumed the position, probably a little bit too eagerly. Mom put the strap around my wrists, pulled it snug, squeezed, and I heard the fastener snap, and she similarly adjusted my strap.

So now Michael and I were both kind of like little balls sitting on the floor in our underwear. Our wrists were secured behind our knees, so we were hugging our thighs up to our chests. The straps kept us from pulling our wrists out, and with our wrists behind our bent knees we couldn't straighten our legs either, so we were stuck on the floor.

I wanted to say something, but Michael was giving me a warning look that could have burned right through me and the wall behind me, so I remained silent.

Mom went back to Michael, and slipped her little finger between the strap and his wrists, to make sure it wasn't too horribly tight. Then she did exactly the same little safety check for me.

Mom spoke a few more words. She told us she had important work to finish, and she wasn't happy that we had broken the jar and she wasn't happy that we had interrupted her work. She said that we were to sit quietly until she came back for us. She said she was leaving the door wide open so that if there was a serious emergency, we should yell and she would run back upstairs from her shop, but otherwise, we were to stay put and stay out of trouble. She added, with kind of a smirk, "and don't turn on the TV".

Then Mom went back down to her shop. Whatever she was working on was quiet; we didn't hear the loud sewing machine again. We didn't dare talk or even make a sound as that would violate the "sit and think" punishment rules.

I began to methodically investigate my predicament. I tried to pull my arms apart but the strap around my wrists was too tight. With my hands pointing in opposite directions with my wrists crossed, I couldn't get my fingers anywhere near the strap or its fastener. I'm very flexible, so I could bend forward and bring my knees to my face, but with the strap on my wrists behind my knees, there was no way to use my teeth on it.

I tried to see if I could slip my arms along my legs and pop my butt through, which would at least get me out of this balled up position, but with my wrists overlapped my arms weren't even close to long enough for this.

The situation sank in for me. With a little one foot canvas strap, Mom had secured me in a way that left me really and truly helpless. I was not getting out of this until she let me out. Twelve silly inches of a canvas strap had accomplished what Michael and I had failed to do with a hundred feet of strong rope.

Although Michael was certainly a wonderful tie up game playmate (and a wonderful big brother), Mom had demonstrated her vastly superior skills. I was so excited to be strapped up like this. And I wondered if Mom was really intending for this to be a punishment. If so, it was especially wonderfully naughty, since I was having the most fun I could imagine with something that was supposed to be a punishment.

I looked over at Michael. He didn't seem nearly as happy as I was. He did genuinely like tie up games, although obviously not as much as me. I think he was still upset about him falling and us breaking the jar and making Mom unhappy.

We were missing a favorite TV show. Michael and I both looked over at the TV set. Of course it would have been a major violation of our "sit and think" time to turn on the TV, but we both thought about that option, and we both recognized the complete impossibility of it.

I'm guessing either of us could have scooted on the floor little by little to get over to the table where the TV was. But since we were both stuck on the floor with our wrists strapped like this, there was no way we would be able to get up or reach up to get to the on/off switch, which was on the volume control up at the very top corner of the TV.

I though about whether Michael and I might be able to scoot together, and maybe one of us could help the other to escape, but I doubted it. The final "click" when Mom secured each strap made me think they must have somehow been locked into place, although that hardly mattered since whatever mechanism was securing my strap was tucked in behind my knees, definitely way out of my reach and probably not something Michael could help with even if we worked together.

Mom left us on the floor strapped up and helpless like that for about twenty minutes. The she came back upstairs to assess the situation. Michael got the first question. "What do you have to say for yourself?" Michael responded very humbly, "I'm sorry we were playing too rough and I'm sorry I broke the jam made a mess and wasted food." Mom seemed satisfied, and she went over to Michael and reached behind his knees and did something and it sounded like a snap getting unsnapped. Mom took the strap off Michael's wrists and he was free. He stood back up and sat on the couch. Then she came over to me, "And what about you, Miss?" I was having fun being strapped up like this and I was feeling very mischievous. "I didn't think it was possible to tie somebody up with just a little strap like this." Mom answered with her own observation, "And I thought this would be long enough for Michael to learn his lesson, but probably not long enough for you, and I was right."

Mom gave her sly little smile again and she turned to Michael. "I need to finish some work at my sewing machine, and I don't want any more trouble from Julia, so I'll need you to keep a close watch on her. I don't think she'll be able to make too much trouble for you like this. Take good care of her and call me if there is an emergency."

And Mom disappeared back down the steps to her shop, leaving me in just my little white cotton undershirt and panties, all strapped up in a ball and completely helpless and defenseless. And completely at the mercy of Michael. Which was exactly what I wanted most of all. Better still, a minute after Mom left, her noisy sewing machine started, which meant that Michael could give me the full treatment without us risking being heard.

Michael scooped me up off the floor into his arms and carried me to the couch. He put me down gently on it, sat next to me, and pulled me onto his lap. "So Mom says I have to keep an eye on you for being so naughty!" Michael had stopped feeling sad about the mishap and he was obviously playful again. And since he had just experienced being strapped into a ball like that himself, he knew just how completely helpless I was. I was kind of going crazy in my head about it too. Here I was, stripped down to my underwear, strapped up and helpless and there was absolutely no way I could get out without help. And Michael could do anything he wanted to me and there wouldn't be a thing I could do to defend myself. My tie up fantasies were running wild.

Michael told me he thought I was so naughty I should get a spanking. Getting a spanking was entirely a fantasy game of my invention. We were a "no hitting, no spanking" family, no exceptions. At least in real life. However, some of our friends at school didn't have it so good, and my naughty curiosity about what it was like to be spanked got the best of me. Earlier this year, as I was working to spice up our games, I eventually got Michael to role play with me. I'd be a very naughty girl, and he would have no choice but to give me a spanking. At first he absolutely hated the idea, but I really am wild and crazy and when he saw how much fun I had with it, his resistance faded. He let me spank him too, almost too easily; I think he felt less guilty when it was reciprocal.

Since I had broken something and gotten us in trouble with Mom, the "rules of play" that I had made up meant that I essentially had a "mandatory sentence" of a good spanking. Michael used a couple of couch pillows and rolled me around so I was face down across his lap with my bottom up in the air. He gave me a couple of little love swats on my bottom. My thin cotton panties offered essentially no protection. Of course Michael didn't want to hurt me; he was playing along with my game. And I was loving every second of it. He ramped up to actually giving me some pretty good swats that were stinging. I struggled against the strap holding my wrists together, mostly to reassure myself that I really couldn't escape. And my hands were also completely useless like that for defending my vulnerable bottom. Michael spanked me pretty hard, until it was almost too much, but not quite. Exactly the way I wanted it. He finished up with a couple more little love swats and then he rolled me around so I was face up again.

With me tied up in a ball, Michael couldn't really hug me in the usual way, so he just pulled himself on top of me on the couch and wrapped his arms all around me and squeezed me and kissed me on the forehead. Then he sat me back up on the couch and snuggled up next to me for a few minutes, as we both unwound from the spanking. Soon, Michael was ready to administer my next punishment, which was to be a severe tickle torture. Being curled up into a ball made some parts of me hard to reach and others very vulnerable. Michael pulled up my undershirt to get better access to my very sensitive tummy and ribs. He went to my bed and got my sleep mask and put it on me, so I wouldn't be able to see where his next touch would be. He ever so lightly, gently, teasingly checked me out all over for ticklishness. The sides of my tummy just below my ribs and my bare feet proved to be especially sensitive, so he gave them the most attention. I laughed my head off, but with Mom's loud sewing machine running, nobody could hear us.

Once Michael finished up my tickle torture, I got another round of wonderful hugging and cuddling. In a few more minutes, we heard Mom's sewing machine stop. Michael pulled my shirt back down and put my sleep mask away. Mom soon reappeared in the apartment. She found us cuddled up together on the couch, which was completely normal for us (except for the fact that I was strapped up into a little ball). She came over to me, "I hope you've learned your lesson now, Miss Houdini!", and she gave me that sly little smile again. Mom had obviously figured out just how much I liked the tie up games, and she was apparently willing to play along somewhat. Then Mom released the strap and let me out. I got up and hugged her and I hugged Michael, and that was the end of my "punishment".

My excitement didn't fade out at all that evening. I was unusually wound up (even for me), practically bouncing off the walls of our little apartment. Mom and Dad and Michael all got lots of extra hugs from me. I told Mom the extra hugs were because I was sorry about the broken jam jar. By this point, Mom had figured out how much I liked to play tie up games, especially when I was the one tied up by somebody I loved and trusted. And I'm sure she knew that's why I was so excited and bubbly that evening. But she liked everyone to be happy, and that made her happy too. She told me I was her crazy girl and she loved me. She gave me lots of extra hugs too, and so did Dad. That was definitely an afternoon to remember for me!

[Soraka]

Sometime during the winter when Michael and I were in fifth grade, I began my first experiments with gags. When I watched our steady stream of police and crime shows, I always got extra excited when the bad guys had their victim not just tied up but gagged too. I had a hunch that Mom could have somehow made a very effective cloth gag, just as she had done for the sleep mask / blindfold, but I just couldn't think of a way to ask for one, nor could I think of a plausibly innocent excuse for such a thing.

I figured I was on my own for this one. I've always liked to take the scientific approach to things that interested me, and with that wonderful gift of the sleep mask, now the science of gags had reached the top of my list. I wondered if it was really possible to silence somebody with just a strip of cloth or a piece of tape.

I decided to start with some self experimentation. My access to tape was limited, but I got my hands on a little bit of several kinds of it. I tried them all. As long as the tape stayed in place, it was reasonably effective, but most of it just wasn't sticky enough to stay. It tasted awful, and if it was sticky enough to be even a little bit effective, it hurt like hell coming off, and sometimes left a nasty residue.

Cloth was gentler, and there were certainly plenty of scraps of it around for the taking, given all Mom's sewing work. I tried the obvious idea of just wrapping a strip of cloth around my head to cover my mouth. Simple and comfortable, but also almost completely ineffective.

The inspiration for my best idea came from something I saw on a crime show. A kidnapper tied his victim up to a chair. Her hands were tied to the chair behind her back, and her ankles were tied to rungs between the chair legs on each side so she couldn't get her feet to the floor. More ropes around her waist and chest held her tightly in the chair. I wanted to get Michael to try tying me up like that sometime.

Victims tied to chairs was pretty common in the crime shows. When they were gagged, it was usually with a piece of white medical adhesive tape. I didn't have access to a good supply of that kind of tape, and the one time I did get a piece, between the horrible taste of the adhesive and the pain when I took it off, I decided I'd never try that again.

But in this particular show, the villain took a long, thin scarf and he put a double knot right in the middle to make a big lumpy ball of cloth. He went over to his victim and his stuffed the big knot in her mouth. Then he tied off the ends of the scarf at the back of her neck so she couldn't spit it out. She thrashed around on the chair and struggled and grunted and made a lot of muffled, indistinct sounds, but she couldn't really talk.

I had to find out for myself if that would really work or if it was just another TV show fake. I found a suitable long narrow strip of white cotton cloth in Mom's collection of scraps. Since it was going to end up in my mouth, I washed it out and hung in out on our fire escape where it would get the sun and the wind for a while. Then I did the experiment. I put a big double knot right in the middle, and I stuffed the knot in my mouth. Even though Michael says I have a big mouth, I really don't. The knot packed my mouth pretty full. I brought the ends behind me and tied them.

Then I tried to talk. It was just about like the poor kidnapped women in the crime show. I could grunt and make muffled sounds, but I really couldn't talk with my mouth packed full of cloth. I tried to spit it out, but I had tied it tightly enough behind my neck to keep it securely in place. It worked!

Of course any good science experiment should be tried on a different test subject to make sure it is repeatable. In my next rope handcuff play session with Michael, once I had him cuffed with the rope I ran over to my hiding place and pulled out the knotted cloth strip. He'd watched all the same shows as me, so I'm sure he knew exactly what it was for. I held it with the knot in front of his mouth. "Open up!" He obeyed, and I stuffed the knot in his mouth and tied off the cloth behind his head. I watched him carefully to make sure he was OK. He didn't try to speak. "Are you OK like that, Michael?" He nodded yes. "Can you talk at all?" He tried to speak. The words kind of came out, but all garbled and muffled, just like with my experiments on myself. It worked! Of course when I finally let Michael escape and he got to pay me back, I got gagged too. It was different with my hands tied so I couldn't just untie the gag or pull it out. I was definitely more helpless, and of course that made the game naughtier and more exciting and fun.

So the next step was to combine everything new that I had learned into one big naughty tie up play session with Michael. I waited impatiently for a suitable occasion. My opportunity finally came one day a few weeks after our fifth grade school year had ended. Mom had put Michael and I to work helping her sort and inventory various small items in her workshop.

As we finished up the inventory, Mom realized she urgently needed some more materials from some shop far enough away that she needed to take a city bus. Now that we were a little older and we had generally been responsible, she was OK with leaving us by ourselves for longer times. Her trip would take a little over an hour. She told us as soon as we finished writing down the last of our inventory counts we could go back upstairs and watch TV. Michael finished his part first and rushed upstairs to turn on the TV. I wasn't far behind him, but as I walked through the storage area to get to the steps up to our apartment, I noticed something on one of the shelves. It was those two little cloth straps that Mom had used on Michael and I for our "punishment". I grabbed one of them and headed upstairs. Michael had the TV on but the show was an obvious rerun, and not one of our favorite episodes. I put the cloth strap down quietly, and Michael didn't notice it.

Our apartment was even hotter than Mom's workshop. Now that we were out of the shop, the clothes became optional. I took off my shorts and my T-shirt, leaving me with nothing but my white cotton panties. Michael similarly stripped down to his briefs. This wasn't unusual for us at all. We we still well before puberty, and in any case Michael and I shared a bunk bed in our sleeping area and we didn't hide to change clothes or shower. I guess we'd only seen each other completely naked maybe a couple thousand times or so. So a little girl without a shirt wasn't anything noteworthy in my family.

Once we were down to our undies, I took the opportunity to hug and squeeze Michael. I guess I was just addicted to skin to skin contact (and I still am), and I loved to be touched as long as it was by someone I loved and trusted, which included all of Michael, Mom, and Dad. Michael tolerated, and even welcomed all this attention from his overly affectionate little sister.

I was in the mood for some major roughhousing, and we had plenty of time until Mom would be back. I had also just started a bit of a growth spurt that spring, so even though I was eleven months younger than Michael, I caught up to him in height. I was very strong and very flexible, so we were pretty evenly matched. We never fought to hurt each other, no punching or kicking or anything like that. But we had lots and lots of play fights, and they were always wrestling matches.

I had introduced a little routine where once the "winner" had the "loser" pinned down, the loser had to concede defeat and submit to a kiss from the winner. It was nice that we were so evenly matched, since I loved both "winning" and "losing". Of course both were complete "wins" as far as I was concerned. Winning was lots of fun, and I got to hug and squeeze and kiss Michael. And losing was just as much fun, being pinned down and trapped in his warm gentle arms, knowing it would end with a sweet kiss.

Today I was determined to win. I squeezed Michael hard with my arms around him just under his bottom, and I picked him up so his feet didn't reach the ground. It was only a couple of steps to the bunk bed, and I wrestled him down onto the bottom bunk (my bed) and I pounced on him and straddled him and got his wrists into my hands and I pinned him down. Michael was certainly capable of putting up a good resistance, but that day he didn't. So he "surrendered", and I bent down and gave him my victor's kiss and got up off him. But then as he started to get up, I pounced on him again, this time from behind and I pushed him face down onto my bed. I climbed onto his back and straddled him backwards, facing his feet.

I had Michael trapped pretty well between my legs, face down on my bed, in just his briefs. Now I got especially naughty and paddled his bottom in a sudden barrage with both hands. Of course this completely broke all the rules of our game, and of course that meant I had to be punished. "Hey!" Michael exclaimed, "no fair! I surrendered! You're supposed to let me go now." I wanted to give him a good reason, so I gave one more swat, hard enough to be sure to sting. "Out of control little sister!" Then I got off him and ran over to the shelf where I had put the cloth strap. I had also put my sleep mask and the cloth gag next to it. I grabbed them all and ran back to the bed as he was sitting up. "And now your crazy little sister is going to tie you up!"

I pounced on Michael again but he pulled me right against him and trapped me under him on my bed. While still holding very tightly in his arms, he rolled over so he was under me and he got me back for my attack with his own barrage of swats onto my bottom. Then he rolled us over again and let go and got up and came around behind me and scooped me up into his arms with my legs bent, my knees to my chest, and his hands behind my knees. "We'll see who ties who up!" I had started the game, and now it was going to go exactly the way I wanted it to. He set me down on the bed and told me to get my wrists crossed behind my knees or else I'd get spanked again.

Of course I would have liked another spanking, but not nearly as much as the other choice. He took the cloth strap and wrapped it around my wrists, just like Mom had done. He figured out how to tighten up the strap and how to snap down the little latch that made it extra secure. He checked that it wasn't too tight, and he picked up the knotted cloth. "Open up!" He stuffed the knot into my mouth and tied the cloth off behind my head. Finally, he took my sleep mask and put it on me, and carefully positioned it so I wouldn't have even the slightest chance of peeking.

So here I was again, secured with the cloth strap around my wrists and curled up in a little ball. But this time Mom was far away. I was almost naked, with nothing but my little white cotton panties, and I was securely gagged and blindfolded. There was absolutely no way I was getting out of this one without help. I was completely at Michael's mercy. And that excited me more than I could have imagined.

Michael carried me over to the couch and put me down gently. He sat next to me and pulled me into his lap. "Is my naughty, crazy little sister doing OK?" I nodded my "yes". "Have you had enough? Should I let you out now?" The last thing I wanted was to miss this experience. I shook a vigorous "no". So Michael knew this was my game and I was thrilled to be in it. He did not disappoint. He lightly stroked my skin with his fingers and went to my bare feet. I would have exploded into laughter, but the gag did a pretty good job of muffling me. Then he explored other places. The backs up my thighs from my knees up to the bottom of my panties made another good target. Light touches could be especially effective at tickling me, and Michael was a master of it. He didn't have to pull up my shirt up, since I wasn't even wearing one, so my ribs and tummy were another great target.

After a really great tickle torture, Michael gave me another spanking. This time he started very slowly, with the gentlest little love swats. He asked if I would be a good girl now. Of course I shook my head "no", so he had to spank me a little bit harder. Finally when my bottom was really stinging and it was getting to be too much I gave my "yes" to being a good girl again.

That triggered a really sweet finale. Michael untied the gag, popped it out of my mouth, and gave me a kiss on my lips. This is why I loved these tie up games so much. Michael and I could completely tune into each other and work some kind of communication into our games so we could always make it fun for both of us. Michael probably thought I was a little bit crazy (I think he still does, decades later), but he always did his very best to be just as sweet and gentle or just as naughty and rough with me as I wanted.

After that play session, we returned the cloth strap to Mom's sewing workshop before she got back. Being a little bit sneaky about our tie up games was part of the game too. Mom had caught us quite a number of times over our elementary school years with either me or Michael tied up at the hands of the other. Aside from her regular reviews that we were being safe and that everything was consensual, she tolerated it. Mainly, she wanted us to work hard in school and do well, which we did, and to stay out of trouble in the city (and there was plenty of that). Mom's main expectations at home were that we got our homework done promptly (which we did), and that we read lots of books from the library (which we both loved), and we gave her a hand with her business when she needed it. As long as we did all this, she only enforced minimal restrictions on our TV watching or our tie up games.

Another thing that happened late in that school year was that I started to get fairly good at actually tieing up Michael with rope. I got my hands on some white cotton rope. The nice thing about cotton rope was that it was reasonably soft on skin but it made really tight knots; even if the victim could reach a knot with one hand it was still very hard for them to pick that knot loose to escape.

Here is the scheme I had worked out for tying up my sweet prisoner Michael. I'd take a shorter piece of cotton rope and a longer one. I'd have his put his arms behind his back, wrists together with his hands pointing in opposite directions. I'd wrap the short rope around both his wrists, not too tight, then I'd use the end of the rope to cinch off and tighten the loops between his wrists. The knot would go right at the center, far out of reach of his fingers. Then I'd use the long rope to ties his ankles together, sort of the same way except that his legs were together and parallel instead of crossed in opposite directions like his arms. The long rope would have a long tail on it, and I'd bring that to the rope at his wrists and tie it there, so he'd be stuck in a hogtie position. As long as nothing was too tight, this was comfortable enough for the prisoner to stay in it for up to half an hour, and unlike being in a little ball, this left a lot more bare skin exposed for tickling.

That summer there was a record setting heat wave in our city, so given our lack of air conditioning, the privacy of our apartment, and the very casual attitude about nudity at home in our family, Michael and I spent a good deal of that summer in our underwear. As often as not, he'd be in just his briefs, and I'd be just in my panties. When it was my turn to do the tying up, I'd taken to putting Michael into my hogtie on the couch, then I'd join him on the couch and squeeze under him so he'd be in my lap. I could spank him, or roll him over and tickle his ribs and tummy, or just cuddle with him. He wasn't really that into playing with spanking the way I was, so I kept that to a minimum, just enough to tease him and to encourage him to spank me when I wanted to play rough and naughty like that.

One problem was that Michael just wasn't as good at placing ropes and tying knots as I was. I taught him my hogtie tactic as best I could. I had him practice on my wrists with my arms in front of me, so I could see well and coach him. He did get better at it, but more often that not I managed to slip a wrist through a rope or get a knot into reach of my fingers or something, so I'd escape. Even so it was lots of fun for both of us. One of our most important "rules of the game" was that every single tie up game always ended with a cuddling session.

But although I loved that gentle cuddly stuff, I also liked the rough play. Only about a week after our cloth strap play earlier in this story, we had a particularly rough session. Even as hot summer days went, that day was especially hot. I think the heat made both Michael and I sweaty and crazy. Mom had work for us in the morning, helping in her shop. She had a big old party canopy tent in there, and she was sewing on some reinforcements and replacing some damaged metal D-rings and putting on some new guy ropes. Mom had us bringing her materials and double checking measurements and cleaning up and sorting the scraps. Since customers would come into her shop, we dressed in shorts and T-shirts and sandals while we were downstairs, so we felt even hotter. Just after lunch, Mom thanked us for the help and said we could go upstairs to read or watch TV or play.

On the way upstairs, I grabbed a really nice extra piece of white cotton rope from Mom's surplus pile. We kicked off our sandals when we got in our apartment door, and I tossed the piece of rope on the couch. We turned on our window fans to a least get a little bit of a breeze. We went over to the bunk bed and I stripped off my T-shirt and shorts. I stood in front of the window fan in just my panties. Even though the air was hot and sticky, the breeze felt good on my sweaty bare skin. Michael similarly stripped down to his briefs and joined me in the stream of air. I asked him what kind of a game playing mood he was in. To my delight, he swept me into his arms and squeezed me up against him really tight and then he surprised me with a whole barrage of swats on my bottom. "I'm in a very naughty playing mood today!" was his answer. That was the way I was feeling too. I think the heat was making us both extra wild.

It was my turn to tie up Michael, and I couldn't wait to try out my newly acquired length of cotton rope. He was an especially willing victim that day. He eagerly followed my orders to lie face down on the couch with his wrists together behind his back. I teased him for a minute dragging the ends of the rope over his sweaty skin just enough to almost tickle him. He wasn't tied up yet, so of course he could have resisted if I had really tickled him. But I just wanted to take my time and play and enjoy the moment with my favorite playmate in the whole world. Michael was a patient playmate too. I probably would have run out of patience and told him to just hurry up and tie me up. But he let me enjoy my new rope for a few minutes.

So enough of my lightly dragging the rope over Michael's sweaty back. I wound it around his wrists, placing the loops neatly and carefully, and probably a little tighter than usual too. I crossed the ends of the rope and went crosswise to cinch off the loops between his wrists and I ended up with a square knot, which I pulled very tight. Now Michael was past the "tie up game point of no return". He was all mine and he wouldn't have the use of his arms or hands again until I felt like letting him out.

But I wasn't even close to done with him. I ran to my hiding place by the bunk bed and grabbed a few more things. A second cotton rope soon bound his ankles securely, and I tied the end to his wrists to put him in a hogtie. The knotted cloth gag went into his mouth to muffle any protests. Finally, my sleep mask went over his eyes. He was in total darkness and completely at my mercy. This was a good point to pause for a cuddle break. I squeezed Michael into my arms and asked if he was OK like this. He couldn't talk clearly enough to understand, but he nodded his "yes". I asked if he was enjoying this as much as I was. Another "yes" nod. Finally I asked if he was still in the mood for very naughty play. One more "yes" nod. Good! So was I! I had so much fun. I tickled Michael and I teased him and I spanked him and I hugged him and I squeezed him. He took it all but always gave me "yes" nods when I checked on him to be sure he was still OK.

Michael did make a very good effort to escape, but I had done much too good of a job with that cotton rope on his wrists. So I "attacked" him with another round. Michael especially got a thrill out of being tickled (I like being tickled too), so I did that the most of all. Finally we were coming up on the half hour mark. We never kept each other tied up for more than about half an hour, partly in the interests of safety and partly for comfort. One "rule behind the rules" in our games was "always leave your partner happy, healthy, and very eager to play again." So I finished up by cuddling Michael's now very sweaty body up close to mine. I untied the cloth gag and popped it out of his mouth. He breathed deeply as I went to work on freeing his legs and untying his ankles. "How was that?" I asked him. "Intense, crazy, wild, fun..." I was so glad he liked it. I could hardly wait for my turn, but I wanted to end the experience properly for Michael. I took off the sleep mask blindfold and snuggled up against him for one more round of cuddling before I freed his wrists.

I didn't realize there was trouble until I went to untie Michael's wrists. That square knot I had put in would not budge. Our sweat had dampened the rope, and wet cotton rope knots really, REALLY tight. Michael's struggles had tightened the knot even more. I picked at the knot with my fingers but made no progress at all. I climbed onto Michael and tried to bite it loose with my teeth, but still no luck. Michael was really stuck! Michael wasn't really paying attention to all this. He was just lying on the couch, enjoying the "tie up afterglow", very relaxed, even though his wrists were still securely tied. I started to almost panic. Most things didn't upset me much, but my inability to let Michael out really upset me. Tears came to my eyes.

I helped Michael to a sitting position on the couch, with his wrists still tied behind his back. I had only one idea left: go to Mom for help. I knew it was the right thing to do. I really wasn't sure how Mom would react. She certainly knew that we played tie up games. We were almost naked, but that just wasn't a big deal in my family. Michael wasn't hurt, but still, we had to get him out. So I stood Michael up and marched him down the steps to Mom's workshop. We stopped at the bottom of the stairs so I could peek around the corner and make sure Mom was alone. Most of the time she was, but I did not want to take a chance of being seen like this by a stranger.

I peeked carefully, and to my great relief Mom was alone in the sewing shop. But I was still on the edge of tears from getting Michael stuck like this, and now I had to explain this to Mom too, and face whatever the consequences might be.

I hope you liked part 4! You can probably guess what Mom does to Michael in part 5. If you guessed "let him out", you are right. That was the easy guess. For a real challenge, try to guess what Mom did to me. You'll have at least a few days to guess, since my writing time is fairly limited.

[Soraka]

Part 4 ended with a great tie up game where I had Michael in a hogtie with cotton ropes, and I had him gagged with a knotted cloth strip and blindfolded with my sleep mask. Except that the game wasn't quite over. I had untied Michael's ankles, and removed his gag and blindfold, but that left one last rope, the one that held his wrists behind his back.

Unfortunately, I had foolishly tied the knot in that rope much too tight, and our sweat had dampened the rope, which made it even worse. Michael was stuck, and my last resort option was to get help from Mom. So I had escorted Michael down the stairs from our little apartment to Mom's sewing workshop. It was a particularly hot, humid summer day, so we had been playing mostly unclothed; I was just in my white cotton panties, and Michael was just in his white cotton briefs (and the white cotton rope that bound his wrists behind his back).

Fortunately, Mom was all alone in her shop, finishing up the tent repair job she had been working on all day. I brought Michael over to her. There were tears on my cheeks. Mom looked at us. It was not normal for us to leave our apartment in just our underwear. Michael, of course, stood with his hands behind his back, since he had no choice. I blurted out my tale of woe, and I turned Michael around so Mom could see his tied wrists.

Mom stayed absolutely calm as the tears ran down my face. "You know, cotton rope can get really tight knots, especially if it is damp." Of course the rope was covered with our sweat from the heat and Michael's struggles and my roughhousing with him. "We might have to just cut the rope," Mom said. Although I hated to waste a great piece of rope, all I wanted now was to let Michael out. Mom went to her drawer and took our a fierce looking pair of cutting pliers. She also took out a smaller pliers. She went to a shelf and took a knitting needle too. She had Michael sit down in her chair, and she knelt down behind him. I watched, shaking with the tears going down my cheeks. Mom took the smaller pliers and grabbed the knot. With a few skillful twists she made a little slack, and pretty soon she worked the knitting needle through the knot. A couple more twists of the pliers and the knot was almost loose. She slid the knitting needle back out and finished untying the knot. "I guess we don't have to cut it after all." Mom unwound the rope, and Michael stood up, free again. He rubbed his wrists a little but he said they were fine.

And then the questioning. Mom seemed completely neutral; she wasn't upset like when we had broken the jam jar. The usual questions. Did we both really want to play? Were we being safe? How long had I kept Michael tied up? We gave all the right answers. I had stopped crying but my cheeks were wet with a mixture of sweat and tears. Mom pulled both me and Michael to her and she hugged and squeezed us. She told us she could see how much we loved each other and she was glad that we had fun together and that we were careful not to hurt each other.

So I boldly asked my question directly. "Does this mean we're not in trouble?" Mom kept her perfectly neutral look. She went though her checklist. Our tie up game was completely consensual. I had limited Michael's tie up time to half an hour. I never left him alone tied up. The ropes weren't tight enough to cut off his circulation. And we had come to her for help when we got in trouble. Pretty much a perfect checklist. She handed me a tissue to dry my tears and wipe off my sweaty face.

Then Mom got that sly little smile, the smile she would get when she was being the playful one. "No, not this time. But I do think it might be a good idea if I taught our little Miss Houdini a lesson about cotton rope." Mom went to a nearby shelf and took a coil of white cotton rope. It was about the same as the piece that she had just released Michael from, except that this one was about eight feet long. I figured the "lesson" would be some kind of safety lecture. Mom uncoiled the rope and folded it in half to find the exact center. Then she turned to me. "Hold out your arms straight in front of you, with your palms together." I immediately obeyed. To my great surprise, Mom put the rope over my hands and started tying my wrists. But I just assumed she was going to show me something about knots. She ran a couple of loops around my wrists and then looped between then to cinch things off, just like I had done to Michael except that my hands were in front of me instead of behind me. Mom knotted off the rope, leaving two very long tails that hung down onto the floor. Mom slipped her little finger between the ropes and my wrists and slid it around to be sure they wouldn't be tight enough to hurt me. Mom turned to Michael, "Do you think we should give our little escape artist a real challenge?" Michael returned her mischievous smile. "Of course!" By now both Michael and I realized we were dealing with "playful Mom" and not "angry Mom". And "playful Mom" was going to tie me up!

Mom told me to hold my arms straight up in the air, above my head. Then she told me to bend my elbows and bring my wrists to the back of my neck. She came around behind me and grabbed the two long rope tails hanging from my wrists. She told Michael to come over and hold the tails at a spot right at the middle of my back. She wrapped the tails all the way around me, just below my ribs and came back to the spot straight down from my wrists where Michael was holding them. She looped the ropes together there and held them in place.

Then she told me to try to reach the spot in the middle of my back where she was holding the ropes. I tried to reach down, but I could not get my fingers anywhere close to her hand. But when I reached down, Mom slid the rope and took up the slack; I couldn't get my wrists back up. She smiled, "I hope Miss Houdini likes a good challenge!". She finished the knot at the center of my back and brought the last two tails back around to my front, a few inches above my belly button. She put in a knot She told me that with cotton rope it was important not to pull a knot with a sharp bend like a square knot too tight or it would never come out without cutting the rope. She made some other kind of knot instead, and now there were just two short tails hanging down my tummy. Mom took them and turned to Michael, "let's put a bow on it to make her pretty!". Mom tied a nice little bow. She told me that all I had to do to get out was to undo that one little bow knot at the base of my chest, and then everything could be undone. I stared down at the knot that was the key to my freedom, or lack of it.

Now that Mom's ropework was done, she checked me over again. She made sure my wrists were OK. She made sure the rope high around my waist wasn't hurting me or making it hard to breathe. She asked if I thought I could stay like this for a long time. I told her I was fine but it didn't matter since I'd escape just like Houdini. Mom laughed and said "We'll see".

Now a little side story. I sure you've heard of a "captive audience". Well how about a captive storyteller? Now that Mom has me tied up and helpless, I'll tell you a little more about my family, because it is kind of important to understanding my stories. My family was very open and honest about sex. Michael and I knew all about the differences between boys and girls, as can be expected since Mom or Dad always bathed us together when we were preschoolers (and they were OK with our bathing or showering together in elementary school when we chose to do so). We also knew the basics of sex and where babies came from. I had found some books in the library, and Mom and Dad both encouraged us to ask questions and to never be ashamed or afraid to talk about anything. And we knew that sometime soon puberty would be upon us both. Michael looked forward to his voice deepening and to growing more body hair, just like Dad. I sometimes teased him, "and having your penis grow big like Dad's too". It was all good natured. I looked forward to have a curvaceous body like Mom and like my aunts. I wasn't so sure about having my first period, but Mom was always positive and reassuring. And above all else both Michael and I had learned that we could always go to Mom and Dad with anything in the world. Mom didn't take me aside for "girl stuff" and Dad didn't take Michael aside for "guy stuff"; we could always talk about these things with our whole family. A lot of our friends from school were not nearly so fortunate.

But back to the main story...

Mom asked Michael to stand next to me. She looked at my flat, undeveloped chest. My chest and Michael's were almost indistinguishable. She reached out and gave me little love pinches on both my nipples. She told me that she guessed this would probably be the last year that I would still be just a little girl. She said if I was like her and like my aunts, then by this time next year my breasts would be blossoming. I asked her how that made her feel. I don't remember her exact words, but she said that time always moves on, and it was part of life for her beautiful little girl to turn into a beautiful young woman. Then she turned to Michael and told him he'd get some hair on his chest, but it probably wouldn't happen for a few more years. Mom eventually turned out to be right on both her predictions.

Mom saw the silly grin on my face. "You really are liking this, aren't you? This is all fun and games, isn't it." I told her it was the most fun I'd had in a long time. Mom asked if she should untie me right now. I told her "please don't; I want to try the experience".

Then Mom turned to Michael and asked if he'd be willing to take me back upstairs and keep an eye on me. She told him to not let me out of his sight, and if I got into any pain or distress, he should untie me or bring me back down to her immediately. "But otherwise, I think it would be good to keep her from interrupting my work again. I've got a customer coming to pick up a job an hour from now. Then I'll be upstairs to make dinner. As long as our cute little Miss Houdini isn't in distress, give her a full thirty minutes before you let her out." I was so excited I was almost shaking.

Just then we heard the squeaky front door open on the shop. Michael grabbed me and took me with him just out of sight behind the storage shelves, since we were both nearly naked. Mom went to the front to greet her customer. Michael peeked between the gaps in the shelves to watch. Mom mercifully stood toward the front window, so her customer turned his back to us. We made a dash up the stairs to our apartment. Michael had his arm around me to keep me safe, since if I tripped with my hands tied I wouldn't be able to stop myself from falling.

When we got back upstairs, we went right to the couch. The gag and the sleep mask blindfold and my other ropes were still there where I had left them when I discovered Michael was stuck. Michael gave me a very wicked smile and he told me he was feeling really naughty. But he said he wanted to be sure he didn't take things too far for me. I told him to bring it on. He said I was very foolish for saying yes before I knew what I was getting into. I gave him my own wicked smile right back and told him, "Surprise me! Give me everything you were thinking of and more! The naughtier the better! Really surprise me with something so naughty I'd never expect it, and I'll love you forever!" Of course I'd love him forever anyway, just because he was my best friend and the best big brother in the whole world, but that is another story.

Michael told me I should try to escape. He wanted to see if Mom had really found a way to tie me up effectively with one rope like that. I tried really hard. I tried to bring my hands up, but all the ropes were too tight. I tried to pop my head under my elbow, but my arms were bent too tight and I didn't have enough slack to make room. The knot at the center of my chest was way, way out of my reach. The ropes around my wrists were also out of my reach, and there weren't even any knots that I could do anything productive with. I was so stuck!

Michael picked up the gag from the couch. I eagerly opened my mouth as Michael popped the cloth knot in. He wrapped the ends behind my head and put in a half knot, but he realized that with my hands tied behind my head, maybe I could reach the knot a little bit, at least with my thumbs. It was a long cloth, so he brought the ends back to the front again and made a final knot right at my mouth again. That knot pushed the middle knot into my mouth more, so my mouth was really packed. I tried to talk but I could barely even grunt and mew. Michael asked if I was OK. I nodded my yes. He asked it it was choking me at all. I shook my head no.

Then Michael went and got a piece of string. He tied my thumbs together with it, and brought the ends to the far side of the knot that Mom had used to secure my wrists and he tied it off there, far out of my reach. There wasn't much I could have done as it was, but with my thumbs tied together, escape became an even more remote possibility.

He picked up the sleep mask but then he put it back down. "I just thought of something even naughtier. Do you still want to be surprised?" Of course I did. I nodded my enthusiastic "yes". "Even it it's really, really naughty? Naughtier than anything I've ever done to you before?" He was teasing me just with his words. Another even more enthusiastic "yes" nod. After all, between Michael and me, I was the crazy one. I really had no idea what he might do to me, but I was completely sure I'd be safe and it would be in the spirit of our naughty but loving tie up games.

Michael looked at the sleep mask again, like he wasn't sure whether or not to put it on me. I nodded another "yes". He defied me and put it back down on the couch. "Not yet. I think you need to see just what a naughty girl you really are!"

Michael walked me over to the door to Mom and Dad's bedroom and marched me in. I had no idea why. We were certainly allowed to be in their room but we rarely has reason to go there. He brought me over to the door of their closet. The only full length mirror in our apartment was on that door. He stood me in front of the mirror and came up on me from behind and he wrapped his arms around my waist and he hugged me really hard and pressed me very tightly against him. The warm skin of his chest against my bare back felt wonderful. If he was going to do something naughty or mean, this certainly was not it.

Michael released my waist and brought his fingers up to my armpits. With my hands tied back over my head, they were completely exposed to his tickling. And my armpits are very, very sensitive. He gave me just a little tickle and I almost went through the ceiling. Then he slowly ran his fingers up and down my sides, all the way from my armpits right down to my ankles and back up again. There were a few ticklish places along the way. Michael paused with his hands holding my sides while I stared in the mirror at the image of the poor helpless girl, with her hands tied. She was very effectively gagged, and in just her little white cotton panties she was practically naked too.

Michael moved his hands back down to my ankles again and he told me to watch that naughty little girl in the mirror. I watched in the mirror as his hands slid back up me to my armpits, and back down again. On the way back down, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of my panties and quickly pulled them right down to my ankles. I looked at myself in the mirror, now completely naked. "Step out of them," he ordered. I did. Then the exhibitionist streak in me took over. I spread my legs a couple of feet apart and stared again at the naked girl in the mirror. The reality of the situation hit me. I was that naked girl in the mirror. And my hands were tied up so I couldn't dress myself or even cover up with my hands. Everything I had was on display, and it gave me a huge thrill to think about this!

Then he told me I was under arrest and he needed to frisk me. If it wasn't for my gag, I would have laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of this. Of course when an officer makes an arrest, the purpose of frisking the prisoner is to check them for concealed weapons. I was standing absolutely buck naked with my legs apart, unable to conceal my own body or anything else. Still, Michael came up behind me and he put his hands on one of my ankles and started patting down my leg. Another huge thrill for me as the joy of his touch plus the naughtiness of my nakedness swirled around in my head. He worked his way up my leg and stopped about two millimeters short of touching my most sensitive place of all. Then he went to my other ankle and worked his way up my other leg, again stopping just barely short of my most intimate parts. Then he worked from my waist up, touching and patting and squeezing my tummy and chest, along with my tied up arms.

Michael and I were great at both verbal and non-verbal communication in our tie up games. He could tell from the look in my eyes that I was loving his "arrest procedures" beyond my wildest dreams. He came around in front of me and gave my legs a second pat down round while he knelt directly in front of me. This time he used a lighter, more tickling touch. The combination of this and the obvious degree to which he could see everything I had gave me another crazy thrill. He again almost but not quite let his hands reach my most sensitive feminine places. It's probably a good thing I was tied up, considering the feelings I was having.

After he finished his second frisking, Michael stopped this part of my sweet torture and he marched me to our bunk bed, carrying my panties. He put my panties on the end of my bed, laid out ready to put back on. "Just in case we need to get these back on you in a hurry," he told me. I had a feeling I was going to be completely naked for a while.

Michael led me back to the couch. He sat me down on the couch and he had me bend my legs at my knees so my feet were against my butt. He wrapped one of the extra ropes around my right leg, binding my ankle back to my thigh so I couldn't straighten my knee. Then he cinched off the loop behind my knee so I wouldn't be able to pop the rope over my knee to get it off. He then did the same thing to my left leg. He didn't tie my legs together, so I could open or close them, but I couldn't stand up or even kneel or straighten my knees a little bit.

Michael rolled me onto my back on the couch and told me to get comfortable. I tried, but with my legs tied like that it was awkward to keep my knees together. The most comfortable position for me was lying back with my knees wide apart. Of course since I was completely naked, this put all my "girl parts" out there on full display for Michael. Michael and I had been naked together thousands of times before, but I was on particularly explicit display. My exhibitionist fantasies raged, and the naughtiness of me being tied and exposed to a boy added to the thrill for me. Michael told me that lots of the boys at school would die to see me the way I was right now. He told me that a lot of them had never even seen a naked girl. He also told me he was absolutely sure that none of them had ever seen a naked girl as beautiful as me. He bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I wanted to kiss him back, but that was impossible given the ropes and gag I was wearing. Michael had a way of making me feel so beautiful and so loved. My whole family had taught me to be comfortable and happy with my body.

Then Michael told me that he thought I was almost too cute to punish, but it was his sworn duty by the rules of our game. He took my sleep mask and blindfolded me with it. So now I had reached my point of maximum helplessness. My wrists were tied behind my head, my legs were tied with my knees bent, I was gagged and blindfolded, and I was absolutely buck naked. Michael started to handle me more roughly. It was still play roughness; he was very careful to not actually hurt me, but he'd grab me harder and pull me to where he wanted me. So he sat on the couch and pulled me onto his lap face down. He must have been sitting on a couch pillow, because he was up higher than usual, So I was bent in the middle across his lap, with my butt way up in the air. That made it an easy target for spanking and I was completely defenseless. Michael knew I wanted to be teased, and he was a master of that. He gave me little love swats, and a few big, stinging spanks, and a whole lot in between. He spanked me in lots of places, right on my butt cheeks, and on the backs of my thighs. He'd come frightfully close to spanking my most sensitive places of all but never actually hit me there.

I had encouraged Michael to be extra rough and naughty with me, and he was following my orders splendidly. After a great spanking, he rolled me over and picked me up his in arms and squeezed me and put me back down on the couch out of the way of the pillows. Then he climbed on top of me and gave me a fierce tickling on my armpits and my tummy. Then he switched to a very gentle, light tickling style on my tummy. He worked his way up my chest very slowly until his fingers were right at my nipples. "I wonder if Mom was right that this is your last year as a little girl? Do you think your breasts will be like Mom's?" He took my nipples and gave them little love pinches, like Mom had done. I wondered about his question. I always figured my body would fill out like Mom's and like my aunts. I also wondered when it would start happening. My wondering was interrupted by Michael. "When do you start growing into a women, I guess I'll have to be gentler with you. I probably shouldn't do this!" With that he pinched both my nipples hard. I squealed into my gag. Wow, I couldn't believe it. He really was keeping his promise to be naughtier than ever with me. He teased me more, and gave me a couple more pretty good pinches.

And then the sweetness phase started. Michael hugged me and he untied the knot on my gag and unwrapped the cloth and popped it out of my mouth. He untied the string holding my thumbs together and he took off my blindfold. I was lying on my back on the couch, with my legs still splayed out. I looked down. "I guess I'm giving you quite a naked girl show." Then I smiled naughtily at Michael, "do you like what you see?" Michael smiled back at me, "I see the cutest, sweetest little sister I could ever hope for. You are absolutely beautiful in every way." He bent over and gave me a kiss. He really knew how to make me feel beautiful and feel loved.

I thought about how our family was a bit unusual, even in our diverse, immigrant heavy city neighborhood. There was a strong conservative religious influence, and a lot of my girl classmates shared with me what they had been taught. Basically, everyone was taught that naked bodies were dirty and shameful, and sex was dirty and shameful. Girls were taught that boy's bodies were dirty and frightening. And boys were taught that girl's bodies were dirty and frightening. I felt very lucky that my family didn't go along with this. My parents taught us that our bodies were beautiful. They taught us enough about social norms and about what to keep private outside our family to avoid social problems, but in the privacy of our home we all had a lot of freedom.

I looked at Michael again, "A lot of the kids at school go to the church where they teach everyone to feel guilty and be ashamed of their bodies." He looked back at me, "We don't go there. In fact, we don't go to any church. Mom and Dad have taught us a lot about what they believe, but they don't trust churches." I looked back, "so you don't think girl's bodies are dirty? It doesn't make you uncomfortable to see me naked and exposed like this? Or to roughhouse with me when I haven't got any clothes?" Of course it was more of a "what if" question; Michael and I had been naked together thousands of times, starting before we could even remember. Michael knew it was a ridiculous question. He responded with pure sweetness. "Julia, it is the greatest honor in the world to me that you are so completely comfortable with me and you trust me so much. Here you are, naked and tied up, and you are obviously completely comfortable and very happy. And you are the most beautiful little sister I could ever dream of." As I beamed from Michael's sweet words, he gently put his hand on my ankle. He slowly slid it up my leg, lightly touching my calf, then the back of my knee. I closed my eyes with a big smile. His touch became lighter as his fingers made their way up my inner thigh. His light loving touch continued as his fingers gently crossed the sensitive lips of my public area, and continued up across my tummy and chest. Finally, he brought his hand across my shoulder and up my neck to my cheek, where it came to rest. Michael bent down and gave me another gentle kiss on the lips. Then he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up and held me close to him. I don't think there is anything else Michael could have possibly done to make me feel more loved or more beautiful at that magic moment.

I wish that it had lasted forever, but time was running out before Mom would be stopping her work. Michael looked at me and took in how happy I was. He went to the ropes on my legs and undid the knots and freed my legs. Now I was back almost in the condition Mom had left me in with my just wrists tied behind my head, except that Michael had stripped me of my panties.

Michael and I looked into each other's eyes. He asked me if he had gone too far, I assured him that he hadn't, that I loved every second of my treatment, both the rough stuff and the sweet sensual stuff. Of course I was the wilder and crazier of the two of us, by quite a bit. I didn't want anything explicitly sexual to happen with my brother, but I did want to explore things close to the edge. I expected that in a few years I might have a boyfriend, but until that time, Michael was someone I could play with in complete safety, knowing he'd never do anything to hurt me. Michael liked to explore too, but his natural tendency wasn't to go quite so close to the edge. Still, he loves to please, so it isn't too hard to get him to play a little naughtier when that's what I want. And once him a while he would get really spontaneous and go with the excitement of the moment, and that made for some of my most wonderful memories of those years.

Michael hugged me close to him again. I smiled and thanked him for a wonderful play session. My arms were starting to get sore from their position, but I didn't want to complain or ask to be let out. But Michael saw that we were coming up on half an hour, and he wanted to make sure I was safe. Then he hugged me and squeezed me close to him and kissed me, and then he undid the bow knot in the middle of my chest. He slipped the rope loose where it wrapped behind me, and then I could bring my arms back in front of me and he unwound the rope cinching my wrists together and he let me free.

As soon as I was free, I went to "fighting tough little sister" mode. I told Michael that it wasn't fair that he had stripped me naked while he kept his underwear, and I pounced on him pushed him over backwards on the couch and before he had time to react I grabbed his briefs and pulled them down to his ankles and right off of him. I threw them across the room near the bed. Michael sprung back up and wrestled me to the floor on the nice rug in front of the couch. We wrestled and rolled around on the floor together. I was slightly bigger than Michael at this point, and I eventually just barely managed to overpower him. I got him pinned down on his back and I sat straddling him and holding his wrists down. Now that Michael was my prisoner, I switched to "ridiculously over affectionate little sister" mode. I kissed Michael all over his face while I had him pinned down.

We heard Mom's big loud sewing machine turn off. We knew she would be coming upstairs in a few minutes. We stood back up and gave each other one more really close, cuddly naked hug and we squeezed the stuffing out of each other. We grabbed the gag and the extra ropes and stashed them away. Then we went back to the bed and put my sleep mask on my bed and put our underwear back on. We left Mom's new white cotton rope on the couch.

In a few minutes Mom came back upstairs. I was all smiles. I hugged her and kissed her, which she really liked (Mom isn't quite so forward as me, but she is a cuddly and affectionate person too, and so is Dad). She looked at her rope on the couch, and she asked if I had managed to escape. I told her that I tried my best but I couldn't get out, and so Michael tortured me for half an hour before he finally let me out. Mom looked at the expression of pure joy on my face and the way I was almost bouncing off the walls. "I can see you were completely traumatized!" she commented sarcastically. Then she turned to Michael, "Thanks for keeping Julia out of trouble for a while; maybe I should do this more often when I need some peace." I just grinned.

Mom started pulling dinner together, and Dad soon came home. I was in a crazy happy, silly, excited, bouncing off the walls mood all evening. The heat wave didn't let up, so I spent the rest of the day in just my panties, which was fine with my family. I gave everyone lots of extra hugs and kisses that evening. At one point while I was goofing around, I ran around the corner (about the only corner our little apartment had), and I ran smack into Dad. He was used to my being the wild one of the family, and he took it in stride. I guess he was a little bit playful too, because he picked me up over his head and carried me back to our couch and put me down and trapped both my wrists in one of his big strong hands and he tickled me. I really loved this. Dad noticed I was particularly bouncy and bubbly, and he asked what got me in such a good mood. We didn't keep a lot of secrets in my family. I just blurted out a very short version. "Mom tied me up and Michael kept me as his prisoner and he wouldn't let me out." Dad smiled and gave almost the same sarcastic answer as Mom. "I can see that the horrible experience has left you traumatized and withdrawn." Dad paused and looked into my eyes, "You really are my little wild one. You still love your 'Houdini' games, don't you?". I just smiled and nodded my head. Dad scooped me up in his arms and squeezed me really tight. "I'm glad you're so happy. I do hope you'll only play games like this with people who love you as much as Mom and Michael and me. You are very precious to me and I want you to stay safe." Then Dad squeezed me and kissed me and kissed me and squeezed me. When I told you we were a warm, loving, physically affectionate family before, I wasn't kidding.

[Soraka]

I'm going to go a little bit out of time order with my stories now. This actually happened a little before part 5; part 5 all happened in the hot summer season, but this one happened the winter before that.

I suppose not many kids my age ever get to experience being in a straitjacket, but my mother's specialty sewing work gave me a unique opportunity.

One winter afternoon just after I got out of school I was downstairs in Mom's sewing workshop. She was repairing another big canvas party tent that had been damaged when some doofus who had too much to drink shut the tailgate of his pickup truck on one of the tiedown straps and drove off. Fortunately nobody got hurt but the strap was ruined and the tent had a big tear. While Mom was fixing the tear and adding some reinforcing material, she got a phone call. I could only hear her side of the conversation, but I was intrigued.

When Mom got off the phone, she told me about the call. There was this dentist in our city, Dr. Larson* who specialized in providing dental care for difficult special needs kids. [*exact names in this story altered for privacy] One of the things that Dr. Larson used in his practice was a straitjacket. A STRAITJACKET! My eyes grew wide. From all my reading about Houdini in library books, I knew exactly what a straitjacket was. But one used on kids? Mom explained that some kids just couldn't keep still and were dangerous to both the dentist and themselves. He said that this dentist had a straitjacket that was in bad shape; some of the stitching on the straps was coming out and one strap was unraveling. The dentist's assistant was going to bring it in to the shop to have it repaired.

I immediately got this vision in my mind of a stereotypical horror movie evil dentist. I cooked up an image of his assistant too. I pictured a stern older woman with a German accent (or at least a stereotype of a German accent from my watching too many world war II movies). That night I cooked up all kinds of not very nice fantasies of kids being roughly manhandled into a straitjacket and subjected to painful dental procedures. I had some scary dreams. But still the idea kind of excited me in a curious and naughty way.

The next day after school, a cute young woman walked into Mom's shop carrying a good sized canvas duffel bag. I immediately assumed it was some kind of small tent or awning repair. She started talking to my Mom. "I'm Amy Larson. I called you yesterday about having this repaired", she said. I started to wonder. Things weren't adding up.

The woman told her story. "My father and I have been using this for the last few years in our dental office." I quickly realized that Dr. Larson, the dentist must be her father; and she was both his daughter and his dental assistant. I figured she was in her mid twenties more or less. The woman continued, "almost every time we use it, it gets drool and tooth polish and bits of filling material on it, so I end up taking it to the laundromat and running it through one of the big commercial washing machines. That gets it nice and clean, but it also wears it out." My mom nodded and listened. I came over and listened too. I was wondering if I'd get a warning look from Mom to go mind my own business, but I didn't.

The woman unzipped the duffel bag and took it out. Sure enough, it was a real straitjacket, but it was tiny, too small for most adults. The main thing I saw on Mom's work table was a pile of canvas straps and metal buckles. My eyes grew wide again.

I couldn't hold back. "Miss Larson, do you actually put that on little kids?" I asked. Mom gave me a bit of a dirty look, but the woman wasn't bothered at all. "Yes, she said. Almost all of the kids we use it on actually become very comfortable with it. And you can call me Amy. 'Miss Larson' sounds much too formal." She went on to explain that she was trained as both a dental assistant and at working with special needs kids. She said that they would work with the kids and the parents to make a game out of the jacket, and include special treats and rewards. She would tell the kids that it would help them hug themselves and feel good. She was so bright and cute and cheerful and enthusiastic I could easily see how she could charm just about anybody into that jacket.

"Can you show me how it works?" Mom interrupted, "We don't want to take up too much of your time." Amy seemed unconcerned, "I'm in no hurry, and I think your daughter is very curious. Curiosity is a good thing!" She asked me my name, and I told her it was Julia.

Amy held up the jacket. The straps and their buckles hung down. There were twelve in all; six straps that ended in buckles, and six that were just plain canvas straps. She turned it around to show all sides of it to Mom and me. She pointed out a strap that was badly unraveled. Mom said it would have to be replaced. Mom also noted some other stitching that was starting to come apart. Mom said it would take a few days but she could fix it up better than new.

I persisted. "Maybe you should show my Mom how it gets used. You could demonstrate on me!" Mom rolled her eyes. Amy gave me a smile with a twinkle in her eye, "you really are a curious girl!". She said she had plenty of time and she could give a demonstration. She said she didn't have to make it tight, and she could take it off me right away if I found it scary. I told her I wasn't scared of anything, and I wanted her to put it on tight so Mom would really get a good demonstration. Amy giggled a little and looked at my Mom, as if for approval. Mom said that if she had time, it was fine with her to do a demonstration on me. Mom also made one of her little sarcastic remarks, "Maybe I should make another one of these just for her, to keep her out of trouble." All three of us got the giggles.

Amy said that it was almost exactly the right size for me. I told her I wanted to try it and see. She had me hold my arms out and she slipped the sleeves onto my arms. Of course there were no wrist openings; the sleeves were just sewn shut at the end with heavy stitching. She asked me if I really wanted her to buckle it on me. I smiled and told her of course. So she went around behind me and fastened the strap around my waist and pulled it snug. Then she went to the other three straps and fastened them too. Then she came back in front of me and she took the strap at the end of my left sleeve and she fed it through a loop at the front of the jacket, and then put my arm through the loop too. She did the same thing with my right sleeve, so now both my arms were folded in front of me, encased in canvas sleeves, and the sleeves were fed through one more loop of canvas strap. She threaded the ends through two more loops at my sides, and then she went behind me and fastened the straps on my arms together behind my back. I noticed one last strap was hanging down between my legs. Amy reached between my legs from behind and brought the strap behind me. She fastened it to one last buckle at the back of my waist, and she pulled it snug against my crotch.

Amy and Mom saw the huge grin on my face. "I guess I can skip asking if you're OK like that, given that smile on your face," she said. Then she got a mischievous look. "You look like a girl who might try to struggle out of this, so I should probably make it tighter. She put her arms around me and hugged me, which squeezed my arms even tighter to my body. As she squeezed me, she reached behind me and took out all the slack from the straps holding my arms. Then she went behind me and she tightened up all four straps holding the jacket on. Finally she pulled the crotch strap very snug too.

Amy stepped back next to Mom, and the two of them looked at me. I just giggled and joked, "Look at me! I'm a crazy girl in a straitjacket!" I tried to struggle, but I was totally stuck like this. Amy said to Mom, "she's definitely not going to get out of that until we let her out." Mom looked at me. "Let's see your Houdini straitjacket escape!". I struggled for all I was worth. I tugged at the straps. Some of they were frayed and in bad shape, but they held just the same. When I pulled with all my strength, a couple of weak stitches ripped loose, but the other straps quickly took up the force and they held firm. Even though the straitjacket was old and worn and badly in need of Mom's repair skills, I was still stuck and helpless. And of course, as always, this made it very exciting for me. I just had to show Michael.

I ran up the stairs at the back of Mom's shop that went to our little apartment just over the shop. The door was closed, and with no use of my hands I couldn't work the doorknob. So I just kicked at the door and shouted. "Hey Michael, they put your crazy little sister in a straitjacket! Come and see!". I heard Michael bound across the apartment and the door opened. His eyes grew wide as he looked me over, all strapped up in the tattered old canvas jacket. I went back downstairs to the sewing shop and he followed along. We went back and joined Amy. Mom and Amy were both smiling. Mom told Amy that Michael and I loved to play games like this, especially me.

I asked Amy more questions. "Once you get the kids to wear the straitjacket, then what happens?" She explained that she and her father the dentist and the kid's parents would work together to reassure the kid and make sure they were comfortable. She said her father often gave the kids a little bit of nitrous oxide (laughing gas), since it helped them relax and kept them from feeling pain. She said that most of the kids found music to be comforting, so they had a record player in the office and they'd put on whatever music the kid liked the most. She said that a lot of them were scared by the sight of the dental instruments, so they preferred to wear a blindfold. When she said this, Michael took off back upstairs. Amy went on to say that the whole idea was to both fix the kids teeth and to make them feel good about it, so they would never be afraid to come back. There were always rewards and extra treats and hugs.

Michael reappeared with my sleep mask. "I think she would be scared by the dental instruments, so she would need this." He put it on me and carefully smoothed it against my face so I couldn't see a thing. "I'm not scared of anything at all, I replied defiantly." But Michael left me blindfolded, and with my arms all done up in the straitjacket there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I struggled as much as I could against the straitjacket, to no effect. Meanwhile, with me modeling the jacket, Mom and Amy went over all its defects, noting stitching that needed to be redone, a badly frayed strap that needed replacing, and a couple of small tears to be mended. When they were finally done, they let me out. Amy undid the buckle that joined my sleeves behind my back, and she slipped my arms back out of the loops so I could move my arms again. I was still pretty stuck; my hands were covered in heavy canvas in the closed sleeves and I was sure I wouldn't be able to manipulate the buckles behind my back to take off the jacket. Amy continued to release me. She undid the crotch strap, and then she worked her way up the four buckles that kept the jacket on. She slipped the jacket off me. Once I had my hands again I pulled my sleep mask up to my forehead so I could see again.

I was smiling. Amy smiled back at me. "So how did that feel?" I probably didn't even need to answer, but I did, "That was fun! Let's try it on Michael!" Mom interrupted, "I don't want us to take up too much of Miss Larson's time. She probably has other things to get done." Amy's bright smile continued, "It's OK; I don't have anything at all planned today. And please just call me Amy."

Michael wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as me, but he agreed to a demonstration. "Can you teach me how to put it on him?" I asked, somewhat naughtily. Amy immediately agreed. She had me hold the jacket up while Michael slid his arms into the sleeves. She showed me how to properly fasten all the buckles in back and how to tighten the straps up snug. Then we went to the crotch strap. She warned me to be gentle with it. "Boys are very sensitive there. We don't want to hurt Michael." Michael blushed a little bit as I went behind him, reached between his legs, took the strap, and threaded it through the buckle. I took the slack out slowly, stopping when it was just snug. I asked Michael if he was OK and he said he was fine. Finally, Amy showed me how to put Michael's arms through the loop in front and then through the ones at his sides, and then I buckled them together behind his back. I pulled that strap extra tight.

Finally, I finished off Michael by removing the sleep mask from my forehead, putting it on him, and pulling it down over his eyes. Now he was just as helpless as I had been after he blindfolded me. Michael didn't get crazy exited by tie up stuff the way I did (and still do), but it was still fun for him and he was a good sport. I put on a big display of affection, hugging and squeezing and kissing Michael. "Isn't this the best way to keep a great big brother?"

From the look Mom was giving me, I had a sense that I had pushed as far as I should. I worked my way through the six buckles to let Michael out of the straitjacket. I slipped it off his arms and Mom took it from me. Michael took off my sleep mask blindfold and handed it to me. Mom and Amy agreed on a price and a date to complete the repairs. Amy said friendly goodbyes to all three of us and she left the sewing shop.

Michael and I were busy with schoolwork for the next few days, so the straitjacket didn't come up as a topic again. From time to time as I passed through Mom's shop I noted the progress. She had to cut out a lot of old stitches in places that needed repairing. I saw she had prepared a new strong canvas strap to replace the badly frayed one, and she had carefully stitched the end of it so it would last a long time.

Mom finished her repair the day before she had promised completion. Mom ended up having to be in another part of the city the afternoon that Amy was going to pick up the jacket. She asked if Michael and I would wait in the shop for her. Amy would give us a check to pay for the work, and we would give her the jacket. So Mom took off to catch a city bus, while Michael and I started on our homework in the shop.

Our homework was easy and we finished it quickly. I told Michael it would be fun to test out the repaired straitjacket. I told him Amy would get a better idea of just how great Mom's work was if she could see me in it now. Michael knew that his crazy little sister just wanted to get tied up again, but he was happy to accommodate me. Amy's cheerful manner and cuteness made us feel confident that we wouldn't get in trouble for this. So Michael held up the jacket and I slipped my arms into the sleeves. He did up the four buckles behind my back. Then he went over them again to make them extra snug. Then he threaded my arms through the loops and buckled the sleeves behind my back. He pulled those very tight too. Then he came in front of me, wrapped his arms around me, gave me a wonderfully tight, squeezing hug, and reached behind my back and took out another half inch of slack. Wow, this jacket was TIGHT! Finally, he went to the sixth and final strap, the one that hung down between my legs. He reached between my legs, grabbed it, and threaded it into the buckle. Then he got a bit naughtier than he usually did. "Amy said we needed to be careful not to pull this too tight on a boy. But you're not a boy." I stuck out my tongue at him. He pulled the crotch strap up snug. It certainly didn't hurt me, but I could feel it's tight pressure between my legs. Then Michael pulled it even tighter, so I really felt it in my most sensitive places.

Michael didn't bother to go get my sleep mask, and I didn't suggest it. I really wanted to see the look on Amy's face when she first saw me all strapped up and helpless like this. As I was just getting settled in to enjoying my newly found helplessness, the phone rang. Michael answered the phone; it was Amy. She said she had been delayed, but if it was still OK she wanted to come in half an hour to pick up the jacket. Michael told her that would be fine.

Michael turned to me with a naughty grin on his face. "Looks like you're going to be stuck like that for a while, unless you can escape!". Then he got more hesitant, "are you sure you're really OK like that?" I was fine. It was really tight since Michael had tightened every single strap so much, and I can't say I was completely comfortable, but I wasn't in any pain or distress. And I wanted to experience what it would be like to be really helpless for a while.

The old couch where we'd watch TV as little kids while Mom worked was still at the bad of the shop, out of sight of the view from the windows toward the street. Michael brought me back to the couch. He sat me down on it, and he sat down next to me. He put his arms around me and he hugged me and squeezed me, although it didn't make that much difference as the jacket was already squeezing me. Still, I always loved closeness and cuddling. After a few nice cuddly minutes, Michael got back up and told me to make my very best escape attempt. I did, but it was completely useless. Mom had sewn on new fasteners that grabbed the canvas straps more tightly than ever. All the weak spots had been thoroughly reinforced, so nothing was going to rip. My arms were strapped so tight I don't think I could even move them an inch. And every tug and struggle I made pulled that crotch strap up deep between my legs. I liked that feeling.

I probably fought to get out for about fifteen minutes, without the slightest effect at all. Michael had succeeded in making me the most completely helpless that I'd ever been up to that point. When I finally decided it was no use, I flopped back down on the couch again. He joined me, and snuggled up close again. He told me he couldn't believe what a cute little prisoner he had. He held me close and he kissed me. The only thing I could think of even better than being tied up and helpless was being tied up and helpless and subjected to lots of physical affection. I loved every second of it.

Finally, we heard the the shop door open, and Amy called out, "anybody home?". Michael led me back to the front of the shop. Amy certainly had a surprised look on her face when she saw me all buckled into the straitjacket. "Hi Amy, we thought we should show you what a nice job Mom did for you." I started to get the giggles. They were contagious, and Amy started giggling too. Amy started inspecting the straitjacket, looking over all Mom's new straps and new stitching. She turned to Michael, smiling, "did you put this on her?" Michael told her he had. "Well you really did a good job of it. I usually don't put it on someone this tight, but we have a few kids who like it when it really squeezes them. Julia, you seem like one of those squeezable kids!" I smiled and nodded, trying to not have another major giggling outburst. Amy gave Michael the check to pay for the work. He put it into the drawer of Mom's desk. Amy turned to me again, "You're so cute I'd almost like to take you with me like that. But I think your brother and your Mom and Dad would miss you too much. I guess we'd better let you out."

Amy and Michael went to work on releasing the buckles. Amy released my arms while Michael undid the crotch strap. With the two of them working together it only took a minute of so for them to get all six straps undone. I held my arms out in front while Amy slipped the jacket off. She folded it and rolled it up and put it back in the canvas duffel bag she had brought it in. I looked at the clock. I had been strapped up in the straitjacket for a total of about 45 minutes.

My curiosity got the best of me, so I asked a bit of a naughty question, "Amy, have you ever been in a straitjacket?" Michael gave me a bit of a funny look, as though the question was inappropriate. Amy was not bothered. "Lots of times. Sometimes the kids and the parents want to see how it works. Part of what we do to make the kids more comfortable is to show them things before we do anything, so they won't be surprised and scared. If they want a demonstration, my dad puts me into the straitjacket. It's almost too small for me, but not quite." Amy was indeed a petite young woman, not all that much bigger than Michael and me.

"Dad gets me all strapped in, and I make it a point to smile and laugh and have fun with it. That really helps put the kids at ease." I continued with my naughty curious questions, "What's the longest you've ever been in it? And have you ever escaped from it without help?" Michael gave up on the dirty looks, since I was ignoring them. Amy was amused by my curiosity. "As long as it is put on properly, with arms though all the loops and the strap between the legs snug too, it is probably just about impossible to escape from. I've tried a few times, and I've never made any progress at all." I asked again about the longest she had ever been in it. Amy smiled and told a story. "Soon after my dad the dentist had gotten it, we needed to do an hour long procedure on a kid with lots of bad teeth. Dad was worried that an hour would be too long in the straitjacket. In the name of science, I volunteered to try it to find out. After our last patient of the day had left, Dad locked up our dental office and he brought me back to a back room where he had his business office, with a desk and bookshelves and a couple of chairs and a nice couch, way nicer than the ones in the waiting room."

My eyes grew wide as I listened intently. Amy knew I was enjoying her story, and she was a good storyteller. "Some kids are bothered by the dental office sounds, especially the drill but also some of the other sounds too. We have earplugs available for kids who like it quieter, and we also have sound deadening earmuffs that you can wear over your ears like big headphones. Dad brought me a pair of earplugs and told me to put them in. I did, and the office became strangely quiet. I could barely hear the noise of the city traffic outside. Then Dad slipped the straitjacket onto my arms, and he strapped me into it nice and tight. Some of the kids we treat thrash and kick too much, so sometimes we need to put a strap around their legs to hold them to the dental chair. I wasn't in a dental chair, but Dad still got a couple of extra straps and he secured my legs together at my ankles with one of them and he strapped on the other just above my knees. The particular kid we were going to work on preferred to be blindfolded, so Dad blindfolded me too. Finally, I felt him put the sound deadening earmuffs on me. Now I was in almost complete silence and darkness. I couldn't believe how completely helpless I felt. I knew I was safe; Dad is always very gentle and loving with me, so I wasn't scared. He hugged me and asked if I was OK. He would lift up the earmuffs and talk loud so I could hear him. I told him I was fine. He asked if I wanted to go ahead with the experiment. Of course I did! He told me he wasn't going to give me any ideas on how long it had been, so I wouldn't have any idea on the passage of time. He smoothed the blindfold carefully against my face and he made sure the earmuffs were on well too. With the blindfold on, I really couldn't see a thing, but just a faint little trickle of light was coming up the edge by my nose. After a minute, that stopped. Dad must had turned off the light in his office. The office was an interior room with no windows, so it got completely black in there with the lights off."

Amy had a very attentive audience in Michael and me. She was obviously having fun telling her story. "I just flopped back on the couch. There really wasn't a thing I could do. I couldn't move my arms or my hands, and I couldn't move my legs either. I couldn't see or hear a thing. Still, it was a very exciting feeling in a strange way." Amy and I looked each other in the eyes. I think a piece of our spirits connected right there. I knew how she felt about being tied up, and she knew how I felt. "I struggled a bit, but it was absolutely no use. By bending and straightening my legs and shifting my weight, I could just barely switch between sitting and lying on the couch and with some effort I could roll myself over. But that was all. With no sights or sounds I had no idea of the passage of time. It felt like I was strapped up like that for hours. Still, I didn't complain. I was curious as to how it would feel, and also how long could I endure this. Finally, after I had completely lost all sense of time, with almost no warning, I felt Dad's hands on me. He sat me up, took off the earmuffs, and lifted the blindfold up to my forehead. The light was back on in his office. I looked at his wall clock. Exactly sixty two minutes had passed since he had blindfolded me and left me helpless. Dad quickly undid all the straps and let me out. I took out the earplugs."

Wow, that was a great story. One more question from me, "How did this experience make you feel, Amy?" She had a big smile as she told the story, so I had a pretty good idea. "It was fun. It was a little bit scary, especially when I couldn't judge the passage of time. All my life I've worried about keeping schedules and being on time for things. Losing control and having no sense of time was the hardest part. But still, it was fun and exciting too. I knew I'd be safe, and I'm so glad I got to have that experience!" Then Amy asked her own naughty questions. "Julia, I think you would have liked it too. Whose idea was it to put you in the straitjacket when I came to pick it up?" "Mine!" I answered proudly. "I was pretty sure of that. I could tell from the look in your eyes when we put you in it the first time that it was all just fun and games for you." I nodded. Amy went on, "do you two play other tie up games?" Michael looked a bit embarrassed as I told a few of my own stories. I told Amy we had lots of fun tying each other up. I told her I liked to be tied up more than Michael did, but he was a great play partner. Amy asked if we were careful to never hurt each other, especially when we played with ropes. We both assured her we were very careful. I didn't tell her about the times Mom tied me up, and neither did Michael.

We heard the shop door open again. Mom was back. She joined us in her work area. Michael pointed out the payment check that he had carefully put in the drawer. Amy commented on how beautifully the straitjacket was repaired. I joined in. "I had Michael put me in it so Amy could see first hand what a nice job you had done!" Mom rolled her eyes and looked at Amy. "I hope they didn't waste too much of your time." Amy assured her it was fine. She told Mom it was nice to get a demonstration. Mom and Amy exchanged business cards and Amy soon picked up the duffel bag with the straitjacket and went on her way. My excitement for tie up games took quite an upturn that day.

[Soraka]

This part continues right in sequence after parts 4 and 5, in the summer just before Michael and I started sixth grade. Part 6 with the straitjacket was out of sequence with 4, 5, and 7, and happened around 6 months earlier, in the winter.

I won't repeat the story of part 5; you can go back and read it if you missed it, but it was one of the most wonderful tie up experiences I'd had up to that point in my life. Mom had tied me up tightly, supposedly to teach me a lesson about not making knots too tight but really just for fun and as a diversion from the brutal summer heat. After Mom had left, Michael finished me off by stripping me completely naked and giving me a wonderfully playful and loving tickle torture and spanking. Near the end of our play session, while I was still tied up and naked with my legs open, he held me in his arms and kissed me and he gave me a single sweet gentle caress on my most sensitive place of all. It was an incredible moment of pleasure and beauty for me.

So now it was "my turn to get Michael back for tying me up and stripping me naked". In reality, that translated so something like now it was "my responsibility to tie up Michael and give him as thrilling and wonderful and fun experience as he had given me". I took my responsibility very seriously and I put a lot of thought into things I might do to him. This was a bit tricky, since I had to put myself into Michael's way of thinking. For me, the feeling of complete helplessness and loss of control brought me the maximum thrill of all. Lots of touching and skin to skin contact was a close second for me. For Michael, I know he cared much less than me about the "tie up" part, although the naughtiness of it certainly meant something to him. On the other hand, if any person in the world existed who liked the touching and skin contact even more than me, that person would have to be Michael. So with all this in mind, I hatched my plan.

School was out for the summer, and as was often the case in our city, it was hotter than ever. Mom needed Michael and I to help out in her sewing shop in the morning. At least it was relatively cool down there in the morning. I'm more of a tomboy than a girly girl, but to cope with the heat I was wearing a thin little sundress. I was tempted to skip my panties, but Mom did get customers in the shop, and that sundress was sheer enough that it would probably be obvious, so I gave in to social convention. Michael wore gym shorts and a tank top. We both wore flip flops on our feet, and that was it. We worked with Mom in the morning, getting and preparing material she needed for another big tent repair job of hers. After a lunch break, and a little more work for her, she said we could be on our own for the afternoon. So we scampered back up the stairs for "play time". We kicked off our flip-flops at the door and ran around behind the curtain that formed our "bedroom" area in the apartment. I had stashed away all the ropes from the last time Michael had tied me up (see part 5 of my stories for that), and I pulled them out. I pulled my sundress over my head and tossed it on the bed. Michael similarly removed his shirt and gym shorts, leaving us back in our standard hot summer home attire; me in just my panties and Michael in his briefs.

We both knew it was my turn to tie up Michael. He had not experienced the kind of tie up that Mom had used on me yet, but he was about to. He obediently held out his arms as I secured his wrists with my rope. I had him stretch his arms up over his head and bend his elbows to bring his wrists to the back of his neck. I ran the long tails of the rope around his chest. It was a little hard without a helper to hold the rope, but then I got an idea to put another knot in the ropes that hung down from his tied wrists behind his back. This extra knot gave me a nice loop. I wound the long ends around his chest, through the loop in back, and back to the front again. I tied them off securely.

Michael isn't quite as flexible as me, so he couldn't bring his wrists down as far as mine had been. On the other hand, that didn't really matter, since with his limited flexibility, he stood even less chance that I had of finding some way to wriggle out. I had tried pretty hard, and I had failed miserably in my escape attempts. So Michael was completely helpless and at my mercy now, and we both knew it.

Michael knew exactly what was coming next. I pulled his briefs down to his ankles, and ordered him to step out. He's not a big time exhibitionist like me, so I'm sure he felt a little embarrassed, but he did genuinely get some fun and excitement from "naughty things", and for a boy to be stripped completely naked by his little sister was definitely a naughty thing. Being tied up first and then stripped naked made it much naughtier still. To finish him off I took out one more rope and tied his ankles together. Now even the remote possibility of escaping by running away was gone.

The next item in my plan was my tickle torture. I got the cloth gag and popped the knot into Michael's mouth and tied it in place. Then I took my sleep mask blindfold from my bed and slipped that on him and carefully covered his eyes. I gently sat him down on the bottom bunk (my bed). I made every single move of mine as gentle and delicate and loving as I could. Michael was completely comfortable in my hands and I loved that.

I also loved that this left him vulnerable to the element of surprise when I launched my merciless tickle attack. I pounced on Michael and pushed him down onto his back on my bed. With Michael completely naked and blindfolded, I was free to attack at the time and place of my choosing. Michael never even knew what was coming, not that it mattered much as there wasn't a thing he could do to defend himself. Michael's especially ticklish places are his armpits, his ribs, and his tummy. I gave them all my fiercest attack. I've learned to use both light, teasing touches as well as rougher, more aggressive tickling, to maximize the torment of my prisoner.

Of course for someone who loves touch as much as Michael, this was simultaneously pure joy and pure torture. He could only grunt and mew because of the cloth gag that filled his mouth, but he was getting pretty loud. I was glad Mom had her very noisy sewing machine running downstairs. I must have tickle tortured Michael for a good ten minutes or so, and he was a sweaty, exhausted mess when I was done with him. I took off his gag and his blindfold.

He gave me one of his looks, one of those mixed message looks. We were so close we could usually read each other's feelings just from the looks on our faces. Michael's read something like "you really are an absolutely insane little sister, but I love you". That was exactly what I had wanted.

Now that the tickle torture and roughness part was done, I was ready for the next part of my plan. I rolled Michael onto his side on my bed and told him to relax and get comfortable and unwind from his tickle torture. I slipped off my panties and lay down on my side next to him, behind him. I wrapped my arms around Michael and I squeezed him close to me. Complete sensual overload for two people who love the feeling of touching skin. I rubbed my hand on Michael's chest, gently, not tickling this time. I teased him a little and asked when he was going to start growing some hair on his chest. He teased me back and told me that Mom had bet that I would start growing breasts before he started growing chest hair.

I continued to cuddle up against Michael from behind and I slowly caressed his chest. I looked over his shoulder and down at his male equipment. He was beginning to get a bit of an erection. I started to giggle. Now my dilemma. I had Michael all tied up, so I was in charge. I could do whatever I wanted. I was having a particular fascination with boys and how their bodies responded, and I had a reasonably willing prisoner that I could experiment on. I was sure he would forgive me for anything I might do to him, no matter how naughty it was. I certainly would have forgiven anything he did to me. But I also didn't want to get too overtly sexual with my big brother; that just didn't seem quite right.

A favorite TV show was going to start soon, so I had an easy way out without spending too much time deciding what to do next. I told Michael I thought it was really cute to see him excited like this. His face reddened. I took his penis into my hand and gave it one gentle squeeze and caress. Then I went up to the knot at the center of his chest and I released him. It seemed like exactly the right amount of naughtiness to me. I quickly undid Michael's wrists and went over to the TV and turned it on. Michael slipped his briefs back on and he joined me on the couch.

Michael obviously wasn't disturbed by the new height of my naughtiness, nor by the fact that I was still completely naked. We cuddled gently and watched our show. During a commercial break, I heard Mom's loud sewing machine turn off. I decided to go over to my bed and put my panties back on, just in case. Mom wouldn't have been upset at my nakedness, but somehow being a little bit secretive about it made it feel naughtier. I rejoined Michael on the couch, not quite naked anymore. Sure enough, we head the squeaky door open from her shop and Mom headed upstairs. Mom went to her bedroom to get something, then she stopped and told us she needed to head across town for something. She told us to stay out of trouble for the next couple of hours and she headed back downstairs.

As our show concluded, I was desperately hoping Michael would tie me up again. He did not disappoint me. When our TV show ended, he turned off the TV and scooped me up in his arms and carried me back to the bed. I had tucked the ropes and the gag just out of sight behind the bed but we both knew exactly where they were. He threw me down on the bed with pretend roughness and pounced on me and wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me. He told me that what I had done to him had been really naughty, and he was going to get me back for it. I beamed with excitement and I started to giggle again. He got up off me and rolled me over face down and gave me a swat on my panty clad bottom. "We'll see if you're still giggling when I'm done with you", he said, trying to sound stern (and not doing a very good job of it). I giggled even more.

We both realized the benefits of the position we had used for our last pair of tie up games, with the victims wrists tied together behind their head, arms folded at the elbow. Not only was it inescapable, but it left the victim's armpits totally exposed and defenseless against tickling. We had a lot of fun tying each other up that way over the hot summer. Of course it was my turn again to be on the receiving end. I was still face down on the bed. Michael climbed onto me and sat down on my butt, pinning me down to my bed. He ordered me to put my arms up over my head and bend my elbows and put my wrists together. He took the long piece of rope and securely tied my wrists together, leaving two long tails.

The part about keeping the victim's hands behind their head so they couldn't pull them back up over their head was the weakest link in this particular tie. Mom's putting a rope around my chest at the base of my ribs had worked well, but Michael was not an expert at fitting and tying things the way Mom was. My sloppier tie around his chest had worked, mostly because Michael wasn't flexible enough to wriggle out. If I had been tied that way, I probably would have been able to get my head under the crook of my elbow on one side and bring my arms back in front of me. Michael seemed to be aware of this.

Instead of trying to finish tying me the way I had done to him, he reached over and took a shorter piece of rope. He let me up from the bed just enough to slip the rope in front of me around my waist, then he sat back down on my butt and pinned me back down. I was liking the feeling of being pinned under him, trapped between his legs. Michael tied that shorter rope around my waist pretty tightly, like a belt. I knew what he had in mind.

Michael got off of me and he stood me back up, next to my bed. He took the long rope tails hanging down from my wrists and he tucked them under the rope around my waist in back. He pulled on the rope ends to take out all the slack, so I ended up with my wrists stretched way back behind the base of my neck, easily as tightly as Mom had done me up. He put a simple knot in at the waist rope. There were still tails left over so he wrapped then around my waist and time them off in front to keep them out of the way. Then he took the gag and packed the thick cloth knot into my mouth and tied it off. Finally, he took one more short rope and tied my ankles together.

Just in case you had trouble following all this, here is a description of my predicament at this point. My wrists are tied tightly together. My upper arms are pointing straight up, and they are close to my ears. My arms are fully bent at the elbows and my elbows are pointed at the ceiling, on either side of my head. My tied wrists are behind my neck. Another piece of rope is tied around my waist like a very tight belt. The last of the rope is joining my tied wrists to my waist rope, leaving me with my arms straining back and making it completely impossible to lift my wrists up at all. My mouth was gagged with a wide strip of cloth that had been tied into a knot, and the knot was in my mouth tightly behind my teeth. It was tied tight so I couldn't spit it out. The last piece of rope on me was binding my ankles securely together. And, except for my little white cotton panties I was completely naked.

Michael started to take my sleep mask blindfold, but he stopped. He told me my tickle torture would be more of a torture if I could see every touch coming, knowing there wouldn't be a thing I could do to stop him. I kind of wanted to be blindfolded, but he had me gagged too well to discuss the matter. As he started to tickle me, I realized he was right. I'd watch as his fingers would slowly approach my super sensitive armpits. I'd wriggle and squirm but I was defenseless. My ribs and tummy got the same treatment too; visual teasing followed by intense tickling. Then Michael said that I'd been so naughty I needed more than just a tickle torture. He sat down on my bed and pulled me face down across his lap. He tickled me even more and then he started to slip his fingers into the waistband of my panties.

I expected (and hoped) he would strip me naked, but instead he just pulled the back of my panties down just barely enough to expose my bare bottom. Now I knew what he had in mind. WHACK! The spanking began. Michael had told me that he absolutely hated to hit me, but I had managed to convince him to just get into the mood of play acting. I'd play the very naughty little girl that needed to be punished, and he'd play the stern adult giving me the spanking. I convinced him that I really liked to play this naughty, and since it was fun for me, Michael was a good sport and he'd play his role.

Michael was playing his role unusually well. His swats were really direct, and they really stung. He actually made my butt kind of pink. And I was so into playing the naughty girl role that I just wanted more and more. Since I was tied up and gagged, I had no control over the situation at all. I would have to take whatever Michael decided to give me. That made it all even better. I had originally wanted to be naked, but somehow the way I was in my panties just partly down to expose my bare bottom made it feel even naughtier. I got completely into my role. I tried to beg for mercy but the gag completely muffled my pleas. I struggled against the ropes but they wouldn't budge. And Michael kept on spanking me.

It turns out all my struggles actually were having some effect. As I thrashed around and struggled against my ropes in Michael's lap, the rope around my waist began to work it's way up higher. By this time, Michael had switched to going back and forth between spanking and tickling. I thrashed around in his lap like a wild animal but he held me tight and kept up my "punishment". But as the waist rope rode up on me, I was able to bring my wrists up higher and higher. After a few more minutes, there was so much slack that I was able to slip my head under my right elbow, and this let me bring both arms back in front of me, sort of. My wrists were still tied together, and a rope ran from them over my shoulder to the rope that had ridden far up above my waist by this time. Still, I wasn't nearly as completely helpless as I had been just a minute ago.

Michael rolled me over so I was face up in his lap now. We looked into each other's eyes. Michael easily read the look in my eyes. He knew I was loving every second of this and I wanted even more. I looked in his eyes. He had a surprisingly wicked grin on his face. I had a sense he was seriously considering something especially naughty. I gave him a little nod, like "bring it on". His grin became a little bigger as he nodded back. I had no idea what he was going to do to me, but this just added to my excitement.

Michael untied the rope at the back of my waist that still at least partly restricted the movement of my wrists. My wrists were still tied together, but now I could bring my arms back in front of me and stretch them out, which was a bit of welcome relief. He pulled my panties back up to cover my bottom, and he untied my ankles. He didn't untie the tight rope around my waist, but he worked it back down very low, until it rested at the top of my hips and wouldn't go any lower.

Then he went back to sweetness mode. He gently put his arms around me and cuddled me close to him. This was wonderful, but I feared the end of our tie up game was coming soon. Michael asked me if my arms and wrists were OK. I nodded yes. The ropes on my wrists weren't too tight, so that was fine. My arms were getting tired tied off behind my neck like that, but now he was giving them a nice long rest break and they were feeling fine too. He asked me if I had learned my lesson and if I was going to be a good girl now. I shook my head as a defiant "NO!" He gave me his wicked smile again. "I'll give you one last chance. If you're ready to be a good girl I can let you out. But otherwise I think I just might do something naughtier than I've ever done to you before. And you'll be tied up and gagged and helpless with no way to stop me." The naughty grin on his face told me he meant it. I didn't know what was coming, but whatever it was, I wanted it and I wanted it bad. "Last chance to be a good girl?" I shook my head more forcefully and defiantly than before. The new phase of our game was on. And Michael knew what the new rules would be and I didn't.

He stood me back up next to my bed. "I don't think naughty girls need panties, do you?" I shook my head no. He pulled my panties down to my ankles and I stepped out of them. Except for the rope around my waist, the rope that held my wrists together, and my cloth gag, I was completely naked again. "Now let's fix up your arms. Wrists behind your head again!" I stretched my arms up and bend my elbows to bring my wrists behind my head again. He tucked the long rope tails hanging from my wrists through the back of the rope around my waist again.

At this point, aside from the fact that he had taken away my panties, he seemed to be tying me up pretty much the same way as before. I was really hoping for something newer and naughtier, but I had no idea what that might be. I soon found out.

Michael sat on the edge of my bed, as I stood on the floor right next to him. He told me to turn around slowly and show myself to him from all sides. When I turned my back to him, he noted that my bottom was still a little bit pink from the spanking he had given me before. He gave me another little love swat, a gentle, teasing one. I did like being on display. Michael's eyes let me know how much he appreciated my body. I was glad he found me beautiful and glad I could put on a good show for him.

After a couple of turns so Michael could inspect me from the front and back, he had me stop when I was directly facing him. He told me to spread my legs apart. I took a very wide stance, trying to show off as much as I could.

Michael reached his hand out. I thought he was going to touch me, right between my legs, where I was wanting to be touched the most. I had already decided I was going to allow him to do anything he wanted to do with me. I knew he would never hurt me, and I was feeling naughtier and more sexually curious than I had ever felt. Yes, he was my brother, and that gave me at least a little hesitation, but not very much.

To my surprise, Michael's fingers did not touch me. In fact, he reached right between my open legs and took hold of the two rope tails that hung down from the rope around my waist. He hadn't tied them off. He started to pull them down toward the floor. As the rope from my wrists slid underneath my waist rope, I felt the tension on my wrists and arms increase. I was forced to reach them down further behind my neck. Then, still holding the rope ends, Michael brought his hand back between my legs to the front of me.

I stared down in front of me. I looked at the hairless slit between the two soft folds of skin that defined me as female. I also looked about a foot lower, at Michael's hand which held tightly onto the tail ends of the rope. I still had no idea what he was going to do.

"You escaped last time! I can't have naughty little girls escaping on me. I didn't realize that rope around your waist was going to slide up so you could escape. But I thought of a way to fix that!". I listed with wide eyed curiosity. I was just dying to know what he was going to do to me.

Michael brought the rope tails back up to the front of my waist rope, and he tucked them up under it, from behind. The rope tails were plenty long, so they hung down between my legs, reaching almost to my knees.

Very slowly and carefully, Michael slid the ropes tighter to take out the slack. I looked down and watched as the pair of ropes came ever closer to the sensitive slit between my legs. I was starting to get an idea of what he was going to do to me. I was thankful he had selected the smoothest, softest, cleanest piece of white nylon rope that we had in our collection for this special rope. I got more excited anticipating what was about to happen.

When the ropes were just very lightly touching my outer lips, Michael stopped sliding them and he looked directly at me. "I feel really naughty doing this to you! But you've been such a naughty girl that I think maybe I should go ahead with this. Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" I knew exactly where those ropes were going. I nodded "yes". "Do you think you've been naughty enough to deserve this?" I nodded a very enthusiastic "yes". I wanted the full experience!

The ropes had slipped a little bit to the sides, out of place. Michael had to reach in between my legs to center them properly. I really was a naughty girl. I savored the light touch of the ropes and Michael's fingers as he positioned them properly. Then he began to slide the ropes again, even slower and gentler than before. The soft nylon rope slid deeply between my naked, sensitive pussy lips. I was just barely approaching the early edge of puberty, and my curiosity about my body and its sensitive places had grown.

Michael watched my face for any expression of pain or distress as he slowly pulled the ropes up snug. The look on my face was one of pure naughty excitement and curiosity. He pulled the ropes very snug and I felt them intensely between my legs. "You still OK?" he asked me, just to be sure. I nodded enthusiastically.

To my surprise, and my temporary disappointment, Michael slid about six inches of one of the two crotch ropes back through my waist rope, making it slack and loose again and relieving some of the pressure between my legs. But then he chose a spot on the rope, tied a small overhand knot in it to make a small loop directly above my pubic mound, and he pulled it snug again.

Then he actually pulled the pair of ropes even tighter than before, again carefully watching the look on my face for any distress. I had my "crazy tie up fantasy girl lost in her games" look on my face, and he understood it perfectly, so he gave me the full treatment. Once he had the rope all done up tightly again, the little knotted loop stood out, about half way between my waist and the spot at the top of my pubic mound where the ropes emerged from between my lips. The rope tails were very long, so he ran them around behind my back around the wrist ropes, and then back to the front once more. He tied them off in front of me, making that last critical knot in front of me where it would be very far out of my reach.

My legs were still completely free, so I could walk around. Michael told me to explore and see how it felt. Even though I could walk, with my wrists tied behind my head and held down by the rope through my crotch, I felt more stuck and helpless than ever. If I tried to lift my wrists, I tightened the crotch rope. I walked into our parents bedroom to the full length mirror and I took a good look. I saw a cute girl, completely naked and all tied up and gagged, with a rope right through her pussy lips. And I took in the fact that I was that naked helpless girl. This excited me more than I could have imagined. Michael had followed me and he stood behind me and watched what I was seeing in the mirror. "Do you like this?" Another nod of enthusiasm from me.

Michael slipped his index finger into the little loop of rope. He used it to lead me naked around our little apartment. With that tight rope in my sensitive places, even a slight tug drew the rope even deeper between my pussy lips. I had absolutely no choice but to follow him wherever he wanted to take me. Just for the fun of the game, I offered a little bit of resistance. All he had to do was pull that little loop firmly up toward the ceiling to tighten the rope between my legs and bring me back under control. Still holding the loop, he led me back around behind the curtain that formed our sleeping area. He brought me over to the bed and got my sleep mask blindfold. He let go of the rope long enough to blindfold me and to smooth my mask carefully against my face so I would have no chance of peeking.

He gave me another hug, and he squeezed me really close to him. The mixing of sweetness and roughness was one of the things I liked the most about the games we played. Here I stood, naked, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, with a tight rope between my legs, and I was getting hugged and squeezed by my wonderful brother.

After giving me a few minutes to enjoy the soft, gentle closeness, Michael went back to "bad big brother" mode. I couldn't see a thing now, but I could sure feel it when he took hold of that little loop again and gave it a tug, just to get my complete attention. He led me naked all around the apartment again, but this time I was blindfolded too. I had to just go from feel and memory. Any misdirection on my part was quickly corrected by another tug on that rope.

Michael teased me that he was thinking about bringing me downstairs to Mom's shop and putting me on public display in the window. Anyone who passed by on the street would be able to see me all tied up and naked. I'd still be blindfolded so I wouldn't even be able to tell who was looking at me. The thought both mortified me and excited me. I really was totally helpless and under Michael's control now. If he really took me by that little rope loop and led me downstairs, there wouldn't be a thing in the world I could do to stop him. I really was an exhibitionist at heart. Of course Michael didn't actually do this to me. Part of the special magic of our naughty tie up games were that they were our special secret. Mom and Dad knew of some of it, but we certainly didn't share these special details like the way I was tied up right now.

Michael went as far with the tease as to bring me to the apartment door and he told me to slip my flip-flops on. When I wouldn't, he pulled the rope tight with one hand and spanked my bottom hard with the other hand. Needless to say, I slid my feet into my flip-flops. At that point Michael decided he had gone far enough and he had me kick off my flip-flops and he led me back to our bunk bed. He had me sit cross legged on my bed. He took one last piece of rope and tied my ankles together in this cross legged position, so my legs were open. With my legs like this, I felt the crotch rope even more.

He told me it was time for my "Little Miss Houdini Challenge". I had to get out of this by myself without help. Michael stayed right there with me, to make sure I didn't fall out of bed or hurt myself (and I'm sure to enjoy the naked show I was putting on for him). Every so often he'd give me a tickle or a playful little pinch on my tummy or another love swat on my bare bottom. I made sure I put on a good really show for him. I rolled around to let him see me from all sides, and I made sure I spent some time struggling on my back so he could have a really good look at exactly where that rope went. This was a good day for my exhibitionist fantasies.

I really did gave it my best shot and struggled for all I was worth, but I really couldn't get out of this one. My wrists were held securely behind my head by the rope that ran down through my crotch. Every single knot was far out of my reach. And I was very effectively blindfolded and gagged. The harder I struggled, the deeper the crotch rope slid between my lips. It had started out feeling like more of a tease, but after a good struggle it was beginning to get pretty uncomfortable. Still, I took pride in being tough, so I stuck it out and kept up the struggle. Michael left me struggling like that for about ten minutes.

Finally he got concerned about how long he had kept me tied up. He untied my gag and popped it out of my mouth. By this time my arms were getting stiff and sore and the tight rope through my crotch was getting very uncomfortable. Still I didn't complain; I didn't want to give Michael any reason not to play rough and naughty with me in the future. I was willing to put up with a little discomfort in return for having a wonderful brother who was willing to play tie up games with me exactly the way I liked them the most. Michael must have had a sense that I really was getting uncomfortable. He quickly undid the crotchrope and untied my wrists. Now I was free except for the rope on my ankles. I slipped off my sleep mask and rolled onto my back on my bed to untie my ankles myself. With me on my back with my legs tied open, Michael really got a good show. Once I got my ankles untied I just collapsed flat onto my bed on my back with my legs apart. Showing off my body like this was the least I could do to reward him for such a fun game, and I loved the fact that he liked to see me naked.

Michael squeezed me into his arms and we cuddled and wrestled around on my bed for a few minutes. He pinned me down on the bed and gave me a kiss on the lips. Usually I was the one who stole kisses from him, so that was a nice surprise. Once he let me up, we wrestled around more, and this time I got him pinned down. I sat down on him facing his feet and I pulled down his briefs and tossed them away from the bed out of his reach. We wrestled and cuddled even more, now with both of us completely naked. There wasn't anything explicitly sexual going on between us, but we both loved skin to skin touch and we loved the fact that we were doing something that most people considered "inappropriate". A wonderfully fun afterglow to finish up one of my favorite tie up games ever!

[Soraka]

Hi friends, I hope you enjoyed the first seven parts of my story.

This one is kind of a postscript to part 7; I remembered one more game that happened right after that, and I thought you would enjoy it too. If you haven't already read part 7, I suggest you read it first since this one kind of depends on it.

I should mention that Michael and I didn't always take turns tying each other up. Supposedly that was one of the rules of our games, but we often ignored it by mutual agreement. This was especially true in the late summer when this story happened. I was coming up on my eleventh birthday, and Michael was already eleven. I was totally fascinated with experimenting with my feelings and sensations around being tied up really tight and really helpless. So I got to be the much too willing tied up "victim" for a majority of our games. Meanwhile, Michael, like most boys coming up on age twelve was very curious about female anatomy. Unlike most boys his age, he was lucky enough to have a slightly younger sister who loved to play the exhibitionist for him. He always treated me gently and lovingly. He was also very appreciative of my showing off my body, and his interest and affection made me feel really good about myself too.

The crazy tie up game I described in my part 7 story was so exciting and fun for me that I decided I had to just go for the best game ever. I wanted to combine everything I had experienced, plus a little bit more, into the ultimate tie up game experience. I had been preparing for this for a while, and I had all the necessary materials gathered.

I was finding I could easily tolerate the knotted cloth gag I had made before, and my jaw was more flexible (probably from wearing it a lot when we played our games). So I had made a new cloth gag, one with a really big lump of cloth that completely filled my mouth. I had practiced with it in secret and found that I was easily able to tolerate it for half an hour. I had gathered enough lengths of my favorite soft thick nylon rope for my plan. I would need four shorter pieces, plus that one very special long piece that had given me so much fun in part 7. My sleep mask was completely effective as a blindfold, so no improvement were needed there.

I had all this stuff ready for a while before we got a chance to try it. I wanted to be sure we'd have more than an hour of uninterrupted play time. We finally got our chance the next time Mom had to travel across the city for more supplies for her sewing business.

As usual for our city, it was another one of those hot, humid, sticky summer days. As usual for Michael and me on those days, he was wearing nothing but his briefs, and I was naked except for my panties. I've never been a modest person, and nudity at home was common in my family anyhow, so I didn't feel any new need to cover up (and certainly not for my brother and best friend Michael).

The very earliest hint of puberty for me was just appearing. I can't say I had anything that would qualify as breasts yet, but firm, tender lumps had formed under both my nipples and my nipples were just starting to bud out from my chest a little bit. Regarding my new buds, Michael would mostly pretend politely that he didn't notice. Sometimes I made it hard for him to do this; when we were alone and I was feeling mischievous, I'd stand with my bare chest in front of Michael's face and ask if he thought I'd get big rounded breasts like Mom. I'd pinch my nipples and pull them out away from my chest. With the new changes of my budding breasts, they were a lot more tender so I needed to be a little bit careful, but it was still fun to show off. Michael thought it was very naughty but sometimes I'd manage to tease or dare him to the point where he would give me little love pinches on my nipples. I always considered it a major victory when I would eventually succeed in getting my big brother to do something that he initially felt was much too naughty.

But this story is really about the tie up experience I had cooked up for myself, and not my slowly emerging womanhood. So let me tell you about that. I explained my plan to Michael. It was almost all tie up stuff we had done before, but not all combined together exactly this way. He told me it sounded really naughty, but he agreed to go along with it. I could do part of it myself; I could certainly very effectively tie up my legs, gag myself, and blindfold myself (I had done all those things many times in my naughty self experimentation). I was also perfectly capable of putting a crotch rope on myself. But I couldn't do a good job of tying my wrists together behind my back, and there was absolutely no way I'd ever be able to tie my elbows together behind my back. Fortunately, I was very lucky to have a willing play partner who I trusted completely.

I brought Michael to the bunk bed we shared and sat down on the bottom bunk (my bed). I had already laid out all the ropes and things we'd need for my game.

I started with the things I could do to myself. First, I stripped off my panties so I was completely naked. Then I sat down on my bed with my legs fully bent at the knees, so my heels were at my bottom. I used two of the shorter pieces of nylon rope to tie my legs like this so I couldn't straighten them out. I wrapped each rope around my thigh and my shin, and then I cinched off the loops in the middle. I positioned the loops of rope carefully so they wouldn't pinch me or cut into my skin. I made them pretty tight, partly so I really would be helpless and partly to encourage Michael, since I'd need him to put on the ropes that I would not be able to do myself. So now I was naked except for two ropes on my legs. I could open and close my legs, but I couldn't stand up (at least not without undoing those ropes).

Next for the particularly naughty part. I found the center of the extra long, extra thick, extra soft nylon rope and tied it around my waist. I made it nice and tight so it couldn't slip down over my hips. The knot was in front, with two long tails hanging down onto the bed. I brought them through my crotch and tucked them into the back of the waist rope. Then I reached around behind myself and pulled to take up all the slack. The pair of ropes didn't slip nicely into place the way I wanted, so I needed to use my fingers to adjust them a bit so that they slid perfectly into the slit between my very sensitive pussy lips. Once I had them just right, I reached around behind and pulled them very tight, and I put in a simple overhand knot so they couldn't slip back.

Michael was never anywhere close to being as naughty as me, but he did enjoy being a bit of a voyeur, and he watched carefully as his naked little sister carefully positioned the pair of ropes between her legs. I enjoyed putting on a good show for him. I liked it that he found my body cute and interesting and fun to watch.

Now it was going to be Michael's turn to finish up with me. I had done as much as I could do myself with the ropes. I could have easily gagged and blindfolded myself, but I wanted to put those off for later, partly so I could give Michael instructions and partly so I could see what I looked like once I was all tied up. There were two more short ropes left. The first one was for my wrists. I put my hands behind my back, palms together, and Michael carefully placed the ropes around my wrists, cinched them off, and put in a nice tight knot. The next rope was used to secure my elbows together. I've always been very flexible, and I liked trying stuff like gymnastics and dance, so I was easily able to bring my elbows together behind my back. Michael took the last piece of rope and he wrapped it around my arms just above my elbows, and he cinched that one off nice and tight too.

Those last two ropes on my wrists and elbows made all the difference in the world. Without them, I could get the rest of the ropes undone in a minute or two. With them, I was really stuck; there was no way I could get them off without help. I was Michael's prisoner and he could keep me this way for as long as he liked, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

There was one more small detail to attend to. At my instruction, Michael untied the loose knot at my back that held my crotch rope to my waist rope. He attached the crotch rope to my wrists, but he pulled it extra tight before he knotted it off. Now my hands were pinned really tight against my butt. If I tried to move them at all, it just pulled the crotch rope even tighter.

Maximum helplessness had been achieved. All the was left was the blindfold and the gag. Michael was ready to put them on me, but I wanted to see myself in the mirror first. With my legs frogtied like that, there was no way I could walk or even crawl to Mom and Dad's bedroom where the mirror was. Fortunately I'm pretty light and Michael is pretty strong, so he just picked me up in his arms and carried me to their room. He held me up in front of the mirror. There I was all in my naked, bound glory. My legs were open and I stared at the thick rope that buried itself between my sensitive pussy lips. I looked at the tiny breast buds that reminded me I was about to start on the path to womanhood.

After I'd enjoyed a good look (and given Michael a good look too), he carried me back to my bed and put me down. He took my sleep mask blindfold and smoothed it onto my face, putting me into complete darkness. I knew the gag was the last thing. Before he gagged me, I made him promise to keep me tied up like this for a full thirty minutes. Then I got naughtier. I reminded him (not that he needed reminding!) that I was completely naked and defenseless and he could touch me anyplace or do anything he wanted to me and there wouldn't be a thing I could do to stop him. He told me I was really naughty. I asked him to please help me be even naughtier. He decided that was enough and he popped the big new gag into my mouth and tied it tightly into place. No more naughty suggestions from me!

Michael put me face down on my bed and left me to struggle helplessly. Just to remind me I was his prisoner, he gave me a couple of playful swats on my bare bottom. Then he told me I had been really naughty and he pulled me onto his lap and gave me a real spanking, hard enough to actually sting. I instinctively tried to protect myself, but with the tight crotch rope pinning my wrists hard against my bottom,I couldn't move my hands even the tiniest bit.

I had a pretty good idea what Michael would do to me after the spanking; he was fairly predictable, and he liked to please me and play my games the way I liked them to be played. Next in line was sure to be a tickle torture. With my arms tied behind my back, elbows together, he couldn't get to my sensitive armpits. That just left the entire rest of my body naked, exposed, and vulnerable. Since I was blindfolded, I couldn't see where he would attack next, which made it even more exciting. Since I was still face down on Michael's lap, with my legs bent at the knees, the soles of my bare feet got his attention first. He tickled them until I thought I would explode.

Finally, the tickling mercifully stopped. Then I felt Michael untying my gag. He popped it out of my mouth. Michael often took my gag out part way through some of our games. I figured out that it was partly out of concern for my comfort and safety, and partly out of Michael's feelings of guilt when he got especially naughty with me. When I wasn't gagged, and thus free to protest, Michael would almost always take things further. He figured I'd protest if he ever did something I really wasn't OK with. I never protested. This time, I certainly didn't want to end the tie up game, but I was happy enough to have the gag out. For one thing, it was getting uncomfortable. More importantly, now I could communicate with Michael, convince him I was OK, and hopefully take our little game further down new paths I wanted to explore. Also, even without the gag I was still tied up, blindfolded, and completely helpless, and he could pop it right back into my mouth in a second if I got too noisy.

Michael sat me up in his lap and put his arms around me and cuddled me close. He asked me how I was doing. I told him "wonderful". I also asked him to please not let me out yet. He told me not to worry about that; he had no intention of letting me out any time soon.
He lifted me off his lap and onto my bed, and he rolled me over onto my back. Now my bare tummy was defenseless against his light, teasing fingers. He was always good with tickle tortures, but this one stood out. I'm not sure if it more of his tickling style or the fact that I had gotten him to put me into this extremely helpless and exposed position. Being tied up and blindfolded I had lost all sense of time, so I had no idea how long he tickled my tummy.

The tickling started again on my tummy, but he quickly moved up to my ribs. They were almost as sensitive as my tummy and Michael could tell that really light, gentle tickles were having the maximum effect on me. After another good tickling, Michael let his fingers slowly explore my tummy and ribs. He started at the tight rope around my waist and stroked me gently, working his way up. When his fingers reached the lumps of my little breast buds he stopped there and touched them gently. "What have we here? It looks like my little sister isn't going to be a little girl much longer." He hesitated and then he gave me very gentle little love pinches on both my nipples.

I'm sure he was watching my face to see how I would react. I gave him one of my naughtiest smiles. I was definitely in the mood to take our game a little bit further. He asked me if I liked it when he pinched my nipples. I told him I loved it. He said that meant that I was a very naughty little girl. I reminded him that I wasn't going to be a little girl much longer. He asked me if I would still be just as naughty when I turned into a woman. With a smirk I told him I'd be much naughtier. His fingers quickly found their way back to my nipples. I was expecting one more love pinch. But this time he pinched my nipples hard. OUCH! They were at the stage where they were very tender these days, and I really felt that. I almost let out a little yelp.

Before I had entirely recovered from the deliciously naughty and mildly painful surprise pinch, Michael's attention had turned to my legs. I have very soft, sensitive skin on my inner thighs and he was starting to explore my ticklishness there. With my legs tied with bent knees he had complete access to me. He was sitting on my bed right between my knees so I couldn't bring my legs together. My wishes for even more naughtiness did not go unsatisfied. Not only did he tickle my inner thighs, but he also explored coming very close to the rope buried between my pussy lips. He didn't go quite as far as what I'd call touching me in a sexual way, but he came deliciously close with his gentle teasing touches just barely drifting onto the edges of my outer lips.

I really hadn't gone into this game with a clear idea of just how far I wanted it to go. I was definitely getting even more curious and I wanted to explore more. But it would be a long time before I was ready to deal with teenage boy / girl relationships, and I wanted to enjoy the time I had with my wonderful playmate, my best friend, the person I could trust to never hurt me and to always keep my secrets. And I was definitely the naughtier of the two of us. So I doubt there is anything that Michael would have even considered doing to me that day that I would have felt bad about. All in all, I was probably the world's happiest prisoner that afternoon.

Michael took off my sleep mask blindfold and sat on my bed and snuggled me into his lap again. From the look on my face it was obvious to him that I was having a wonderful afternoon. He told me that it seemed like the naughtier our games got, the more I liked them. I admitted that was true. His fingers found their way back to my budding nipples. This time he was very gentle again. He asked me what would happen to our games when we went through puberty. I told him I hoped we'd still play. He asked me if I'd feel differently once my breasts fully developed. I answered him with questions. "We took baths together as far back as we can remember, right?" "Sure", he said. "What parts of my body have I ever been shy about letting you look at or touch?" "None, I guess." "Do you think that would change just because I have breasts or pubic hair?" He didn't have an answer, but he flopped back on his back on my bed and pulled me on top of him and squeezed me close. He gave me a couple more very gentle love swats on my bottom and he squeezed me there too.

By now I had been tied up quite a while. Michael rolled me onto my side and came behind me. He untied the rope at my elbows, and then he undid the knot that attached my wrists to the ropes through my crotch. He gently pulled the ropes back out from their hiding place between my pussy lips, and he untied the knot at my waist. More than half my restraints were off now. I was down to one short piece of rope that tied my wrists together behind my back, plus two more ropes that kept me "frogtied" with my knees bent. Still, just these last three ropes left me very helpless. With my wrists tied and all the knots still out of reach I couldn't escape, and with my legs tied I couldn't run away or go for help.

Michael put me back on my bed on my back. With my legs still tied like that, that only comfortable position was with my legs splayed wide open. The rope through my crotch hadn't exactly done much to cover things, but with it gone I felt more naked and exposed than ever. Michael looked at my privates, I think half out of concern that the rope might have hurt me and half out of normal adolescent curiosity (what boy doesn't want to see what a naked girl looks like?). I was glad he liked to look. Like I've said before, I have quite an exhibitionist streak, and to have a boy appreciate my body like that made me feel beautiful and sexy.

I enjoyed his curious loving gaze on me for a few minutes, until he decided to finish letting me out. He quickly untied my wrists. At this point I could have undone my legs myself, but Michael was kind enough to take care of them too.

Part of our tie up game ritual was to always end with hugging and cuddling. I was still naked, but Michael had never taken his briefs off. I quickly pulled them off him and put my arms around him and squeezed him close to my body. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me back. We probably spent ten minutes in each other's arms, just relaxing and enjoying the moment. Then we realized that Mom would be coming home soon, so we tidied up and hid all our tie up game toys and put our underwear back on.

I hope you liked part 8! Like part 7, this covers one of our rarer, more intimate tie up games. I may not be able to get time to write again for a while, but I do have a different kind of tie up story from a little bit later in my adolescence that you might enjoy. Hopefully I'll be able to write about that one in the next couple of months.

[TheBaconDude]

Thanks for posting these back! I really liked these stories about Julia.