01 - Goofing off
Story index at the bottom
By WKid
Monday, January 20th 2003 - 12:25:00 AM
Goofing off
When I was in grad school a few years ago in Michigan, I had a close, close friend named Lori. She was a short, dralingly cute little redhead whom I'd gone to the Univ. of Mich. with, and we'd dated on and off for a couple years. We were kind of done with that by now, for the most part, but we were very close friends. (We've since parted way, albeit in a friendly manner. She moved to Europe in 1999 and I got married a year later. We talk via email frequently, but I haven't seen her in 3 years)
Anyway, even in grad school when we were both crazy and busy all the time, we were very playful and almost like children. We'd playfight, tease, torment, giggle, goof on each other...everything. One of my favorite pastimes after a while was to make her crazy by talking, calling her little names, yapping on and on - it was very annoying, looking back on it. She would go nuts, yell at me, threaten me, pounce on me... but I loved to goof on her and get her riled up and I'd never stop.
Lori and I shared an apartment together off campus. That's important to know, I guess.
One weekend she was away to see her folks and she told me to make sure to 1) buy plenty of red wine, and 2) thaw out the chicken in our freezer. Her (our, I guess) friends Tracy and Tara were coming over and she was going to make this chicken dish she was someone famous for. I know, you don't need to know that.
Anyway, I forgot to get the wine. And thaw the chicken. And I drove the 90 minutes to northern Ohio to her folks house to pick her up forgetting all about that. But I didn't care - we were in a lull in our schedules and had a few days to take it easy.
I was always attracted to Lori - as I said, we'd dated off and on since college - but had pretty much settled on being her friend and roommate. But when I picked her up and she came out of her folks house in a tight black v-necked t-shirt and tan khakis, I couldn't help notice how good she looked. It was that kind of attraction - I knew how awesome she was. But every once in a while I'd remember how cute and sexy her little 5"2 body was.
So we loaded her stuff into the car (mostly clean laundry) and I had her duffle bag and dropped it. I picked it up and noticed a pair of handcuffs in there. I knew these well - she had run one of those "arrest your friends for charity" auctions and used these as kind of a trademark/symbol thing when she would speak to groups to drum up support, but I was curious why she had them. She said it was a bag she hadn't used in about 2 months and they were just in there. She was telling the truth - the woman had about 30 bags she used for different occasions. We just laughed at the cuffs being in there and took off.
I began teasing here while driving, calling her "Daddy's girl" and making fun of her for bringing her laundry home. It was also in the 60s and we had the windows open, and when she took off her shoes and laid her feet out the window (she had navy blue socks on) I kidded her about foot odor and began to jokingly swerve, claiming I was overwhelmed by her foot odor. "Leave my feet alone - they smell fine," Lori said. Stupid, childish stuff like that.
Lori was tired but amuseed, and called me an obnoxious pig. (she wasn't wrong. I guess) But when the fight over the radio station started - I wanted rock, she wanted dance - she grew tired of me. About 45 minutes from home I flipped the station on her for about the 10th time and she blew up at me, half jokingly.
"Why can't we listen to what I want, ever? You're a brat with no manners," she said.
"Take it easy, Red. Your music is awful - you have to know that," I said.
"James, I'm turning it back. Don't you dare mess with it again," Lori said and turned the station back.
I loved the challenge and reached for it. She grabbed my wrist and laughed. "I'm warning you," Lori said. "If you do...I'll handcuff you. I'll handcuff your hands behind your back for the rest of this trip!"
"Then who would drive?" I asked.
"Oh, I'd drive. And I wouldn't take the cuffs off until we got home. it;d be a citizen's arrest," Lori said.
"Lori, if I didn't have to listen to this terrible music, I'd LET you handcuff me," I said back.
"You mean that? We've got a deal," Lori said and swung her feet back in the car. "A deal? Your music for me handcuffing you? Oh, you are SO on. What, are you going to welch?"
"Hell, no," I said, pulled over to the side of the highway, turned to my station, and put it in park. "Anything to keep that pollution off my radio."
Lori put her shoes back on and got out and went to get the handcuffs out of the front seat. "I've got socks here - if I let you crank the music up, can I gag you too," Lori asked, giggling.
"Shut up and get in the car. We have people coming over," and as I said that, I had a sinking feeling. I'd forgotten to thaw the chicken!
Lori came into the driver's seat, adjusted everything, and turned to me with a nasty little grin and the cuffs. I smiled, shook my head, and placed my wrists together in front of me.
Lori shook her head. "Uh uh. I'm handcuffing your hands BEHIND your back. That way you can't touch, poke, or annoy me in any way."
I obliged, leaning forward and putting my hands behind my back, and Lori cuffed them in place. She then reached over and put my seatbelt on, and then cupped my face in her hand, like you would a baby. "That's my good boy," she said. "Consider yourself in my custody until we get home."
I figured I wouldn't tell her about the chicken and the wine until we got to the apartment. Otherwise, she might now unlock me. She'd take the cuffs off when we pulled in, we'd go inside, and THEN I'd tell her that I ruined her prospective dinner. I would hope she, Tracy, and Tara would understand and we'd get pizza.
We rode home, laughing and stuff, my music playing (Springsteen, the Beatles, Aerosmith) and it felt funny but OK with my hands basically tied behind me. She was in a good, playful mood, and it was one more reminder of how cool Lori was and how much fun we had.
We pulled in to the driveway - it was about 6 p.m. and Tracy and Tara were due over at 7. "OK, take 'em off please," I said and leaned forward.
Lori giggled. "The keys are in my room," she said. "C'mon," and unbuckled me and led me inside. Luckily, no one saw this.
We got inside and Lori sat me down in a chair in the TV room as she kicked her shoes off. I was still cuffed. "Just wait here - I just want to get the stuff out for the chicken, then I'll uncuff you." I had a sick feeling as she went into the kitchen and then let out a whoop. "Lori, listen, we can..."
"You asshole!" she said, coming out of the kitchen and over to where she sat me. "I asked you to do one thing! What is your problem! Trace and Tara love this chicken dish - now I can't make it! You jerk!" and she pushed me back down as I tried to get up.
I apologized and offered to make it up to her as she stood over me with her hands on her hips. I kept saying "I'm sorry" and she just scowled and shook her head and I felt bad. But finally, after about a minute, I looked up at her, leaned a little forward, and said, "Lor...not to change the subject...but could you get the key and get me loose please?"
Lori shooked her head and glared at me, pausing for several seconds. "Wait here - don't move. I don't want you to screw anything else up!" Then she padded upstairs to where our bedrooms were.
She was up there for a little more than a minute and I yelled up, "Don't worry, Lor. I'll take the car, get some pizza...It'll be on me. And you can tell the girls what an ass I am."
Just then Lori came down the stairs, holding a handful of stuff. It looked like she had some belts and a piece of black rope (I recognized that - it can from her camping hear)
"You have the key, right?" I asked.
Lori approached me with the belts and rope and another glare. "No, I don't. I messed up too, Jim. I...oops, I lost the key! Guess you're not going anywhere. Here, let's make you comfy."
I resisted but Lori pushed me back down in the chair and wrapped the belt around my arms, tightening it to a point where I couldn't move. "Don't you dare kick me," she warned and crouched at my feet. Lori took my shoes off - leaving my feet bare - and tied the black rope around my ankles pretty tight. I writhed around but she stood over me and grinned. Then she sat down on my lap and cupped my face in her hand again.
"I'm going to hold you hostage, James, until Tracy, Tara, and I decide what to do to you. "I should have tied you up a long time ago - you are a brat with no manners and no consideration who needs to be taught a lesson. I'm going to teach you one."
I went to say something but Lori put her hand over my mouth.
"Speak only if spoken too, or I'll put you on the floor and put my foot over your mouth. I didn't appreciate the comment about foot odor - you'll get it first hand if you speak without being allowed to. Nod if you understand, prisoner!"
I reluctantly nodded, baffled and amazed by Lori's rapid turn to evil. She tied me up - what was I going to do?
Lori took her hand off my mouth, reminded me of silence again, and went into the kitchen. "I need to work this out. Don't you move, or you'll be very sorry."
I sat there in the chair, bound hand and foot and at Lori's mercy, and waited.
After about 10 minutes, she came back out. "Thanks for forgetting the wine, too", she said. "Get up!"
She got me to my feet. "Hop into the kitchen! Do it!" she yelled, and I hopped my bound feet into the kitchen. Lori pulled a chair from the table and told me to sit in it. I did.
"Don't you move," she said and ran up stairs. She came down a shorttime later with more black rope from here camping set.
"You are not going to move, you are not going to speak," Lori said, and she tied me to the chair with the rope, around my arms and legs/ "Do you understand me?"
I nodded.
"The three of us will decide what should happen to you. When they get here, if you make a peep," Lori paused standing in my face, then looking down at her feet "well, you'll get to see what my socks taste like. And Tara and Tracy will be on my side, so don't even think about it!"
I nodded again, and Lori left the room and went and cranked the stereo loud. I sat in the kitchen, tied to the chair, and basically awaited whatever fate Lori had in store for me.
A while later the doorbell rang and my heart started to race. It was Tara and Tracy! And her I was, bound to a chair by my very pissed off roommate.
I heard them talking (Tara was actually my friend Gary's girlfriend. He was in London for the year, and we were friendly. She was a little taller than Lori with long curly brown hair and a nice figure. Tracy was Lori's good friend - we were all close. She was the tall one, and blonde and athletic. She too was pretty.)
I heard the talking but couldn't make it out. My hands cuffed behind me and the roped holding me to the chair, I tried to think of a way out, but there just wasn't any. My heart raced and the music stopped.
"I can't believe he did that!" Tara said. "I love your chicken. I'm going to kill him."
"Well," Lori said, "You might get your chance. Come with me". And the 3 of them walked into the kitchen. Tara wore a grey v-cut sweater with sleeves above the elbows and red cordouroys and black clogs. Tracy had a white t-shirt with the college's logo on it and warm-ups and white socks. The two burst out laughing when they saw me all tied up.
"You tied him up?" Tara said. "How?"
"Long story - kind of an accident", Lori said, walking to me and sitting on my lap. "So, what do you think of our hostage? Want to keep him?"
"What are you going to do to him?" Tracy asked, walking over, while Tara crouched behind me to inspect the handcuffs.
"That's for all of us to decide - if you ask me, he's had this coming for a long time", Lori said, tousling my hair as she sat on my lap. "He's such a brat - really no manners. This is the last straw. Luckily, I've got him right where I want him, so I'm not going to let him go".
Tracy said, "Let's take him into the other room and decide. More comfortable."
They all agreed. Lori untied me from the chair and Tara helped me up. My hands, feet, and arms were still bound. They hopped me into the same easy chair (not a recliner) and sat me down. Lori again sat on my lap.
Tara kicked her clogs off. She had white socks and sat on the floor against the coach, facing me. Tracy sat on the floor too.
"I think we should make him pay for dinner", Tara said. "And good dinner. Eggplant parmesan from Louie's! They deliver."
"Yeah!" Tracy said. "And dessert, too! He can watch us eat while he's tied up. THEN we'll untie him - only then!"
"Sound OK to you, Goofy?" Lori asked me, then used her hands to nod my head up and down. "Yup. He's good with it. He's got credit cards in his wallet, Trace. Here," Lori said, and reached into my pants pocket and got my wallet. "Go call and order. The menu's in the drawer".
Tracy did and ran into the kitchen.
Tara was crouching, at my bound feet. "Gee, are ya ticklish?" she asked and ran her fingers under my feet.
I yelled out "No!" and Tara kept tickling my feet, wiggling her fingers under the soles and heels. Lori looked amused.
"No? You sure seem ticklish!" Tara teased, wiggling her fingers up to my toes and back down the soles of my feet again. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!"
"Stop it! STOP IT! Please!", I squirmed and Lori then looked at my ribs and gently tickled them.
"Tickle torture!" Lori said. "My, aren't you ticklish," and she dug her fingers into my ribs and stomach as her feet locked me into the chair. Tara continued to tickle my feet and ankles, then my knees.
I was breathing hard and laughing so much that I was gasping. Lori's little fingers continued to flutter over my ribs and under my armpits. "I think we found another way to punish him, Tar. He can't STAND to be tickled! Keep going!"
Tara and Lori's fingers were all over my bound body and feet and I was howling "Ohhhh! D-d-d-d-doon't!!! God-n-n-n-n-n-nooooo. DON'T TICKLE ME, PLEASE!" That's when Tracy came in.
"He's screaming!" she said. "The food will be here in half and hour - I could barely hear the guy on the other end. He's hysterical - are you killing him?"
"Yeah", Tara said, hopping to her feet and sinking her fingers into my chest and upper ribs, "We're tickling him to death".
"That's cruel! And that's torture, isn't it? I mean, you can't tie someone up and tickle him. It's like kidnapping and assault".
"Hardly", Lori said over my pleading yells, stopping the tickling for a second. Then she got up, leaving only Tara and her wiggling fingers to tickle me. "Look how hard he's laughing - if he's suffering, he's also having fun. And he deserves it."
"Tracy, PLEASE get me loose. Untie me! I swear I'll..." and that's when Tara clamped her hand over my mouth and stopped tickling me for a minute.
"We need to shut him up," Tara said. "We only have 30 minutes until the food gets here, and I don't want to waste it! Lori, get something to gag him with!" Tara's hand stayed clamped on my mouth and she sat Indian-style now in my lap.
"Tracy, we'll stop when the food's here, OK?" Lori asked.
Tracy thought for a minute. "We're not hurting him? He's all tied up, and tickling can be such torture."
Tara said, "Trust me, he'll be fine. Now can you please go get a gag before he bites my hand?"
Lori said, "Get a pair of socks from my drawer. Trust us - it's ONLY tickling. He's in agony right now because he's so ticklish, but he'll be fine."
I tried to yell to Tracy to not listen to them, but Tara's hand stayed on my mouth and shut me up. When Tracy turned and went upstairs, I knew I'd had it.
"OK, so you've only got 30 minutes if tickle-torture left, OK?" Tara said.
"Yeah, when the food gets here, we'll stop tickling you," Lori said. "You deserve this, so stop screaming!"
Tracy then came down the stairs with a pair of green argyle knee-socks and handed them to Tara.
Tara said, "My feet are holding him in place. You go around behind him and gag him. Tie both socks around his mouth, OK?"
Tracy did, and next thing I knew I was gagged with Lori's socks. Then Tara and Lori dragged me to the floor and stood over me. I tried to scream but the gag wouldn't let me, and Tara placed her foot on my chest. HER white socks were filthy - this was as close as they'd get, I hoped. (grad students are never clean, you know?)
"25 minutes of tickling hell!" Tara said. "You deserve it. Here we go!" Tara and Lori pounced on me and gave me the most severe tickling I ever got. Tara got behind me at one point, wrapped her feet around me while sitting me up, and tickled my ribs in rapid fire motion from behind. Lori heled my feet while Tara did this and tickled my hips and legs. After a while Tracy joined in and tickled my ribs. I was a quivering mass of giggly nerves and was laughing almost out of control under the socks.
"You need to grow up," Lori said. "I hope we don't have to tickle you like this again. But you deserve it!"
Finally Lori stopped tickling me and got up, and Tracy did the same. Tara stayed, wiggling her fingers under my neck and then tickling my feet some more while sitting on me. I was exhausted and panting
"Whew!" Tara said, "now I AM exhausted. I sure worked an appetite. Did you like that, Jim?"
I violently shook my head while Tara stayed on top of me. "I LOVE tickle torturing people," she said. "Should I take his gag off?" she asked Lori.
"Yeah, go ahead," Lori said, waiting at the window for the delivery car. "Then put him on the couch and put a blanket over him so the guy won't see he's tied up when he gets here. We'll untie him when we're done."
"Maybe," Tracy said. Now SHE was enjoying this.
"Yeah, maybe," Tara said, still on top of me as she slid the socks out of my mouth. "You better not make one wrong move, though. Or we'll keep you tied up and tickle you all...over...again!"
Tara got to her feet, helped me up, and laid me on the couch, still bound. She put a blanket over me and then sat down on top of me.
"The guy's here," Lori said as a car pulled up. "Everyone be cool."
"Oh, too bad," Tara said, gritting her teeth and looking down at me with an evil grin. "And I wanted to tickle you some more!" As she said "tickle," she threw her hands into my ribs through the blanket again and I almost screamed. But Tara handgagged me again, placed a finger to her lips until I was calm, then took it off and sat in the chair where the torture started, grinning at me the whole time. "Remember - quiet," she whispered.
The food was dropped off and I was left tied up on the couch while they ate. When they finished, I was untied and brought to my room and told to go to sleep. I did. Was it over? I hoped so. I had never imagined three women were capable of such torture.
But was it over? Who knew?
WKid
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WKid's stories
- 01 - Goofing off (F/M, FFF/M)
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