by tjlake » Tue Sep 15, 2015 9:18 pm
Although this is a story about my college years, the first time that I ever thought about bondage was long before that. My next door neighbor had invited me over to his house, and even though he was a few years younger than I was, I went over, because he told me he was going to show me some of his dad’s adult magazines.
I knew that his parents were divorced, and I was aware that his father had moved away, but he had apparently left some of his magazines behind. They were mostly of the Playboy and Penthouse variety, so there was very little content pertaining to people being tied up.
But as we were looking through the readers’ letters section in one of the magazines, my neighbor made a point of showing me this one particular letter about a woman who was regularly hogtying her husband, after dressing him in female underclothing and a miniskirt.
At the time, I’d never heard of anything like that, so the letter came as quite a shock to me, particularly since dressing him and hogtying him wasn’t all that she was doing to her husband. As he lay there hogtied and squirming on the bedroom floor, she would allow him to look up at her and watch, as she leisurely dressed herself in seductive lingerie and a revealingly short skirt.
She would take her time putting on each piece of underwear, and once she was finished dressing, she would model her provocative outfit for him for several minutes, teasing him about how she was wearing panties and a miniskirt that were similar to what he was wearing.
Finally, she would drag him inside their bedroom closet and ask him if he didn’t mind amusing himself in the closet, while she went out to some nightclubs with her girlfriends. He would try to tell her that he didn’t want to stay in the closet, and he certainly didn’t want her going out to nightclubs wearing such a skimpy, provocative outfit, but she would point out to him that he really didn’t have anything to say about it, since he was going to spend the next several hours hogtied in their bedroom closet, whether he wanted to or not.
Her girlfriends were all dressing in similar attire, she would tell him, further explaining that one of her girlfriends had gotten the idea that they should all wear miniskirts and go out, not only to nightclubs, but also to a few men’s clubs as well, to possibly participate in “Amateur Night” stripping contests.
He would try to forbid his wife from doing that, but she would shut him up by securing several strips of wide tape over his mouth, after which she would turn off the closet light and lock the closet door.
“Now I’m going out to have some fun…..I’m going to find out if other men think I’m sexy….” she would tell him, and he would have to lay there on the floor of the totally dark closet, hogtied and squirming helplessly, as he wondered if his wife had really gone to men’s clubs with her girlfriends, to participate in “Amateur Night” stripping contests.
The letter was lengthy and full of interesting details, and when I finally finished reading, I found out that my neighbor had an ulterior motive in showing me that particular letter, because he started telling me that he wanted me to go to his mother’s room with him, so that he could tie me up.
I immediately said “No way!”, but he was pretty insistent as he tried to talk me into it, explaining to me that he tied up boys in his mother’s room all the time. What I found even more shocking, though, was his ensuing revelation that his mother didn’t mind at all that he was dressing other neighborhood boys in her underwear and tying them up. He also told me that his older sister Carmen tied up all of her girlfriends, and their mother knew about that, too.
That really caught my attention, because since I was a couple of years older than he was, I was only a year younger than Carmen. At the time, I had a big crush on Carmen, and I thought that she sort of liked me, so when he told me that Carmen was regularly tying up her girlfriends, my curiosity was stoked, so I began to question him for more details about his sister.
But instead of telling me more about Carmen, he kept telling me that I should go to his mother’s room with him, so that he could tie me up, all the while acting as if it was no big deal at all. Nonetheless, I had an eerie suspicion that he was very slyly trying to lure me into some kind of a bondage trap.
So I kept insisting that I didn’t want to be tied up, and I never did go back to his house after that, because I had a really uneasy feeling about what he planned to do with me in his mother’s bedroom.
Over the next year, I would hear interesting stories, however, about him tying up other neighborhood boys, some of them younger than him, and some of them older. And I also heard quite a lot about his sister Carmen tying up her girlfriends, although I suppose those details would probably be best suited for a different section of this forum.
In any case, it was after reading about that woman and her husband that I began to occasionally wonder what it would be like to be dressed in women’s underwear and a miniskirt, while I was hogtied with my mouth taped shut. I was definitely curious, except that in my fantasy, I wanted to be tied up and gagged by one of the neighborhood girls, and not by the boy next door, who as I said, happened to be a couple of years younger than me.
He kept trying to talk me into it, though, and on a couple of occasions, my urge nearly got the better of me, to the point that I almost accepted my neighbor’s invitation to go to his house when his mother and sister were supposedly going to be out for the day.
But on each occasion, I would back out at the last minute, mostly because his mother and his sister Carmen both seemed to have quite a favorable impression of me, and I was worried about what they might think, or how they would react, if either or both of them were to unexpectedly return home and catch the two of us engaging in a private bondage encounter in his mother’s bedroom. I could just picture myself trying to explain to his mother, or even worse, to his sister Carmen, why I had allowed myself to be dressed up like a girl and tied up.
A few years later, I was at a summer camp where I once again heard about boys being tied up, only this time, it was happening during the nightly game of “Capture the Flag”. There was this one really rough boy at the camp, who would hide in a remote section of the playing area, and if another boy happened by, the overly aggressive camp boy would ambush the unsuspecting boy and tie him up. There were a lot of stories going around the camp, mostly about the boy tying up and tormenting younger victims in a remote wooded area, while all the other boys were playing “Capture the Flag” in the main area of the woods.
But there were anecdotes and whispers about one of the older boys, who happened to find himself tied up and victimized by the camp roughneck, the roughneck who liked to use rope and strict tie-ups to dominate other boys.
Just prior to my starting High School, there were stories swirling around our neighborhood, regarding a girl my age named Roxanne, who was tying up an older boy on a regular basis. Roxanne was a cute but quiet girl, and what made her especially interesting to me was that she wasn’t just tying the boy, but she was supposedly gagging him with articles of her clothing, such as a dirty sock, or a pair of her used panties.
Roxanne had a couple of good friends who were at her house a lot, and according to Roxanne’s girlfriends, the older boy was really embarrassed about being tied up. But I guess he sort of got hooked on it, because he kept going back to Roxanne’s house and allowing her to tie him up and gag him. And after the first few times, Roxanne started to let her two girlfriends look in on him, while he was gagged and hogtied on the floor. They would allegedly stand there over him for quite a long time, talking to him and about him, just to further embarrass him.
In any case, it was after hearing those things about Roxanne that I began to think not just about having my mouth taped, but about being gagged with a pair of panties.
When I went off to college, I was one of the more popular guys at school, so I was dating a lot of different girls. For the first two years, I wasn’t thinking too much about people being tied up, but that changed when, during my third year at college, I got to actually witness bondage for the very first time.
My roommate’s girlfriend was a first year student named Jodie, and the two of them were kind of immature, so they were always wrestling around and trying to tickle each other. But I quickly realized that Jodie wanted very much to have me there, in order to add to the excitement, because most days, she seemed to be waiting for me to arrive at our dorm room, and she would immediately start to flirt with me.
Clearly, Jodie was doing that to make my roommate jealous, and as soon as she would get him all flustered and riled up, Jodie would be the one who would initiate the “tickle fight”, as she liked to refer to it.
But it never turned out well for Jodie, because each time, Jodie would stoke my roommate’s jealousy to the point that he would become quite upset with both her and with me. He would try to act like he wasn’t irritated, but then during their ensuing tickle fight, he would take out his built up jealousy by getting overly rough with Jodie, which might be what she wanted, at least it sure seemed that way to me. And somewhere along the way, he decided to further embarrass Jodie by stripping her down to her underwear.
“You seem to like him so much, then you might as well strip for him….” My roommate would tell Jodie in a reference to me, and it would make me a little uncomfortable, because I knew that he was deliberately roughing Jodie up and then stripping her because he didn’t like the way that Jodie was flirting with me every day.
But he definitely seemed to want to embarrass her by undressing her in front of me, which was why he came up with the idea that they should have “strip wrestling” matches, where each time someone got pinned or gave up, the winner got to remove one piece of the loser’s clothing. So he would keep pinning Jodie or making her surrender to him, which meant that he would keep peeling away one piece of Jodie’s clothing after another, until she was stripped all the way down to her panties and bra. At that point, he would declare himself the winner of their wrestling match, and he would proceed to give Jodie a prolonged tickling.
She would of course try her best to stop him from tickling her, but then one night after the wrestling action, he was holding both of Jodie’s wrists behind her back, and I guess you could say that Jodie was asking for it, because she began to warn him that he better not try to tie her wrists behind her back.
“You’d better not …… I mean it!” she told him several times, but she had a slight giggle in her voice, as if she sort of wanted him to do it. I couldn’t believe that Jodie was egging him on and encouraging him the way that she was, but that’s exactly what she seemed to be doing.
And sure enough, my roommate decided to go ahead and tie her wrists behind her back, so that he was then able to tickle her, without her being able to offer any resistance at all.
That was how I came to witness bondage for the first time, between my roommate and his girlfriend Jodie. Growing up, I’d heard stories about it, and I’d thought about it, but I’d never actually seen it first hand, not until my third year of college.
The first day that my roommate tied Jodie’s wrists, he asked me if he could borrow a terry cloth belt from one of my bathrobes, and after I retrieved it and handed it to him, he proceeded to use the cloth belt to tie his girlfriend’s wrists behind her back.
During the week that followed, he continued to bind Jodie’s wrists, a little tighter each time, but he was no longer asking me if he could use my belt. Instead, he would gruffly tell me to “get your belt so I can tie her wrists….”.
I was a little put off by the way he seemed to be bossing me, and Jodie would add to the drama by pleading with me in an anxious yet somewhat playful tone of voice, not to get him the cloth belt.
“Don’t let him tie me up!” she would squeal, but each day, I would get the belt for him, I guess because now that my roommate had developed the urge to strip Jodie and to tie her wrists, I was concerned that if I defied his request, he might decide to turn his new found roping talents towards me. And I suppose that I was aware of the fact that he was becoming increasingly upset with both Jodie and me, over the way that Jodie was continuing to flirt with me each day, before she would start the daily tickle fight with him.
So yes, I would get him the belt, when he instructed me to. But after a week of tying Jodie with my terry cloth belt, he didn’t need the belt anymore anyway, because he decided that he wanted to tie Jodie’s wrists even tighter. So he went out and procured a couple of strips of strong, sturdy rope, one of which he began to use to tie Jodie’s wrists behind her back.
“You need to be taught a lesson for being such a flirt …. So I’m going to tie your wrists extra tight….” he would tell her, which once again made clear to me that he wasn’t happy about the way that Jodie was playing around with me every day.
But Jodie continued to go out of her way to make him jealous, by flirting with me each day before their tickle fight. So I figured that Jodie wanted to get him riled up and angry, in order to provoke him into getting overly rough with her, first as he stripped her, and then as he tied her wrists behind her back extra tight.
Needless to say, it was difficult for me to study each evening, particularly since Jodie was one of those girls who was blessed with a perfect female figure, a figure that would turn heads whether she was wearing a pair of her blue jeans or one of the skimpy sport skirts that she also liked to wear. And when she was stripped all the way down to her panties and bra, her athletically toned physique looked especially tempting. She had really well developed legs and a perky bottom, but she also had quite a bit of female muscle mixed in, so it was really a distraction for me, as I would watch Jodie squirming around on the bed in her underwear, with her wrists bound tightly behind her back, while she was being given a full body tickling. My roommate really did give her a good working over every time that he tickled her.
But it gradually became abundantly clear to me that Jodie was an attention-seeker and exhibitionist, an uninhibited girl who seemed to truly enjoy being tied up, the tighter the better. I say that about Jodie, because even though she knew that she was going to end up stripped and bound, she would continue to flirt with me every day, right in front of my roommate. And after she would inflame her boyfriend’s male emotions, Jodie would be the one who would initiate the daily tickle fight.
So it sure seemed as if Jodie was not only asking for it, but she was intentionally trying to stoke her boyfriend’s jealousy, in order to provoke him into roughing her up.
Which he did, every day, He would take out his aggression on Jodie, and even though she would complain about how she hated having her wrists tightly secured behind her back, she seemed to want him to do not just that, but more. She began to talk about how humiliating it would be if my roommate were to tie her ankles together as well, something that my roommate didn’t do, despite Jodie’s repeated hints to him that he should tie more than just her wrists.
But she kept bringing up the topic, and she even began to talk about how awful it would be if he were to tie her ankles to her wrists. So Jodie was definitely trying to talk him into immobilizing her in a full blown hogtie.
Something else that Jodie continued to do was to plead with me to come to her rescue, which only seemed to provoke her boyfriend into tying her wrists a little bit tighter. “Don’t let him tie me up again …. Stop him….” she would tell me, and it was becoming increasingly clear to me that she was trying to pit me against my roommate.
But I never did intervene, partly because I guess I wanted to see Jodie stripped and tickled, and partly because I was worried that If I tried to help Jodie, my roommate might decide to take his anger out on me, and finally get back at me, over the way that Jodie was repeatedly using me to make him jealous.
So I was worried that if I tried to help Jodie, then I might be the one who would end up stripped and bound, with my wrists tied behind my back. I figured that my roommate would probably like nothing better than to totally discredit me once and for all in front of Jodie, which I definitely didn’t want, because Jodie seemed to have a really high opinion of me.
Nor did I want to get tied up and set that kind of a precedent, since my roommate and I spent quite a bit of time alone together in our dorm room. So if he stripped me and tied my wrists behind my back a first time, he might very well be inclined to do it more and more often, in order to indulge his ever increasing craving for bondage, at those times when his girlfriend Jodie wasn’t available to satisfy his urges.
Fortunately for me, at that particular time, my roommate was far more interested in tying and tickling Jodie, which was becoming a full blown obsession with him. First, Jodie would provoke his jealousy, then she would initiate their strip wrestling battle, during which he would strip away her clothing, piece by piece.
When it came time to tie her wrists, he got to where he could tie them behind her back not just very quickly, but quite tightly, and with considerable expertise.
But Jodie always put up a really good fight, and the more that she wrestled against my roommate, the better she seemed to get at it. In fact, Jodie was so athletic, and over time, she herself was becoming so good at wrestling, that I began to find myself believing that I would almost certainly lose to Jodie, if she were ever to challenge me to a ”strip wrestling” match.
And Jodie did in fact challenge me to a match, during the second semester of that school year, on one of the weekends when my roommate went home by himself to visit his family. Jodie stopped by the room, and with her boyfriend out of town, she was bored and was clearly looking to have some fun while my roommate was away, because she began to flirt with me, even more than she normally did.
Only this time, unlike every other occasion that she played around with me, Jodie and I were alone in my dorm room. It was just the two of us, and this time, Jodie was much more frisky and enticing than she had ever before been with me.
First, she was just touching me, and asking me if I wanted to “fool around”, but then she started asking me if I wanted to sit on the couch and kiss a little bit.
Shortly after that, I guess you could say that she propositioned me, playfully asking if I wanted to take my roommate’s place and have a “strip wrestling” match against her, where the loser would be stripped, and would then get tied up and tickled by the winner.
“Let’s you and me have a tickle fight, so we can find out if I’m stronger than you are…..I want to see if I can pin you and make you give up to me…..” she taunted in a teasing but confident tone, and I suppose she had good reason to be confident, because Jodie knew that I spent all my time studying, and was not at all into sports like my roommate was. So even though I was by far the most mature and the most intelligent of the three of us, I could see that Jodie was now seriously considering the possibility that she and my roommate were both quite a bit more athletic than I was.
And for the first time, Jodie seemed to be seriously contemplating the ramifications of her possibly being stronger and more athletic than me. She really did want to find out if she could outwrestle me and tie me up, she told me, pointing out that I didn’t look anywhere near as tough as her boyfriend was, so she was looking forward to wrestling against someone that she could overpower and dominate, just like her boyfriend regularly overpowered and dominated her.
Having a “tickle fight” with me might just turn out to be a lot of fun for her, she told me, adding that it might take our relationship to a new level.
In my mind, what Jodie was proposing seemed as if she and I would most definitely be cheating on her boyfriend, but Jodie seemed to be raring to go, more than eager to have a secret wrestling date behind my roommate’s back, while he was away for the weekend.
For my part, the thought of stripping Jodie and tying her up was extremely tempting to me, after having watched my roommate do it to Jodie for months. But I also couldn’t shake the concern that Jodie might very well overpower me, and in that circumstance, then I would be the one who would end up being tied up and tickled against my will.
Most importantly, I found myself wondering what my roommate might do, if he were to find out that Jodie and I had engaged in a private tickling date while he was out of town, an intimate encounter where one of us, either Jodie or I, had ended up stripped, bound, and tickled.
And I couldn’t help but wonder how the outcome of our illicit encounter would affect the dynamics of the ongoing relationship between my roommate, his girlfriend Jodie, and me. Considering that my roommate was continually jealous over the way that Jodie flirted with me, I could only guess as to how he might react if he found out that Jodie and I had secretly had our own private wrestling date, behind his back, while he was away for the weekend.
But I was thinking that he would probably respond one way, if I were to triumph over Jodie. And then I could imagine that he would have a totally different reaction, if I were the one who ended up stripped and with my wrists tied behind my back.
When Jodie walked right up to me and repeated her challenge to me, I remember that my mouth got very dry, as I was suddenly overcome with an eerie feeling of both excitement and apprehension.
Tjlake : My College Years (F/M)
Moderator: Archiver
In my initial post, I was describing the events of my third year in college, when my roommate and his girlfriend Jodie were having daily “strip wrestling” contests, which always ended with Jodie being stripped down to her underwear. My roommate would then tie Jodie’s wrists behind her back, after which he would tickle Jodie for an extended period.
But then one weekend when my roommate went home to visit his family, Jodie came by the dorm room and asked me if I wanted to take my roommate’s place, and have a “tickle fight”, which is what Jodie always called it.
“Come on .... let’s see if you can tie my wrists behind my back …. I don’t think you can….” she taunted, then she went and found my roommate’s two strips of rope, the two strips that he’d procured earlier in the year to use on Jodie.
At that point, Jodie confessed to me something that I already suspected, which was that she had always liked me, even more than she liked her boyfriend. But she also assured me that if she and I had our own private tickling date, my roommate wouldn’t need to know, and it could be our “little secret”, something that Jodie and I could do whenever her boyfriend went out of town.
And as if things weren’t already moving fast enough in that dorm room, Jodie retrieved the cloth belts from my two bathrobes, and she dared me to try to tie her down on my bed. All her boyfriend ever did was tie her wrists behind her back, which was kind of “boring”, or so Jodie told me, but she added that if I turned out to be stronger than she was, I could tie her in a way which would, according to her, be “more exciting”. I could use the two strips of rope to tie her wrists to opposite upper bedposts, and I could utilize the two cloth belts to tie her ankles to the lower bedposts.
She would then be immobilized in a face-down position on my bed, with her legs spread open, which should make it easier for me to tickle her. I could do whatever I wanted to her, and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop me, at least that’s what Jodie was now telling me.
But Jodie went on to show me that she had a few dominant ideas of her own, when she informed me that if she were able to overpower me, then she might tie me on my bed, facing upwards, with my wrists and ankles stretched all the way out and tied to the bed’s four corners.
“…..That way, you’ll be spread all the way out for me, and you won’t be able to stop me, while I sit myself on your lap and tickle your sides and armpits…….” Jodie noted, and it was then that she asked me if I’d ever been gagged, which kind of caught me off guard, because I’d never heard either Jodie or my roommate talk about that subject before.
In any case, I responded that no, of course I’d never been gagged, nor had I ever been tied up, for that matter. I saw an opening, however, to inform Jodie that if she made too much noise while I was tickling her, I would have to gag her with her panties. She followed my lead and came right back, telling me that I was the one who would end up being gagged, with her panties.
The excitement in that room was building, and it seemed certain that Jodie and I were going to have our first wrestling date, because both of us were breathing hard and repeatedly touching one another as we were talking. But then Jodie playfully warned me that she might decide to keep me tied up and gagged for most of the weekend, and I guess that was when I first realized that maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
I say that, because after watching my roommate and Jodie playing their bondage games for the prior several months, I was well aware that Jodie was a girl who truly enjoyed being tied up, the tighter the better. So I believed that if she were able to turn the tables on me, she just might decide to keep me bound and gagged for most of the weekend, as she was now threatening to do. And she would probably tie me a bit more tightly and a bit more uncomfortably than I wanted to be tied.
So I abruptly told Jodie that I was having second thoughts, which evoked a spirited response from her.
“Come on ..... you know you want to try to strip me and tie me down to the bed, so you can lay on top of me and tickle me, and have your way with me…..” she teased, and she was right. I really did want to strip her down to her underwear and then tie her up, in the way that she had described to me, face down and spreadeagle on the bed, with her wrists secured to the upper bedposts, and with her legs spread wide and her ankles tied to opposite lower bedposts. That would have been a lot of fun, laying on top of her and tickling her, especially if she were stripped down to her panties and bra.
But I guess that I was worried that Jodie really was stronger than I was, which at the time, I genuinely believed that she was. After all, I’d watched her wrestling against my roommate often enough to know that Jodie was not only extremely athletic, but more importantly, she had over the past several months become a skilled and aggressive wrestler.
So yes, in the end, I did in fact decline Jodie’s challenge, I suppose because I was just too nervous about the possible consequences, if I were to lose a tickling contest to this girl. In the coming months, my roommate was planning a number of weekend trips home to visit his family, so if Jodie had overpowered me and tied me up, there was a good chance that she would show up at my dorm room and insist on tying me up for an extended tickling session, every time that my roommate went out of town.
It would be the following year, during my fourth year of college, that Jodie and I would finally have a series of weekend bondage encounters in my dorm room, where we would in fact end up getting caught in a compromising situation by a group of female students, all of whom were stunned by what Jodie and I were doing in my dorm room. And eventually, my roommate would return to the dorm unexpectedly on a Saturday evening, and he would walk in on Jodie and me, while the two of us were engaged in a rather intense tickling session. But I suppose I should save those particulars for another time.
For now, let’s just say that it was during my third year of school that my imagination kicked into high gear, thanks partly to my roommate, but thanks mostly to his overly adventurous girlfriend Jodie, who had quite a few provocative ideas, when it came to bondage anyway.
So I guess it was understandable that by the end of my third year of college, my curiosity about being tied up was stronger than ever. I was also now thinking a lot about being gagged, and about being tickled, and there were still a few occasions when I would wonder about other aspects of bondage, such as what it would feel like to be dressed in women’s clothing while I was tied up.
At the end of that school year, I was on vacation at home, with plans to return to college for my senior year. That summer, my father was always away on business, for weeks at a time, and my mother was working long hours, so my mother had hired a housekeeper named Brenda, who came to our house every weekday, Monday through Friday. Brenda arrived around 8am, and she would finish her work around 4pm. But since Brenda was unmarried with nobody waiting for her at home, she usually stayed until around 7 o’clock each night, when my mother would come home from work.
Soon after I returned home from school, however, I began to develop a definite interest in our housekeeper Brenda, probably because she was a tall, solidly built woman in her thirties, with a very nicely proportioned figure.
And it would be with Brenda that I would experience bondage for the first time, not as a spectator, but as an active participant.
But then one weekend when my roommate went home to visit his family, Jodie came by the dorm room and asked me if I wanted to take my roommate’s place, and have a “tickle fight”, which is what Jodie always called it.
“Come on .... let’s see if you can tie my wrists behind my back …. I don’t think you can….” she taunted, then she went and found my roommate’s two strips of rope, the two strips that he’d procured earlier in the year to use on Jodie.
At that point, Jodie confessed to me something that I already suspected, which was that she had always liked me, even more than she liked her boyfriend. But she also assured me that if she and I had our own private tickling date, my roommate wouldn’t need to know, and it could be our “little secret”, something that Jodie and I could do whenever her boyfriend went out of town.
And as if things weren’t already moving fast enough in that dorm room, Jodie retrieved the cloth belts from my two bathrobes, and she dared me to try to tie her down on my bed. All her boyfriend ever did was tie her wrists behind her back, which was kind of “boring”, or so Jodie told me, but she added that if I turned out to be stronger than she was, I could tie her in a way which would, according to her, be “more exciting”. I could use the two strips of rope to tie her wrists to opposite upper bedposts, and I could utilize the two cloth belts to tie her ankles to the lower bedposts.
She would then be immobilized in a face-down position on my bed, with her legs spread open, which should make it easier for me to tickle her. I could do whatever I wanted to her, and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop me, at least that’s what Jodie was now telling me.
But Jodie went on to show me that she had a few dominant ideas of her own, when she informed me that if she were able to overpower me, then she might tie me on my bed, facing upwards, with my wrists and ankles stretched all the way out and tied to the bed’s four corners.
“…..That way, you’ll be spread all the way out for me, and you won’t be able to stop me, while I sit myself on your lap and tickle your sides and armpits…….” Jodie noted, and it was then that she asked me if I’d ever been gagged, which kind of caught me off guard, because I’d never heard either Jodie or my roommate talk about that subject before.
In any case, I responded that no, of course I’d never been gagged, nor had I ever been tied up, for that matter. I saw an opening, however, to inform Jodie that if she made too much noise while I was tickling her, I would have to gag her with her panties. She followed my lead and came right back, telling me that I was the one who would end up being gagged, with her panties.
The excitement in that room was building, and it seemed certain that Jodie and I were going to have our first wrestling date, because both of us were breathing hard and repeatedly touching one another as we were talking. But then Jodie playfully warned me that she might decide to keep me tied up and gagged for most of the weekend, and I guess that was when I first realized that maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
I say that, because after watching my roommate and Jodie playing their bondage games for the prior several months, I was well aware that Jodie was a girl who truly enjoyed being tied up, the tighter the better. So I believed that if she were able to turn the tables on me, she just might decide to keep me bound and gagged for most of the weekend, as she was now threatening to do. And she would probably tie me a bit more tightly and a bit more uncomfortably than I wanted to be tied.
So I abruptly told Jodie that I was having second thoughts, which evoked a spirited response from her.
“Come on ..... you know you want to try to strip me and tie me down to the bed, so you can lay on top of me and tickle me, and have your way with me…..” she teased, and she was right. I really did want to strip her down to her underwear and then tie her up, in the way that she had described to me, face down and spreadeagle on the bed, with her wrists secured to the upper bedposts, and with her legs spread wide and her ankles tied to opposite lower bedposts. That would have been a lot of fun, laying on top of her and tickling her, especially if she were stripped down to her panties and bra.
But I guess that I was worried that Jodie really was stronger than I was, which at the time, I genuinely believed that she was. After all, I’d watched her wrestling against my roommate often enough to know that Jodie was not only extremely athletic, but more importantly, she had over the past several months become a skilled and aggressive wrestler.
So yes, in the end, I did in fact decline Jodie’s challenge, I suppose because I was just too nervous about the possible consequences, if I were to lose a tickling contest to this girl. In the coming months, my roommate was planning a number of weekend trips home to visit his family, so if Jodie had overpowered me and tied me up, there was a good chance that she would show up at my dorm room and insist on tying me up for an extended tickling session, every time that my roommate went out of town.
It would be the following year, during my fourth year of college, that Jodie and I would finally have a series of weekend bondage encounters in my dorm room, where we would in fact end up getting caught in a compromising situation by a group of female students, all of whom were stunned by what Jodie and I were doing in my dorm room. And eventually, my roommate would return to the dorm unexpectedly on a Saturday evening, and he would walk in on Jodie and me, while the two of us were engaged in a rather intense tickling session. But I suppose I should save those particulars for another time.
For now, let’s just say that it was during my third year of school that my imagination kicked into high gear, thanks partly to my roommate, but thanks mostly to his overly adventurous girlfriend Jodie, who had quite a few provocative ideas, when it came to bondage anyway.
So I guess it was understandable that by the end of my third year of college, my curiosity about being tied up was stronger than ever. I was also now thinking a lot about being gagged, and about being tickled, and there were still a few occasions when I would wonder about other aspects of bondage, such as what it would feel like to be dressed in women’s clothing while I was tied up.
At the end of that school year, I was on vacation at home, with plans to return to college for my senior year. That summer, my father was always away on business, for weeks at a time, and my mother was working long hours, so my mother had hired a housekeeper named Brenda, who came to our house every weekday, Monday through Friday. Brenda arrived around 8am, and she would finish her work around 4pm. But since Brenda was unmarried with nobody waiting for her at home, she usually stayed until around 7 o’clock each night, when my mother would come home from work.
Soon after I returned home from school, however, I began to develop a definite interest in our housekeeper Brenda, probably because she was a tall, solidly built woman in her thirties, with a very nicely proportioned figure.
And it would be with Brenda that I would experience bondage for the first time, not as a spectator, but as an active participant.
Immediately upon returning home in June of that year, I started to date a girl named Jennifer, who like myself, was going to be returning to college at the end of August. But since Jennifer was working each day at a full time summer job, I would see her only after dinner each night, when I would visit her at her house.
As I was spending my days at home, however, I began to develop a definite interest in our housekeeper Brenda, possibly due to the fact that she was not only tall, but extremely well built. From what I knew about her, she’d had a rugged upbringing, and she had worked at several physically demanding jobs before taking up house cleaning a few years earlier. So I imagined her to be quite strong and athletic, which she certainly looked to be. On a number of occasions during my first week at home, I would observe her scouring one of the sinks, or scrubbing the kitchen or bathroom floor, and I would watch her for so long that she would end up noticing that I was standing there behind her, staring at her robustly built physique.
But she would just keep working, and although she would give me an indignant frown, she wouldn’t say anything. So I was thinking that even though she was a bit put off by my secretly watching her, she may have been flattered that a younger college male would be continually gawking at her figure, in the way that I was looking at her.
It was nonetheless very impressive to watch her work, because she would grind down really hard for several minutes at a time, without exerting much effort at all. So it was easy to see that she had quite a bit of raw, natural strength, not just in her upper body, but in her lower torso as well. I can still remember how remarkable Brenda’s legs, hips, and bottom looked in those knee length skirts that she wore every day, knee length skirts which did nothing to hide Brenda’s conspicuous feminine curves and her extremely solid lower frame.
And since she was both taller and quite a bit more heavily built than I was, I started to envision Brenda being able to subdue me and tie me up. With her long, sturdy legs, and her robust upper body, she certainly looked as if she would be able to overpower me, so I guess that was why I began to think about her in that way.
Another factor that I’m sure was helping to fuel my developing impulses about Brenda, was that she and I were all alone in the house the entire day, just the two of us, from 8am until 7pm, when my mother would return home from her job. My girlfriend Jennifer never came by my house, since I always visited her at night at her place, and my mother worked quite a long distance away, so there was minimal chance that she would ever come home in the middle of the day.
And there were only two visitors who stopped by the house during my first week home, a neighbor named Mrs. McCauley, and the young girl who lived next door named Kristie, both of whom came only to our front door, to chat with Brenda for a few minutes. I guess that Brenda had established friendships with the two of them, so they would talk briefly each day. But they both knew that Brenda had housework to do, so they wouldn’t stay long, and they never came inside the house.
But the point that I’m trying to make is that, unlike when I was at college, where there were numerous students roaming the halls outside my dorm room, I was confident that there was very little chance of getting caught at my home, if Brenda and I were ever to engage in any type of bondage activity.
Which might explain why, as I lounged around the house all day, I would allow my imagination to get a bit carried away, as I fixated more and more on our tall, capable looking housekeeper.
There was something else that helped to shape my developing feelings about Brenda, and that was her stern, unsmiling personality in general, and her cold, frowning attitude towards me in particular. Very early on, Brenda seemed to resent me, possibly because of the way that my mother was constantly bragging to Brenda about how smart I was, and how pretty my girlfriend Jennifer was. Then during my first few days at home, I might have unintentionally rubbed Brenda the wrong way, by continually boasting to her about how well I was doing in college, while at the same time, lightheartedly razzing her about not being that highly educated herself.
Also during that first week, I was getting increasingly bossy with her, which I did whenever she would catch me trying to watch her while she was working. I suppose I was attempting to hide the fact that I was sneaking looks at her attractive female figure, so whenever she would catch me staring at her, I would start to boss her, turning it into a critique on how I thought she should be doing her housework. On one morning in particular, I even went so far as to admonish Brenda for spending too much time talking to young Kristie at the front door.
And then there was another notable incident during that first week that I was home. Brenda had entered my room to vacuum the carpet, and I followed her in and proceeded to give her a fairly intense scolding about walking into my bedroom without permission. I’m sure that it only increased the ongoing friction between Brenda and me, because even though she apologized to me, she seemed to be clearly irritated over the way that I had chastised her.
In any case, by the end of my first week at home, Brenda definitely seemed to be quietly seething with resentment towards me, very much so. But instead of trying to get along with her, I found myself starting to deliberately boss her and antagonize her, because for some strange reason, the more annoyed she became with me, the more it seemed to raise the level of excitement in that house, as I secretly wondered what it would be like if Brenda were to tie me up.
Nonetheless, I didn’t realistically expect anything to happen between us during that summer.
Much to my surprise, however, something did in fact develop, on the following Monday, at the beginning of the second week that I was home. I was in my room at the time, and I guess that Brenda was mindful that I had verbally reprimanded her the previous week about entering my bedroom without permission, because she stood in my doorway and quietly asked if she could come in to vacuum my carpet.
When I told her that she could, but to hurry it up, Brenda told me that she could clean my bedroom more quickly, and she could finish all the rest of her housework more easily, if I weren’t checking up on her all the time, and if I weren’t bossing her around so much, as I had been during most of my first week at home.
At first, her voice had been quite testy, and for a moment, I was about to give her another scolding to put her in her place. But then, in a rare moment where she seemed to want to make small talk with me, possibly to try to get on my good side, her tone softened ever so slightly, and she asked me if I did anything interesting at college. I’m not sure what came over me at that moment, but I decided to tell Brenda that yes, I’d done some interesting things at college.
And that seemingly innocent exchange between us would ultimately lead to my first real-life bondage experience. I asked Brenda if she wanted me to tell her about a “rope” game that I supposedly played with my college girlfriend that year, a game in which I got tied up.
Brenda said yes, although her softened tone was quickly replaced by a more critical one, as she remarked in a sniping manner that she thought it was a bit strange for a college honor student like myself to allow himself to be tied up.
But despite her negative tone and her apparent disapproval for college students playing rope games, there was a definite gleam in Brenda’s eye now, one that I had not seen on her face during the entire week that I’d been home.
Which prompted me to ask Brenda again if she wanted to hear about the rope game, only this time, her answer was a lot more forceful, and a lot more enthusiastic.
“Yes ….. I’d like to know about this game of yours, the game where you got tied up…..” she told me, and I couldn’t help but think that she was intentionally giving me an opening, to take things further.
So I proceeded to make up a story that incorporated all of the various bondage ideas that I’d contemplated over the years, including those ideas that I’d always been too embarrassed to talk to anyone about, such as my occasional curiosity about wearing female underclothing, and my fascination about being gagged, when I was tied up.
I could never find the courage to talk about those things to any of my college dates, or to my current girlfriend Jennifer, because I didn’t think any of them would understand. And I’m not sure how or why I suddenly found the nerve to confess all of my innermost secret thoughts to Brenda.
But I suppose it was because Brenda was a simple, unsophisticated female, a female who didn’t have a husband or a boyfriend. So I wasn’t worried about her telling anyone, since she wasn’t the talkative type anyway.
Nor was I worried about her laughing at what I was revealing to her, since Brenda was a stern, humorless woman, one who never smiled, let alone laughed, at least as far as I could tell.
So I decided to throw caution aside and go for it, taking my time as I gradually disclosed one intimate detail after another, cloaking my revelations under the disguise of a fabricated college “game”.
I don’t remember exactly how I was phrasing everything, or what terminology I was using, but over the course of nearly ten minutes, I could see that Brenda was listening very carefully, as I told her about how my alleged college girlfriend would first dress me up in her underwear and in one of her short silk skirts, after which she would hogtie me, face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles fastened to my wrists.
Then she would gag me with a pair of her previously worn cotton panties, and I would have all day to try to escape, or so I told Brenda, who appeared to be somewhat shocked and even a bit disgusted over some of the more controversial aspects, such as my girlfriend dressing me up, and then gagging me not just with a pair of her panties, but with a pair of her previously worn panties.
But Brenda continued to listen very attentively, not saying a word, except for when I would pause for a moment. Then Brenda would speak. “Don’t stop ……. tell me more about your game…..”, she would instruct me, so not only did I keep going, but I decided to add even more spicy details to my story.
I further explained to Brenda that each day, my girlfriend would stipulate that if I couldn’t escape, she would be allowed to forcibly tickle me while I was gagged and hogtied.
And even as I was telling Brenda about the tickling, I could see that her eyes suddenly began to perk up with still more interest. So I added yet another detail, which was that I would then have to lick my girlfriend’s feet, before she would untie me.
I have no idea how I suddenly came up with the foot-licking penalty, because I hadn’t thought about that in years, since way back when I used to hear the many stories about my neighbor Carmen forcing all of her girlfriends to do that, when she tied them up. And I’d also heard about that sort of thing a few years after that, when I was at that summer camp, and the camp roughneck would supposedly force his captives to do that for him, when he had them stringently tied up in a remote area of the woods.
But it really was something that I hadn’t thought about in years, until that day that I was making up the story for Brenda. I guess by that stage of my discussion with Brenda, I was getting really caught up in finally being able to reveal to someone all of the various elements of my longtime thoughts about bondage.
So I suppose that my imagination was getting carried away, which might explain why I spontaneously volunteered the part about having to lick my girlfriend’s feet as a penalty, in case I wasn’t able to escape from my hogtie.
Of course my story wasn’t true, nor did I even have a “steady” girlfriend at college that year. But I was making it up as I went along, telling Brenda all those details in the remote hope that she might actually get the idea to tie me up herself. I knew that it was of course a long shot, but all throughout my story, Brenda seemed to be paying very close attention to everything I was saying, hanging on my every word with an inquisitive gleam in her eye.
And what was even more significant to me, was that Brenda seemed to be particularly intrigued by the notion that my girlfriend wanted to forcibly tickle me and make me lick her feet while I was still hogtied, as a penalty for not escaping from my bondage.
But then, at a certain point, I noticed that in addition to looking like she was fascinated by all of my revelations, Brenda’s lingering look of disapproval was still evident on her face. Maybe I was sounding a bit too eager, and possibly even a bit too kinky, I thought to myself.
So I quickly switched gears and began to act especially cocky and confident, telling Brenda that of course I always won the game, because I always escaped very quickly. So not only was I “undefeated” in all of my rope games, but I never did stay bound for very long at all.
Nor did I ever get tickled, or have to pay the penalty of licking my girlfriend’s feet, or so I told Brenda with a smug grin.
And I’m not sure why I did it, but I decided at that moment to try to rekindle and to further fuel Brenda’s weeklong irritation with me, by pointing out to her that since she was just a housemaid and had never been to college, she probably wouldn’t understand about games that college students played. So she probably wouldn’t be very good at tying me up anyway, I told Brenda.
At the time, I think that I was too absorbed in my fictional narrative to be thinking all that clearly, and more to the point, I really never expected Brenda to actually fall for my fabricated story.
But to my surprise, Brenda took the bait that I had laid out for her. Snapping back at me, she accused me of being a little too sure of myself, and she quickly added that she didn’t appreciate being repeatedly insulted and talked down to.
Then in a calm but clearly annoyed tone, she told me that even though she had never been to college, if she played my rope game with me, she was certain that she would win the game. She could hogtie me properly, and I just might find myself staying tied up all day long, she warned me.
My college girlfriend must not have been very good at tying someone up, or so Brenda told me, then she proposed that since she was going to be working all day anyway, and since the two of us were going to be all alone and undisturbed in the house until 7pm that night, she would hogtie me on my bed, then she would go on with her housekeeping chores, giving me plenty of time to try to escape while she worked. And that way, I would be kept busy in my bedroom, or so Brenda had reasoned. I would be kept busy in my bedroom and out of her hair, so to speak, which would allow Brenda to finally do her housework in peace, without being constantly pestered and bossed around by me.
And it would also stop me from sneaking up on her and impolitely staring at her from behind, Brenda added, in her first direct accusation to me about the way that I had repeatedly been standing behind her and secretly gawking at her.
So that was how it all started on that Monday. As I think back on that day, I realize now that Brenda had been looking for a way to get back at me, to get even with me for being so bossy and so disrespectful to her during the entire week that I’d been home. And what better way than to play a game with me that would allow her to tie me up in my bedroom. That would explain why Brenda seemed so interested in my revelations, and why she kept telling me that she wanted to hear more details, regarding the game where I got tied up. And I also think that my excessively overconfident attitude and my final set of insults and condescending statements pushed Brenda into her decision to tie me up, which she already wanted to do anyway, so that she could pay me back for the way that I’d been treating her.
“Well, do you want to play your rope game with me, or don’t you?” Brenda asked me, and even though that was what I had been thinking about for the entire week that I had been home, I was initially a little bit afraid to say yes to Brenda, particularly since she had now walked right up to me, and her taller frame was hovering over me as she stared directly down into my eyes, with her hands planted on her wide hips.
As she awaited my answer, there was a fairly long silence, during which Brenda continued to lock her eyes with mine, which I found to be quite intimidating. But I guess that in the back of my mind, a voice was telling me that this was my chance to find out, once and for all, what it would be like to be tied up by a capable female.
Which was why in the end, I suppose that I just couldn’t resist. So when I finally did speak, I found myself telling Brenda in a soft voice that it would be okay if she tried to hogtie me.
But for some reason, I decided to stir up her irritation with me one last time, by repeating my earlier claim that since she herself was just a housemaid and had never been to college, she probably wouldn’t be very good at tying me up.
So there was no way that she could keep me tied up and win the game, I added.
Well, that final cluster of taunting statements didn’t sit well at all with Brenda, because she gave me an especially icy glare and she moved even closer to me, so that her body was now right up against mine.
“Enough of your big talk! Let’s go ahead and play your college rope game, and we’ll just see who wins, me or you …… and we’ll just see if afterwards, you’re still ‘undefeated’ at your little hogtie game…….” she snapped at me.
So that’s how my first tie-up episode with our tall, robustly built housekeeper started. On that first occasion, she told me that she was very angry with me over the disrespectful way that I’d been bossing her and talking down to her since my return home from college. Furthermore, she didn’t appreciate the way that I was constantly sneaking looks at her from behind, she told me. So she very definitely wanted to hogtie me on my bed, in order to keep me properly occupied during the day, which might allow her to do her work without any interruptions from me. Or that’s what Brenda was saying anyway.
But she didn’t think that she should dress me up in female underwear, nor should she gag me with a pair of her panties, at least not until she got to know me a little better. Gagging me with her unwashed panties seemed like an appropriate way to teach me some much needed respect, but it did seem to be a bit too personal, and a bit too intimate, or so Brenda told me.
Then, however, she went on to voice her concern that it might cause our neighbors to get the wrong idea, if any of those neighbors were to find out that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom, while the two of us were alone in the house all day. Brenda was speaking about all of our many neighbors, but in particular, she mentioned Mrs. McCauley and young Kristie by name.
As Brenda was talking, I remember that I was both frightened and eerily excited by the fact that Brenda was actually contemplating “what if” our neighbors were to somehow find out, that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom, in order to keep me “occupied” during the day, while she did her housework.
But what I found even more provocative, was that Brenda was going even further, and talking about “what if” the neighbors were to find out that Brenda was also gagging me with a pair of her panties. And when Brenda referred to Kristie and to Mrs. McCauley by name, I remember getting a bit of a chill, over the thought of either of those two females ever finding out about any of the topics that Brenda and I were discussing in my bedroom on that day.
And Brenda had a lot more to say regarding her reluctance to gag me with such a personal undergarment.
“What would your girlfriend Jennifer think?” she asked, noting that Jennifer would most certainly not approve, if she were to find out. Then Brenda followed up by invoking my mother, and how my mother had been constantly bragging about me, since my return home from college.
So my mother would not be the least bit pleased either, to find out that the son that she was so proud of, was being dressed in female underclothing, and was then being gagged and hogtied by the housekeeper, while playing secret college rope games.
That’s exactly what Brenda was now telling me, though, that neither my mother nor my girlfriend Jennifer would approve, and our neighbors might possibly get the wrong idea, if any of the neighbors were to somehow find out. So Brenda probably shouldn’t dress me up in female underclothing, or gag me with her unwashed panties, at least not until she got to know me a little better.
But those statements and those highly charged opinions from Brenda, coupled with her stated desire to hogtie me to keep me “properly occupied” in my bedroom while she worked, had sent my imagination soaring even more, since it seemed as if Brenda was definitely leaving the door open for dressing me and gagging me during some future game, after she got to know me better, as she herself had put it. And remember, Brenda and I were going to be alone in the house every day for the next two remaining months of my summer vacation, before I was due to return to college for my senior year.
As I stood there waiting anxiously in my bedroom, Brenda went to get a pair of scissors, then she hustled off to the laundry room, returning with seven long strips of what appeared to be very strong, very sturdy clothesline.
“Okay, I’m ready to play your hogtie game ……… But I have housework to do …… So hurry up and lay face down on your bed…..” she instructed me.
As I was spending my days at home, however, I began to develop a definite interest in our housekeeper Brenda, possibly due to the fact that she was not only tall, but extremely well built. From what I knew about her, she’d had a rugged upbringing, and she had worked at several physically demanding jobs before taking up house cleaning a few years earlier. So I imagined her to be quite strong and athletic, which she certainly looked to be. On a number of occasions during my first week at home, I would observe her scouring one of the sinks, or scrubbing the kitchen or bathroom floor, and I would watch her for so long that she would end up noticing that I was standing there behind her, staring at her robustly built physique.
But she would just keep working, and although she would give me an indignant frown, she wouldn’t say anything. So I was thinking that even though she was a bit put off by my secretly watching her, she may have been flattered that a younger college male would be continually gawking at her figure, in the way that I was looking at her.
It was nonetheless very impressive to watch her work, because she would grind down really hard for several minutes at a time, without exerting much effort at all. So it was easy to see that she had quite a bit of raw, natural strength, not just in her upper body, but in her lower torso as well. I can still remember how remarkable Brenda’s legs, hips, and bottom looked in those knee length skirts that she wore every day, knee length skirts which did nothing to hide Brenda’s conspicuous feminine curves and her extremely solid lower frame.
And since she was both taller and quite a bit more heavily built than I was, I started to envision Brenda being able to subdue me and tie me up. With her long, sturdy legs, and her robust upper body, she certainly looked as if she would be able to overpower me, so I guess that was why I began to think about her in that way.
Another factor that I’m sure was helping to fuel my developing impulses about Brenda, was that she and I were all alone in the house the entire day, just the two of us, from 8am until 7pm, when my mother would return home from her job. My girlfriend Jennifer never came by my house, since I always visited her at night at her place, and my mother worked quite a long distance away, so there was minimal chance that she would ever come home in the middle of the day.
And there were only two visitors who stopped by the house during my first week home, a neighbor named Mrs. McCauley, and the young girl who lived next door named Kristie, both of whom came only to our front door, to chat with Brenda for a few minutes. I guess that Brenda had established friendships with the two of them, so they would talk briefly each day. But they both knew that Brenda had housework to do, so they wouldn’t stay long, and they never came inside the house.
But the point that I’m trying to make is that, unlike when I was at college, where there were numerous students roaming the halls outside my dorm room, I was confident that there was very little chance of getting caught at my home, if Brenda and I were ever to engage in any type of bondage activity.
Which might explain why, as I lounged around the house all day, I would allow my imagination to get a bit carried away, as I fixated more and more on our tall, capable looking housekeeper.
There was something else that helped to shape my developing feelings about Brenda, and that was her stern, unsmiling personality in general, and her cold, frowning attitude towards me in particular. Very early on, Brenda seemed to resent me, possibly because of the way that my mother was constantly bragging to Brenda about how smart I was, and how pretty my girlfriend Jennifer was. Then during my first few days at home, I might have unintentionally rubbed Brenda the wrong way, by continually boasting to her about how well I was doing in college, while at the same time, lightheartedly razzing her about not being that highly educated herself.
Also during that first week, I was getting increasingly bossy with her, which I did whenever she would catch me trying to watch her while she was working. I suppose I was attempting to hide the fact that I was sneaking looks at her attractive female figure, so whenever she would catch me staring at her, I would start to boss her, turning it into a critique on how I thought she should be doing her housework. On one morning in particular, I even went so far as to admonish Brenda for spending too much time talking to young Kristie at the front door.
And then there was another notable incident during that first week that I was home. Brenda had entered my room to vacuum the carpet, and I followed her in and proceeded to give her a fairly intense scolding about walking into my bedroom without permission. I’m sure that it only increased the ongoing friction between Brenda and me, because even though she apologized to me, she seemed to be clearly irritated over the way that I had chastised her.
In any case, by the end of my first week at home, Brenda definitely seemed to be quietly seething with resentment towards me, very much so. But instead of trying to get along with her, I found myself starting to deliberately boss her and antagonize her, because for some strange reason, the more annoyed she became with me, the more it seemed to raise the level of excitement in that house, as I secretly wondered what it would be like if Brenda were to tie me up.
Nonetheless, I didn’t realistically expect anything to happen between us during that summer.
Much to my surprise, however, something did in fact develop, on the following Monday, at the beginning of the second week that I was home. I was in my room at the time, and I guess that Brenda was mindful that I had verbally reprimanded her the previous week about entering my bedroom without permission, because she stood in my doorway and quietly asked if she could come in to vacuum my carpet.
When I told her that she could, but to hurry it up, Brenda told me that she could clean my bedroom more quickly, and she could finish all the rest of her housework more easily, if I weren’t checking up on her all the time, and if I weren’t bossing her around so much, as I had been during most of my first week at home.
At first, her voice had been quite testy, and for a moment, I was about to give her another scolding to put her in her place. But then, in a rare moment where she seemed to want to make small talk with me, possibly to try to get on my good side, her tone softened ever so slightly, and she asked me if I did anything interesting at college. I’m not sure what came over me at that moment, but I decided to tell Brenda that yes, I’d done some interesting things at college.
And that seemingly innocent exchange between us would ultimately lead to my first real-life bondage experience. I asked Brenda if she wanted me to tell her about a “rope” game that I supposedly played with my college girlfriend that year, a game in which I got tied up.
Brenda said yes, although her softened tone was quickly replaced by a more critical one, as she remarked in a sniping manner that she thought it was a bit strange for a college honor student like myself to allow himself to be tied up.
But despite her negative tone and her apparent disapproval for college students playing rope games, there was a definite gleam in Brenda’s eye now, one that I had not seen on her face during the entire week that I’d been home.
Which prompted me to ask Brenda again if she wanted to hear about the rope game, only this time, her answer was a lot more forceful, and a lot more enthusiastic.
“Yes ….. I’d like to know about this game of yours, the game where you got tied up…..” she told me, and I couldn’t help but think that she was intentionally giving me an opening, to take things further.
So I proceeded to make up a story that incorporated all of the various bondage ideas that I’d contemplated over the years, including those ideas that I’d always been too embarrassed to talk to anyone about, such as my occasional curiosity about wearing female underclothing, and my fascination about being gagged, when I was tied up.
I could never find the courage to talk about those things to any of my college dates, or to my current girlfriend Jennifer, because I didn’t think any of them would understand. And I’m not sure how or why I suddenly found the nerve to confess all of my innermost secret thoughts to Brenda.
But I suppose it was because Brenda was a simple, unsophisticated female, a female who didn’t have a husband or a boyfriend. So I wasn’t worried about her telling anyone, since she wasn’t the talkative type anyway.
Nor was I worried about her laughing at what I was revealing to her, since Brenda was a stern, humorless woman, one who never smiled, let alone laughed, at least as far as I could tell.
So I decided to throw caution aside and go for it, taking my time as I gradually disclosed one intimate detail after another, cloaking my revelations under the disguise of a fabricated college “game”.
I don’t remember exactly how I was phrasing everything, or what terminology I was using, but over the course of nearly ten minutes, I could see that Brenda was listening very carefully, as I told her about how my alleged college girlfriend would first dress me up in her underwear and in one of her short silk skirts, after which she would hogtie me, face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles fastened to my wrists.
Then she would gag me with a pair of her previously worn cotton panties, and I would have all day to try to escape, or so I told Brenda, who appeared to be somewhat shocked and even a bit disgusted over some of the more controversial aspects, such as my girlfriend dressing me up, and then gagging me not just with a pair of her panties, but with a pair of her previously worn panties.
But Brenda continued to listen very attentively, not saying a word, except for when I would pause for a moment. Then Brenda would speak. “Don’t stop ……. tell me more about your game…..”, she would instruct me, so not only did I keep going, but I decided to add even more spicy details to my story.
I further explained to Brenda that each day, my girlfriend would stipulate that if I couldn’t escape, she would be allowed to forcibly tickle me while I was gagged and hogtied.
And even as I was telling Brenda about the tickling, I could see that her eyes suddenly began to perk up with still more interest. So I added yet another detail, which was that I would then have to lick my girlfriend’s feet, before she would untie me.
I have no idea how I suddenly came up with the foot-licking penalty, because I hadn’t thought about that in years, since way back when I used to hear the many stories about my neighbor Carmen forcing all of her girlfriends to do that, when she tied them up. And I’d also heard about that sort of thing a few years after that, when I was at that summer camp, and the camp roughneck would supposedly force his captives to do that for him, when he had them stringently tied up in a remote area of the woods.
But it really was something that I hadn’t thought about in years, until that day that I was making up the story for Brenda. I guess by that stage of my discussion with Brenda, I was getting really caught up in finally being able to reveal to someone all of the various elements of my longtime thoughts about bondage.
So I suppose that my imagination was getting carried away, which might explain why I spontaneously volunteered the part about having to lick my girlfriend’s feet as a penalty, in case I wasn’t able to escape from my hogtie.
Of course my story wasn’t true, nor did I even have a “steady” girlfriend at college that year. But I was making it up as I went along, telling Brenda all those details in the remote hope that she might actually get the idea to tie me up herself. I knew that it was of course a long shot, but all throughout my story, Brenda seemed to be paying very close attention to everything I was saying, hanging on my every word with an inquisitive gleam in her eye.
And what was even more significant to me, was that Brenda seemed to be particularly intrigued by the notion that my girlfriend wanted to forcibly tickle me and make me lick her feet while I was still hogtied, as a penalty for not escaping from my bondage.
But then, at a certain point, I noticed that in addition to looking like she was fascinated by all of my revelations, Brenda’s lingering look of disapproval was still evident on her face. Maybe I was sounding a bit too eager, and possibly even a bit too kinky, I thought to myself.
So I quickly switched gears and began to act especially cocky and confident, telling Brenda that of course I always won the game, because I always escaped very quickly. So not only was I “undefeated” in all of my rope games, but I never did stay bound for very long at all.
Nor did I ever get tickled, or have to pay the penalty of licking my girlfriend’s feet, or so I told Brenda with a smug grin.
And I’m not sure why I did it, but I decided at that moment to try to rekindle and to further fuel Brenda’s weeklong irritation with me, by pointing out to her that since she was just a housemaid and had never been to college, she probably wouldn’t understand about games that college students played. So she probably wouldn’t be very good at tying me up anyway, I told Brenda.
At the time, I think that I was too absorbed in my fictional narrative to be thinking all that clearly, and more to the point, I really never expected Brenda to actually fall for my fabricated story.
But to my surprise, Brenda took the bait that I had laid out for her. Snapping back at me, she accused me of being a little too sure of myself, and she quickly added that she didn’t appreciate being repeatedly insulted and talked down to.
Then in a calm but clearly annoyed tone, she told me that even though she had never been to college, if she played my rope game with me, she was certain that she would win the game. She could hogtie me properly, and I just might find myself staying tied up all day long, she warned me.
My college girlfriend must not have been very good at tying someone up, or so Brenda told me, then she proposed that since she was going to be working all day anyway, and since the two of us were going to be all alone and undisturbed in the house until 7pm that night, she would hogtie me on my bed, then she would go on with her housekeeping chores, giving me plenty of time to try to escape while she worked. And that way, I would be kept busy in my bedroom, or so Brenda had reasoned. I would be kept busy in my bedroom and out of her hair, so to speak, which would allow Brenda to finally do her housework in peace, without being constantly pestered and bossed around by me.
And it would also stop me from sneaking up on her and impolitely staring at her from behind, Brenda added, in her first direct accusation to me about the way that I had repeatedly been standing behind her and secretly gawking at her.
So that was how it all started on that Monday. As I think back on that day, I realize now that Brenda had been looking for a way to get back at me, to get even with me for being so bossy and so disrespectful to her during the entire week that I’d been home. And what better way than to play a game with me that would allow her to tie me up in my bedroom. That would explain why Brenda seemed so interested in my revelations, and why she kept telling me that she wanted to hear more details, regarding the game where I got tied up. And I also think that my excessively overconfident attitude and my final set of insults and condescending statements pushed Brenda into her decision to tie me up, which she already wanted to do anyway, so that she could pay me back for the way that I’d been treating her.
“Well, do you want to play your rope game with me, or don’t you?” Brenda asked me, and even though that was what I had been thinking about for the entire week that I had been home, I was initially a little bit afraid to say yes to Brenda, particularly since she had now walked right up to me, and her taller frame was hovering over me as she stared directly down into my eyes, with her hands planted on her wide hips.
As she awaited my answer, there was a fairly long silence, during which Brenda continued to lock her eyes with mine, which I found to be quite intimidating. But I guess that in the back of my mind, a voice was telling me that this was my chance to find out, once and for all, what it would be like to be tied up by a capable female.
Which was why in the end, I suppose that I just couldn’t resist. So when I finally did speak, I found myself telling Brenda in a soft voice that it would be okay if she tried to hogtie me.
But for some reason, I decided to stir up her irritation with me one last time, by repeating my earlier claim that since she herself was just a housemaid and had never been to college, she probably wouldn’t be very good at tying me up.
So there was no way that she could keep me tied up and win the game, I added.
Well, that final cluster of taunting statements didn’t sit well at all with Brenda, because she gave me an especially icy glare and she moved even closer to me, so that her body was now right up against mine.
“Enough of your big talk! Let’s go ahead and play your college rope game, and we’ll just see who wins, me or you …… and we’ll just see if afterwards, you’re still ‘undefeated’ at your little hogtie game…….” she snapped at me.
So that’s how my first tie-up episode with our tall, robustly built housekeeper started. On that first occasion, she told me that she was very angry with me over the disrespectful way that I’d been bossing her and talking down to her since my return home from college. Furthermore, she didn’t appreciate the way that I was constantly sneaking looks at her from behind, she told me. So she very definitely wanted to hogtie me on my bed, in order to keep me properly occupied during the day, which might allow her to do her work without any interruptions from me. Or that’s what Brenda was saying anyway.
But she didn’t think that she should dress me up in female underwear, nor should she gag me with a pair of her panties, at least not until she got to know me a little better. Gagging me with her unwashed panties seemed like an appropriate way to teach me some much needed respect, but it did seem to be a bit too personal, and a bit too intimate, or so Brenda told me.
Then, however, she went on to voice her concern that it might cause our neighbors to get the wrong idea, if any of those neighbors were to find out that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom, while the two of us were alone in the house all day. Brenda was speaking about all of our many neighbors, but in particular, she mentioned Mrs. McCauley and young Kristie by name.
As Brenda was talking, I remember that I was both frightened and eerily excited by the fact that Brenda was actually contemplating “what if” our neighbors were to somehow find out, that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom, in order to keep me “occupied” during the day, while she did her housework.
But what I found even more provocative, was that Brenda was going even further, and talking about “what if” the neighbors were to find out that Brenda was also gagging me with a pair of her panties. And when Brenda referred to Kristie and to Mrs. McCauley by name, I remember getting a bit of a chill, over the thought of either of those two females ever finding out about any of the topics that Brenda and I were discussing in my bedroom on that day.
And Brenda had a lot more to say regarding her reluctance to gag me with such a personal undergarment.
“What would your girlfriend Jennifer think?” she asked, noting that Jennifer would most certainly not approve, if she were to find out. Then Brenda followed up by invoking my mother, and how my mother had been constantly bragging about me, since my return home from college.
So my mother would not be the least bit pleased either, to find out that the son that she was so proud of, was being dressed in female underclothing, and was then being gagged and hogtied by the housekeeper, while playing secret college rope games.
That’s exactly what Brenda was now telling me, though, that neither my mother nor my girlfriend Jennifer would approve, and our neighbors might possibly get the wrong idea, if any of the neighbors were to somehow find out. So Brenda probably shouldn’t dress me up in female underclothing, or gag me with her unwashed panties, at least not until she got to know me a little better.
But those statements and those highly charged opinions from Brenda, coupled with her stated desire to hogtie me to keep me “properly occupied” in my bedroom while she worked, had sent my imagination soaring even more, since it seemed as if Brenda was definitely leaving the door open for dressing me and gagging me during some future game, after she got to know me better, as she herself had put it. And remember, Brenda and I were going to be alone in the house every day for the next two remaining months of my summer vacation, before I was due to return to college for my senior year.
As I stood there waiting anxiously in my bedroom, Brenda went to get a pair of scissors, then she hustled off to the laundry room, returning with seven long strips of what appeared to be very strong, very sturdy clothesline.
“Okay, I’m ready to play your hogtie game ……… But I have housework to do …… So hurry up and lay face down on your bed…..” she instructed me.
So that was how my first bondage encounter with Brenda began that summer, with me making up a story about a rope game that I allegedly played at college, a game where my girlfriend would supposedly hogtie me, and I would then have all day to try to escape.
But I told Brenda that I always freed myself really easily. So I always won the game, and I never had to pay the penalties, which were that my girlfriend would get to forcibly tickle me, and she would then be allowed to make me lick her feet, while I was still hogtied.
Brenda listened very carefully to my story, and although she looked shocked and even somewhat disgusted by the details that involved women’s underwear, she seemed particularly intrigued by the two penalties.
And to my surprise, Brenda told me that she very definitely wanted to play my “college hogtie game”, which is what she immediately started calling it.
She went on to explain that she was very angry with me, not only because of my bossy and disrespectful attitude towards her, but also because of the way that I’d been sneaking inappropriate looks at her all week long. So she assured me that she would be more than happy to hogtie me on my bed.
But then Brenda warned me that she fully expected that she would not only win the game, but that she would be able to collect the penalties from me afterwards. Because unlike my college girlfriend, Brenda was certain that she would be able to hogtie me properly, so that I would stay tied up all day long.
Then Brenda quickly went off to the laundry room, returning with seven long strips of clothesline, and I guess that’s when it really started to sink in, that I was about to be tied up, for the first time in my life.
And as I took a good look at the tall, capably built female that was going to be tying me up, I remember feeling a strange mix of both excitement and apprehension, particularly when Brenda confidently dropped the handful of rope down onto the edge of my bed.
That was when I turned my attention to the pile of rope, and I couldn’t help but notice that the long strips of rope looked to be especially strong and sturdy, with just the right texture and thickness.
I also couldn’t help but notice that Brenda had cut a lot more strips than I thought she needed, which I took as yet another sign that she was serious about tying me up.
And Brenda clearly was serious, because she immediately told me to “lie face down” on my bed, which I did. In a matter of seconds, she had climbed up on top of me, and before I could get comfortable, Brenda was not only straddling my hips and bearing down hard, but she had seized both of my wrists, jerking them high up behind my back.
“W..Wait….. I’m not ready yet…..” I tried to tell her, but she simply ignored my protest, and she had instead tightened her grips around both of my wrists.
“Be quiet…..” she told me dismissively, calmly adding that she had to get started on her housework, so we didn’t have time for me to get “ready”. And my neighbor Kristie was due to stop by soon, to chat with Brenda at the front door, as she normally did a few times each day, starting with a visit in the morning.
At that point, Brenda took a moment to reveal something to me that I sort of already knew, which was that Kristie had a major schoolgirl crush on me. And according to Brenda, Kristie was constantly mentioning how she thought that I was always so well dressed, and so much more mature than all of the young boys her own age.
“But I have no idea what Kristie would think, if she knew that you and I are playing a college hogtie game in your bedroom right now….” Brenda told me, then she got back to questioning me about how she was supposed to tie me up, and what she was supposed to do next.
“First I need to tie your wrists behind your back, right? Is that how the game is supposed to be played?” she asked, and I knew that I had to look pretty silly, as I lay there, face down on my king sized bed, with Brenda straddled heavily on the backs of my upper thighs. If anyone had walked into my room right then and found us in that position, it would have appeared as if Brenda and I were wrestling, and I was losing.
And at that moment, it sure seemed like that to me, because the way that Brenda had my wrists twisted high up behind my back, it definitely felt as if Brenda had me emphatically pinned, using a very decisive wrestling hold.
It should be pointed out, however, that one of the reasons that I had become so fixated on Brenda in the first place, was that I had imagined her to be a strong and physically capable woman, a woman who could overpower me and tie me up. And now that she was mounted squarely on top of me on my bed, she was proving to be even more powerful, and even more physically capable, than I had ever expected her to be. In fact, her grip around my wrists was so tight and so incapacitating, that I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to pull either of my wrists loose, no matter how hard I tried.
But it wasn’t just Brenda’s upper body strength that was quickly becoming evident to me, because as she was clenching her husky inner thighs together against my sides, I could feel the firmness and the raw power of Brenda’s entire lower torso, not only in her long, well built legs, but in her flared hips and her wide bottom as well. And I could feel that firmness, and that raw feminine power, even through the material of the knee length skirt that Brenda was wearing.
I guess what was most intimidating for me, however, was that while Brenda was straddled so emphatically on top of me like that, and pinning my wrists behind my back so aggressively, she was staring coldly down at me, as if she could hardly contain her deep hostility towards me, hostility that I suppose was understandable, given how I had been constantly disrespecting her and bossing her around, during the entire week since I’d returned home from college.
And I suppose that I had antagonized her even more by having just minutes earlier talked down to her, when I had arrogantly reminded her that she was just a housecleaner who had never been to college.
“So I need to tie your wrists behind your back first, right? That’s how we play this game, isn’t it?” she repeated in an impatient tone, and although I had some trouble talking to Brenda from my face down position, I nonetheless gave Brenda a few quick pointers on how to loop and then crossloop the rope several times around my wrists, just as I had so often watched my college roommate tie his girlfriend’s wrists.
But then as I started to explain how she should tie my ankles together in the same fashion, Brenda cut me off in midsentence.
“You need to stop talking now…..” she snapped down at me, adding that even though she’d never tied anyone up before, she didn’t require any further explanation from me, since tying my ankles sounded exactly the same as tying my wrists. And besides, she was expecting Kristie soon, so she didn’t have a lot of time to waste with me. We needed to hurry up and start our “hogtie” game, she told me, and I remember thinking that Brenda was speaking a bit too sharply to me, and in a decidedly critical tone of voice.
“So you need to be quiet ……. I have to tie your wrists behind your back now…….” she continued, and she proceeded to do just that, tie my wrists that is, with no hesitation whatsoever.
I could feel Brenda slide her long legs upward along my hips, until she was squeezing her knees against my waist. Then she suddenly adjusted her grips, so that she was using one of her hands to tentatively clinch my forearms together, while her free hand began to hastily loop a strip of rope several times around both my wrists.
Following the directions that I had just given her, Brenda was proving to be a surprisingly quick learner, starting with the several swift loops around my wrists, followed by a number of crossloops in the other direction. Then Brenda tied several knots, each of which felt especially tight.
After she finished binding my wrists together, she completely reversed her straddle position on the backs of my upper legs, so that I could feel Brenda’s knees now clamped tightly against the outsides of my lower thighs, which served to effectively pin my legs together. At the same time, her large, skirt covered bottom was pressing downwards against my bound wrists, mashing them down against my lower back.
Brenda was now seated firmly on top of me, facing my feet, and it was from that reversed position that she reached down and proceeded to remove my shoes and my socks. Casually tossing each of the items over onto the floor away from my bed, she informed me that she thought that she could tie my ankles better, if my socks weren’t in the way, and if my trouser legs were rolled up away from my ankles.
That was how I found myself barefooted and now wearing just my short sleeve shirt and my light summer slacks, with the pants legs rolled up to just above my calves.
“Now I have to tie your ankles together, right? That’s how I’m supposed to play the game, isn’t it?” Brenda asked me, but she was in such a hurry to start tying, that she didn’t even wait for me to answer her questions.
“Stop fidgeting so much ….. My goodness, you’re sensitive….” she chided me, as she was tying my ankles together with a second strip of rope. She followed the same process as she had used on my wrists, winding several taut loops around my ankles, followed by five or six really tight crossloops, then a series of secure knots, one on top of the other.
But now that Brenda had removed my footware and had rolled my trouser legs up to just below my knees, Brenda’s hands and fingers were brushing repeatedly against the bare skin of my ankles and feet.
Looking back, I really don’t know if Brenda was deliberately taking her time as she tied my ankles, but it sure seemed like it, because her unhurried touching and feeling of my exposed lower legs was indeed causing me to fidget and twitch a lot, quite a lot. And I definitely was feeling very sensitive to the soft touch of Brenda’s roaming fingers, just as Brenda said that I was.
With my wrists already tied behind my back, however, and with Brenda mounted so emphatically on top of me, pinning my legs tightly together with her knees, I had to just lay there in my face down position, unable to move my lower legs out of Brenda’s long reach. So as Brenda was busy tying my ankles together, the tips of her fingers continued to brush lightly against my bared skin.
“Oh, my! You sure are fidgeting a lot……… You really are a very sensitive young man, aren’t you?” Brenda again pointed out, and when my twitching became even more noticeable, Brenda said something that sounded like a distinct forewarning of things yet to come:
“The way you’re fidgeting around so much, I have a feeling that you’re going to turn out to be extremely ticklish …… Which should prove to be very interesting……” she told me, and it was then that I realized that I didn’t mind being tied up by Brenda, but I definitely didn’t think that I wanted to be tickled by her.
Because I understood that if I was this overly sensitive to Brenda simply brushing up against my ankles while tying them together, how unbearable would it get if I were to lose a “hogtie game” to Brenda, and if Brenda were then allowed to impose the penalty of forcibly tickling me, against my will, while I was still hogtied.
But even though I was concerned about the prospect of being forcibly tickled, the sensations I was experiencing on that day were actually quite pleasant, for the most part.
You have to remember that in spite of all the times during my life that I had thought about being tied up, I’d never even once had my wrists bound, nor had I ever had my ankles tied together. So these sensations were brand new for me, to be lying face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles now tied together as well.
But although the feeling of being tied up was initially intriguing and pleasurable, it was also rather unsettling, because even on that first time that Brenda tied me up, on that first day of my second week at home, she tied my wrists behind my back uncomfortably tight, and she knotted my ankles together just as rigidly.
More importantly, she had done it almost entirely on her own initiative, and hadn’t really needed very much coaching from me at all. I remember that when I tried to tell her that she didn’t really need to tie my ankles quite that tight, she told me again in a stern voice that I needed to stop talking, because she understood exactly what she was supposed to do.
“……and if I have to tie the ropes a little too tight, to make sure that you can’t escape, and to make sure that I win the game, then that’s the point of tying you up, isn’t it? I’m supposed to win the game, right?” she asked me, then she told me that she had just now finished tying the final knots around my ankles, so it was too late to loosen that rope now anyway. Her statement gave me some relief, however, because I didn’t think I could take another second of her fingers brushing against my bare lower legs.
Then, from my limited side view, I watched as Brenda picked up a third strip of rope from the pile on the edge of my bed.
At that point, my wrists were securely tied behind my back, my ankles were laced together, and I was lying flat on my bed, in a prone, face down position. I knew that Brenda had done an extremely good job so far, because I felt completely helpless, and as I pulled softly on my wrists and ankles, the ropes seemed to be tied not just tight, but inescapably tight.
So I admit that I was more than a little nervous when Brenda announced that it was time to hogtie me “all the way”, as she put it.
And that’s when we heard the sound of the doorbell ringing.
“That must be Kristie…….” Brenda announced, matter-of-factly telling me that she had to go and talk to her young friend. But she assured me that as soon as she was done, she would immediately return to my bedroom, so that she could hogtie my wrists to my ankles.
“And don’t you dare think that just because Kristie interrupted us, you’re going to get out of playing our game all the way through to the end ……. As soon as I’m done talking to Kristie, I’m coming right back to this bedroom, and you are going to be hogtied good and tight…..” she promised, adding that she was then going to leave me hogtied on my bed, while she did her housework.
“………and you’ll have all day to try to escape…..” she told me, then she hurried out of my bedroom to go to the front door to talk to Kristie.
But on her way out of my room, Brenda said something that showed me that she was perhaps developing a bit of a mischievous side to her decidedly stern and serious personality.
“I think I’ll leave your bedroom door open, but don’t worry, I probably won’t be bringing Kristie to your room ..….. at least not today anyway ……. But we’ll see……..” Brenda told me, adding that she still needed to feel Kristie out on the matter of my college hogtie game, since she wouldn’t want to shock Kristie too much.
But suddenly, I could envision a thoroughly embarrassing twist being added into my summer activities, if Brenda was serious about bringing Kristie to look in on me in my bedroom, either on that particular day, or at some future time.
After Brenda left my room, I tried not to fret too much about Brenda deliberately leaving my bedroom door wide open, because tied up on my bed as I was, I knew that I couldn’t do anything about it anyway.
But there was one advantage to having my door open, because I could hear the distinct sounds of female voices, as Brenda and Kristie chatted just outside the front door of our house. Despite the significant difference in their ages, the two of them were becoming good friends, who enjoyed talking with each other, several times every day. So whenever Kristie would get bored at her house, she would tell her mother that she was coming over to talk to Brenda, then she would dash over to my house and ring the doorbell.
As I lay there listening to the two female voices at my front door, I guess it was understandable that I was feeling a certain uneasiness over what was yet to come that day. But I nonetheless couldn’t deny that the tightness of the ropes around my wrists and ankles felt inexplicably exciting, and even kind of invigorating. In fact, I don’t think that I’d ever felt more invigorated.
Maybe that was why I started to pull ever so softly on my securely bound wrists and ankles, so that I could reinforce the impression of complete helplessness. Which in turn, seemed to further stoke the involuntary thrill that was gradually building deep inside of me.
But then as I continued to lay there, I found myself momentarily thinking about what Brenda and Kristie might be talking about, as the two of them stood just outside the front door of our house.
I wondered if Brenda and Kristie were talking about me, and I remember that I got a case of the goosebumps, as I thought about how Kristie might react if she were to walk into my bedroom and see me tied up as I was now, face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted together behind my back, and with my ankles tied tightly together.
And my case of goosebumps became even more pronounced, when I tried to imagine an even worse situation, that is, if Brenda were to bring Kristie to my bedroom, while Brenda had me In a full hogtie, or hogtied “all the way”, as Brenda liked to refer to it.
As I lay there that day, all kinds of thoughts were going through my mind, and I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t stop tugging on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, which continued to fuel my rising excitement.
And for some reason that I didn’t fully understand, I didn’t want to stop what I was doing, because the combination of having my wrists tied behind my back, and having my ankles tied together, was causing sensations in me that were unlike any that I’d ever before felt. It was the first time that I had ever been tied up, and the ropes were looped and crosslooped so snugly around my wrists and ankles, and they felt so tight, and so very secure.
So I guess it was on that day that I came to appreciate, all too well, why some people enjoy being tied up. Because I continued to get more stirred up, even as I found myself worrying about Kristie walking in on me, and even as I grew more and more nervous about Brenda’s warning to me that she would be returning to my bedroom to hogtie me “good and tight”.
Brenda had issued other warnings to me as well that day, like how she fully expected that she would not only be able to win our game, but that she would be able to collect the penalties from me afterwards. Because unlike my college girlfriend, Brenda was certain that she would be able to hogtie me properly, so that I would stay tied up all day long.
It was that particular set of warnings from Brenda that I ended up focusing on, as I lay there face down on my bed, awaiting Brenda’s return to my bedroom. I kept trying to reassure myself that I would be able to escape from Brenda’s hogtie, so I wouldn’t have to pay the two different penalties to Brenda.
But as I thought about Brenda, and Kristie, and as I continued to pull softly on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, my level of involuntary excitement continued to escalate, until it felt like I was reaching a point where, if I wasn’t careful, there was a chance that my excitement might abruptly spiral out of control.
But I told Brenda that I always freed myself really easily. So I always won the game, and I never had to pay the penalties, which were that my girlfriend would get to forcibly tickle me, and she would then be allowed to make me lick her feet, while I was still hogtied.
Brenda listened very carefully to my story, and although she looked shocked and even somewhat disgusted by the details that involved women’s underwear, she seemed particularly intrigued by the two penalties.
And to my surprise, Brenda told me that she very definitely wanted to play my “college hogtie game”, which is what she immediately started calling it.
She went on to explain that she was very angry with me, not only because of my bossy and disrespectful attitude towards her, but also because of the way that I’d been sneaking inappropriate looks at her all week long. So she assured me that she would be more than happy to hogtie me on my bed.
But then Brenda warned me that she fully expected that she would not only win the game, but that she would be able to collect the penalties from me afterwards. Because unlike my college girlfriend, Brenda was certain that she would be able to hogtie me properly, so that I would stay tied up all day long.
Then Brenda quickly went off to the laundry room, returning with seven long strips of clothesline, and I guess that’s when it really started to sink in, that I was about to be tied up, for the first time in my life.
And as I took a good look at the tall, capably built female that was going to be tying me up, I remember feeling a strange mix of both excitement and apprehension, particularly when Brenda confidently dropped the handful of rope down onto the edge of my bed.
That was when I turned my attention to the pile of rope, and I couldn’t help but notice that the long strips of rope looked to be especially strong and sturdy, with just the right texture and thickness.
I also couldn’t help but notice that Brenda had cut a lot more strips than I thought she needed, which I took as yet another sign that she was serious about tying me up.
And Brenda clearly was serious, because she immediately told me to “lie face down” on my bed, which I did. In a matter of seconds, she had climbed up on top of me, and before I could get comfortable, Brenda was not only straddling my hips and bearing down hard, but she had seized both of my wrists, jerking them high up behind my back.
“W..Wait….. I’m not ready yet…..” I tried to tell her, but she simply ignored my protest, and she had instead tightened her grips around both of my wrists.
“Be quiet…..” she told me dismissively, calmly adding that she had to get started on her housework, so we didn’t have time for me to get “ready”. And my neighbor Kristie was due to stop by soon, to chat with Brenda at the front door, as she normally did a few times each day, starting with a visit in the morning.
At that point, Brenda took a moment to reveal something to me that I sort of already knew, which was that Kristie had a major schoolgirl crush on me. And according to Brenda, Kristie was constantly mentioning how she thought that I was always so well dressed, and so much more mature than all of the young boys her own age.
“But I have no idea what Kristie would think, if she knew that you and I are playing a college hogtie game in your bedroom right now….” Brenda told me, then she got back to questioning me about how she was supposed to tie me up, and what she was supposed to do next.
“First I need to tie your wrists behind your back, right? Is that how the game is supposed to be played?” she asked, and I knew that I had to look pretty silly, as I lay there, face down on my king sized bed, with Brenda straddled heavily on the backs of my upper thighs. If anyone had walked into my room right then and found us in that position, it would have appeared as if Brenda and I were wrestling, and I was losing.
And at that moment, it sure seemed like that to me, because the way that Brenda had my wrists twisted high up behind my back, it definitely felt as if Brenda had me emphatically pinned, using a very decisive wrestling hold.
It should be pointed out, however, that one of the reasons that I had become so fixated on Brenda in the first place, was that I had imagined her to be a strong and physically capable woman, a woman who could overpower me and tie me up. And now that she was mounted squarely on top of me on my bed, she was proving to be even more powerful, and even more physically capable, than I had ever expected her to be. In fact, her grip around my wrists was so tight and so incapacitating, that I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to pull either of my wrists loose, no matter how hard I tried.
But it wasn’t just Brenda’s upper body strength that was quickly becoming evident to me, because as she was clenching her husky inner thighs together against my sides, I could feel the firmness and the raw power of Brenda’s entire lower torso, not only in her long, well built legs, but in her flared hips and her wide bottom as well. And I could feel that firmness, and that raw feminine power, even through the material of the knee length skirt that Brenda was wearing.
I guess what was most intimidating for me, however, was that while Brenda was straddled so emphatically on top of me like that, and pinning my wrists behind my back so aggressively, she was staring coldly down at me, as if she could hardly contain her deep hostility towards me, hostility that I suppose was understandable, given how I had been constantly disrespecting her and bossing her around, during the entire week since I’d returned home from college.
And I suppose that I had antagonized her even more by having just minutes earlier talked down to her, when I had arrogantly reminded her that she was just a housecleaner who had never been to college.
“So I need to tie your wrists behind your back first, right? That’s how we play this game, isn’t it?” she repeated in an impatient tone, and although I had some trouble talking to Brenda from my face down position, I nonetheless gave Brenda a few quick pointers on how to loop and then crossloop the rope several times around my wrists, just as I had so often watched my college roommate tie his girlfriend’s wrists.
But then as I started to explain how she should tie my ankles together in the same fashion, Brenda cut me off in midsentence.
“You need to stop talking now…..” she snapped down at me, adding that even though she’d never tied anyone up before, she didn’t require any further explanation from me, since tying my ankles sounded exactly the same as tying my wrists. And besides, she was expecting Kristie soon, so she didn’t have a lot of time to waste with me. We needed to hurry up and start our “hogtie” game, she told me, and I remember thinking that Brenda was speaking a bit too sharply to me, and in a decidedly critical tone of voice.
“So you need to be quiet ……. I have to tie your wrists behind your back now…….” she continued, and she proceeded to do just that, tie my wrists that is, with no hesitation whatsoever.
I could feel Brenda slide her long legs upward along my hips, until she was squeezing her knees against my waist. Then she suddenly adjusted her grips, so that she was using one of her hands to tentatively clinch my forearms together, while her free hand began to hastily loop a strip of rope several times around both my wrists.
Following the directions that I had just given her, Brenda was proving to be a surprisingly quick learner, starting with the several swift loops around my wrists, followed by a number of crossloops in the other direction. Then Brenda tied several knots, each of which felt especially tight.
After she finished binding my wrists together, she completely reversed her straddle position on the backs of my upper legs, so that I could feel Brenda’s knees now clamped tightly against the outsides of my lower thighs, which served to effectively pin my legs together. At the same time, her large, skirt covered bottom was pressing downwards against my bound wrists, mashing them down against my lower back.
Brenda was now seated firmly on top of me, facing my feet, and it was from that reversed position that she reached down and proceeded to remove my shoes and my socks. Casually tossing each of the items over onto the floor away from my bed, she informed me that she thought that she could tie my ankles better, if my socks weren’t in the way, and if my trouser legs were rolled up away from my ankles.
That was how I found myself barefooted and now wearing just my short sleeve shirt and my light summer slacks, with the pants legs rolled up to just above my calves.
“Now I have to tie your ankles together, right? That’s how I’m supposed to play the game, isn’t it?” Brenda asked me, but she was in such a hurry to start tying, that she didn’t even wait for me to answer her questions.
“Stop fidgeting so much ….. My goodness, you’re sensitive….” she chided me, as she was tying my ankles together with a second strip of rope. She followed the same process as she had used on my wrists, winding several taut loops around my ankles, followed by five or six really tight crossloops, then a series of secure knots, one on top of the other.
But now that Brenda had removed my footware and had rolled my trouser legs up to just below my knees, Brenda’s hands and fingers were brushing repeatedly against the bare skin of my ankles and feet.
Looking back, I really don’t know if Brenda was deliberately taking her time as she tied my ankles, but it sure seemed like it, because her unhurried touching and feeling of my exposed lower legs was indeed causing me to fidget and twitch a lot, quite a lot. And I definitely was feeling very sensitive to the soft touch of Brenda’s roaming fingers, just as Brenda said that I was.
With my wrists already tied behind my back, however, and with Brenda mounted so emphatically on top of me, pinning my legs tightly together with her knees, I had to just lay there in my face down position, unable to move my lower legs out of Brenda’s long reach. So as Brenda was busy tying my ankles together, the tips of her fingers continued to brush lightly against my bared skin.
“Oh, my! You sure are fidgeting a lot……… You really are a very sensitive young man, aren’t you?” Brenda again pointed out, and when my twitching became even more noticeable, Brenda said something that sounded like a distinct forewarning of things yet to come:
“The way you’re fidgeting around so much, I have a feeling that you’re going to turn out to be extremely ticklish …… Which should prove to be very interesting……” she told me, and it was then that I realized that I didn’t mind being tied up by Brenda, but I definitely didn’t think that I wanted to be tickled by her.
Because I understood that if I was this overly sensitive to Brenda simply brushing up against my ankles while tying them together, how unbearable would it get if I were to lose a “hogtie game” to Brenda, and if Brenda were then allowed to impose the penalty of forcibly tickling me, against my will, while I was still hogtied.
But even though I was concerned about the prospect of being forcibly tickled, the sensations I was experiencing on that day were actually quite pleasant, for the most part.
You have to remember that in spite of all the times during my life that I had thought about being tied up, I’d never even once had my wrists bound, nor had I ever had my ankles tied together. So these sensations were brand new for me, to be lying face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles now tied together as well.
But although the feeling of being tied up was initially intriguing and pleasurable, it was also rather unsettling, because even on that first time that Brenda tied me up, on that first day of my second week at home, she tied my wrists behind my back uncomfortably tight, and she knotted my ankles together just as rigidly.
More importantly, she had done it almost entirely on her own initiative, and hadn’t really needed very much coaching from me at all. I remember that when I tried to tell her that she didn’t really need to tie my ankles quite that tight, she told me again in a stern voice that I needed to stop talking, because she understood exactly what she was supposed to do.
“……and if I have to tie the ropes a little too tight, to make sure that you can’t escape, and to make sure that I win the game, then that’s the point of tying you up, isn’t it? I’m supposed to win the game, right?” she asked me, then she told me that she had just now finished tying the final knots around my ankles, so it was too late to loosen that rope now anyway. Her statement gave me some relief, however, because I didn’t think I could take another second of her fingers brushing against my bare lower legs.
Then, from my limited side view, I watched as Brenda picked up a third strip of rope from the pile on the edge of my bed.
At that point, my wrists were securely tied behind my back, my ankles were laced together, and I was lying flat on my bed, in a prone, face down position. I knew that Brenda had done an extremely good job so far, because I felt completely helpless, and as I pulled softly on my wrists and ankles, the ropes seemed to be tied not just tight, but inescapably tight.
So I admit that I was more than a little nervous when Brenda announced that it was time to hogtie me “all the way”, as she put it.
And that’s when we heard the sound of the doorbell ringing.
“That must be Kristie…….” Brenda announced, matter-of-factly telling me that she had to go and talk to her young friend. But she assured me that as soon as she was done, she would immediately return to my bedroom, so that she could hogtie my wrists to my ankles.
“And don’t you dare think that just because Kristie interrupted us, you’re going to get out of playing our game all the way through to the end ……. As soon as I’m done talking to Kristie, I’m coming right back to this bedroom, and you are going to be hogtied good and tight…..” she promised, adding that she was then going to leave me hogtied on my bed, while she did her housework.
“………and you’ll have all day to try to escape…..” she told me, then she hurried out of my bedroom to go to the front door to talk to Kristie.
But on her way out of my room, Brenda said something that showed me that she was perhaps developing a bit of a mischievous side to her decidedly stern and serious personality.
“I think I’ll leave your bedroom door open, but don’t worry, I probably won’t be bringing Kristie to your room ..….. at least not today anyway ……. But we’ll see……..” Brenda told me, adding that she still needed to feel Kristie out on the matter of my college hogtie game, since she wouldn’t want to shock Kristie too much.
But suddenly, I could envision a thoroughly embarrassing twist being added into my summer activities, if Brenda was serious about bringing Kristie to look in on me in my bedroom, either on that particular day, or at some future time.
After Brenda left my room, I tried not to fret too much about Brenda deliberately leaving my bedroom door wide open, because tied up on my bed as I was, I knew that I couldn’t do anything about it anyway.
But there was one advantage to having my door open, because I could hear the distinct sounds of female voices, as Brenda and Kristie chatted just outside the front door of our house. Despite the significant difference in their ages, the two of them were becoming good friends, who enjoyed talking with each other, several times every day. So whenever Kristie would get bored at her house, she would tell her mother that she was coming over to talk to Brenda, then she would dash over to my house and ring the doorbell.
As I lay there listening to the two female voices at my front door, I guess it was understandable that I was feeling a certain uneasiness over what was yet to come that day. But I nonetheless couldn’t deny that the tightness of the ropes around my wrists and ankles felt inexplicably exciting, and even kind of invigorating. In fact, I don’t think that I’d ever felt more invigorated.
Maybe that was why I started to pull ever so softly on my securely bound wrists and ankles, so that I could reinforce the impression of complete helplessness. Which in turn, seemed to further stoke the involuntary thrill that was gradually building deep inside of me.
But then as I continued to lay there, I found myself momentarily thinking about what Brenda and Kristie might be talking about, as the two of them stood just outside the front door of our house.
I wondered if Brenda and Kristie were talking about me, and I remember that I got a case of the goosebumps, as I thought about how Kristie might react if she were to walk into my bedroom and see me tied up as I was now, face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted together behind my back, and with my ankles tied tightly together.
And my case of goosebumps became even more pronounced, when I tried to imagine an even worse situation, that is, if Brenda were to bring Kristie to my bedroom, while Brenda had me In a full hogtie, or hogtied “all the way”, as Brenda liked to refer to it.
As I lay there that day, all kinds of thoughts were going through my mind, and I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t stop tugging on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, which continued to fuel my rising excitement.
And for some reason that I didn’t fully understand, I didn’t want to stop what I was doing, because the combination of having my wrists tied behind my back, and having my ankles tied together, was causing sensations in me that were unlike any that I’d ever before felt. It was the first time that I had ever been tied up, and the ropes were looped and crosslooped so snugly around my wrists and ankles, and they felt so tight, and so very secure.
So I guess it was on that day that I came to appreciate, all too well, why some people enjoy being tied up. Because I continued to get more stirred up, even as I found myself worrying about Kristie walking in on me, and even as I grew more and more nervous about Brenda’s warning to me that she would be returning to my bedroom to hogtie me “good and tight”.
Brenda had issued other warnings to me as well that day, like how she fully expected that she would not only be able to win our game, but that she would be able to collect the penalties from me afterwards. Because unlike my college girlfriend, Brenda was certain that she would be able to hogtie me properly, so that I would stay tied up all day long.
It was that particular set of warnings from Brenda that I ended up focusing on, as I lay there face down on my bed, awaiting Brenda’s return to my bedroom. I kept trying to reassure myself that I would be able to escape from Brenda’s hogtie, so I wouldn’t have to pay the two different penalties to Brenda.
But as I thought about Brenda, and Kristie, and as I continued to pull softly on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, my level of involuntary excitement continued to escalate, until it felt like I was reaching a point where, if I wasn’t careful, there was a chance that my excitement might abruptly spiral out of control.
So there I was, lying face down on my bed with my wrists bound behind my back, and with my ankles tied together. After tying my wrists, Brenda had taken it on her own initiative to remove my shoes and socks, then she had rolled my trouser legs all the way up past my calves, which she had claimed would allow her to better tie my ankles.
But my suspicion was that she had bared my lower legs, just so she could find out how sensitive I was to the touch of her fingertips. I say that because Brenda had taken an excessive amount of time tying my ankles, allowing her fingertips to linger against my bare skin for a little too long.
I had begun to squirm around underneath Brenda as she straddled me, prompting her to remark about how overly sensitive I seemed to be. So Brenda and I had found out that I was in fact especially sensitive to the touch, something that I wasn’t aware of before that day.
Brenda had gone on to tell me that she had a feeling that I might turn out to be “extremely ticklish”, which should prove to be “very” interesting for her.
Shortly after that, our doorbell had rung, and Brenda had left me there on my bed, so she could go to the front door. And that’s where Brenda had stayed for some ten minutes, talking to my young neighbor Kristie, who according to Brenda, had a big schoolgirl crush on me.
Looking back now, I recall very clearly that I was feeling a growing amount of nervousness, even a tinge of fear, not only because I had discovered how extremely ticklish I might turn out to be, but because this wasn’t going quite like I had expected it to.
What I mean is, I guess that I’d been figuring that if Brenda and I were to play some sort of bondage game, that I would have a certain amount of control, so that I would be able to prevent my situation from getting too far out of hand. And I also assumed that I would be able to stop the game, if I wanted to.
But that was definitely not the case on that Monday, not at all, because since the moment that Brenda had first climbed on top of me and had twisted my wrists behind my back, she had been totally in command, and I never felt as if I had anything to say about it.
And as far as me being able to stop the game, I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to do that either. Brenda was clearly in charge, and from her strict personality, I was by that point fully aware that there was no way that she would let me stop the game, after it had started.
Brenda had proven to be a strongminded, physically capable woman, a woman who had demonstrated that she was not just good at tying someone up, but was a little too obsessive when it came to using rope. She seemed to be trying to make sure that every single loop, and every single crossloop, was not just perfectly wound, but extremely snug around my wrists and my ankles.
More importantly, she was doing her best to ensure that every knot was tight and out of my reach. She had even told me that her goal was to do exactly that, hide the knots out my reach, as she had tied each of the ropes.
And Brenda was clearly successful in her efforts, because as I lay there, I really felt like I was completely helpless and unable to free myself. Not only did the ropes around my wrists and ankles feel very tight, and very expertly wound, but I had tried a few times to reach the knots tying my wrists, and I had been unable to make any progress at all in untying them. I couldn’t even find the knots with my fingers, so Brenda had in fact done a good job of hiding them out of the reach of either of my hands.
And as far as me having a certain amount of control, I couldn’t even take charge of my own involuntary excitement, which I had been unable to contain, during the time that Brenda had been at the front door, talking to Kristie.
I had been laying there on my bed, tugging on my wrists and ankles, but the ropes felt especially tight, and there was no play in the ropes at all. The odd sensations had started to build slowly inside of me, and I guess that I was enjoying the feelings so much, that I didn’t even see it coming. I was continuing to pull on my bindings, and I was starting to think that I really wouldn’t be able to escape, because the ropes felt so tight and secure.
Then I started thinking about Kristie, and about Brenda, and as I kept pulling on my tightly bound wrists to try to reach the knots, I couldn’t help but marvel over how good Brenda had turned out to be with rope. My involuntary excitement had continued to build, until all of a sudden, it had happened, and I had been unable to do anything to prevent it. My midsection began to shudder uncontrollably, and the next twenty or thirty seconds were all a blurry whirlwind of frenzied activity, followed by another period where I just lay there, breathing really hard.
What made the situation all the more delicate, was that sometime during the early stages, Brenda had walked back into my bedroom through my open doorway, and had stood there quietly, at the foot of my bed. She hadn’t said a word but she had instead stood there watching in total silence, from the time that I had lost control, until I was lying there completely motionless afterwards.
So she had seen everything, all the way up until my heavy breathing had completely died down and had returned to normal.
Only then did Brenda finally speak, and her voice startled me, because I hadn’t known that she was standing there at the foot of my bed watching.
“I saw that ………. I saw you squirming around with your wrists tied behind your back, and then it looked like you were rubbing yourself against your mattress, as I walked in …… and now you’re lying there so calm and relaxed. And your face is bright red and all blushy looking ….… Did you do what I think you just did?” Brenda asked me, with a definite look of repulsion now on her face.
But there was also a faint hint of fascination, that a college male would even think of doing such a thing while he was lying face down on his bed, with his wrists bound tightly behind his back, and with his ankles tied together.
“….. I suspected that you liked being tied up, but I had no idea that you enjoyed it this much …….but at least I know that I must have tied you up the right way….” Brenda told me, and I remember that I wanted to tell Brenda that I couldn’t help it, that I had lost control.
And I wanted to tell her that it was because of the way that she had tied me, with my wrists knotted so snugly behind my back, and with my ankles bound just as tightly as my wrists. But I knew that I couldn’t really tell her that, particularly since Brenda looked so appalled about what she had witnessed when she had walked into my bedroom.
So I said nothing to Brenda, because I felt like a little boy who had just been caught doing something that I wasn’t supposed to be doing. And besides, I felt really silly, lying there face down, and tied up like I was, as I peered back up over my shoulders at Brenda. My face was, as Brenda noted, “bright red and blushy”, and I don’t think I’d ever felt more embarrassed.
Which was why I wasn’t saying a word, because I didn’t know what to say.
But Brenda didn’t really wait for me to answer anyway, and she went on to tell me that since she now knew that I had a fondness for pleasuring myself in such a disgusting way, she might consider doing a small favor for me. Which was that each day when we played our “hogtie game”, after she tied my wrists and ankles, and before she put me into a full hogtie, she might consider leaving me lying face down on my bed in that position, with my wrists tied behind my back and with my ankles tied together. Then she would give me ten or fifteen minutes of privacy, before she hogtied me all the way.
She would go and do one of her chores, and that would give me an opportunity each day to indulge myself, and get it out of my system. So that she and I could get on with our hogtie game, without her having my worry about my masculine needs interfering with our game.
And while she left me tied up, she would do something like scrub the kitchen floor, since she knew that I seemed to enjoy watching her do that. So I could think of her scrubbing the kitchen floor, as I lay face down on my bed and indulged myself. Or so Brenda was now telling me, so calmly, as if were an entirely reasonable favor that our housekeeper might be doing for me.
She most certainly didn’t approve of what she was now referring to as my “disgusting” habit, however, and she told me that under no circumstance could we tell my mother, as my mother would most definitely not condone such activity on my part.
But it was at that point that Brenda announced that we had talked for long enough. “Ok, you need to be hogtied, so I can start my housework…… ” she told me, then she grabbed a third strip of rope from the pile and announced that she was now going to tether my wrists to my ankles. She even used that word, tether. She was going to tether my wrists to my ankles.
At that point in my life, I don’t think that I’d ever before heard that word, but it was apparently a word that Brenda knew from her childhood, having to do with “tethering” a dog to a tree, or something like that.
But the word seemed foreboding to me, particularly in the way that Brenda was continuing to so freely apply that word to my situation. Her exact opening line was that she was going to fasten one end of the tether rope around my ankle rope. Then she advised me that she was looping the other end of the tether rope inside the rope that was binding my wrists.
And she was then going to pull the two ends together, to remove all slack in the rope and bring my ankles all the way up against my wrists.
After all my years of imagining what it would be like, I was now experiencing it firsthand, being hogtied, that is. With my wrists knotted tightly together behind my back, and with my ankles bound snugly together as well, Brenda was now casually referring to “tethering my wrists to my ankles”, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for a cleaning woman in her 30’s to be doing to a college male, and in that college male’s bedroom no less. But that’s exactly what was happening.
Brenda was moving more rapidly now, as she proceeded to use her knee to press down hard against the backs of my lower thighs. At the same moment, she yanked on the tether rope to quickly raise my bound ankles all the way up into a ninety degree angle off the mattress. Then she began to force my feet past the ninety degree point, and downwards towards my bottom, until my legs were bent at the knees and doubled all the way over, with my heels now nearly touching the backs of my thighs.
In the next instant, Brenda spun herself around, so that she was straddling my folded back legs, using her considerable weight against my shins to force my heels to sink even further downward, in the direction of my bound wrists.
Still moving quickly, Brenda tentatively laced the two ends of the tether rope together, then she began to jerk hard on the two ends of that rope as she began the process of reducing the slack in the rope, inch by inch by inch.
So while Brenda was using her substantial weight to keep me securely pinned in a face down position, she proceeded to yank really hard on the two ends of the tether rope that was connecting my ankles to my wrists. She yanked really hard, first once, and then a second time, and then a third time, removing the remaining slack in the rope, while forcefully yet painstakingly ratcheting my bound ankles further downward, bringing them nearer and nearer to my knotted together wrists.
Brenda was proving to be so much stronger than I had imagined, and she was unquestionably better with rope than I had ever expected her to be. It was the first time that I had ever been tied up, and although another round of involuntary excitement was now starting to build up inside of me, it was also becoming more than a little frightening, because with each forceful cranking motion of the two ends of the tether rope, not only were my ankles being forced closer and closer to my wrists, but the bindings around my wrists and ankles seemed to be becoming tighter as well. And for the very first time in my life, I was starting to feel not only exceedingly uncomfortable, but really and truly helpless, with absolutely no control over the situation, none whatsoever.
I was beginning to feel so uncomfortable, in fact, and so helpless, that at the very last moment, I guess I panicked, and I abruptly began to flail and thrash around, pulling on my bound wrists and ankles with everything I had, trying at the last minute to somehow pull free from my increasingly imminent hogtie.
But it was too late for that, not only because my legs were folded all the way over and the hogtying of my wrists to my ankles was almost completed, but because Brenda seemed to realize that I was all of a sudden having second thoughts, and she was having none of that. She was fully intent on putting me into a hogtie, and at that point, there was no way that she was about to let me get free.
So even as I began to frantically jerk and twist on my bound wrists and ankles, Brenda proceeded to grind down even harder with all of her considerable weight, keeping me securely pinned with my legs doubled all the way over, and with my feet bent all the way down towards my lower back.
“Stop trying to pull free! You’re going to be hogtied, whether you want to be or not! I can’t have you following me around the house and pestering me all day….” Brenda rebuked me in a stern tone, adding that when Kristie came by again a little bit later, Brenda didn’t want me trying to lecture her about talking with Kristie for too long.
“……..but if you’re hogtied good and tight, in a nice neat package right here on your bed, then I won’t have to worry about that, will I? …….. So we are going to play your little college rope game, and there’s no way I’m going to let you try to quit now! So stop struggling and lie still while I finish hogtying you!” she grunted down at me, just as she yanked really hard on the tether rope one last time, which brought my ankles all the way down against my wrists, so that there was now no slack remaining between my ankles and my wrists, none at all.
More importantly, my resistance was now completely stifled, so there was nothing I could do except lie there powerlessly beneath Brenda’s full female weight, as she began to tie a series of knots in the tether rope, enthusiastically tying each knot tightly on top of the other.
It might have been the first time that she had ever hogtied someone, but she was a frighteningly quick learner, and she turned out to be extremely good at it, even on that first time. The tether rope was hitched all the way tight between my wrist rope and my ankle rope, and the knots seemed to be very securely tied. I began to squirm around a little bit, to see if all of the bindings were as constricting and as uncomfortable as they seemed to be.
And to my dismay, I quickly realized that not only were the ropes around my wrists and ankles very effectively and very snugly wound, but the connecting tether rope was yoked very, very tight. My wrists felt like they were hitched right up against my ankles, with my palms pressed right up against my heels, with absolutely no slack whatsoever. I couldn’t move at all, and as I peered back up over my shoulder at Brenda, I could see that she looked as if she were still really irritated with me, even as she was just finishing the last of several very tight knots, to finalize my hogtie.
“Ok ……. Now let’s see which of us wins this rope game, you or me……” Brenda told me, as she climbed up off of me and stood at the side of my bed, staring coldly down at me, with her hands placed firmly on her wide hips. Then she told me that I had all day to try to escape.
But Brenda went on to once again inform me that she fully intended to not only win the game, but to extract the required penalties from me. Because she was quite confident that I would stay tied up not only until she finished her work day at 4pm, but all the way through the penalty phase as well, a penalty phase that Brenda was fully intent on enforcing.
Not only that, but Brenda assured me that she would be sure to tickle me aggressively and without mercy. Now that she knew how overly sensitive I was to the touch of her fingers, she was looking forward to forcibly tickling me, or so she told me, adding that given how extremely ticklish I seemed to be, she was fully expecting that a prolonged tickling would teach me a lesson that I would not soon forget.
“…..and don’t worry, when Mrs. McCauley comes by to talk, I won’t tell her that you and I are playing a college rope game today, and that you’re in your bedroom, hogtied nice and tight on your bed, trying to free yourself, to avoid having to pay the game’s penalties to me…….” Brenda noted, adding that if my mother were to call home, as she did occasionally during the day to talk to me, or to give instructions to Brenda, we probably shouldn’t tell her either.
“…….because we wouldn’t want your mother to get the wrong idea about the rope game that you and I are playing, while the two of us are alone in the house all day……” Brenda told me, and I couldn’t help but think that Brenda sure seemed to comprehend, in an almost childish way, that there was something highly improper about what she kept calling my “hogtie” game. And she sure seemed to enjoy repeatedly invoking the names of Kristie, Mrs. McCauley, and my mom, in my presence, as if she were well aware of how embarrassing it would be if any of the three females were ever to walk in and discover me, either while I was hogtied, or even worse, during the process of being forcibly tickled against my will, while I was hogtied.
But speaking of Kristie, Brenda noted that she’d be back in about an hour, for her second chat of the day with Brenda. “…….and If you haven’t untied yourself from your hogtie by then, I might go ahead and tell Kristie that you and I are playing a college hogtie game, and I’ll ask her if she wants to come to your bedroom to see which one of us is winning , and which one of us is losing……..”
Suddenly, the goosebumps that I had experienced earlier were back, as I tried to imagine what Kristie would say to both Brenda and to me, if Brenda really did bring Kristie to my bedroom, while I was laying there on my bed, with my ankles hogtied to my wrists like they were.
And what if Kristie stood there and watched for an indefinite period of time, as I continued to lie there, unable to escape.
As I began to wriggle feebly against my mattress, I shuddered at the thought of what that 3 way conversation would be like, with me helplessly hogtied on my bed, peering sheepishly up at Brenda and Kristie, while the three of us made small talk. I could almost picture Kristie and Brenda standing on the side of my bed, with young Kristie gazing up at her friend Brenda, with a look of awe in her eyes. Then Kristie would look down at me, at my decidedly undignified pose on the bed, and she would undoubtedly grimace.
“But I’m glad that you decided to tell me all about your little hogtie game …… Now that I know that it’s a game that you like to play every day, and now that I know how much ‘fun’ you have indulging your masculine needs when you’re tied up, I think I’m going to enjoy playing this game with you ……… In fact, I think it’s going to be especially useful to me this summer, to keep you occupied and out of my hair while I work…..” Brenda told me, and as I began to writhe around on the bed, trying to reach the knots around my wrists, I remember wondering what in the world had I talked Brenda into.
But my suspicion was that she had bared my lower legs, just so she could find out how sensitive I was to the touch of her fingertips. I say that because Brenda had taken an excessive amount of time tying my ankles, allowing her fingertips to linger against my bare skin for a little too long.
I had begun to squirm around underneath Brenda as she straddled me, prompting her to remark about how overly sensitive I seemed to be. So Brenda and I had found out that I was in fact especially sensitive to the touch, something that I wasn’t aware of before that day.
Brenda had gone on to tell me that she had a feeling that I might turn out to be “extremely ticklish”, which should prove to be “very” interesting for her.
Shortly after that, our doorbell had rung, and Brenda had left me there on my bed, so she could go to the front door. And that’s where Brenda had stayed for some ten minutes, talking to my young neighbor Kristie, who according to Brenda, had a big schoolgirl crush on me.
Looking back now, I recall very clearly that I was feeling a growing amount of nervousness, even a tinge of fear, not only because I had discovered how extremely ticklish I might turn out to be, but because this wasn’t going quite like I had expected it to.
What I mean is, I guess that I’d been figuring that if Brenda and I were to play some sort of bondage game, that I would have a certain amount of control, so that I would be able to prevent my situation from getting too far out of hand. And I also assumed that I would be able to stop the game, if I wanted to.
But that was definitely not the case on that Monday, not at all, because since the moment that Brenda had first climbed on top of me and had twisted my wrists behind my back, she had been totally in command, and I never felt as if I had anything to say about it.
And as far as me being able to stop the game, I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to do that either. Brenda was clearly in charge, and from her strict personality, I was by that point fully aware that there was no way that she would let me stop the game, after it had started.
Brenda had proven to be a strongminded, physically capable woman, a woman who had demonstrated that she was not just good at tying someone up, but was a little too obsessive when it came to using rope. She seemed to be trying to make sure that every single loop, and every single crossloop, was not just perfectly wound, but extremely snug around my wrists and my ankles.
More importantly, she was doing her best to ensure that every knot was tight and out of my reach. She had even told me that her goal was to do exactly that, hide the knots out my reach, as she had tied each of the ropes.
And Brenda was clearly successful in her efforts, because as I lay there, I really felt like I was completely helpless and unable to free myself. Not only did the ropes around my wrists and ankles feel very tight, and very expertly wound, but I had tried a few times to reach the knots tying my wrists, and I had been unable to make any progress at all in untying them. I couldn’t even find the knots with my fingers, so Brenda had in fact done a good job of hiding them out of the reach of either of my hands.
And as far as me having a certain amount of control, I couldn’t even take charge of my own involuntary excitement, which I had been unable to contain, during the time that Brenda had been at the front door, talking to Kristie.
I had been laying there on my bed, tugging on my wrists and ankles, but the ropes felt especially tight, and there was no play in the ropes at all. The odd sensations had started to build slowly inside of me, and I guess that I was enjoying the feelings so much, that I didn’t even see it coming. I was continuing to pull on my bindings, and I was starting to think that I really wouldn’t be able to escape, because the ropes felt so tight and secure.
Then I started thinking about Kristie, and about Brenda, and as I kept pulling on my tightly bound wrists to try to reach the knots, I couldn’t help but marvel over how good Brenda had turned out to be with rope. My involuntary excitement had continued to build, until all of a sudden, it had happened, and I had been unable to do anything to prevent it. My midsection began to shudder uncontrollably, and the next twenty or thirty seconds were all a blurry whirlwind of frenzied activity, followed by another period where I just lay there, breathing really hard.
What made the situation all the more delicate, was that sometime during the early stages, Brenda had walked back into my bedroom through my open doorway, and had stood there quietly, at the foot of my bed. She hadn’t said a word but she had instead stood there watching in total silence, from the time that I had lost control, until I was lying there completely motionless afterwards.
So she had seen everything, all the way up until my heavy breathing had completely died down and had returned to normal.
Only then did Brenda finally speak, and her voice startled me, because I hadn’t known that she was standing there at the foot of my bed watching.
“I saw that ………. I saw you squirming around with your wrists tied behind your back, and then it looked like you were rubbing yourself against your mattress, as I walked in …… and now you’re lying there so calm and relaxed. And your face is bright red and all blushy looking ….… Did you do what I think you just did?” Brenda asked me, with a definite look of repulsion now on her face.
But there was also a faint hint of fascination, that a college male would even think of doing such a thing while he was lying face down on his bed, with his wrists bound tightly behind his back, and with his ankles tied together.
“….. I suspected that you liked being tied up, but I had no idea that you enjoyed it this much …….but at least I know that I must have tied you up the right way….” Brenda told me, and I remember that I wanted to tell Brenda that I couldn’t help it, that I had lost control.
And I wanted to tell her that it was because of the way that she had tied me, with my wrists knotted so snugly behind my back, and with my ankles bound just as tightly as my wrists. But I knew that I couldn’t really tell her that, particularly since Brenda looked so appalled about what she had witnessed when she had walked into my bedroom.
So I said nothing to Brenda, because I felt like a little boy who had just been caught doing something that I wasn’t supposed to be doing. And besides, I felt really silly, lying there face down, and tied up like I was, as I peered back up over my shoulders at Brenda. My face was, as Brenda noted, “bright red and blushy”, and I don’t think I’d ever felt more embarrassed.
Which was why I wasn’t saying a word, because I didn’t know what to say.
But Brenda didn’t really wait for me to answer anyway, and she went on to tell me that since she now knew that I had a fondness for pleasuring myself in such a disgusting way, she might consider doing a small favor for me. Which was that each day when we played our “hogtie game”, after she tied my wrists and ankles, and before she put me into a full hogtie, she might consider leaving me lying face down on my bed in that position, with my wrists tied behind my back and with my ankles tied together. Then she would give me ten or fifteen minutes of privacy, before she hogtied me all the way.
She would go and do one of her chores, and that would give me an opportunity each day to indulge myself, and get it out of my system. So that she and I could get on with our hogtie game, without her having my worry about my masculine needs interfering with our game.
And while she left me tied up, she would do something like scrub the kitchen floor, since she knew that I seemed to enjoy watching her do that. So I could think of her scrubbing the kitchen floor, as I lay face down on my bed and indulged myself. Or so Brenda was now telling me, so calmly, as if were an entirely reasonable favor that our housekeeper might be doing for me.
She most certainly didn’t approve of what she was now referring to as my “disgusting” habit, however, and she told me that under no circumstance could we tell my mother, as my mother would most definitely not condone such activity on my part.
But it was at that point that Brenda announced that we had talked for long enough. “Ok, you need to be hogtied, so I can start my housework…… ” she told me, then she grabbed a third strip of rope from the pile and announced that she was now going to tether my wrists to my ankles. She even used that word, tether. She was going to tether my wrists to my ankles.
At that point in my life, I don’t think that I’d ever before heard that word, but it was apparently a word that Brenda knew from her childhood, having to do with “tethering” a dog to a tree, or something like that.
But the word seemed foreboding to me, particularly in the way that Brenda was continuing to so freely apply that word to my situation. Her exact opening line was that she was going to fasten one end of the tether rope around my ankle rope. Then she advised me that she was looping the other end of the tether rope inside the rope that was binding my wrists.
And she was then going to pull the two ends together, to remove all slack in the rope and bring my ankles all the way up against my wrists.
After all my years of imagining what it would be like, I was now experiencing it firsthand, being hogtied, that is. With my wrists knotted tightly together behind my back, and with my ankles bound snugly together as well, Brenda was now casually referring to “tethering my wrists to my ankles”, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for a cleaning woman in her 30’s to be doing to a college male, and in that college male’s bedroom no less. But that’s exactly what was happening.
Brenda was moving more rapidly now, as she proceeded to use her knee to press down hard against the backs of my lower thighs. At the same moment, she yanked on the tether rope to quickly raise my bound ankles all the way up into a ninety degree angle off the mattress. Then she began to force my feet past the ninety degree point, and downwards towards my bottom, until my legs were bent at the knees and doubled all the way over, with my heels now nearly touching the backs of my thighs.
In the next instant, Brenda spun herself around, so that she was straddling my folded back legs, using her considerable weight against my shins to force my heels to sink even further downward, in the direction of my bound wrists.
Still moving quickly, Brenda tentatively laced the two ends of the tether rope together, then she began to jerk hard on the two ends of that rope as she began the process of reducing the slack in the rope, inch by inch by inch.
So while Brenda was using her substantial weight to keep me securely pinned in a face down position, she proceeded to yank really hard on the two ends of the tether rope that was connecting my ankles to my wrists. She yanked really hard, first once, and then a second time, and then a third time, removing the remaining slack in the rope, while forcefully yet painstakingly ratcheting my bound ankles further downward, bringing them nearer and nearer to my knotted together wrists.
Brenda was proving to be so much stronger than I had imagined, and she was unquestionably better with rope than I had ever expected her to be. It was the first time that I had ever been tied up, and although another round of involuntary excitement was now starting to build up inside of me, it was also becoming more than a little frightening, because with each forceful cranking motion of the two ends of the tether rope, not only were my ankles being forced closer and closer to my wrists, but the bindings around my wrists and ankles seemed to be becoming tighter as well. And for the very first time in my life, I was starting to feel not only exceedingly uncomfortable, but really and truly helpless, with absolutely no control over the situation, none whatsoever.
I was beginning to feel so uncomfortable, in fact, and so helpless, that at the very last moment, I guess I panicked, and I abruptly began to flail and thrash around, pulling on my bound wrists and ankles with everything I had, trying at the last minute to somehow pull free from my increasingly imminent hogtie.
But it was too late for that, not only because my legs were folded all the way over and the hogtying of my wrists to my ankles was almost completed, but because Brenda seemed to realize that I was all of a sudden having second thoughts, and she was having none of that. She was fully intent on putting me into a hogtie, and at that point, there was no way that she was about to let me get free.
So even as I began to frantically jerk and twist on my bound wrists and ankles, Brenda proceeded to grind down even harder with all of her considerable weight, keeping me securely pinned with my legs doubled all the way over, and with my feet bent all the way down towards my lower back.
“Stop trying to pull free! You’re going to be hogtied, whether you want to be or not! I can’t have you following me around the house and pestering me all day….” Brenda rebuked me in a stern tone, adding that when Kristie came by again a little bit later, Brenda didn’t want me trying to lecture her about talking with Kristie for too long.
“……..but if you’re hogtied good and tight, in a nice neat package right here on your bed, then I won’t have to worry about that, will I? …….. So we are going to play your little college rope game, and there’s no way I’m going to let you try to quit now! So stop struggling and lie still while I finish hogtying you!” she grunted down at me, just as she yanked really hard on the tether rope one last time, which brought my ankles all the way down against my wrists, so that there was now no slack remaining between my ankles and my wrists, none at all.
More importantly, my resistance was now completely stifled, so there was nothing I could do except lie there powerlessly beneath Brenda’s full female weight, as she began to tie a series of knots in the tether rope, enthusiastically tying each knot tightly on top of the other.
It might have been the first time that she had ever hogtied someone, but she was a frighteningly quick learner, and she turned out to be extremely good at it, even on that first time. The tether rope was hitched all the way tight between my wrist rope and my ankle rope, and the knots seemed to be very securely tied. I began to squirm around a little bit, to see if all of the bindings were as constricting and as uncomfortable as they seemed to be.
And to my dismay, I quickly realized that not only were the ropes around my wrists and ankles very effectively and very snugly wound, but the connecting tether rope was yoked very, very tight. My wrists felt like they were hitched right up against my ankles, with my palms pressed right up against my heels, with absolutely no slack whatsoever. I couldn’t move at all, and as I peered back up over my shoulder at Brenda, I could see that she looked as if she were still really irritated with me, even as she was just finishing the last of several very tight knots, to finalize my hogtie.
“Ok ……. Now let’s see which of us wins this rope game, you or me……” Brenda told me, as she climbed up off of me and stood at the side of my bed, staring coldly down at me, with her hands placed firmly on her wide hips. Then she told me that I had all day to try to escape.
But Brenda went on to once again inform me that she fully intended to not only win the game, but to extract the required penalties from me. Because she was quite confident that I would stay tied up not only until she finished her work day at 4pm, but all the way through the penalty phase as well, a penalty phase that Brenda was fully intent on enforcing.
Not only that, but Brenda assured me that she would be sure to tickle me aggressively and without mercy. Now that she knew how overly sensitive I was to the touch of her fingers, she was looking forward to forcibly tickling me, or so she told me, adding that given how extremely ticklish I seemed to be, she was fully expecting that a prolonged tickling would teach me a lesson that I would not soon forget.
“…..and don’t worry, when Mrs. McCauley comes by to talk, I won’t tell her that you and I are playing a college rope game today, and that you’re in your bedroom, hogtied nice and tight on your bed, trying to free yourself, to avoid having to pay the game’s penalties to me…….” Brenda noted, adding that if my mother were to call home, as she did occasionally during the day to talk to me, or to give instructions to Brenda, we probably shouldn’t tell her either.
“…….because we wouldn’t want your mother to get the wrong idea about the rope game that you and I are playing, while the two of us are alone in the house all day……” Brenda told me, and I couldn’t help but think that Brenda sure seemed to comprehend, in an almost childish way, that there was something highly improper about what she kept calling my “hogtie” game. And she sure seemed to enjoy repeatedly invoking the names of Kristie, Mrs. McCauley, and my mom, in my presence, as if she were well aware of how embarrassing it would be if any of the three females were ever to walk in and discover me, either while I was hogtied, or even worse, during the process of being forcibly tickled against my will, while I was hogtied.
But speaking of Kristie, Brenda noted that she’d be back in about an hour, for her second chat of the day with Brenda. “…….and If you haven’t untied yourself from your hogtie by then, I might go ahead and tell Kristie that you and I are playing a college hogtie game, and I’ll ask her if she wants to come to your bedroom to see which one of us is winning , and which one of us is losing……..”
Suddenly, the goosebumps that I had experienced earlier were back, as I tried to imagine what Kristie would say to both Brenda and to me, if Brenda really did bring Kristie to my bedroom, while I was laying there on my bed, with my ankles hogtied to my wrists like they were.
And what if Kristie stood there and watched for an indefinite period of time, as I continued to lie there, unable to escape.
As I began to wriggle feebly against my mattress, I shuddered at the thought of what that 3 way conversation would be like, with me helplessly hogtied on my bed, peering sheepishly up at Brenda and Kristie, while the three of us made small talk. I could almost picture Kristie and Brenda standing on the side of my bed, with young Kristie gazing up at her friend Brenda, with a look of awe in her eyes. Then Kristie would look down at me, at my decidedly undignified pose on the bed, and she would undoubtedly grimace.
“But I’m glad that you decided to tell me all about your little hogtie game …… Now that I know that it’s a game that you like to play every day, and now that I know how much ‘fun’ you have indulging your masculine needs when you’re tied up, I think I’m going to enjoy playing this game with you ……… In fact, I think it’s going to be especially useful to me this summer, to keep you occupied and out of my hair while I work…..” Brenda told me, and as I began to writhe around on the bed, trying to reach the knots around my wrists, I remember wondering what in the world had I talked Brenda into.
That first time that Brenda hogtied me, on that Monday, just one week after my arrival home that summer, time seemed to be going by so slowly, probably because all the ropes felt so tight, and I felt so completely helpless.
Brenda had used three strips of rope to hogtie me, one strip of rope wound tightly around my wrists, a second strip wound just as tightly around my ankles, and a third strip, which Brenda called the “tether” rope, to hogtie my ankles to my wrists.
And since Brenda had hogtied me so effectively, there wasn’t anything that I could do, except to squirm around on my bed, as I used my fingers to try to find the end knots in either the tether rope, or in the rope that was binding my wrists. As the seconds continued to tick slowly by, I thought that Brenda would leave me and go start her housework, but she didn’t.
Instead, she stood there at the side of my bed, looking down on me and watching. Every so often, I would turn my gaze up towards her, and even though she was still frowning at me, I could tell that she was pleased to see me looking so helpless, and so uncomfortable. I remember thinking that she probably felt as if she were finally getting even with me, for all of the bossiness and disrespect that I’d subjected her to, since I’d returned home from college one week earlier.
I continued to try to reach for the end knots with my fingertips, and as time passed, my struggles intensified, as my fingers started to get sore. But I wasn’t making any progress, none at all. Brenda had managed to tie all of the knots in such a way that I couldn’t find them with my fingers.
So it wasn’t that long until I began to reflexively thrash around on my bed in frustration, trying to somehow relieve some of the increasing tension that I was feeling from the tightness of Brenda’s hogtie.
And it was definitely a tight and uncomfortable hogtie, that Brenda had put me in. When I had talked her into playing my game, I had never expected Brenda to be that good at tying me up. The ropes around my wrists and my ankles felt like they were tied just a little bit too tight, but most notably, it was what Brenda repeatedly referred to as the “tether” rope, that was the most distressing part of my hogtie. That was because the tether rope was drawn especially tight, so that my ankles were hitched directly against my wrists, with no play in the rope at all, none whatsoever.
So I guess that was why I continued to impulsively squirm and thrash around on my bed. But it didn’t do anything to loosen the ropes that were wound so tightly around my wrists and around my ankles. And each time that I would glance up at Brenda and she would momentarily lock her eyes with mine, I could swear that she was suppressing a triumphant smirk over the fact that her bindings were a little too tight, and were forcing me to thrash around on my bed in obvious discomfort.
Brenda clearly enjoyed seeing me squirming and wriggling around on my bed like I was.
But then, about 10 minutes into my hogtie, I thought that I saw a different type of smirk on Brenda’s face. That was when she once again reminded me that Kristie was due back in less than an hour, for her second visit of the day. And when Kristie returned, if our game was still going on, and if I was still hogtied on my bed, Brenda might just go ahead and inform Kristie all about my college rope game, or so Brenda was now telling me.
“Kristie has such a fondness for you, I think she might want to watch you playing your little hogtie game, especially when I tell her that you’ve been playing this game at college all year long, and you’re undefeated…..” Brenda noted, then Brenda informed me about something that concerned me even more.
Apparently, Kristie had told Brenda that during the summertime, a number if the neighborhood girls got together for overnighters at each other’s houses, during which I was one of the hot topics of discussion. Whether it was a slumber party involving multiple girls of different ages, or a two girl sleepover, my name would invariably come up, and all the girls would talk about how much they liked me.
But when Brenda revealed that to me, all I could think of was Kristie telling the girls at a sleepover about me playing some kind of a rope game with Brenda, a rope game in which I was the one who got hogtied, while Brenda was the one who was doing the tying.
And I could only imagine the excitement among all the girls at a neighborhood slumber party, if Kristie were to tell everyone that I had lost such a game to Brenda, and that Brenda had then collected the two penalties from me.
Brenda’s statements were making it increasingly clear to me, however, that Brenda was not only aware of how controversial our hogtie game was, but she also seemed to realize just how much embarrassment a “witness” might add to the activity that was going on In my bedroom. Particularly if that witness was an impressionable young girl such as my neighbor Kristie.
But as it turned out, I got lucky on that Monday, very lucky. Because I somehow managed to finally locate, and to ultimately untie, the end knot in the tether rope. I think it was just a fluke, a case of sheer luck, because Brenda had done such a good job of hiding every knot, especially the end knot. And Brenda had tied each of her knots so tight, that it was quite an accomplishment on my part, that I had managed to get the knot untied.
Even though my fingers were really tired by that point, I began to pick at that knot, and although it took me a full minute to untie that first knot, I then managed to undo each subsequent knot, one by one. Until eventually, I was able to use my increasingly sore and achy fingers to fully unravel the tether rope, which allowed my bound feet to flop listlessly back down to the mattress.
Another several minutes later, I managed to find and then pick the first knot free from my wrist rope, although it was extremely difficult to do so. Even then, I didn’t believe that I would escape, because I still had so many knots to go, and my fingers were by that point, getting really sore and tender.
But I continued to pick at the knots, and I somehow managed to undo them, one by one. Looking back, what was motivating me was the fear of having to pay the two penalties to Brenda, the penalties being that she would be allowed to forcibly tickle me, and she would then be allowed to make me lick her feet.
What was also motivating me was the prospect of young Kristie being present as a witness to any part of the “game”, or even worse, to any part of the dreaded penalty phase.
So it took almost ten minutes in all, and I don’t know how my aching fingers were able to do it. But I did somehow manage to finally untie the rope that was tying my wrists. After that, came the easy task, untying my ankles. But even that took almost four minutes, because I was so fatigued by that point, and my fingers were so sore that they were starting to cramp up.
The first time that Brenda hogtied me, it took me just over thirty five minutes to finally free myself. And it had been a grueling and truly frightening thirty five minutes, because Brenda had hogtied me so securely, and so effectively.
She had turned out to be so much better with rope than I had ever imagined. Even though it was the first time that Brenda had tied anyone up, she turned out to be a perfectionist when it came to bondage, a perfectionist with a penchant for doing everything exactly right. Even on that first time that she hogtied me, I remember that she wound every loop and every crossloop really tight, and she made a point of tying every single one of her knots really tight as well.
But I had in fact managed to somehow free myself, which really seemed to irritate Brenda, particularly since afterwards, I lay there on my bed and started to gloat over my success, even though I was really worn down from my efforts. But I guess I just couldn’t resist grinning smugly up at her, while pointing out that I had won our first rope game.
So I was still ‘undefeated’, I told her.
My cockiness seemed to really upset Brenda, and for a moment, I temporarily stopped gloating, because I was worried that she might go ahead and tie me up again. And by that point, I was concerned that Brenda was strong enough to hogtie me, even if I didn’t want her to.
I also knew that I would never be able to untie myself from one of Brenda’s hogties a second time on that morning, because I was just too worn down, and too fatigued. And my fingers were too sore and tender from picking at all the knots that Brenda had tied. Several of my fingers were repeatedly cramping up, and I was experiencing quite a bit of discomfort in them.
But to my relief, Brenda told me that I had escaped “fair and square”. So she was going to “honor the rules” of my rope game, and she would accept the game’s outcome. Even though she didn’t seem at all pleased that I had succeeded in freeing myself.
Then she went ahead and gathered up the three strips of rope that she’d used to tie me, along with the other four remaining strips, before walking into my bedroom closet, to look for a place to store the rope.
But she walked back out of my closet, still holding the seven strips of rope, and after she stood there for a moment looking around my bedroom, she decided that my underwear drawer might be the one place that my mother would never look. So she asked my permission to hide the rope in my underwear drawer, underneath my underpants, once again invoking my mother, explaining that a grown son’s underwear drawer was the one place that a mother might not be snooping around in.
“We wouldn’t want her to find these long strips of clothesline and wonder whatever are you doing with them, would we? And if she knew that it was me who was using the ropes on you, to keep you hogtied while I do my housework, what would she think about that?” Brenda asked me, and I couldn’t have agreed more with Brenda, particularly since when Brenda had first cut the seven long strips, I had been a bit concerned that my mother might notice that there was a fairly large portion of clothesline now missing from the laundry room.
Then Brenda told me that she had to get on with her work, and she left me laying there on my bed.
A short while later, I had a sudden urge to take a walk down the street, to get away from the house, and I think that it had to do with the fact that I’d almost found myself trapped in a daylong hogtie.
I had been genuinely frightened during my thirty five minutes of tight bondage, because for most of that thirty five minutes, I truly felt that I was going to remain hogtied on my bed for the entire day, until Brenda finally chose to untie me, after she finished her workday at 4pm.
I really thought that I was going to remain hogtied all day long, which might explain why a short time after I had freed myself, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of confinement, even claustrophobia.
All I know is that all of a sudden, I needed to get out of my bedroom and out of the house, because the walls seemed to be closing in on me.
Anyone reading this story would have to be tightly hogtied for thirty five full minutes, with no perceivable hope of escaping, to understand what I’m talking about. But shortly after I had escaped from Brenda’s hogtie, I was definitely feeling claustrophobic, as if the walls of my bedroom were closing in on me.
So I quickly got out of my house, and walked down the street. It was in front of Mrs. McCauley’s house that I spoke with Mrs. McCauley’s two teenage daughters, both of whom were still in high school. Heather was a varsity cheerleader, and Mrs. McCauley’s younger daughter Bethany played on the high school soccer team. Both of them were wearing short summer skirts that day, and were extremely good looking girls, with athletically built bodies.
And it was easy to understand why both girls had such athletic bodies. Heather had made the high school cheerleading team for the past four years, while her younger sister Bethany was the best player on the soccer team, despite being only in her second year of high school. Bethany was known to be a really aggressive player, not afraid to go after the ball, or to mix it up with other players when she needed to.
There were a few of the other neighborhood girls talking with them, and all of the girls were flirting with me, when Mrs. McCauley came outside for a moment. Mrs. McCauley didn’t seem to mind at all that both her daughters, particularly her younger daughter Bethany, were coming on to me pretty strong. Bethany had even asked me if I wanted to come over to her house that night to watch TV and to make out with her. Bethany was kind of immature and acted as if she’d had no real experience with boys, but desperately wanted to.
If anything, Mrs. McCauley had sort of encouraged the flirting, because she was smiling when she had lightheartedly told Bethany that she was too young to be making out. Mrs. McCauley also told Bethany that not only was I a bit too old for her, but I already had a girlfriend, namely Jennifer, who like me, was home from college for the summer.
Bethany had responded by saying that maybe she would invite Jennifer over one day, so that she could fight Jennifer for me. I remember being a little worried about what Bethany might do to Jennifer, because I had heard stories about Bethany regularly getting into not just scuffles, but into all out fist fights with other girls, both on and off the soccer field.
So even though she might have seemed like a sweet young high school sophomore, Bethany was one of those rough and tumble types who was not afraid to settle things with other girls in a decidedly schoolyard manner. And that included fighting dirty, and using her fists, if she needed to. And from what I’d heard, Bethany wasn’t afraid of using her fists to settle her differences with not just girls, but with boys as well.
In any case, as I was leaving, Mrs. McCauley had taken me off to the side and had told me that I seemed to have a lot of young admirers, particularly her young daughter Bethany.
Maybe it was because I was a senior in college, and around the neighborhood, I was considered to be so cool and sophisticated. Which I guess was why all of the girls in the neighborhood liked me that summer. And I guess that Mrs. McCauley had a highly favorable impression of me as well.
When I got back home from my walk, Brenda was pretty much ignoring me, and I found that a bit intriguing, considering what she had done to me earlier that morning. First, she had straddled me on my bed and pinned my wrists behind my back, then she had not only hogtied me, but hogtied me very effectively.
Most importantly, she had stood at the side of my bed and had watched me for thirty five full minutes, as I struggled to escape from the immobilizing hogtie that she had put me in.
So I was surprised that she could totally ignore me, as if nothing at all had happened between us that morning in my bedroom. But I could tell by the sour look on her face that although she was ignoring me, she was still quite irritated with me.
I think that even though it was her first time tying someone up, Brenda was by her very nature an extremely competitive person, and she was aware that she had done an expert job on my hogtie. So Brenda took my unexpected escape and my overconfident attitude as a personal challenge.
That became even more evident to me the very next morning, when it turned out that Brenda very much wanted to play the rope game again with me.
She arrived at our house as she normally did, just before 8am. Initially, while my mother was still around, Brenda had walked by me several times, without saying a word to me. Not a single word, or even one glance in my direction.
In fact, Brenda had completely ignored me, as she began her housework. But as soon as my mother left the house and I could hear her car drive away, Brenda stopped working and immediately appeared at my bedroom door.
I could tell that she was still peeved over my scolding her about entering my bedroom without permission during the previous week, because she stood in my doorway with an annoyed look on her face, and she asked me if she could come into my bedroom. No sooner had I granted her permission, she entered, and she informed me that my mother had just left for work.
Then Brenda told me that she very definitely wanted to play my “hogtie game” again, which is what she always called it during that entire summer. And I remember that I immediately felt a bit apprehensive, particularly when she started right out by insisting to me that this time, she felt certain that she would be able to tie the knots better, and hide them better, so that I would stay hogtied up all day long. She told me that I wouldn’t be acting so “high and mighty” after today’s game.
Because this time, she was going to tie me tighter, and do a much better job, she assured me, adding that today, she was going to collect the penalties from me, both of them.
I remember that my feeling of apprehension was growing, for two reasons. One was because Brenda seemed to be overly eager, and a little too determined, not only to win the game, but to extract the two penalties from me.
But more importantly, I knew that it was due only to sheer luck that I had just barely escaped from Brenda’s hogtie the day before. And my fingers were still sore from the previous day, which meant that my fingers probably wouldn’t be any good to me, in my efforts to untie any of Brenda’s knots, even if I were able to find them.
So I think that deep down, I knew that there was a really good chance that I would in fact end up losing the “hogtie” game to Brenda.
And just before we started on that second day, Brenda had another surprise for me, when she told me that she wanted me to take my shirt off. “It’ll be more comfortable when you’re lying on the bed, and besides, we don’t want your nice dress shirt to get all wrinkled…..Now hurry up……I’ve got to continue with my housework……” she told me.
I remember that I didn’t really want to take off my shirt, but when I hesitated, Brenda quickly snapped at me.
“Hurry up ….. I don’t have all day to be dealing with bashful young men….” she told me, and I removed my shirt, not just because I was feeling intimidated by Brenda, but also because I was remembering how exciting my experience with Brenda had been the day before, to the point that I had actually lost control of myself, when Brenda had left me lying on my bed, face down, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles tied together. And while I was in the process of losing control, Brenda had returned to my bedroom and had been standing at the foot of my bed and watching every moment of it, from start to finish.
Afterwards, Brenda had chastised me for enjoying myself in such a “disgusting” way. But she had told me that since she now knew that I had a fondness for pleasuring myself while I was bound face down on my bed, she might consider leaving me lying face down on my bed in that position, with my wrists tied behind my back and with my ankles tied together, for ten or fifteen minutes of privacy each day, before she hogtied me all the way.
The entire episode had been extremely embarrassing for me, but my wrists were tied behind my back at the time, and my ankles were tied together as well, so I couldn’t do anything but lie there, blushing up at Brenda as she verbally reprimanded me.
But that hadn’t been the only exciting part of my game with Brenda. Because even after I had lost control of myself while lying there face down, the subsequent hogtie itself had felt eerily stimulating.
Despite the fact that it had been terribly uncomfortable, it had nonetheless been exciting for me, in a sort of spooky way, to be hogtied so tightly and so inescapably, for those thirty five very intense minutes. It had been strangely exciting, even though I had been truly frightened that I wasn’t going to be able to escape.
But on that second day that Brenda was getting ready to tie me up, on that Tuesday, I guess I just couldn’t help myself. Because when Brenda instructed me to lay face down on my bed, I didn’t tell her no, or try to back out.
Instead, I found myself following Brenda’s orders, and lying face down on my bed, with my wrists behind my back.
I did what Brenda told me to do, even though I had just removed my shirt, so I was now barechested. I lay face down on my bed that morning, waiting to let Brenda tie me up again, even though I was feeling more than a little nervous about what I would soon be in for.
In a matter of seconds, Brenda had climbed up onto the bed and was seated solidly on top of me, straddling my hips just as she had the day before. And just as she had the day before, she quickly seized both of my wrists, and yanked them high up behind my back.
Our second game was about to start, and from the moment that Brenda mounted me on my bed, with my wrists pinned high up behind my back, I knew that once I allowed Brenda to tie my wrists, there would be no turning back, no stopping the game.
From the moment that Brenda seized my wrists, I knew that if I allowed Brenda to tie my wrists behind my back, I would have no control over what might happen after that, nor would I be able to prevent the game from playing all the way out to its conclusion, whatever conclusion that might turn out to be.
And on that day, Brenda had warned me that she was going to tie me even tighter, and she was going to hide all the knots even better. Brenda had forewarned me that she was going to collect the penalties from me, both of them.
I know that I was feeling more and more nervous as I lay there face down, with Brenda straddling me and pinning my wrists behind my back. Because I had an eerie feeling that I was not going to be able to escape, not this time. I remembered how difficult it had been for me the day before. I remembered how sore and achy my fingers had become, trying to reach and then to untie the many tight knots that Brenda had tied.
And my fingers were still sore now, one day later, probably too sore to be able to untie even one of Brenda’s knots, let alone all of them. My fingers were still that sore from the day before.
I guess that when I had initially talked Brenda into the “game”, I hadn’t considered the ramifications of actually losing to Brenda, the ramifications being the two penalties that Brenda had told me that she fully expected to collect from me.
I mean, being hogtied all day would be penalty enough, but to be forcibly tickled, and to have to lick Brenda’s feet, while I was still hogtied? Brenda had told me that she was looking forward to giving me a merciless tickling, to teach me some badly needed respect. And I truly believed that she fully intended to carry out her threat. Because Brenda really did have that kind of a dominant, strongwilled personality.
Another important factor that was now on my mind, was that Brenda had clearly become obsessed with the two penalties. She had become obsessed about tickling me against my will, and she now seemed equally adamant about forcing me to lick her feet. I remember thinking to myself that I had unleashed some kind of bondage monster in Brenda, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was starting to think that I was slowly trapping myself in a bondage relationship from which I would not be able to escape. If I let it go too far.
And now I also had to worry that Brenda wanted to embarrass me, by bringing Kristie to my bedroom to watch. I knew that Brenda wanted to pay me back for my treatment of her, but I think that a bigger part was that Brenda had a bit of mischievousness to her stern personality. She wanted to have a spectator present for our hogtie game, to serve as a witness to my embarrassment. And that meant that before long, Brenda might also consider bringing Mrs. McCauley in as a spectator as well.
As I lay there face down on my bed, waiting for Brenda to start the game, I was feeling increasingly concerned about how Kristie or Mrs. McCauley might react, if either of them were to walk into my bedroom to find me hogtied and squirming on my bed, only to have Brenda explain how she and I were playing some kind of college rope game, a game in which I was the one who ended up tightly hogtied on my bed.
And I wondered how Kristie’s or Mrs. McCauley’s reaction would evolve, and what kind of a conversation we would be having, the longer that they watched me squirming and thrashing around in frustration, as I tried to relieve the tension that was being caused by the tightness of Brenda’s overly strict bindings.
Maybe that was why, when I looked out to the edge of my bed and saw Brenda pick up the first strip of rope to use on my wrists, I suddenly found myself being overwhelmed by a sense of panic, about what I was getting myself into.
So I immediately began to jerk on my wrists, trying to pull free from Brenda’s tight grip, in order to back out of our game, before Brenda was able to tie my wrists behind my back.
I no longer wanted to play this hogtie game with Brenda, not anymore.
But Brenda proved to be far too strong for me. Even though I was jerking and pulling on my wrists with everything I had, Brenda had simply tightened her grip around my wrists, and she had fairly easily held both my wrists firmly together behind my back.
Using just one hand to effectively pinch my two wrists together, Brenda then began to tie them with the strip of rope.
“Oh, so you’re trying to get free, are you? Well, that’s not going to happen, buster ………” Brenda told me, adding that for someone who was as bossy and as demanding as I was, I didn’t seem to be very strong at all.
“Since I’m having no trouble whatsoever keeping your wrists pinned behind your back, I guess that means that I’m going to be able to hogtie you, not only this time, but any other time that I choose to, throughout our summer together……” Brenda followed up, and I took her statement as a definite warning about things to come. But then Brenda followed up by telling me what I already knew.
She told me that I’d better quit resisting and lie still, because we were going to play our rope game that day, whether I wanted to play or not.
” ….. And today, I’m going to hogtie you much better than I did yesterday. So today, you’re not going to be able to escape……” Brenda told me.
As Brenda finished tying my wrists behind my back, she went on to warn me that if she won the game, as she fully expected to, my penalty phase would last for at least an hour, very probably for as long as two full hours. We did, after all, have from 4pm until 7 o’clock, when my mother arrived home from work.
So my mother wouldn’t have to know anything at all about what Brenda and I were doing while the two of us were alone. And we would have more than enough time for me to be thoroughly tickled, against my will, until I was begging and squealing for mercy. Or so Brenda was now telling me.
Brenda went on to say that before my mother returned home at 7pm, we would also have more than enough time, after my tickling, for Brenda to force me to lick her feet.
“After I beat you at your hogtie game today, I plan on teaching you a lesson you’ll never forget….” Brenda assured me, adding that after she collected both penalties from me, we would see if I still had the nerve to disrespect her, or to get bossy with her.
Brenda had used three strips of rope to hogtie me, one strip of rope wound tightly around my wrists, a second strip wound just as tightly around my ankles, and a third strip, which Brenda called the “tether” rope, to hogtie my ankles to my wrists.
And since Brenda had hogtied me so effectively, there wasn’t anything that I could do, except to squirm around on my bed, as I used my fingers to try to find the end knots in either the tether rope, or in the rope that was binding my wrists. As the seconds continued to tick slowly by, I thought that Brenda would leave me and go start her housework, but she didn’t.
Instead, she stood there at the side of my bed, looking down on me and watching. Every so often, I would turn my gaze up towards her, and even though she was still frowning at me, I could tell that she was pleased to see me looking so helpless, and so uncomfortable. I remember thinking that she probably felt as if she were finally getting even with me, for all of the bossiness and disrespect that I’d subjected her to, since I’d returned home from college one week earlier.
I continued to try to reach for the end knots with my fingertips, and as time passed, my struggles intensified, as my fingers started to get sore. But I wasn’t making any progress, none at all. Brenda had managed to tie all of the knots in such a way that I couldn’t find them with my fingers.
So it wasn’t that long until I began to reflexively thrash around on my bed in frustration, trying to somehow relieve some of the increasing tension that I was feeling from the tightness of Brenda’s hogtie.
And it was definitely a tight and uncomfortable hogtie, that Brenda had put me in. When I had talked her into playing my game, I had never expected Brenda to be that good at tying me up. The ropes around my wrists and my ankles felt like they were tied just a little bit too tight, but most notably, it was what Brenda repeatedly referred to as the “tether” rope, that was the most distressing part of my hogtie. That was because the tether rope was drawn especially tight, so that my ankles were hitched directly against my wrists, with no play in the rope at all, none whatsoever.
So I guess that was why I continued to impulsively squirm and thrash around on my bed. But it didn’t do anything to loosen the ropes that were wound so tightly around my wrists and around my ankles. And each time that I would glance up at Brenda and she would momentarily lock her eyes with mine, I could swear that she was suppressing a triumphant smirk over the fact that her bindings were a little too tight, and were forcing me to thrash around on my bed in obvious discomfort.
Brenda clearly enjoyed seeing me squirming and wriggling around on my bed like I was.
But then, about 10 minutes into my hogtie, I thought that I saw a different type of smirk on Brenda’s face. That was when she once again reminded me that Kristie was due back in less than an hour, for her second visit of the day. And when Kristie returned, if our game was still going on, and if I was still hogtied on my bed, Brenda might just go ahead and inform Kristie all about my college rope game, or so Brenda was now telling me.
“Kristie has such a fondness for you, I think she might want to watch you playing your little hogtie game, especially when I tell her that you’ve been playing this game at college all year long, and you’re undefeated…..” Brenda noted, then Brenda informed me about something that concerned me even more.
Apparently, Kristie had told Brenda that during the summertime, a number if the neighborhood girls got together for overnighters at each other’s houses, during which I was one of the hot topics of discussion. Whether it was a slumber party involving multiple girls of different ages, or a two girl sleepover, my name would invariably come up, and all the girls would talk about how much they liked me.
But when Brenda revealed that to me, all I could think of was Kristie telling the girls at a sleepover about me playing some kind of a rope game with Brenda, a rope game in which I was the one who got hogtied, while Brenda was the one who was doing the tying.
And I could only imagine the excitement among all the girls at a neighborhood slumber party, if Kristie were to tell everyone that I had lost such a game to Brenda, and that Brenda had then collected the two penalties from me.
Brenda’s statements were making it increasingly clear to me, however, that Brenda was not only aware of how controversial our hogtie game was, but she also seemed to realize just how much embarrassment a “witness” might add to the activity that was going on In my bedroom. Particularly if that witness was an impressionable young girl such as my neighbor Kristie.
But as it turned out, I got lucky on that Monday, very lucky. Because I somehow managed to finally locate, and to ultimately untie, the end knot in the tether rope. I think it was just a fluke, a case of sheer luck, because Brenda had done such a good job of hiding every knot, especially the end knot. And Brenda had tied each of her knots so tight, that it was quite an accomplishment on my part, that I had managed to get the knot untied.
Even though my fingers were really tired by that point, I began to pick at that knot, and although it took me a full minute to untie that first knot, I then managed to undo each subsequent knot, one by one. Until eventually, I was able to use my increasingly sore and achy fingers to fully unravel the tether rope, which allowed my bound feet to flop listlessly back down to the mattress.
Another several minutes later, I managed to find and then pick the first knot free from my wrist rope, although it was extremely difficult to do so. Even then, I didn’t believe that I would escape, because I still had so many knots to go, and my fingers were by that point, getting really sore and tender.
But I continued to pick at the knots, and I somehow managed to undo them, one by one. Looking back, what was motivating me was the fear of having to pay the two penalties to Brenda, the penalties being that she would be allowed to forcibly tickle me, and she would then be allowed to make me lick her feet.
What was also motivating me was the prospect of young Kristie being present as a witness to any part of the “game”, or even worse, to any part of the dreaded penalty phase.
So it took almost ten minutes in all, and I don’t know how my aching fingers were able to do it. But I did somehow manage to finally untie the rope that was tying my wrists. After that, came the easy task, untying my ankles. But even that took almost four minutes, because I was so fatigued by that point, and my fingers were so sore that they were starting to cramp up.
The first time that Brenda hogtied me, it took me just over thirty five minutes to finally free myself. And it had been a grueling and truly frightening thirty five minutes, because Brenda had hogtied me so securely, and so effectively.
She had turned out to be so much better with rope than I had ever imagined. Even though it was the first time that Brenda had tied anyone up, she turned out to be a perfectionist when it came to bondage, a perfectionist with a penchant for doing everything exactly right. Even on that first time that she hogtied me, I remember that she wound every loop and every crossloop really tight, and she made a point of tying every single one of her knots really tight as well.
But I had in fact managed to somehow free myself, which really seemed to irritate Brenda, particularly since afterwards, I lay there on my bed and started to gloat over my success, even though I was really worn down from my efforts. But I guess I just couldn’t resist grinning smugly up at her, while pointing out that I had won our first rope game.
So I was still ‘undefeated’, I told her.
My cockiness seemed to really upset Brenda, and for a moment, I temporarily stopped gloating, because I was worried that she might go ahead and tie me up again. And by that point, I was concerned that Brenda was strong enough to hogtie me, even if I didn’t want her to.
I also knew that I would never be able to untie myself from one of Brenda’s hogties a second time on that morning, because I was just too worn down, and too fatigued. And my fingers were too sore and tender from picking at all the knots that Brenda had tied. Several of my fingers were repeatedly cramping up, and I was experiencing quite a bit of discomfort in them.
But to my relief, Brenda told me that I had escaped “fair and square”. So she was going to “honor the rules” of my rope game, and she would accept the game’s outcome. Even though she didn’t seem at all pleased that I had succeeded in freeing myself.
Then she went ahead and gathered up the three strips of rope that she’d used to tie me, along with the other four remaining strips, before walking into my bedroom closet, to look for a place to store the rope.
But she walked back out of my closet, still holding the seven strips of rope, and after she stood there for a moment looking around my bedroom, she decided that my underwear drawer might be the one place that my mother would never look. So she asked my permission to hide the rope in my underwear drawer, underneath my underpants, once again invoking my mother, explaining that a grown son’s underwear drawer was the one place that a mother might not be snooping around in.
“We wouldn’t want her to find these long strips of clothesline and wonder whatever are you doing with them, would we? And if she knew that it was me who was using the ropes on you, to keep you hogtied while I do my housework, what would she think about that?” Brenda asked me, and I couldn’t have agreed more with Brenda, particularly since when Brenda had first cut the seven long strips, I had been a bit concerned that my mother might notice that there was a fairly large portion of clothesline now missing from the laundry room.
Then Brenda told me that she had to get on with her work, and she left me laying there on my bed.
A short while later, I had a sudden urge to take a walk down the street, to get away from the house, and I think that it had to do with the fact that I’d almost found myself trapped in a daylong hogtie.
I had been genuinely frightened during my thirty five minutes of tight bondage, because for most of that thirty five minutes, I truly felt that I was going to remain hogtied on my bed for the entire day, until Brenda finally chose to untie me, after she finished her workday at 4pm.
I really thought that I was going to remain hogtied all day long, which might explain why a short time after I had freed myself, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of confinement, even claustrophobia.
All I know is that all of a sudden, I needed to get out of my bedroom and out of the house, because the walls seemed to be closing in on me.
Anyone reading this story would have to be tightly hogtied for thirty five full minutes, with no perceivable hope of escaping, to understand what I’m talking about. But shortly after I had escaped from Brenda’s hogtie, I was definitely feeling claustrophobic, as if the walls of my bedroom were closing in on me.
So I quickly got out of my house, and walked down the street. It was in front of Mrs. McCauley’s house that I spoke with Mrs. McCauley’s two teenage daughters, both of whom were still in high school. Heather was a varsity cheerleader, and Mrs. McCauley’s younger daughter Bethany played on the high school soccer team. Both of them were wearing short summer skirts that day, and were extremely good looking girls, with athletically built bodies.
And it was easy to understand why both girls had such athletic bodies. Heather had made the high school cheerleading team for the past four years, while her younger sister Bethany was the best player on the soccer team, despite being only in her second year of high school. Bethany was known to be a really aggressive player, not afraid to go after the ball, or to mix it up with other players when she needed to.
There were a few of the other neighborhood girls talking with them, and all of the girls were flirting with me, when Mrs. McCauley came outside for a moment. Mrs. McCauley didn’t seem to mind at all that both her daughters, particularly her younger daughter Bethany, were coming on to me pretty strong. Bethany had even asked me if I wanted to come over to her house that night to watch TV and to make out with her. Bethany was kind of immature and acted as if she’d had no real experience with boys, but desperately wanted to.
If anything, Mrs. McCauley had sort of encouraged the flirting, because she was smiling when she had lightheartedly told Bethany that she was too young to be making out. Mrs. McCauley also told Bethany that not only was I a bit too old for her, but I already had a girlfriend, namely Jennifer, who like me, was home from college for the summer.
Bethany had responded by saying that maybe she would invite Jennifer over one day, so that she could fight Jennifer for me. I remember being a little worried about what Bethany might do to Jennifer, because I had heard stories about Bethany regularly getting into not just scuffles, but into all out fist fights with other girls, both on and off the soccer field.
So even though she might have seemed like a sweet young high school sophomore, Bethany was one of those rough and tumble types who was not afraid to settle things with other girls in a decidedly schoolyard manner. And that included fighting dirty, and using her fists, if she needed to. And from what I’d heard, Bethany wasn’t afraid of using her fists to settle her differences with not just girls, but with boys as well.
In any case, as I was leaving, Mrs. McCauley had taken me off to the side and had told me that I seemed to have a lot of young admirers, particularly her young daughter Bethany.
Maybe it was because I was a senior in college, and around the neighborhood, I was considered to be so cool and sophisticated. Which I guess was why all of the girls in the neighborhood liked me that summer. And I guess that Mrs. McCauley had a highly favorable impression of me as well.
When I got back home from my walk, Brenda was pretty much ignoring me, and I found that a bit intriguing, considering what she had done to me earlier that morning. First, she had straddled me on my bed and pinned my wrists behind my back, then she had not only hogtied me, but hogtied me very effectively.
Most importantly, she had stood at the side of my bed and had watched me for thirty five full minutes, as I struggled to escape from the immobilizing hogtie that she had put me in.
So I was surprised that she could totally ignore me, as if nothing at all had happened between us that morning in my bedroom. But I could tell by the sour look on her face that although she was ignoring me, she was still quite irritated with me.
I think that even though it was her first time tying someone up, Brenda was by her very nature an extremely competitive person, and she was aware that she had done an expert job on my hogtie. So Brenda took my unexpected escape and my overconfident attitude as a personal challenge.
That became even more evident to me the very next morning, when it turned out that Brenda very much wanted to play the rope game again with me.
She arrived at our house as she normally did, just before 8am. Initially, while my mother was still around, Brenda had walked by me several times, without saying a word to me. Not a single word, or even one glance in my direction.
In fact, Brenda had completely ignored me, as she began her housework. But as soon as my mother left the house and I could hear her car drive away, Brenda stopped working and immediately appeared at my bedroom door.
I could tell that she was still peeved over my scolding her about entering my bedroom without permission during the previous week, because she stood in my doorway with an annoyed look on her face, and she asked me if she could come into my bedroom. No sooner had I granted her permission, she entered, and she informed me that my mother had just left for work.
Then Brenda told me that she very definitely wanted to play my “hogtie game” again, which is what she always called it during that entire summer. And I remember that I immediately felt a bit apprehensive, particularly when she started right out by insisting to me that this time, she felt certain that she would be able to tie the knots better, and hide them better, so that I would stay hogtied up all day long. She told me that I wouldn’t be acting so “high and mighty” after today’s game.
Because this time, she was going to tie me tighter, and do a much better job, she assured me, adding that today, she was going to collect the penalties from me, both of them.
I remember that my feeling of apprehension was growing, for two reasons. One was because Brenda seemed to be overly eager, and a little too determined, not only to win the game, but to extract the two penalties from me.
But more importantly, I knew that it was due only to sheer luck that I had just barely escaped from Brenda’s hogtie the day before. And my fingers were still sore from the previous day, which meant that my fingers probably wouldn’t be any good to me, in my efforts to untie any of Brenda’s knots, even if I were able to find them.
So I think that deep down, I knew that there was a really good chance that I would in fact end up losing the “hogtie” game to Brenda.
And just before we started on that second day, Brenda had another surprise for me, when she told me that she wanted me to take my shirt off. “It’ll be more comfortable when you’re lying on the bed, and besides, we don’t want your nice dress shirt to get all wrinkled…..Now hurry up……I’ve got to continue with my housework……” she told me.
I remember that I didn’t really want to take off my shirt, but when I hesitated, Brenda quickly snapped at me.
“Hurry up ….. I don’t have all day to be dealing with bashful young men….” she told me, and I removed my shirt, not just because I was feeling intimidated by Brenda, but also because I was remembering how exciting my experience with Brenda had been the day before, to the point that I had actually lost control of myself, when Brenda had left me lying on my bed, face down, with my wrists tied behind my back, and with my ankles tied together. And while I was in the process of losing control, Brenda had returned to my bedroom and had been standing at the foot of my bed and watching every moment of it, from start to finish.
Afterwards, Brenda had chastised me for enjoying myself in such a “disgusting” way. But she had told me that since she now knew that I had a fondness for pleasuring myself while I was bound face down on my bed, she might consider leaving me lying face down on my bed in that position, with my wrists tied behind my back and with my ankles tied together, for ten or fifteen minutes of privacy each day, before she hogtied me all the way.
The entire episode had been extremely embarrassing for me, but my wrists were tied behind my back at the time, and my ankles were tied together as well, so I couldn’t do anything but lie there, blushing up at Brenda as she verbally reprimanded me.
But that hadn’t been the only exciting part of my game with Brenda. Because even after I had lost control of myself while lying there face down, the subsequent hogtie itself had felt eerily stimulating.
Despite the fact that it had been terribly uncomfortable, it had nonetheless been exciting for me, in a sort of spooky way, to be hogtied so tightly and so inescapably, for those thirty five very intense minutes. It had been strangely exciting, even though I had been truly frightened that I wasn’t going to be able to escape.
But on that second day that Brenda was getting ready to tie me up, on that Tuesday, I guess I just couldn’t help myself. Because when Brenda instructed me to lay face down on my bed, I didn’t tell her no, or try to back out.
Instead, I found myself following Brenda’s orders, and lying face down on my bed, with my wrists behind my back.
I did what Brenda told me to do, even though I had just removed my shirt, so I was now barechested. I lay face down on my bed that morning, waiting to let Brenda tie me up again, even though I was feeling more than a little nervous about what I would soon be in for.
In a matter of seconds, Brenda had climbed up onto the bed and was seated solidly on top of me, straddling my hips just as she had the day before. And just as she had the day before, she quickly seized both of my wrists, and yanked them high up behind my back.
Our second game was about to start, and from the moment that Brenda mounted me on my bed, with my wrists pinned high up behind my back, I knew that once I allowed Brenda to tie my wrists, there would be no turning back, no stopping the game.
From the moment that Brenda seized my wrists, I knew that if I allowed Brenda to tie my wrists behind my back, I would have no control over what might happen after that, nor would I be able to prevent the game from playing all the way out to its conclusion, whatever conclusion that might turn out to be.
And on that day, Brenda had warned me that she was going to tie me even tighter, and she was going to hide all the knots even better. Brenda had forewarned me that she was going to collect the penalties from me, both of them.
I know that I was feeling more and more nervous as I lay there face down, with Brenda straddling me and pinning my wrists behind my back. Because I had an eerie feeling that I was not going to be able to escape, not this time. I remembered how difficult it had been for me the day before. I remembered how sore and achy my fingers had become, trying to reach and then to untie the many tight knots that Brenda had tied.
And my fingers were still sore now, one day later, probably too sore to be able to untie even one of Brenda’s knots, let alone all of them. My fingers were still that sore from the day before.
I guess that when I had initially talked Brenda into the “game”, I hadn’t considered the ramifications of actually losing to Brenda, the ramifications being the two penalties that Brenda had told me that she fully expected to collect from me.
I mean, being hogtied all day would be penalty enough, but to be forcibly tickled, and to have to lick Brenda’s feet, while I was still hogtied? Brenda had told me that she was looking forward to giving me a merciless tickling, to teach me some badly needed respect. And I truly believed that she fully intended to carry out her threat. Because Brenda really did have that kind of a dominant, strongwilled personality.
Another important factor that was now on my mind, was that Brenda had clearly become obsessed with the two penalties. She had become obsessed about tickling me against my will, and she now seemed equally adamant about forcing me to lick her feet. I remember thinking to myself that I had unleashed some kind of bondage monster in Brenda, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was starting to think that I was slowly trapping myself in a bondage relationship from which I would not be able to escape. If I let it go too far.
And now I also had to worry that Brenda wanted to embarrass me, by bringing Kristie to my bedroom to watch. I knew that Brenda wanted to pay me back for my treatment of her, but I think that a bigger part was that Brenda had a bit of mischievousness to her stern personality. She wanted to have a spectator present for our hogtie game, to serve as a witness to my embarrassment. And that meant that before long, Brenda might also consider bringing Mrs. McCauley in as a spectator as well.
As I lay there face down on my bed, waiting for Brenda to start the game, I was feeling increasingly concerned about how Kristie or Mrs. McCauley might react, if either of them were to walk into my bedroom to find me hogtied and squirming on my bed, only to have Brenda explain how she and I were playing some kind of college rope game, a game in which I was the one who ended up tightly hogtied on my bed.
And I wondered how Kristie’s or Mrs. McCauley’s reaction would evolve, and what kind of a conversation we would be having, the longer that they watched me squirming and thrashing around in frustration, as I tried to relieve the tension that was being caused by the tightness of Brenda’s overly strict bindings.
Maybe that was why, when I looked out to the edge of my bed and saw Brenda pick up the first strip of rope to use on my wrists, I suddenly found myself being overwhelmed by a sense of panic, about what I was getting myself into.
So I immediately began to jerk on my wrists, trying to pull free from Brenda’s tight grip, in order to back out of our game, before Brenda was able to tie my wrists behind my back.
I no longer wanted to play this hogtie game with Brenda, not anymore.
But Brenda proved to be far too strong for me. Even though I was jerking and pulling on my wrists with everything I had, Brenda had simply tightened her grip around my wrists, and she had fairly easily held both my wrists firmly together behind my back.
Using just one hand to effectively pinch my two wrists together, Brenda then began to tie them with the strip of rope.
“Oh, so you’re trying to get free, are you? Well, that’s not going to happen, buster ………” Brenda told me, adding that for someone who was as bossy and as demanding as I was, I didn’t seem to be very strong at all.
“Since I’m having no trouble whatsoever keeping your wrists pinned behind your back, I guess that means that I’m going to be able to hogtie you, not only this time, but any other time that I choose to, throughout our summer together……” Brenda followed up, and I took her statement as a definite warning about things to come. But then Brenda followed up by telling me what I already knew.
She told me that I’d better quit resisting and lie still, because we were going to play our rope game that day, whether I wanted to play or not.
” ….. And today, I’m going to hogtie you much better than I did yesterday. So today, you’re not going to be able to escape……” Brenda told me.
As Brenda finished tying my wrists behind my back, she went on to warn me that if she won the game, as she fully expected to, my penalty phase would last for at least an hour, very probably for as long as two full hours. We did, after all, have from 4pm until 7 o’clock, when my mother arrived home from work.
So my mother wouldn’t have to know anything at all about what Brenda and I were doing while the two of us were alone. And we would have more than enough time for me to be thoroughly tickled, against my will, until I was begging and squealing for mercy. Or so Brenda was now telling me.
Brenda went on to say that before my mother returned home at 7pm, we would also have more than enough time, after my tickling, for Brenda to force me to lick her feet.
“After I beat you at your hogtie game today, I plan on teaching you a lesson you’ll never forget….” Brenda assured me, adding that after she collected both penalties from me, we would see if I still had the nerve to disrespect her, or to get bossy with her.
Couldn't find more, if anyone has the remaining parts, feel free to post them.
Home Alone with Brenda – Part 5
by tjlake » Sat Dec 05, 2015 7:30 pm
As Brenda was tying my wrists together behind my back, she had warned me that she was going to tie me tighter that day, and she did.
She wound the rope around my wrists several times, making sure that it was perfectly coiled, then she changed directions, so that she could crossloop the rope several times, stopping after each crossloop to painstakingly tighten the rope all the way, ensuring that there was no slack whatsoever.
This was only the second time that she tied me up, but the one thing that I discovered about Brenda, was that, when it came to tying me up, she really was obsessive about even the smallest detail. Even on that second day that she tied me, I remember that I was becoming increasingly fearful about just how good this woman was turning out to be, at hogtying me. She seemed to be so concerned about every last detail, making sure that every single loop was wound as tightly as possible. And then she would do the same with each and every one of her crossloops. Every inch of rope seemed to be wound so tightly and so perfectly.
Once Brenda had finished the last crossloop, she started tying the knots, once again pointing out to me that she was doing her best to make sure that the knots were out of the reach of my fingers.
It was after she finished securing my wrists, that she told me that she needed to remove my shoes and socks, as she had the day before. Because she didn’t want anything to get in her way, when she tied my ankles together.
And there was one other piece of clothing that Brenda was now telling me that she wanted to remove as well. My pants.
When I immediately objected to Brenda that I didn’t want her to take my pants off, she told me that since my shoes, socks, and shirt were off, if wouldn’t look right if I still had my pants on.
So my pants needed to come off, Brenda had told me.
I didn’t agree with that, not at all, and I told Brenda that I didn’t want her to take my pants off. But I couldn’t very well do anything, since Brenda had already tied my wrists behind my back. So even as I continued to protest, Brenda went ahead and undid my belt, and she proceeded to remove my pants anyway, leaving me dressed in nothing but a pair of white cotton underpants.
There was something else that Brenda did that day, though, that unnerved me a little bit. As she had removed each piece of my clothing, starting all the way back with my shirt, she had very carefully tossed each piece down onto the floor, except that my clothes had not ended up in a neat pile, but were instead scattered all around on my bedroom carpet, just inside my bedroom door. A shoe here, a sock a few feet away, my shirt and pants a foot away from that. Each piece scattered haphazardly.
I remember thinking that Brenda seemed to have done that deliberately, for effect, in case we were to end up with a witness, such as Kristie, or Mrs. McCauley. Because of the way that the pile of clothes looked on the floor, I was sure that it would call extra attention to the fact that Brenda had stripped me of all of my clothing before tying me up.
That’s sure what it seemed liked to me, because from my face-down position on my bed, as I gazed down onto the floor in front of my bedroom door, I could see every piece of my clothing, and they sure looked conspicuous, the way that they were scattered all around the carpet, right inside the doorway to my bedroom. And I distinctly recall that as Brenda had thrown each piece down to the floor, she appeared to have aimed very carefully. So I was sure that Brenda had deliberately arranged the clothing that way.
But now that she had stripped me all the way down to my underpants, she could now tie my ankles without any of my clothing being in her way, Brenda told me. And as she had the day before, she straddled my bottom, and clamped her knees tightly against the outsides of my lower thighs, so that she could pin my legs together, between her knees.
I had felt Brenda’s weight the day before, only today, Brenda seemed heavier, although it might have been that she was sitting on me with more confidence.
She definitely felt more self-assured, and much more assertive, as she began to wind the loops around and around my ankles, meticulously tightening each loop to reduce any slack in the rope. She was tying the rope faster today, and with more confidence, and I could tell that she really was getting very good at this.
“You’re fidgeting again, even more than yesterday….. ” she told me, as she was crosslooping the rope in the same thorough manner in which she had coiled the loops.
Finally, she finished with a series of very secure knots, each one hidden by the previous knot. Brenda got off of me, and was now kneeling on my bed, just off to my side.
But then Brenda told me that she wanted to try something else, something that she’d thought about overnight. She wanted to tie my thighs together as well. I immediately told her I didn’t want to have my thighs knotted together, particularly now that Brenda had removed my pants. But Brenda had already begun to coil the rope, around and around my bared thighs, just above my knees.
Then Brenda told me something that showed me that even though she was a simple cleaning woman, she had a natural understanding of how to force an erotic response out of an otherwise reluctant male. She told me that in addition to my wrists and ankles being tied, if my thighs were tied together as well, then it should help to speed things up, when she left me alone on my bed for 10 minutes, before she hogtied me all the way.
“……so if I tie your thighs together, it should help you, when you indulge your masculine needs today, like you did yesterday in such a disgusting manner…..” Brenda had told me. After that, she had invoked the names of both Kristie and Mrs. McCauley, telling me that since this was a seemingly legitimate game that sophisticated male students like myself are playing in college dormitories, then she saw no reason why she shouldn’t be able to tell one or both of my neighbors about our “hogtie game”.
And with my trousers now stripped away, and with my naked thighs now tied together, Brenda felt that I looked a lot more “presentable”, should either Kristie or Mrs. McCauley come to my bedroom to watch me playing my game.
As Brenda wound the rope around my naked thighs, she kept pausing momentarily, to lift my legs up from my bed, so that she could coil the rope just right. And just as she had with my wrists and ankles, she was looping the rope around my thighs in what seemed to be a perfect pattern, pausing after each loop to tighten the rope and completely remove any slack or any wrinkles. Then Brenda crosslooped the rope, with each crossloop pulled especially tight. After which she tied several very tight knots.
But just as Brenda had done with my ankles, throughout the process of tying my thighs, Brenda hands and fingers were brushing repeatedly against the bare skin of my upper legs. And it couldn’t have been more obvious, the way that her fingertips kept caressing the backs and inner portions of my thighs.
“You’re really fidgeting now ……… your thighs seem to be especially sensitive….. ” she told me, and she was right. My thighs did seem to be overly ticklish.
Even if I wasn’t sure the previous day, I was now certain that Brenda was deliberately taking her time as she tied my thighs together, because the way that she was deliberately touching and feeling my naked upper legs was causing me to fidget and squirm quite a bit. And Brenda seemed to be particularly pleased about just how ticklish my thighs seemed to be.
Brenda wasn’t straddled on top of me while she tied my thighs together, but instead, she was kneeling at my side, which gave her clear and unobstructed access to my upper legs.
But with my wrists already tied behind my back, and with my ankles tied together as well, I couldn’t stop Brenda from caressing my thighs from her kneeling position next to me. And that’s exactly what she was doing, caressing, and even stroking my thighs, to find out just how ticklish I was. And I wasn’t able to prevent her in any way, from doing what she was doing.
“Oh, my! I can see why you didn’t want me to take your pants off ………. The backs and the insides of your legs are especially ticklish, aren’t they?” Brenda asked me, and it was then that I once again realized that even though there was a certain amount of excitement in being tied up by Brenda, I most definitely did not want to be tickled by her. I didn’t think that I could take even one minute of it, let alone a prolonged period of time, if Brenda were to actually start to really tickle me, which she could have done at any time.
A few minutes earlier on that day, though, she had once again told me that she just might explain to either Kristie or to Mrs. McCauley that we were playing a “hogtie” game, a game that I regularly played at college. And she had come right out and told me that she had removed my pants, and she had tied my thighs together, so that I would make a more “presentable” sight for Kristie or Mrs. McCauley, should either of them decide to come to my bedroom and watch me “playing” my college rope game.
So that was why she initially talked me into taking my shirt off, before tying my wrists. And that was also why she had removed my pants and tied my bare thighs together. She thought that if Kristie or Mrs. McCauley saw me stripped and bound as I was, it would be more interesting for them, and more embarrassing for me.
And as Brenda talked more and more about bringing either Kristie or McCauley into the equation, there was less and less doubt in my mind that Brenda fully understood the intricacies of having a witness to my hogtie game.
At that point, Brenda stroked my thighs one last time, and she told me that before she hogtied me all that way, she was going to leave me tied up face down on my bed, for around 10 minutes, so that I could “indulge” myself, as we had talked about that day, and on the previous day as well.
Then she did something else that showed what good instincts she had, when it came to raising a male’s excitement levels.
She placed a pillow underneath my face, and she told me that it might be more ‘fun’ for me, if I pressed my face down into the pillow. And to illustrate her point, she went ahead and pushed my face down into the pillow, and held it there, for what seemed like a long time, shutting off my air supply in the process.
Finally, she pulled her hand away and allowed me to lift my head up off of the pillow and inhale air again. As I lay there catching my breath, she told me that she would be next door scrubbing my bathroom sink, since she had seen me watching her do that, during the previous week.
But before she went off to my bathroom, Brenda asked me one more question.
“Would you like me to turn and stand here with my posterior facing you?” she asked, noting that I had sneaked so many inappropriate looks at her from behind during my first week home.
Without waiting for me to reply, she turned and stood there, while I stared at the back of her knee length skirt for a full two minutes. Or maybe it was even longer than that, maybe it was three or even four full minutes. I couldn’t really keep track of how long it was. I just know that Brenda stood there with her skirt covered bottom completely blocking my vision, for what seemed like a very long time.
Brenda was a tall, full figured woman, with a particularly broad backside, and I have to admit that I was enjoying the view, even though I was increasingly frightened about where things were heading with Brenda. And I couldn’t get over how this undereducated housecleaner could act so nonchalant about everything that she was doing. Tying my wrists and ankles, and then leaving me in a face down position, so that I could “indulge” myself on my bed. And in addition, she had stripped me down to my underpants and had tied my thighs together to try to make it more ‘fun’ for me.
And if that weren’t enough, she was now going so far as to allow me to take a long, unobstructed look at her “posterior” as she had referred to it.
Ok, I’ll go and scrub your sink, and I’ll give you 10 minutes of privacy…..” she told me, but she warned me that when she returned, she would be tying me good and tight, when she hogtied me “all the way”.
And this time, she was going to do an extra good job. Today, she wanted to make certain that I stayed tied up all day, so that she could collect the penalties from me. Or so Brenda was continually telling me.
But I guess you could say that by that point, Brenda seemed to have become completely obsessed about extracting the two penalties from me. And I have to admit that it frightened me, knowing how fixated Brenda seemed to be about subjecting me to both penalties.
After she left the room to go scrub my bathroom sink, I remember that I tried to suppress those strange but exciting sensations, as they began to build in me again. But the sensations were so powerful, and so overwhelming.
So even though I tried to suppress those feelings, I was unable to.
“Oh no, it’s happening again…..same as yesterday………” I remember thinking, as the sensations began to build inside of me.
I was lying there face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted together behind my back, and with my ankles tied together as well. But on this day, Brenda had stripped me all the way down to my underpants, and she had decided that she also wanted to bind my naked thighs together, which did in fact add quite a bit, to the rush of involuntary arousal that I was feeling. Just as Brenda had predicted that it would.
So as I continued to lie there, I began to pull on my wrists, and my ankles, and I could feel all the ropes, the one around my wrists, and the one around my ankles.
What I could feel most of all, though, was the rope that Brenda had strapped so tightly around my bared thighs.
All of which was causing my involuntary excitement to continue to grow. I knew that if I allowed myself to succumb to my male urges two days in a row, I would be setting the wrong precedent with Brenda, but I couldn’t help myself. Brenda had me bound too tightly and too securely, so I couldn’t prevent it from happening again.
I started to think about Brenda, and how she had pushed my face down into my pillow, shutting off my air supply for at least 20 seconds, maybe more. Then I thought about how she had turned around at the side of my bed, to allow me to take a long look at her broad backside.
My involuntary excitement continued to swell, as I thought about all the things that Brenda was doing, to try to push me into “indulging” myself while I was tied up.
I knew that I should have been trying to control myself, but I just couldn’t help it. As I lay there, face down on my bed, all I could think about at that moment was Brenda’s skirt covered bottom, and all I could feel were the ropes that were so tightly strapped around my wrists, my ankles, and my thighs.
The last thing I remember was pushing my face down into the pillow, just as Brenda had done to me. That’s when my hips started to convulse. I was doing it again, just like I had done the previous day, when Brenda had left me tied up to go talk to Kristie at the front door.
And just as my hips began to shudder, in the distance, I could hear the doorbell ringing, which sent a quick jolt of apprehension running through me. Someone had arrived at our front door, probably either Kristie or Mrs. McCauley, who had come to talk to Brenda as they usually did.
But the voice that I heard in the distance, sounded as if it was Mrs. McCauley’s daughter Bethany, who had recently developed a schoolgirl crush of her own on me. During our conversation in front of her house, she had mentioned that she might come to visit me one day. But unlike young Kristie, Bethany was rough and unpolished, an immature girl who was known to settle things with her fists, whether it was on the soccer field, or around the neighborhood. The type of girl who might actually want to play the hogtie game herself, if she were to ever discover that I was involved in that type of “game”.
The previous afternoon, Bethany had asked me over to watch TV and “make out” with her, and although I had declined her invitation, I knew that Bethany was the immature roughneck type of girl, who would probably just as soon hogtie me, as “make out” with me.
So I definitely wouldn’t want the pushy and emotionally underdeveloped Bethany to find out that Brenda and I were playing any type of rope games in my house. And I most definitely wouldn’t want Bethany to become aware of the game’s two penalties, the penalties to be imposed, if I were unable to escape from my hogtie.
In any case, what the sound of Bethany’s voice did, was to make my ensuing spasms all the more exciting, as I lay there face down on my bed, with my wrists, ankles, and thighs securely bound.
When I had finished, I lifted my face up from my pillow, and I was immediately overcome with another fresh burst of embarrassment. Because Brenda was planted there, at the foot of my bed. Just like the day before, Brenda had apparently entered my bedroom without me realizing that she was standing there watching me.
“You just did it again, didn’t you? So you do like being stripped all the way down to your underpants, and you do like having your thighs tied together?” she asked me, with a mixed look on her face. As if she was both fascinated and disgusted that a college male could be so easily provoked into an involuntary release, while he was lying face down on his bed, with his wrists bound tightly behind his back, with his ankles tied together, and with his thighs also bound together.
Then she told me that we had a visitor, namely Mrs. McCauley’s daughter Bethany, who was currently waiting at the front door for Brenda to return, at least that’s what Brenda was telling me. And Brenda went on to inform me that she was considering explaining everything about my college hogtie game to Bethany, who just might be joining us shortly. Maybe it was time to bring in a fresh set of eyes, or so Brenda seemed to be thinking.
“While I hogtie you today, would you like to have young Bethany here watching? Or would you like for us to be alone, just the two of us, while we play your little hogtie game?” Brenda asked me.
by tjlake » Sat Dec 05, 2015 7:30 pm
As Brenda was tying my wrists together behind my back, she had warned me that she was going to tie me tighter that day, and she did.
She wound the rope around my wrists several times, making sure that it was perfectly coiled, then she changed directions, so that she could crossloop the rope several times, stopping after each crossloop to painstakingly tighten the rope all the way, ensuring that there was no slack whatsoever.
This was only the second time that she tied me up, but the one thing that I discovered about Brenda, was that, when it came to tying me up, she really was obsessive about even the smallest detail. Even on that second day that she tied me, I remember that I was becoming increasingly fearful about just how good this woman was turning out to be, at hogtying me. She seemed to be so concerned about every last detail, making sure that every single loop was wound as tightly as possible. And then she would do the same with each and every one of her crossloops. Every inch of rope seemed to be wound so tightly and so perfectly.
Once Brenda had finished the last crossloop, she started tying the knots, once again pointing out to me that she was doing her best to make sure that the knots were out of the reach of my fingers.
It was after she finished securing my wrists, that she told me that she needed to remove my shoes and socks, as she had the day before. Because she didn’t want anything to get in her way, when she tied my ankles together.
And there was one other piece of clothing that Brenda was now telling me that she wanted to remove as well. My pants.
When I immediately objected to Brenda that I didn’t want her to take my pants off, she told me that since my shoes, socks, and shirt were off, if wouldn’t look right if I still had my pants on.
So my pants needed to come off, Brenda had told me.
I didn’t agree with that, not at all, and I told Brenda that I didn’t want her to take my pants off. But I couldn’t very well do anything, since Brenda had already tied my wrists behind my back. So even as I continued to protest, Brenda went ahead and undid my belt, and she proceeded to remove my pants anyway, leaving me dressed in nothing but a pair of white cotton underpants.
There was something else that Brenda did that day, though, that unnerved me a little bit. As she had removed each piece of my clothing, starting all the way back with my shirt, she had very carefully tossed each piece down onto the floor, except that my clothes had not ended up in a neat pile, but were instead scattered all around on my bedroom carpet, just inside my bedroom door. A shoe here, a sock a few feet away, my shirt and pants a foot away from that. Each piece scattered haphazardly.
I remember thinking that Brenda seemed to have done that deliberately, for effect, in case we were to end up with a witness, such as Kristie, or Mrs. McCauley. Because of the way that the pile of clothes looked on the floor, I was sure that it would call extra attention to the fact that Brenda had stripped me of all of my clothing before tying me up.
That’s sure what it seemed liked to me, because from my face-down position on my bed, as I gazed down onto the floor in front of my bedroom door, I could see every piece of my clothing, and they sure looked conspicuous, the way that they were scattered all around the carpet, right inside the doorway to my bedroom. And I distinctly recall that as Brenda had thrown each piece down to the floor, she appeared to have aimed very carefully. So I was sure that Brenda had deliberately arranged the clothing that way.
But now that she had stripped me all the way down to my underpants, she could now tie my ankles without any of my clothing being in her way, Brenda told me. And as she had the day before, she straddled my bottom, and clamped her knees tightly against the outsides of my lower thighs, so that she could pin my legs together, between her knees.
I had felt Brenda’s weight the day before, only today, Brenda seemed heavier, although it might have been that she was sitting on me with more confidence.
She definitely felt more self-assured, and much more assertive, as she began to wind the loops around and around my ankles, meticulously tightening each loop to reduce any slack in the rope. She was tying the rope faster today, and with more confidence, and I could tell that she really was getting very good at this.
“You’re fidgeting again, even more than yesterday….. ” she told me, as she was crosslooping the rope in the same thorough manner in which she had coiled the loops.
Finally, she finished with a series of very secure knots, each one hidden by the previous knot. Brenda got off of me, and was now kneeling on my bed, just off to my side.
But then Brenda told me that she wanted to try something else, something that she’d thought about overnight. She wanted to tie my thighs together as well. I immediately told her I didn’t want to have my thighs knotted together, particularly now that Brenda had removed my pants. But Brenda had already begun to coil the rope, around and around my bared thighs, just above my knees.
Then Brenda told me something that showed me that even though she was a simple cleaning woman, she had a natural understanding of how to force an erotic response out of an otherwise reluctant male. She told me that in addition to my wrists and ankles being tied, if my thighs were tied together as well, then it should help to speed things up, when she left me alone on my bed for 10 minutes, before she hogtied me all the way.
“……so if I tie your thighs together, it should help you, when you indulge your masculine needs today, like you did yesterday in such a disgusting manner…..” Brenda had told me. After that, she had invoked the names of both Kristie and Mrs. McCauley, telling me that since this was a seemingly legitimate game that sophisticated male students like myself are playing in college dormitories, then she saw no reason why she shouldn’t be able to tell one or both of my neighbors about our “hogtie game”.
And with my trousers now stripped away, and with my naked thighs now tied together, Brenda felt that I looked a lot more “presentable”, should either Kristie or Mrs. McCauley come to my bedroom to watch me playing my game.
As Brenda wound the rope around my naked thighs, she kept pausing momentarily, to lift my legs up from my bed, so that she could coil the rope just right. And just as she had with my wrists and ankles, she was looping the rope around my thighs in what seemed to be a perfect pattern, pausing after each loop to tighten the rope and completely remove any slack or any wrinkles. Then Brenda crosslooped the rope, with each crossloop pulled especially tight. After which she tied several very tight knots.
But just as Brenda had done with my ankles, throughout the process of tying my thighs, Brenda hands and fingers were brushing repeatedly against the bare skin of my upper legs. And it couldn’t have been more obvious, the way that her fingertips kept caressing the backs and inner portions of my thighs.
“You’re really fidgeting now ……… your thighs seem to be especially sensitive….. ” she told me, and she was right. My thighs did seem to be overly ticklish.
Even if I wasn’t sure the previous day, I was now certain that Brenda was deliberately taking her time as she tied my thighs together, because the way that she was deliberately touching and feeling my naked upper legs was causing me to fidget and squirm quite a bit. And Brenda seemed to be particularly pleased about just how ticklish my thighs seemed to be.
Brenda wasn’t straddled on top of me while she tied my thighs together, but instead, she was kneeling at my side, which gave her clear and unobstructed access to my upper legs.
But with my wrists already tied behind my back, and with my ankles tied together as well, I couldn’t stop Brenda from caressing my thighs from her kneeling position next to me. And that’s exactly what she was doing, caressing, and even stroking my thighs, to find out just how ticklish I was. And I wasn’t able to prevent her in any way, from doing what she was doing.
“Oh, my! I can see why you didn’t want me to take your pants off ………. The backs and the insides of your legs are especially ticklish, aren’t they?” Brenda asked me, and it was then that I once again realized that even though there was a certain amount of excitement in being tied up by Brenda, I most definitely did not want to be tickled by her. I didn’t think that I could take even one minute of it, let alone a prolonged period of time, if Brenda were to actually start to really tickle me, which she could have done at any time.
A few minutes earlier on that day, though, she had once again told me that she just might explain to either Kristie or to Mrs. McCauley that we were playing a “hogtie” game, a game that I regularly played at college. And she had come right out and told me that she had removed my pants, and she had tied my thighs together, so that I would make a more “presentable” sight for Kristie or Mrs. McCauley, should either of them decide to come to my bedroom and watch me “playing” my college rope game.
So that was why she initially talked me into taking my shirt off, before tying my wrists. And that was also why she had removed my pants and tied my bare thighs together. She thought that if Kristie or Mrs. McCauley saw me stripped and bound as I was, it would be more interesting for them, and more embarrassing for me.
And as Brenda talked more and more about bringing either Kristie or McCauley into the equation, there was less and less doubt in my mind that Brenda fully understood the intricacies of having a witness to my hogtie game.
At that point, Brenda stroked my thighs one last time, and she told me that before she hogtied me all that way, she was going to leave me tied up face down on my bed, for around 10 minutes, so that I could “indulge” myself, as we had talked about that day, and on the previous day as well.
Then she did something else that showed what good instincts she had, when it came to raising a male’s excitement levels.
She placed a pillow underneath my face, and she told me that it might be more ‘fun’ for me, if I pressed my face down into the pillow. And to illustrate her point, she went ahead and pushed my face down into the pillow, and held it there, for what seemed like a long time, shutting off my air supply in the process.
Finally, she pulled her hand away and allowed me to lift my head up off of the pillow and inhale air again. As I lay there catching my breath, she told me that she would be next door scrubbing my bathroom sink, since she had seen me watching her do that, during the previous week.
But before she went off to my bathroom, Brenda asked me one more question.
“Would you like me to turn and stand here with my posterior facing you?” she asked, noting that I had sneaked so many inappropriate looks at her from behind during my first week home.
Without waiting for me to reply, she turned and stood there, while I stared at the back of her knee length skirt for a full two minutes. Or maybe it was even longer than that, maybe it was three or even four full minutes. I couldn’t really keep track of how long it was. I just know that Brenda stood there with her skirt covered bottom completely blocking my vision, for what seemed like a very long time.
Brenda was a tall, full figured woman, with a particularly broad backside, and I have to admit that I was enjoying the view, even though I was increasingly frightened about where things were heading with Brenda. And I couldn’t get over how this undereducated housecleaner could act so nonchalant about everything that she was doing. Tying my wrists and ankles, and then leaving me in a face down position, so that I could “indulge” myself on my bed. And in addition, she had stripped me down to my underpants and had tied my thighs together to try to make it more ‘fun’ for me.
And if that weren’t enough, she was now going so far as to allow me to take a long, unobstructed look at her “posterior” as she had referred to it.
Ok, I’ll go and scrub your sink, and I’ll give you 10 minutes of privacy…..” she told me, but she warned me that when she returned, she would be tying me good and tight, when she hogtied me “all the way”.
And this time, she was going to do an extra good job. Today, she wanted to make certain that I stayed tied up all day, so that she could collect the penalties from me. Or so Brenda was continually telling me.
But I guess you could say that by that point, Brenda seemed to have become completely obsessed about extracting the two penalties from me. And I have to admit that it frightened me, knowing how fixated Brenda seemed to be about subjecting me to both penalties.
After she left the room to go scrub my bathroom sink, I remember that I tried to suppress those strange but exciting sensations, as they began to build in me again. But the sensations were so powerful, and so overwhelming.
So even though I tried to suppress those feelings, I was unable to.
“Oh no, it’s happening again…..same as yesterday………” I remember thinking, as the sensations began to build inside of me.
I was lying there face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted together behind my back, and with my ankles tied together as well. But on this day, Brenda had stripped me all the way down to my underpants, and she had decided that she also wanted to bind my naked thighs together, which did in fact add quite a bit, to the rush of involuntary arousal that I was feeling. Just as Brenda had predicted that it would.
So as I continued to lie there, I began to pull on my wrists, and my ankles, and I could feel all the ropes, the one around my wrists, and the one around my ankles.
What I could feel most of all, though, was the rope that Brenda had strapped so tightly around my bared thighs.
All of which was causing my involuntary excitement to continue to grow. I knew that if I allowed myself to succumb to my male urges two days in a row, I would be setting the wrong precedent with Brenda, but I couldn’t help myself. Brenda had me bound too tightly and too securely, so I couldn’t prevent it from happening again.
I started to think about Brenda, and how she had pushed my face down into my pillow, shutting off my air supply for at least 20 seconds, maybe more. Then I thought about how she had turned around at the side of my bed, to allow me to take a long look at her broad backside.
My involuntary excitement continued to swell, as I thought about all the things that Brenda was doing, to try to push me into “indulging” myself while I was tied up.
I knew that I should have been trying to control myself, but I just couldn’t help it. As I lay there, face down on my bed, all I could think about at that moment was Brenda’s skirt covered bottom, and all I could feel were the ropes that were so tightly strapped around my wrists, my ankles, and my thighs.
The last thing I remember was pushing my face down into the pillow, just as Brenda had done to me. That’s when my hips started to convulse. I was doing it again, just like I had done the previous day, when Brenda had left me tied up to go talk to Kristie at the front door.
And just as my hips began to shudder, in the distance, I could hear the doorbell ringing, which sent a quick jolt of apprehension running through me. Someone had arrived at our front door, probably either Kristie or Mrs. McCauley, who had come to talk to Brenda as they usually did.
But the voice that I heard in the distance, sounded as if it was Mrs. McCauley’s daughter Bethany, who had recently developed a schoolgirl crush of her own on me. During our conversation in front of her house, she had mentioned that she might come to visit me one day. But unlike young Kristie, Bethany was rough and unpolished, an immature girl who was known to settle things with her fists, whether it was on the soccer field, or around the neighborhood. The type of girl who might actually want to play the hogtie game herself, if she were to ever discover that I was involved in that type of “game”.
The previous afternoon, Bethany had asked me over to watch TV and “make out” with her, and although I had declined her invitation, I knew that Bethany was the immature roughneck type of girl, who would probably just as soon hogtie me, as “make out” with me.
So I definitely wouldn’t want the pushy and emotionally underdeveloped Bethany to find out that Brenda and I were playing any type of rope games in my house. And I most definitely wouldn’t want Bethany to become aware of the game’s two penalties, the penalties to be imposed, if I were unable to escape from my hogtie.
In any case, what the sound of Bethany’s voice did, was to make my ensuing spasms all the more exciting, as I lay there face down on my bed, with my wrists, ankles, and thighs securely bound.
When I had finished, I lifted my face up from my pillow, and I was immediately overcome with another fresh burst of embarrassment. Because Brenda was planted there, at the foot of my bed. Just like the day before, Brenda had apparently entered my bedroom without me realizing that she was standing there watching me.
“You just did it again, didn’t you? So you do like being stripped all the way down to your underpants, and you do like having your thighs tied together?” she asked me, with a mixed look on her face. As if she was both fascinated and disgusted that a college male could be so easily provoked into an involuntary release, while he was lying face down on his bed, with his wrists bound tightly behind his back, with his ankles tied together, and with his thighs also bound together.
Then she told me that we had a visitor, namely Mrs. McCauley’s daughter Bethany, who was currently waiting at the front door for Brenda to return, at least that’s what Brenda was telling me. And Brenda went on to inform me that she was considering explaining everything about my college hogtie game to Bethany, who just might be joining us shortly. Maybe it was time to bring in a fresh set of eyes, or so Brenda seemed to be thinking.
“While I hogtie you today, would you like to have young Bethany here watching? Or would you like for us to be alone, just the two of us, while we play your little hogtie game?” Brenda asked me.
Home Alone with Brenda - Part 6
by tjlake » Sat Jan 30, 2016 11:05 am
As I lay there in a face down position on my bed on that Tuesday morning, it didn’t seem like only the second time that Brenda and I were playing our rope game. But maybe that was because Brenda had turned out to be a lot better at tying me up than I had expected her to be. On the previous day, she had secured me in a surprisingly effective hogtie, from which I had just barely managed to escape.
And now again one day later, as soon as my mother had left for work, Brenda had insisted on playing our game again, and she had proceeded to tie me the same way, face down on my bed with my wrists knotted tightly together behind my back, and with my ankles laced together. Except that during this game, Brenda had taken things even further, by stripping me all the way down to my underpants, and then tying my naked thighs together, despite my objections.
Then, when she had gotten to the point where she would be hogtying me all the way, she had stopped, and she had left me alone in my bedroom, face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, my ankles knotted together, and with my thighs now tied together as well.
I don’t know if it was the tightness of the ropes, or if it was the feeling of complete helplessness as I lay there on my stomach, but my excitement had gotten the better of me, for the second time in as many days.
And I’m pretty sure that Brenda’s other actions had also added to my arousal. Like shutting off my air by forcing my mouth and nose down into a fluffy pillow, or allowing me to stare at her skirt covered backside for several minutes before she left me alone in my bedroom.
Despite the fact that she was an undereducated housecleaner, Brenda seemed to instinctively understand that those actions on her part would enhance my male experience, as I ‘indulged’ my masculine needs, which was how Brenda had described what I did on my bed, as I lay there with my face pressed down into my pillow, stripped all the way down to my underpants and tightly bound.
And to make my situation even more delicate on that Tuesday morning, Brenda had returned to my bedroom just in time to witness the entire event, from the moment that my hips had begun to shudder uncontrollably, until I was lying there completely motionless on my bed afterwards, with my mouth, nose, and eyes still pressed down into the pillow.
But the instant that I heard Brenda’s voice, I lifted my face up, so that I could peer back over my shoulder. And sure enough, there she was, standing at the foot of my bed.
“You just did it again, didn’t you? Just like yesterday when I tied you up ….. I knew if I left you alone, you wouldn’t be able to control your manly urges…..“ Brenda chided me upon returning to my bedroom on that second morning. Then she noted that I obviously enjoyed being stripped to my underpants, and having my naked thighs laced together, while I was tied face down on my bed.
“….and don’t you dare try to deny it, because I just stood right here at the foot of your bed and watched you doing it ……. I watched you squirming around with your wrists tied behind your back, and your legs tied together, wiggling your bottom back and forth and rubbing yourself against your mattress, just like you did yesterday….” Brenda followed up, with that same look of revulsion once again on her face.
It was the very same look that she had given me the previous day, when she had quietly returned to my bedroom and caught me losing control of my sexuality in the exact same way.
“……. and now you’re lying there all tied up, looking so quiet and so satisfied, just like yesterday, with that guilty little boy smirk on your beet red face ….… so don’t even try to deny what you just did, when I left you alone to go and scrub your sink….” Brenda scolded me, as if she could barely contain her disgust over what I had just done in her presence, and for the second morning in a row no less.
But just as on the previous day, disgust wasn’t the only reaction that Brenda seemed to be experiencing. She also appeared to be increasingly intrigued that someone of my age and maturity level would commit such an unrestrained act of self gratification, while I was lying face down on my bed, with my wrists laced tightly behind my back, my ankles tied together, and with my thighs also lashed together.
And don’t forget that I was undressed all the way down to my underpants, so I must have put on quite a show for Brenda, stripped nearly naked and tightly bound as I was.
As Brenda moved around to the side of my bed, I remember thinking that she was now starting to look at my unclothed body a little too closely, which was causing me to feel increasingly self conscious, possibly because I was wearing nothing more than a pair of white briefs, while Brenda was fully dressed, in her collared work blouse and knee length skirt.
I was also feeling increasingly embarrassed, as I peered up over my shoulder at Brenda. There I was, a college senior, and I hadn’t been caught on just one morning, but on two straight mornings. Doing something on my bed that I never should have been caught doing.
With Brenda continuing to stand over me, frowning disdainfully down at me, I began to pull reflexively on my bindings, but the ropes around my wrists, ankles, and thighs were all so tightly and so securely tied that I couldn’t really move very much at all. So there wasn’t anything I could do, except to lie there on my stomach, with my wrists conspicuously bound behind my back, as I continued to gaze up over my shoulder at Brenda, who still appeared to be inspecting my uncovered male physique a little too closely.
By that point, I was starting to force a weak grin up at Brenda, because I could no longer contain my feeling of embarrassment, over having allowed Brenda to see me lose control like I had, and two days in a row no less.
And Brenda wasn’t done with me yet.
“At least I know that I must be tying you up the way that you like to be tied……” she concluded, noting that she would be sure to allow me some private time by myself, each and every time that we played our game during the long summer.
She would strip me down to my underpants, then she would tie my wrists, my ankles, and my thighs, after which she would go off and leave me alone for ten minutes, so that I could have my “fun”. Or so Brenda was now telling me.
Then she added that she was so glad that I had used my mattress to get my masculine impulses out of the way, because it was time for me to be hogtied all the way.
“…..now that you’ve indulged your lustful male urges, we can play your little rope game without having to worry about your pesky manly needs interfering while I hogtie your wrists to your ankles.....” she noted, but she did take a moment to explain to me that we most definitely shouldn’t tell my mother or my girlfriend Jennifer about what I had just done on my bed.
Because Brenda was certain that both my mother and Jennifer would be completely shocked to know that I had been pleasuring myself against my mattress, not once, but two days in a row.
“I’m certain that neither your mother nor your girlfriend Jennifer would approve of my assisting you like I am, by stripping you and tying your wrists behind your back …… and tying your ankles and thighs together as well……” Brenda pointed out, then she reminded me that there had been another way that she had assisted me, which was to stand at the side of my bed, directly in my line of vision, so that I could stare at her skirt covered backside for several minutes.
“….. nor do I think that either of them would approve of my allowing you to look at my bottom like that, particularly since you seemed to derive so much pleasure from it …...” Brenda followed up, and it was at that point that Brenda mentioned the name of another person who would be shocked to know what I had just done on my bed, namely my neighbor Bethany, the young high school soccer standout. Who coincidentally, had just come to the front door of the house, wanting to visit with me.
More precisely, Bethany had come to invite me over to her house, so that we could watch TV and make out. At least that was what Brenda was now telling me.
“Bethany seems like she can be a really aggressive young lady, when she wants to be ……. and she clearly has designs on you…..” Brenda warned me, but she went on to point out something that I already knew, which was that Bethany seemed to be a little young to be ‘making out’ with someone my age.
Luckily, Brenda had sent Bethany away, but I now had to worry about Brenda possibly bringing Bethany to my bedroom on some other day, to watch me “playing” my “hogtie game”, as Brenda liked to phrase it.
I was well aware that having Bethany as a witness would more than likely give her ideas of her own, since Bethany was a pushy, roughhousing type of girl, who had a reputation on the soccer field for using dirty tactics, such as tripping other players, and pulling other players down by their pony tails. And around the neighborhood, Bethany was well known for using her fists, along with her wrestling ability, to force other kids to do what she wanted.
And according to what I’d heard, Bethany didn’t just force her will on girls who own age, but on older girls as well. Even college girls, who happened to be the older sisters of Bethany’s friends. And Bethany was known to bully neighborhood boys, too.
So if Bethany were to find out about the so-called “hogtie game”, then she would undoubtedly want to “play” the game with me. And Bethany was the type of roughneck that wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer, getting physical with me if she needed to. And despite her young age, Bethany sure seemed like she was athletic enough to rough me up, if she wanted to.
I remember being really worried that day about what Bethany might do, because I could imagine Bethany forcing me to play the game with her, and then inviting some of the other neighborhood girls over to watch. Bethany had after all, been trying to get me to come over and “make out” with her, and when she had made that offer to me outside her house, it seemed as if she were mainly trying to impress the other neighborhood girls who were there at the time. So if Bethany were to hogtie me, she would most definitely want other neighborhood kids to know about her accomplishment, particularly if the game reached the “penalty” phase.
Later during that summer, I would in fact get drawn into a series of thoroughly embarrassing incidents with Bethany, incidents that would take place at her house. Incidents that would be witnessed by a number of females, such as her older sister Heather, her mother, and also by a few of the other neighborhood girls.
But I suppose I should get back to my story about the second time that Brenda tied me up, on that Tuesday morning. I had only just returned home from college one week earlier for a two month vacation, and I guess that I should have known better. But I had talked our housekeeper Brenda into tying me up, by making up a story about an alleged game that I supposedly played at college, a game in which I would get hogtied.
But Brenda was turning out to be much better with rope than I had ever expected her to be. It was a little frightening actually, because on both mornings, she had tied me a lot tighter than I wanted to be tied.
And Brenda’s first hogtie, on the previous day, had been so expertly tied that I had remained rigidly hogtied for over thirty five grueling minutes, during which time I truly believed that I wouldn’t be able to free myself.
In fact, it was just a matter of pure luck that I had somehow managed to escape at all. Brenda’s knots had been so tight and so well placed, that I had been forced to pick at the various knots for the entire thirty five minutes, leaving my fingers really sore and tender.
So sore and so tender that when Brenda insisted on playing the game again on that Tuesday morning, I knew that my achy fingers would not be any good to me on that second day.
Which meant that there was a really good chance that I would in fact not be able to escape, and that I would lose the game to Brenda.
But I had allowed her to tie me up on that second morning anyway, I guess because I was just too caught up in finally realizing my long time fantasy of being tightly tied up by a capable female.
As I lay there face down on my bed, waiting to have my ankles hogtied to my wrists for the second day in a row, my only comfort, if you could call it that, was that at least Brenda hadn’t brought Bethany to my bedroom as a witness. Which I had asked Brenda not to do, something that Brenda was only too eager to point out to me now.
“Since you said that you preferred for you and me to be alone, just the two of us, while we play your little hogtie game today, I told Bethany that you were busy in your bedroom, and couldn’t come to the front door right now…..” Brenda explained, but she quickly added that she hadn’t told Bethany why I couldn’t come to the door.
“……so you don’t need to worry …… I didn’t tell her that you were lying on your stomach on your bed, with your wrists tied behind your back …… and I didn’t tell her that your ankles and thighs were also tied…….” Brenda continued, reminding me once again that since this was a legitimate game that I was participating in at college, she might at some point decide to bring Kristie, or Bethany, or Mrs. McCauley to my bedroom, to watch me “playing” my game.
Then Brenda told me that she was flattered that a handsome and sophisticated college male like myself would want to be all alone in his bedroom with a woman her age, to play this college rope game of mine.
“….but don’t think for a minute that I’m going to be easy on you today….” Brenda warned me, assuring me that she planned to hogtie me even tighter than she had tied me the previous day. And she was going to be extra careful to hide all of the knots better as well. Because she intended on winning our game, just as she fully intended on collecting the game’s two penalties from me.
Most importantly, she was looking forward to doing her housework in peace, without me pestering her all day long.
“So are you ready to be hogtied all the way, my pesky young college man? ……. Now that you’ve had your fun on your mattress by yourself, and now that the two of us are all alone here in your bedroom, as you requested, are you ready for me to tether your wrists to your ankles once again? Like I did yesterday?” she asked me, and as Brenda reached down and retrieved a long strip of rope from the conspicuous pile on the side of my bed, I knew all too well that Brenda was planning to use that strip of strong rope to now hogtie me “all the way”, which was how Brenda liked to describe it. And I knew equally well that once Brenda hogtied me this time, I would most probably not be escaping. Not this time.
I guess I suddenly got scared about what I was in for that day, because as Brenda raised my bound ankles upwards off the bed, towards my tightly tied wrists, I abruptly went into a total panic, and I blurted out that my fingers were too sore and achy, so there was no way that I would be able to untie any of the knots. My fingers were already starting to cramp up, I complained to Brenda, adding that it wasn’t fair to play the game, if I couldn’t use my fingers to untie the knots.
So I didn’t want to play the game today after all. I just wanted to be untied, I told Brenda in a clearly distressed voice.
Then all of a sudden, I began to thrash around on my bed, jerking frantically on my bound wrists and ankles. At the same time, I quickly wailed out a promise not to pester Brenda while she did her housework.
But my abrupt outburst and my desperate struggles were simply scoffed at by Brenda, who proceeded to give me a thorough dressing down.
“Oh, stop your whining, you big, panicky crybaby …… It doesn’t matter how sore your fingers are. And I don’t care if your fingers are already cramping up. We’re playing the game today whether you want to play or not. And if you stay hogtied all day, that means I win the game, and you lose ……. and if you lose to me, you ARE going to be tickled, and you ARE going to lick my feet, for as long as I choose …… those are the rules of the game…..” Brenda told me, as she knelt down in a straddle position directly astride my shins, forcing my feet downward towards my wrists and utilizing her considerable weight to crush whatever resistance I was attempting to mount.
In the same instant, Brenda looped the tether rope around my bound ankles, then she quickly threaded the rope through the binding around my wrists.
“….. and about your promise not to pester me, after I’ve got you hogtied good and tight, you won’t be pestering me while I do my housework anyway …... Now be quiet while I finish hogtying you …..” Brenda snapped at me, then she had one last thing to say to me, which was possibly her most worrisome statement of all.
“But I certainly am glad that you decided to tell me about your little hogtie game, because we’re going to be playing this game of yours every day, for the remainder of the summer …… and every day that you lose the game to me, you ARE going to be tickled until you beg for mercy, and you WILL be licking my feet…….” Brenda vowed, reminding me that earlier that morning, she had proven to be strong enough to keep my wrists pinned behind my back and tie them together, even while I had been trying my best to pull free.
Which meant that she was going to be able to hogtie me, whenever she chose to do so, and against my will if necessary.
“So you and I will definitely be playing this game of yours every day this summer, until you go back to college, I can promise you that…..” Brenda declared, noting that it would be a perfect way to keep me fully occupied and out of her hair every day, while she did her housework in peace
While Brenda was talking, she was repeatedly yanking on the tether rope, bringing my ankles closer and closer down towards my wrists. For my part, I was continuing to thrash around on my bed, jerking on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, as I tried desperately to prevent Brenda from finalizing her hogtie.
But my situation was completely hopeless, because Brenda was just too strong, and too heavy, and she kept her husky thighs straddled down around my shins, which ensured that I would remain securely pinned in a face down position on my bed.
Most importantly, Brenda was just too good at hogtying me, much better than I had ever expected her to be. So she had very little difficulty keeping me immobilized beneath her, while she tightened the tether rope all the way, so that my bound ankles were soon forced all the way down against my knotted together wrists, with the rope pulled as tight as possible.
“Ok, once I tie the knots in the tether rope, I’m going to have you hogtied …….. so if you think you’re going to stop me, you’d better do it now….” Brenda warned me, as she tied the first knot.
Then she tied a second knot, jerking especially hard on the rope, to make sure that the second knot was tied just as tight as the first.
“Now quit resisting …… you’re hogtied now…..” she announced, and for good measure, she proceeded to tie several more knots, making sure to carefully position each of the knots out of the reach of my already aching fingers.
“I warned you I was going to tie you tighter today….. Brenda noted, and she was right. My wrists, my thighs, and my ankles were all very tightly bound, and my heels were pressed very snugly against the palms of my hands. With no slack in any of the ropes. None whatsoever.
In fact, I couldn’t move my arms or my legs at all, and I couldn’t move my fingers very far in any direction either.
“Ok, you’ve got all day to free yourself, or you lose the game ……. now put your face back down into your pillow, and start trying to escape…..” she told me, and as if to help me along, Brenda used her hand to force my face down into my fluffy pillow, pressing my nose and mouth down into the soft material and shutting off my air supply.
by tjlake » Sat Jan 30, 2016 11:05 am
As I lay there in a face down position on my bed on that Tuesday morning, it didn’t seem like only the second time that Brenda and I were playing our rope game. But maybe that was because Brenda had turned out to be a lot better at tying me up than I had expected her to be. On the previous day, she had secured me in a surprisingly effective hogtie, from which I had just barely managed to escape.
And now again one day later, as soon as my mother had left for work, Brenda had insisted on playing our game again, and she had proceeded to tie me the same way, face down on my bed with my wrists knotted tightly together behind my back, and with my ankles laced together. Except that during this game, Brenda had taken things even further, by stripping me all the way down to my underpants, and then tying my naked thighs together, despite my objections.
Then, when she had gotten to the point where she would be hogtying me all the way, she had stopped, and she had left me alone in my bedroom, face down on my bed, with my wrists tied behind my back, my ankles knotted together, and with my thighs now tied together as well.
I don’t know if it was the tightness of the ropes, or if it was the feeling of complete helplessness as I lay there on my stomach, but my excitement had gotten the better of me, for the second time in as many days.
And I’m pretty sure that Brenda’s other actions had also added to my arousal. Like shutting off my air by forcing my mouth and nose down into a fluffy pillow, or allowing me to stare at her skirt covered backside for several minutes before she left me alone in my bedroom.
Despite the fact that she was an undereducated housecleaner, Brenda seemed to instinctively understand that those actions on her part would enhance my male experience, as I ‘indulged’ my masculine needs, which was how Brenda had described what I did on my bed, as I lay there with my face pressed down into my pillow, stripped all the way down to my underpants and tightly bound.
And to make my situation even more delicate on that Tuesday morning, Brenda had returned to my bedroom just in time to witness the entire event, from the moment that my hips had begun to shudder uncontrollably, until I was lying there completely motionless on my bed afterwards, with my mouth, nose, and eyes still pressed down into the pillow.
But the instant that I heard Brenda’s voice, I lifted my face up, so that I could peer back over my shoulder. And sure enough, there she was, standing at the foot of my bed.
“You just did it again, didn’t you? Just like yesterday when I tied you up ….. I knew if I left you alone, you wouldn’t be able to control your manly urges…..“ Brenda chided me upon returning to my bedroom on that second morning. Then she noted that I obviously enjoyed being stripped to my underpants, and having my naked thighs laced together, while I was tied face down on my bed.
“….and don’t you dare try to deny it, because I just stood right here at the foot of your bed and watched you doing it ……. I watched you squirming around with your wrists tied behind your back, and your legs tied together, wiggling your bottom back and forth and rubbing yourself against your mattress, just like you did yesterday….” Brenda followed up, with that same look of revulsion once again on her face.
It was the very same look that she had given me the previous day, when she had quietly returned to my bedroom and caught me losing control of my sexuality in the exact same way.
“……. and now you’re lying there all tied up, looking so quiet and so satisfied, just like yesterday, with that guilty little boy smirk on your beet red face ….… so don’t even try to deny what you just did, when I left you alone to go and scrub your sink….” Brenda scolded me, as if she could barely contain her disgust over what I had just done in her presence, and for the second morning in a row no less.
But just as on the previous day, disgust wasn’t the only reaction that Brenda seemed to be experiencing. She also appeared to be increasingly intrigued that someone of my age and maturity level would commit such an unrestrained act of self gratification, while I was lying face down on my bed, with my wrists laced tightly behind my back, my ankles tied together, and with my thighs also lashed together.
And don’t forget that I was undressed all the way down to my underpants, so I must have put on quite a show for Brenda, stripped nearly naked and tightly bound as I was.
As Brenda moved around to the side of my bed, I remember thinking that she was now starting to look at my unclothed body a little too closely, which was causing me to feel increasingly self conscious, possibly because I was wearing nothing more than a pair of white briefs, while Brenda was fully dressed, in her collared work blouse and knee length skirt.
I was also feeling increasingly embarrassed, as I peered up over my shoulder at Brenda. There I was, a college senior, and I hadn’t been caught on just one morning, but on two straight mornings. Doing something on my bed that I never should have been caught doing.
With Brenda continuing to stand over me, frowning disdainfully down at me, I began to pull reflexively on my bindings, but the ropes around my wrists, ankles, and thighs were all so tightly and so securely tied that I couldn’t really move very much at all. So there wasn’t anything I could do, except to lie there on my stomach, with my wrists conspicuously bound behind my back, as I continued to gaze up over my shoulder at Brenda, who still appeared to be inspecting my uncovered male physique a little too closely.
By that point, I was starting to force a weak grin up at Brenda, because I could no longer contain my feeling of embarrassment, over having allowed Brenda to see me lose control like I had, and two days in a row no less.
And Brenda wasn’t done with me yet.
“At least I know that I must be tying you up the way that you like to be tied……” she concluded, noting that she would be sure to allow me some private time by myself, each and every time that we played our game during the long summer.
She would strip me down to my underpants, then she would tie my wrists, my ankles, and my thighs, after which she would go off and leave me alone for ten minutes, so that I could have my “fun”. Or so Brenda was now telling me.
Then she added that she was so glad that I had used my mattress to get my masculine impulses out of the way, because it was time for me to be hogtied all the way.
“…..now that you’ve indulged your lustful male urges, we can play your little rope game without having to worry about your pesky manly needs interfering while I hogtie your wrists to your ankles.....” she noted, but she did take a moment to explain to me that we most definitely shouldn’t tell my mother or my girlfriend Jennifer about what I had just done on my bed.
Because Brenda was certain that both my mother and Jennifer would be completely shocked to know that I had been pleasuring myself against my mattress, not once, but two days in a row.
“I’m certain that neither your mother nor your girlfriend Jennifer would approve of my assisting you like I am, by stripping you and tying your wrists behind your back …… and tying your ankles and thighs together as well……” Brenda pointed out, then she reminded me that there had been another way that she had assisted me, which was to stand at the side of my bed, directly in my line of vision, so that I could stare at her skirt covered backside for several minutes.
“….. nor do I think that either of them would approve of my allowing you to look at my bottom like that, particularly since you seemed to derive so much pleasure from it …...” Brenda followed up, and it was at that point that Brenda mentioned the name of another person who would be shocked to know what I had just done on my bed, namely my neighbor Bethany, the young high school soccer standout. Who coincidentally, had just come to the front door of the house, wanting to visit with me.
More precisely, Bethany had come to invite me over to her house, so that we could watch TV and make out. At least that was what Brenda was now telling me.
“Bethany seems like she can be a really aggressive young lady, when she wants to be ……. and she clearly has designs on you…..” Brenda warned me, but she went on to point out something that I already knew, which was that Bethany seemed to be a little young to be ‘making out’ with someone my age.
Luckily, Brenda had sent Bethany away, but I now had to worry about Brenda possibly bringing Bethany to my bedroom on some other day, to watch me “playing” my “hogtie game”, as Brenda liked to phrase it.
I was well aware that having Bethany as a witness would more than likely give her ideas of her own, since Bethany was a pushy, roughhousing type of girl, who had a reputation on the soccer field for using dirty tactics, such as tripping other players, and pulling other players down by their pony tails. And around the neighborhood, Bethany was well known for using her fists, along with her wrestling ability, to force other kids to do what she wanted.
And according to what I’d heard, Bethany didn’t just force her will on girls who own age, but on older girls as well. Even college girls, who happened to be the older sisters of Bethany’s friends. And Bethany was known to bully neighborhood boys, too.
So if Bethany were to find out about the so-called “hogtie game”, then she would undoubtedly want to “play” the game with me. And Bethany was the type of roughneck that wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer, getting physical with me if she needed to. And despite her young age, Bethany sure seemed like she was athletic enough to rough me up, if she wanted to.
I remember being really worried that day about what Bethany might do, because I could imagine Bethany forcing me to play the game with her, and then inviting some of the other neighborhood girls over to watch. Bethany had after all, been trying to get me to come over and “make out” with her, and when she had made that offer to me outside her house, it seemed as if she were mainly trying to impress the other neighborhood girls who were there at the time. So if Bethany were to hogtie me, she would most definitely want other neighborhood kids to know about her accomplishment, particularly if the game reached the “penalty” phase.
Later during that summer, I would in fact get drawn into a series of thoroughly embarrassing incidents with Bethany, incidents that would take place at her house. Incidents that would be witnessed by a number of females, such as her older sister Heather, her mother, and also by a few of the other neighborhood girls.
But I suppose I should get back to my story about the second time that Brenda tied me up, on that Tuesday morning. I had only just returned home from college one week earlier for a two month vacation, and I guess that I should have known better. But I had talked our housekeeper Brenda into tying me up, by making up a story about an alleged game that I supposedly played at college, a game in which I would get hogtied.
But Brenda was turning out to be much better with rope than I had ever expected her to be. It was a little frightening actually, because on both mornings, she had tied me a lot tighter than I wanted to be tied.
And Brenda’s first hogtie, on the previous day, had been so expertly tied that I had remained rigidly hogtied for over thirty five grueling minutes, during which time I truly believed that I wouldn’t be able to free myself.
In fact, it was just a matter of pure luck that I had somehow managed to escape at all. Brenda’s knots had been so tight and so well placed, that I had been forced to pick at the various knots for the entire thirty five minutes, leaving my fingers really sore and tender.
So sore and so tender that when Brenda insisted on playing the game again on that Tuesday morning, I knew that my achy fingers would not be any good to me on that second day.
Which meant that there was a really good chance that I would in fact not be able to escape, and that I would lose the game to Brenda.
But I had allowed her to tie me up on that second morning anyway, I guess because I was just too caught up in finally realizing my long time fantasy of being tightly tied up by a capable female.
As I lay there face down on my bed, waiting to have my ankles hogtied to my wrists for the second day in a row, my only comfort, if you could call it that, was that at least Brenda hadn’t brought Bethany to my bedroom as a witness. Which I had asked Brenda not to do, something that Brenda was only too eager to point out to me now.
“Since you said that you preferred for you and me to be alone, just the two of us, while we play your little hogtie game today, I told Bethany that you were busy in your bedroom, and couldn’t come to the front door right now…..” Brenda explained, but she quickly added that she hadn’t told Bethany why I couldn’t come to the door.
“……so you don’t need to worry …… I didn’t tell her that you were lying on your stomach on your bed, with your wrists tied behind your back …… and I didn’t tell her that your ankles and thighs were also tied…….” Brenda continued, reminding me once again that since this was a legitimate game that I was participating in at college, she might at some point decide to bring Kristie, or Bethany, or Mrs. McCauley to my bedroom, to watch me “playing” my game.
Then Brenda told me that she was flattered that a handsome and sophisticated college male like myself would want to be all alone in his bedroom with a woman her age, to play this college rope game of mine.
“….but don’t think for a minute that I’m going to be easy on you today….” Brenda warned me, assuring me that she planned to hogtie me even tighter than she had tied me the previous day. And she was going to be extra careful to hide all of the knots better as well. Because she intended on winning our game, just as she fully intended on collecting the game’s two penalties from me.
Most importantly, she was looking forward to doing her housework in peace, without me pestering her all day long.
“So are you ready to be hogtied all the way, my pesky young college man? ……. Now that you’ve had your fun on your mattress by yourself, and now that the two of us are all alone here in your bedroom, as you requested, are you ready for me to tether your wrists to your ankles once again? Like I did yesterday?” she asked me, and as Brenda reached down and retrieved a long strip of rope from the conspicuous pile on the side of my bed, I knew all too well that Brenda was planning to use that strip of strong rope to now hogtie me “all the way”, which was how Brenda liked to describe it. And I knew equally well that once Brenda hogtied me this time, I would most probably not be escaping. Not this time.
I guess I suddenly got scared about what I was in for that day, because as Brenda raised my bound ankles upwards off the bed, towards my tightly tied wrists, I abruptly went into a total panic, and I blurted out that my fingers were too sore and achy, so there was no way that I would be able to untie any of the knots. My fingers were already starting to cramp up, I complained to Brenda, adding that it wasn’t fair to play the game, if I couldn’t use my fingers to untie the knots.
So I didn’t want to play the game today after all. I just wanted to be untied, I told Brenda in a clearly distressed voice.
Then all of a sudden, I began to thrash around on my bed, jerking frantically on my bound wrists and ankles. At the same time, I quickly wailed out a promise not to pester Brenda while she did her housework.
But my abrupt outburst and my desperate struggles were simply scoffed at by Brenda, who proceeded to give me a thorough dressing down.
“Oh, stop your whining, you big, panicky crybaby …… It doesn’t matter how sore your fingers are. And I don’t care if your fingers are already cramping up. We’re playing the game today whether you want to play or not. And if you stay hogtied all day, that means I win the game, and you lose ……. and if you lose to me, you ARE going to be tickled, and you ARE going to lick my feet, for as long as I choose …… those are the rules of the game…..” Brenda told me, as she knelt down in a straddle position directly astride my shins, forcing my feet downward towards my wrists and utilizing her considerable weight to crush whatever resistance I was attempting to mount.
In the same instant, Brenda looped the tether rope around my bound ankles, then she quickly threaded the rope through the binding around my wrists.
“….. and about your promise not to pester me, after I’ve got you hogtied good and tight, you won’t be pestering me while I do my housework anyway …... Now be quiet while I finish hogtying you …..” Brenda snapped at me, then she had one last thing to say to me, which was possibly her most worrisome statement of all.
“But I certainly am glad that you decided to tell me about your little hogtie game, because we’re going to be playing this game of yours every day, for the remainder of the summer …… and every day that you lose the game to me, you ARE going to be tickled until you beg for mercy, and you WILL be licking my feet…….” Brenda vowed, reminding me that earlier that morning, she had proven to be strong enough to keep my wrists pinned behind my back and tie them together, even while I had been trying my best to pull free.
Which meant that she was going to be able to hogtie me, whenever she chose to do so, and against my will if necessary.
“So you and I will definitely be playing this game of yours every day this summer, until you go back to college, I can promise you that…..” Brenda declared, noting that it would be a perfect way to keep me fully occupied and out of her hair every day, while she did her housework in peace
While Brenda was talking, she was repeatedly yanking on the tether rope, bringing my ankles closer and closer down towards my wrists. For my part, I was continuing to thrash around on my bed, jerking on my tightly bound wrists and ankles, as I tried desperately to prevent Brenda from finalizing her hogtie.
But my situation was completely hopeless, because Brenda was just too strong, and too heavy, and she kept her husky thighs straddled down around my shins, which ensured that I would remain securely pinned in a face down position on my bed.
Most importantly, Brenda was just too good at hogtying me, much better than I had ever expected her to be. So she had very little difficulty keeping me immobilized beneath her, while she tightened the tether rope all the way, so that my bound ankles were soon forced all the way down against my knotted together wrists, with the rope pulled as tight as possible.
“Ok, once I tie the knots in the tether rope, I’m going to have you hogtied …….. so if you think you’re going to stop me, you’d better do it now….” Brenda warned me, as she tied the first knot.
Then she tied a second knot, jerking especially hard on the rope, to make sure that the second knot was tied just as tight as the first.
“Now quit resisting …… you’re hogtied now…..” she announced, and for good measure, she proceeded to tie several more knots, making sure to carefully position each of the knots out of the reach of my already aching fingers.
“I warned you I was going to tie you tighter today….. Brenda noted, and she was right. My wrists, my thighs, and my ankles were all very tightly bound, and my heels were pressed very snugly against the palms of my hands. With no slack in any of the ropes. None whatsoever.
In fact, I couldn’t move my arms or my legs at all, and I couldn’t move my fingers very far in any direction either.
“Ok, you’ve got all day to free yourself, or you lose the game ……. now put your face back down into your pillow, and start trying to escape…..” she told me, and as if to help me along, Brenda used her hand to force my face down into my fluffy pillow, pressing my nose and mouth down into the soft material and shutting off my air supply.
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mattjensen
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Glad this is continuing!
Home Alone with Brenda - Part 7
tjlake » Mon Apr 25, 2016 7:44 pm
On that Tuesday morning, it took me a full 90 minutes of intense effort, but I did in fact manage to eventually untie all of Brenda’s knots. She seemed really disappointed that she wasn’t able to keep me hogtied all day long and enforce the game’s penalties on me, but once again, she told me that she would “honor the rules” of our game. I had escaped “fair and square”, so I won, or so she told me. And she said that she would accept the outcome, even though she seemed quite upset that I had somehow succeeded in freeing myself from her hogtie, for the second day in a row.
Then Brenda gathered up the four strips of rope that she’d used to hogtie me, along with the other three remaining strips, and she put them away in my underwear drawer, underneath my underpants. After that, she went off and did her housework, mostly ignoring me for the rest of the morning and afternoon.
I thought that by playing the game with me every day, Brenda might develop a less hostile attitude towards me, but on Wednesday and again on Thursday, I could see that Brenda was definitely growing more annoyed with me each day. I’m pretty sure that the reason that Brenda was becoming more irritated with me, was because she really thought that she would be able to tie me up so that I would stay hogtied all day long.
But I ended up winning our game on both days, and Brenda didn’t seem to like it when she lost to me.
What I do remember is that on both Wednesday and Thursday morning, as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda would immediately appear at my bedroom door, telling me that she wanted to play the rope game with me again. Or as she called it, my “college hogtie game”.
Brenda apparently hadn’t forgotten that I had scolded her the previous week about walking into my bedroom without permission, because each day, she would stand in my doorway with a scowl on her face, and she would quietly ask if she could enter my room.
When I would tell her it was okay to come in, she would quickly retrieve the ropes from my underwear drawer, then she would hastily undress me.
Brenda would remain fully clothed, in her knee length skirt and work blouse, while I would be stripped all the way down to my underpants. For my part, I was becoming increasingly worried about allowing Brenda to strip me like that each day, since she was continually informing me that she was thinking about bringing one of our neighbors to my bedroom, to watch me as I tried to escape.
Each time that Brenda would mention bringing a witness to my room, she was very casual about it, as if it would be a perfectly normal thing for her to do, to allow one of my female neighbors to be there in my bedroom, while I wriggled helplessly around on my bed, after Brenda had stripped me and hogtied me.
“Since it’s a game that sophisticated young men like yourself are playing at college these days, I see no reason why young Kristie or Bethany shouldn’t be allowed to stand above you and watch you, while you lay there on your bed try to escape from your hogtie…..” Brenda would tell me, and not just once, but several times during each of our morning games.
Brenda would further explain to me that if one of my neighbors were there in my bedroom, it would allow Brenda to go off and start her housework, leaving Kristie, or Bethany, or possibly even Mrs. McCauley, to serve not only as a spectator, but as a referee of sorts.
But Brenda was also telling me that she would need to instruct the witness not to untie me, or to assist me in any way, no matter how uncomfortable I looked, or how many times I asked to be untied.
“…..I’ll have to make sure that Kristie, and Bethany, and Mrs. McCauley understand that the rules of the game are that you have all day long to try to escape, and that you need to free yourself from your hogtie, completely on your own, without any help from anyone…….” Brenda would tell me, noting that she would also have to explain the two penalties to the witness, in case I were to lose the game to Brenda.
Needless to say, I was becoming increasingly worried about Brenda bringing a spectator to one of our morning rope games, and it was for that reason that I would tell Brenda that I didn’t want her to undress me all the way down to my underpants. But each morning, Brenda would insist on removing my clothing before she tied me up, telling me that she needed to do that for two reasons. First, she would be able to tie me tighter if I was stripped, and secondly, it would be more “fun” for me.
Brenda was quite stubborn about it, to the point that when I tried to prevent her from removing my clothing, she would strip me against my will, getting quite rough with me in the process. She would aggressively yank my shirt up over my head, and while my arms were now being trapped inside my shirt, Brenda would forcibly pull my pants down my legs, all the way down around my ankles.
Then while I was off balance, with my arms still ensnared by my shirt, and with my pants pulled down around my ankles, Brenda would aggressively shove me backwards onto my bed, after which she would quickly remove my shoes, socks, pants, and shirt.
So I would end up being undressed all the way down to my underpants anyway, despite my objections, and despite my growing fears about Brenda making good on her threat to bring a spectator to my bedroom, to serve as a sort of “referee” for our rope game. And by “referee”, Brenda meant that the spectator would stand there above me and watch, as I lay there face down and wriggling around on my mattress, stripped down to my underpants and trying my hardest to free myself from my hogtie.
Adding to my concerns, Brenda continued her practice of tossing my pieces of clothing in a conspicuous pile on the floor just inside my bedroom door, so that anyone walking into my room would very definitely notice all of my stripped away clothes lying on the floor in plain sight.
In any case, after Brenda would shove me down onto my bed an undress me each morning, she would forcefully turn me over onto my stomach, then she would climb up on the bed on top of me, telling me that she was ready to tie my wrists behind my back.
It was time to start our hogtie game, she would inform me.
So there I would be, lying face down on my bed, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton briefs, with Brenda on top of me, straddling me and staring coldly down at me. Each morning that we played, I remember how Brenda’s long, husky thighs felt really warm and heavy on top of me, and I also recall how Brenda felt awfully strong, as she would proceed to grab both of my wrists in her hands and forcefully yank them up behind my back.
Each morning, there would be that moment of sudden panic on my part, just before Brenda would begin to tie my wrists together. I don’t know why I waited each day until Brenda had captured my wrists in her capable hands, before I would abruptly tell Brenda that I had changed my mind and didn’t want to play the game after all.
But that’s exactly what would happen. Just when Brenda would forcefully twist my wrists behind my back and pin them firmly together, I guess the reality of my situation would set in. I would suddenly get scared, about what if Brenda was able to keep me hogtied all day long. And then of course I would get scared about what if I really did end up being forced to submit to both of the highly undesirable penalties.
That was a big fear of mine, but I think that my main concern was that I knew that I would never be able to live down the embarrassment, if I were ever to be discovered, stripped all the way down to my underpants and hogtied face down on my bed, by one of my female neighbors.
So I guess there were a few different reasons that would cause me to suddenly panic, just as Brenda would start to tie my wrists behind my back. I would abruptly begin to jerk on my arms, trying to pull free from Brenda’s tight grip, in order to back out of our game.
Unfortunately for me, I would re-discover what I already knew, which was that Brenda was too strong for me. I would thrash around and tug on my arms with everything I had, only to have Brenda calmly tighten her grip around my wrists, clenching them firmly together behind my back with one hand. Then she would bear down in her straddle position on top of me, and begin to tie my wrists together with one of the long strips of rope.
With me continuing to struggle, Brenda would proceed to loop the rope around my wrists, painstakingly tightening each loop as snugly as possible. Then she would crossloop the rope several times and tie several tight knots.
“You know that I have no trouble keeping your wrists pinned behind your back, so I don’t understand why you suddenly get all flustered, and try to pull free, every time we start to play your little rope game……” Brenda would chide me, following up with a stern warning about what she had planned for me, during the rest of my summerlong vacation:
“You should know by now that I’m stronger than you are, and I’m not going to let you back out of our rope game, young man…..” Brenda would continue, before telling me that she fully intended on hogtying me every day that she came to the house, every day for the remainder of the summer.
“The only way for me to keep you from being a pest is to hogtie you, so we ARE going to play your game ….. every day ….. whether you want to play or not……” she would warn me, and I’m not sure why, but I always felt really embarrassed when Brenda would taunt me about how she was able to forcibly hogtie me, even when I didn’t want to be tied up. I guess a female wasn’t supposed to be stronger than a male, and wasn’t supposed to be able to hogtie him against his will. So when Brenda would point out to me that she was able to easily overpower me, and could in fact force me into bondage whenever she wanted, it would cause me to blush with intense humiliation. But I would say nothing.
One thing that I remember, though, was that during those first few times that Brenda tied me up, I would get really nervous over the realization that Brenda was proving herself to be physically stronger than I was. And I would also find myself feeling uneasy about what the game’s outcome was going to be that day. I guess my unease was due to the fact that even during our very first game, Brenda had already turned out to be surprisingly good with rope, clearly a natural at hogtying someone.
What was even more significant was that with each day, Brenda tied the rope a little tighter, and she got a little bit better at hogtying me. As good as she was that first time, she continued to get even more confident in her knot tying ability, with each day that she played the game with me. She would tell me that she bet it would wipe the smug grin off my face, if she were able to win, and if she were able to impose the game‘s penalties on me, those penalties being that she would give me a tickling, and that she would force me to lick her feet.
All of which she would do while I was still securely hogtied and unable to stop her, she would remind me, vowing that she would not be releasing me from my hogtie, not until after she had forcibly collected both penalties from me.
With each passing day, I could see that it was definitely becoming an obsession with Brenda, to win and to not only enforce the game’s two penalties on me, but to enforce the penalties while I remained hogtied and unable to resist her in any way. That would teach me some much needed respect, she would tell me each morning, at the beginning of that day’s game.
Despite my unease over how strong and how capable Brenda was turning out to be, and in spite of my apprehension over where my relationship with Brenda was heading, I kept acting especially cocky throughout the games of that first week, insisting to Brenda that she could never keep me hogtied all day long. So she would never get to tickle me, nor would I ever have to lick her feet, or so I kept telling Brenda.
But despite my outward confidence, I was becoming increasingly concerned that she was going to end up collecting the penalties from me, because during the first four games, on that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I only barely managed to escape each day, and only after a very long time. And by that Friday morning, as we were set to play our fifth game of the week, my fingers were so sore and so tender, that I could barely move them. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t stay in the house that morning.
I truly did consider leaving the house that morning before my mother went to work, because I thought that I really needed to back out of our game that day, so that I could have that Friday, along with two full weekend days, to be able to finally rest my aching fingers.
I remember that on that Friday morning, as I waited for Brenda to arrive at the house, I was genuinely worried about what the outcome of that day’s game was going to be. And I knew that once my mother left the house and Brenda entered my bedroom, it would be too late to back out, because I knew from past experience that Brenda would shove me down on my bed, and insist on playing our rope game, whether I wanted to play or not.
But despite my fears that I was going to lose our game on that Friday morning, I nonetheless waited in my bedroom for Brenda to come and undress me. Even when I heard my mother leaving the house, I continued to wait anxiously in my room, maybe because deep down, I was curious if Brenda would truly be able to hogtie me so that I wouldn’t be able to escape, for real this time.
For her part during the course of that week, Brenda had started to ask me if she should use more of the ropes on me, so that she could tie me in some other area, more than just my wrists, ankles, and thighs. She was, after all, using only 4 of the 7 ropes that she had originally cut, or so she was quick to point out to me each day that we played. One strip of rope was being used on my wrists, another on my ankles, a third rope on my bared thighs, and the fourth to hogtie my wrists to my ankles.
But Brenda kept saying that she wanted to use more than just 4 strips of rope.
I would insist to Brenda that I wanted her to tie only my wrists and my ankles, because tying my wrists and ankles was enough. In fact, after she had tied my thighs together on the second day, I kept telling her that I didn’t want her to tie my thighs. I really didn’t.
But Brenda went ahead and tied my legs just above my knees, on that Wednesday, and again on that Thursday. As much as I was instructing her not to do it, there was no way for me to stop Brenda from tying my naked thighs together anyway. After all, I was lying face down on my bed with my wrists already bound behind my back, and with my ankles already tied together, which meant that Brenda could do whatever she wanted to do to me.
And she definitely wanted to tie my thighs together.
“It’ll be more fun for you when I leave you alone on your bed …… so your thighs need to be tied good and tight, young man….” she would tell me, and I guess she was right about it being more enjoyable for me. Because each morning when she would walk out of my bedroom and leave me by myself for those ten minutes, my excitement would get the better of me. No sooner would Brenda leave my bedroom, I would begin to wriggle around on my bed, and the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, ankles, and thighs would send waves of raw arousal rushing throughout my body, waves of arousal that I couldn’t suppress, no matter how hard I tried.
In no time at all, I would find myself pressing my face down into my pillow, and things would quickly spin out of control, until my hips and bottom would begin to shudder uncontrollably.
I really did try to stifle my lusty feelings, because I most definitely didn’t want Brenda to know that I had once again lost control of my male sexuality. But each day, she would end up catching me having my “fun” on my bed, which was one of the many ways that she would describe what she caught me doing every day.
And even though Brenda was telling me that she was going off to scrub my bathroom sink, I was pretty sure that she was actually standing right outside my bedroom door, standing there and listening to what was happening inside my room. I say that, because each morning, no sooner would my excitement spin away from me, I would lift my head up from my pillow, and there Brenda would be, standing quietly at the foot of my bed, frowning down at me for “indulging” myself again.
She even began to use a specific word to describe what I was doing, and it was a word that caused me considerable shame and embarrassment.
“You just masturbated against your mattress again, didn’t you?” she would ask, and I would want to tell her that I couldn’t help myself, because of the way that she had my wrists tied behind my back, and because of the way that she had laced the ropes so securely around my ankles and my thighs.
I would want to tell Brenda that it was her fault, for tying the ropes so tight. But whenever Brenda would speak to me in that scolding tone of hers, and accuse me of masturbating against my mattress, I would just lie there in my face down position, and I wouldn’t say anything, because I knew that there was nothing I could say that would excuse what Brenda had just caught me doing.
My face would turn deep red, however, particularly when Brenda would bring up my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer.
“I can’t imagine that they would still think so highly of you, if either of them were to ever walk into your bedroom and watch you do what you just did….” Brenda would point out, wondering how my mother or Jennifer might react, if either of them were to find out how I was pleasuring myself each morning in my bedroom, while I was lying face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together.
“I’m certain that they would be very disappointed with you, to say the least, if they knew that you were doing something that disgusting in your bedroom every day, while you and I are playing your college hogtie game, and while I’ve got you stripped and tied up on your bed…” Brenda would follow up, adding that she didn’t realize that a male could gratify himself in that way, while he was lying on his stomach with his wrists bound behind his back.
“…..but at least I know that I must be tying you the way that you like to be tied…….” she would continue, further noting that I seemed to truly enjoy not only having my wrists laced together behind my back, but having my ankles and thighs tied “extra tight” as well.
And Brenda was very probably right about that. Because it seemed that the tighter she tied me, the harder it was for me to control myself, during those 10 minute periods each morning, when Brenda would walk out of my bedroom and inform me that she was going to leave me alone.
“I’m going to scrub your bathroom sink …. So you can go ahead and put your face down into your fluffy pillow and have your dirty little fun……” she would tell me.
As I noted, I really was trying to curb my arousal, because each day, I was concerned that Brenda was in fact going to walk back in to my room and catch me. Which was exactly what she would end up doing. And I knew that every time that she did catch me, and every time that she would shake her head with disgust and scold me for “masturbating” against my mattress, a dangerous precedent was not only being set, but was being reinforced.
Nonetheless each morning, I couldn’t prevent myself from getting swept away in the excitement of the moment, as I lay there face down on my bed, with my wrists bound behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together. I guess I was just being overwhelmed by the feeling of complete helplessness, because during each of our morning rope games, Brenda was tying me so very securely, and so very tight. Even during our first few games, Brenda was proving to be surprisingly good with rope.
And the way that she was continuing to speak to me was so demeaning, and so thoroughly humbling.
“I really can’t believe that you could do such a thing, while you’re lying there on your stomach, with your wrists tied behind your back ……. You must like being tied up really tight, don’t you?“ Brenda would needle me, and as the week progressed, she began to relate a story to me, a story that she herself had heard when she was a young girl growing up. According to Brenda, one of the neighborhood mothers was supposedly tying her son’s wrists behind his back, to prevent him from playing with himself, while she was off at work each day. Apparently, the mother would leave her son home alone all day, with his wrists bound behind his back, and she would untie his wrists only upon her return home each night. And the mother would allegedly re-tie her son’s wrists at bedtime, to stop him from playing with himself during the night. That mother was supposedly tying her son’s wrists from the time he was a young boy, all the way until he went away to college.
But at some point during the week, Brenda got the idea into her head that she might apply that story from her childhood to my own situation.
“…..if your mother or Jennifer were ever to catch us playing your hogtie game, I might just tell them that I walked in and found you gratifying yourself in your bedroom, so I decided that your wrists needed to be tied behind your back, to prevent you from misbehaving while I did my housework…….” Brenda informed me, adding that she might also have to reveal to my mother and to Jennifer that it was fortunate that she turned out to be physically stronger than me, because I didn’t want to be tied, so Brenda had to forcibly bind my wrists behind my back, against my will.
As if that wouldn’t be embarrassing enough of a story, Brenda went on to say that in addition, she might have to tell my mother and Jennifer that even though she was tying my wrists behind my back, I continued to pleasure myself on my bed, so Brenda was forced to take even more drastic action, which was to hogtie me all the way.
“That’s what I ought to tell them, that I had to hogtie you tighter and tighter each day, for you own good, to break you of your disgusting habit…..” Brenda would tell me.
But despite everything that Brenda was saying, she seemed to be very clearly aware that it was the tightness of the ropes that was causing me to do what I was doing on my bed every day. Maybe that was why Brenda continued to tie me a little bit tighter, each time that she tied me up.
Which might have been why it took me a little longer each day to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. On that Wednesday, and again on Thursday, Brenda tied the ropes noticeably tighter than she had on the previous day, even though I kept telling her that the ropes were a bit too tight.
But Brenda would simply ignore my protests.
“They’re supposed to be too tight……that way, it’ll be harder for you to escape….that’s the point of your college hogtie game, isn’t it? I’m supposed to try to keep you hogtied all day long, aren’t I?” she would respond, and she was right about it being more difficult for me to escape each morning that we played our rope game. While it had taken me a full ninety minutes to escape on that Tuesday, it took me even longer on Wednesday and Thursday. Brenda had wound the ropes so tightly, and I had wriggled powerlessly around on my mattress, jerking futilely on my hogtied wrists and ankles, while Brenda stood quietly at the side of my bed, watching very closely.
Each day, I had to really try, and I mean I had to really try my hardest. On Wednesday and Thursday morning, I even gave up trying numerous times, and I would just lie there, helplessly hogtied, my fingers achy and cramping up, as I peered sheepishly back up over my shoulder at Brenda, secretly hoping that maybe she would go ahead and untie me.
But Brenda would simply stare down at me, an unsmiling, icy stare. And instead of showing any sympathy regarding my obvious discomfort, she would merely instruct me to keep trying to escape.
“You have to free yourself on your own. Those are the rules ….. And remember, if Kristie, or Bethany, or Mrs. McCauley come to watch you play your little rope game, I’ll be giving them instructions not to untie you, or help you in any way…..” Brenda would tell me, while continually reminding me of the penalties, if I were to end up losing our game. Then Brenda would further warn me that she expected me to honor the game’s outcome if I lost, just as she accepted the outcome every time that I won.
In fact, Brenda was quite insistent about that, telling me that if I lost, she was fully committed to not only tickling me, but forcing me to lick her bare feet for as long as she wished, while I remained hogtied.
Fortunately, however, on both Wednesday and Thursday, after just over two full hours of struggling, I finally succeeded in loosening the knots and releasing the tether rope, after which I was able to eventually untie the rope that was binding my wrists together.
During each of our first four games that week, Brenda would wait in my bedroom and watch me trying to escape, and she seemed truly upset when I would finally manage to free myself. But I could tell that she was not only becoming more enthusiastic about playing the game with me, but that each day, she was growing more confident in her ability to hogtie me. Each time that she tied me up, she was able to loop and crossloop the ropes more quickly, and she was tying the knots tighter, and more effectively.
More to the point, Brenda seemed to know that she was doing a really good job, and she also seemed to realize that my success in escaping was mostly a matter of luck on my part.
And Brenda was also well aware that my fingers were getting really achy and tender, because she began to remark that I wasn’t able to pick at the knots with very much success.
“Are your fingers getting sore?” she would ask me, and when I would admit that they were in fact getting really sore, Brenda would look pleased, as if she understood that it was only a matter of time, maybe only one more day, or two days at the most, until I would no longer be able to loosen the knots with my fingers. I think that Brenda’s steadily increasing confidence was due to the fact that she knew that she was going to end up winning our game, and soon.
But during that first week, each time that I would once again manage to escape, I would grin triumphantly up at her, gloating over the fact that I had won again, and was still ‘undefeated’ at our game. That seemed to really get Brenda riled up, and she would assure me that she was going to tie me even better, and even tighter, when we played the game the next morning. And she would warn me not to be so cocky, because pretty soon, she was going to tie me so that I stayed hogtied all day long.
Each night during that week, I would visit my girlfriend Jennifer at her house, and we would make out on the living room couch, while Jennifer’s mother was in another room. But during my evenings with Jennifer, and then later, after I got home from my date, I was thinking only about Brenda, and not at all about Jennifer.
It was probably more accurate to say that I was totally fixating on Brenda, in anticipation of the following morning when Brenda would be returning to my house. After all, this tall, powerfully built cleaning woman wasn’t just enthusiastic about playing my rope game with me, but she had become downright obsessive about playing. The minute that my mother would leave the house to go to work each morning, Brenda would show up at my bedroom door, eager to strip me and tie me up.
During those first four mornings, I was lucky enough to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. But on Wednesday, and again on Thursday, I really didn’t think I was going to be able to free myself. And by the time I finally did untie all of Brenda’s knots, I was so weak and so physically drained, that I was just lying there, face down in my underpants, unable to get up from my bed for quite some time. While I had been bound for those two hours on each of those mornings, I had in fact been very effectively immobilized, in extremely restrictive and seemingly inescapable hogties. Which was what I would think about while I was with Jennifer each night at her house.
While I would be kissing Jennifer in her living room, I would think about how frustratingly tight and uncomfortable that morning’s hogtie had been. But I would also be thinking about all of the strange yet intriguing sensations that I had experienced, while I had been lying there on my bed, so expertly bound by Brenda. Then I would find myself dwelling on how embarrassing it would be, if Brenda were ever to make good on her threat, that if we ever got caught by my mother or by Jennifer, then she would simply have to explain what the two of us had been doing every morning in my bedroom.
There was the true explanation, which was that Brenda and I were playing a college “hogtie” game, a game that I had talked Brenda into playing, and that Brenda was proving to be very good at. And then there was the fabricated story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, which was that Brenda had caught me ”misbehaving” in my bedroom, so she had decided to forcibly tie my wrists behind my back, to try to prevent me from indulging myself, when I was alone in my room. And when Brenda had again caught me doing it, even after she had tied my wrists, she had decided that the only way to break me of my “disgusting” habit, was to hogtie me all the way.
At least that was the story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, should either of them find out about that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom every day.
I wasn’t sure which explanation would be more shocking for my mother or Jennifer, the true story, or the fictitious explanation that Brenda wanted to tell, about how she caught me “masturbating”, and decided to forcibly tie me up, against my will.
And then the fifth time that Brenda hogtied me, on that Friday morning, Brenda stayed away from my room, and she completely ignored me as she usually did. But as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda immediately appeared at my bedroom door, asking permission to enter my room while telling me in an impatient voice that she wanted to play my “hogtie game” again.
She proceeded to strip me down to my underpants, only this time, she told me that she’d been thinking about it a lot during the past couple of days, thinking about what I had related to her, when I had originally told her my story about what my college girlfriend had supposedly done with me.
And then Brenda surprised me by informing me that before she hogtied me, she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, which was the way that she worded it that day. When I flashed an uneasy grin at her, she casually explained that she had gone shopping at a lingerie boutique after work on the previous evening, and she wanted to dress me in a short silk miniskirt, along with some feminine undergarments that she’d purchased, specifically for me, and specifically for our game.
Apparently, Brenda was no longer bothered by the concerns that she had expressed to me one week earlier, one of those concerns being that she didn’t know me well enough to dress me in female underwear. And I guess that she was no longer worried about whether our neighbors might find out and get the wrong idea, about what Brenda and I were doing in my bedroom every day.
Another concern that Brenda had conveyed one week earlier was that both my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer might not approve of Brenda dressing me up in feminine underclothing and then hogtying me, while the two of us were alone in the house. But I guess that Brenda was no longer worried about that either.
Maybe Brenda felt that she now knew me well enough, because she had hogtied me four times already that week, which might have caused her to begin to feel a certain level of familiarity towards me.
And let’s not forget that on every one of the four days, Brenda had allowed me to gaze at her skirt covered bottom for a fairly long time, before leaving me alone in my bedroom, for those ten minutes of tightly bound helplessness on my bed.
Each day, she had stood at the side of my bed, directly in my line of vision, so that I could look closely at her wide, skirt covered bottom, before she would leave the room, in order that I might indulge my “masculine impulses”, as Brenda called it.
It should also be noted that on each of those four mornings, Brenda had walked in on me, and she had caught me in the act of self gratification, as I lay there face down, with my wrists tied tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs bound together.
So maybe it was because of a combination of all of those reasons, that on that Friday morning, Brenda seemed to have gotten over her initial shock, and her possible distaste, over the thought of a sophisticated college male being dressed up in female lingerie and then hogtied.
Looking back now, though, I think that the main reason for Brenda’s decision to dress me up in feminine underwear, could very well have been that she was confident that this was the day that she was going to win our game.
Which might explain why Brenda had changed her mind about dressing me up in women’s underclothing on that Friday morning. It’s very possible that Brenda was convinced that this was the day that she was going to keep me hogtied, and she had decided that dressing me up like a girl, in a short silk miniskirt and frilly ladies’ underwear, might just be the first step in the process of wiping the smug grin off my face, which at that point in our tense and decidedly unfriendly relationship, Brenda clearly wanted to do. She wanted to embarrass and humiliate me, and she wanted to teach me some respect.
And what better way to do it than to dress me up in feminine lingerie, and then leave me hogtied all day long in my bedroom, unable to free myself.
Whatever the case, after four days of playing tie-up games with me, Brenda told me that she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, in female underwear and a short silk skirt, before she hogtied me.
tjlake » Mon Apr 25, 2016 7:44 pm
On that Tuesday morning, it took me a full 90 minutes of intense effort, but I did in fact manage to eventually untie all of Brenda’s knots. She seemed really disappointed that she wasn’t able to keep me hogtied all day long and enforce the game’s penalties on me, but once again, she told me that she would “honor the rules” of our game. I had escaped “fair and square”, so I won, or so she told me. And she said that she would accept the outcome, even though she seemed quite upset that I had somehow succeeded in freeing myself from her hogtie, for the second day in a row.
Then Brenda gathered up the four strips of rope that she’d used to hogtie me, along with the other three remaining strips, and she put them away in my underwear drawer, underneath my underpants. After that, she went off and did her housework, mostly ignoring me for the rest of the morning and afternoon.
I thought that by playing the game with me every day, Brenda might develop a less hostile attitude towards me, but on Wednesday and again on Thursday, I could see that Brenda was definitely growing more annoyed with me each day. I’m pretty sure that the reason that Brenda was becoming more irritated with me, was because she really thought that she would be able to tie me up so that I would stay hogtied all day long.
But I ended up winning our game on both days, and Brenda didn’t seem to like it when she lost to me.
What I do remember is that on both Wednesday and Thursday morning, as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda would immediately appear at my bedroom door, telling me that she wanted to play the rope game with me again. Or as she called it, my “college hogtie game”.
Brenda apparently hadn’t forgotten that I had scolded her the previous week about walking into my bedroom without permission, because each day, she would stand in my doorway with a scowl on her face, and she would quietly ask if she could enter my room.
When I would tell her it was okay to come in, she would quickly retrieve the ropes from my underwear drawer, then she would hastily undress me.
Brenda would remain fully clothed, in her knee length skirt and work blouse, while I would be stripped all the way down to my underpants. For my part, I was becoming increasingly worried about allowing Brenda to strip me like that each day, since she was continually informing me that she was thinking about bringing one of our neighbors to my bedroom, to watch me as I tried to escape.
Each time that Brenda would mention bringing a witness to my room, she was very casual about it, as if it would be a perfectly normal thing for her to do, to allow one of my female neighbors to be there in my bedroom, while I wriggled helplessly around on my bed, after Brenda had stripped me and hogtied me.
“Since it’s a game that sophisticated young men like yourself are playing at college these days, I see no reason why young Kristie or Bethany shouldn’t be allowed to stand above you and watch you, while you lay there on your bed try to escape from your hogtie…..” Brenda would tell me, and not just once, but several times during each of our morning games.
Brenda would further explain to me that if one of my neighbors were there in my bedroom, it would allow Brenda to go off and start her housework, leaving Kristie, or Bethany, or possibly even Mrs. McCauley, to serve not only as a spectator, but as a referee of sorts.
But Brenda was also telling me that she would need to instruct the witness not to untie me, or to assist me in any way, no matter how uncomfortable I looked, or how many times I asked to be untied.
“…..I’ll have to make sure that Kristie, and Bethany, and Mrs. McCauley understand that the rules of the game are that you have all day long to try to escape, and that you need to free yourself from your hogtie, completely on your own, without any help from anyone…….” Brenda would tell me, noting that she would also have to explain the two penalties to the witness, in case I were to lose the game to Brenda.
Needless to say, I was becoming increasingly worried about Brenda bringing a spectator to one of our morning rope games, and it was for that reason that I would tell Brenda that I didn’t want her to undress me all the way down to my underpants. But each morning, Brenda would insist on removing my clothing before she tied me up, telling me that she needed to do that for two reasons. First, she would be able to tie me tighter if I was stripped, and secondly, it would be more “fun” for me.
Brenda was quite stubborn about it, to the point that when I tried to prevent her from removing my clothing, she would strip me against my will, getting quite rough with me in the process. She would aggressively yank my shirt up over my head, and while my arms were now being trapped inside my shirt, Brenda would forcibly pull my pants down my legs, all the way down around my ankles.
Then while I was off balance, with my arms still ensnared by my shirt, and with my pants pulled down around my ankles, Brenda would aggressively shove me backwards onto my bed, after which she would quickly remove my shoes, socks, pants, and shirt.
So I would end up being undressed all the way down to my underpants anyway, despite my objections, and despite my growing fears about Brenda making good on her threat to bring a spectator to my bedroom, to serve as a sort of “referee” for our rope game. And by “referee”, Brenda meant that the spectator would stand there above me and watch, as I lay there face down and wriggling around on my mattress, stripped down to my underpants and trying my hardest to free myself from my hogtie.
Adding to my concerns, Brenda continued her practice of tossing my pieces of clothing in a conspicuous pile on the floor just inside my bedroom door, so that anyone walking into my room would very definitely notice all of my stripped away clothes lying on the floor in plain sight.
In any case, after Brenda would shove me down onto my bed an undress me each morning, she would forcefully turn me over onto my stomach, then she would climb up on the bed on top of me, telling me that she was ready to tie my wrists behind my back.
It was time to start our hogtie game, she would inform me.
So there I would be, lying face down on my bed, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton briefs, with Brenda on top of me, straddling me and staring coldly down at me. Each morning that we played, I remember how Brenda’s long, husky thighs felt really warm and heavy on top of me, and I also recall how Brenda felt awfully strong, as she would proceed to grab both of my wrists in her hands and forcefully yank them up behind my back.
Each morning, there would be that moment of sudden panic on my part, just before Brenda would begin to tie my wrists together. I don’t know why I waited each day until Brenda had captured my wrists in her capable hands, before I would abruptly tell Brenda that I had changed my mind and didn’t want to play the game after all.
But that’s exactly what would happen. Just when Brenda would forcefully twist my wrists behind my back and pin them firmly together, I guess the reality of my situation would set in. I would suddenly get scared, about what if Brenda was able to keep me hogtied all day long. And then of course I would get scared about what if I really did end up being forced to submit to both of the highly undesirable penalties.
That was a big fear of mine, but I think that my main concern was that I knew that I would never be able to live down the embarrassment, if I were ever to be discovered, stripped all the way down to my underpants and hogtied face down on my bed, by one of my female neighbors.
So I guess there were a few different reasons that would cause me to suddenly panic, just as Brenda would start to tie my wrists behind my back. I would abruptly begin to jerk on my arms, trying to pull free from Brenda’s tight grip, in order to back out of our game.
Unfortunately for me, I would re-discover what I already knew, which was that Brenda was too strong for me. I would thrash around and tug on my arms with everything I had, only to have Brenda calmly tighten her grip around my wrists, clenching them firmly together behind my back with one hand. Then she would bear down in her straddle position on top of me, and begin to tie my wrists together with one of the long strips of rope.
With me continuing to struggle, Brenda would proceed to loop the rope around my wrists, painstakingly tightening each loop as snugly as possible. Then she would crossloop the rope several times and tie several tight knots.
“You know that I have no trouble keeping your wrists pinned behind your back, so I don’t understand why you suddenly get all flustered, and try to pull free, every time we start to play your little rope game……” Brenda would chide me, following up with a stern warning about what she had planned for me, during the rest of my summerlong vacation:
“You should know by now that I’m stronger than you are, and I’m not going to let you back out of our rope game, young man…..” Brenda would continue, before telling me that she fully intended on hogtying me every day that she came to the house, every day for the remainder of the summer.
“The only way for me to keep you from being a pest is to hogtie you, so we ARE going to play your game ….. every day ….. whether you want to play or not……” she would warn me, and I’m not sure why, but I always felt really embarrassed when Brenda would taunt me about how she was able to forcibly hogtie me, even when I didn’t want to be tied up. I guess a female wasn’t supposed to be stronger than a male, and wasn’t supposed to be able to hogtie him against his will. So when Brenda would point out to me that she was able to easily overpower me, and could in fact force me into bondage whenever she wanted, it would cause me to blush with intense humiliation. But I would say nothing.
One thing that I remember, though, was that during those first few times that Brenda tied me up, I would get really nervous over the realization that Brenda was proving herself to be physically stronger than I was. And I would also find myself feeling uneasy about what the game’s outcome was going to be that day. I guess my unease was due to the fact that even during our very first game, Brenda had already turned out to be surprisingly good with rope, clearly a natural at hogtying someone.
What was even more significant was that with each day, Brenda tied the rope a little tighter, and she got a little bit better at hogtying me. As good as she was that first time, she continued to get even more confident in her knot tying ability, with each day that she played the game with me. She would tell me that she bet it would wipe the smug grin off my face, if she were able to win, and if she were able to impose the game‘s penalties on me, those penalties being that she would give me a tickling, and that she would force me to lick her feet.
All of which she would do while I was still securely hogtied and unable to stop her, she would remind me, vowing that she would not be releasing me from my hogtie, not until after she had forcibly collected both penalties from me.
With each passing day, I could see that it was definitely becoming an obsession with Brenda, to win and to not only enforce the game’s two penalties on me, but to enforce the penalties while I remained hogtied and unable to resist her in any way. That would teach me some much needed respect, she would tell me each morning, at the beginning of that day’s game.
Despite my unease over how strong and how capable Brenda was turning out to be, and in spite of my apprehension over where my relationship with Brenda was heading, I kept acting especially cocky throughout the games of that first week, insisting to Brenda that she could never keep me hogtied all day long. So she would never get to tickle me, nor would I ever have to lick her feet, or so I kept telling Brenda.
But despite my outward confidence, I was becoming increasingly concerned that she was going to end up collecting the penalties from me, because during the first four games, on that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I only barely managed to escape each day, and only after a very long time. And by that Friday morning, as we were set to play our fifth game of the week, my fingers were so sore and so tender, that I could barely move them. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t stay in the house that morning.
I truly did consider leaving the house that morning before my mother went to work, because I thought that I really needed to back out of our game that day, so that I could have that Friday, along with two full weekend days, to be able to finally rest my aching fingers.
I remember that on that Friday morning, as I waited for Brenda to arrive at the house, I was genuinely worried about what the outcome of that day’s game was going to be. And I knew that once my mother left the house and Brenda entered my bedroom, it would be too late to back out, because I knew from past experience that Brenda would shove me down on my bed, and insist on playing our rope game, whether I wanted to play or not.
But despite my fears that I was going to lose our game on that Friday morning, I nonetheless waited in my bedroom for Brenda to come and undress me. Even when I heard my mother leaving the house, I continued to wait anxiously in my room, maybe because deep down, I was curious if Brenda would truly be able to hogtie me so that I wouldn’t be able to escape, for real this time.
For her part during the course of that week, Brenda had started to ask me if she should use more of the ropes on me, so that she could tie me in some other area, more than just my wrists, ankles, and thighs. She was, after all, using only 4 of the 7 ropes that she had originally cut, or so she was quick to point out to me each day that we played. One strip of rope was being used on my wrists, another on my ankles, a third rope on my bared thighs, and the fourth to hogtie my wrists to my ankles.
But Brenda kept saying that she wanted to use more than just 4 strips of rope.
I would insist to Brenda that I wanted her to tie only my wrists and my ankles, because tying my wrists and ankles was enough. In fact, after she had tied my thighs together on the second day, I kept telling her that I didn’t want her to tie my thighs. I really didn’t.
But Brenda went ahead and tied my legs just above my knees, on that Wednesday, and again on that Thursday. As much as I was instructing her not to do it, there was no way for me to stop Brenda from tying my naked thighs together anyway. After all, I was lying face down on my bed with my wrists already bound behind my back, and with my ankles already tied together, which meant that Brenda could do whatever she wanted to do to me.
And she definitely wanted to tie my thighs together.
“It’ll be more fun for you when I leave you alone on your bed …… so your thighs need to be tied good and tight, young man….” she would tell me, and I guess she was right about it being more enjoyable for me. Because each morning when she would walk out of my bedroom and leave me by myself for those ten minutes, my excitement would get the better of me. No sooner would Brenda leave my bedroom, I would begin to wriggle around on my bed, and the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, ankles, and thighs would send waves of raw arousal rushing throughout my body, waves of arousal that I couldn’t suppress, no matter how hard I tried.
In no time at all, I would find myself pressing my face down into my pillow, and things would quickly spin out of control, until my hips and bottom would begin to shudder uncontrollably.
I really did try to stifle my lusty feelings, because I most definitely didn’t want Brenda to know that I had once again lost control of my male sexuality. But each day, she would end up catching me having my “fun” on my bed, which was one of the many ways that she would describe what she caught me doing every day.
And even though Brenda was telling me that she was going off to scrub my bathroom sink, I was pretty sure that she was actually standing right outside my bedroom door, standing there and listening to what was happening inside my room. I say that, because each morning, no sooner would my excitement spin away from me, I would lift my head up from my pillow, and there Brenda would be, standing quietly at the foot of my bed, frowning down at me for “indulging” myself again.
She even began to use a specific word to describe what I was doing, and it was a word that caused me considerable shame and embarrassment.
“You just masturbated against your mattress again, didn’t you?” she would ask, and I would want to tell her that I couldn’t help myself, because of the way that she had my wrists tied behind my back, and because of the way that she had laced the ropes so securely around my ankles and my thighs.
I would want to tell Brenda that it was her fault, for tying the ropes so tight. But whenever Brenda would speak to me in that scolding tone of hers, and accuse me of masturbating against my mattress, I would just lie there in my face down position, and I wouldn’t say anything, because I knew that there was nothing I could say that would excuse what Brenda had just caught me doing.
My face would turn deep red, however, particularly when Brenda would bring up my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer.
“I can’t imagine that they would still think so highly of you, if either of them were to ever walk into your bedroom and watch you do what you just did….” Brenda would point out, wondering how my mother or Jennifer might react, if either of them were to find out how I was pleasuring myself each morning in my bedroom, while I was lying face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together.
“I’m certain that they would be very disappointed with you, to say the least, if they knew that you were doing something that disgusting in your bedroom every day, while you and I are playing your college hogtie game, and while I’ve got you stripped and tied up on your bed…” Brenda would follow up, adding that she didn’t realize that a male could gratify himself in that way, while he was lying on his stomach with his wrists bound behind his back.
“…..but at least I know that I must be tying you the way that you like to be tied…….” she would continue, further noting that I seemed to truly enjoy not only having my wrists laced together behind my back, but having my ankles and thighs tied “extra tight” as well.
And Brenda was very probably right about that. Because it seemed that the tighter she tied me, the harder it was for me to control myself, during those 10 minute periods each morning, when Brenda would walk out of my bedroom and inform me that she was going to leave me alone.
“I’m going to scrub your bathroom sink …. So you can go ahead and put your face down into your fluffy pillow and have your dirty little fun……” she would tell me.
As I noted, I really was trying to curb my arousal, because each day, I was concerned that Brenda was in fact going to walk back in to my room and catch me. Which was exactly what she would end up doing. And I knew that every time that she did catch me, and every time that she would shake her head with disgust and scold me for “masturbating” against my mattress, a dangerous precedent was not only being set, but was being reinforced.
Nonetheless each morning, I couldn’t prevent myself from getting swept away in the excitement of the moment, as I lay there face down on my bed, with my wrists bound behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together. I guess I was just being overwhelmed by the feeling of complete helplessness, because during each of our morning rope games, Brenda was tying me so very securely, and so very tight. Even during our first few games, Brenda was proving to be surprisingly good with rope.
And the way that she was continuing to speak to me was so demeaning, and so thoroughly humbling.
“I really can’t believe that you could do such a thing, while you’re lying there on your stomach, with your wrists tied behind your back ……. You must like being tied up really tight, don’t you?“ Brenda would needle me, and as the week progressed, she began to relate a story to me, a story that she herself had heard when she was a young girl growing up. According to Brenda, one of the neighborhood mothers was supposedly tying her son’s wrists behind his back, to prevent him from playing with himself, while she was off at work each day. Apparently, the mother would leave her son home alone all day, with his wrists bound behind his back, and she would untie his wrists only upon her return home each night. And the mother would allegedly re-tie her son’s wrists at bedtime, to stop him from playing with himself during the night. That mother was supposedly tying her son’s wrists from the time he was a young boy, all the way until he went away to college.
But at some point during the week, Brenda got the idea into her head that she might apply that story from her childhood to my own situation.
“…..if your mother or Jennifer were ever to catch us playing your hogtie game, I might just tell them that I walked in and found you gratifying yourself in your bedroom, so I decided that your wrists needed to be tied behind your back, to prevent you from misbehaving while I did my housework…….” Brenda informed me, adding that she might also have to reveal to my mother and to Jennifer that it was fortunate that she turned out to be physically stronger than me, because I didn’t want to be tied, so Brenda had to forcibly bind my wrists behind my back, against my will.
As if that wouldn’t be embarrassing enough of a story, Brenda went on to say that in addition, she might have to tell my mother and Jennifer that even though she was tying my wrists behind my back, I continued to pleasure myself on my bed, so Brenda was forced to take even more drastic action, which was to hogtie me all the way.
“That’s what I ought to tell them, that I had to hogtie you tighter and tighter each day, for you own good, to break you of your disgusting habit…..” Brenda would tell me.
But despite everything that Brenda was saying, she seemed to be very clearly aware that it was the tightness of the ropes that was causing me to do what I was doing on my bed every day. Maybe that was why Brenda continued to tie me a little bit tighter, each time that she tied me up.
Which might have been why it took me a little longer each day to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. On that Wednesday, and again on Thursday, Brenda tied the ropes noticeably tighter than she had on the previous day, even though I kept telling her that the ropes were a bit too tight.
But Brenda would simply ignore my protests.
“They’re supposed to be too tight……that way, it’ll be harder for you to escape….that’s the point of your college hogtie game, isn’t it? I’m supposed to try to keep you hogtied all day long, aren’t I?” she would respond, and she was right about it being more difficult for me to escape each morning that we played our rope game. While it had taken me a full ninety minutes to escape on that Tuesday, it took me even longer on Wednesday and Thursday. Brenda had wound the ropes so tightly, and I had wriggled powerlessly around on my mattress, jerking futilely on my hogtied wrists and ankles, while Brenda stood quietly at the side of my bed, watching very closely.
Each day, I had to really try, and I mean I had to really try my hardest. On Wednesday and Thursday morning, I even gave up trying numerous times, and I would just lie there, helplessly hogtied, my fingers achy and cramping up, as I peered sheepishly back up over my shoulder at Brenda, secretly hoping that maybe she would go ahead and untie me.
But Brenda would simply stare down at me, an unsmiling, icy stare. And instead of showing any sympathy regarding my obvious discomfort, she would merely instruct me to keep trying to escape.
“You have to free yourself on your own. Those are the rules ….. And remember, if Kristie, or Bethany, or Mrs. McCauley come to watch you play your little rope game, I’ll be giving them instructions not to untie you, or help you in any way…..” Brenda would tell me, while continually reminding me of the penalties, if I were to end up losing our game. Then Brenda would further warn me that she expected me to honor the game’s outcome if I lost, just as she accepted the outcome every time that I won.
In fact, Brenda was quite insistent about that, telling me that if I lost, she was fully committed to not only tickling me, but forcing me to lick her bare feet for as long as she wished, while I remained hogtied.
Fortunately, however, on both Wednesday and Thursday, after just over two full hours of struggling, I finally succeeded in loosening the knots and releasing the tether rope, after which I was able to eventually untie the rope that was binding my wrists together.
During each of our first four games that week, Brenda would wait in my bedroom and watch me trying to escape, and she seemed truly upset when I would finally manage to free myself. But I could tell that she was not only becoming more enthusiastic about playing the game with me, but that each day, she was growing more confident in her ability to hogtie me. Each time that she tied me up, she was able to loop and crossloop the ropes more quickly, and she was tying the knots tighter, and more effectively.
More to the point, Brenda seemed to know that she was doing a really good job, and she also seemed to realize that my success in escaping was mostly a matter of luck on my part.
And Brenda was also well aware that my fingers were getting really achy and tender, because she began to remark that I wasn’t able to pick at the knots with very much success.
“Are your fingers getting sore?” she would ask me, and when I would admit that they were in fact getting really sore, Brenda would look pleased, as if she understood that it was only a matter of time, maybe only one more day, or two days at the most, until I would no longer be able to loosen the knots with my fingers. I think that Brenda’s steadily increasing confidence was due to the fact that she knew that she was going to end up winning our game, and soon.
But during that first week, each time that I would once again manage to escape, I would grin triumphantly up at her, gloating over the fact that I had won again, and was still ‘undefeated’ at our game. That seemed to really get Brenda riled up, and she would assure me that she was going to tie me even better, and even tighter, when we played the game the next morning. And she would warn me not to be so cocky, because pretty soon, she was going to tie me so that I stayed hogtied all day long.
Each night during that week, I would visit my girlfriend Jennifer at her house, and we would make out on the living room couch, while Jennifer’s mother was in another room. But during my evenings with Jennifer, and then later, after I got home from my date, I was thinking only about Brenda, and not at all about Jennifer.
It was probably more accurate to say that I was totally fixating on Brenda, in anticipation of the following morning when Brenda would be returning to my house. After all, this tall, powerfully built cleaning woman wasn’t just enthusiastic about playing my rope game with me, but she had become downright obsessive about playing. The minute that my mother would leave the house to go to work each morning, Brenda would show up at my bedroom door, eager to strip me and tie me up.
During those first four mornings, I was lucky enough to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. But on Wednesday, and again on Thursday, I really didn’t think I was going to be able to free myself. And by the time I finally did untie all of Brenda’s knots, I was so weak and so physically drained, that I was just lying there, face down in my underpants, unable to get up from my bed for quite some time. While I had been bound for those two hours on each of those mornings, I had in fact been very effectively immobilized, in extremely restrictive and seemingly inescapable hogties. Which was what I would think about while I was with Jennifer each night at her house.
While I would be kissing Jennifer in her living room, I would think about how frustratingly tight and uncomfortable that morning’s hogtie had been. But I would also be thinking about all of the strange yet intriguing sensations that I had experienced, while I had been lying there on my bed, so expertly bound by Brenda. Then I would find myself dwelling on how embarrassing it would be, if Brenda were ever to make good on her threat, that if we ever got caught by my mother or by Jennifer, then she would simply have to explain what the two of us had been doing every morning in my bedroom.
There was the true explanation, which was that Brenda and I were playing a college “hogtie” game, a game that I had talked Brenda into playing, and that Brenda was proving to be very good at. And then there was the fabricated story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, which was that Brenda had caught me ”misbehaving” in my bedroom, so she had decided to forcibly tie my wrists behind my back, to try to prevent me from indulging myself, when I was alone in my room. And when Brenda had again caught me doing it, even after she had tied my wrists, she had decided that the only way to break me of my “disgusting” habit, was to hogtie me all the way.
At least that was the story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, should either of them find out about that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom every day.
I wasn’t sure which explanation would be more shocking for my mother or Jennifer, the true story, or the fictitious explanation that Brenda wanted to tell, about how she caught me “masturbating”, and decided to forcibly tie me up, against my will.
And then the fifth time that Brenda hogtied me, on that Friday morning, Brenda stayed away from my room, and she completely ignored me as she usually did. But as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda immediately appeared at my bedroom door, asking permission to enter my room while telling me in an impatient voice that she wanted to play my “hogtie game” again.
She proceeded to strip me down to my underpants, only this time, she told me that she’d been thinking about it a lot during the past couple of days, thinking about what I had related to her, when I had originally told her my story about what my college girlfriend had supposedly done with me.
And then Brenda surprised me by informing me that before she hogtied me, she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, which was the way that she worded it that day. When I flashed an uneasy grin at her, she casually explained that she had gone shopping at a lingerie boutique after work on the previous evening, and she wanted to dress me in a short silk miniskirt, along with some feminine undergarments that she’d purchased, specifically for me, and specifically for our game.
Apparently, Brenda was no longer bothered by the concerns that she had expressed to me one week earlier, one of those concerns being that she didn’t know me well enough to dress me in female underwear. And I guess that she was no longer worried about whether our neighbors might find out and get the wrong idea, about what Brenda and I were doing in my bedroom every day.
Another concern that Brenda had conveyed one week earlier was that both my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer might not approve of Brenda dressing me up in feminine underclothing and then hogtying me, while the two of us were alone in the house. But I guess that Brenda was no longer worried about that either.
Maybe Brenda felt that she now knew me well enough, because she had hogtied me four times already that week, which might have caused her to begin to feel a certain level of familiarity towards me.
And let’s not forget that on every one of the four days, Brenda had allowed me to gaze at her skirt covered bottom for a fairly long time, before leaving me alone in my bedroom, for those ten minutes of tightly bound helplessness on my bed.
Each day, she had stood at the side of my bed, directly in my line of vision, so that I could look closely at her wide, skirt covered bottom, before she would leave the room, in order that I might indulge my “masculine impulses”, as Brenda called it.
It should also be noted that on each of those four mornings, Brenda had walked in on me, and she had caught me in the act of self gratification, as I lay there face down, with my wrists tied tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs bound together.
So maybe it was because of a combination of all of those reasons, that on that Friday morning, Brenda seemed to have gotten over her initial shock, and her possible distaste, over the thought of a sophisticated college male being dressed up in female lingerie and then hogtied.
Looking back now, though, I think that the main reason for Brenda’s decision to dress me up in feminine underwear, could very well have been that she was confident that this was the day that she was going to win our game.
Which might explain why Brenda had changed her mind about dressing me up in women’s underclothing on that Friday morning. It’s very possible that Brenda was convinced that this was the day that she was going to keep me hogtied, and she had decided that dressing me up like a girl, in a short silk miniskirt and frilly ladies’ underwear, might just be the first step in the process of wiping the smug grin off my face, which at that point in our tense and decidedly unfriendly relationship, Brenda clearly wanted to do. She wanted to embarrass and humiliate me, and she wanted to teach me some respect.
And what better way to do it than to dress me up in feminine lingerie, and then leave me hogtied all day long in my bedroom, unable to free myself.
Whatever the case, after four days of playing tie-up games with me, Brenda told me that she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, in female underwear and a short silk skirt, before she hogtied me.