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Karen Strikes Again!

By Doug R

In the summer of 1976, when I was eleven years old, I spent three weeks with my cousins at my Aunt Jean's house. My cousins--Donna (12) and Shirley (10)--played a series of bondage games between themselves and the neighboring kids: Becca (13) and her brother Jim (11), as well as Karen (12). On Saturday night after the second week of my stay, we were all in for a surprise when my older cousin Keith (15) and his friend Peter sprung "Night Of The Living Bondage Game" on us (see my previous post, in the January archive). Afterwards, Karen stayed over at my Aunt's house that night, and she huddled down with Donna to discuss the details of the next bondage game where Karen would be the captor again. They decided that it would take place no sooner than Monday. When I was asked if I would mind being Karen's captive once more, I quickly said no--I meant: no, I didn't mind at all!

I awoke on Monday morning to the chatter of my cousins in the kitchen outside. After changing into a clean pair of shorts, I left the bedroom and saw that Keith was still asleep, while Donna, Shirley and George were just sitting down in the kitchen for a breakfast of cold cereal. I promptly joined them. My Aunt Jean stumbled into the kitchen long enough to make sure we weren't starving--then she turned around and stumbled back to bed. Taking this as a sign, Donna got up and made a quick phone call. I knew this was to give Karen the "all clear" signal, but I had no idea exactly when or how the bondage game would begin. I didn't ask any questions, I went about the mundane task of eating my breakfast while trying to ignore the sudden anticipation and eagerness I felt.

We finished breakfast and cleared the table. Donna did the dishes while Shirley dried. George stared out the patio doors, as if anxiously looking for Karen. I stood with my back facing the side door by the basement steps. You could imagine how shocked I was when I suddenly felt something being poked into my bare back.

"Be quiet," I heard someone whisper into my ear. "Come with me."

Raising my hands, I saw Karen standing behind me with a big smile on her face. She wore jeans with a blouse and was barefoot--which was no doubt why I never heard her come up from behind me. To see how far she had come, read “Karen's Turn”, where Karen was so shy she had to beckon Donna and I over to her before she could "kidnap" us. So this was a bold new tactic for her, indeed!

Although Karen tried to sneak me out through the side door, she was foiled when my cousins obviously noticed what was happening.

"What are you doing?" Donna asked, in her best shocked manner. She stepped away from the sink. "What do you what?"

Karen nudged me with the toy gun. "I want him. Don't try to stop me, or you'll regret it!"

Donna, Shirley and George all looked at each other. Then, with a shrug, Donna glanced back at Karen and said, "Ok. You can have him. He's overstayed his welcome, anyway." Now it was my turn to act shocked. "Thanks Donna!" I said sarcastically as my cousins burst into laughter. "I'll remember this the next time you need me to untie you...."I was then escorted by Karen over to her house.

We entered through the front door, and Karen directed me towards the guest room, where I saw she had been very busy. The bed, which had a plain, single-sized mattress, was set up for me. The blankets and bedsheets had been pulled away to reveal a long cord of clothesline rope, which laid like a lazy river on the bedspread. The opposite end of this rope ran off the foot of the bed and underneath it, secured to the frame which supported the box spring. On a chair, I saw a pair of plastic toy handcuffs, more clothesline rope, some thick cloth strips, and a roll of duct tape.

Karen picked up the twin strips of thick cloth and wrapped them separately around each of my wrists. "My parents aren't exactly rich, you know," I said in my best melodramatic fashion. "You won't get much for me in ransom."

"What makes you think I want a ransom?" she said deviously. She pulled the pillows away, and told me to lay down on the bed on my stomach. When I did this, she used the toy handcuffs to secure my wrists around one of the wooden spokes in the headboard. Karen then crossed my feet over one another, and tied them together at the ankles. She pulled gently on my bound ankles to make sure I was stretched out as far as I would go on the bed. She even asked me if I were comfortable, and I said yes. Then Karen took the length of rope which was tied to the bedframe and wrapped its opposite end around my bound ankles. Once she knotted this off, I was tied to the bed at my wrists and ankles. Karen let out a deep sigh of relief as she slowly walked around the bed like a predator savoring her catch. "You're not going anywhere," she finally said, sounding satisfied.

I had to admit, she was right about that. All I could do was peer helplessly over my bare shoulder at Karen as she sat down next to me on the bed. "You might as well settle in, Doug," she said. "Because you're gonna be here for a while."

Karen got up and briefly tickled my bare feet. This was a bondage game tradition we had Becca to thank for. After giving me one last glance over her shoulder, Karen shut the door behind her, leaving me alone in the room. Another bondage game tradition was for a captive to test his bonds once he was tied up, in order to see how tightly he was bound, and if there was any chance of escape. But I didn't even bother doing this.

I gazed at the handcuffs which bound my wrists to the headboard in front of me. Ironically, they were the same type of plastic toy cuffs which Becca used on me at her house during a recent bondage game. At that time, Karen, while living out some kind of Nancy Drew fantasy, had been able to free me with a spare handcuff key that no doubt came from this very pair. I now hoped that she kept her cuff keys in a secure place--like the pocket of her jeans.

Although I was enjoying myself immensely, there was really very little I could do but just lay there. I was very securely bound. The rap sessions Karen had with Donna when she stayed over at my Aunt Jean's apparently worked, because Karen had seen to it that there would be no escape attempts for me this time! I laid my head down sideways and stared at the wall, trying to figure out what dastardly reason would Karen have for "abducting" me. After all, this would be what a real kidnap victim be thinking about right now, right?

After a good twenty minutes or so (it was hard to tell, because there was no clock in the room) Karen returned. Still barefoot, she had exchanged her jeans and blouse for a pair of shorts and a tank top. When she checked the knots binding my ankles to the foot of the bed, Karen absently placed one hand on my right calf. Satisfied that my ankle bonds were secure, Karen then came up and knelt down on the mattress next to me so she could check the handcuffs. When she did this, she deliberately placed a hand on my back. "The cuffs aren't cutting into you?" she asked.

I shook my head "no". The cloth she wrapped around my wrists prior to cuffing me did their job. She still had her hand on my bare back, and when I wiggled my shoulders, she quickly pulled it away. Karen settled down on the bed next to me into a sitting position with one leg tucked underneath her.

Both of us flinched when we heard a sound out in the hallway. Karen's mother and father both worked full time jobs, so we knew we were alone in her house. Or were we? Grabbing her water pistol, Karen quickly ran over and hid behind the door.

I felt pretty vulnerable lying there, waiting for whoever--or whatever--had made that sound to enter the room. To my relief, I saw it was Donna. Barefoot, she wore a t-shirt over her bathing suit. When she saw me, her eyes went wide. She stuck her head back out of the doorway and frantically whispered, "He's in here."

Donna padded over to me, and gaped at the fact that my wrists were handcuffed to the headboard. Karen remained behind the door.

I wasn't surprised to see Shirley and George appear at the doorway, but I was stunned to see Becca standing there with them. Shirley and George had changed into T-shirts and shorts--while Becca, who was barefoot, also wore a shirt over her bathing suit like Donna did. I found out later that Becca had called the house asking if today would be a good day for her to "capture" me (read "A Force Of Nature" to find out why), and when she heard that Karen had "captured" me instead, she came right over and joined in on the rescue party. When Becca, Shirley and George all saw me, their collective lower jaws literally dropped in shock.

You can imagine their further shock when Karen jumped out from behind the door and screamed, "DON'T MOVE!" Everybody who wasn't tied down like me must have jumped three feet in the air. Karen nervously waved her water pistol at everybody; she looked a little stunned herself--I'm not sure when was the last time a captor caught three captives all in one fell swoop like this (George was never tied up because of his youthful age).

Karen ordered her new captives to drop to the floor on their knees, and they did--except Becca, who knelt down before me on the bed and literally threw herself over me. "Oh Doug!" she cried melodramatically. "You poor thing! What has this fiend done to you?!"

This little bit of overacting drew disgusted moans and a chorus of "C'mon, Becca!" from everybody. But I have to admit, I really didn't mind. However, I quickly realized the method to Becca's madness when she stuffed a plastic handcuff key into my left hand. Once I held the key securely in my fist, Becca promptly dropped her act and got down on the floor with the others.

Karen wasted no time in tying the girls' hands behind their backs with rope while George stood holding the water pistol on everybody. After gagging each of her new captives with tape, Karen made Shirley take a seat in the wooden chair at the desk. Shirley's feet were bound together, then secured to her wrists bonds via a separate length of rope which ran from her ankles and up through the back of the chair. This caused Shirley's bare feet to be pulled under the seat.

While this little bondage session was underway, something occured to me: while Becca may have given me handcuff keys, I could not use them. The wooden headboard spoke that my wrists were cuffed to was so thick, I just didn't have enough slack on the cuffs for my hands to reach the locks. Keep in mind, if my feet weren't secured to the opposite end of the bed, I would have been able to pull myself closer to the headboard, and might have created enough slack to reach the handcuff locks--but this just wasn't the case. I could only lay there helplessly, with the frustrating knowledge that the handcuff key was in my hand, and there was nothing I could do about it.

After binding Shirley, Karen stared thoughtfully at Donna, then helped my bound cousin to her feet and escorted her out of the room. George kept watch on Becca, who was still kneeling on the carpet with her hands tied behind her back. As soon as Karen left the room with Donna, Becca got to her feet with a muffled grunt under her gag and came over to me. I saw she stared intently at my cuffed wrists, perhaps wondering why I haven't made my bid for freedom by now.

Just as I tried to figure how I could explain my situation to her, Becca carefully got onto the bed and slowly "walked" up to the headboard while on her knees. Gagged with duct tape and with her wrists bound behind her back, Becca was quite a sight to behold as she waddled along the mattress on her knees. George, who gave up all pretense of guarding us, was now laughing. Even Shirley joined in with her muffled giggles. Becca's eyes grew comically wide as she nearly lost her balance and fell over on me, but she quickly compensated and got back on track after giving me a little wink.

Just when I thought Becca had completely lost her marbles, I realized what she was up to once she reached the headboard. Becca fell down into a sitting position, with her back facing the headboard. Then, she started writhing and wiggling--right next to me, mind you!--until she could reach my cuffed wrists with her bound hands. Craning her head over her shoulder, Becca reached for the handcuff key, which I held up for her.

Of course, Karen would choose this moment to return. She came to a dead stop at the door and regarded Becca with a mixture of horror and amazement. For her part, Becca crossed her legs in front of her and casually rocked her feet back and forth while humming a merry little tune under her gag. Becca let out an anxious "uh oh!" under her gag when Karen--now grinning broadly--grabbed Becca by the collar of her shirt and pulled her off of the bed.

Karen made Becca lay down right on the floor--where, unfortunately, I could not see her. However, just as Karen pulled Becca's feet up and was about to bind them, the telephone rang. "Now what?" Karen muttered, as she ran out to answer the phone.

When she returned, Karen glumly said the bondage game was on hold because her caretaker was coming over. "But once she leaves we'll get right back into it," she reminded us. "So, even though I gotta untie you now, you're all still my captives!"

Since both of Karen's parents worked, they asked her elderly next door neighbor to check in on their only daughter from time to time. Our last bondage game at Karen's house was also cut short by this caregiver's untimely arrival. Karen tried to get around it this time by telling her caretaker she would spend the day over at my Aunt Jean's; in the hopes that this would prevent her from coming over--but since the old woman lived right next door, she either saw us entering Karen's house, or had noticed our activity within.

Karen asked George to untie Shirley while she freed me. It was an easy matter for Karen to free me, but George was having some trouble getting Shirley loose. So Karen asked me to free Becca--until she remembered Donna was also still tied up. So, I was sent instead to free Donna while Karen struggled to untie Shirley (got that?).

I found Donna in Karen's room. She laid on Karen's bed with her wrists hog-tied to her ankles. The funny thing was, Karen's bed sheets were all neatly made up, and she had a row of little stuffed animals in front of her pillows. The sight of Donna lying bound and gagged under the cheerful gaze of these stuffed critters was too much to resist (to this day, I wish I had a picture of this). So I picked up a stuffed crocodile and made growling sounds as I pushed it closer to her. For her part, Donna stared at the crocodile--and me--with wide, anxious eyes. I put the croc away and untied her. Once freed, Donna picked up a pillow and struck me with it. We were even.

Putting Karen's bed back together as best we could, Donna and I rejoined everybody in the guest room. Karen was now untying Becca's hands while Shirley was bent over in the chair untying her ankles. George merely stood around looking very content and happy. He looked just like I felt.

Karen's caretaker soon came over. This sweet old woman stayed for about half an hour and wound up making lunch for all of us. We listened respectfully--but with great amusement--to her concerned lecture about the evils of going barefoot, and how we should never do this, since our parents went through the expense of buying us shoes. I got a special lecture from her about how it wasn't "gentlemanly" for a nice young man like myself to go shirtless. We all politely nodded our heads and pretended to agree with her like a bunch of angelic suburban cherubs.

Then, once she was gone, we dove right back into our bondage game. Karen had the bright idea to bind our ankles while we all sat at the kitchen table. Our hands would be left free so we could finish the remnants of our lunch and drinks--but Karen just wanted to tie our ankles to prevent, in her words, "anybody from bolting."

Since we were her willing captives, we simply shrugged and offered our feet to be tied when she came around to each of us. Like everyone else, my ankles were snugly bound together with clotheslines rope in a criss-cross fashion. Once all of her captives' feet were securely bound, Karen sat down to enjoy the rest of her lunch--

--until her caretaker strolled into the kitchen once more. The old darling had brought over chocolate chip cookies for all of us.

I remember Donna, Shirley, Becca and myself freezing upon hearing the old woman re-enter the kitchen. George's eyes were so wide I thought they would fall out. And Karen looked as if she was going to have a heart attack. While the rest of us stared in numb shock, Becca--after an initial giggle that she quickly stifled--resumed eating as if nothing was wrong. As Karen quickly got up to help her caretaker set out the cookies, I had noticed that those of us with bound ankles kept their legs firmly under the table.

At least until Becca--with a mischievous glint in her eye--said, "Oh, Karen, do you need any help?"

Karen stared at Becca as if she'd just grown a horn on her forehead, then frantically shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Becca asked. And, so help me, Becca actually swung sideways in her seat--as if to get up--and deliberately exposed her bound ankles. Poor Karen actually went pale at this.

But Karen's caretaker said she would leave the cookies on the counter so we could help ourselves after lunch. Karen glared at Becca as she added, "Yeah, so stay where you are!" "Very well, then," Becca said as she swung her tied legs back under the table.

After reminding us that, if we needed anything, to just give her a call, Karen's caretaker left us with a cheery "Have fun!"

Oh yes, we had fun that day. The bondage game continued in force right after that, with Karen getting some sweet revenge on Becca. However, that's going to have to be detailed in my next posting, since this one's already running long. Thanks for reading.

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