In the summer of 1976, when I was eleven years old, I spent three weeks with my cousins at my Aunt Jean's house. We had played a bondage game at Becca's house on Monday of the first week, where Becca (age 13), a friend of my cousins', gained the upper hand and made everybody her captive--only to have her mother abruptly end the game by calling us to dinner. According to the rules of the game, since nobody had a chance to escape, that game was still in effect, thus technically making us all Becca's captives whenever a new game began.
That new game took place just after breakfast on Thursday of that same week, when Becca invited my cousins Donna (12), Shirley (10), George (6) and me over to her house for a swim in their pool. At least that was the cover story for Aunt Jean, who didn't know that Becca's mom would be out for most of the day. Becca's mom left Becca and Jim (11) with the promise that they wouldn't go swimming unless it
was at our house. However, despite the oppressive heat and humidity, splashing in the pool would be the last thing on anybody's mind. After changing into our bathing suits--which we knew would never get wet that day--Donna, Shirley, George and myself headed off for Becca's house, which was a few doors up the street.
Because of his status as the "baby" of the family, George was protected from getting tied up in our games. Yet he still participated as an eager observer, usually switching sides between the captors and captives whenever it suited him. His excitement over what the girls and I were going to face was so great that George ran on ahead of us.
We arrived at Becca's house without incident. George stood on the grassy strip between the house and driveway and pointed at a note which was taped to the side door. "Come on in!" it read in Becca's handwriting.
Donna, Shirley, and I gave each other a wary look. Then, Donna patted my bare shoulder and said, "After you, Doug."
"Oh, no," I replied, smiling, "ladies first!"
"Somebody go in!" George muttered, annoyed.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped inside. The girls and George were right behind me. The kitchen was dark--in fact, the interior of the whole house was dark, every curtain and shade in the house had been shut, and all of the lights were out. Every one of the window-mounted air conditioners were going at full blast, making the tiled floor feel cool beneath my feet. The four of us stood nervously in the center of the kitchen, waiting for something to happen. I fought the crazy urge to yell "Honey I'm home!" at the top of my lungs.
Little did we realize that our maniacal hostess had come up from the basement and was spying on us on the basement steps. We couldn't see her because the dining table covered our view of the stairs. When Becca abruptly jumped up from behind the wrought iron railing with a water pistol pointed at us, Shirley nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Stick 'em up!" Becca triumphantly said. She was clad in a t-shirt and cut-off shorts.
Donna, Shirley and I promptly raised our hands.
"I've got Jimmy tied to his bed," Becca said. She raised her hand and revealed a pair of handcuffs. "Now it's your turn. I only have one pair of these, so Doug and Shirley will have to share while I get Donna fixed up."
"I hope you have keys for those," Donna muttered.
In response, Becca pulled out a pair of keys from the front pocket of her cut-off shorts. Donna was ordered to kneel on the floor with her hands clasped behind her head, which she did. Then Becca handcuffed Shirley and me to the wrought iron railing. The handcuffs were just a toy pair made of hard plastic. Only my left wrist and Shirley's right wrist were manacled to one of the railing's balusters, but this was
enough to keep us from going anywhere while Becca escorted Donna downstairs--followed by George, who appeared enthralled with this little drama.
Shirley and I knelt on the floor side by side and waited quietly. Shirley appeared as excited as I felt.
After a few minutes, Becca returned alone with a length of clothesline rope and a roll of duct tape, which she placed on the floor. Becca freed my wrist, then cuffed both of Shirley's wrists in front of her to the railing. With Shirley secure, Becca used the rope to bind my wrists together in front of me. Then she gagged me with several strips of the tape.
As Becca began to escort me down the steps, I saw Shirley give me a double thumbs up through the railing with her cuffed hands.
Unable to speak thanks to my gag, I just rolled my eyes. This produced a mild chuckle from Shirley.
Becca led me into the rec room, where I immediately noticed three things: it felt much warmer here than upstairs, the fold-out sofa had been opened, and Donna was tied to it. The sofa was now a double sized bed, fitted only with a mattress liner. Donna laid on her back sideways across the broad bed, with her wrists and ankles bound to the opposing ends, secured to the metal framework which surrounded the
Becca told me to lay down next to Donna, but in the opposite direction, so that my feet would lay next to her head and vice versa. When I did, Becca secured my already bound wrists with another cord of rope to the metal frame. Like Donna, I laid with my arms pulled over my head. Becca came around to the other side of the bed and grabbed some more rope. Oddly enough, she made me cross my ankles before she tied them together. I saw that Donna's ankles had also been tied while they were in a crossed position. Becca fastened my bound feet to the framework on the opposite end of the mattress.
When she was finished binding me exactly like Donna, Becca picked up the roll of duct tape and another strand of rope. "I'm going for the last one," she told George, who had stood admiring her bondage work, "watch them."
George's idea of "watching" us consisted of merely gaping wide-eyed at Donna and me until Becca brought Shirley downstairs. Shirley's wrists were tied together in front of her, and she was thoroughly gagged with the duct tape. When she saw Donna and me, Shirley's eyes grew comically wide.
Shirley was made to lie down next to me, yet once again in the opposite direction so that her feet were next to my head. Becca tied her down to the bed just as she tied Donna and me--she even had Shirley cross her ankles before binding them, as well.
Once we were all tied up, Becca made a careful inspection of all of the knots which secured our wrists and ankles to the fold-out bed. Then Becca stood up and regarded her bound captives with a satisfied smile. We could only stare back helplessly at her, our bodies stretched out taunt like ceremonial victims on a
sacrificial altar. George looked both impressed at our bonds and relieved that he wasn't with us.
Becca reached down and tickled the girls' bare feet, then she came around the opposite side and tickled mine. Neither the girls or I gave any reaction, because we knew Becca was a tickle-hound and had expected this from her. She asked George to help her turn on four fans which were scattered throughout the rec room. Two of them blew warm air directly over us captives on the fold-out bed. It may not have
been air conditioning, but it was better than nothing.
"I hope you guys don't mind spiders," Becca said, in that 'oh-so-casual' manner of hers. "They crawl across the ceiling here, and drop straight down on their webbing. I hope they're not poisonous, because you've got a lot of exposed skin here." With a broad grin, she glanced at George and added, "When we come back in a half hour, we'll probably find the three of them all covered with thousands of spiders."
That thought made George stare up at the ceiling nervously.
I wish I could tell you that Donna, Shirley and I managed to work ourselves free and make our escape--but the plain fact was, we remained tied to the fold-out bed until Becca freed us a half hour later. This is not to say that we didn't try to escape. As soon as we were left alone, both Donna and Shirley began writhing and squirming, which made the bed creak in protest. Donna then tried to reach for the knot binding
my feet, and I even attempted to move them closer for her, but this was a futile gesture; our limbs were tied down too securely, and we were spaced apart just enough so that our bound hands were out of reach of any knots that we could pull loose. After a few minutes, we accepted our fate and merely laid there quietly. I stared at the ceiling and thought about Becca's taunts about spiders. It occurred to me that if I were the captor of this game, I would have strung up rubber spiders directly over the bound captives on the bed.
When Becca returned to untie us, Karen and Jim were with her, as well as George. Both Jim and Karen stared at us with a mixture of shock and awe. Becca actually looked proud. After a few more minutes of laying there under intense scrutiny, Becca finally freed us--however, she only cut us loose from the bed, our wrists and ankles were still tied together.
As Becca and the others started towards the steps, she told us to join them upstairs for some iced tea when we were completely free. I untied Donna's hands while Shirley bent over to free her ankles. Then I freed Shirley's wrists while Donna untied my ankles. Once Donna untied her feet, the three of us finally got off the fold-out bed from hell.
When we joined the others in the kitchen upstairs, Becca, who was pouring the iced tea into glasses for us on the table, started gloating about how, according to the rules of the game, we were all still her captives. "You guys might as well make me the permanent captor of all games from now on," she added, "because you'll never escape anything I put you in."
This started a riotous argument, one which I stayed out of by quietly sipping my iced tea. While I didn't mind having rules which promoted safety in the games, I missed the spontaneity of the games last year, where nobody knew what was going to happen to whom. I had decided right then and there that I was going to get back at Becca--on my own, if I had to. And I'm pleased to say that I did. Of course, that's
another story for another time. Thanks for reading.