Pleasure Recaptured bondage story | rope tied escape

I can't say - really - just how long ago it started. It is not necessarily true that, as you get older, so your memory gets confused. You can always recall things in their correct order of happening... especially if they were happenings that made an impression at the time. What is true however is that, as you get older and you slow down the rate at which you consume life, so Time seems to slip by with ever-increasing speed. Closing up on eighty, for example, almost everyday seems for me to be a Friday - we are always just beginning another weekend!

Charli and I had been friends since shortly after I retired and moved into this conveniently small flat. We have always got on together so very well. There was nothing amorous in the association just a great friendship based, I believe, on mutual understanding and tolerance. Several times in the early days I invited her out for a dinner but always she said no. Next day she would turn up with a basket full of goodies and would cook a slap-up evening meal - just to make up for her rudeness, she would say.

I grew to realise that the truth was she really couldn't bother with the preparations for such an outing - it simply was not her thing. Where many young ladies would relish a dinner invitation from a good-looking young(ish) man it had never been a turn-on for Charli. She had always preferred a quiet private evening in which a final outcome in bed was not a foregone conclusion. It was by no means forbidden but, with Charli, it was a natural act of finale, a mutually agreed happening, something that followed-on from what had gone before. An extension of pleasure rather than a pleasure in itself.

With that realisation came the knowledge that she acted for us both - I too dreaded the effort and was secretly glad that she turned me down. And out of that learning came the acceptance that, with us both in the evening of our lives, an evening spent eating at home and talking most of the night away was a much more enjoyable pastime.

And that was the way we grew older together in an ever-deepening friendship. So I was not surprised when, one evening, I opened my door to the summons of the doorbell to find Charli standing there. What did surprise me was the fact that she had with her a young companion. The young lady had certainly not been in the front row when Mother Nature had handed out the good looks but she had received compensation in the form of a sensational body. She moved with the lissome grace of a big cat; superb muscle tone, a great spring in her step, erect carriage with a perfectly straight back. Without doubt she was a trained dancer and she could have spent a month walking around me and never would I have tired of watching. Yes, as many would express it crudely, she did go in and out in all the places a woman should reverse but for a girl who wants a good time, the face is crucial.

I invited them in and went to put the kettle to work; with a visit from Charli - indeed with a visit TO Charli - a cup of tea was an essential. When I came back to my small living room I found the young lady examining my bookcase with great interest. Charli well knew my interest in the old-time sailors' art of ropework and knots and had spent many hours with me going through my photo and picture collection of square-riggers and other assorted sailers. Such beauty regrettably will come no more to this earth and we can but regret its replacement by smelly smokestacks and towering ungainly steel walls which should never be allowed to float on water.

Their skills in rope handling and knotting were indeed a matter of life-or-death to those old salts. A rope under strain must not let go whether it be a steady strain or an intermittent jerking motion. Ropes get wet and swell but nevertheless it was essential to be possible to untie them when required yet they must never slip. Thus almost every one of the myriad attachments between ropes and spars and belaying points had their own specific knot almost of all of which have dropped into oblivion in today's riot of untieable plastic cordage and steel clamps.

Tea and biscuits all round and I waited to hear the purpose of their visit. That there was a purpose I knew because, as I have already made known, Charli and I knew each other very well. Charli turned to her protege and gave a nod: "The floor is yours."

"Oh, please Aunt, I couldn't. It's so embarrassing."

But Charli was adamant: "It's your problem. Your request. You must make the effort."

"But..."

I took the reins: "Suppose you start by telling me your name. Yes, your Aunt did introduce us but, and Charli knows this only too well, I simply cannot remember names."

"Amanda", she said. "Although I'm usually called Mandy." By now her face was flaming red and her hands were dancing all over her lap. "It's very... well, you see... the truth is... oh hell... I'm kinky."

"Oh!" I waited a moment and then: "D'you know anyone who isn't?"

For a few moments more she looked as though I had slapped her face and then she burst into a giggle. "Now I know why Aunt Charli likes you so much. She said you know a... a lot about ropes?"

"Ye-es. I'd not deny that."

"You see ... I like the feeling of being tied up. Aunt Charli caught me trying to tie myself which was very embarrassing. Most. But she's a lovely woman and has been trying to help me. In truth... she's not much better at it than I am. We've had a lot of laughs but..."

She trailed off and, if anything, seemed more embarrassed than ever.

"That's not so very kinky," I said gently. "Lots of people do it for fun. Lots of ladies like to be rendered helpless and indulge fantasies of kidnap, rape, abduction... there is no limit once you enter the land of fantasy. But don't make any mistake about it... it can be terrifying in reality and an experience that can't be left behind."

She sat turning this over in her mind.

"Well," I went on: "What do you want from me? Instruction in ropework? You want me to tie you? I'm a bit old for those games but, as long as Charli's here..."

She hesitated, her eyes on the carpet. "I would like to learn... but, at the moment, if you will... I'm dying to be tied properly."

Quite clearly she was sincere. It had come to mean a great deal to her but, I presumed, she was unsuccessful in finding a partner who could - or would - indulge her. "You have a choice. You can be tied so that escape is possible - the more so with practice and instruction. You can be tied so that escape is only possible with a lot of effort over a long time and, of course, you need to know how. Or... you can be tied so that escape isn't even on the cards."

I saw Charli looking at me: "I never knew," she said with a broadening grin.

At last Mandy looked up but her face continued to imitate the sunset and her hands were still dancing around: "I don't see any point in being made nearly helpless; if you can escape... "

"True. If helplessness is what you want. But there are rules to this game. And please remember that it IS just a game. Above all it has to remain safe."

I delivered a little lecture on safety words and signals and made sure that she was taking it seriously. Indeed she was very serious. On Charli's prompt she went out into the hall and returned with her bag... full of rope!

As she left the room: "Do I detect signs of a misspent youth?" queried Charli.

"Some would consider it well spent."

She erupted into one of her rare hiccupping giggles, which she suppressed as the girl re-entered. That is how, with one-and-a-half-feet in the grave, I came to re-enter the bondage world.

We started of course with simple things. I asked her to hold out her hands but she insisted that I remain seated in my easy chair while she knelt before me. It was difficult to suppress a grin at this innocent adoption of the stereotypical submission position. Then, as Charli drew her chair closer for a good look, I selected a piece of rope and pushed Mandy's hands together palms in.

"You must use several turns of rope," I explained, "so that the strain is spread. Keep the turns neat and tidy and, above all, don't create any crossed turns. That's great for making knots that hold but also great for making bindings that cut the skin and cut-off the blood supply."

I middled the rope and made two loose turns around her wrists. "Now, cinching them like this pulls the rope snugly in to completely encircle the wrists and make it impossible to wriggle out. Now finish off with a knot - this is a reef knot - but put it where the fingers cannot reach it - or the teeth! " and I tied off between her arms.

I left her for a few minutes to struggle against the tie but she quickly admitted that she was helpless. "Right," I said, "we'll now make sure that it's safe to leave you alone by... " and I separated the two ends, passed them each side of her waist and tied them together at her back.

"Oh," she said. It was evident that she was getting into the mood.

"Enough demonstration? Or do you want to continue?"

"Well," she said, a bit too diffidently. "I could still run away - if I could get the door open."

"If you insist." Selecting another length of rope I helped her to sit on the floor and repeated the tie on her ankles. "You'll not run very fast in that."

She wriggled around a bit but it would have been evident to a blind man that she was hoping for something more. "You still want more? OK. Roll over" and with a third length I strung her ankle binding to the rope around her waist. "That's not a very pretty job," I offered, "and it's not really a hog-tie but... it'll keep you busy for a while."

She played with it for perhaps ten minutes and then, in a quietly excited voice: "What is a hog-tie?"

I looked at Charli and received a nod of approval. "OK. But we start again." This time I bound her wrists in the same manner but with a longer piece of rope and put them behind her. That made her really pull against it. Next I tied the ends around her waist and then, from the knot just beneath her belly button, I used the longer piece as a crotchrope - not too tight but enough so that she could learn the consequences of pulling for freedom.

Finally I took the end from her still bound ankles and pulled that up to her wrist bindings. That time I did pull it tight: "That," I said, "that is a hog-tie... so named because it is supposed to be like the manner in which a pig is tied for doctoring or slaughtering. Imagine the ease with which I could now do my Tod Slaughter act on you." She took the point as evidenced by the distinct jump she made in her ropes.

"Yes," said Charli, "but wouldn't your neighbours be likely to object? I was thinking of the noise."

"You are most naughty, very naughty but, since you have suggested it... " I went out to the kitchen and fetched a clean drying cloth from the drawer. Folded and then wrapped around a thick piece of rope from the bag it made a splendid gag of the more-kindly kind. Amanda looked a bit apprehensive but she learned in the next few seconds just what it meant to be bound helplessly. "I hope you have remembered your safety signals?" She nodded vigorously but the accompanying verbal reassurance did not come over too well.

"Well," I said to Charli, "having got this far we might as well finish the job." She looked slightly puzzled until I returned from the hall with my long scarf. When I had tied that several times around Amanda's eyes the girl started to mmmphh vigorously and I thought that Charli was looking a little envious?

"Now," I said, "there's nothing else to do except make another pot of tea. Stay here and watch her, please. Do you remember her safety signal?"

I turned back at the door: "Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. She's... warming up nicely."

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