Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Andreabound Switches

by Andreabound

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© Copyright 2007 - Andreabound

Storycodes: F/f; maid; bond; rope; cell; tickle; reluct; X

As long time fans of Andreabound's work may know, her website has been offline since 2007. Her earlier stories were published here on, but there were eight more stories on her own site at the time it went offline. Rather than risk the remaining stories being lost to the aether, I'm republishing them here, despite them not being submitted through the usual channels. I hope you all enjoy these lovely works, and that having them all together in one place brings more fans to Andreabound's work.

The original text for this story can be accessed here on the Wayback Machine; it is a great resource preserving many interesting stories that otherwise would have been lost. If you can then please donate to show your appreciation for the service they provide.

After the recent party, I was left to do most of the clearing up. Sara helped a little but, predictably, left me to do most of the work, tottering around in my five inch sandals and, as usual, wearing the maids outfit.

I had previously agreed with Sara that she would have to keep the house clean if she wanted to stay with me, and failure to do this would have consequences. I like my house to look very neat and tidy and be very clean and I’m prepared to put in the work to keep it that way. Sara has a very different view about housework – for her it is to be avoided at all costs.

We both knew that for our relationship to work we would have to swap roles at some point; for me to do the tying, and for her to be on the receiving end. Believe it or not, despite Sara’s liking for all things kinky, I’d discovered that she had never been tied up before. We needed to put this right, and she needed to know what it felt like on the other end of the ropes, so that she could better appreciate what she was doing to me. It always helps to have a reason to swap roles though, and although I knew it was only a matter of time before Sara earned herself a punishment, I didn’t expect it to be so soon after moving in. She only moved in last Monday, and the first weekend had resulted in the house being trashed. To be fair, it was mostly Sara’s guests who had done the trashing. But who said I had to be fair?

So the agreement we reached was that I would turn the tables on Sara on Tuesday night.

I was tempted to tie her up tight and whip her bad; payback for stepping out of line the other week when she pretended to kidnap me. But I remembered back to the first time I had been properly tied (not counting childish games) and I knew it wouldn’t take much to make the point - it’s not the strictness of the ropes that matters on the first time; it the fact that you reach the realization that you can’t get free. I couldn’t wait until Tuesday night and I suspected I wasn’t the only one; Sara was acting very strangely Monday night and Tuesday when I got home. I guessed she thought I might be rough with her. She knew she probably deserved it. The thought of being on the receiving end was obviously making her imagine the worst and her behavior was exemplary. Maybe there’s something in this, I thought. Heaven knows Sara would provide plenty of reasons to deserve being punished. Maybe this would become a regular event – it would certainly help focus Sara’s mind on her chores. As soon as I arrived home Tuesday evening I called to Sara to come into the kitchen. She had been home for some time judging by the mess in the sink, and I told her in my sternest voice that I’d had enough and she would have to be punished. Of course she had left the mess on purpose to make it easier for me but it was still hard for me to keep a straight face while I told her off.

“Get down into the basement at once!” I ordered and Sara gave me a wry smile and obediently disappeared down the stairs.

By the time I’d collected some rope and reached the basement, Sara had already stripped down to her underwear and was standing in the middle of the floor looking slightly embarrassed. This was a turn of events. I hadn’t expected the switch of roles to affect her in such a way. I mused about how surprising people are sometimes. Not wasting any time, I ordered her to finish undressing and move her ass into the jail cell. It was tempting to put her in the oubliette for a spell; just to see the look on her face but I knew that was for another day. Once in the jail cell I pushed Sara onto the bed (still sans mattress) and rolled her onto her back.

“Ouch, I didn’t realize how uncomfortable these springs are”, she said as I moved her into position.

“Maybe you’ll remember that, next time you leave me here for the night” I replied, slowly getting into my role as captor.

I pulled Sara’s hands behind her back and crossed her wrists before wrapping several turns of rope around them. I did the same to her ankles. It would have been nice to tie her knees and elbows too but I wanted her to realize how little rope was needed to totally restrain someone. My lesson required that Sara felt she could escape if only she worked hard enough at it. I knew better of course.

Once her hands and ankles had been tied and cinched, I used another short rope to pull her ankles up to her wrists. Again I didn’t feel the need to make them meet. Loose enough to feel she wasn’t tied to tight; but tight enough that she couldn’t get free. That was my aim.

I turned to leave.

“Is that it?” she said “aren’t you going to gag me?”

“Makes no difference” I replied “You’re not getting free, and I’m not letting you go; no matter what you say. You’re not in charge anymore. You get free only when I decide. It’ll take you a while to understand that, but it’ll come to you eventually. In the mean time I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable. That way you can’t claim you have a cramp or that your circulation is cut off or anything else that might mean I have to let you loose before I’m ready. Besides, I want to hear you make a noise” With that I knelt down at the side of the bed and started to tickle her sides. During our first real episode in bed together, I had accidentally discovered that Sara was very ticklish. It had been a revelation, but I had pretended not to notice; planning to use the information later. I had never really considered tickling as a torture before; not being even slightly ticklish myself.

Now, I put my secret knowledge to good use, and my tickling was having the desired effect. Sara jerked about as if she was receiving electric shocks instead of merely tickles. It’s true; I’m not ticklish, so it was difficult to imagine what it must feel like for her. But I knew, no matter how hard this might be for Sara; it was not going to do any actual harm, so I carried on. Moving my attentions to her bare feet had an even greater effect. Hey, this was fun. I spent the next ten minutes or so mapping out the most ticklish areas of Sara’s body. By the time I’d had enough, Sara was crying and laughing at the same time. Remarkable; this was definitely one to remember for future sessions and, with the added bonus; Sara couldn’t reciprocate. He, he! 

After wiping her running nose and checking her hands and feet once more to ensure she was going to be ok, I walked out closing the cell door behind me. I deliberately made a lot of noise walking across the basement and up the stairs; slamming the door at the top.

Trying to distract myself by watching TV (a rare treat for me these days) I wished I had a way of spying on Sara hogtied and locked in the cell. Maybe I should look into installing a security camera in there that could be connected to the TV.

After an hour I decided to check on my captive.

Walking into the cell, I asked Sara how she was enjoying her captivity.

“I’ve got the point now” she said “so you can release me ok?”

I laughed “No you haven’t got the point at all have you? I get to choose when you get free. You’re no longer in control; that’s the point. You get free when I decide; not a second before. I can see you need more time to reflect on this. See you later” and walked out again, leaving her pouting.

“Come back here” Sara called, just as I was closing the cell door “I’ve had enough, now let me go”

“You just don’t get this, do you?” I sighed “I’ll will see you later, have fun.” I drew the bolt on the door but left it unlocked and walked away. Knowing that she wasn’t locked in but couldn’t get out would make Sara appreciate the deliciousness of her captivity even more.

Several crappy TV programs later, I got bored of flicking through the channels and decided to pay Sara another visit. This time, as I stood looking at her, I could see she had been trying desperately to get free. Her wrists were slightly chaffed where she had worked the ropes and her hair was damp with sweat and was hanging over her face. I merely pushed her hair back from her eyes and stood back to admire her. Sara certainly looked even cuter than usual, all tied up like this.

“I’ve really had enough, now. Let me go you bitch.” And with that, Sara started shouting her usual abuse at me. Ah, back to the old Sara already! Was she getting worked up, or what?

I just stood there watching her impassively, trying not to laugh, until the shouting stopped.

“I don’t have to let you go at all, if I don’t want to” I said matter-of-factly, “In fact I don’t even have to listen to your bratty voice complaining about it if I don’t want to; I could easily gag you. But actually, I’m not going to. In fact, I’m enjoying listening to your pleading, ‘cause I know it won’t change a thing. You will stay just like that until I decide otherwise. That’s all there is to it, Sara.”

The shouting started again and it wasn’t until I closed the door at the top of the stairs that her voice became muffled enough that it wasn’t annoying me. I went upstairs to my bedroom to find something to tidy, well away from the noise. 

Another hour later, long after the shouting had stopped and, even the crying that followed it, had ceased, I ventured back downstairs.

I could see the defeat in Sara’s eyes; she’d finally got the point of the exercise. She realized she would get free only when I decided and she no longer had any say at all in the matter. I stroked her hair and told her she had learned a valuable lesson today and, now she understood, I could let her go. Then I told her I wanted to ensure that the lesson would be remembered, so I was going to leave her there for another hour or two; or maybe even all night.

This was a test; I wanted to see if she was faking her submission in order to gain her release but Sara just put her head back down on the bed and sighed gently. I could tell from her compliant response that she had indeed reached a point of understanding; a paradigm shift in her awareness of freedom and captivity; of control and submission. I was tempted to let her free right then, but steeled myself and walked out again. An hour later I did go in and release Sara from her bonds. She was all floppy and like putty in my hands as I helped her upstairs and laid her on my bed. After I got undressed, I lay beside her and… well you can guess the rest. 


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