Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

The Damsel's Guidebook to Distress and Other Unfortunate Situations

by Emma Bond

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© Copyright 2019 - Emma Bond - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; F/f; gag; bond; zipties; hogtie; discovery; caught; spank; toys; cons; reluct; X

The front door bell had rung several times. Then it went silent before the knocking had commenced. I prayed for whoever it was to just go away and leave me alone. It was only when I heard the front door latch being opened and the sound of stiletto heels tapping over the wooden floor boards of my hallway I lost the plot and started to go frantic. 

"Hey sis, I know you are in. Your car is in the driveway. Come on, stop mucking about. You promised me you would come... Holy shit!"

My sister had searched the house, tracking me down in my bedroom. The heels had slowly tapped their way from my hall to my living room. Then down the hall; tap, tap, tap, to the kitchen. There were more swear words. "Paula! Where the hell are you?" I could hear the soft pad, pad, pad, as the heels climbed the carpeted stairway. There was a slight squeak as the bathroom door had been pushed ajar. If I had been sitting on the throne I would have answered her for Christ sake. 

The bedroom door flew open and my sister’s jaw dropped open. Next was the stunned registration of my predicament. Only then came the realization and the expletives, as disbelief, turned into the questioning, “how the hell had I gotten into that position?” 

"Oh my god! What the fuck happened Paula?" She rushed to my side before halting in her tracks and I looked up at her perfectly tanned and shapely legs as she towered over me. My eyes came back down to the five inch Louboutin sling back shoes she was wearing in a gorgeous shade of pink, with obligatory red leather soles. 

"'ice 'umps," I managed to muffle from my gagged mouth. Hey they really were nice pumps!

She glared down at me. Her curly blonde hair was held back in a ponytail, but the tail was draped over her left shoulder onto a sleeveless silk blouse that was left several buttons open to display her ample décolletage. The Louboutin’s matched a leather knee length baby pink pencil skirt. She stood in front of the bedroom window and a halo of sunlight radiated around her. She looked stunning. She also wasn't in a rush to bend down to untie me either. 

My sister Abigail was twenty nine and had been many things to me in my twenty four years of life. She was a tormentor; a baby-sitter; a shoulder to cry on; and my hero and protector all through my life. Sometimes when Mom had gotten mad with me she stood up for me. She took several slapped legs for me back in the day. She had sorted the bullies that plagued me at school. She had covered for me when I came back late from a girlfriends party. She hid the fact from mom when I was fifteen that I had spent my first night out with a guy after the "walk of shame" home. Then she had held my hair back from the toilet bowl when I had been dumped a couple of days later and had drunk myself to oblivion on cheap vodka. Even when all that drink had resurfaced and she was moaning about flecks of my vomit on her new jeans and that she wasn't cleaning up the bathroom after me. She still stayed with me and held my hair out of the way. She did clean the bathroom too while she gave me the "irresponsible" lecture incorporating condoms and safety until I could get a word in edge ways and told her I had made him wear a "Johnny" before he could touch me. I remember getting a sympathy hug from her after I told her that.

Seeing me in my current predicament, my sister stood before me aghast! So what could put the fear of god and the mask of horror onto her face you might well ask? I guess I really should start at the beginning...

Seventies re-runs, in a nutshell. WTF, you ask?

Seventies re-runs were to blame. There were no satellite TV channels at the time. You had the TV beamed into the home via aerials or if your family was better off you got cable which had a heap more channels to watch. Well sis and I used to play Charlie's Angels. I wanted to be the gorgeous Jaclyn Smith who played Kelly Garrett and Abbie was always Farah Fawcett's Jill Munroe. She had the piercing blue eyes and the pretty golden blonde hair and always insisted on it. Well we watched along and the next day we went out and played the parts. When something went wrong I remember being fascinated as the girls were tied up and sometimes gagged too.

If you look back at it now, some of those seventies shows with the damsels were quite intense. Actresses; girls all want to be called actors now; really got tied up. Gags went into the mouth and behind the teeth. Sometimes there was an evil villain who knotted the cleave gag first. The shit over the mouth gags that used to infuriate me and my sister from the fifties and sixties shows could always be slipped off, and we usually did that. Seeing cop shows like Charlies Angels and how they got tied up, made it so much more realistic. And my sister used to make sure I got tied up properly. She came up with the plot and played several roles; goodies and baddies. The clothes line that hung in a long line down the garden with a pole to hold the line up when loaded with wet washing always got taken down and use on my hands and torso. She became pretty good at tying me up too. At first I always offered my hands out in front.

She called me silly. That the Angels were tied hands behind them or were handcuffed in some dastardly way. If I wasn't going to play properly then she wouldn't play with me at all. Well I didn't want to be left out so I usually sighed and let her get on with it. She could be mean and sometimes tied me tightly. When it was my turn to tie her I wasn't very good and she wriggled out to capture me again. We had been playing like it for a couple of weeks. We made sure to hide our games from Mom who would come out and yell blue bloody murder at us both for dirtying her clothes line by rolling around the floor in it. She didn't come and free me though. I remember her tutting and shaking her head and then going back indoors to finish the dinner or whatever it was she was doing at the time.

Well somehow or other after one exciting episode with one of the angels bound and gagged and locked in a dark cellar, we went out to re-enact it. I found myself trussed up tight, hands behind me "De Rigueur"; when suddenly out of my sisters pocket she pulled one of mothers silk neck scarves. Abbie held a corner and let it unfold while standing over me gloating how weak and stupid the Agency was, and that they should fire me and get a real agent who knew what they were doing. The silk she trailed over my cheek and I turned away to avoid it. When she did it again I glared at her although the silk was soft and brushed gently along my cheek. It felt nice. Then she laughed as all I could do was look up to her and her smug gloating face. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief. Then she took the scarf and knotted it at the centre. Up until then we had only played tie up. She knelt down with her legs astride my chest as she ever so very slowly brought the knotted silk closer to my face. I remember wriggling and I turned my face to the side to prevent her.

She laughed. Well I wasn't just going to open my mouth to let her do it. As a budding damsel in distress one needed to do the required amount of struggling first before finally submitting to one’s fate. I was surprised when Abbie pinched my nose as I was still pursing my lips together. I held on before spluttering to gasp some air into my lungs. The knot was forcefully shoved into my mouth and she twisted my head moving my long mousy blonde hair out of the way before knotting the scarf tight at the base of my neck. It was the first time we had used a gag. I must have gone all wide eyed in shock as I remember her stroking my cheek softly to soothe me.

I remember after she gave me a couple of minutes to get used to things, she pulled me over to Daddy's shed. She pulled open the door before she unceremoniously dumped me inside, wedging me next to the lawnmower. I was struggling to wriggle free in vain. The "pièce de résistance" came seconds later. Abbie rolled me onto my side as best she could and with some left over cord at my bound ankles; bent my legs back and hogtied me. Not that I knew what a hogtie was back then. I was shocked. My wrists suddenly pulled towards my feet became tighter and I knew then I wouldn't be able to escape until she let me go. 

She sat and looked at me with a big beaming smile. The mischievous twinkle was still in her eye. She checked the knots and made sure the rope knot wouldn't slip before she turned on her heel; her flowery sun dress flouncing as she turned; and then she locked me in the shed leaving me bound, gagged and very alone in the dark. It was a day of firsts for me. The first time I had been gagged while trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey. The first time Abbie had left me alone while in my bondage. It was also the first time I had ever been locked up in the dark.

I admit that I was scared for the first few minutes. Outdoors in the sun it had been hot. Mother had moaned about putting on sun cream, but in the shed it was nice and cool. I could hear faint noises on the other side of the wooden door. There was a slight breeze ruffling the leaves in the big oak at the bottom of the garden. I heard the creak of the rope swing hanging from the lowest branch of the oak. Birds were cheeping all around. It’s amazing what your ears pick up when you can’t see anything, if you concentrated. 

The shed had a different smell than any room I had been in before too. It was the smell of wood. Well, I guessed it was wood. Treated wood, but not varnish. More an oil based coat. I know Daddy treated the wooden fences, so I guessed he had also done the outside of the shed. I thought I would be more scared. There were cobwebs in the opposite corner that I noticed when Abbie had shoved me down on the floor. The shed smell reminded me of how Daddy smelt when he had been working out here or at his work bench in the garage. It was comforting rather than scary. 

I tried to struggle a little. I knew it was futile, but it was expected of a cute damsel in distress. I had to be cute because Mom always said I was. I had dimples in my cheek and all cute girls have dimples. I also had a small button nose that Daddy sometimes tried to grab and take off. I knew it was just his thumb between his fingers, but I always had to clutch at my nose just to be sure it really was still on my face. It always made him smile when I did that. I couldn't move much, but I had a feel just to see if there was anything I could use to lever the rope off me or at least to chafe the rope to make it easier to break. It wasn't happening. I was at the mercy of Abbie to come let me out, but I also knew she would torment me by making it look like I would never be let out. I tried to move just to keep some feeling in my wrists and ankles which seemed to be a continuous dull ache, because any movement of my legs and ankles pulled my wrist and any movement of the wrists pulled the ankles taut.

I leaned back and sighed. It wasn't worth moving and rubbing my skin raw, because Mom would give us both a whack on the back of the leg. Abbie wouldn't come to release me until she felt I was in so much distress I would be a crying wreck. So I stayed put chewing on the scarf and listening to my surroundings. After a while I started to yawn and I must have dozed off. I woke startled as the shed door banged open. There in the doorway, hands on her hips, was Abbie. The grin on her lips seemed to fade as I woke startled. I tried to get up before pulling on my wrists and the ache returned. She was shouting at me about how useless I was that I couldn't escape and that she wasn't going to be an Angel anymore. She bent and untied my wrists before storming off leaving me to free myself and extract myself from the shed. 

It all comes back to me now and then when I reminisce. That was the day I realized I was into bondage. I wasn't scared and it was so peaceful. The bonus was my sister Abbie was so cross with me she didn't speak to me the rest of the day. I guess her evil, nefarious scheme had backfired and I wasn't the gibbering crying damsel in distress she thought I would be. I had enjoyed being tied up tightly by her. I knew it was inescapable and that without some method to break or cut the rope I was "stuck" Being hogtied and gagged I had let my mind wander and I thought about lots of other things rather than dwell on how helpless I really was. I also knew that at dinner time if Abbie hadn't let me go by then, Mom would have gone frantic calling all the neighbourhood kids to see where I was; and Abbie would have been "dead meat" and grounded for a month for locking me up all afternoon. 

My big sister Abigail being five years older than me soon tired of playing with me and started to go out with boys. I became the hindrance in her life and she told me to get lost more often than not. I may have enjoyed it more if she took the rope and left me bound and gagged in the shed, but that never happened again. My fixation wouldn't go away though and I found myself playing my kinky bondage games alone in my room, and soon she went off to university and I started in high school. My circle of friends grew and I became more confident and when she came home for the summer and the other holidays I was the one that was out and about all the time with no time for her in my leisure time.

She landed a good job and moved to an apartment in the city. Then she caught the eye of her manager and started a relationship. She had to change jobs as the company didn't like that, but she became the woman behind the man that eventually became the director of his division. Even though she was younger than him; he is thirty five to her twenty nine; she had him cut his hair, and wear stylish clothes and go to the gym with her. She drove him on, instilling her ambition to him and boosting his confidence. She would fight him, yell at him and use sex to get her way until he achieve everything she had set out for him to do. They have two young kids now and he dotes on Abbie and she spends a great deal of her time on her knees making sure he wants to come home to her. I guess she did invest a huge amount of time moulding him into her ideal man. 

The strange thing is that she can click her fingers at any man and they would be putty in her perfectly manicured hands, but she can’t see that. 

Hey, she is my sister and that's how she is. The only thing she seems to have neglected is Mark actually worships the ground she walks on and wouldn't run out on her as he has everything he ever desired in a woman and as much sex as he can cope with. 

Well that's enough about her and back to how she found me. 

Did I mention I was into bondage? Of course I did. 

I knew Abbie was coming over. It was Abbie's idea we play the dutiful children taking Mommy to lunch as we hadn't seen her for a while as Daddy had escaped her clutches and was spending his Saturday morning at the golf club with his cronies. 

In truth Abbie was my back up in this instance just in case the release failed. What pissed me off though was she was early. Two bloody hours early. At times, she thinks she can swan in and out of people’s lives. She doesn't realize we all have jobs and sometimes other kinky stuff to do too, and that we aren't all at her whims and beck and call.

Okay, that is unfair. Abbie is an awesome mom. She has me come over to her place in West Sussex all the time. We shop in chic Sussex boutiques and we lunch. She mostly picks up the bill, even though I protest and try to pay. Did I say that if she sees something that I would look good in she would drag me over, and while I would be balking at the cost, she would be buying it in my size. Okay I was pissed at her being early but that's what petulant gagged younger sisters are supposed to be like!

Okay, okay. I'll get back to the bondage stuff, Jeez Louise! 

I had rigged up a block of ice with a heap of string frozen in it and I had taped one of the free loose ends high up on the overhead bedroom door lintel so the ice would melt into a bowl below to catch the drips. The string would release itself when it melted, but remain in the dangle position. Tied to the other free end was my trusty medical shears. Now you can see that I had to wriggle over to use the scissors to cut myself free.

Cute damsels in distress that play self-bondage games really need to have a safe way to get loose just in case. Do you know how long it takes to get a dried up, dusty, dehydrated and desiccated bound and gagged damsel out of your carpet when you find them twenty or so years later because their release has failed?

No? Okay! Neither do I, but I bet it's ages and it will cost a few bucks to hire one of those industrial sized carpet vacuums to do the job properly. You may even have to hoover them up a couple of times over. It sure wouldn't be good for the asthmatics of the bondage world, is all I can say!

Okay, okay. The bondage!

zipties. Or cable ties. You call them what you like, but it was what I was using. 

I had used the two ring non slip tie following all the old Bondage Life pictures on how to do your bondage stuff safely. You get a coil of ropes to slip over your wrists. Tie the rings to your ankle bondage and then pull the rope which pulled the slip knot closed tightening the wrist rope coils and also pulls the prying fingers closer to the ankles. Yep, you can still reach the rings and damsels prying fingers can slip between the rings and that loosens the non-slip slip rope. Then you are free again. It became boring as I wanted to stay tied up for longer, with the freedom taken away from me for certain durations. 

The next method your budding Bondagette used was balloons. Yep, your average run of the mill party balloons with the key inside one. Inflated you drop a load of balloons in the room and bind yourself up, throw on a blindfold and handcuff yourself and wriggle around popping the balloons until you get the key and release yourself. When you are chained up and use handcuffs - well unless you double lock them - they can still tighten. I did say it was obligatory for the cute damsel to struggle right? So I did and was so very careful too. But as I twisted over from my front onto my side I sort of fell on the cuff of one wrist. It tightened and I was in a bit of trouble after that.

So back to the zipties. 

You can make any length you need from a couple of them put together. You pull them as tight as you want. They won’t open, and more importantly they won’t close on you. If you use them, you are pretty securely stuck for as long as it takes for the release method to kick in. And I had found a site online that had several sizes and would post them to me. So when they had turned up during the week I was already fantasising about my bondage session and being, as Bonnie Tyler sang, "a little bit helpless" by myself. All thoughts of Sis and lunch with Mom had gone out of the window.

I was up at seven on a bright sunny Saturday. I had showered and watched the cartoons while eating Cocoa Pops and drinking my first cup of tea of the day. Then I climbed the stairs with my parcel of zipties and ice release and taped it up on the door jam and set an empty bowl under the ice for it to drip into.

I took out a bandanna from my knicker drawer and rolled it up and tied a knot in the centre and then gagged myself with it tightly at the base of my neck.

I crossed my ankles and used a short tie to zip my ankles together. Vrrrrup and my ankles were pressed together. I took a longer tie and another vrrrrup and the tie pressed my knees together with the tie under my knees, just below the tendons that would have been a killer if trapped under the plastic tie. 

I took two longer ties and zipped them together about an inch and started to zip them together around my upper arms and sitting just above my naked boobs. I pulled the tie until it dimpled my flesh and felt tight. Another two the attached the same way sitting just under my boobs made the body tie complete and I had to wriggle my upper arms to allow my lower arms enough leverage to wriggle my hands to my sides. I took three short ties and placed one snugly around each wrist. The longer one I slipped through the ankle tie and tightened it into a loop.

Then I flopped on my side onto the carpet with a little grunt. I wriggled the small ziptie up between my skin and the tie already around my wrist. I pulled my legs up into a ninety degree bend bringing the plastic loop up with it allowing my right hand to grab it. 

With my wrists close together and one hand between the leg loop. I managed to slip the free ziptie under my other wrist tie and then fiddle around until I could get the small ziptie into a position to close. Vrr. 

Gingerly I twisted my hand and felt the slack taken out and the pull of my two wrists closer together. Vrrrrr

I was smiling behind my gag because finally when I pulled the ziptie fully closed my wrists would be as snugly bound as if someone had tied me up. I was pretty chuffed with myself. Vrrrrup. I could feel my wrists palm to palm and there was no give. It was the perfect way I could tie myself up. Okay. It wasn't as nice a feel as rope bondage. There was nothing better for me than to feel the rope around my body. The zipties had a smaller surface area and dug into the skin in a more intense way. I was struggling and testing my bonds. Trying to shuck off the gag by rubbing my jaw against the carpet and the bed leg near my head to no avail which made me pleased I had tied myself up well!

And then the doorbell had rung and my sister Abbie was standing there shouting "Holy shit!" and "Oh my god! What the fuck happened Paula?" 

It’s not like she couldn't see I was properly gagged with a knotted bandanna, so it was a bit stupid of her to expect a cute damsel in distress to answer her properly. I mmphed something unintelligible to her, then I mumbled what the hell was she doing in my house. 

She sat down heavily on the side of the bed with a sigh. "So you are still playing these bondage games we played as a kid. I thought you had outgrown all that kiddie shit." She tutted in disgust, before she leant over to untie the gag letting it drop to the floor by the side of my face.

I twisted on my side to look up at her. "Good morning to you too! I am so glad you could come over two fucking hours early!" I retaliated in the defence of my embarrassed and somewhat helpless position I suddenly found myself in. 

"So is this how you get your kicks now? Tying yourself up, and dropping scissors slowly down to the floor to get free?" 

"Unless my girlfriend the Bondage Fairy comes in and sprinkles magic dust to melt the zipties." I spat back angrily.

"Darling you really shouldn't try to provoke me. I'm the one that's not tied up and helpless here!" She put the emphasis on the obvious and I mumbled an apology. "I have two questions. Are you still coming to lunch with mother, and are you going to spill the beans and tell me all about what’s happening here?"

"Yes, and no. Anyway why haven't you rushed in and untied me, thinking I had been burgled or something? Some sister you are!" I shot back in disgust while still trying to act the cute damsel with what decorum I still had left. 

"Watch it, you nerdy twerp. No burglar in their right mind is going to bother tying a block of ice with scissors on the end of them. You can also bet your arse they wouldn't have bothered to leave a drip tray to stop your floor getting wet. It’s so obvious you did this to yourself Paula, or are you in denial you really get off being tied up?"

I didn't know what to say. "Okay. I admit it. I like being tied up. It’s a game. An erotic game." I blushed. "Now cut me loose so I can get ready."

"Uh-uh. It didn't work like that for the Angels did it?" That surprised me. I know why I remember Charlie's Angels because of the kinky side of my personality. That Abbie remembered those games too was an eye opener. "And you darling aren't in a position to bargain with me at the moment. In fact I can do almost anything I like to you and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Is there?" I had to twist over to glare up at her. "Nice belly button piercing. Don't show Mother. So I guess you still like being tied up huh?"

I wasn't a god damn child. I was a god damn damsel. I have dimples for god's sake. Today was going downhill fast and it wasn't even eleven o'clock. Besides, all my girlfriends said my belly button piercing looked hot. Especially when I wore a two piece bathing suit drinking rum punch sunbathing by the pool. 

"Yes, I like being tied up, okay!" I half shouted back at her. 

"Good." Quick as a flash Abbie was on her knees and rolled me back over on to my stomach, much to my chagrin. She had a mouthful of very un-ladylike abuse from me, while squealing my most abject displeasure. That's another reason cute damsels in distress have to be gagged. They have exceptionally potty mouths when someone comes along and disturbs their precious time in subspace.

Abbie was behind me and she was pulling the end of the ziptie and all of a sudden my easy loose fitting zip hogtie was gone. Vrrrrup, vrrup, vrp, and my fingers could suddenly feel the heel of my feet. There was no slack left and all of a sudden I was back playing Charlies Angels whether I liked it or not.

"You know, you have a lot of these ziptie thingy’s left over. I remember us playing with rope as kids. Mom's washing line I think it was."

She picked up one of the smaller ones and the bitch set about cinching the tie on my crossed ankles. Vrrrup. It tightened my ankles to just that side of very snug and I twisted my head around and I mewed in protest. Then I saw her take up one of the bigger ties. I felt it as she slid it under my arms and brought the ziptie slowly up higher until it was under my elbows and still it moved higher. “No. Please. Not that!” I yelped in protest.

Then I heard the vrrrup and the plastic tie was resting snuggly against my skin. Vrrrup. My elbows were now forced in and I could feel my shoulder blades moving unnaturally towards each other. Vrrrrup. Vrrp. Before I could protest, Abbie had forced my elbows to touch and suddenly I was in the most uncomfortable hogtie of my life. I sucked in my breath in shock. 

"That's better Paula. Not so chatty now are you, huh?"

I think I squealed to her. It went against everything a stoic cute damsel was supposed to act like in the Damsel's Guidebook to Distress and Other Unfortunate Situations. 

"Please release my elbows. I’ll do anything you want! Please?" I whimpered. I would have stamped my foot but hogties make that so hard to do when trying to get your own way.

It got me a swat on my naked bottom and I yelled. Then I was rolled over on my side and she took another ziptie and cinched the knee tie. 

"Shouldn't you be releasing me now so we can meet Mommy?" I tried to change tack. Abbie hates to be late for anything.

"Nice try twerp. You said we have two hours and that was twenty minutes ago." She picked up a couple more of the medium sized zipties. I stared at her. It was imperative for all subdued damsels to look forlorn and helpless with big sorrowful, slightly tearful eyes. Well either I was out of practice on that score, or Abbie was playing hard ball. 

It could also be the fact she was so intent to ziptie the ties around my chest between my arm and my torso. When I struggled to try to stop her she swatted me on the thigh and I could see the red hand print on the top of my thigh. I didn't have any choice but to let her do it. First she joined all the zipties into one long piece of plastic. VrrrupVrrrupVrrrupVrrrup. With the long ziptie she pushed it under the torso ties and pulled the length of plastic around the back of my neck, around and back under the rope ties on my other side and back to join then at the mid-point of my back.

Vrrrrrrrrrup. Abbie was slow and deliberate. As she pulled the big ziptie together is started to cinch between my arms and my back. Vrrrup, vrrrup, vrrrup. The tie was pressing into the back of my neck the more she tightened. My arms felt welded to my body and I knew I couldn't shuck off the body cables over my head which would have been the easy option. I was now completely helpless until my darling sister wanted to cut me free. 

Vrrrup, vrup, vrr. I cursed her again at the jolt in my arms shouting that if she pulled any more, my arms would probably fall off if she didn't stop tightening the bloody ties so tight. I twisted as much as I could to get free from her grip. I had rolled over and the knotted bandana was now right by my chin.

"Shit. Will you please let me go?" I murmured. I was waiting for her to grab the gag and finish the job.

She sat on the floor next to me stroking my hair out of my face. It felt nice after the horrid things she had done to me. "You know I am going to worry about you now. Whether or not you are doing this to yourself every evening and whether Mom and Dad are going to get a crazy call in the middle of the night to say my kinky sister has been found dead in her bedroom half eaten by the local cats because she had bound and gagged herself so tightly she couldn't get free." I know she was joking, but her point hit home.

She sat stroking my hair. "Come over next Saturday evening. I have to take Mark to the airport as he is away on a business trip to Japan next week. We can go for Pizza with the kids and then put something on Netflix. Once I put the kids to bed, maybe I can tuck you up nice and snug. But only if you want though?" The last part was said quietly like she was almost embarrassed. 

W. T. F.

I couldn't believe my ears. All I wanted was to be let go now, not worry about next weekend. Then Abbie was up and she was rummaging in my laundry basket. Two pairs of my cotton panties were tossed close to my head and I groaned as Abbie knelt beside me and picked up the red pair of briefs and slowly and deliberately started to fold them up in front of my face. 

Every smart damsel knew what was about to happen. It's been in all the story books since time immemorial and now was all over the internet. I was wondering if my mouth was big enough to cope with two pairs of panty briefs stuffed in my mouth. 

"Be a good girl and open up," Abbie cooed.

Yeah. Like that was ever going to happen. An intrepid damsel would never have willingly opened her mouth to be gagged. It just wasn’t the done thing! Well not without putting up a modicum of a struggle first! Didn’t my sister know the rules? 

As I twisted my head away she pinched my nose. It wasn't like I could move very much with all the zipties pulled taut. She pulled my nose up raising my head back. When I had to suck in a gasp of air, the panties were forced into my mouth and that was that. A cute damsel’s worst nightmare was to be left chewing on her own panties. Yesterday’s panties! Eeeuuw. Abbie was a nasty bitch.

She had her hand over my mouth to prevent me spitting them out too. Maybe she had read the rules after all, but just forgot the part about not volunteering one’s self to be gagged. I was twisting my head to get free when I noticed her reaching for the blue pair of briefs. I tried to scream no, but she just carried on. The panties were shaken out and she was stretching them over my head. That surprised me for I thought I would be chomping on them for the rest of the morning.

The gusset went over my nose and I knew Abbie was trying to humiliate me. The hand over my mouth was adjusted as she straightened the panties over my face and then I felt the knotted bandanna pushed against my lips and forced back into my mouth. She pulled the bandanna tight and then she gave it several tugs before she knotted it at the back of my neck.

She took one last ziptie and she pushed me flat on my stomach. Then I felt the plastic on my upper arm and vrrrupp. My elbows suddenly felt very tight. I growled at Abbie to stop cinching my elbows. They were already tight enough I thought they would drop off. "You are so cute Paula. You are much more fun to play with now than when you were a kid. You are much more realistic at trying to escape." She laughed while I squealed curses at her.

I got a swat on the bum and then she said. "I'll cut you free in an hour or so and maybe then we can meet Mommy." And then she was gone.

"Yeah! Run bitch. You better run!" I screamed into the gag. Okay, as much as I tried to scream it at her, I could only come up with a half muffled "OO EDDA UN."

She sure wasn’t running, damn her. It was a sashay. The damn heels she was wearing enhanced her calves and her bum was all pert and provocative. She pulled my escape method off the door lintel and picked the bowl up and shut the bedroom door. Then I heard the pad, pad, pad down the stairs and the heels tap away down the hallway to the kitchen. When the kettle started to whistle I knew she must be having a coffee and reading the newspaper I had left on the kitchen table.

With the door shut I couldn't get out of my bedroom without her help. Abby had the medical scissors I usually use to escape too. It took a lot more effort to move now I was bent up like a pretzel. I tried to wriggle my fingers in the ankle ziptie. If I could pull it really hard I might be able to break the zipper function. I tried to pull my feet away from my body with my index finger partly under the ziptie. With Abbie using another ziptie to cinch my bonds, it really was the best I could do. It was also quite useless.

I had purchased what I thought were the best cable ties I could get. Let’s just say they didn't have a ton of five star ratings for prompt delivery and quality of product for nothing. That reminded me. It was obligatory for every well bound damsel to compliment the quality of ones methods of restriction. Be it tape or rope or in my case the zipties I was now incapacitated by. I would have to leave a comment on their website. 

I tried to wriggle around the bed to look in the wardrobe mirror. If I could see even the slightest chink in Abbie's bondage armour I might be able to exploit it. And that was where I finally saw what she had done. Did I mention my sister could be a real bitch? Well this really proved it!

I would have laughed if it were someone else. The blue panties over my head, with the bandanna knot forcing them into my mouth. My cheeks looked like a Hamsters after they had squirreled away a bunch of winter nuts in their cheek pouches. Nuts would have been the preferred taste at any rate. 

I had no choice but to chew on the red panties I had been wearing at the gym last night. And before you go asking; it did taste of sweat, among other things. A cute damsel would never discuss in depth her gag nightmares, but merely brush over those details. The small gusset was perfectly aligned to let my eyes see where I was going, but for maximum effect directly over my nose. Just you wait Abbie! This is going to cost you big time, I raged. 

When my body came in to view I turned on my side twisting my head for a better view over my right shoulder. It was just as I suspected. My squirmy fingers had been probing the zipties for the last ten minutes and now my eyes just confirmed the inevitable. There was hardly a gap between my skin and the plastic tie.

I was stuck fast and my wrists, ankles and knees had started to rub, due to the exertion of moving the couple of feet over the bedroom carpet. That was nothing in comparison with my elbows. I know I was naked and the girls had to look after themselves what with no bra. With my arms forced together behind my back my tits looked twice as big as they usually looked. I couldn't take my eyes off them. My jaw might have dropped open in shock if I hadn’t been so thoroughly gagged by my "loving", "caring" sister. 

Apart from the annoying panties over my head, my body and especially my tits looked amazing. Bloody hell! My nipples looked permanently hard even as I could see my cheeks blushing red. Or was that from the tight gag? No. It had to be from being semi turned on, by being inescapably bound and gagged by Abbie. Fourteen years after we had last played Charlie's Angels, I was finally inescapably bound and gagged with no way to get free. If I could only get to my vibrator in the underwear drawer three feet higher than I could reach I might have had the perfect morning.

As hard as I tried with my hands now sore I just couldn’t get my fingers in a comfortable position to pay hunt the clitty and I realised I was pretty exhausted from twisting my hand to finger and diddle myself. It was quite a shock when the door opened and Abbie stood there before me. I really did blush that time as I was trying to hump the floor, rubbing my puss into the carpet to try to get off.

"You want me to come back in ten, twerp?" She had the most evil smirk on her face and I know she knew what I was trying to do. She had her arms crossed with one hand up showing me the medical scissors in her hand making exaggerated snipping sounds and she leant back against the wall with one of her legs up around knee height pressing her heeled shoe against the wall like a sexy vamp. 

She was doing it again. Acting like a sexy "femme fatal" in the Noir films I secretly love to watch. I gave a pleaded muffled reply. It was much more of a whimper than I had intended and Abbie stood up straight and in a stride she was standing over me and a snip cut through the air and my elbows shot apart. I am pretty sure my sigh of relief could be heard in the next door neighbour’s garden. 

“I bet that feels good right now Paula. You know you have been like that for the best part of an hour.” She pulled at my elbows and started to rub my arms. She was firm but tender and I could slowly feel my arms once more. I hadn’t realised I could endure such a strict tie and I felt like a real damsel after such brutal bondage. 

“Now I want you to be honest with me. Remember I can always go get a wooden spoon and paddle your arse!”

I turned over with what I hoped was a pout, then realised I was still little Miss Panty-Face and Abbie wouldn’t be able to see. I nodded.

“So this is an erotic fantasy and you really play these games often?” I kept my silence. The damsel code was not to reveal any secret information. Even under the most extreme torture. Abbie started to stroke one of her painted fingernails down my feet. I couldn’t help but squirm and wriggle my feet away from her fingers. Then without mercy she was tickling both my feet and I burst out in a muffled laughter. She tickled me for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes. 

“You want to answer or shall I continue?” Abbie knew I was ticklish. It was the worst thing she could do to me. I guess that had to count in the Damsel's Guidebook to Distress and Other Unfortunate Situations. I would rather have candlewax dribbled over my boobs than be tickled. And yes I did try that once, so I nodded until I thought I would shake my head off.

“And I wasn’t mistaken just now. You were trying to diddle yourself off.” 

I blushed but I guessed she couldn’t see it. I refused to answer and the tickling suddenly started. This time Abbie didn’t stop. She sat beside me and then astride my legs pressing my calves down hard onto the back of my thighs. I wasn’t able to wriggle away and the onslaught kept up. I thought I was going to pee myself; I was laughing so much. Then it stopped and she asked me once again. This time I nodded and muffled a yes as best I could. 

She got up and sat back on the bed. “I thought so, you naughty girl.” I twisted my head to try to see her and the gloating smile she had when she locked me in the shed was on her face now. 

“Are you sure you want to come with me to lunch with Mommy? I think you are having such a lot of fun here; it seems such a shame to spoil your fun.”

I started to get worried. I didn’t like the implication Abbie was pondering over.

“Okay twerp. Every self-respecting woman I know has a vibrator. Where do you keep yours?”

I shook my head and muffled a protest. Now things were getting weird. Abbie was my sister for god sakes. It was immoral. She wouldn’t play with me with toys, surely? I panicked, twisting around to get free. No. Please God don’t let her do this to me.

“Stop being a nerd and over thinking things. I am NOT going to fuck you Paula. Jeez you can’t think I would ever do that? You did! Fuck it Paula I am your sister!” She screeched and shivered in disgust. She knelt down beside me. 

“I get you wanting to tie yourself up. I get you fantasising about guys and maybe girls coming in to find you. I can sort of understand a faceless burglar finding you and fucking you while you are helpless. But me? I strongly hope you aren’t fantasising about me!”

She started to spank me hard until I screamed “I wasn’t! I wasn’t!”

“I uzzen, I uzzen,” echoed around my bedroom. Then Abbie was up and browsing through my drawers and my bedside table until she found it.

I had a nice eight inch silver metallic vibrator. I could have bought a more realistic one. A super-dooper multi speed control with veins and balls, but I liked the simplistic device with a turn control at the base. I kept it under my knickers in my underwear drawer washed and cleaned after every use. She dropped it on the floor beside my head. Then she was back kneeling behind me.

I sensed the ziptie packet rustle and then she was placing a ziptie around my waist pressing my arms into the small of my back. Vrrrup. Then another was cinching between my arms and my back. Vrrrup. When she re-ziptied my elbows I screamed in frustration. And then once again, when she cinched between my elbows. 

“Now you listen to me darling. You want to be tied up. So here you are. It’s as tied up as I can help you to be.” She started to trim the waste plastic from all the ties about my body. Snip, snip, snip. 

She checked my gag and untied it and pulled it tighter then knotted it off. I groaned as the cloth pressed into the corner of my lips and I could feel my lips pull back over my teeth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll placate Mommy and say you had to go in to work at the last minute. You can pay for lunch in a couple of weeks.”

She stood looking down at me with a big smile like she was satisfied that I was so tied up I could never get free without being released. “I have left you the vibrator so if you really want to “play” properly you can. I hope the batteries are still good.”

She picked up the waste plastic and the scissors that were by my head and she gave my bum a hard swat and I squealed again. Then I was shouting blue bloody murder at her when she turned and sashayed out of the room leaving me tightly bound and heavily gagged and with no means of escape.

Oh my God. Abbie was leaving me without any means of escape. Now I was scared.

My body was aching all over. Looking up in the mirror my tits had gone back to being huge. And my nipples looked like little bullets pointing out on display. I could hardly move without some ache or small pain shooting through my body. I tried to struggle but with my arms so restricted I could only feel my heels. Well that wasn’t strictly true. My fingers could wander just a little. I could feel my naked bottom and my fingers could easily rub my perineum. It’s the spot between my bum and vagina. Well let’s just say if you touch it in the right way, then I can just be putty in your hands while you get to explore the rest of my lower sexy bits.

Well isn’t it obligatory to grope a damsel when they are bound and gagged and very helpless? I am pretty sure that it is in the early chapters of the Damsel's Guidebook to Distress and Other Unfortunate Situations. If it isn’t, then it bloody well should be!

The touch of my finger on the sensitive, taut skin of my perineum made me feel a little better. I could just slip my finger into my sex about an inch. When I did I realised although I was strictly heavily bound and gagged and my body was protesting for all it was worth. My puss was as wet as an overcoat in an April shower. 

I reckon I had spent about ten minutes trying to get off in my uncomfortable position. I was panting lightly over the gag when the bedroom door opened. My bloody sister was getting into a habit of trying to ruin my Saturday morning. 

“Christ Paula, can’t you leave your fucking clit alone, at least until I have gone?”

I rolled over on my side embarrassed and had pulled my fingers away as soon as I heard the door open. I swore at her over the gag but I guess she couldn’t translate my muffled reply “Oo rr a uggin idch Ag’ee.”

She had that sweet innocent smile on her face like she did as a kid. That one where she looked so cute, that she couldn’t possibly have been the instigator of any mischief. 

“Darling you know you are secretly having fun. You say you like bondage so you are in bondage. You like being gagged so I left you gagged. Okay I get to have my fun with you too twerp. You get to struggle for a little while longer while I take Mommy off to lunch. If you are very, very, good, I will come back in a couple of hours and let you go. Why do you think I left you the vibrator? If you really want to play the damsel you can get off on being one.” 

I was a little shocked at how forthright her reaction to me was. She rolled me over and then pulled aside my panty ear muffs and kissed me on the cheek. “Have fun this afternoon twerp.” Then she rose and walked out of the bedroom and shut it behind her. Then a few minutes later I heard the front door shut and the key lock the door behind her. Then her Range Rover gunned into life and she really was gone.

It took a while to really believe she had actually gone. I also felt a little easier now. Abbie had blustered around it, but I knew she would be was coming back in a couple of hours. 

I was back to square one. I couldn’t escape. Well I was shut into my bedroom, wasn’t I? I couldn’t open the door to the bathroom hogtied on the floor like I was. I couldn’t use my nail clippers or nail scissors. Besides they were kept in my bathroom cabinet with the mirror which was at least four feet higher than I could reach and also on the wall over my bathroom sink. 

Even if my wrists weren’t already welded into the small of my back with the zipties, there was no way I could think how to get at them, and I am a wriggler when I am tied up.

I guess there was no other alternative. I let my fingers do the talking and I was soon back in to the throes of passion. As I said, it’s not like I could escape from my bedroom. Not without being able to stand up at least.

Okay. So what did I know? It was almost midday. I was definitely a bound and gagged damsel and as time wore on I would really be in some distress. I couldn’t believe Abbie re-ziptied my elbows. They ached. I had better get down the gym and start to do some yoga. All damsels in the storylines were super fit and flexible. Now I was tied up and gagged just like them, my body felt like a sack of shit and I could hardly move. 

They might be fitter than me though, but they had to endure hours of monotonous boredom and bondage with only their struggles for their pleasure. I guess that’s what happens when you get tied up with your clothes on and you can’t reach your naughty bits.

After another ten minutes or so of frustration, of being on the edge of coming and not quite getting over the edge, I grunted in frustration at the lack of reach of my fingers. Abbie said she would be gone for a couple of hours. She left me a toy to play for the duration. That was much better than a bloody crotchrope and having to saw it between your labia to get off. Damn thing wasn’t near to hand though.

I edged around as best I could for about ten minutes until I was near to it. I was constantly looking into the mirror trying to wriggle around and trying to position myself in the mirror where I thought the vibrator would be close to my hands. I grunted in pain as I slipped over onto my side trying desperately to place my hand as close to the vibrator as I could. I managed to get a finger onto the shaft of the vibrator but as my finger pressed down trying to wriggle it closer to my hand, I pressed down on it to hard and it popped away rolling out of reach. 

I had to hump my shoulder over a few inches, which wasn’t easy on my shoulders as they were pulled back due to my elbows being ziptied together. More groping with my fingers for what seemed ages and another shoulder adjustment to move me along the floor another couple of inches; and I mmmphed in triumph at the successful retrieval of my toy.

I grunted again as I rolled on my stomach. I couldn’t move my fingers as well as I could before Abbie had pulled my wrists into my back. I could use the vibrator passing it down through my butt cheeks until the tip was pressing on the lower half of my sex. Then I fumbled as I twisted the base of the vibrator to fire it up to full blast. Pressing down on the vibrator a little bit more I could slide it up and down over my clit. By hooking my finger around the shaft I could press the tip of the vibrator onto my clit with a little pressure. I could instantly feel my arousal. This was so much better than trying to diddle myself with my impeded fingers. When I came it wasn’t earth shattering. It was more a feeling of relief that I could. It was a nice contrast to the constant aches in my pent-up body. I was tired and rested my panty-faced cheek on the floor. Glancing up in the mirror I could see my bedside clock. It was just after half twelve.

It would be well after three before Abbie would return. I think the lunch reservation was for one by a riverside pub Mom liked to visit on special occasions. Well on a nice sunny day like today I could see them sitting and sharing a bottle of wine, or a gin and tonic or two, without a care in the world as they watched the world go by on the river. 

What other choice did a suitably ziptied, bound and gagged, naked damsel in distress have? To all intents and purposes there was no real alternative as to what to do. I twisted the knob on my vibrator and slowly pressed the shaft back between my legs, this time trying to guide the tip between my labia and pressing the vibrator inside myself. I hoped I wouldn’t chafe my wrists raw as I used my finger tips to press the shaft of the vibrator slowly in and out of my now wet puss. 

This was every girl’s bondage dream. Well, it was mine at least. Mine was to be in inescapable bondage. A fat wad mouth packing gag and a tight cleave gag over the top pressing it deeper into the mouth. With no way to escape one's bondage; and a good sex toy deep in my pussy. This was what bondage was all about. I could already feel the tingle in my kitty and the shallow breathing start to happen. My orgasm was already building and I felt light headed; the urge to orgasm was building.

In one of the last chapters of the Damsel’s Guidebook to Distress and Other Unfortunate Situations, it isn’t the respectful thing to brag about ones struggles in bondage and to skirt around the emotions and enjoyment or lack of - and you have to be crazy not to have enjoyed it – so let’s just say that I had about three more hours to endure and a pending orgasm I knew would be absolutely huge. My only hope was the batteries would last a couple more hours.


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