Stories of Tie Up Games

A Night Filled with Goosebumps (Part I)
by OldTUGger
(M/F, consensual bondage; R rated)


“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she half-murmured, half-whispered.

I looked up from my handiwork and scanned her face for signs of trouble -- anxiety, distress, disgust -- and instead was treated to a bemused smile.

Frankly, I couldn’t believe she had agreed to “do this,” either.

For months, Sara and I had traded messages on the Tugstories forum and on Fetlife. We learned we had a lot in common. We both enjoyed using a shared talent for language to amuse, entertain and titillate one another. We both enjoyed the outdoors. More important, though, we both enjoyed chatting about bondage.

We both, as it turned out, were quite experienced. She had played tie-up games extensively through her teen-age years and through college. She reckoned she had been tied scores of times by playmates, classmates and boyfriends. I had been similarly precocious. Starting at age eleven, I had played tie-up games with scores of girls and women.

Sara saw photos of some of my handiwork in my FetLife gallery, and she seemed to like what she saw. She often commented on the pictures, and sometimes left hints that she’d enjoy being tied in such a fashion. Eventually, as time passed, she and I became trustful enough of one another to reveal our actual names and actual locations. We were both dumbstruck to discover that we lived only two hours’ drive away from one another.

I’m not the boldest fellow in the world, and weeks passed before I finally gathered the courage to suggest we meet for dinner and a “rope date.” To my everlasting surprise and endless delight, she accepted!

And now she stood before me, clad in only her bra and panties, smiling bemusedly as I wrapped a length of soft black nylon cord around her delicate wrists.

“Do your worst,” she said. “Don’t be shy, and don’t spare the cords. I want to be tied up every bit as thoroughly as the ladies in your photos.”

I managed to keep my expression impassive while my inner Snidely Whiplash did handsprings. “Your wish is my command, Milady,” I said. “You do like hogties, don’t you?” Goosebumps rose on her slender forearms. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The goosebumps remained as I cinched the wrist ropes. They grew even more pronounced when I looped another length around her upper arms and pulled her elbows so close together they nearly touched. Four turns of the doubled rope later, I cinched the windings and, running the free end under her armpits and over the back of her neck, fashioned a yoke to keep the elbow tie from slipping downward.

“Too tight?” I asked.

“A little snug, maybe, but I like it. Keep going.”

“Are you up for a crotch rope?”

“You bet.”

She stood patiently as I wrapped a doubled rope tightly around her waist three times, ran the free end through the bight and threw three quick overhand knots into the length that remained. “Those are ‘happy knots,’” I said as I passed the rope through her legs and, with a quick tug, seated the knots firmly into her silk-covered cleft.

Sara rose on her toes as I knotted the taut strands to the back of the waist ropes. Her goosebumps rose, even more prominently than before. Twisting her hands in her bonds, she hooked the crotch rope with one of her fingers and gave it a swift yank. She gasped, and her eyes went wide.

“Naughty, naughty,” I said, grinning. “Don’t make me tape those fingers together.”

She smiled and stuck out her tongue.

“Suit yourself.”

I placed her palms together and covered her hands, first with vet wrap and then with black electrical tape. “Now behave.” Her eyes twinkled as she pushed out her lower lip and feigned a pout. “I don’t have much choice, do I?” she asked.

“Nope.” I grabbed the front of the crotch rope and, pulling upward, walked her on her tiptoes to a nearby chair. “Now let’s do your legs.” She sat silently as I cinched wide bands of rope snugly around her thighs, upper calves and ankles.

“Got any last words?” I asked.

“Same as before: Do your worst,” she said cheekily.

She sat patiently as I adjusted the straps of the harness-gag to fit her face, then opened her mouth wide to accept the shiny black ball.

“And now, a surprise,” I said as I tightened the leather straps and fastened the buckles. She drew a deep breath as I pulled the soft leather blindfold over her eyes, and her skin erupted once more into goosebumps as I knotted it into place.

“Let’s put you on the floor,” I said as, cradling her torso, I lowered her face-down to the carpet. She laid there patiently as I took a length of rope, knotted it to her ankle bindings and strung it through the yoke holding her elbow ropes in place. Slowly and inexorably, I tightened the hogtie rope until her shoulders and knees hovered slightly off the floor. I returned the remainder of the hogtie rope to her ankle ropes and secured it to a D-ring on the harness gag. The taut rope pulled her head back and seated the gag's ball more deeply inside her mouth.

I sat down on the floor and examined my handiwork. Sara wriggled a bit to test her bonds, but couldn’t otherwise move. She could rock forward and backward and side to side, but otherwise seemed satisfyingly stuck. Despite her strictures, she did her level best to grind her hips into the tight crotch rope. Her breathing quickened and her face, either from stimulation or exertion, turned bright pink.

“Here, let me help you with that,” I said, rolling her onto her side. “That should let you move a little bit. Have fun.”

I watched, fascinated, as her hips rocked slowly back and forth. Before me lay a slender, pretty blonde, growing ever more excited by the bondage I’d placed her in. The goosebumps rose again, but this time they were mine.

Great story. I can see this happen in real life.
Thanks for sharing.

Cool story, hope more is coming.

Fun and naughty story OldTUGger!

A Night Filled with Goosebumps (Part II)
by Old TUGger
M/F, consensual bondage, rated R


“Wow, that was fun!” Sara mused after I released her from her bonds.

She had spent 30 minutes trussed, gagged and writhing on the floor. The harness-gag had mussed up her hair, and rope marks crisscrossed her arms, legs and torso. She sat, bemused, running her fingers over the ones that encircled her wrists.

“Let me get you a bottle of water,” I said. “The better hydrated you stay, the quicker the rope marks will disappear.”

She nodded and, when I handed her the bottle, she twisted off the cap and drank greedily.

“You did really well,” I told her. “That was a lot of rope, and not exactly a beginner’s gag. You seemed to handle them easily.”

“That was pretty tight,” she admitted, “but I’ve endured worse.”

“Really?” I asked. “Want to tell me about it?”

“One time at a bondage play party, I spent what seemed like an eternity on a ‘horse.’ Know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah. A beam that has three flat sides and one pointed side. You ride on the pointed side,” I replied. “How were you tied?”

“My legs were frogtied, and my hands were tied up between my shoulder blades,” she said. “My poor crotch was bearing every bit of my weight. I probably wasn’t on the blasted horse more than 10 minutes, but it seemed like hours. I finally tapped out and used my safeword.”

“I’m impressed.”

“It made an impression on me, too,” she said sarcastically. “I walked funny for two or three days before things returned to normal down there.”

“I’ll try not to make you repeat that,” I said with a grin.

Her blue eyes twinkled as she returned the smile. “Thanks.”

“The second tie of the evening will be ‘The Lady’s Choice,’” I said. “Describe what you want and I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

Sara sat silently for a few seconds, searching her imagination for a tie that tickled her fancy but still could be endured. “How about tying me to that?” she asked, pointing toward a sturdy, slat-backed wooden chair.
“Sure. How do you want to be tied?”

She outlined her idea. As she delved into the specifics, goosebumps began rising on her arms.

“Wow. Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I said it before and I’ll say it again: Do your worst.”

Twenty minutes later, I stepped back to admire two things: my handiwork and Sara’s unexpected toughness. This was no fragile flower.

Her arms, bound and cinched at the wrists and elbows, hung ramrod-straight over the chair’s low back. They were straight because she could hardly bend them; a doubled strand of rope tautly connected her wrist-ropes and the horizontal bar between the chair’s rear legs.

More doubled strands of rope crisscrossed her upper body, firmly securing her shoulders and upper torso to the chair’s back. A broad band of rope, wrapped tightly around her tummy, welded her lower torso to the vertical slats at her lower back.

Cinched frog-ties, secured to the chair’s side bars, kept her thighs spread wide apart.

She had asked to be harness-gagged again, and to have the harness’ top D-ring tied to her elbow ropes, pulling her head back severely.

And there she sat, able only to flutter her fingers and stare at the ceiling.

“Are you sure you want the rest of this?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” she grunted around the gag.

“All right, here it comes,” I said. Goosebumps rose along the insides of her thighs as I switched on the Hitachi.

Great second Part I like the dialogues and the concept of the story!

Love it, very nice!

A Night Filled With Goosebumps (Part III)
by OldTUGger
(M/F, consensual bondage, rated R)


Sara sat on the sofa, eyes blank. Every few seconds, she giggled as a tremor raced through her body.

I wrapped a fleece throw around her shoulders and, sitting beside her, cuddled her against my body.

After a few minutes, her eyes began to focus again. She looked up at me, a goofy grin on her face. “Welcome back from la-la land,” I said. “I think you got a little -- how shall I say this -- ‘overstimluated.’”

“How many orgasms did I have, anyway?” she asked. “I lost count after four or five.”

“Nine, and you wanted to go for more, but you were so far out in subspace at the time you weren’t capable of making a rational decision. I switched the Hitachi back to its low setting and brought you down gradually.”

“I never realized how powerful those things are,” she said wonderingly. “Then again, I’ve never had one used on me while I was tied. I think the vibrations, combined with the tight ropes, really sent me over the edge. Thanks for watching out for me.”

We sat there, reliving the experience and making small talk, for quite some time.

“That was some ‘Lady’s Choice,’” I remarked. “Maybe I’d better choose the next tie we try.”

“I’d like that. Maybe something with a little more rope, but a little less stimulation?”

“Your wish is my command. Fortunately, I had something just like that in mind. Want to hear what you’re in for?”

“You bet!”

I told her, and as I did the goosebumps rose once again on her forearms. “Do you always get goosebumps when you think about bondage?”

“It’s a funny thing. When I think about it objectively, the goosebumps don’t appear. But when I envision the ropes tightening around me…” her voice trailed off as the wave of gooseflesh on her forearms spread upward toward her shoulders.

“I see. Well, at least I’ll be able to tell when I’m on the right track. Ready to get rigged up?”

Her smile said yes.

I reached into my gear bag and pulled out a thick, 3-inch-high leather collar. “This should accessorize nicely with what’s in store for you.” I slipped behind her and buckled the apparatus snugly, but not tightly, around her neck. “Now for the rest of the gear.”

Another bag yielded a small mountain of leather straps -- short ones, long ones, medium ones -- all equipped with roller buckles. “See how the tongues on these buckles have holes in them, Sara? Those holes are for padlocks.”

I put my hands on her shoulders, pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “That’s right, Sara. Once you’re in these straps, there will be absolutely no chance at escape. None.”

Goosebumps ran riot over her body. Her breaths quickened, and she began to tremble.

“Having second thoughts?”

“No. Just excited. Very. Excited.”

Five minutes later, I stepped back to take in my handiwork. Sara’s small body lay before me, virtually encased in taut bands of black leather.

Four straps, all buckled tightly, crushed her wrists, forearms and elbows tightly together. Six more did the same for her ankles, calves and thighs. Four more, wrapped and buckled around her back and shins, kept her body folded her into a tight little ball. A black leather blindfold and a large black ballgag completed her “ensemble.” Small brass padlocks, inserted through every buckle and snapped shut, signaled to her that even if her limbs could move, she couldn’t free herself.

Her nostrils flared. Her toes curled. Her hands fluttered uselessly.

I whispered again into her ear. “You look phenomenal, Sara. The clock starts now. The locks come off in an hour…if I want them to.”

Goosebumps danced between the straps.

Reading the story, imagining the details and the situation Sara was going to be in, almost gave me goosebumps or at least a nice chill.
Thanks for continuing this story.

A Night Filled with Goosebumps (Part IV)
by OldTUGger
(M/F, consensual bondage, rated R)


In the grand scheme of things, an hour isn’t really a long time.

It can be, however, when you’re inescapably bound, gagged, blindfolded, and know you’re going to be stuck in the same position for that long.

To keep Sara from becoming impatient or bored as she lay there, ball-tied in tight leather straps, I did my best to keep her entertained by touching her from time to time.

Every touch seemed to elicit the same response -- a stippling of goosebumps on her petite, scantily clad body, or at least those parts that could be seen through a webwork of black leather straps.

For the most part, I rested my right hand her firm little bottom, massaging it gently whenever I wanted to get the goosebumps going. To keep that from getting monotonous, I interrupted those mini-massages with light slaps to that delectable derrière, feather-touch tickles to her ribs, or tiny flicks to her cute little toes.

When at last my cell phone’s alarm rang and its timer read 0:00, I began unlocking and unbuckling the straps that encircled Sara’s nearly immobile form -- first the ones that kept her in the ball-tie, then the ones around her wrists and forearms, and finally the ones around her ankles, calves and thighs.

As each set came off, she stretched languorously to restore blood flow and feeling.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked.

She cocked her head in my direction and pointed to her gag, still tightly padlocked at the nape of her slender neck.

“Oops.” I unlocked and unbuckled her gag and blindfold. “Well, how was it?”

“Loved it. Absolutely loved it,” she replied as she reached for her water bottle. “I’ve been tied up a fair amount, but I’ve never been as helpless as I was in those straps. The locks were a nice touch; they made me feel like the straps were permanent, not temporary. That was a huge turn-on.”

“I can see,” I said, pointing to the glaringly visible wet spot on her panties.

She blushed and grinned. “Well, I guess that gives me an excuse to get naked for the next tie,” she said, shucking off the panties and shedding her bra. “What do you have next for me? Make it a good one; I need to head for home before too long.”

“How about a little fifteen-minute predicament?” I asked.

“What kind of predicament?” When I told her, goosebumps danced a merry jig across her forearms. Eagerly, she laid face-down on the floor and placed her hands behind her back.

The tie didn’t take long to rig. I bound her wrists and elbows closely together, then turned her onto her side so I could enjoy the way the elbow-tie made her breasts stand out.

Working quickly, I frog-tied her legs, wrapping and cinching each quite tightly. Her old friend, the harness gag, came next.

“Now for this next step, I’m going to pick you up and lean you against the wall,” I said after buckling on the gag. “When I do that, don’t slouch or slump. Keep your back and neck as straight as you can.”

I leaned her there, face out, while I completed the rest of her ensemble.

First, I attached single clover clamps to each of her nipples, then ran short lengths of twine from the clamps to O-rings on each side of the harness gag, right to right and left to left. For the time being, I let the twine dangle there without tying it off.

Her crotch rope came next. I placed the bight of a doubled rope against her navel, ran the trailing ends around her waist, and threaded them through the bight. Pulling downward, I centered the rope between her labia and, after tipping her forward to lean into me, ran it up her back, pulled it tight -- tight enough to make her groan -- and knotted it off to the O-ring atop the gag’s harness.

“Here’s the deal, Sara,” I said. To relieve the pressure that crotch rope is placing on your girly bits, you’re going to have to tilt your head backward. That’s when the fun will begin.”

I reached down and, slowly, pulled tight the lengths of twine I’d strung through the gag’s side O-rings. As the cords came taut, the depth of Sara’s predicament dawned on her. She squealed as the twine stretched her tortured nipples upward toward her face.

“That’s right, Sara,” I murmured into her ear. “To relieve the pain in your breasts, you’ll have to tilt your head forward. To relieve the pain in your crotch, you’ll have to tilt it backward. Enjoy yourself.”

I sat back and watched the show.

At first, she continued to hold her body as straight as she could. Eventually, however, the pain in her breasts became too great, and she leaned her head forward for some relief.

“Eeph!” she squeaked as the crotch rope dug in deeply. When that position became intolerable, she leaned her head back. “Urggh!”

“This is great, Sara! Those sound effects are giving me goosebumps!” I chuckled.

I must say, my little FetLife date put on quite a show during those all-too-brief fifteen minutes. By the time the cell-phone alarm jangled, a sheen of sweat and a forest of goosebumps covered her trembling, pain-wracked, overstimulated body.

With paramedic shears, I snipped the crotch rope and the twine. She slumped like a marionette whose strings had been cut, but thankfully I was able to grab her before she hit the floor.

“That was really intense!” Sara said after I relieved her of the gag and undid her wrist and leg bindings. “I didn’t think I’d make the whole 15 minutes without safewording.”

“But you did,” I said, smiling. “I’m really impressed.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a quick hug for emphasis. “This has been a great evening.”

“Want to do it again sometime? I like watching your goosebumps dance.”

“Let me and my goosebumps recover from this one first. Send me a message on FetLife.” She paused, then gave me a wink. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

I looked down at her forearms. Yep, just as I expected. Goosebumps.

What a great and inventive story, I throughly enjoyed each and every chapter, would really like to see a follow up,