A Knotty Solution bondage story | knot, ground tied, bound

It started in my pre-teens. We had a large garden that was separated from a much larger woodland by a dense hedge. In one corner I discovered a gap in that hedge which, once inside, led to a tunnel along the inside and thence to a second opening out into the wood. I had my own private and secret way.

Frequent use however quickly destroyed the secrecy and a worn track began to appear. In an effort to preserve my domain I quickly learned how to avoid following the exact same track; to gently bend away, or bend down, branches or twigs that intruded but whose unbroken presence would help to obscure my activities. I discovered how to smooth over the ground and lightly scatter leaves so that, although I could never hope to fool one trained in the tracker's art, a casual observer would not learn of my secret.

In the course of years I became adept at other woodcraft and, long before I left full-time school at my sixteenth birthday, I had learned also how to move through the woods without disturbing the wildlife. I had long treasured a five-foot staff which I carried always. By setting it on the ground and leaning on it, I was able to stand perfectly still for minutes at a time and thus I spent many hours observing at close quarters - sometimes less than ten feet - up to twenty rabbits as they munched, listened, watched, played or courted around me. There was one magical moment when a rustling amongst the foliage above me ended as the leaves parted and the beautiful face of a red squirrel peered down at me. Ultimately I blinked and, during that short interval, the face vanished.

Walking the woods remains, even to this day, one of my greatest joys and I still carry that staff over my shoulder ready to plant it at a moment's notice. It was on one of those occasions, a Saturday afternoon just before my seventeenth birthday, that I came across the girl sitting on the ground with her back to me and clearly totally unaware of my approach.

I knew her at once. She was the object of adoration - more truthfully lust - of every male both attending school and long past such obligatory pastimes. But she would have none of us. Indeed I do truly believe that she derived more fun out of keeping them dangling rather than dallying. There were bigger, better-looking, more famous - not to mention infamous - lads around than I could ever hope to be and so I was never even in the running. She had never looked other than straight through little me.

Not so surprising then that my heart missed a beat as I recognised her; to come so unexpectedly upon this vision of heaven and just we two alone? I kidded me not; I lacked the courage to address her and was about to turn away in my noiseless fashion when I noticed the rope. She had two lengths of small rope - or would you call it thick cord? - one of which she had tied low down around a sapling. The other end had been taken around a second tree and brought back to where she sat.

In the middle she had tied a tomfool knot known otherwise as Boy Scout Handcuffs; handcuffs because that is what the knot looks like and tomfool because, if you pull on the tails, the knot simply disappears. When I came upon her she was adjusting a loop that she'd tied in the free end and I watched as she drew-up one foot and fitted that loop over it. Then she put both hands through the tomfool loops and, by straightening that leg, pulled the thing tight. Well - not quite tight but almost enough to emulate captivity.

So... I now shared a secret with little Yvonne... she fancied being tied up?

For a long while after I was to wonder at my temerity but, in truth, I didn't stop to think about it. There was the opportunity, I was in the right place at the right time, I was but a half-dozen of my noiseless steps behind her and opportunity, so I have always been assured, never knocks twice. Anyway... what did I have to lose? AND... there was an awful lot perhaps to gain.

I slid the pole off my shoulder, forward over her shoulder and straight through the loop stretched from her foot. I pushed as far forward as I could reach and then drove the end hard into the ground. Then, stepping past her, I carried the top of the pole even further forward so dragging the rope from her foot and providing the extra tension that was needed to complete her captivity.

I turned to look down on my victim just as she, recovered from her surprise, exploded: "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

"Seemed like you needed a hand."

"Well, I don't. Let go of that rope."

I leaned heavily on my pole. "You're not in a position to be rude even if it is your usual habit?"

"I'm not rude. And anyway I've never spoken to you before."

"True. But that's what I mean. You always behave as though I'm invisible."

"You mean you're not?"

I put my foot on the rope: "I do believe that you're going to spend the rest of the afternoon down there." I pulled out the pole and, taking the rope in both hands and maintaining the tension, I carried it around the tree. With a second turn crossed over the first I tied it off with a final half-hitch around the tree to leave her in something of a fix called a Rolling Hitch. A knot that will hold so well against a steady pull that sailors used it to sling their hammocks.

"You can't do this! Untie me at once."

"What you really need is a lesson in how to tie knots. That's a silly knot you've used there. Let me show you the proper handcuff knot. Not only will it not unknot - if you get my meaning? - but it is also self-locking."

This time she remained silent; had I got her attention? I picked up her second rope from the ground, middled it and proceeded to fashion a handcuff knot. By the time it was ready and I had tightened down the body, she had struggled up on to her knees. I bent down in front of her, slipped the loops over her wrists so helplessly pointing at me and pulled gently on the ends.

"We won't need this now," and I untied her original binding, pulled the knot loose and removed it completely. For a few moments she eyed my effort curiously and then, with a suspicion of contempt, she pulled; her eyebrows signified surprise when she found that it did not yield as undoubtedly would her tomfool variety. I enjoyed her efforts for a couple of minutes and then decided to go all the way.

"Of course, if you worry it for long enough and especially if you use your teeth, it will slowly loosen... but that is easily dealt with." I took the loose ends, pulled to snug the knot around those slim wrists, stepped behind her, pulled them around her waist and tied them together. It was then that the enormity of my action hit me and a wave of heat flushed over me as I looked on her kneeling there... her hands inescapably bound to her waist.

For several more minutes she continued to examine her predicament and experimentally pulled against the restriction. At last she looked up: "If nothing else I must grant that you know something about tying knots. Do you do this sort of thing for a living or is it just a hobby?"

"Oh. It's strictly for very good looking girls." What the devil had got into me?

"Will you show me how to tie that, please?"

"With pleasure." I untied the first rope from where it still adorned the tree and brought it to her. I middled it and showed, in slow motion, the process right up to the matter of pulling down the central coils. "Now," I said, "we can prove that it works by..."

Now behind her again I slipped the knot over her ankles and drew it closed. Unwisely she tried to stand forgetting, or not realising, that her feet now refused to part from each other. She fell backward into my arms; I braced myself for the expected tirade but... instead came, "Are you one of those people who have to tie a girl before you can get her to cuddle?"

"So far," I commented, "it's been the only way that has worked with you."

To my very great surprise she laughed, a long undulating chuckle that must surely indicate that she wasn't afraid of me but was enjoying the encounter. This wasn't at all the girl that for long I had watched and coveted from afar and here she was lying in my arms.

"You enjoy being bound?"

"Um... yes. Truthfully... I do... but this is the first time anyone has done it to me for real."

"Want to push it a bit further? Only too willing to oblige."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I could... I'll demonstrate." I rolled her off my lap and turned her face down. I pulled home that knot about her ankles, fixed it by tying the ends together and then pulled one of them fairly tightly through the rope around her waist and tied off ; which left her in a sort of semi-hogtie. "You can boast yourself pretty good if you can escape from that."

Five minutes later she panted, "It's not fair. You've obviously been practising."

"Well... I hadn't the slightest idea that the result could be anything like that."

For a moment she looked puzzled and then abruptly she coloured. She dropped her eyes and then, softly: "Will you untie me now... please?"

"When I stop to think about it... that's some request."

"Eh! "

"Well... I've wanted to get to know you for a long time. Now here you are... just the two of us alone... and to coin a phrase... you would seem to be entirely in my power. Would it be really sensible of me to turn you loose?"

"You could have a problem with a policeman."

"True indeed. But not until AFTER I do the untying bit."

It appeared that she did not fear me. On the other hand perhaps she had a naive belief in law and order. Perhaps again there was something about me that engendered trust? Bighead. It was also possible - more than possible - that she simply liked being held captive? It could be tested if I was willing to push my luck.

"So. When will that be?"

"Er... what do you mean?" She had cut across my train of thought and I had not the slightest idea.

"When can I expect you to untie me?"

"Oh, that. I could keep you to myself over the weekend?"

"But I'd be missed."

"Does anyone know where you are? Where to start looking?"

"That's a good point," she conceded; "But you won't really keep me tied up... will you?"

"I suspect you'd like me too. You're enjoying this aren't you?"

Her face was growing very red but that could have been because she was struggling to free herself. "You've done a good job. I don't believe I CAN get away. Yes; as a matter of fact I AM enjoying the sensation. It's not the same when you try to tie yourself."

"Then it's decided. I keep you. There's one more thing." I took the clean handkerchief from my left-hand trouser pocket and removed my belt. It was a fair-sized man's hanky and, when wrapped around the belt, proved to be just the right size to go into that enticing mouth. The belt went around twice before I threaded the buckle and drew up the slack. It certainly didn't silence her but it rendered conversation, and further requests, a thing of the past.

"Now," I said and I hoped that I was keeping the excitement out of my voice: "The maiden is caught and all that remains is to carry her off to market."

She wasn't very heavy and I easily hoisted her, bound as she was, across my shoulders and headed off. I steadied her with one hand and carried that now valuable staff in the other. The rest of that afternoon is lost to memory or, rather, buried under a heap of many others. I do remember my first taste of her twisting and wriggling in the grass as she tried to slip my bonds, of releasing the hogtie and making her part of a tree, of escorting her safely home and, finally, that very last possible moment when finally I released her hands.

Unbelievably she kept the promise to be at the same place at the same time the next weekend ... and many other occasions too. Yes, she really liked being held helpless and strictly under control. Most of all I remember the looks of disbelief that followed us when first I took her dancing. That was to happen many times too but my most cherished memory is of the opinion I once held of her until I had the luck to surprise her in the woods and found the courage to turn her into a most delectable bound and gagged beauty. But she has always been my damsel NOT in distress.