Taking The Waters bondage story | rope tied, ball gag

Tasmin was indeed a fine girl. Just eighteen, she had all the attributes expected of the ideal 1950's woman. A fine breadth of shoulder above a bust that was more than noticeable yet not by any means oversize. Her body tapered down to a slim waist and then flared again over broad hips finally to taper down to the slim and most watchable ankles that ever flaunted a pair of dainty feet.

Up top her extraordinary thatch of waist-length bronze-coloured hair did its best to obscure two green eyes whose gaze ever sought a means to create mischief in the peaceable world around her. In short - she was regrettably - a PEST. She demanded attention and was ever determined to be the centre of it. The world entreated her, most earnestly, to grow up but it all fell on deaf ears as she careered blithely along her endless path of practical jokes and other divertissements.

When first she came into our sphere I made the mistake of finding her desirable and made a play for her. But, as my ardour cooled, so it seemed hers increased until I felt that, even to venture out of doors, I needed an escort of musketeers. That was why, on that Saturday morning, I was abroad early and was returning home at 6.45 am when the sky seemed to fall on me from the tree canopy above.

I fell to my knees under the onslaught as a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around my neck. It took but a second or so however to recognise the distinctive scent that followed Tasmin; I reached up and over my head, secured two handfuls of luxuriant hair and hurled myself backward. Body-weight will always speak louder than advantages but not so loud as that 'OUF' which signifies the sudden expulsion of breath. I slipped off that soft body, rolled it sideways and promptly sat down astride her buttocks and proceeded to fold her arms across her back.

I don't really know what prompted me in what followed and certainly it wasn't planned but I suppose it could be said that I had had enough from this young lady. I moved forward so that I could place a knee on each of her elbows and that allowed me to hold her hands captive with just my left. With my right, I unbuckled my belt and used it to bind those hands tightly together in the small of her back.

"Let me go!" she squealed. "You can't do this. I don't WAN'T to be tied up."

"At the moment," I replied sourly, "it doesn't matter a great deal what you want. I'm fed up with your nonsense."

Satisfied that her hands were secure I lifted my weight and rolled her on to her back where her own weight helped to trap her arms. Unrepentant, and determined to be in control, she adopted a stern school-mistress-like stance: "You'd better untie me at once. You could go to prison. Not by any stretch of the imagination do you have my permission for this."

"Little lady, you pay no heed whatever to other people's wishes so why the hell should I listen to yours. You made an unprovoked attack on my person, you've come off the worst and now you want to cry foul?"

"It will be my word against yours. I'm younger and I'm a girl... you can't win!" The triumph rang loud and clear in her voice.

"There's one thing you've overlooked? I don't give a damn about the law. We both know the truth. Even if I go to prison it won't undo the lesson you're about to receive."

Did I imagine it or did some doubt dawn in that inventive mind? She changed her tune: "All right. I'm sorry. Let me go and I'll be good from now on."

"But what value can I place on your word? I don't believe for a minute that you could keep a promise for a second. What you need is a cooling off period. Nothing can beat a cold bath for that purpose."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wanna bet? Let's hear your stake."

For the first time ever she was silent. I hauled Tasmin to her feet, gripped her by each elbow and marched her the fifty yards to our garden gate. Inside I veered to the right and steered her to the garden shed. Just inside the door I knew lay the hank of cord we had used to ensure a straight line while re-marking the tennis court. As soon as she saw it she erupted into furious fight. "No!"

"Yes," and I tripped her. Sitting on her backside I dropped the end of the rope under Tasmin's ankles and bound them together. Pulling a second bight under her knees I worked it up to her thighs and soon had her legs bent back with the ankles firmly tied to her thighs. Next the rope went up to Tasmin's right elbow where I made several turns around her upper arm and knotted it. Across to the left arm and her elbows were bound at a limited distance apart. Again I dropped a bight, this time over her head, and when I had tied it back to her right elbow whence it had started her upper arms were part of her body.

Now I recovered my belt and used the rest of the rope to tie her hands, wrists crossed with fingers pointing upwards. Finally I dipped it under her left armpit, up across the shoulder, around the back of her neck and down under the other arm to leave dear little Tasmin with practically nothing to waggle except her fingers and her tongue.

We used to have a dog who was wise in the ways of bitches and the calendar and we were obliged to keep him on a tether. To that end we obtained a screw-picket which, since his death, had leaned in the corner of the shed. I collected it and took it, with a short crowbar, to the centre of the lawn where I screwed it deep into the good earth. Then I returned to the blasphemous and struggling Tasmin, carried her to the picket and anchored her there in a kneeling hogtie.

I consoled myself with an avuncular pat on her head, crossed to the sunken control point and turned on the water supply to the sprinklers. I was rewarded by a shriek, which grew louder as the water began to run cold. There was little she could do about it - correction, there was NOTHING she could do about it - and I watched for a few minutes as she struggled in vain. However, not wishing to become a voyeur, I took myself inside.

I was more than a little surprised when I looked out of the window to see that the water sprays had stopped. There, marching resolutely across the lawn, was Mrs. McGregor, the formidable housekeeper to our neighbour. "Oh, damn." I could see trouble coming in spades.

To my surprise Mrs. M went behind my prisoner, reached over Tasmin's shoulder and pinched her nose. As the girl made the obvious response she crammed a dun-coloured ball-gag into her mouth and proceeded to buckle it very tightly behind her head. I heard her voice clearly as she scolded Tasmin about the quality of her god-forsaken language. If that was the best use the girl could find for the tongue the good Lord had given her than it was best she should be without.

I watched, stupefied, as the dame marched back to the tap and restored the water. Then she crossed to the house and sat down on the steps. I ventured outside if only because I felt that I had to make my presence known.

"I thought y' had to have more sense than t'leave the lass alone like that. Good for y' lad. 'Twould be better I fancy if I watch her ... but perhaps ye'd be good enough to mak' some coffee?"

Coffee I had made before I left the house and it had been left on the hot plate. Hence I was back in record time with a coffeepot, jug of warm milk and a tin of Mixed biscuits.

"Ye're a real treasure laddie." She nibbled on a biscuit: "Why on earth did y'take so long to deal with yon lassie?"

"I suppose I just took it as a judgement on me. Until she dropped on me this morning out of the trees. I just saw red. But ... Mrs. Mac ... how come you, of all people, come to possess a ball-gag?"

"I wasn't always an old hag, y'know." I swear there was a twinkle in the corners of her eyes as she hastily looked away. "But I'll tell y'laddie, one treatment'll not do the job. Now, when she calms down a bit, ye go out there and take out the gag. She'll be contrite but it willna last. Take my word for it. You demand a promise ... an' then put the gag back in... Make it tight... and turn on that water again."

"But ... Mrs. Mac ... that's hardly the ... I mean ... if she gives a promise ... ?"

"She's got t' accept that this is just the first round she's lost and there can be others. Believe me laddie ... I know." She turned suddenly to look me full in the face and there was a grin ... I could never describe it.

"Are you telling me...?"

"Aye lad. It happened to me just the same. I came to believe m'hubbie a milksop. When I went that wee bit too far he brought home that wood ball ... one of his fishermen friends na doubt ... and spent nigh an hour at the kitchen table boring a wee hole through it and threadin' it on that very same strap. Then he laid it on the table and came behind me. Pulled m'arms back and tied me much the same as y'have tied yon lassie. An' in the bargain he put the ball in my mouth, laid me across his knee and tanned my backside until ... aah ... I can still feel it."

Her voice dropped to a soft murmur as she so obviously began to reminisce: "He kept me tied up for two days then he just loosed me and never said a word about it. I've kept the ball in a special place ever since that day after I unbuckled it and took it out. Aye, he never treated me like a servant but I always knew after that... he deserved respect. That was all he demanded. Time to go," and she pointed to where Tasmin had given up the struggle with her ropes and knelt bedraggled and forlorn.

"Remember laddie, don' give in. That one'll not be finished by a long shot. An' ye'll get but this one chance."

I turned off the water and crossed to where a decidedly subdued damsel gazed helplessly up at me with glowing green eyes. The body said she had given in; the eyes told a very different story. It would take a lot more than a few drops of cold water to quell this rebellious spirit.

I heeded the experience of Mrs. M, unbuckled the gag but dropped it to hang around her neck. "Well? Ready to see reason? You've been a frightful pest and now it's got to stop."

For those few seconds the telltale eyes blazed out at me then fell demurely: "OK. I'm sorry. What do you want me to do?"

"You know full well what I want - and what everybody else wants - you to do."

"I'm not to blame if you can't take a joke. This joke has gone far enough so... please... let me up. Please."

I was on the point of relenting. After all she had such beautiful eyes... and from out of nowhere, I heard that warning in its Scots accent: "Get your promise and then put the gag back in..."

"OK," I said decisively. "Let's get this over with then. Phase two coming up." I rammed the ball back between her teeth and re-buckled it behind. And Mrs. M showed her worth as Tasmin erupted in a furious burst of energy and none could have doubted the torrent of words that were heating-up that well-worn gag.

I turned the water back on and watched the evident fury of the frustrated girl. After all, I recalled, she's not used to losing. Mrs. M had departed and so I had to keep my own watch on my prisoner while I prepared for phase three. It took at least ten minutes to gather the gear and transport it to the pool and by that time Tasmin had once again given up the physical struggle. After its long acquaintance with water I reckoned that only a knife would get her out of those bindings and Mrs. M had given me the determination that, having got so far, I was going to be the ultimate winner. I think too that, by that time, I was beginning to feel that the struggle would be worthwhile. I carried a conviction that Mrs. M thought so, anyway.

I turned off the water and unbuckled the gag: "I expect it's a daft question but do you want a drink of anything?"

"You have to be joking. You sadistic bastard! Just let me..." I shoved the gag back once more ... wait! Did I detect a tinge of fear? No, this girl was not to be terrorised but I knew that she was beginning to get the message that control was mine. She had no say whatever in what was happening - or in what might happen from then on. While she remained tied - she was mine! While she was mine she remained tied.

I freed Tasmin from the stake and released the hog-tie but left her arms bound in their harness and her legs tied together. I would have preferred to carry her in my arms but, to emphasise her present position in the world, I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her like a sack of beans. In for a penny...?

I laid her down at the poolside; "I know that you are a good swimmer? I propose that you try taking the waters my way. Naughty girls should spend time in isolation." For the first time she showed real alarm as I attached the fifty-six pound weight to her ankle-bindings on the end of the eight feet of rope. The pool I knew was seven foot deep at that point and the rope was long enough to anchor Tasmin without drowning her.

Next came the old-fashioned life jacket; front and back panels tied together under the arms. I made sure that it was well tied down under her crotch else it could easily invert her. The long rope I attached to the weight and then lowered her over the side into the water followed by the weight. I carried the end of the long rope around to the other side of the pool and proceeded to drag the weight out into the pool centre; willy-nilly, she floated out after it.

I secured my end of the rope to the pool ladder and waved goodbye. Oh dear... she looked very lonely indeed as she floated there helplessly... a black blob in the middle of an expanse of water. Mrs. M had said two days; I knew that I couldn't take so long and I was betting that this treatment would short-circuit the proceedings.

I left her for fifteen minutes while once again she struggled for freedom but now the water was adding to her difficulties. As she struggled, so she dunked herself. I changed into my trunks and swam out to her. Unbuckling the gag I left it hanging around her neck: "High time this came out," I said; "but give me any more Trouble and I'll replace it with a frog."

Her eyes swelled and she drew in an enormous breath; then she slowly expelled it. She was right, of course, I never would carry out that threat but she was not in a position to risk it. Submit or else...? She submitted.

I swam back and made some more coffee. I swam back to her with a beaker half-filled with the stuff. At first she stiffened then, with a softly muttered "Thank you", she accepted it. I wasn't terribly surprised that she didn't mount a plea for release but then ... such a request would not have been unreasonable?

At the end of two hours I noticed that she was getting a slight bluish tinge in the side of her nostrils. I paddled around behind and there was the tell-tale sign on her ears that hypothermia was in its early stages. Still she remained silent – she was not going to make the first overtures! I dived and untied the weight from her ankles; leaving it to be salvaged later I towed her in. She said never a word.

This time I carried her in my arms but at the kitchen door, we ran into Mrs. M armed with a hot bath towel which she had just retrieved from the top of our AGA. A real treasure that old lady! As I laid Tasmin on the mattress which had been readied there that old dragon - as you called her - whispered in my ear: "Well done, laddie. Now... SCRAM!"

That's why we both think so highly of the old battleaxe.