"Is that too tight? Does it pinch anywhere?"

It was tight, actually. Very tight. But that's the way I want it, so I just shook my head. I tried a brief struggle and immediately felt a relentless hug squeezing the breath out of my lungs. Geez, this little dweeb was good. I was not going anywhere, and it felt like the butterflies in my stomach was wrapped in cocoons and doing bungy jumps.

Don't get me wrong. If I was a butterfly, the guy with the deft fingers tightening the knots was absolutely a worm. A real maggot, who I wouldn't be caught dead with in public. He didn't reach higher than my boobs for one, and his greasy hair and acne basically made him a lost cause. Poor too. Those clothes were definitely hand-me-downs. The group chat I had with my girl squad loved to roast him, especially after he had made this really nervous wave at me when my squad was strutting down the hallway yesterday. I had joined in of course. That idiot weirdo, was he trying to get us exposed? Luckily, one of us has social skills, and I quelled any chance of a rumor then and there. Even if I had to write some mean things. Like, really mean. Like, him being most likely to end up with a van abducting people. Like, that was the only way he would ever get any. I mean, what was he thinking, waving at me in public!?

So, what was I doing in this kindergarten storage shed, being tied up by this greasy working class weirdo? Well, for some reason or another, I've always liked the feeling of being restrained. Like, really helpless. It's not befitting, and if anyone in the girl squad found out I'd be ostracized so far, I wouldn't be able to see them with a telescope. Like Wendy. She had gotten drunk on ciders last year and made out with some nerd and since then, it was like she didn't exist. A ghost. But for some reason, the chance of being tied up made me willing to risk just about anything.

The thing is, this little dweeb and I used to do this a lot. When we were like five years old. Right here in the storage shed, actually. Of course, he wasn't as skilled back then and I almost always got free in a hot minute, but I loved goading and teasing him, dreaming of someday having to eat those words as he got me wrapped up good enough that I would be stuck for real. Sometimes I pretended I couldn’t get free, and the smile on his face looked like it would split his head wide open.

All these years later, I was getting my wish. For some weeks now. Tied up in this old shed, by those same old jumping ropes we used back then. The code for the padlock on the door hadn't changed, and almost no one came here on Sundays.  I had taken the first step, of course. Not like he would have dared, skulking around the hallways with his hood up. I texted him. And we started to chat. He was all hedgehog at first. Probably thought I was setting him up for some prank. That would have been fun of course, but I had a better use for him. He was the one guy who knew about this weird quirk of mine, and if he told anyone... lol, who'd believe him? And he would lose access to me. I'm hot. He's not. That means I'm on top.

"Not getting out of this one, it seems?”

I shot him a mock glare. I enjoyed being defiant almost as much as I loved being helpless.

"Are you sure you want me to add the stuff we texted about?"

I sighed. He was always way too careful. It broke the illusion a bit.

"Just do your worst, or I'll scream so loud the whole town will come!"

Yeah, right, like I would. And be caught seen with him.

He had tied me to a rack in the back of the shed this time. Sitting down and facing the door. My arms, wrists and torso were welded to the sturdy bars along the wall. Every foot or so of those bars had a solid hook, meant for playground stuff like plastic shovels, buckets and the like. They made for excellent anchoring points and now I could feel a rope snaking it's way around my throat. He had been really hesitant about this. Going on and on about how dangerous it could be. Holy hell he was boring sometimes. But I convinced him. I always do. My dream was actually for him to leave me like this. Abandon me. Just for a bit. But he always refused. So, I used that to get him to agree to this instead. Just a gentle squeezing choke. As he anchored the rope to the hooks on both sides of my neck, my hands tried to reach up and relieve the pressure. Pure instinct. No way though. Best I could do was flutter my fingers uselessly. Oh my god, I could feel the ropes as I swallowed.

Our eyes met for just an instant. I could see he was worried, so I stuck out my tongue and he almost rolled his eyes.

"Guess I need to find something to gag you with", he said. Not entirely the script I'd told him to follow, but close enough. Maybe he needed a bit more encouragement?

"You wouldn't dare", I answered as I spread my legs, giving him a generous view up my skirt. We had never gone this far before.

But he dared. He actually did. Moments later, he had removed my panties through my fake attempts at stopping him and, without missing a beat, shoved them into my mouth. Just as swiftly, he produced a thick roll of silver duct tape from his backpack and plastered three wide pieces over my lips, from ear to ear.

I'm always a bit conflicted about being gagged. On one hand, it makes me hot and bothered as nothing else. Like, it's such a layer of helplessness. You give up so much by getting your words taken from you. In a way, it's like I cease being me, and suddenly become... a thing. On the other hand, I really prefer being able to speak. To influence people. Him. It's almost too big a price to pay.

That's why I haven't told him that just a couple of strips of tape isn't really enough to gag someone for real. If I wanted, I could eventually get this tape off, spit my panties out, and say whatever I wished. This is the perfect compromise. I can play pretend for as long as I wish, while still having perfect control.

He took a step back, as if taking in the view. I decided to give him a bit of a show, struggling and making squealing mmphs. Couldn't do much with my upper body though, especially with that rope around my neck. I'm so glad he did it. It was actually making me lightheaded with excitement. I made sure not to spread my legs to wide, of course. My soft butt cheeks against the hard concrete were a constant reminder that, except for my short skirt, I was entirely exposed down there. And I wasn't about to show him that much.

Seriously. For a guy who was such a dweeb, he was... maybe not so bad. A bit short, sure, but maybe he was just due for a growth spurt? Some guys bloomed really late. As I probed and prodded against his tight wraps and fluttered my fingers trying to reach unreachable knots, I felt a sudden wish to do more. Like, really get to know him.

And that's when disaster struck.

I had left my phone laying on my purse as we got prepared. Screen up. And now there were messages showing. From my, very, static position, I couldn't see anymore, but I saw his eyes glance at the screen. And do a double take.

"WTF?"

He actually said it like that. Pronouncing the letters.

He picked the phone up. And showed it to me. It was the Group Chat. And the message mentioned him by name. I felt a chill cartwheeling down my spine. He could not be allowed to know what was in that chat. I had to say something. Convince him. I feverishly started to work my lips loose from the adhesive of the tape as more messages appeared. In just seconds, I felt the seal covering my mouth swing to the side, dangling from my right cheek. That was quickly revealed to be a huge mistake.

As my face came into full view of the phone's camera, the facial recognition kicked in. And as I spat out the soggy wad from my mouth, the phone unlocked with an audible click.

"Please, don't re-" I started, but his hand shot up, re-sealing my mouth with the tape and keeping his palm over my lips, covering my protests. I tried to shake it away as I saw him scroll through the chat, but he was firm, and the rope wrapped around my neck made it impossible to make anything more than pathetic little jerks. He was a quick reader, and I could see his face grow cold. Cold and dark.

I mewled and squealed under his hand as he put the phone down and picked up the wad of panties.

"You'll get one shot at apologizing", he said with an eerie calm. "I suggest you make it a good one."

What was I going to say? My mind was racing. But I could do this. Just pour on the charm really thickly. Maybe offer him... anything? Yes. Anything he wished for. That had to be enough. Someone like me. Normally, someone like him could never even hope to dream of someone like me throwing herself at his feet. I would have, literally, if I wasn't helplessly tied to the wall. As I felt his grip of my mouth loosen, I made my move.

"I’m-!"

That's how far I got, before my wet panties once again slid back past my lips. He had tricked me into opening my mouth!

"How stupid do you think I am?" he asked as he ripped off the old tape and applied a fresh seal. This time, however, he didn't rip any pieces off. Instead, he wrapped the tape tightly all the way around my head, covering my hair. And then he just kept going, every wrap over my mouth tighter than the last. I pleaded with him to hear me out, but there was nothing I could do to stop him. With a sense of panic, I realized that I would not be able to say a word unless he decided I was allowed to. Under all this tape, I was reduced to grunts and yips.

Against my struggles my legs were spread, a rope tied around each ankle. Was he always this strong? Was I always this easy to handle? Through the hooks placed at the same height as my head he hoisted my legs up until they resembled a big V. To my horror, I realized my skirt no longer did any decent work at covering me. Through my heightened senses, I could feel the air. What was he going to do to me? He had to understand, right? That I wrote what I did to protect us. To protect him! That's why I had to be such an asshole.

He took a step back. Looking me over. I've never felt so exposed. But it got worse. Slowly, he picked up my phone. Was it still unlocked? I couldn't see, and I couldn't ask. The only thing I could do was sit here, with my feet in the air as he started to take pictures. Why was he taking pictures with my phone? Shouldn't he be using his own? Then he seemed to be writing something.

"In thirty seconds, I'm sending some photos to that group chat of yours", he said. My mind went red. Panic red. No! No! He wouldn't. I started struggling like I'd never struggled before. I had to get free. I had to stop him. The wood behind me creaked. I would tear those racks out, screws, bolts and all. I yelled at him. Pleading with my eyes for him to not do it. To release me. Free me. Anything, but push that send button.

Thirty long seconds later, I was completely out of breath, but just as tied up as before. He could have given me an hour. A day. It would make no difference. I was at his complete mercy.

And then, there was a sound of a message being sent. I couldn't even slump my head in defeat, with the constricting ropes around my neck.

He approached. Squatted until our eyes were level.

"I sent them information on where to find you", he said. "I'm sure they are smart enough to find you. And kind enough to let you free. They seem to be such kind friends, after all."

My labored breath made my nose flare. Even now I couldn't help but consider how undignified I must look. How pathetic. Did I really want the girl squad to find me like this? They would laugh their asses off. They would mock me. Would they even free me? I would become the next Wendy. Why the hell did I choose such lousy friends? I looked at him. The guy I had hurt. I loaded my eyes with as much "I'm sorry" as i possibly could. Just pure, unadulterated shame.

For a moment, I saw something. A glimmer. At least I think I did. Then he tore of a final piece of duct tape and plastered it over my eyes. I froze up. Losing my sight was like a switch being flicked in my brain. It was the last of my control. Was he leaving? Really? Anyone could come. Some dog-walker or whatever? Some hobo looking for a place to rest? And they would find me, beautifully displayed like some plated dish at a restaurant. And I wouldn't be able to do anything.

I heard footsteps. Growing fainter. I heard a door open. And then close.

Silence.

I struggled softly, just to keep myself occupied. Tried to push my soaked panties out through the unyielding seal over my mouth. My legs were aching. My butt itched against the concrete floor. I tried to move away from a small sharp rock that seemed to mock my predicament. I soon noticed I had to keep still. If I moved to much, the ropes around my neck grew tight and I would be forced to lean back and relax. Unless someone came, I was stuck here forever, and yet I didn't want anyone to find me. Why did I have to write those horrible things? Why did I have to hurt him? I was a horrible person. I deserved this.

---

As I look at her, I have to fight myself not to rush over and free her. That look she gave me right before I blindfolded her was almost enough to make me drop the whole charade. Almost. But I still pretended to walk out. By the way she's acting, she fell for it hook, line and sinker. She's clever. Much cleverer than her public routine lets on. But not as clever as she thinks.

Those things she wrote about me were nasty. They hurt. And they might have made me pull that tape a bit tighter around her mouth than I had meant. If I wasn't so caught up in it, I would never have dared to do that stuff to her legs. What she wrote was nasty, but I also get it. I shouldn't have waved at her. It happened before I had time to think and as soon as I saw her freeze for an instant, I realized how reckless it was. She was probably attempting damage control.

But honestly, she deserves a bit of a lesson. She's been nagging me for weeks about leaving her while she's tied up. And with a rope around her neck no less. It's fucking dangerous. You can die. But she's so reckless. When she wants something it's full steam ahead. She was like that in kindergarten, and it hasn't changed. It's not all bad, though. Without her initiative, I would never have dared to text her. I would just have kept watching and fantasizing, like a loser. But she needs to take care of herself better. It's not worth it if you get yourself hurt. Or worse. Right?

I'm not sure how she'll react. She'll probably be really mad. Hopefully, it'll help when I show her the photos were actually taken using the front-facing camera. The only thing on them is my ugly face. And, of course, I didn't send them to the nasty people in her group chat. I sent them to myself. Luckily, my phone was on Silent Mode. That sure would have spoiled the whole thing.

Part of me wants to rush over to her this very instant. God, she's so beautiful like this. Entirely in her own little world. Her cute little struggles and the way she wiggles her butt trying to find some comfort.

I'll look at her just a little bit longer.

Just a little bit longer…