Kate gets creative

"Oh? This is fun," yelped Della as she allowed herself to be flipped about by Kate. "Kitty's flexing her claws," she added as Kate wrapped the hanging restraints around her ankles. "Just make sure there's still a way for me to escape,"

"Don't worry," Kate responded, matching Della's playful smile as she secured each knee with the self-adhering tape. Kate's own tape had been temporarily shed from her mouth so she could better co-ordinate with Della. "I'll be sure to tell you every detail you missed while I'm gloating about my victory." Binding Della's knees to the top of the chair back seemed excessive with her ankles already locked to the door harness, but Kate wasn't taking chances.

"Hah, unlikely," Della smacked back, while Kate lowered to her knees. Hopping on one foot was well and good for wrapping the tape, but Kate needed a more stable platform to properly tie knots. She bound her captive's wrist to the chair leg with multiple coils of rope. "I'm going to hop out of this in two shakes of a bunny's leg, and make you spend the next two days tying me up just right."

The final touch was the ballgag harness. It was the typical red rubber-ball and leather head-cage that was trotted out anytime a movie wanted to show someone as particularly naughty, except this one had a chain and cuffs that dangled down the victim's back. These were probably meant for the wrists, but with some adjustments they circled snuggly around Della's athletic thighs.

Grinning, Kate inspected her handiwork. The chain, which went from the nape of her victim's neck, under the seat, and to her thighs, was the perfect fall back in case Della had delusions about escaping first. Her friend was mumbling ever increasing protests, probably saying something about it not being fair, but Kate simply smiled back. "Hold any quibbles until after I've won, bestie. It helps to have an excuse when you get trounced."

Cockily, she strutted on her knees to the chair that Della had prepared. She'd be tied just as tight in a matter of minutes, just as soon as Della told her what to do. "Oh." The blush prickled painfully on her cheeks. She couldn't really understand what Della was saying, but based on the tone and a few of the stressed syllables, she could guess at the rant her cohort in crime was unloading. "Hey, that's not fair. My brain doesn't have one bit of mildew, and this is far from the dumbest thing I've done. Remember ransoming Ms. Wilson's clay dog?"

Della's giggling sounded like someone sawing wet wood.

The bondage expert was surprisingly good at enunciating around the rubber lump stretching her jaw, or at least Kate knew her friend well enough to understand most of what she was saying. There were two silken loops near the front of her seat that she slid her feet into before tightening them until the rope gently bit her ankles. "Good enough?" she said her own breath coming out in gasps. Her legs were spread and her knees almost level with her eyes; the position made her feel very open.

"Mm-muh," said Della with a hesitant nod.

This probably wasn't what the other woman had in mind, but Kate tugged against her ankle bindings. "They're snug," she said aloud, "they'll hold." She looked over her shoulder, wary of the many hungry maws of rope. "Just slide my hands through this macrame mitten, then let the weight fall?" Della nodded. "Easier said than done," mumbled Kate as she re-wrapped her mouth in tape. Nervously, she clapped her palms together and snaked them through the yawning tangle.

Yet soon enough she felt the unyielding embrace of rope against her wrists and arms. A knot, not of fear, but of... something else settled in her lower belly. She drew in a slow steady breath in a futile attempt to stifle it, then tugged the cord attached to the dumbbell.

It was like being struck by lightning. The ropes tightened around her arms, and a bolt of... whatever it was caused her muscles to tighten. Her breath snagged halfway down her throat; her fingers tightened into powerless fists, and her legs flinched against the ropes. The helplessness spread across her skin like fire over paper.

But she wasn't entirely without hope; supposedly there was a way to slip her bonds. "Ready?" inquired Della through her gag, the subtle yearning of her tone echoing Kate's own desires.

Kate nodded.

Their race began in an instant. Della bucked and thrust at her bonds. Her gag made her grunts sound impotent, each tug of her wrists caused the firm leather to dig into her lips. Kate watched pensively, trying to strategize her own escape attempt. But her cautious testing of her bonds eventually gave way to equally wild wiggling. A thrill pulsed into her heart and oozed through her body each time her tugging was met with the stoic stubbornness of her bindings.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Della twist her torso up aiming for her ankle cuffs. Kate tried not to stare at her friend's pert, jiggling breasts. Della's left hand seemed to be slipping; it'd be free soon enough. Taking inspiration, Kate slid up, rubbing her rear against the back of the chair. Her own breasts tugged against her loose shirt and pointed skyward as she arched her back over the chair to better move her bound hands. The intricately woven armbinder held firm, but with effort her groping fingers could reach other strands of ropes. The stern hemp bit into her flesh in numerous places as she bent her body to its limit.

Her eyes closed and a cool smile of satisfaction curled her lips as her fingers found a loose knot. The ropes creaked; Kate eked out every bit of slack they had. Her breath came out in halting, strained grunts. The knot gave a little more, and she persisted. Finally the tangle came loose, running out in faster growing loops until it collapsed completely. With this release large hoops of rope went slack and tumbled away completely, Unfortunately, they were the unused sections that Kate had failed to trap her thighs in.

Still just as bound, Kate plopped back into the seat with a frustrated huff. Della's ball-muted laughter made her situation all the more annoying. She couldn't count on a hidden slip of the knot if she'd tied herself up wrong. Kate looked at her gagged friend. Della had burst her tape mittens. She was now working on her own knots with more success; they were unskilled attempts by Kate after all.

Don't spiral, Kate told herself, just find a different strategy. Her eyes dashed around the living room for inspiration. Twisting in her chair she settled her gaze on the kitchen. It was a long way away (especially for someone bound as securely as she was) but there had to be scissors in one of those drawers. Plan set, she began rocking her weight, side to side at first to turn her chair, then back and forth to shuffle onward.

Head bowed and hips thrusting, Kate dared a look at her opponent. Surprisingly, Della hadn't managed to untie the ropes holding her wrists yet, but she'd somehow managed to squeeze one foot from the rigid shackles. Her other leg was still extended high above her, but her free leg was displaying some impressive acrobatics. Doing some sort of invented high kick her toes stretched to try to reach the knots around her wrists. When that didn't work, she swung her leg behind her, arching her back in a ballet curl, to put her dexterous foot under her seat.

Kate didn't dare keep staring to see if that feat of flexible feet would work. She doubted her knots could be untied by Della's toes, but her bound best friend would figure something out soon. She bent forward against her bonds and raised her arms what little she could. The bite of the ropes was an odd mix of discomfort and comfort. A slow hiss was thrumbing from her lips as Kate managed to tug the kitchen drawer open. Raising her hands to rummage through the drawer took that much more effort. The ropes were gentle, but still abrasive. Kate wondered if they'd leave marks. Would her pale skin bear the criss-crossing pattern of her adventure for the next couple days?

No, was the answer, as her fingers grazed the scissors' handle, because she was going to win this and get a whole host of new bondage.

The ropes bit with new intensity when Kate yanked the scissors up. The knots were like river pebbles, smooth, enduring, sensual. She gasped mid retrieval-leap and the scissors tumbled from her fingers.

Kate's angry curses came out in a low mumbling moan as she stared at the dropped scissors. Uselessly, her restrained fingers reached for the tool. Her eyes darted to Della, whose chest was now wiggling with an intensity her sporty top couldn't control. Her hand was half free; the coils of rope that once encircled her wrist now only pinned her palm. Simultaneously, the toes of Della's free foot worked the shackle of her other ankle. Kate was running out of time.

Desperately, she rocked her chair over about a foot. Then, hoping she'd eye-balled things right, swung her body to tilt her chair. It took a few attempts--each with an ever more exasperated grunt and wild whip of her hair--but with a terrifying lurch Kate tipped her chair.

Time slowed as she fell. The air tugged her already disheveled shirt up just barely past her belly button. She felt a twinge of embarrassment at seeing her pale-pink panties. But the jarring thump as she hit the ground brought her attention back into focus.

With scrambling fingers, Kate quickly grabbed the scissors. They were sharp, but Della's rope was sturdy. She had to twist, craning her neck and arching her back, to see her wrist knots and find a weakness. She chewed her cheek in concentration as she twisted her wrists to maneuver the blades. There was something about the rope slid between the spread blades, the way the crossing metal ground against the firm fibers that excited her. But she had no time to dwell.

With an anti-climactic whisper, the scissors severed the last strand, and the net of ropes relaxed like a deflating blimp. The cage around her leg fell in another second, and soon after, her harness was cut away. She sprang up, and--momentarily forgetting she was in just a loose shirt--did a cartwheel to her still struggling opponent. Blushing slightly she smoothed her garment back down over her panties, and made a conscious effort to focus on her victory.

"Della's done. Kate has won. Della's done. Kate has won," she chanted as she performed the happy-hop, victory dance she'd perfected over a hundred game nights.

Her best friend did a pretty good job hiding her smile as she rolled her eyes.

Kate twisted her neck to be properly oriented with her inverted friend. "There you are all tied up. And soon I'll be... all tied up."

Della was getting talented at giggling around her gag.

"Okay, okay, I really didn't think that sentence through," admitted Kate as she crouched to untie her close friend.

Della licked the errant drops of spit from her lips as the gag was removed. "Oh, I get it, don't worry, and I'm totally envious." She smiled and hugged Kate the moment her hands were free. "I'll get you trussed up soon. I just need to know how intense you want things. Do you want to start out slow? Or dive into the deep end?"