A Sister’s Bridal Shower

By Jay Manning







(Sometimes when the husband accepts a crappy assignment for his wife’s sake, it comes out smellng like roses.)


“Why am I inside on this beautiful summer Sunday afternoon?” the little voice in my head keeps asking.  “Because you gave away your baseball tickets, Dummy!” the other voice keeps answering, and then replays the scene from the previous Wednesday evening, after my wife, Nancy, finished a lengthy phone call.


“That was Sue Riley,” she said as she entered the room, and added, “It looks like we’ve got a problem.”


Just what I’d heard from Nancy’s end of the conversation told me something was wrong with plans for her sorority sister’s bridal shower on Sunday, but what’s this “We” business?  It was going to be at the Rileys, but now they have to go out of town?


“So I said we’d have it here,” Nancy said.


Well that wouldn’t affect me, because I already had tickets to the baseball game.  Then the other shoe dropped:


“I also told her that you’d videotape the party so she can see it when she gets back,” my wife added with her best “and you owe me one, Fella!” expression.


*  *  *  *  *


            “At least I don’t have to be in there with all those chattering women,” I thought.  In exchange for my baseball tickets, my neighbor Kevin managed to get a prototype remotely-operated video system that his company is developing for security surveillance, and spent a couple of hours Saturday setting it up in our living room.  With all of the remote operating controls on the coffee table before me, I’ll be able to videotape the party from two very unobtrusive remote cameras we installed in the living room, and I can still watch the game on the split screen TV in the privacy of our den.


            Actually there weren’t as many guests as I’d expected.  I also noticed that most of them were considerably younger, were damn good looking, and were all dolled up in their Sunday best. The Alpha Omicron Ρi sisters apparently loved to dress to the nines, including hats and gloves – probably a throwback to the 1950s, when they were chartered.


One guest was particularly stunning: she looked to be about 5 foot, 2 inches tall, with dark hair just reaching her shoulders, and maybe 110 pounds.  She wore a pale yellow suit, with an ivory blouse, black gloves, and black patent pumps with three-inch heels.  I later learned her name was Kelly. Holly Sims, the bride-to-be wore a light blue, long-sleeved shirtwaist dress, with white kid pumps.  “Any one of them would make a pretty package,” I mused, “especially if she were tied up and gagged!”


None of them, though, could match up with my wife.  Although she just turned 44, she looked absolutely elegant in her light green suit with a sheer V-neck blouse and her new shoes - black patent pumps with a thin strap which buckled over her instep.  They reminded her, she’d said, of the “Mary Janes” she wore as a child, but with more-tapered toes and much slimmer, 3-inch high heels.


Besides Holly, the only one I recognized was Jane Andrews, whom Nancy has known since college.  For as long as I’ve known her, nothing that Jane does (including things I may have only heard that she’s done) surprises me any more.  That’s why Nancy and I have long referred to her in private as, “Crazy Jane”.  Today, for example, she introduced herself as “Auntie Jane”.  “Oh, are you Nancy’s aunt?” someone asked.




“Actually, I'm not a blood relative, but we’ve been sorority sisters for ages,” she replied.


*  *  *  *  *


After five innings the visitors were so far ahead that I’d lost interest in the game, and was starting to channel surf when I heard a woman’s voice shriek, “What’s that?”  Holly had opened a box and was holding a small red ball with a leather strap through it.  “Is that what I think it is?” I wondered as Jane’s voice cut in.


“You-all asked for ‘gag gifts’, so that’s exactly what I brought - a gag!” she announced to the onlookers.  Then ignoring their incredulous expressions, she looked at Holly and asked, “Well, Dear, aren’t you going to try it on for us?”


Since most of them had drunk some alcohol, which had obviously dulled their inhibitions, some of the women began chanting, “Yeah! Holly! Do it! Do it!”  They sure had my attention, as well as my vote.


“I - I don’t know - how does it go on?” she asked hesitantly.  It was obvious that she wanted to avoid it and change the subject altogether.


“I guess I’ll just have to show you!” Jane declared.  Placing a straight-back chair from our dining set in the center of the room, she added, “Sit here, Holly, where everyone can see you.”


With the others egging her on, she sat down, while Jane slipped behind the bride’s chair with the ball-gag in hand.  “Now, open wide,” she ordered, and firmly placed the ball between Holly’s lips.  As she pulled the straps around the bride’s head and fastened them in back she joked with the crowd, “One way or another, Holly’s gonna’ have to learn to talk less and listen more, especially when she’s with her husband!”


That line was received with much laughter, but Holly had already begun to reach for the buckle behind her head.  “No! Don't take it off!” shrieked one of the guests. “I want to get a picture!”


“Oh no you don’t!” Jane said.  “I came prepared for that too.”  From her large handbag she took several lengths of clothesline.  Before Holly could resist, her arms had been pulled behind the chair, and her wrists were bound together.  Her plaintive protests through the gag actually emboldened the others that much more.  The one in yellow leaped from her seat, picked up a piece of rope, and trussed the bride’s ankles together.  Finally Jane tied a short piece under the chair, securing the bride's bound feet to her wrists.


I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  With her shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, Holly Sims was securely gagged and hog-tied in the chair.  As the guests howled with glee, I zoomed the camera to get the scene in living color.  Suddenly my wife entered the room shouting.


“Stop it, you people!  Enough of this!”  She paused, and continued in a firm tone, “Jane!…Let her go!…I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in my house!”


An awkward silence followed, as it was obvious to everyone that Nancy had lost her cool.  Jane quickly released Holly and apologized all around, but the festive spirit had been significantly dampened. While they had refreshments I resumed my channel surfing, and soon became interested in an old war movie.  Since the remote cameras appeared to be working fine, I switched both the audio and video feeds off of the TV set and closed the family room door so I wasn’t interrupted.


*  *  *  *  *


The phone rang just as the movie was ending.  When I picked it up, however, Nancy cut in saying, “That’s O.K., Honey, I’ve got it here in the kitchen.  It’s Sue.  Oh, and I meant to come in and tell you that the party’s over, so you can turn off the video.”


Restoring the remote camera inputs on the TV, I saw only Jane and Kelly, who appeared to be cleaning things up.  Their conversation confirmed that the others had left.  Apparently Kelly was a former classmate of Holly’s, who had moved away during their high school years.  I removed the tape from the VCR, wrote the subject on the label, and was just about to turn off the cameras when Jane stooped down.  Pulling the ball gag out from under a chair, she held it up said, “Well, can you believe that?  Holly forgot to take my gift."


For a brief moment the room was quiet, and Kelly appeared to be deep in thought.  But it was her response that really floored me.


“Jane," she paused to make that sure she was listening before she continued, "have you ever…ahh… have you ever been tied up?”


After another pause Jane replied, “Well…ahh…yes.  Actually I have,…in fact, numerous times.  But why do you ask?”


“A couple of observations - mixed with a woman’s intuition,” Kelly answered, with a wry smile.  When Jane raised her eyebrows, she continued.  “I got this feeling that you were really enjoying it when you tied Holly up.  But that’s not all - when I saw her sitting there so helpless - well it was kind of a turn-on.”


“Just kind of a turn-on?” Jane asked.


“Yes,…ahh…NO!  It was…ahh…really a turn-on.  Yeah, it ahh…really turned me on.” Kelly replied.


“And?” Jane was drawing her out.


“Well, I was wondering,…ahh…if…ahh…” her hesitation was obvious, but Jane let her struggle.  “Well, ahh…I was wondering…ahh… what does it feel like to be tied up?”  Another pause.


Finally Jane asked in a low voice, “Are you suggesting that you want me to tie you up?”  After another pause, Kelly slowly nodded her head “Yes”.


“And just when did you have in mind?” Jane asked.


“Well…It’ll have to be sometime this week.  I live out of state, and only got to come today because I’m in the area for a conference. (pause)  Ahh… could I meet you somewhere after work this week?”


Jane looked around the room and said, “This looks pretty picked up.  Let’s sit down.”  She guided Kelly to the couch, and they continued their conversation in voices so low that even with the audio at full volume I could only hear parts of it.  The gist of it was that Jane had to meet her husband at the airport about 6:00, after which they were leaving town for a week.  Since it was now almost 4:30, if they were going to do it, it had to be right now and it had to be here.  More discussion followed, during which Kelly insisted that they seize the opportunity.  She even challenged Jane’s ability to bind her so well that she couldn’t get loose within 30 minutes.  In fact, she made it a $25 wager.


Jane raised one more objection.  “Well, Kelly,” she said, “I’m very tempted to take you up on it.  But before I take your money, what are we gonna’ do about Nancy?  You saw how she feels about this kind of stuff.  Also, since I can’t stay that long, how will we know who wins the wager?”


“Nancy?  I doubt that I'll ever see her again in my life." Kelly replied.  "But it's your friendship that's at risk, here, so you have to make the call.  I say why don’t we just tie her up first?  As for the wager, why couldn’t I call you somewhere as soon I get loose, and let that establish the time when I did it?”


“Lady, you have a diabolical mind,” Jane said, "But I can work with that.  Nancy – will probably get really upset, but we've had lots of fights before.  I know that eventually she'll get over it.  So… how’s this for a plan…”


The “plan” suggested that, as soon as Nancy entered the room, Kelly would grab her from behind and prevent her from screaming or resisting while Jane tied and gagged her.  Then Jane would bind and gag Kelly, and leave for the airport.  When Kelly got free, she would call Jane’s home, and the answering machine would record the message and automatically add the time.  By now I had thrown a new tape into the VCR, and was actively recording everything from both cameras.


Since Nancy was still on the phone, Jane went out to her car to get some more rope, as Kelly paced nervously around the living room.  She returned with a coil of clothesline and a roll of duct tape, and looked in Nancy’s sewing basket for the scissors she knew would be there.  She had just cut the rope into shorter lengths when Nancy entered from the dining room.  In the instant it took for her to see the rope and tape, Kelly had circled quietly around behind her.


“What’s…mmmmfff!” was all that escaped from her mouth.  In one continuous movement Kelly had pulled her elbows back and pinned them behind her with a forearm, while securely covering her mouth with her other hand.  Although an inch taller than Kelly, Nancy was disadvantaged by the younger woman’s strength and controlling position.  Still she didn’t give up easily.  A black patent heel flashed in the air as she tried to kick, but Kelly jerked her head back, forcing her to adjust her balance.  Jane seized the opening.  Dropping to the floor in front of her, she looped clothesline around my wife’s ankles and securely trussed them together. 


Futilely Nancy continued to struggle, but it was a losing cause.  With her arms pinned back, she couldn’t stop Jane plastering several pieces of the wide tape across her lips any more than she could stop them tying her wrists firmly behind her.  As Nancy teetered on her bound feet in the center of the room, the other two each grabbed an arm and forced her to hop over to the same chair in which Holly had been bound and shoved her down on it.


Assuming she would stay there, Jane turned and said, “O.K., Kelly.  We’ve got to hurry…” when Kelly rushed by her.  No sooner had she been shoved into the chair than Nancy stood up and started to hop on her bound feet toward the hall, bleating through her gag as loudly as she could.  They reached her a step short of the door.  With Kelly grabbing under her arms and Jane holding her legs, they carried her back to the chair.


Kelly held her down while Jane tied a cord to her wrists, threaded it beneath the chair and between her ankles and from there to a back leg.  Nancy was reduced to symbolic “mmmmffs!” and glaring as her captors next tied her elbows together and then her arms and torso to the chair with generous lengths of clothesline.  Another lengthy rope trussed her thighs and knees to the chair seat and rungs.


Like Holly before her, Nancy was now hog-tied in the chair.  The confining ropes forced her shoulders down and back, stretching her jacket more tightly over her firm breasts.  Noting her efforts to dislodge the gag, Jane peeled off a longer piece of tape, and doubled it lengthwise except for a few inches at the ends.  Sticking one end over the tape on Nancy’s mouth, she wrapped it around her head, and firmly plastered the other end over the first.  Not only was my wife securely bound and gagged, but also she would be forced to watch as Kelly was voluntarily trussed up.

*  *  *  *  *


"O.K., Kelly, are you still game?" Jane asked as she approached the chair containing the pile of clothesline, and then stopped as something outside the window apparently caught her attention.  She continued, "Well, well, what do we have here?"


"What is it?" Kelly asked as she walked over by her, and then exclaimed, "Omigosh! It's Holly! I wonder what she wants?"  She turned to Jane and whispered, "Now what're we gonna' do?"


"Well, I doubt that she came back for the ball-gag." she replied.  "Let's assume that the first thing she'll do is try the doorbell.  When no one answers, she'll either go away, in which case we don't have a problem, or she's going to come in anyway.  If she does the latter, she'll probably come right into the living room.  And she's going to be very surprised when she sees Nancy there.  That's when we grab her and tie her up, just like we did with Nancy.  Since we've come this far, I don't see as we have a choice."


"It sounds like a plan to me," Kelly said, taking a deep breath.  As the doorbell rang, she kicked off her shoes and quietly entered the hall beyond the corner that Holly would pass if she entered the living room.  Soon there was a noise like the door being opened, followed by the unmistakable sounds of high heels on the wooden floor in the hall.


I had selected the camera that focused on the living room door to the hall.  As predicted, Holly stopped right in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise.  As Nancy heaved against her bonds and frantically threw her head from side to side, Kelly moved out of the shadows, pinned the bride's arms behind her with one hand, and silenced her with the other.


Just as they had done with my wife, Jane dropped in front of her, rope in hand and trussed her legs together, at both her ankles and knees.  With the hand covering her mouth, Kelly jerked her head back so she couldn't resist as Jane tied her wrists together behind her back, and wrapped the long ends of rope around her waist.  Now Holly was helpless to prevent them from inserting the ball gag between her lips and securing it behind her head.  Finally Jane wound several lengths of clothesline around the young woman's body above and below her breasts, and stepped back.  A helpless and crying Holly Sims teetered on her bound, high-heeled feet and made pitiful little noises through her gag.


"Let's take her into the bedroom down the hall." Jane said, as she turned Holly around and ordered her to "Get moving!"  With Jane and Kelly on each side to keep her from falling, they hopped her out of the room.  Once I heard them pass the door to the family room, I cracked it just enough to watch them usher her into the bedroom.  A few moments later Jane's heels signaled their return to the living room, and I returned to the monitor, zooming in on the two women.

*  *  *  *  *


“Now, Kelly, as I was saying…” Jane intoned as she unraveled more clothesline.  ” Let’s see - how do I want you?  Yes!  First, put on your gloves; I don’t want the ropes to leave marks on your wrists. Then get down on the floor…on your knees…and face the couch!”


As Jane shook out the various lengths of clothesline, Kelly assumed the position.  Crossing her wrists behind her, she made her hands into fists.  Jane took a short piece of rope and knelt behind her.


“Kelly, Kelly,” she sighed as she opened her hands,  “…that’s kid stuff!”  A firm shove in the back forced her to bend at the waist and fall across the cushion.  Jane placed her hands palm to palm, and bound them together with several loops of clothesline.  Then she wrapped the loose ends between her wrists and tied a secure cinch.  When she had finished, Kelly’s hands fluttered as she tugged at her bonds.


“Is that too tight?” Jane asked.


“No,” she replied, as Jane next tied the woman’s elbows together in the small of her back.  When she pulled Kelly upright, I noticed that her buttoned jacket and blouse accented her firm breasts.  In a couple more minutes they were bulging under her clothes as more ropes encircled and tightened around her body above and below them.  Next Jane retrieved a rag and the roll of tape from the chair and stood behind her.  Rolling the rag into a ball, she held it in front of her mouth and said, "Open wide!"


As Kelly obeyed, she thrust the rag between her lips and plastered three pieces of tape over it to secure the gag. As she had with Nancy, Jane slapped one end of a longer piece of tape over Kelly’s mouth, stretched the doubled length tightly around her head, and plastered the other end back over her mouth.


“Now, my dear,” she commanded, “I want you to sit on the floor.”


Kelly heaved herself around on the floor, and leaned her back against the couch with her well-proportioned legs bent in front and her feet rocking on her high heels.  Her skirt had hitched well up her thighs.  Kneeling before her with a long piece of cord, Jane put the center under the soles of her pumps, extending it up on both sides and crossing it over her insteps.  She wrapped two loops around the slim ankles and securely knotted it behind them.  Firmly holding Kelly’s bound ankles, Jane forced them back against her thighs, then wound the long ends twice around both her thighs and ankles, guiding the loose ends in between them, where she could “cinch in” the cords, effectively holding the woman’s legs doubled up.  Finally she attached the middle of a doubled piece of rope to Kelly’s ankles, extended both ends up between her bound thighs and behind her neck, where she tied them securely.  In just under five minutes, Kelly was securely gagged and trussed up in a fetal position.  “How long,” I mused, “will it take her to get out of that?”


Looking at her watch and then at Kelly, Jane said, “O.K., it’s now 4:57.  If I don’t get a call from you before 5:27, I’ll be getting a check in the mail.  Right?”


“Uh huh!” was the only sound the woman could make as she nodded her head “Yes”.  As she gathered up the loose ropes and tape into her bag, Jane paused to look at my wife, who was writhing against the ropes that tied her securely in the chair, jerking her head rapidly from side to side, and making her own series of “mmmffs!”


“Nancy, I can’t understand a word you’re trying to say,” Jane mocked her.  “Are you trying to say, ‘Jane! Untie me!’ or is it ‘What about me?’?”


With her best pleading look and more “mmmffs!”, Nancy nodded her head up and down, “Yes!”


“Well, Nancy,” she said in a very deliberate voice, “I have it on the best authority that Kelly here will be able to get loose within a half-hour.  I’m sure she’ll help you then, and Nanc - Lighten up!  I seem to recall that we did this before - in college?”


Since Kelly had the greatest incentive to get loose, as well as slightly more mobility than my wife, I focused the camera on her.  As I expected, her first movements were to test her bonds: tugging her hands and moving her feet as far as the ropes allowed, then moving her head to try and see the knots.  When none of these helped, she tried to reach the ropes at her ankles by shifting her weight onto her left thigh - and promptly tumbled on her side.  Again her slender fingers sought knots that were beyond her reach.


Next she hitched herself up onto her knees, with her head on the floor and her buttocks in the air.  Again her hands fluttered to no avail.  Her next attempt was to reach the scissors that Jane had left on an end table, but the confining ropes prevented her raising her bound hands high enough to reach them.  Then she rolled back onto her side and looked at my wife.


Nancy was still writhing and squirming, but the only result was the squeak of her patent leather shoes as she rubbed her feet together.  When their eyes met, Kelly tried to communicate by various eye and head movements accompanied by a series of “Ahhhs!” When Nancy grunted in reply, she started to heave herself across the floor behind the chair.


For the next twenty minutes I was treated to the most delightful performance ever.  With continual “Ahhhs!” and “Mmmffs!” the two trussed-up women maneuvered into every possible position to enable one of them to reach and untie the other’s bonds.  Their problem was simple - being tied in the chair, Nancy was unable to get down to Kelly, who in turn was unable to get high enough off the floor to reach Nancy’s knots.


Ultimately Kelly found and untied the cord that joined Nancy’s wrists and ankles to the chair. Now my wife was able to plant her feet squarely under her, and she started to stand.  With her upper torso and thighs still bound to the chair, however, as well as having her ankles still tied together and wearing high heels, she immediately lost balance, ending up still bound to the chair and lying on her side on the floor.


It turned out to be the breakthrough they needed.  Kelly was able to hitch around behind the chair and find the knots that bound my wife’s wrists.  Within ten minutes she had untied them and loosened the ropes securing her elbows.  Soon Nancy had enough freedom to wriggle out of the ropes holding her upper body to the chair, and quickly released the ropes around her thighs.  Then she sat on the floor and untied her ankles.


I assumed that next she’d remove her gag and then help Kelly get free, but to my surprise she stood up and headed toward the den.  I was just able to switch the remote camera feed off the TV when the door burst open and my disheveled, trembling, and gagged wife staggered into the room.


“Honey - what happened?  Are you hurt?” I asked with surprise as I held her closely and gently removed her gag.


She looked up at me through teary eyes and said, “That bozo Jane Andrews has really done it this time!  She totally ruined the party!”  Then with her “Don’t interrupt me” tone of voice she continued, “I’m too worked up right now to tell you what happened, but I want you to go into the bedroom and untie Holly Sims and apologize for what's happened.  Offer to pay for cleaning her dress or ruining her nylons or whatever.  Then go into the living room and untie that Kelly bitch - and show her out the door!  I have a splitting headache.  I just want to get out of these clothes and lie down for a while.  What time is it now?”


“Uh - ten to six,” I replied.


She paused for a thought and then said, “O.K. - will you call me around eight, please?” and left the room.


“Sure, Hon,” I called after her, "and then I'll take us out for some supper."  I switched the camera back on the TV, and made sure it covered Kelly.  She had hitched herself over to the couch and was sitting with her back against it. 


Next I took my camera from its case and went into the bedroom. Holly lay on her tummy on the bed, secured in that position by the short rope connecting her bound wrists to her ankles, and grunting through the red ball-gag stuffed into her mouth. When she saw me she began to writhe and struggle against her bonds while constantly mewling through her gag. I watched her struggle for probably five minutes as I moved around shooting photos of her from all angles.


Then I turned to untying her – first the rope between her wrists and ankles. As I removed her gag I put on my best poker face and said, “I thought I should take photos in case you need evidence, but I hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive and forget everything. Of course we’ll pay for any expense you claim – cleaning bills, etc. O.K.?”


Looking directly at me she said softly, “I know it’s not your wife’s fault, and I’m sure I’ll be O.K., but just get these ropes off me.”


*  *  *  *  *


When Holly had left, I returned to the living room. Kelly turned her head aside to avoid my eyes.  I knelt beside her and said, “I’m Jay, and I’m here to help a damsel in distress. But first, I think you’ll want to see how helpless you look right now. O.K.?”


She looked into my eyes and enthusiastically nodded “Yes”, and then I engaged in my second photo shoot of a helplessly bound and gagged damsel-in-distress. When I finally put the camera on the table, she turned to her left, presumably so I could untie her wrists.  “Be cool, Jay,” I thought to myself, “and you can make this last even longer.”  I untied the knot behind her neck, so she could sit up straighter.


“First, why don’t I lift you onto the couch, so you’ll be more comfortable?  It’s Kelly, isn’t it?” I asked, and she nodded and grunted in response.  I slipped my right hand under her legs and the other around her back, and raised the bound woman onto the cushion.  Laying her on her back, I rolled her onto her left side so I could get at the knots that secured her legs.  Very deliberately I loosened the ropes around her calves and thighs, then grasped her bound ankles and helped her straighten out on the couch.


Then I turned to her elbows, removing the cords that held them in the small of her back.  I noticed her eyes following mine as I unwound the rest of the ropes encircling her arms and breasts.  At this point I rose and slowly shook out and coiled up the clothesline I‘d just removed.  It afforded me one last look at the attractive young woman still gagged and bound hand and foot in her yellow suit on our living room couch.


“Well, we’re almost there,” I said as I unbuckled the strap behind her head and gently removed the ball from her mouth.  “How’re ya doin’?”


“I…uh…I’m fine…I guess, but I’m really embarrassed,…and I’m really sorry for everything I put your wife through.  I don’t blame her for not wanting to see me again.”


“Yes,” I said, “well, I’ll tell her what you said.  Actually, I don’t think that she was mad at you.  She had a splitting headache, and she had to lie down.”  By now I had untied her hands and helped her sit up on the couch.  As she rubbed her wrists, I found the knot behind her ankles and slowly removed the ropes.


“Can I get you anything? A drink of water?” I asked, as she rubbed her ankles.


“No.  I’ve got to get going,” she replied as she picked it up and started toward the front hall. There she turned and said, “Actually, there is something; if I gave you my address, would you send me copies of the photos?”


“Absolutely,” I said. As she gave me one of her cards I opened the door and said, “Now let me see you to your car.”


Once in the car she rolled down the window and said, “Again, please give my deepest apologies to your wife.”


“Sure,” I replied.  “No problem.  But I have just one question - was it worth the 25 bucks?”


She paused as she considered my question. Then, when she recognized that I knew, an impish smile broke out.  “Oh, Yes! she replied emphatically, “Most definitely!”





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