Truth or Dare







My husband was out of town on business, so it seemed like a good time to let our youngest have a slumber party.  They behaved themselves pretty well, I was upstairs in the master suite, they were in the family room, and I could barely hear them.


About 10:30 I went down to check on them before I turned in.


My daughter and one of her friends were kneeling off to one side, while the three others were sitting together.


“Well, what is it, truth or dare?”




“Ok, over with them, you know what to do.”


”Truth or dare, you still play that?”


“Sure Mom”


“Did you ever play it Mrs. Patterson?”


“I think the last time was my sophomore year in college.”




“Let’s just say that several bottles of wine were involved. Well, you girls have fun.”


“You want to play Mrs. Patterson?”


“Yeah Mom”


“Well, I…”


“It’ll be fun Mrs. Patterson”


“Come on Mom”


“My Mom played twice.”




“So did Mrs. Robertson”




“Yes, Mother”


“Well, I guess”


“Good, now go get changed.”




“Yes Mom, we all have to be dressed the same.”


“We’ve always done it that way”


“The other mothers didn’t have any problems mom.”


“OK, I think that your father’s tee shirts might fit as loosely as yours. But it might not be as long.”


“As long as it covers your butt Mom.”


Ten minutes later I was back in the family room.


“Ready for your question Mom?”


“You’re the last one Mrs. Patterson.”




“Who was the last person…”


“Other than dad…”


“That you had oral sex with?”




“Same question that we all had Mrs. Patterson.”


“We all took the dare.”


“I don’t know about this.”


“Oh Mom”


“That’s all right Mrs. Patterson, my mom chickened out too.”


“Mine didn’t.”


“OK, OK, what kind of dares did you guys get?”


“We all get the same dare.”


“Makes it fairer and more fun”




“You can pick mom”




“Just pick a card from the bag Mrs. Patterson.”


“OK, what does H H mean?”


“Handcuff hogtie”




“Hogtied using handcuffs.”


“That way everybody gets the same treatment.”


“Well, I guess that makes sense.”


“Wait, now that your Mom is here, that makes it an even number, and we could do teams.”




“Good idea.”




“Yeah mom, we pair up and work as teams to get out of the hogtie.”


“OK, but just how do we get out of the handcuffs?”


“Each team will put a key someplace.”


“Everybody will see where all the keys are, so nobody has an advantage.”


“Almost sounds like this isn’t your first time for this.”


“Actually, my grandmother came up with most of the rules.”


“Your grandmother?”


“She said it was how they did it way back in the 50s.”


“Next you’ll be telling me that she did this handcuff hogtie escape game.”


“No, her arthritis was too bad for her to get her arms behind her back. She just sort of supervised.”


“But we did tie her hands in front to her ankles and gagged her.”


“My mom was kind of upset when we took her blindfold off and she saw her mother tied up.”


“She told my mom that what upset her was that your grandmother’s skirt was all the way up to her hips, and it didn’t seem to bother her”


“You’re kidding right?”


“No Mom.”


“OK, but it sounds like a story to me. Obviously I’m the rookie here. But, we might as well get started.”


“Everybody happy with where the keys are?”


“OK Mom, hands behind your back.”


“Where did you get all these handcuffs?”


“Party City, they sell them with all the other party games and toys.”


“Really, wonder for what kind of parties?”


“What’s the shoelace on the chain for?”


“Here I’ll show you Mrs. Patterson”


“Oh, I see, keeps you from really moving your arms around, really snugs them against your back.” 


“OK, on your belly Mom, just like Sue and Judy.”




“How about if one member of each team is blindfolded?”


“Why not”


“How’s that Mom, too tight?”


“I guess its OK, but I don’t think that I’ll be much use to you.” 


“All you have to do is lie there and let me unlock your cuffs after I get the key”


“Well, I guess that I can handle that.”


“OK Alice, your turn.”


And so my daughter was soon lying next to me, hands cuffed behind her back, tied to her back by a shoelace around her waist, her ankles cuffed together, and pulled up to a nice right angle. We looked almost identical, except for the fact that my pantiehose covered butt was showing.


“Open wide Mrs. Patterson.”




“Come on Mom, it’s just a gag.”


“Nobody said anything about a gag.”


“Really Mom, everybody knows that being gagged is part of being hogtied.”


“Well, I aaarrggghhh”


“Nice gag talk m aaaarrrrgghhhh”


Well at least we were almost identical again, we each had a nice big scarf knot tied firmly in our mouth.


“Now the blindfolds.”


OK, that shot my daughter’s plan all to hell. Now I would have to somehow get her blindfold off so she could get the key and unlock my cuffs.


At least I could watch as Samantha hogtied and gagged herself. Surprisingly easy with cuffs and attached shoelaces. She simply tied the cuffs together, tied the waist rope, gagged herself, knelt down, cuffed her ankles together, laid down on her stomach. Snapped the cuffs around her wrists, and she was hogtied and gagged just like the rest of us.


As soon as she was done, we all started.


I tried to get to Alice, but moving around was even harder than I had imagined.


I was able to make some progress and enough noise so that she could home in on me. After a few minutes I managed to get her blindfold off.


Unfortunately, the other teams were well on their way to the keys.


By the time that Alice reached ours, Samantha had already got Jane’s wrist cuffs off.


Needless to say, we didn’t win.


I think that they had an unfair advantage over me. Their 13 and 14 year old breasts were smaller and firmer than my 43 year old ones, and provided much less resistance to movement than mine did.


But by the time it was over, their shirts had worked their way up past their hips too, so all our pantihose covered butts were showing.


We took a little while to get ourselves back together, get something to drink, and visit the little girls room.


When I got back my daughter and the second place team where standing there with their hands behind their backs while Samantha and Judy gagged them.


“Er, what’s this?”


“Oh, the winners decide how the losers spend the night Mrs. Patterson.”


“But if you don’t want to, we understand.”


“I suppose your Mom was tied up again.”


“Both times, Sami is a much better partner.”


“OK, another hogtie?”


“No, face to face.”


“All night?”


“Unless we decide to change it.”


“What the hell. Can we at least be on my bed instead of the floor?”




We had our hands and arms tied, clothesline not handcuffs, clothesline around our arms above and below our breasts, and of course the one holding our wrists to our waists.


Having your wrists crossed and tied behind your back was a very different feeling than just having them held loosely together by toy plastic handcuffs. The gag knot was just as mouth filling and uncomfortable. 


Being blindfolded and gagged didn’t make it any easier to get up the stairs.


Once we got to the bed, our knees and ankles were tied and we were moved around so that we were facing each other. Again, it was a different feeling having your ankles actually touching rather than just shackled. 


Alice was about a head shorter than I was, so her chin was firmly planted in the top of my cleavage when they tied us together.


After we were tied together at the ankles, knees, waist, and upper arms, they just sort of toppled us onto the bed.


It wasn’t that crowded, since it was king size bed, and tied like that we really didn’t take up much more room than two adults,


We just lay there, mother and daughter, experiencing some real togetherness until my blindfold was removed, then my gag, and soon we were free.


“Boy, Mrs. Patterson, you really really are something. My mom got totally mad trying to get up our basement stairs and quit.”


“I told you guys that my Mom was something special.


Somehow that made being tied and gagged for eight hours worth it. Even if I had to change the bed linen because of the three big drool spots. Alice did a pretty good job of soaking the front of my shirt. 








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