The Best Mother in the World
Growing up in the seventies was a very different time from now – and I don’t just mean because it was forty years or more ago. Somehow it seemed a freer time, less rules, more time to do things, and to read – oh to read, and I loved to read.
And what I really loved to read were the old Detective Magazine – you know, True Detective, Police Detective, the ones with the lurid pictures and crime stories. I collected them, you see, in an old box under my bed – which, given I was twelve at the time I’m talking about, seemed the safest place in the world.
What I had not figured on was the innate curiosity of the mother – or how she would react if she found them, and as sure as David Cassidy could sing, I came home from school one day to find her waiting, the box on the table and open.
“Tommy,” she said as she sat there, her arms crossed, “care to explain?” I remember she was wearing a white top that looked a bit like a nightdress, a short blue skirt, tights and black shoes. She took a magazine and held it up, the picture on the front a woman with her hands behind her back, and ropes around her waist and ankles.
I stood there, and I felt so busted, as I stammered “well… You see… I like to read the stories and…”
“Tommy,” Mum said quietly, “I’m not angry with you, I just want to know what you find exciting about them.”
I looked at her, and said “I like the stories…”
“And the pictures on the covers?”
I must have been red as a cooked beetroot as I nodded, and said “Please, don’t throw them out…”
“I won’t – but have you… Tommy, have you ever made someone like one of these covers?” I shook my head as Mum smiled, and said “but you have wanted to, right?” This time I knew I had no choice, as I nodded slowly and said “just to see what it is like…”
Mum looked at me, and said “you know it’s not nice to do this to someone unless they say yes first?” I nodded, and then I got the shock of my life as Mum looked at the magazine cover, and said “would you do it to me, and that might get it out of your system?”
Now be honest – you would have said yes in a flash, wouldn’t you? SO I nodded as Mum put the magazine back in the box, closed it and said “I’ll be up in a minute.” I took the box up and put it under my bed again, and waited as Mum came in with some lengths of rope that Dad kept in the garage. Sitting down, she handed one to me and turned, putting her hands behind her back as she said “I’ll tell you if it hurts.”
I was shaking like crazy, but somehow I manage to tie Mum’s hands together behind her back as she sat on my bed, and then tie the rope round her waist as well, before I knelt down and tied her ankles together. It was think brown rope, and it wasn’t the tightest of jobs, but Mum smiled as she said “I guess I’m your captive now, right?”
“I guess so,” I said as I looked at her – I had my Mum tired up on my bed, and she let me do it? It was the best feeling in the world as she wriggled round, and I began to imagine her as the girl on the cover of the magazine…
After a while, Mum said “all right, Tommy, let me go – Dad will be home soon, “and I had to untie her, but as I did I said “Mum – will you let me do another one like this with you some time?”
“We’ll see,” she said as she left me in the room – but I knew I wanted to do this again…
The second time came a week after the following Saturday – Dad had gone to an away game with the City, and I was left at home with Mum to do the shopping. She was wearing a red jumper and a knee length grey skirt, as well as her black shoes, but as she was drawing up the shopping list she said “you’d rather be with your dad, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah – why couldn’t I go?”
“Because you’d be too late back,” she said as she checked her purse, and looked at me. “Tell you what – help me with this, and maybe you can act another of those magazine stories with me.”
If course I jumped at the chance, so we drove to the nearby Fine Fare and filled the basket with Crispy pancakes and other goodies, then brought them home and put them away before I went to my room. Unknown to Mum, I had got hold of other things, including some white washing line, and a scarf to tie over my face. I also had a toy cowboy gun, so I tied the scarf over the lower part of my face, held the gun in one hand and the rope in the other, and sneaked down to where Mum was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper.
“Hands up lady,” I said as I came in, “this is a robbery.”
She looked at me, and raised her hands in the air as she said “please, don’t hurt me.” I looked at her in the chair – it was an old black wooden one – and said “put your hands behind the char back lady – I need to tie you to the chair so that I can take your valuables.”
She smiled as she slowly put her arms round the chair back, and I walked behind her, taking the washing line and putting her wrists together before I tied the rope round them. The picture had shown the women tied to the chair, so I tried to copy the picture, wrapping the rope around the chair back and her body, then round her lap and the chair seat, then around the chair legs and her legs as I took them to one side.
It was only when I stopped and stood up I saw how the rope sat on Mum’s chest, and I blushed as I said “sorry mum…”
She looked at me as she wriggled round, and said “Don’t worry Tommy, I understand, help, someone help me…”
She was really getting into character, as I stood behind her, and put my hand over her mouth, saying “be quiet lady or I keep you quiet.” She tried to speak into my mouth, making the palm of my hand wet, but I laughed and said “do I have to tie a scarf into your mouth?”
Mum stopped and looked at me as I took my hand away, and said “you wouldn’t dare…”
Well, that was a challenge, so I picked up a white napkin, rolled it into a band, and before Mum could say anything I had pulled it between her red lips and tied it round her head. She looked at me, her eyes wide before she laughed and said “Ghssshdehrrfths.”
“You sound funny Mum,” I laughed, and she laughed as well as I admired my hostage, and wondered why she was enjoying it so much, and why I found it so exciting. But it was exciting – even if I had to untie her so that she could cook lunch…
That was in the early spring, and through the year there were other times when Mum would play with me. I remember in the April when we got a new car – and I had Mum acting out another cover. She had been to a golf club thing, and was wearing a peach coloured polo shirt with short sleeves, and a black short skirt with her white heels. The car had pride of place in our garage – and Mum had pride of place in the front passenger seat, her wrists tied together with washing lien and then raised up and secured to the little handle inside the door.
I had also tied her ankles together, in the foot well of the seat,, but I had also tied her legs together below her knees – that was what the picture showed, and Mum giggled a little as my fingers stroked her legs while I did that. It made me feel a little special as well, as did something else – I had tied a white cloth round her head to cover her mouth, but she had allowed me to put a clean cloth in her mouth as well. In the story, the kidnapper had used an oily rag, but hey – it was my mother!
She looked at me and mumbled “Whysddhhsthrthtss” as she shook her head, but to me she was the best Mum of all time, and I wanted her to know that, as I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
It was a long hot summer, and there were a few times when I also had Mum in my grasps as she wore more summery clothes – and at that time, it meant tight mini dresses with short or no sleeves. One of the times was another one where I used the rope Dad kept in the garage – as well as an old recliner he had stored in there for some reason.
It was a warm day, and Mum was wearing this mustard coloured mini dress with funny sleeves when I pretended to kidnap her. I used some brown rope to tie her wrists together behind her back, and then walked her into the garage and sat her down on that recliner, before I tied her ankles together with more of that rope.
She then – and this was great – allowed me to put a folded white cloth in her mouth and tie a length of white cloth round her mouth as well, as she posed and struggled for me. She seemed to be really getting into this sort of thing, but I knew it was just a game for her as well…
Well, that was what I thought at the time, as she twisted round. I hadn’t tied the ropes very tightly that time, as she looked at me and smiled over the cloth…
The other time that summer before the really big event was a week or two later – Mum was wearing another mustard coloured dress, this onw with no sleeves, but a thick brown leather belt round her waist, and blakc shoes instead of white ones. I was eating my breakfast when she came in and sat next to me at the tbale, looking at me.
I glanced over, and said “what?”
“I need you to play a game for me today, Tommy,” she said with a smile, “and I need you to leave me alone there for a while, can you do that?”
“Sure Mum, what have you got in mind?”
She smiled as she held her hands out, and said “you can start by tying my wrists together with some of that white rope.”
I smiled as I went to the cupboard and got some of the soft white rope we had, and tied her wrists together as she smiled at me. “Thank you – now let’s go to the garage, I have something set up there.”
I followed her into the garage, and saw she had set up an old wooden ladder against the wall. Sitting on one rung, she put her hands up and said “tie me to the ladder.”
I knew the magazine she was thinking of, so I took some of the rope I had brought in, put her wrists against the top rung of the ladder and tied them in place as Mum sighed. I then took more rope and tied it round her waist, the rope sitting on top of her belt as I tied it round her and the ladder step.
I then tied her lap to the step she was sitting on with more rope, before I said “do you want me to tie your ankles?”
“no – but gag me,” she said with a smile as I rolled up a white cloth, and pulled it between her lips, tying it round her head as she mumbled and nodded.
“Are you sure you want to be left alone,” I said, Mum nodding as she twisted round. I had heard a low buzzing sound for a few minutes, but thought nothing of it as I left her there for an hour or so…
And then, there was the last time Mum played the game with me – and someone else. Aunt Suzie had come to stay for a few days, and when I came home from school they were sitting having coffee – and then they both looked at me.
“What,” I said as I put my bag down. Mum was wearing a black blouse and mini skirt with knee length laced boots, and Aunt Suzie a light blue top and hot pants with knee length white go-go boots.
“Tommy,” Aunt Suzie said with a smile, “your mum showed me your collection.”
“Oh,” I said as I blushed, “and now?”
“Can you tie both of us up – like this?” She showed me one magazine, and smiled as I nodded and said “exactly like that.”
“Well, you had better get ready while I close the curtains and get what’s needed,” I said as they walked off. When they came back, they had changed – Mum into a white camisole, and Aunt Suzie into a white bra and slip, but both of them still had their tights on.
“Okay,” I said quietly as I held up some black rope, “who’s first?” Mum smiled as she turned round and put her hands behind her back, and I tied her wrists tightly together, and then I tied Aunt Suzie’s wrists in front of her as she folded her arms.
I then sat them on the floor, back to back, and wound more of the black rope round both of them, holding them together as I crossed the rope between Mum’s breasts, and around their arms and bodies so they were held together. I could see Mum waving her fingers against Aunt Suzie’s back as she wriggled round, the strap of her slip falling down her shoulder, while Aunt Suzie giggled.
She didn’t giggle for long, as she opened her mouth and I pulled a rolled up green scarf between her lips, tying the ends at the base of her neck. Mum really liked the thick white scarf which I pulled between her lips, as she closed her teeth on it, and then they both watched as I tied their ankles as well.
“Uhchnwshh,” Mum mumbled as I went to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of milk and a Wagon Wheel, sitting watching them struggle and enjoying the show.
Actually, enjoying the show in a different way – somehow, all the times before it had just been a game, but this time something else was happening – something that told me that just maybe, I needed to find another playmate than my mother…