A Mother-Daughter Moment

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“NO!  He really wanted you to do that?”

 

“I’m not joking,” Frankie Jones said as she sat on the couch, looking at her mother.  She had her bare feet up on the centre of the seat, the hems of her jeans covering them as she held her coffee mug in her hand.  Her long dark brown hair was over the shoulders of her purple long sleeved top as they both laughed.

 

Bobbi, her mother, was wearing a light blue fleece with a button front over a long sleeved black top, jeans and ankle boots.  It was a Sunday afternoon, and Frankie always came round to see her mother for a coffee and chat for a few hours.  Since her father had died unexpectedly last year, this had become even more important.

 

“Right,” Bobbi said as she stood up, “I need to go and put the roast into the oven – there’s a box of things over there that I think need to be thrown out.  Can you have a look through; make sure there is nothing of yours in there?”

 

“Sure,” Frankie said as she watched her mother walking out, and then stood up herself, walking to where a cardboard box was sitting on a low table.  Opening it up, she began to look through the contents, and smiling as she found an old report.

 

“’Francine possesses a keen imagination, and would profit from been able to harness that and putting it to a productive use.’  Well, I guess doing radio voiceovers for a living meets that,” she said to herself before she found an old photo album.

 

“Now what have we got here,” she said to herself as she went back to the couch, sitting down as she opened and started to look at some of the pictures.  As she moved through the pages, smiling at the baby photos, a pack of photographs fell out from between the pages.

 

“Now what are these,” she said to herself as she took the photographs out, looking at one in particular.  It was obviously her mother, although at the same age as Frankie was now, wearing a red leotard over a grey body stocking, red knee length boots and elbow gloves, and with a red domino mask covering her eyes.

 

“Mum?  I never knew you were a cos player,” she said to herself, shaking her head as she looked through more photos of Bobbi posing.  She then looked at one in particular, and gasped.

 

Her mother was still in the costume, but now she was sitting on a couch, her arms pulled behind her back and bands of rope visible above and below her chest, as well as around her legs and her ankles.  A thick scarf was pulled between her lips and tied round her head, and she was pretending to struggle.

 

Looking on, she found more photos of her like that, and then one of her mother in a different set of clothes.  In this one, she was wearing a white blouse, knee length black leather skirt, stockings and ankle boots, and she was tightly secured to a chair with ropes.  A wide strip of tape was covering her mouth.

 

“Mum,” Frankie called out, “can you come in here a minute please?”

 

“Sure, what’s...  Bobbi stopped as she looked at the photos in Frankie’s hand, and blushed as she said “ah – I wondered where they had got to.”

 

“Mum, what is...”

 

“Well,” Bobbi said as she sat down, “when your father and I first started dating, we were both into attending conventions on science fiction and comic books, and we used to dress up for them.  I was called the Red Avenger.”

 

“Never – but these photos?”

 

“Our little secret,” Bobbi said quietly.  “We liked to act out scenarios, and sometimes your father would capture me as a robber or a dastardly villain.  Mind you, when you came along, we kind of stopped...”

 

“Did you like it?”

 

Nodding, Bobbi said “don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it.  In fact...”

 

“You.  Have.  Got.  To.  Be.  Joking!”

 

“Oh – are you chicken?”

 

Frankie looked at her mother, and then said “All right – all right, show me.”

 

“Don’t worry – I’ll be gentle,” Bobbi said as she went out of the room for a moment, and returned with a skein of cotton line.

 

“What are you going to do with that?”

 

“Cut it into lengths,” Bobbi said as she unwound the rope, measured off a length and snipped it off with scissors.  “So, hands in front or behind?”

 

Looking at her 45 year old mother, Frankie shrugged and then held her hands out in front of her, watching as Bobbi doubled the rope and passed it round her wrists, keeping it over the cuffs of her top as she fed the ends through the middle, pulled it back so that Frankie’s wrists were pulled together, and then wrapping it twice round before tucking the ends through the band.

 

“Well, this is different,” she said as her mum then separated the lengths of rope and took them between her arms, tightening the band around her wrists before she tied the ends off underneath and tucked them away.  Looking at her secured wrists, Frankie stared at the white band of rope as her mother looked on.

 

“Well?  Does it hurt?”

 

“No,” Frankie whispered, “it doesn’t.  I...  I can’t really describe how it feels.”

 

“Well, ready for me to do your ankles in the same way?”

 

Nodding, Frankie watched as Bobbi cut another length of rope, doubled it over and then secured her ankles together in the same way, the cuffs of her jeans flaring out under the band.

 

“This is so weird,” she said as she tried twisting her wrists and ankles round.  “But this isn’t how you looked in those photos.”

 

“No – but this is how it was the first time your father used ropes on me.  So, want me to carry on?”

 

Frankie was surprised to find herself nodding, as Bobbi cut another length of rope, and tied her legs together above her knees, taking the rope around and between them again, before using the last length to secure her wrists down to her legs.

 

“Why did you do that?”

 

“To stop you picking at the rope with your teeth – how do you feel now?”

 

Frankie was actually beginning to feel – excited at the way she was, but she didn’t want to say anything, so she nodded and said “tied up, unable to move easily – so what now?”

 

“Now, we need to keep you quiet.”  Bobbi went out into the hallway again, returning as she rolled up a red scarf in her hands.

 

“Oh I see, the scarf between the lips?  That’s going to keep me quiet?”

 

“Wait and see,” Bobbi said as she stood behind her daughter, “open your mouth.”

 

As she did so, Frankie felt the silk on her tongue as the band was taken between her lips and teeth, trapping her hair underneath as her mother tied it round her head.

 

Wlltsdffrttn,” she mumbled as Bobbi stood in front of her.

 

“Right, I am going to go and prepare the vegetables.  Will you be all right here?”

 

Frankie nodded as Bobbi said “Good – in return, after we’ve eaten, I’ll give you a chance to get some revenge on me.  Maybe show you what your father did in that photo.”

 

Turning the radio on, Frankie watched her mother head to the kitchen, and then she turned herself round, bending her legs again as she looked at the bands of rope.  They were holding her limbs firmly together, and she didn’t have much room to try and free the scarf from her mouth, but...

 

It felt good, she realised, and that was strange in itself.  What was even stranger, as the scarf got wetter and settled in her mouth, was the peaceful feeling that was running through her...

 

 

“Frankie?”

 

She opened her eyes to see her mother looking at her.

 

“You fell asleep,” Bobbi said as she untied the scarf and removed it from her mouth, the dark wet stain visible to Frankie now.  “Let me untie you, and you can go to the toilet before we eat.”

 

Frankie nodded as she watched her mother untie the ropes, and leave them on the coffee table, before she went to the bathroom.  Returning to the dining room, she sat down as Bobbi served the meal, before saying “did you fall asleep as well?”

 

“Sometimes – were you frightened?”

 

“I would not have fallen asleep if I was.  No – is it strange to say I found it peaceful?”

 

Shaking her head, Bobbi said “Nope – and no, it doesn’t mean you’re a weirdo or a pervert either.  Some people just – like it.”

 

“Did he ever use anything else other than rope?”

 

“Oh yes – but you saw some of the photos with rope, so I wanted to use that.”

 

“And just what do you want me to do after dinner?”

 

Bobbi just smiled and said, “you’ll see.”

 

 

“Right,” Bobbi said as she and Frankie went back into the front room, bringing another skein of washing line with her, “I need you to do what I tell you, all right?”

 

Frankie nodded as she watched her mother take off her sweatshirt, and stretch her arms.  “All right then – you saw how I did the rope around your wrists?”

 

Frankie nodded as she picked up one of the lengths of rope and double it over.

 

“Good – I want you to tie my wrists together behind my back,” Bobbi said as she stood with her back to her daughter, and crossed her wrists in the small of her back.  She looked over her shoulder, watching as Frankie used the cord to bind her wrists tightly together.

 

“Not bad for a first attempt,” she said, smiling as she tried to twist her arms round before turning round and sitting down.  Crossing her ankles, she said “now these – same way as before.”

 

Frankie took another length of rope and slowly knelt down, wrapping the rope around her mother’s ankles and securing them together.

 

“Do you want me to tie your legs in the same way as before?”

 

“Yes and no – tie them together below my knees.”

 

Bobbi smiled as she watched Frankie securing her legs together as well, trying not to sigh as the rope went between her legs.  As she tied the rope off, she moved her legs from side to side and said “now I haven’t felt like this for quite some time...”

 

“So what do you want me to do now?”

 

“The new skein – shake it loose, and then I want you to double it over and sit behind me,” Bobbi said as she turned in the seat.  “When you’re ready, pass it around my arms and body, under my chest, and pull the ends through the middle just as you did for my wrists and ankles.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You’ll see,” Bobbi said as she felt the rope on her top, and then the constricting around her as her arms were pulled into her side.  “Good – now tale it round me again, this time above my chest.  Then a few more times, below and above.”

 

She waited as Frankie made three passes above and below, before she said “now, take it around both bands behind my back, and pull them together before you knot the ends off.”

 

This time, she did let out a little sigh as Frankie finished binding her upper body, wriggling round as the ropes framed her chest.

 

“Is it meant to force them out like that?”

 

“Oh yes – and it feels nice,” Bobbi said with a smile.  “Right – now you need to keep me quiet.  I could understand you when you had the scarf in your mouth, right?”

 

“I think so,” Frankie said.

 

“Well, here’s one way to really stop that.  I want you to pick up the red scarf, and tie a knot in the middle of it after you roll it up.”

 

“Are you sure you’re all right with this mum,” Frankie said as she made the knot.

 

“Oh yes – now, listen carefully.  Take the hankie and fold it up, then I want you to put that in my mouth, and then put the knot in as well before you tie the scarf round my head.”

 

“But what if you choke?”

 

“I won’t – trust me.”

 

Slowly, Frankie put the folded hankie in and then eased the knot into her mother’s mouth, before tying the red band around her head.

 

Thrrmfn,” she said as she twisted round.

 

“So what do I do?”

 

Ucnddthdshs,” Bobbi said as she looked at her daughter, “lrrt?”

 

“You want me to do the dishes?”

 

Bobbi nodded and sat back, smiling over her gag as Frankie made her way into the kitchen...

 

 

 

When she came back, Frankie was surprised to see her mother lying there, her eyes closed and apparently asleep.  As he put the coffee mugs down, however, Bobbi opened her eyes and said “mssnss” as she sat up.

 

“I guess I should untie you now,” Frankie said.

 

Jstmrms,” Bobbi said, turning and looking over her shoulders as Frankie released her arms, before untying and removing the gag.

 

“Why haven’t you untied your legs?”

 

“I don’t want to just now,” Bobbi said as she picked up a coffee mug.  “So, do you think I’m strange?”

 

“No – it’s just a bit of a shock seeing you do this.”

 

“Well,” Bobbi said with a glint in her eye, “fancy a little wager?  I can show you how we can both be tied up, really gagged, and we see who can get free first.”

 

“How?”

 

“Are you up for it?”

 

Frankie thought for a moment, and then said “Yeah – why not.  But can you tie yourself up?”

 

“Watch – coffee first though.”

 

 

“Right,” Bobbi said, “I need to fix a couple of ropes before we begin.”  She took two lengths of rope, making what looked like a set of rope cuffs with one and then fixing it to the coiled second length of rope.

 

“Okay – so I’m going to start by tying you up first.  Did you get the extra ropes from upstairs?”

 

“Well, I brought the trunk down – what are these other things?”

 

“None of your beeswax,” her mother said as she took a length of brown rope out, “put your feet up here on the couch and cross your ankles.”

 

Frankie watched as her mother tied her ankles tightly together, and then her legs below her knees, before she said “okay – lower them down and turn with your back to me.”  As she did so, she was surprised to feel the rope below her knees tighten around her legs.

 

“What the...”

 

“Yeah – something to do with muscle contraction,” Bobbi said, “now, cross your wrists behind your back, and breathe normally.”

 

Frankie felt the rope around her wrists again, flexing her fingers as they were secured together, and then gasped as she felt the rope around her body, holding her arms to her sides as they rested above and below her chest.  She could feel the top tightening over it, but said nothing as the rope was tightened even more behind her back.

 

“Now then,” Bobbi said, “how does that feel?”

 

“Very different – the way it rubs on me...”

 

“Yeah – so we need to be quiet now.  You know the picture you saw of me tied to the chair?”

 

“Your mouth had some sort of tape over it?”

 

“That’s right,” Bobbi said as she took out a wide roll of white tape, and two sponges.  We’re going to be really quiet now, but I’m going to put a pair of scissors on the table, in case one of us needs to cut the other free.  What we’re going to do is put these sponges in our mouth.  I’ll then tear off some of this tape and stick it over our mouths.  Trust me – it will stay there until one of us removes it.

 

“If you want to be free at any time, grunt three times, I’ll get the scissors and cut your arms free.  All right?”

 

Frankie sat for a second, before she said “All right – on three.”  She picked up the sponge, squeezing it in her hand as her mother did the same with the second one, and said “one... two... three.”

 

Pushing the sponge into her mouth, Frankie was surprised to feel how it expanded and pushed her tongue down, while she closed her lips over it.  She watched her mother tear a long strip of the white tape from the roll, hearing the strange squelching sound it made as it came away, and then felt the hands smoothing it over her mouth and jaw, the tape forming to the contours and stretching as if it was a second skin.

 

Hmgddd” she heard herself mumble as Bobbi smoothed a length of tape over her own mouth as well, and then pull the ropes she had arranged over her head, moving them so the two bands sat snugly above and below her chest.   Frankie watched as her mother looked over her shoulder, and moved her arms so that her hands slipped through the two loops of rope, before she pulled them down and apart.

 

Thrrr,” she mumbled as she watched Frankie.  reddwehnrr.”

 

Frankie nodded as the two women started to struggle, remaining silent as they wriggled round, Frankie feeling the ropes rubbing and wondering why she was feeling so hot, so excited....

 

 

 

 

“There,” Bobbi finally said as Frankie stood up, “how do you feel?”

 

“Strange, if truth be told.  Sorry about the washing line.”

 

Heh – I’ll replace it.  So – want to try it again some time?”

 

“Possibly – if the Red Avenger can reappear...”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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