Unfortunately, my embarrassment didn’t end there. I had seen some damsels-in-distress-type scenes on TV and I was experimenting with self-bondage, pretending I was a damsel desperately trying to free myself. I was a bit tied up when my mom pushed her way past the dresser I’d moved in front of my door. I never understood why those stupid doors didn’t have locks.
There I was: dressed in my finest, looking every bit the sissy, standing with my hands tied around the post of my tall four-post bed. “Mom??!” I shrieked breathlessly. She just stood there for all of a minute without moving. I used the time to try to struggle out of my ropes. Unfortunately, I had tied myself pretty well this time, and between my shame and some bizarre sense of modesty, I didn’t even attempt to climb up on the bed and lift my wrists over the post.
After that first shameful minute, I saw my mother’s face shift from a resolute thoughtfulness into that stern look she usually reserved for my brothers. I knew I was finally in serious trouble, but nothing could have prepared me for the punishment I was about to receive.
She approached the bed where I had laid out all the clothing and rope I had collected over the years. I shifted myself nervously about to see what she was doing. She ran her eyes over the collection, and then gingerly picked up some old, white nylon tights. “Do you like wearing these clothes, do you?” she asked. “Y…yes,” I squeaked out. “Fine, then let me help you. Open up,” she directed as she held them up to my face.
Uh oh, I thought, here comes the punishment. She’s going to make me eat them. I was reluctant, but what could I do? I opened my mouth and in went the panty section of the hose. I had a slight gag reflex, but I managed to cough and sputter a bit and not get choked on the material. But I wasn’t shocked at this punishment until she wrapped the legs of the tights several times around and tied them tightly behind my head.
I had expected to have to suck the tights for a minute, but the tying seemed unnecessary since I was prepared to take this punishment. But my mom had apparently done some thinking about this since the last time I was caught. Somehow she’d gotten the idea that she could shock my deviant behavior out of me. That is what I surmised, anyway, when she picked up several lengths of rope and began wrapping them around my ankles, tying me firmly to the bedpost.
She was nothing if not thorough. She tied my ankles, knees, waist, chest, upper arms, elbows, and wrists tightly to the bedpost. I was fully immobilized from head to foot with my wrists high up on the post. I was confused by this seemingly bizarre punishment, but I was also somewhat aroused. After stepping back and examining her work, she turned and said, “Good night,” just before she turned out the light and pulled the door closed behind her.
Needless to say, I was a little panicked. The tight bondage had left me pulled up to the post with only my toes touching the floor. I could sag in my bonds, but it was mentally difficult to give up that scant contact with the floor. I had never spent a night in full bondage before, and it was very scary.
Luckily Mom couldn’t sleep either. She must have been thinking about things over some strong drink. Mom was never much of a drinker, but when she came back in the room sometime later she was a little shaky on her feet. I’m not sure she was fully drunk, but she was not exactly herself either. She just stood there, looking at me with bleary, tear-stained eyes.
I was soaked with. As the minutes passed, I awaited my next fate in anxious agony. She examined me with a sad look on her face. She said nothing until she noticed the large wet spot in the front of my ruffled panties. I just looked at her with ashamed exhaustion.
“No, no, no,” she muttered into her hands. Exasperated, she said, “I see that your punishment has had the wrong impact on you. I just don’t know what to do with you. I love you, but you have to learn that you can’t play like this.” She entered my closet and brought out one of my leather belts. The energy flowed back into my body as I realized I was about to get the first strapping of my life. “I’ve never had to raise my hand to you before, but I have to make an impression on you. I’m sorry Sweetie.”
I outwardly protested but took my punishment the best I could.