Tales of the Rope

Chapter 15: Mail Sack - Another Marla Story

Chapter 15: Mail Sack - Another Marla Story

One afternoon during my late teen years, I was at a friend’s house and we had been playing some bondage games (we called them “tie up games”) when my friend brought out a mail sack he had found in the garage. It was made of very solid gray canvass with a drawstring around the opening and a metal clip on that rope drawstring that could be locked. There were two boys and one other girl besides myself. Since my hands were already tied behind my back and had been for a couple hours, it wasn’t surprising that the other three hit on the idea of stuffing me into the sack.

But first they tied my legs together and then doubled my legs up and tied them like that. Then they stuffed me into the sack. At first they were going to close the top over my head and lock it, but I protested that I might not be able breathe inside so they closed the drawstring around my neck instead. Tom ran to get the padlock off the shed and locked it through the metal buckle. I protested that it was very tight around my neck but they ignored me. It was usually that way. I had a reputation in the neighborhood as a girl who loved to be tied up and the tighter, more restrictive, the better.

Anyway, they watched me struggle for a while. I was able to roll around a bit but the canvass sack was a pretty tight fit around my body. My wrists were crossed and tied behind my back and had been for quite a while. I had already tried to work my hands loose and knew that I couldn’t. With my legs doubled up, I couldn’t move much and only managed to roll around a little. And it didn’t help that I was bent with my breasts against my thighs.

Well, they got tired of watching me and went off to play some other game. It was a well known fact that I liked to be left alone while tied up, so they didn’t bother to even ask if I would like to be let out of the sack. I knew that they would come back for me eventually but it might be a while. I was lying on the cement floor of a patio. I knew that his parents were at work and wouldn’t be home for at least five hours. I was wearing a two-piece swimsuit, more conservative than those I would wear when I was a few years older but still it left a lot of skin bare.

I tried again to work my hands loose but it was impossible. And even if I had, I doubt I could have gotten out of the sack. So I knew that I was helpless.

It was exciting. When I watched them walk away and knew that they would leave me alone for what might be hours, I felt a tingle race down my spine. And I got warm between the legs. I was a virgin then, but there were things that could get me hot between the legs even if I didn’t really know what was going on.

I rolled around and tried to fight my way out of the bag but couldn’t do a thing. I finally managed to roll across the patio and into the backyard where they were in the swimming pool. It was hard to crawl and I managed mostly by bending my legs up and then pushing against the ground with my knees. It must have taken me the better part of an hour to get all the way to the pool. They looked at me now and then but ignored me. When I got close enough to Karen, I asked her to please let me out of the sack because it was hot inside that canvass. I was not only in the hot sun, but I had been working hard inside and was sweating. Karen called to the boy whose house it was and told him that I wanted out. He laughed and said that he didn’t have the key to the lock so I’d just have to stay like that.

She told them that I was awfully hot in the sack, so the two boys came over and grabbed the top of the sack. Then they dragged me across the yard and into some bushes in the back corner. There they put me into a sitting position against the fence. There was a couple of feet of rope sticking out of the buckle, and they used that to tie my sack to the chain link fence. Then they left me.

It was better, because I was in the shadiest part of the yard. But I was out of sight and now tethered to the fence. I couldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t even roll over onto my side. I had to just sit there with my legs doubled up and the rough canvass against my skin.

I was left there for a couple hours. I didn’t mind it; in fact I enjoyed it. I struggled and tried to untie the ropes with my teeth. I figured I could crawl back to the pool and tease them for not securing me

properly. That’s the way the game was played. But the boy who tied the ropes figured I might try and he tied the knots higher than I could reach.

A year later, I was in the same yard swimming with Tom and playing that game that women do with the tops of their bikinis. I was lying on a towel and had untied the string on my top and let it lay to either side. I figured that sooner or later Tom would figure that he could splash me with water and that might, just might, make me jump up and he would get to see my bare breasts. You’ve probably had girls play that game with you. It’s supposed to be so you can get a tan without a line from the bikini, but it’s also because we like to tease boys.

Anyway, we were talking and I brought up the time that he had stuffed me into the mail sack. I asked him if he still had it. He said yes, and grinned. Being both a brazen hussy and more reckless than I should have been, I told him that it would be very, very interesting to be tied up and locked in that sack again. I could see the wheels going around in his mind. He was trying to figure out how he could get his hand inside my bikini if I was locked inside a canvass sack. So I told him that being tied and locked in the sack would be very interesting again, and if he would go to all the trouble of getting the ropes and sack, I would take my bikini off. He rushed off and was back in two minutes. I was already standing up with my young, firm breasts clearly in view.

I waited until he came up, and then slipped out of my bottom like it was no big thing. I was pretty excited and my nipples were very stiff. I could see from the bulge in his bathing suit that he was pretty excited, too. But I told him that he would have to promise not to touch my “private” parts or I wouldn’t let him tie me. I told him that his reward would be to see me naked, a wondrous sight that no other boy had ever seen before (lie!). He promised, so I turned around and crossed my wrists. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

He tied me the same as before, wrists crossed behind me, legs tied together at the ankles and above my knees. Then I sat down on a bench and he opened the sack so I could put my feet in. I sort of slid in while he held the sack open so that I was kneeling. He had to help me shift around until I was sitting down. I had grown, but the sack had not. It was a much tighter fit. I had to really pull myself into as

small a ball as I could so he could get the drawstring closed around my neck. Then he had to rush off to get a lock. It turned out to be a combination lock from his school locker. He seemed to not want to lock away my nudity, so I told him that he could leave me in the sack for two hours. Then, when he took me out and untied me, I would put on a little show for him, walking around like a fashion model and showing off my body for him to see.

I had a good figure then, not as well developed as it would become, but good. He locked the drawstring and promised not to unlock it for two hours. I then put on a show for him, struggling as hard as I could. I also moaned a lot, made facial expressions that were a bit overly dramatic, and teased the poor boy. It was sort of strange to be making Tom feel so horny and turned on while I was not only totally helpless but also covered up save for my head. It was sort of a sense of power. I have found that I get that feeling. I love bondage; I love being tied up. And I love the way men react to exhibitions of that love. You could say that I like “blowing men’s minds.”

Well, Tom did leave me tied up for two hours. I rolled around and put on a show, and enjoyed myself. That was only the sixth time I had made myself naked before a man and it was terribly exciting. Or was it the eighth?

When the time was up, he unlocked me and untied the ropes. Then I told him to sit down and I would show my body off. I did walk around like a model, and showed myself off. I liked doing that - still do. Any girl who says she doesn’t like teasing a man is a liar.

I must have made a sight. I was sweaty and had rope marks on my wrists and legs. Not rope burns, but the pressure marks from tight ropes. They take about ten minutes to go away, maybe fifteen if the ropes are tight enough. I teased him to the point where I began to be afraid that I might get raped by the huge bulge in his swimsuit. So I told him that he could “beat his meat” while I showed off. He whipped out his tool right away and was stroking it madly. I made poses for him, but found that what he seemed to like best was when I spread my legs, bent over and let him look at my bottom and pussy

from behind. I put my hands together behind me with the wrists together as if still tied, and wiggled my bottom like I was trying to get loose. A couple of seconds later he gasped and showered sperm all over the cement floor of the patio.

It was fascinating for me to watch. It was also the sense of power again, to be able to make a man do that. I had seen a boy masturbate once before and it was fascinating to see the white cum pump out. I knew that someday I would have that happening inside me, and the thought made my pussy very hot.

By the way, eventually Tom did get to have sex with me, but it was almost two years later. And it was in the same patio on a summer day. He was sitting on the bench; I had my hands tied behind me, and I backed up to him then settled myself down on his stiff rod. We had a good screw with me sort of sitting impaled on his rod while he bounced me up and down