Genesis of this story. Once again, I set out to write the perfect four-page story and end up droning on for many more than that. Sorry if it is too long and I apologize for any long windedness. Enjoy. If you want more, please rate and leave a message for me to that effect.
Note: Ordinary actions and dialogue are written as normal text.
Note:
Italics
in this story represent the internal THOUGHTS of one of the characters.
Note: This story is written in the first person, as seen from the point of view of a participant. This is incidentally the name of the story as well for reasons that will become clear.
FIRST PERSON - Chapter 1
I am Lisa.
Earlier in the night had been a one of those neighborhood girl's things. Wine, giggles and cards. Most of the women had gone home to husbands and kids about nine in the evening. The first person I met in the group was a neighbor from a couple blocks away and really my best friend amongst them. Her name was Mags. After they split, it left Mags and I to watch some TV and sip the remainder of the bottle. Mags was divorced with no kids and I was separated from my husband and my young teen son was spending two weeks down at my sister's in Florida. The husband and I were talking, but he was getting to be a gigantic asshole too often and I thought that we would probably do the big D soon ourselves when I reached the point that I could not bear to be around him anymore.
We watched a couple old
MacGyver
episodes on the TV interspersed with more wine, gabbing and knosh. Then one episode came on and it was this thing where the heroine was captured and tied up by the bad guys. I recall that half-watching I snorted contemptuously because they put like one piece of rope around her wrists and this rolled up bandana between her lips as a gag and she sat there for forty minutes like she was utterly helpless. Mags poked me and asked me what I was laughing at and I explained it was so silly that the girl was always grabbed and tied up in such a way that she could get loose in seconds if she really tried. I was a bit in my cups and ventured that only an airhead would be unable to get loose from bondage.
I remember Mags asking me if I was an expert escapologist or something and after some back and forth question and answer about tying people up I found myself in the absurd position of defending my statement that getting loose would be easy, the show was somehow degrading to the intelligence of women and that nothing could distract me from getting loose if I set my mind to it if I was tied up.
Mags was feeling mellow and wearing this knee length thin cotton skirt with a pair of narrow sash-like swaths of cloth that crisscrossed around the hip's - half as belts and half as color offsets. Nods to fashion, if the fashion was 1960 hippie. She unknotted one and pulled it off with a flourish.
"Big talker! Turn around." She said matter-of-factly holding it up. Her meaning was clear.
She has got to be kidding me!
I hesitated.
"Defend your thesis! Or do you think helpless little princesses really are helpless and are afraid to find out? Are you and anti-feminist pig?" Mags dug away at me.
It was dare and I was drunk enough to take it.
"Yeah sure!" I let my voice dripping with contempt. I would show how silly those shows were.
I turned my back to her.
She grabbed my wrists and pulled them back behind me. Crossing them. I felt the material of the sash around the wrists.
Holy crap! She is actually doing it! Tying me up!
In twenty seconds Mags already had them tied. Then she did something the snugged everything more. More cloth between my wrists somehow. Everything tightened further and I felt her fingers fiddling about... I assumed tying more knots or something.
I rolled my shoulders. I felt my hands tied fully and realized I might have bitten off more than I could chew here. I had only been tied a few times in my life and most of them were before I was eleven. This certainly felt better tied and way more secure than I remembered as a kid.
"There...!" Mags said tapping me on the shoulder. "Your wrists are tied."
I tugged on them. Feeling the welded together with cloth behind my back. The cloth gripped them. Tugged them together. Almost involuntarily I lifted them higher. They only felt snugger. She had wrapped cloth around them bit on my wrists, then more between my wrists.
Holy crap! Holy crap! My hands are tied up!
I yanked and pulled lifting them almost to my shoulder blades. The cloth of the sashes squeezed tighter with each move away from the base of my spine... but they were certainly not coming loose.
"Mags!" I said a bit uncertainly. Weirded out by what was going on suddenly.
She laughed at me.
"Got you tied up, don't I? C'mon princess! Girls can't be held with just a little piece of rope or something! That's what you said. They can get loose if they want too... right?" She threw my words back in my face pushing playfully on my shoulder.
I yanked and pulled, holding my wrists out where I could see them by my side. Straining my fingers to reach a knot I could see. I almost got my fingertips on one, but she had tied it tight. It would take a lot of straining to reach it and work it loose.
I heard Mags laugh and then felt something around my arm above my elbow back there. A tightening followed immediately.
"Mags! What are you...?"
"Am I what?" She sounded complacent. As if she was going to break out in a whistle as she worked. "What are you worried about? You can always get loose... Right?"
The whole time she was pulling something tighter around my upper arm.
Goddamit! What the hell?
I pulled on my wrists back there.
