I had known Kirstie, my eleven year old daughter, liked bondage for some time. Of course, she didn't know that was what it was: she simply called it tying up.

I'm not quite sure how the idea first came to her but I always reckon that things like this are in everybody to some degree - most people just never get round to recognizing it. There must have been stuff on TV which triggered it though I guess as a mom I should have been a bit more careful what she was exposed to growing up. But as single working mom I couldn't watch everything she watched.

Still, I figured kids TV wasn't all that bad for her and if I was ever aware there was the odd bit of tying up going on with the heroines and villains it was a lot better than murder. What surprised me was how much of an impact all this ropework had on her. Three times I found her in her bedroom, lying on her bed, trying (without much success) to tie herself up.

First time I thought she was simply tangled up in some rope. Second and third time I could see exactly what she was trying to do. Thing was, she didn't seem too bothered by me discovering her.

Now before you start calling her weird, there's something you should know: Kirstie is a very bubbly, lovable little girl. She might not have a father around the place but she is kind, helpful, supportive and good fun. She has friends, is good at school and enjoys all sorts of healthy activities. However the one thing she enjoyed most was the one thing I felt at a loss with.

It was the third time that I found her, lying on her bed, with lots of ropes round her legs and more wound round her body and some sort of arrangement on her wrists that shocked me. Not the fact she had tied herself up, but more that she seemed so desperate that even my coming into her room didn't make her stop. I was also shocked that she had tied a scarf across her lips as a kind of gag.

'Kirstie,' I had said, standing in the doorway, 'What are you doing?'

'Tying myself up, mom,' said my daughter through her makeshift and none too effective gag. 'Trying to, anyhow.'

'Well, you mustn't,' I said, reaching for the mess of ropes round her arms - most of which looked loose.

'Ow, Mom!' she squealed, trying to avoid my hands. 'I haven't finished.'

'Yes you have, young lady,' I said. I wasn't sure why I being angry: she hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, it looked more pathetic than dangerous - she couldn't have hurt herself.

Kirstie didn't move as I pulled the ropes off her but she did ask; 'Will you tie me up, mom, please?'

'No!' I said. 'This is silly. Now, once you are out of these things you can put the ropes in the trash can and tidy this room up.'

Kirstie did what she was told but the idea clearly hadn't gone out of her mind. Later that evening, she asked me again, and again. Every time I said no it seemed to redouble her desire. 'I know you won't hurt me, mom,' she said, pleadingly, 'and there's no one else to do it.'

'I'm very glad to hear it. The answer however is still no.' I hesitated wondering how to put her off this crazy idea. 'When you are 21 you can do whatever you want, but until then you do what I say, Kirstie Louise Givens.' Giving her all of her names was my way of showing the matter was closed. For once, I was wrong.

Kirstie Louise Givens had other ideas. 'Twenty one? That's ten years away,' she pouted. 'But you might not want to tie me up then.'

'I don't want to tie you or anyone else up now.'

'But when I'm twenty one, I can do what I want, right?' I could tell she had that far off look in her eyes, as if she was planning something, however distant it was.

I took a gamble. 'Kirstie, this isn't healthy and I think you should forget it. You could get hurt and -'

'Not If it's done properly, mom!' she interrupted and I glared at her to be silent. She pouted at me.

I sighed. 'Okay, I'll show you what problems it causes. Tomorrow I'll show you something that will change your mind. Then perhaps we can get back to being normal.'

Kirstie grinned at me and I just hoped my gamble would work because, basically, I hadn't got a clue.

---

On the way home from work I found a sex store - well, strictly speaking I'd known it was there for years but I'd never been in and never planned to, until now. The people in the store looked at me in a curious way when I went in and the guy who owned the place nodded as I picked up two bondage magazines without really looking at them. I was aware one was called 'Busty Babes Begging for Bondage' and the other had a more restrained (if that was the word) title of 'Tighter.' I had no idea what was in them except there would be enough evidence to shock Kirstie out of her fantasies.

'These for you?' the guy asked me as I paid.

I almost said, 'No, of course not! They're for my daughter,' but stopped myself in time. 'A friend,' I smiled weakly, and fled with them, face burning with embarrassment.

I wasn't quite sure I was over the shock of that near gaffe that evening but Kirstie was intrigued as I dropped the two magazines in front of her straight after we had eaten.

'See?' I said with a smirk. 'That's what happens to young women who think they like being tied up.'

'Wow,' said my daughter as she picked up the Tighter magazine. I should really have taken it off her then and there as clearly she was far too intrigued by all the pages of pictures to respond in the way I wanted. But I wanted her to see how these sluts were being treated.

Trouble was, they didn't look like sluts. Most of them I could tell were - and I hated to say it - women about my age. They were photographed in homes like ours, in sitting rooms and bedrooms (and even some in a kitchen) like ours. If I thought the sight of a young woman bound to a chair or across a bed would cause Kirstie to be revolted, I was completely wrong. My eleven year old daughter's eyes were positively shining.

For a moment I thought I had won when she said; 'Mom... I can't believe it... these picture are...'

I thought: go on, say it: terrible. Bad. Demeaning. Horrible. I'd even have settled for a 'Yuk!' The word she used however was: 'Wonderful.'

My heart sank. She was entranced by them, leafing through the pages as if a whole new world had been opened up to her. It had of course, and I'd done it.

'So this means we can do it, huh?' she asked with that appealing grin she has. 'Like this one. It says her name's Kelly and she's hot for bondage. What's that mom?'

'Bondage is tying up,' I said, feeling my face flush. 'I doubt her name's Kelly. They make these names up. No one's hot for it. They earn money for it, that's all.' As soon as I said it I wished I hadn't.

'These women get paid to be tied up? Wow,' she whistled. 'That's great.'

'No it's not Kirstie,' I said, taking the magazine off her and snapping it shut. 'They're hookers, that's all!'

'The one that says she's Veronica looks like my teacher, Miss Marten. Exactly the same,' said Kirstie looking at the magazine in my hand.

'Nonsense,' I growled, flicking it open. The pages devoted to Veronica fell open. 'See, she's not at all...' I hesitated. The woman called Veronica was the spitting image of Miss Marten. Veronica Marten, as I remembered from meeting her at the start of the grade. 'Oh shit,' I whispered. Surely it was just an incredible coincidence.

Kirstie had picked up the second magazine and in Busty Babes I had no doubt there were hookers. Yet my daughter wasn't looking at faces or waistlines or wide hips or the fact that most of them had large breasts (most of which were bound in some fashion) but in the vast variety of ways they were tied.

I was aware of her voice, enthusing; 'Gee mom, see, a real hogtie!' I felt sick as I looked at the picture she was studying: a blonde was on her front on a table, her hands bound to her ankles in what these magazines called a classic hogtie, forcing her head up and giving the viewer a good view of her large bust. The next picture was almost identical but the woman was gagged with a large red object, black strap round her head.

'It's a ball gag!' said Kirstie, like it was Christmas. 'Oh, mom, she's hogtied and ballgagged. Isn't that great?'

I shook my head but couldn't think what to say. Kirstie was enjoying this way too much.

'Can we do it, mom? Will you tie me up like her?'

I stared at my daughter. This had gone too far. It was time therefore to show that this was anything but fun, that there was no pleasure in it. I was her mom and it was time to call a halt. 'Okay, Kirstie,' I said grimly. 'Let's find out, shall we?'

She looked at me, half in disbelief and half in terror as as I said: 'Go and fetch that rope from the trash.'

---

Kirstie was shaking slightly as I finished tying her small hands behind her back, crossing the ropes around her thin wrists and tying it off tightly. My daughter was probably a little cold: I had made her remove all her outer clothes before I started binding her. She was shivering, standing in front of me in just her vest, pants and white ankle socks.

Strange thing was I couldn't decide if I had made her strip because I wanted her to feel humiliated by what I was doing to her or because - like seeing all those women bound in those two magazines I'd bought - most females ended up in their underwear when they were bound. Maybe it was just the natural way of these things.

Kirstie didn't have black lace underwear like so many of the partially clothed women in the magazines - she didn't need a bra yet and I always bought her sensible underpants. But seeing her in her plain underclothes made it seem more sick, somehow. That was what I was after, so she'd be revolted.

Still, I didn't want to hurt her. I wanted her to see how foolish it was to want to be bound, even by someone as loving as her own mom. 'You okay, honey?' I asked, confident she would say something like, 'No!'

Instead, she confounded me by saying: 'Oh yeah, mom. Great.'

'You don't mind this?' I gave the knot at her crossed wrists another tug to tighten it before cinching it off (I'd already learned from looking at the photos in the magazines). She caught her breath and I thought good, this is the first sign of realization of helplessness.

'No, it's great mom,' she sighed. 'I didn't think it would be this good.'

'Well, it isn't good,' I said as menacingly as I could. Yet I should have saved my breath: Kirstie was grinning at me over her shoulder, clearly enjoying it. She hadn't understood yet there was meant to be a second realization of helplessness.

'You're not going to stop there, are you?' My daughter pleaded.

'No, sweetie. I want you to find out just how stupid this is.' I gestured at the magazine lying open in front of us, at the picture of the woman bound hogtied to the table. 'You are going to climb on the table and be bound like this.'

'Oh mom, wow,' she said. I thought: was that Ow? or Wow?

I had a feeling she wasn't taking this quite the way I intended. But there again, it was early days. I was sure if I tied her like the hooker in the magazine spread she'd soon be crying for release. I nodded at the coffee table. 'So, go on, girl. Go get on the table.'

Kirstie obliged without hesitation. I thought; usually she argues about things but she seems so eager to please. I checked myself as I watched her settle on to her front like the heavy breasted woman in the picture. Without thinking about it she had immediately dragged her bound wrists back herself towards her ankles, which she had lifted up towards her small, round butt. She'd even raised her head and though her little chest was of course quite smooth, unlike the punished woman, she looked cute and helpless even like that.

I checked myself again. Did I say cute? I couldn't mean it; Kirstie was cute as my daughter, not as some bondage toy. And what did I mean, punished woman? Shit, I was entering into the thinking and language already of these obscene, perverted magazines. I was angry with myself and decided to untie Kirstie then and there but as I reached for her tied wrists I stopped myself: I had said I wanted her to really dislike the whole thing and stopping now might give her the idea it would be better than it was.

I picked up another length of the rope and wound it round my daughter's ankles, crossing them as the woman in the photo had her ankles crossed (stockinged ankles of course, not in such pretty white socks as Kirstie wore) and then wound the rope round Kirstie's bound wrists, drawing them back to meet her ankles. I felt a little surge of joy that my daughter gave a gasp, a sort of stifled moan. Good, I thought, this is where she says: 'No more, please,' but she didn't. She sighed deeply and wriggled a little but not in any great distress.

I tightened the cinch and slipped round to look into her eyes. 'Hurts, doesn't it?' I asked, looking at her slightly creased face.

'Yeah. It's great,' she said, a happy note in her voice. 'I can hardly move.'

Two instant feelings hit me. First, I was disappointed she wasn't begging for me to stop and second, she had said she could hardly move. Hell... I was supposed to be binding her so tight she couldn't move at all. I looked at her hands and could see there was no way she could get free. I checked the magazine on the floor by my knees and understood that the woman had her upper arms bound with the rope running across her chest and shoulders. It was of course completely unnecessary but maybe it did restrict the subject further. So, if that was the way it had to be then so be it.

'Okay, have it your way,' I grunted and picked up the last length of rope. There wasn't much of it but I managed to get a couple of strands round Kirstie's thin upper arms, once over her chest and up over her shoulders. As I tightened it there was the surprisingly satisfying sight of the girl's shoulders moving together and the sound of her groaning under the strain.

I wanted to ask again if she was okay but I thought it better not to - after all, this was her supposed interest so why should I care? She could just lie there for a while and start begging to be set free. I stood up, satisfied that no one could have done a better job of tying a girl like I had.

'Mom,' said Kirstie, almost begging. 'Please?'

I smiled. It was all too easy after all. I had won. 'Yes dear, anything wrong?' I smirked.

'Yeah... the gag. You forgot the gag.'

I stared down at Kirstie in her hogtie. She was trying to twist her head to look up at me and though she was clearly in some discomfort she looked happier than I'd seen her in ages. I squatted down and looked into her eyes, determined to have the last word. 'You know what you are saying?' I said sternly, trying to show I didn't care. 'If I gag you, you can't ask to be released. You lie there quietly until I release you and that could be ages.'

Kirstie groaned but was smiling. 'Wow mom, that's... uh, always what I wanted.'

I felt annoyed at her response, so I changed approach. 'Honey. I haven't got a gag for you.'

'Yes,' she breathed. 'You have. Your pantyhose.'

'What?' I was astonished she was thinking like this, even now.

'Easy. Just take them off, ball them into my mouth and tie it off with the legs... round my head,' she was gasping but not in distress. 'Go on.... mom, please. Like in the magazine.'

I nodded dumbly. She was right. one of the pictures had showed a woman gagging another female that way. I flicked to the page and stared at it, aware my daughter was staring at it too.

'But,' I objected, feeling distinctly unsure about this. 'I'm wearing them. They'll be all...' I couldn't think of the right words to describe having had them on since this morning.

'They will be fine... Honest, mom,' gasped Kirstie.

I stood and feeling annoyed, I could end this here and now, send her to her room. Ground her for a week. That would show her who was boss.

But Kirstie was looking up at me, her big pleading eyes on mine. 'Okay,' I grunted, hitched my skirt and slid my pantyhose down, kicking them off. I considered waving them under her nose to show her how disgusting the idea was but she probably needed to find out for herself the hard way.

Anyway, I was determined not to let Kirstie win this one. I rolled the pants part of my pantyhose into a tight ball and pushed them into her open mouth, tying the legs off behind her head. She made a new, deeper groaning sound like this was some sort of pleasure, which I doubted. Better still, the legs of the pantyhose had plenty left so I hauled the toes of them to meet her bound wrists and tied them there as well. The effect was of course to drag her head up and back and make her stare ahead.

I felt sick and angry and strangely triumphant. I had succeeded in reducing Kirstie to a helpless, immobile prisoner. I had won and now she could start to squirm and beg into her gag all she wanted because I damn well didn't care. 'Comfortable?' I sneered.

She gave the merest nod and made this grunting noise. Not quite begging but it was a start.

'Want me to untie you?' Her response was a shake of the head as best she could. 'Good,' I laughed, glancing at my watch, 'because you've got exactly one hour to realize this is all bad for you.'

'Mmm Nnnnnth,' said my eleven year old daughter, closing her eyes.

I ran my hands over her bound shoulders, wrists, ankles and even her gag. She had ruined my pantyhose but it was a small price to pay for this.

I stood up and took the bondage magazines over to the sofa where I could comfortably watch Kirstie's struggles, listen to her gag-suppressed pleas and just enjoy the whole thing. I began leafing through the magazines, studying the photos, reading odd pieces of text and especially working my way through the lengthy Reader's Letters sections - all fantasy of course, all made up by perverts or jaded journalists.

No one behaves this way, do they. Then it struck me: I behaved this way. I had tied my daughter up, tight. Gagged her too, with my soiled pantyhose.

But the feeling in me was that I had actually enjoyed it. Behind the magazine I blushed and felt something quicken in me.

I shouldn't be doing this: I was as bad as all these people in the magazines, making money from it, pretending to like it. It was sick. I wriggled on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable as I looked at the magazine in front of me. I glanced up at my daughter, hogtied on the table. My discomfort was growing, especially between my legs, which was weird. I wriggled a bit more and stared at Kirstie, staring ahead, bound and gagged by me. This feeling in me...

Hell, I gasped as I realized what it was. I was being turned by all this.

My hand was between my legs. It shouldn't have been. I shouldn't have drawn my knees up so my skirt fell back, exposing my pantied crotch, already wet with excitement. My free hand brushed it, felt the dampness. A burst of sexual pleasure fizzed through me, like a skyrocket.

My hand shouldn't have dived inside my panties, into my muff, I know. I was holding the magazine so I could see it - the pictures of the large breasted young woman bound to a chair, legs apart, her shaved cunt glistening - and where I could see Kirstie struggling in her ropes. I didn't know if she could see what I was doing but she could probably smell it, but I didn't care. Not now I was so excited, diddling my clit.

Kirstie was groaning into her gag and I was groaning, biting my lip to try and keep me quiet as my fingers danced, slid and plowed into me.

'Kirstie-' I began to gasp.

I was so caught up in what I was doing that I wasn't aware of anything else. Guess that's how people get caught: they just are totally into whatever they're doing. I was masturbating like crazy, watching Kirstie wriggle in her bonds, looking kinda shocked for some reason, not at me but staring towards the door.

My friend Judy and her daughter Sandee had just walked into the room. I remember hearing them a split-second before I saw them: one of them, the girl I think, gave a small gasp. I spun my head, horrified to be seen like this, to have me and Kirstie found this way. For what seemed an eternity but I guess was only a couple of seconds, I just sat, legs wide apart, hands planted on my wet cunny.

I managed to say something really intelligent like, 'Uh, Judy... Sandee...' before the two of them turned and fled. They were gone before I could pull down my skirt, drop the magazine and catch them up, before I could explain that this wasn't some sort of nightmare.

Though it sure must have looked that way.

They'd gone, so I went back into the living room and regarded my daughter. She wasn't wriggling like she had. In fact, she seemed quite calm. I wondered what to do: my instinct was to free Kirstie but three things stopped me. One, the damage was done and we had been seen. Two, I needed time to think. Three - probably the most important - I had promised Kirstie an hour of bondage and there was still fifty minutes to go.

I sat down on the sofa, gave my daughter a weak smile and with a strange feeling in me, slowly resumed my masturbation. I was ashamed and excited, humiliated and aroused. And that incredible feeling in my snatch hadn't quite disappeared.

---

Judy waved my objections aside. 'It's okay, really,' she said with a non-committal shrug, not looking in my direction. 'You're Kirstie's mom and whatever you say goes -'

'That makes it sound like I want this!' I felt so frustrated, trying to explain what she had seen wasn't what she thought. 'I was trying to put Kirstie off it all. It's what she said she wants to do. Not me!'

We were standing in Judy Garrett's kitchen, the kids at school and her husband at work. It had been three days since she had stepped into my living room with her daughter Sandee and saw Kirstie and I. Caught us, I guess. In the intervening time I had spoke to her twice on the phone but couldn't bring myself to discuss it. Any explanation had to be done face to face. Trouble was that even twelve years friendship between us - before we had our kids - didn't seem adequate grounding for what had to be said. Now I was trying I felt I wasn't getting anywhere.

Judy, her back half to me, shrugged again. 'I know how hard it is for you, having to cope on your own since Paul left you.'

'You don't know what it's like! Judy, it isn't anything to do with him going or being a single mom,' I paused. 'Anyway, your husband's out playing golf most weekends,' I was on the defensive and I snapped. 'I'm no - I'm not some twisted pervert!'

My friend Judy, smaller than me but with jet black hair, hadn't really looked at me since I had started talking to her about it but finally she did. 'I didn't say you were. But it was, um, odd, seeing Kirstie like that and you -' She let her words fall away, so I finished her sentence off for her.

'Diddling. Masturbating. Playing with myself.' I felt myself color up. 'I didn't mean to. It was those magazines. Just all those pictures.'

Judy looked uncomfortable. 'And Kirstie?'

'No! I don't get off on seeing my daughter trussed up like some chicken!'

The small, dark haired woman gave me the merest smile, almost apologetic. Her voice was barely above a whisper. 'But I did.'

'Excuse me?'

My friend gestured helplessly, her face flushed. 'I couldn't get it out of my mind. After I got Sandee home and told you and Kirstie were playing a game I tried to do dinner, but I just couldn't forget what I had seen. You're going to think me weird but I went into my room and just had to bring myself off. Shit, it felt weird being that hot over seeing a small girl tied up. Crazy. I'd never even thought anything like that was, you know, erotic.'

I started to say it wasn't but that was stupid. I'd had my hand between my legs when Judy and Sandee came in because I found it erotic then. What had worried me was that I carried on finding it erotic. So much so I had resorted each night to diddling myself, going over it in my mind, replaying the bondage, the looks Kirstie gave me. Oh, and I still had the two magazines.

'Judy, I don't what to say -' I began.

'Don't say anything. So what we going to do about it?' Judy was looking at me intently.

'I don't know what there is to do about it,' I said, unconvincingly.

'You still tie Kirstie up, right?'

'No! I told her she'd learned her lesson. No more tying up. No matter how much she begs.'

'She begs?' Judy stared at me, eyes wide. 'Kirstie still wants to be tied up?'

I nodded. There had hardly been a moment when my daughter hadn't asked to be bound and gagged like before, or like some other position in the magazines. 'But, I'm not going to,' I said quietly. 'It's wrong.'

'So if you don't, then who's going to tie her up?'

I shot a look of horror at my friend, standing arms folded as if holding herself in. 'No one!' I spluttered.

'But someone will. If you don't, now she knows what it's like to be bound and gagged, she'll find someone else. Maybe some guy, some old man who will do it.'

'No way! I wouldn't allow it.' I felt myself flush. It was a crazy thing to say. How would I know until it was too late? I'd never know until some major damage had been done.

'You have to make sure she doesn't go anywhere else,' said Judy. 'I wouldn't let Sandee go anywhere else to be tied up. It would have to be here, with me, at home.'

I wasn't sure I was hearing this right. 'Sandee? You'd tie her up - here?'

It was Judy's turn to blush. 'I didn't mean it like that.'

'But you did. You said it would be here.' I suddenly felt bolder. 'Has Sandee said anything about Kirstie and me? Has she asked to be tied up?'

'No - well, we talked about it, sure, on the way home. She wanted to know what game you were playing. I said it was like a secret game. Only moms and daughters, help them get to know about stuff.'

'Stuff?'

Judy didn't quite know what to say. 'I mean - you know, exploring feelings. She wanted to know how it felt too.'

I stared at my friend. 'How-what-felt' was forming on my lips but before I got the question out, Judy spoke. 'I wouldn't hurt her,' she said firmly.

'Hurt how?'

Judy shrugged, blushing. 'You know... But I didn't have much rope.'

'Y-You tied her up?' I was astonished and my heart was thumping hard too.

'Not tied her up like you did, of course not. Just a simple cord round her wrists and ankles. I told her to sit in a chair,' she nodded at the dining table, 'just so she could find out.'

'Go on.' I was astonished at what was going on, how excited I felt. How glad it was more than just me and Kirstie.

'That's it.' Judy paused. 'She sat there for a few minutes, said she could escape. So I found a couple of belts and tied her arms to the chair back, and her knees together. She said it hurt, that it was too tight.' Judy flushed a little more. 'So I told her to be quiet.'

'You gagged her.' I grinned.

'Not a real gag.' Judy looked at me earnestly. 'Just one of those you see on TV, just a scarf in the mouth.'

'Did it work?'

'Not really, but I guess it wasn't meant to. I wasn't, you know, trying to punish her or anything.'

I shook my head. Not because I disagreed but because I had no idea anyone else would want to find out any of this. I never figured Judy for some sex crazed woman, but there again I didn't see that in me either. Or in our kids. This bondage was just something we were trying. An experiment, like some sort of social education. I said that, to make Judy feel better and she nodded.

'Judy - does Dan know? You spoke to him about it?' I was hoping she'd say no, that it was a woman-only thing. Or more accurately, mom-to-daughter.

'Dan wouldn't be interested,' said Judy. her way of saying she hadn't raised the matter with him. I always figured, nice guy though her husband was, he never went in for anything interesting. Accountancy, cleaning the car and golf. That was about it with Dan. I was relieved Judy had kept it to herself and Sandee.

'Those magazines you had,' said Judy, trying to sound casual. 'I guess you got rid of them.'

'Of course.' I lied. They were safe and well hidden. I told Kirstie I had thrown them out after our session, that no one in their right mind needed anything like that around. I added, casually, 'You can buy them. Sex stores have lots.'

Judy blushed red. 'I couldn't go in places like that. Not all those men watching me.'

'People,' I corrected. 'Place I went there were women in there too. Couples. But you want to buy one of these magazines. Or a video?'

Judy shrugged, avoiding my eyes. 'I don't know. I figure I ought to see what's in them. Check out if they are a danger to Sandee. Keep a couple in case she asks again.'

'Has she asked again?'

'Not really. Well, once. Last night. There was this show on TV and she called me in to see it. There was the hero untying this woman. Darndest thing was Sandee said, 'Look mom, she wasn't tied as well as me and her gag won't keep her quiet.' Then she asked me, 'Next time you gag me will you make sure it keeps me quiet?' I said, sure honey, just to keep her happy. Later on, when she went to bed, she asked again about being gagged properly. I didn't know what to say.'

'You tell her about ball gags?'

What? Oh no. I wouldn't want to hurt her.' Judy flushed anew and waved the memory away. 'Guess it doesn't matter.'

'It doesn't have to hurt her,' I said, taking control but trying to stay calm. 'A proper ball gag would keep her quiet. I was thinking of getting one for Kirstie.' It wasn't true in that I hadn't thought I would get one until right that moment, but I had gone to sleep each night thinking how she would look with her mouth full with a red rubber ball, her big eyes looking so appealing. Even thinking of it now sent a little buzz through me.

'So - you want to tie Kirstie up again. I thought you didn't want to do that stuff any more?'

I squirmed. I had got myself into a corner. 'W-well, of course not, though p-perhaps,' I stammered. 'I mean, only if she wanted it.'

Judy smiled, a look of relief of her face. 'I'm glad you want to tie Kirstie up. Sometimes I'm desperate to have Sandee trussed up again.' She paused, an excited look in her eyes. 'I just don't know where to start.'

'Tie her hands behind her back?' I joked.

Judy laughed but added, 'I mean, where do I go for the stuff?'

I took a deep breath. 'We should go over to that store so you can see some stuff, like those magazines. Truth is, though I didn't like the place much I went to last time.'

Judy nodded. 'Then how about the one over on Seventh?'

I looked at her, puzzled.

Judy nodded enthusiastically. 'I go past it some days. Place looks new, and clean. And I mean, if I don't like it - or you - we can leave, right?'

'Of course,' I said, picking up my car keys. 'I'll drive.'

---

I don't know what Judy thought the store on Seventh would be like inside but the store was better than the one I'd been to earlier. Judy looked nervous as we entered: maybe she thought the place would be full of danger but it was the cleanliness and neatness of everything that had struck me at first and I could see she felt the same as soon as we got inside. It was bright and well laid out, not too crowded and no one seemed interested in us at all. It helped that instead of a man behind the sales counter there was a woman - a married woman old enough to have kids herself.

I made Judy look at the displays of magazines and videos. I was astonished there were so many and I guess she was too. We settled on buying three magazines (two for her) and a video we'd share. The video was called 'Plaything Bondage at Home' and had a cover shot of a young woman, barely 18 I guessed, tied to a kitchen chair. We both figured the homeliness of the bondage was the best part: the dungeons and torture stuff was too silly or uncomfortable and the rape stuff was a complete no. Bondage for us was about willingness and acceptability, not subjugation.

We also took time to look at the display of chains and whips and straps but we weren't enthusiastic about that kind of stuff. I think the woman behind the counter recognized our level of interest when we took the magazines and video over to pay for them.

'You prefer the cosy situation, right?' she smiled as she bagged our purchases. 'So many of our female customers do, The violent bondage stuff is a male fantasy.'

Judy looked intrigued. 'You have women customers?'

'Just like you,' smiled the woman, whose name badge said she was called Carla. 'Bondage is very popular for all sorts of couples.'

I wasn't sure if Judy fully understood but I laughed it off. 'No, we we're not gay. We don't get off on tying each other up. My friend and I have families.'

Carla grinned. 'Family tie ups huh? Great. Who gets to be tied? Husband, mom-in-law or the kids?'

Judy's jaw dropped. 'How did you know?' she blurted.

The sales clerk laughed. 'Oh, we get lots of families in here who want to tie their kids up. The kids like it too. We sell plenty of these.' The woman reached under the counter and brought out a small red rubber ball gag. 'Children's size,' she said. 'Adult ball gags are too big mostly. No one wants to see their sons or daughters hurt even if they do like them quiet.'

I nodded, picking up the gag. Jenny said: 'We do them with head harnesses too or as you can see here just the simple head strap. We also sell kiddie sized soft lined cuffs for wrists and ankles if you are into chaining them, or small size collars.'

'I had no idea,' said Judy, gulping as she took it from me and examined it herself. 'I don't suppose you have one of those?' She pointed to the display of bondage devices on the wall and the single sleeve, complete with straps and padlocks.

'Sure. What age? We do them from about four to nine and ten to fifteen. After that most kids can wear the adult size buckled tight.'

'You have kids?' asked Judy.

'Sure,' said the clerk, 'and yes, before you ask, I tie them up at home. My eldest, Dean, is fifteen now. We started tying him up when he was eight. His sister Letitia is thirteen now - she was first trussed up when she was nine. Not sure why we waited so long for her. She can't enough of it. In fact,' the woman checked her watch,' she'll be with her grandparents right now and no doubt tied to something.'

'Your parents?' I asked incredulously. 'They tie up your kids?'

'Sure. They did it to me when I was a kid and they like to carry on these family traditions.'

'Do they still tie you up?' I asked, my heart beating hard.

Jenny gave a laugh. 'Sometimes, when I let them. Mostly they prefer the children trussed up and so do their father and I!'

Judy then surprised me: 'We tie our daughters up,' she announced, blushing a little. 'But we're not experts.'

'You don't have to be, though a little guidance helps. The important thing is you do it to the kids. Children should be bound and gagged,' said Carla as if such things were natural. 'But if you aren't confident yet you might like to look at this video.' She reached under the counter and brought a plain box marked 'Family Togetherness Bondage'. She put it before us. 'We can't have this on display as it involves bondage for minors, though it is family stuff and no sex or torture. Just families in bondage: mom, dad, aunts, uncles, grandparents and of course kids - lots of them.

'I like this video: there's one scene with eleven different members of three generations of the same family all bound and gagged in their living room. What's great is how happy they look, especially grandma and the youngest girl, who has to be about seven: they're bound face to face!' The woman smiled and confided: 'There's even a few scenes of my sister's kids, Jolie and Lennie, out on a bondage nature hike with their folks. Look out for the bit where Jolie and Lennie get to be bound either side of a tree while dad goes off fishing.'

'We'll take it,' I said firmly, feeling a buzz between my legs. 'Along with two small girl sized ball gags. Well, suitable for eleven year olds.'

The woman smiled and selected two red ball gags, slightly larger than the one she had shown us. As she bagged those, I asked: 'Do you get new stuff coming in, for tying kids up?'

'All the time,' she said. 'But you're new to this, right? If so, I'd recommend this book to start you off.' She produced a slim softback book, called 'A parent's guide to loving tie ups'. I flicked through it: there were diagrams and photos and I got the feeling it was written with love in mind. 'The advice is good,' said the woman. 'Things like choosing the right sort of rope, type of knots, how long they should be gagged, suspension tips, even how to knit bondage mittens for the very young. I especially like the part on having a kids' bondage party - how they should be tied, games they can play while gagged and so on.'

Needless to say, we took the video, book, gags and several lengths of good, soft rope on Jenny's recommendation. 'It's so important they enjoy being bound,' advised the woman as we left the store. 'Just make sure you enjoy it too.'

We nodded, smiled our thanks and left.

Back in the car, Judy looked hot and bothered. 'Uh, Jeez,' she gasped. 'I haven't been so hot since... well, I guess it was my first real fucking.'

'Real fucking? Um, as opposed to what?'

My friend waved her hand, dismissing my point. 'The kids who tried to screw me, when I was fifteen, didn't know what they were doing. I had to wait till Josh Kinmer came along. Now, he had real technique...'

I laughed. I'd never heard Judy talk like this before. Then I got serious. 'You want to do something about the feeling in your twat?'

Judy looked at me with a smirk. 'I'd rather wait till we get to watch the video tape.'

I looked at my friend earnestly. 'Guess we're gonna do this, right?'

'Too right,' she breathed.

---

Heaven knows how many times Judy and I came, watching the video at her place. I guess we could have gone on all day but Judy called a halt at our third viewing and, by my reckoning, my eighth orgasm. It was a good idea as the room smelled like a brothel on heat as we had abandoned any modesty and shed our panties so we could get our hands deep into ourselves.

Note the ourselves bit: as much as I liked Judy I didn't want to put my hand inside her sex. Well, not just yet.

So we sat on the couch in front of the TV and diddled ourselves and moaned and commented on the tape. I don't think I'd ever have much fun as that and Judy said the same. We knew that her husband Dan wouldn't be home for a good few hours so we were safe.

'But we have to stop. We have to get ready,' she said as she straightened her skirt and turned the video off - just before the part where two small girls get tied up in the family attic, back to back with their little arms threaded through each other's.

Reluctantly I agreed. Women aren't supposed to get off on porn and though they get aroused perhaps they don't get turned on by images of sex quite like men do. But this movie of children and families all trussed up was electrifying. I could have gone on fingering myself for a week.

I smoothed my skirt down and helped open a window or two.

'Now,' said Judy seriously. 'We have to get the girls bound, right?'

I nodded. 'You think maybe we should wait? Get them to think about it?'

Judy shook her head. 'You say Kirstie's already thought about it a lot and I reckon Sandee has. Plus, I hate to say it, but I like the surprise bit. Y'know, the part in the movie where that boy and girl walk into the house not knowing their mom 'n' dad are going to bind them?'

I nodded, feeling aroused.

Judy continued, clearly excited herself. 'And the parents just haul the kids down, bend them over the table and tie them so damn tight...'

My cunny was swiftly reaching boiling point again. 'Judy, I'm sorry, I just have to frig myself again.' I lifted the hem of my skirt and moved my hand up. 'it's that thought of them being surprised and tied.'

'I know,' sympathized my friend. 'But... let me do it for you.'

I stared at Judy. I had always liked her, thought her smart and attractive and fun. Now she wanted to finger me. She wanted me, like I did in my fantasies about her. My head swam. I looked at her, and then down at me. I shifted my hands so I was holding my skirt up, the fresh air on my sex. Judy smirked and stepped up to me, sliding two fingers straight up into my cunt. It made a satisfying wet squishy sound.

'Wow,' I gasped as she probed deep. 'Uh, y-you've done this before.'

'Sure,' she smiled and gave me a little kiss on my lips. She had found my clit and was rubbing it good. 'But not to you.'

I came like an express train, knees weak, heart thundering and with my juices running over Judy's hand. 'Oh, honey! Uh, maybe the kids can wait -' I started.

'No, the kids will be tied up. Then they won't interrupt us for whatever we want to do to each other.'

---

I don't know which of the girls looked more surprised when they arrived together from school. One moment they were laughing and chattering, the next they were pinned to the floor, ball gags in mouths and hands tied tight behind their backs.

Judy and I had it worked out: gags first as we sat on them, hands second, ankles (and knees) third. Lastly we tied their elbows. I'm not sure the loving tie-ups theory was much in evidence, but what we did was effective. Judy had said, and I couldn't disagree, that we loved the kids so we qualified - even if we had hauled their elbows tight behind their backs until they squealed into their gags.

Kirstie and Sandee lay on the kitchen floor, writhing as if they wanted to get free. Maybe they did but it wasn't going to happen soon.

'Hogtie,' I said and Judy looked at me. 'Like I did on Kirstie when you came in, remember. We've got enough rope.'

My friend grinned and followed my example, except I did it on her daughter and she did it on mine. In a few moments we had their hands tied tight to their ankles. It cut down their wriggling dramatically.

We carried Sandee through to the living room first and put her on the couch and then went back for my daughter, positioning her on the floor by the sofa. The drapes were drawn so no one could look in and see them and the room was cool. I was surprised how they'd given up struggling. I had seen something in the book we got that most kids surrender with elbows and hands tied, like it took most of their energy away.

Either that or they were enjoying being bound. But as they were gagged, we couldn't ask them.

Judy had made two blindfolds from some old material and carefully put them on the girls. Although they had been making small movements, the blindfolds quieted them completely. Kirstie made some vague noises but they weren't sobbing, so we figured we had done a good job.

I stroked both girls' hair and said I hoped they were fine. I was a little shocked when I turned round to see Judy had hiked her skirt up. As she had no panties on (I'd discarded mine too earlier as they were sopping wet) I could see her cunt lips under that thinned out bush of hers. It looked too tempting to resist so I moved over to her and slipped my fingers into her.

'They can't see, they can't move, they can't say anything,' grinned Judy as I caressed her clit.

'Uh-huh, but they can probably smell us.' I'd lifted my skirt and was groping between my legs. Judy just laughed and kissed me - a much longer kiss than before.

It didn't take us long to get our clothes off and get down to some serious tongue-to-cunt mutual exploration. I wondered if Kirstie and Sandee, tied up and gagged and blindfolded, had realized what we were doing but it didn't matter much. They'd be tied up for quite a while yet.

And as I said, Dan wouldn't be home for ages.

Then tomorrow it was the weekend and Dan would be out playing golf. That would give us a few hours both days to have some more fun - maybe over at my place.

Well, I'd have to discuss it with my new lover but I figured the girls would get to be tied up by the pool, in the bathroom, in the basement, over the kitchen table. Plus, they'd have to watch the kids' bondage video we had and maybe wait around in ropes while Judy and I went to get a new one. Or maybe two.

And if the kids were very good and promised to sit still in their ropes and not make too much noise in their gags they could sit bound to chairs and watch Judy and I make love on the big bed. You never know - they might just learn something.

I was learning a lot and so was Judy. But as I slid my tongue in my friend's delicious twat, glancing over at the bound girls as I licked and nibbled, I had one of those dilemmas moms always have when their daughter is securely bound.

Should I tie Kirstie up in her bed or mine when we got home?