Iris – Bound to be a Stepmother Part 1 of 6

I always used to think that being helpless and captive was when you were bound, gagged and blindfolded, you were being teased and tormented by someone and unable to do anything about it. Only now do I realise that it means being bound and gagged, struggling against your bonds in a most desperate attempt to gain your freedom, yet knowing with a sinking feeling in your heart that you are going to fail.

However, perhaps I should start at the beginning. My name is Iris Ball, I am twenty eight years old with long blond curly hair, green eyes and medium height. I’m plump, although my sixteen year old daughter Jodi always says that I’m buxom and look great. She’s just trying to talk my spirits up when she says this, though. To be more accurate at this point I should mention that Jodi is my stepdaughter and she is nearly as tall as me but slim, long straight black hair, and blue eyes.

How does a woman end with a stepdaughter who is only twelve years younger than her? It would be best if I tell you the story as it does have a relevance to my present and dire predicament.

When I was fifteen, I started to babysit for Ian and Barbara Ball, taking care of their three year old daughter Jodi. There were never any problems as Jodi was always well behaved, eating her food, going to bed at the appointed time, and she only made a moderate mess when she played with her toys.

It was on one of these evenings that Barbara had arrived home an hour early, as she had become bored with the meeting that Ian had to attend. She was slim, black hair, blue eyes, taller than I was, and she was wearing a delightful black cocktail dress with black high heeled shoes. I was in jeans, t shirt and trainers, and I was reading to Jodi as her mother walked into the room and sat down in one of the armchairs.

She explained to me just how loathsome the meeting had been and that she had to get away before she screamed at the how tedious it was, which caused me to respond about how it is always nice and quiet when babysitting. As a joke, I added that at least Barbara didn’t come back to her house to find a kidnapped babysitter who was all bound and gagged this evening.

The tone of her voice caught my attention and sent a thrill down my spine  as much as the actual words when she replied that the evening wasn’t over yet and there was still time for me to end up in that situation. Perhaps I should explain that I adore tying up games and I used to play them regularly until I had to move to this town with my foster-parents at the beginning of last year. I had been unable to find someone new to play these games with, so I had come to terms with no longer getting ted up. However, here was Jodi’s mother who was suggesting that I could end up tied and gagged as a captive babysitter, and my heart was racing as I formulated my response.

I was worried that I would trip over my words when I said that the only person here who could kidnap me was Barbara and I was sure that I could get out of anything that she could put me into. After a few seconds, she said that if I escaped from being tied up then she would triple my pay for the evening but that I would be too scared to be put to the test, so I stood up, put my hands behind my back and challenged her to tie me up. Barbra turned to her daughter and asked her if the babysitter should be kidnapped for an hour, to which Jodi giggled and nodded.

I continued to stand there as Barbara left the room, returning a minute later, and I was amazed as I felt rope encircling my wrists, before the cord was cinched and knotted. My elbows were pulled together and bound, followed by my ankles and just below my knees. A handkerchief was rolled up, inserted into my mouth and a scarf was placed over my lips with the ends tied at the back of my neck which created an effective gag. She helped me to sit down own the settee before picking up Jodi (Who had been giggling and clapping her hands while I had been made captive) and taking her upstairs to her bedroom, while I attempted to free myself from my captivity in the living room.

It only took a few moments to realise that Barbara was very proficient and binding and gagging a captive, and my futile actions let me know that she was as good as any teenager that had previously tied me up. After about ten minutes had passed, she entered the living room and sat down on my left before explaining that she and her husband were into bondage, and that she had guessed that I liked being a helpless captive due to my response to ‘damsel in distress’ scenes on the television. Barbara said that there was no need to worry as anything sexual stayed between her and her husband, but if I wanted she would place me in strict bondage for an hour or so after each babysitting session as an extra reward.

After an hour, Ian arrived home and Barbara explained what had happened while I sat bound and gagged on the sofa. I was released from my captivity and thanked Barbara, before Ian drove me home and thanked me for allowing his wife to tie me up.

It seemed after this evening that I was always babysitting for the Ball family and ending up in non-sexual bondage at the end of the evening. There were also times when Ian was going out and Barbara invited me over, so I could end up spending several hours as her bound and gagged captive.

It was after the tragedy that things changed.  I had been babysitting and getting tied up for about a year, when Barbara was walking down a road and a man in a car who had more alcohol than blood in his veins was travelling in the opposite direction. I started to spend more time with Jodi than I did before, so that Ian could continue his work and he was very thankful for the help that I provided.

I was seventeen and babysitting for Jodi one evening, when Ian returned from one of his meetings to notice a sad look on Jodi’s face. When he asked her what was the matter, she said that it was also unfair on me because mum wasn’t her to ‘kidnap’ me anymore, and that she was sure that mum would want him to kidnap me. Ian seemed to be unsure about this, but his daughter kept saying that it would be okay, at which point I mentioned that if it made Jodi happy then we should do it.

The was a big smile from Jodi as he went upstairs to bring down the ropes and scarves which were used to place me in secure bondage on the settee, and the expression on her face made it seem as if it was Christmas when he picked up a scarf and blindfolded me with it. There was a thank you to her father as she was carried upstairs so she could get some sleep, and I was feeling thrilled like never before as I squirmed on the couch, knowing that I would helpless and at his mercy when I returned.

I felt him sit to my right after he returned, his arms went around my body and he cuddled me as he pulled me onto his lap, so in response I tilted my head back, parting my cleave-gagged lips in the process. His lips pressed against mine, and I was kissed and cuddled for some time before he lifted me up and carried me to the bedroom, where all our subsequent ‘Babysitter Kidnapping’ games ended.

It wasn’t long before I moved in with him, so that I could help with bringing up Jodi but I didn’t neglect my A-level studies while I was helping out. My foster-parents were very supportive of my actions, as I had changed from girl who was being raised to a young woman who was helping to raise someone else, and they even helped out whenever they could.

It was just after I passed my A-level results with flying colours that Ian suffered his first fainting episode and at my urging he went to his doctor so that it could be checked. After a battery of test had been conducted, it was confirmed that Ian had an inoperable brain tumour, and the life expectancy was three to seven years. He was more concerned about Jodi’s future than about what was going to happen to him, and he knew that as soon as he died his money-grabbing relatives would only be interested in his daughter for the money, as he had become very wealthy.

Ironically, it was Jodi that gave Ian the solution to the problem when she said that if he was married, the wife would get everything and take care of her as well.  Ian said that he wasn’t married though, to which his daughter said that he could marry me, and she trusted me over anyone else on the planet. There were a lot of discussions over this, but Ian and I both ending up agreeing with each other about Jodi’s observations, and we arranged to get married. His side of the family didn’t turn up for the wedding, but my foster parents and their family did, to which Jodi remarked about who really supported her and her father.

We had five wonderful years, but there was always a tinge of sadness as we all knew how it was going to end. Jodi and I lost a wonderful man when she was eleven, and I dedicated my life to bringing up my daughter, having cards printed explaining our situation so that I could hand them out to people who gave me withering looks for being a twenty three year old woman with an eleven year old daughter.

A year later, my daughter and I were watching the television when a crime show started, and Jodi’s reaction to the programme was incredible when one of the lead female characters was bound and gagged by the villain of the week. She was agape with her eyes glued to the screen, so I paused the episode in order to ask her if she wanted to be like the lady in the programme, and Jodi blushed as she nodded. It only took a minute for me to fetch some ropes and a scarf from upstairs and it wasn’t long before my daughter was bound and gagged on the settee, with the programme running. She was smiling under her gag and I hadn’t seen her so happy since the death of her father.

Soon, my daughter wanted to be tied up on a regular basis, and I taught her the safe, effective ways of applying rope and tying knots, just in case she ever wanted to tie someone up. She decided that it was unfair that I was always tying her up, and I should spend some of the times as a kidnapped heroine, which led to me ending up bound and gagged quite often. One time she mentioned that it was a pity that both of us couldn’t be tied so I searched in the internet for information on how to do this, and after this some of our games involved situations where we were both bound and gagged. When the days got hot, we took to wearing our swimsuits in the house, and once Jodi had been tied up in her blue one piece, she didn’t want to be tied up in any other piece of clothing.

One thing that did worry me about my daughter was that she didn’t develop into puberty when her friends did. When we visited the doctor, he checked up and found that her mother had been a late developer as well, so all I had to do was wait, but I did give her the talk about sex and to be very careful once she did develop. I was relieved when Jodi came to me about half of the year through her fifteenth year when she told me that the changes had started which showed that she was turning into a young woman.

Her sixteenth birthday was in early March on a Sunday and I decided to make it a special day, so I told her on the evening before that she would be spending the entire day in bondage except for the necessary breaks. She rose bright and early on Sunday in a new blue one-piece swimsuit and walked straight into the living room so that she could be bound and gagged. As I tied her up in the living room, she mentioned that she felt more excited and thrilled every new time that she was tied up, and she asked if it was due to her becoming a young lady. I answered that it was, and as my daughter lay on the floor in her bondage, she seemed to be almost ecstatic in her struggles.

Because there had been no men in her family life since her father died, and she had developed far later than other girls, there had never been the talk about improper family relationships. Plus, she always referred to me as Iris or The Babysitter, never as mum (Even though I thought of her as my daughter), and I always respected that since she lost her mother at a young age. Jodi was developing fast though, and I decided that in early April that I would lay new rules concerning conduct in our bondage games so that things don’t go too far.

This proved to be a bad mistake on my part, as I didn’t know what my daughter had planned for me on the Friday night before Mother’s day...