Tales of the Rope

Chapter 12: The Haunted House Continued
When the three teens backed up to survey their work, they were pleased. Darlene was quite secured and wouldn’t be freeing
herself. Ropes and tape secured her arms and legs, and more rope held her in the center of the closet. She strained on her toes
to keep that rope around her neck from tightening. Her eyes showed the fear she was feeling within. This was an exciting game,
but poor little Darlene was nearing the point when she would be left alone, and that frightened her a great deal.
Another whispered debate raged as to whether to leave the rope around her neck or allow her to rest her feet flat on the floor. It
was finally decided to loosen the rope just a bit, enough to allow her feet down but keep some pressure on her neck. It would
keep her, they all agreed, from throwing her body back and forth in an attempt to loosen the ropes holding her.
The teens had been casting nervous glances around them, searching the dark corners of the old house where strange shadows
from their muted lights danced on the dirty walls. Each in turn entered the closet to give Darlene a farewell kiss on her gagged
lips. She whined a final plea for mercy but was ignored by the excited teenagers. The last girl, being Darlene’s closest friend,
touched her pussy as she kissed the ball gag. A tingle shot through Darlene, and she prayed that touch would be followed by
more. But the teenager girl, with a wicked smile, only took a couple pubic hairs between her fingers and yanked them out,
evoking a muffled cry from the poor girl.
The boy wedged a piece of wood under the closet door so it would stay open. Then they picked up the flashlights, extra tape and
ropes, and left.
The house was not quiet. When the sound of the departing van faded, there were still creaking noises that Darlene hoped were
from the wood in the walls cooling down after a hot summer day. There were little whisperings and scratching that might be
branches rubbing against the outside of the house. At least she hoped they were. Through the open door, the captive girl could
see dim light coming in the dirty windows, the distant city lights reflecting off the increasing cloud cover, and strange shadows
moving in the dark.
She struggled. She did not want to be left in that dirty closet, a helpless prisoner to a house said to contain unhappy spirits. She
pulled at her arms, and twisted her body wildly, but the tape and ropes held well. She could move frustratingly little in any
direction. And she would have flung her body back and forth had it not been for that rope tight under her chin. The teenagers
were right on that count.
The struggles went on for a long time, ending only when the exhausted girl could not fight any longer. But until the point where
she sagged exhausted in her bonds, she fought as hard as she could. Panic added strength to her muscles as she pushed

against the restraints with all that was in her young body. But the ropes and tape proved superior, and an hour later she was still
as helpless as the moment she saw her friends disappear.
She was limp in the ropes but could not let her body sag totally. That rope around the neck dictated her posture. She whined in
anger, frustration and fear. She wanted to cry but tears wouldn’t come. Maybe later. She tried to call out, hoping that perhaps her
friends were just around the corner or off in those shadows, watching her struggles and enjoying her fear. But the ball in her
mouth turned her words into not-words, more like pathetic animal sounds.
The night passed slowly. Darlene hung in her bonds, hoping the dawn would soon come. She had come to terms with the fact
that her friends intended to leave her there for the entire night. It fitted in with their games. And it was what she would have done
had one of the other girls been the victim of this prank.
She stood in the humid air, hot from her struggles and with sweat dripping down where her skin was not covered by tape. Under
the tape she could feel the skin trying to sweat. It itched.
Sometime after midnight, two full hours after being bound in that closet, and over eight hours after first having her arms bound
behind her, Darlene heard a tapping sound. It was faint and seemed to be coming from all around her. The old house creaked as
it settled into a more comfortable position. But the tapping continued and was joined by a whisper. She felt the slightest touch
against those places where bare skin still showed between the tape. The air seemed to move, first one way then another,
uncertain what it wanted to do.
Suddenly there was flash of light illuminating the room with stark blue light, and a loud crash. Darlene jerked within her bonds. As
the loud rumble faded away, she realized that it was only thunder. Those gathering clouds of the evening had turned into a
summer thunderstorm.
The storm broke over the ancient house, bombarding her with nerve-shattering noise and alternating black and bright light. The
walls seem to shake in fear as the thunder roared out in the small hours of the morning.
After a long time, and very slowly the storm moved off. The imprisoned girl could tell by the diminishing thunder. Loud rain
pounded upon the faded walls, drumming against the few remaining panes of glass, and wind howled like a banshee. Some of
the cool, damp air found its way into her prison, and she appreciated where it touched her flesh.
Many long hours remained before dawn would bring an end to that nightmare. Darlene dared not sleep for fear of both the rope
around her neck and what terrors that haunted house might yet show her. She filled the lonely hours with thoughts and plans for

revenge. Those two friends of hers would one day feel this same terror. Or something worse. With each ache of her imprisoned
body, she planned their coming torment.
Hours later, but still well before the first ray of sunlight, another storm moved in. Thunder again shook the old walls and Darlene
grimaced again in fear.
The next morning was a Sunday, and she knew that her friends would have to go to church with their parents. Freedom from this
terrible ordeal would not come with the first light but many hours later when one of them remembered their prisoner and could
return to the haunted house.
Darlene sighed and cried a bit. The tears helped her feel better but did nothing to ease the tightness of the ropes and tape. She
suffered on into that long night, wishing her friends had shown enough kindness to leave a dildo inside her so she could have
had some relief. She knew it was part of their sadistic nature to deny her the pleasure and comfort of an orgasm. She had done
the same before when it was her turn to be binding one of the others.
She sighed and began wondering again about the restless spirits said to haunt that old place.
And then she heard the ghostly footsteps approaching...