Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Thursday, December 20th 2001 - 02:34:36 AM A Surprise for Christmas Every site needs a tale for Christmas - here is mine. As regular readers will know, my brother Chris, at sixteen, was almost four years older than I was. Despite the difference in age, we had always been very close, and this had been enhanced by recent events. I suppose there was an element of hero worship - at twelve years old I was a scrawny kid and the antithesis of my brother - but he accepted it in good part (we remain close even today). Our sister, Gwen, two years older than me, had her own room but Chris and I shared a bedroom so that we could enjoy the luxury of a separate games room. If sharing with his "baby brother" ever irked him, Chris never showed it or complained in any way. I guess that every kid looks forward to Christmas with an almost unbearable anticipation and I was no exception. Waking up in the early hours to find an enticing pile of parcels at the foot of your bed just waiting to be opened was half the fun of Christmas. It certainly was for me, but Chris had reached the age where he would prefer to remain asleep half the day and damn the presents. This was no good to me - the fun was in sharing the excitement and what else was a big brother for anyway? At last Christmas Eve arrived and after attempting to keep my brother awake half the night with childish chatter I finally accepted the inevitable and fell soundly asleep (Chris had been responding with grunts or snores for more than an hour!). There is something magical about a child's "internal" alarm clock. Despite telling him that at 8.00am it is much too early to get up on a normal school day and that the best thing to do is to roll over and go back to sleep, on this one special day it is automatically adjusted to go off at 4.00am (or thereabouts). The clock's owner is immediately aware of the importance of getting up - no question today of turning over and going back to sleep! This Christmas was no different. My "alarm" didn't fail me and I sat bolt upright, just able to make out vague shapes at the end of the bed in the darkness. To put this in perspective, our parents always ensured we had a few small gifts and the traditional fruit, nuts and a few sweets. Our main presents we would receive later in the day when all the family were together. When we were very small they would share our delight - now, it was an unwritten rule that we did not wake them before 7.30am and it had become a tradition that Chris as the eldest would then take them tea in bed. But parents were one thing; big brothers were a different matter all together. I began by fidgeting, then coughing loudly and finally whispering Chris's name urgently and persistently. Finally he rolled over, opened one eye sleepily, and demanded to know what the time was. This wouldn't do at all and, while being careful not to make so much noise that I woke our parents, my voice became more insistent. At last, Chris stretched out an arm and turned on the bedside lamp between our beds. He looked at his alarm clock sleepily and then glared at me. "Do you have any idea what the time is?" he snarled. "Go back to sleep and let me do the same." He rolled over and gave a convincing demonstration of what he thought I should do. I was sure my brother was only acting - he had forgotten to turn the light out. This called for drastic action. I jumped out of bed and leaped on top of Chris pummelling him with my fists. He groaned again but this time he opened his eyes wide and was clearly fully awake. "Come on, Runt, be sensible. I want to get some sleep and so should you!" he pleaded softly. My response was to continue beating his chest. "You really are pushing your luck Titch," he added in a more threatening tone. "Go back to bed or don't say I didn't warn you of the consequences!" I giggled softly but continued my assault. I was sitting astride my unfortunate brother but all at once he gave a heave, threw back the covers, grasped my wrists and in a moment the r"les were reversed - I found myself flat on my back on Chris's bed with him sitting on my chest, pinning my arms down with his hands. I began to giggle uncontrollably and Chris said anxiously, "Be quiet, you'll wake the whole house!" This merely caused me to laugh even more until Chris suddenly shifted his position, moving his knees to hold my arms, which enabled him to clamp a large hand over my mouth, stifling my chuckles. "Are you going to be quiet?" Chris asked, becoming exasperated. This merely caused me to heave with merriment although hardly any sound escaped the gagging hand. "OK, but don't say I didn't give you fair warning" he said sternly. He reached across to the bedside table where there was a clean handkerchief and shook it out of it's folds. Suddenly I realised what he had in mind and began to struggle but I had lost the initiative. He was taking no chances and clamped my nose between finger and thumb before removing his hand from my mouth. He knew only too well that I would clamp my mouth shut, effectively silencing me (oddly, although I really enjoyed our tie-up games, and had been gagged on numerous occasions my reflex action was to try to prevent it happening). My inevitable gasp for air followed within less than 30 seconds. As I relaxed my jaw, Chris stuffed the cloth well into my mouth then slapped his hand down on my mouth once more. He reached across to the drawer between our beds and after a few moments rummaging, pulled out my scout scarf. It was already neatly folded and he deftly forced it between my jaws, but he was being more thorough than usual. He carefully worked the cloth back between my teeth, forcing the wad of handkerchief further back into my mouth and when he was satisfied he lifted my head and knotted the scarf off behind my neck. He was taking no chances - he had tied it ferociously tight. This was not how I had intended to spend the early hours of Christmas morning! Chris was talking again now, "Right, little brother, I guess it is too much to ask that you behave properly and let me sleep without being properly restrained". Suddenly I realised he was in deadly earnest and I had got myself into a position it would be impossible to escape from. I enjoyed being tied up but this was different - hey, it was Christmas morning and there were parcels to open! He was speaking again. "Until you interrupted it, I was in the middle of a cool dream. Now I guess I shall have to make you a little uncomfortable. I need your shirt!" Chris hated pyjamas; for as long as I could remember he had always slept in shorts and a tee shirt and I naturally insisted on doing the same. I guess it was part of the "hero worship cult". Now, he grabbed my shirt and pulled it up over my head. Grasping one of my arms he freed it from the garment before pinning it to the bed once more with his knee and carrying out the same operation with the other arm. His superior strength ensured I had no opportunity to escape. With me pinned once more to the bed by his knees on my wrists, Chris relaxed and adjusted his position. At that moment he must have glanced at my bare torso for he suddenly started a giggling fit himself, finally managing to say, "Good heavens, you are a skinny little brat, aren't you?" It was true, but it did nothing for my equanimity! Reaching beneath his bed, he produced a length of cord perhaps 6 feet long. My heart sank. I knew that my being tied up was inevitable. He grasped one of my wrists and twisted it quite savagely, at the same time removing his weight from my chest and his knees from my arms. I quickly rolled over on to my stomach in a desperate bid to relieve the pressure on my arm. This was precisely what Chris had intended - he now had me just where he wanted me. I felt him grab my other arm and force it behind my back, crossing my hands as he did so and then he was winding turns around my wrists both vertically and horizontally, working them tight as he did so. Within a few moments he had cinched the whole lashing tight and knotted it off at the back of my wrists, well out of reach of my fingers. Satisfied with his work, he stood up and rolled me onto my back, leaving me lying on my tightly bound hands. The whole operation had taken less than two minutes and had been carried out in total silence. I was now securely gagged with my hands tied behind my back. I knew it was pointless struggling and as I was turned face up I couldn't help starting to giggle uncontrollably into my gag. Chris was grinning down at me now when suddenly his glance fell on my shorts and he exclaimed "Good heavens, you are enjoying this, aren't you?" I blushed deeply knowing precisely what had caused Chris's comment - despite my embarrassment I could do nothing to suppress my feelings! "I guess I shall have to help you cool off for a time," Chris chuckled. He produced a further length of rope and tied my ankles together as efficiently as he had done my hands. Then suddenly he stooped and, with one arm under my shoulders and another under my knees he lifted me bodily off his bed and onto the floor. Although we were upstairs this was tiled and, because of the summer heat there was no floor covering. It struck chill through my thin shorts but worse was to follow. With a deft movement he rolled me over onto my stomach, pinning me there with a knee in the small of my back. If the floor had struck chill through my shorts it was much worse on my bare, skinny ribs. Now I knew why he had removed my shirt. The floor was freezing! I suddenly had a premonition of what Chris had in store for me and began to struggle wildly, despite the knee in my back. At the same time I pleaded desperately with my brother, twisting my head round to stare up into his face with big round eyes - I could do the "Bambi" look but good. My pleading was, of course, quite unintelligible as I was only able to produce a muffled mmpppfh but Chris quite clearly understood as he in his turn started to giggle. He was all too familiar with my wiles and finally said "You are wasting your time kiddo, so you can turn the 'I can't understand why you are doing this to me' look off. You know very well you brought this on your self!" My fears now proved correct as Chris removed his knee, grasped my ankles and forced them up over my butt and within seconds my big brother had applied a tight hog-tie. I was still staring up at him and as he stood, he looked down approvingly and said "That should help to cool your ardour and perhaps I can get some rest. "Don't go anywhere!" and with that the light clicked off and I heard him scrambling back into his warm bed. I called my brother a name which certainly didn't reflect the festive season and which no twelve year old should even know. Fortunately, Chris had taken so much care with my gag, it was so effective that all I produced was a muffled mmpppfh. This was ignored since it was completely unintelligible which was just as well for me! Retribution would have been swift and more painful than my present predicament! Realising that Chris had no intention of letting me go I began to struggle again, but I knew from the outset it was hopeless. Chris had done his work so well my fingers couldn't even reach the binding cords let alone any of the knots which I had felt him work so tight as he tied me up. With my finger tips just brushing my heels I was completely immobile. As I lay there, I realised I really only had myself to blame for this. Suddenly, it dawned on me it was 4.30am on Christmas morning and I was in the midst of a totally unexpected tie-up game, laying tightly bound and gagged on the floor in our bedroom while my brother slept soundly a few feet away. A tie-up game was the last thing I had expected this morning and I now found my predicament both exciting and amusing. I began to giggle into my gag and gradually relaxed until the chill from the floor wore off. I was never really sure how long I lay there, as I was suddenly aware of my shoulder being shaken. I twisted my head around and looked up into Chris's smiling face. It was daylight (in fact about 6.15am) and I had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep! He had already released me from the hog-tie although my ankles were still bound and my hands were tied behind my back. "Hold still while I free your ankles and I'll help you up onto the bed" he said. I lay still while he untied the knots and in a few moments I was sitting on the edge of his bed, still gagged and with my hands tied behind me. "If you promise not to make any more noise I'll take your gag off," Chris whispered. I nodded my head vigorously and within a few moments he had freed my mouth. "Are you ready for parcels now?" he asked in a kindly tone and I nodded with alacrity. "OK, turn around and I'll untie your hands". I was now almost reluctant to be set at liberty but I complied with his instructions and felt his fingers working at the knots on my wrists. This done, we got on with the real business of the day. In fact, we would not receive our main presents until much later in the morning when all the family were assembled downstairs but Chris surprised me by handing me a small package saying, "I thought you might find this useful, seeing you are such a scrawny little runt. I thought it might help to redress the balance a little in your favour with your mates!" I thanked him and, puzzled by his comments ripped off the wrapping paper to reveal a small, plain white cardboard box which felt oddly heavy. Opening the box I tipped out the contents to reveal - a pair of steel handcuffs! They were obviously not as heavy as a real pair of police cuffs but never the less were stoutly constructed and had no "release mechanism". Two keys were attached by a ring to the short chain joining the two bracelets. I stared in awe at the shiny object in my hands, imagining the response their use on my mates would get. I thanked Chris profusely, all the while fingering the handcuffs and in doing so I squeezed one of the ratchets sufficiently hard that the cuff opened. I had not realised that it was possible to open them without a key and looked closely at the object in my hand, intrigued. Chris laughed and suggested I try them out. I didn't need to be asked twice! I ingenuously placed the open cuff around one of my wrists and gave the stiff ratchet a gentle squeeze. Two or three clicks left the cuff closed but I could see there was sufficient room for me still to squeeze my small hand out. Fascinated by this activity my attention was consumed by the handcuffs and I failed to see my brother softly step behind me. A moment later, he grasped the dangling cuff and dragged it behind my back, at the same time grabbing my free arm in a vice like grip. I heard the ratchet clack and felt the handcuffs tighten on my free arm, this time so that there was no chance of escape. To complete his objective, I felt Chris squeeze the other cuff until it too was tight around my wrist. I was trapped with no hope of escape, my hands firmly cuffed behind my back. Chris grasped the short chain connecting my wrists, pulled it up my back to prevent me struggling and after a few moments work released me and triumphantly dangled the keys in front of me. He had trapped me once more and I began to protest loudly but he immediately clamped his hand over my mouth. "Don't make so much noise, Titch," he whispered, "or do you want me to gag you again?" Despite his hand, I shook my head and as he removed his hand I began to giggle softly. "How long are you going to keep me like this?" I asked. In truth, I was rather excited by the prospect. "Well, I am going down to make tea for the oldies. You can come and help and then I will decide". I found this a little shocking but there was no sound of anyone else in the house stirring so I agreed, although it was not clear to me how I could help, handcuffed as I was with my hands behind my back! We crept silently down to the kitchen where Chris made me sit on a high backed chair, lifting my arms over the back so I was effectively secured to the chair, while he put the kettle on and arranged the tray. While he worked I heard footsteps and began to panic but it was difficult to rise and before I had succeeded Gwen walked into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I remained silent (perhaps I thought that by doing so she wouldn't see me) but Chris greeted her cheerily. Then her glance fell on me and she laughed out loud. "You managed it then, Chris?" she chuckled. "Of course," came the reply. "It was as easy as I said it would be". I looked from one to the other and they both burst out laughing. I had been set up! "Who is taking the tray up?" Gwen asked. "I think we all should," Chris replied. "But I can't go in to Mum and Dad like this," I whined in a panic. "No, of course you can't," said Chris in a kindly tone. "You can't possibly carry something with your hands behind your back, and in any case you are so scrawny you look positively indecent without your shirt!" Gwen giggled at his remark as Chris helped me up from the chair. Then I felt him working at one of the cuffs and in a moment my hands were free, the loose cuff dangling from it's partner, still locked to my other wrist. As if by magic Chris produced my tee shirt and I put it on gratefully, not waiting for him to free my other hand. I finished tucking in my shirt and then raised my hand to my captor to enable him to remove the handcuffs. I should have known my brother well enough by now to know that was not on the agenda. He grasped my hand but instead of unlocking it, once more seized my free arm and, before I realised what he was doing I heard and felt the manacle locked tightly on my wrist. Although my hands were now in front of me I was fettered as securely as I had been before! I was furious with the sight of my sister clutching her sides with laughter! "OK, we are all ready now, "laughed Chris. "Richard can carry the plate of biscuits!" and with that he opened the door. In vain I pleaded to be set free but was met with chuckles from both my siblings and a flat refusal. "Come along and behave properly, little brother," Chris chortled, "Otherwise you will have to stay like that all day!" I couldn't believe he would make me face my parents in handcuffs but faced with overwhelming odds I reluctantly turned, picked up the plate of biscuits in my chained hands and followed Chris and Gwen upstairs, trying all the while to keep well hidden behind them. Our parents were already sitting up in bed chatting as we entered in a rather comic procession, Chris leading with the tea tray, while I tried desperately to keep out of sight. I had somehow contrived to hold the plate up so that my manacled wrists were almost out of sight but I should have realised my torment wasn't over as Chris said, "Hurry up Richard, and pass the biscuits round!" As I blushed to the very tips of my ears and Gwen almost fell about with laughter, my brother propelled me to the front of the tableau. At the same time he said to our parents. "He's a little bit shy - he really likes his present and couldn't wait to try them out. Unfortunately he forgot that I had the key so now he can't take them off!" Our parents hooted with laughter which completed my embarrassment and I hung my head to avoid catching anyone's eye. My mother however reached out and put her arm round my shoulder, pulling me towards her while chuckling at my captivity. She raised her other hand and ruffled my hair, something all my family knew infuriated me. Normally I would have brushed her hand away ferociously but this wasn't so easy with my hands chained together. As the laughter subsided Chris admitted that everyone had known of the contents of the little white box although only Gwen was party to the plot to get me handcuffed. Father asked Chris if he was going to let me go at which point my brother looked shifty and said he had left the keys in the kitchen. "Drink your tea and I'll go and fetch them in a few minutes," he said. "I don't think Richard will come to any harm for a while and he certainly won't get into mischief!" We were all sitting on the bed and everyone laughed, though not in an unkind fashion. I had got over my embarrassment and joined in with the merriment despite my shackled hands, accepting that Chris had put one over on me yet again while at the same time realising that I had (albeit unwittingly) assisted him with his scheme. At last our parents made a move to get up and Chris put his arm round my shoulder and said, "Come on Titch, lets go to our room and I'll see if I can find the key". I followed him out and a few minutes later, while I sat on the edge of my bed Chris finally released my hands from their restraints. As he did so he told me that our parents had a far greater knowledge of my activities than I had suspected. It would not be right to say they "approved" but they had indicated they would not interfere so long as no one was hurt or deliberately picked on. Chris had assured them that all those involved were actually very considerate to one another and consequently we were able to continue the fun. The events that morning had been totally unexpected but afterwards I realised how excited I had been by them. We played no more such games over that festive season but I began plotting at once how I was going to avenge myself... Richard UK