canuck100

Chatting with a friend, I was recently reminded of the story I am about to tell. It doesn't follow the chronological order of my other stories, but I figured I might as well post it here. This was in the spring of 1987. I was 14 year old. My friend Yannick is a year and a half older than me. He had invited me to spend the day with him, as his parents and his sister were gone for the day - for an out-of-town volleyball tournament I believe. This meant that we would have the house to ourselves. This would often (well, almost always) lead to a tie-up session. I was reflecting on this while on my way to his house. And this time, of course, would no exception. I arrived at his house and took off my plaid scarf and my puffy black North Face sleeveless vest, which I wore over an Irish fisherman's sweater. I took my shoes off, as is customary here in Canada. We hung out in Yannick's basement for a while, playing a Formula 1 themed card game - he was a big F1 fan. Yannick was sitting across

April 1987. I'm 14 year old. Yannick, my 15 - almost 16 - years old friend and I were at his place on a Saturday night. His parents and his sister were gone to their chalet (country house). But April in Quebec is a boring month to be at the cottage. The snow has melted, everything is brown and muddy, winter activities are over, and summer ones will not start for another month. So Yannick had asked and received permission from his parents to stay in town and to invite me for a sleepover. It was only two nights anyway and my own parents were only a few houses down the street. One thing we had planned to do was to watch the (ice) hockey playoffs - a very serious deal here in Canada. Both his favourite team, the Quebec Nordiques, and mine, the Montreal Canadiens, had made it to the playoffs. But that night only the Montreal-Boston game was on TV - that was a few years before the sports channel were created and made watching every single game possible. But back then Yannick had to settle

In my last story, I was my friend Yannick's captive for most an afternoon of the 1987 winter. My 15 years old friend - almost 16 - had tied my 14 year old self up, gagged me with his hiking socks and zipped me up in his father's parka, before wrapping a kind of amateur rope harness around it. You can read the story here if you haven't already. The next major tie up event would happen about a month later. It was now end of winter / early spring. I was at Yannick's, just hanging out with him, playing games, watching TV, horsing around, having a good time. I was wearing a heavy cream-colored cable knit Irish sweater with khaki cargo pants and grey sports socks. Yannick was dressed more lightly, with a long sleeve baseball T-shirt, sweatpants and white socks. Eventually, Yannick challenged me to a friendly grapple match. These usually ended with one of us tied up, and I did not expect this time to be the exception. Our grappling challenges were often a pretext to start a tie up game. It

Where we left off in my last story, Yannick and I were on our way to his house to have lunch. It was the winter of 1987. Yannick was 15 years old - almost 16, while I had just turned 14 a few weeks before. We had the day off from school and had the house to ourselves for the day. He had spent a good chunk of the morning tied up, trapped in a sweatpants/armbinder contraption of my own invention. But he had been a good sport about it: after all, he had won our wrestling match and as the winner, he had asked that I tie him up. Two minutes later we arrive at his house, a two floors 1950's gabled-cottage, very similar to my family's. Originally, when they were built, our houses were identical. Over time, the various owners had made different changes and renovations, so whenever I went to his house it felt a bit like I was in an alternate reality : it looked similar as my own house, but not quite the same. We took our winter clothes off. Yannick was wearing cargo pants, a cream-colored

"So I've been told that all someone needs to take you prisoner is 2 pairs of socks and 3 zipties? That's good to know!" Jessica said right before our ways parted in the stairs at school. My jaw dropped and I blushed instantly. Jessica was my crush. Having dropped her bomb, she smiled at me as she passed the doors that led on the 2rd floor. Our classes were not on the same floor, so I made my way to the 3rd, my mouth still opened in surprise. I understood from our short conversation that my friend Yannick had already told her about how he had tied me up over the weekend. If you haven't read "This Time, I Get It", I had spent 2 hours as his captive, hogtied, gagged and blindfolded at his family's cottage in the winter of 1987, as "revenge" for when I had tied him up a few weeks earlier (see "I Win, For Once"). I had an awesome time, to be quite honest. But... I wasn't particularly happy about the fact that he told Jessica - and possibly other people - that I had been his

It is the winter of 1987, and I am 13 year old. The week before, I had tied my 15 year old friend Yannick (see "I Won, for Once!") after he bet with me that we would win a wrestling match against me even if his hands were tied behind his back. Well, he lost and proved to be a very willing and cooperative "victim". So this one day I was at school. I went to a private school - very common here in Montréal, and not very expensive as it is subsidised by the government. We call them "collège"; It's somewhat similar to "Catholic schools" in the USA, but not religious and generally much less conservative. But the school uniform is similar : for girls, plaid pleated skirt or pants, blouse with a V-Neck sweater or cardigan. For boys, dress pants, shirts and ties, and again V-neck sweater or cardigan. I was in "Secondaire 2", equivalent to Grade 8 in English-speaking parts of Canada or in the US. I'm in the locker room, talking to my crush Jessica and her friend Marie-Ève who are leaning

Keep in mind that the original dialogues happened in French; I did my best to translate them into what I think is their English equivalent. It is the winter of 1987, and I am 13 year old. There has been a major snowstorm during the night. We're used to snow up here in Montreal (that's in Québec, Canada), but even for us 35cm of snow - that's more than a foot for you Americans - is enough to get the schools to close for the day - a rare event! Even with the storm, my parents still had to go to work: buses and metro keep running, even after major snowstorms. My younger sister is off to spend the day at a friend's, so I have the house to myself for the day. I spend the morning working on a project for school, but after lunch, not having anything planned for the afternoon, I decid to call my friend Yannick - no text messages back then. He lives a few houses away from mine. He is 15, that's a year and a half older than me. He has been my neighbour forever and we go to the same secondary