The Bondagettes of Pod F (F+/F+) - Chapter 3

[AlexUSA3]

This story picks up where The Bondage Model ended. No prior knowledge of the characters is needed to appreciate this story. All the details concerning the girls that define them will be explored in this sequel to the original. What’s really new here though from the original?

Well, Ashley Calland, for one, fresh out of the slammer, is now entering the picture as a friend and future colleague since the orphaned teenager now resides with two of her former podmates. We now get to watch Ashley get transitioned to bondage although her adulthood comes three months after the end of the original story.

Hannah now sees reality more clearly. This means renewed and stronger friendships with those who pursued her happiness throughout the original tale. Now, a more meaningful relationship with Michela can be explored, and her friendships with the Cool Girls’ Club girls can hopefully take off. Don’t forget about her friends from the TUG Sorority!

Kylie has her own story that will slowly be revealed over the course of this story. Despite being the least discussed girl in the original tale, she has her own story that will be revealed over the next few months of the character’s lives.

Mary-Ann and Kendra have a deep and meaningful friendship that deserves much attention. The “odd couple” is living together as roommates in a platonic context, and they have their quarrels as any roommates will have. How they overcome their differences and flaws will be explored over the course of the summer, especially with them now having Ashley as the third cog in the wheel!

Don’t forget about the Cool Girls’ Club with Casey, Jenny, and Nichole! There are still two girls in the Club with whom Hannah has to reconcile, and this difficult forgiveness will feature over the earlier chapters of this tale, during May and June of 2015. The CGC will reveal itself to be a new home to all of Pod F over the course of the summer. Tied After Class productions is also still the source of much joy for the Bondagettes of Pod F, who will make a heart-warming friendship through the studio that welcomed them during the darkest period of their lives.

Interludes will continue to hearken back to the girl’s past, whether time in prison, before it, or in the period between their respective releases and Pod F’s subsequent reunification in November and December of 2014 that was spurred by Michela, who understood the powers of love. There will be “Newspaper Clippings” that appear in the same manner. Now, as the girls are settled into their new lives, we’ll see what further blessings they bring both to within and without Pod F

And story polls will resume in the same fun manner as before! Realize this story will be posted both on TugStories and on DeviantArt, so poll results might not be as you expect.

Chapter 001: Ashley and Me - Part 1
Friday, May 15, 2015

“Good morning, ladies!” I sat down across from Ashley and Kendra.
“Oh, thank you, Hannah!” Ashley leaned across and kissed me on the cheek.
“Heyyy!” I laughed, “What’s into you?”
“I got the job at Best Buy! We’ll be workmates!” the taller brunette’s eyes sparkled.
“I knew they’d take you! I’ll teach you everything!” I smiled at her.
“I’m gonna get a tattoo,” Kendra deadpanned, “And Ash wants a belly-button piercing.”
“And when am I gonna be a Cool Girl? And get taught about TUGs?”
“Wait, where did these requests come from?!”

Ashley Calland was a bigger girl, about 5’7”, just 17 years old, and had gorgeous brown hair that came to just half-way down her shoulders after a trim paid for by her guardian, matched by lively brown eyes. When you stared too closely at her, you would realize that some tiny part of her was on display, and that part was terrified of life and easily triggered. The young girl was harboring more than this, and she’s clearly under Kendra’s influence which in turn can be considered to be a symptom of the Cool Girls’ Club. She was wearing red athletic shorts, a black tank top, and a red bandana headband. I can’t forget the ‘C’ cups. Why did she want a piercing?

Kendra Kristensen was a little girl, just 5’ flat in her stocking feet, and now 20 years old. She’s got blonde brown hair that goes halfway down her back, beautiful blue-gray eyes, nice ‘C’ cups, bright pink short jean shorts, a purple sleeveless t-shirt, and a bright green kerchief bandana. She is tired after a long battle, but she has most successfully of all of us adjusted to her new life and left the past behind, although she retains the bad memories and sometimes falls into guilt trips.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 001: How We Met
Wednesday, November 28, 2012

“Hannah, I’m sorry you’re sad,” Ashley said with a thick accent as she sat down with me.
“I’m wearing an orange jumpsuit like I’m in a movie!” I groaned and put my head on the table, “I blew it.”
“OK, we blew it,” Kendra sat down next to me and put a deck of Uno cards in front of me, “Now shut up and deal!”
“Come on!” my cellmate, Michela Palmeri, came over, “Deal them out!”
“All right,” I threw up my hands.



We’re sitting in Pod F of the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center, a girl’s prison based in what is the hometown for me, Kendra, and Michela. We’re all in here for different reasons. I’m here on a drug distribution charge; Kendra was my customer who was caught carrying; Michela shot her r-pist; Ashley’s story is similar.

As you can see from the map, it’s a secure facility. I’ll explain more later. There are 16 of us in each pod, maximum, we’re all juvenile females with badges featuring our “Prison ID Number” and our bed number. I’m F09 since my bed is Pod F #09; JF11120288 can be written clearly as JF-11-12-0288. “JF” means “juvenile female”. “11” means November, the month of my arrest. “12” is for “2012,” the year of my arrest. “0288” means I’m the 288th juvenile female inmate to enter the Mudville facility this year.

I was arrested in the afternoon of November 26th, just hours after Kendra. Michela and Ashley have been here for months or years.

“I was hoping we’d get them together. They’d be cute!” her accent was the cutest thing.
“Ummmm,” I was hesitant.
“You and me, Hannah! Pleeeeasssseeeee!” she whined like I was her mother.
“Money’s hard to find, girl. I’ll see what I can do with the modeling; if Mary-Ann, Kendra, and I can get the money, you will get it along with me. It’ll be our symbol of sisterhood.”
“What if M.A. and Kendra already found work to get that money when I first asked them?”
“Ashley,” I looked at Kendra, “Why do you want this thing so bad?”
“It’s meaningful. It’s going to have lots of meaning,” her voice trembled.
“Talk to me,” I changed to that sisterly tone that made her adore me more than anyone else.

Ashley shook her head and looked down and sipped on her coffee. She leaned back in the chair and looked into my eyes, and then she slumped down. She sighed and winced in pain a little bit, as if this was a trigger topic. She’d already been triggered four times in the week since she got out of juvie, just the Friday before this.

I got out of my chair and walked over to the 17 year-old. She stood up and held her coffee while looking down at me. I held my arms out for a hug. We hadn’t eaten our donuts, but she grabbed the bag and stormed out of the Dunkin Donuts without a word. I turned to Kendra who smiled and shrugged and motioned for me to follow her. Apparently, she already knew what was going on here.

I saw that Ashley had helped herself to taking a seat in my car ahead of her first day of working with me at Best Buy. I opened my door and took a seat next to her. She was staring in horrified silence and hyperventilating. She’d been triggered. I held out my hand to her, and she grabbed it tightly in her hands. Her tween and high school years were gone, taken from her by a judge with a political ax to grind. I let her stare as long as she needed, and Kendra sat on the bench near my car and waited. Soon, she calmed down enough to talk.

“Hannah, a pearl and three emeralds. I know. It’s a pricey stupid thing to want…”

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 002: Ashley
Monday, May 25, 2009

“Momma! Momma!” the 11 year-old ran among the partygoers and jumped on the table.
“What is it?” Heléne Calland asked her daughter while people stare at this odd sight.
“Momma,” she had a thick French accent, “I heard someone saying that a person went to jail for making little girls do things while naked.”
“Umm, Ashley, get down. What's wrong?” the mother noticed the figure racing towards them.
“Ummmm,” she looked toward her abuser, “I’ve been forced to do things while naked since we got here!”
“What on earth?!” Ashley’s mother shrieked in a thicker accent and stared at the abuser.

A gun fired. Chaos ensued. The abuser shot Heléne before losing the weapon in a fight with Ashley’s father, but Jean Calland had been fatally stabbed. Young Ashley grabbed the gun and killed her abuser. Then, the orphan wailed over her dead mother’s body. She was soon in handcuffs, arrested for the killing.

The young girl was loaded into a police cruiser and taken to the police station for processing; then, she was taken to the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center and registered to Pod F. She was F14 and given the prison ID JF05090106 to go on her badge along with her orange jumpsuit. She would be trapped there until May 8th, 2015, except for one day in June…

The pearl represented June, the month in which the judge sentenced her to 6 years in prison for killing the abuser who had, seconds before, murdered her parents and meant to kill her too. One emerald would stand for that day, the shackles that bound her. A bigger one to represent her release. The biggest one to represent that her parents were gone forever.

“Ashley, I will do everything I can to ensure you get that, and I will even get you a ring with you and your parent’s birthstones someday.”
“Hannah! I can’t believe anyone loves me anymore, let alone you.”
“I promised,” I said with confidence, “That I will find your grandparents as well. We will.”
“May we go to work?” her accent was still present but slight now.
“Just one thing. Wait here, honey,” I said to her and got out of the car.
“Do you understand now?” Kendra asks me.
“Kendra, would you set me up with Nabber Cellar and Tommy Trusser, please?”
“You got it,” we bumped fists, “You good to go? Bring her home to spend the afternoon with you and teach her about bondage?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it. I thought I’d be a big sister; instead I’m the teen mom to a teen.”

I sat down in the car with the girl wearing the red bandana. As we drove away, she touched my blonde hair with an almost religious solemnity. She’s exploring the world in ways she couldn’t in juvie. All those years where girls have sleepovers, makeup experiments, proms, laughter, and hissyfits were spent in cold formality as a juvenile inmate. She’s a powder keg, ready to go off at a moment’s notice.

“Ash, you’ve never really talked much… What happened? What did he do to you?”
“Please don’t make me go there,” she clammed up once again, “What I’ve said is enough.”
“You have to open up to somebody. You’re pent up with anger.”
“But not today. Don’t make me talk,” she started hyperventilating, “Hannah, don’t.”
“Not today,” I surrendered, “Whenever you’re ready.”
“If,” she squeezed my hand tightly, “I’m ever ready.”

We go to Best Buy, where I get to fit her with her own uniform while she giggles. She doesn’t know how to react to the world around her, and her reactions are a bit inappropriate for a given moment. I’ve been here now for 11+ months and been one of their most established workers. I have the liberty to train the new girl given the circumstances. She looks like a trophy model in the Best Buy uniform, and I train the young girl on how to run a cash register. She absorbs my every word, and I don’t realize this is the beginning of a career for her working here. My clout is such that I get my boss to agree to schedule her to work exclusively at the same times as me.

Then, at 2PM, we walked in the door at the Palmeri residence. There, I find Michela standing in the hall by herself, having quiet time in the pod. The big wavy-haired brunette looks forlorn in her silence. A black knee skirt, a white long-sleeve t-shirt with a V neck, and a white bandana headband are on my girlfriend. Her hands are behind her back, right hand clasping the left wrist. I stand between her and the wall.

My platinum blonde hair is strangely lovely to her and Ashley. I’m 5’4”, so a little bit shorter than Ashley and much shorter than the 5’9” Michela. Both quietly admire me in my Best Buy uniform, now accompanied by the black bandana headband I had to take off at work. Michela mindlessly embraced me and kissed me.

“Hey, Michela, how’d you like to get tied up? Hmm?” I reached into her shirt to grab her left tit.
“In front of me?!” Ashley asked me with fearful disgust, “Hannah, I’m not into you like that. If I have to be around that, then take me home.”
“I’m just seducing Michela,” I frowned, “I’ll cool it in front of you. Let’s tie you up.”
“It’s working, too!” my girlfriend smiled at me, “Get back into your regular clothes!”
“Oh!” the girl in red sprang to life again, “Yes! I’m getting tied up!”
“Someone’s eager! I think Hannah has an admirer.”

I went upstairs to the room where Michela and I shared a bed in our unofficial but quite serious sexual relationship. I kept my black pants but exchanged my blue uniform polo for a pink t-shirt. I was ready not only to put Ashley into her first bondage but also to work her towards becoming a Cool Girl like me, Kendra, and Michela!

I wrapped the clothesline to tie Ashley's crossed wrists behind her back, and then I did the same to Michela. I was not testing Ashley’s elbows yet. Waist ropes. Harnesses with ropes above and below the tits, through the armpits, and a V between the tits. Upper thighs, lower thighs, ankles, and knees. I did not spare anything.

“How do you feel, Ash?” I asked her, “Is it good?”
“Like you’ve wrapped me in an inescapable hug!” her eyes sparkled.
“It's fun and relaxing,” Michela smiled.
“Why don't you try to escape?” I asked them, “If you get out in 15 minutes, I won't gag you.”
“Deal! C’mon, Ashley, let's do this!”
“Who is that?” Luisa entered the room, “Hannah, you naughty!”
“Ashley, meet Luisa, Michela’s sister. Luisa, meet Ashley, graduate of Pod F.”
“Sorry to interrupt. I’ll talk to you later, Hannah,” Luisa turned to leave.
“I like her smile,” Ashley took a deep breath, “I’ve never had a friend in America.”
“Say what?” Luisa opened the door again, “How long have you been here?”
“Uhhhh… since 2006? No, 2007, January 2007.”
“I’m sorry.”

Luisa sat on the futon next to me and watched the girl squirming in the ropes. Just a week ago, as happens with most girls who get a multiyear stretch in juvie, Ashley went clothes shopping with Mary-Ann, Michela, and me. Fortunately, she's about the same height as Mary-Ann and borrowed from her fellow French girl in the interim.

We never addressed this in the original story because it wasn’t important, but Michela taught her younger sister about TUGs. Luisa knew things that not even Mom Palmeri knew, like where Michela got her money. Michela mostly hoarded the money without saying anything, but Luisa knew the truth about things like only I did. The younger sister looks up to me as a second older sister, and I can see some sort of immediate connection form between Luisa and Ashley.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 003: Prisoner JF05090106
Tuesday, May 26, 2009

“I killed my abuser,” Ashley fearfully told one older, but caring, girl.
“He must have been a real jerk,” the girl leaned back, “Killed your parents?!”
“Yeah… the promise was that we’d all die if I said anything…,” Ashley grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” the girl answered, “I’m an orphan too. I’m Kris. Kris Thompson. I’m… bad.”
“You’re a nice girl on the inside. Someday you will be good,” the 11 year-old remarked.
“Pardon? Your accent.”
“You will be good one day. I can see it in you. I almost wish I had died instead.”
“Nah,” Kris brushed that off, “You’re a brave girl to do what you did to him. I’m bad. I would have fired every bullet into his penis and laughed while he died.”

How could Ashley process what had happened? She had been abused by someone she trusted so much, and she was a victim at the hands of someone her mother loved dearly. Why it happened was anyone’s guess, but it happened. As they walked out of the showers, Ashley stared fearfully in the direction of the guards.

“Don’t be afraid of Mr. Edmundson. He’s a good guy,” Kris encouraged her.
“OK,” Ashley smiled, but she wasn’t staring at Mr. Edmundson.

March, 28, 2013

“So what exactly happened?” I asked the girl since we were the only ones taking a shower.
“Uncle Gabriel sexually abused me. Isn’t that enough?” she closed up and grew sullen.
“I’m sorry.”
“My parents were murdered in front of all our friends, and then I fired a shot before anyone else died. The judge said I was a monster and sentenced me to six years. An orphan girl in juvie for six years. Two and a half more to go.”
“That’s disgusting,” I grimaced, “What a witch!”

Ashley was a pretty young girl, then just 15. It seemed hard to imagine her getting ramrodded by an uncle from when she was 9. That’s a terrible life to have lived. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either, really, so I never brought the topic up again unless it was appropriate for the moment, as when new girls came through and thus the stories started circulating again. My abuse happened after juvie, when I was 17 and 18, and I freak out just thinking about it to this day.

“At least we have Mrs. Copley and Mr. Edmunds,” I looked towards the guards, “They’re nice.”
“Ms. Werner isn’t worth a thing to me,” she shook her head, “I like them though.”
“Ms. Werner is nice though!”
“I hate her! I have my reasons!” she snapped and turned on the shower; she was angry at me.
“I’m sorry,” I responded, “Not everyone naturally likes everyone.”
“That’s for sure!” she stared at the wall in terror, “Mr. Anderson sucks too.”

She had a very, very strange relationship with the guards here; her reactions to them were unique to her. Everyone liked those four guards. The other two not so much; they could be rotten. But Mrs. Copley? We had 16 girls in Pod F; 14 loved her; 1 hated her; the other hadn’t been in here long enough to realize they loved her. What was wrong with Ashley?

“Hannah, Mary-Ann and I plan to go to Elko tomorrow. Please come with us!” Ash pleaded.
“Ashley,” I looked deep into her eyes, “Why do you care so much about me?”
“She sees you the way Lou does. She sees the goodness that you never believed you had. Now, the goodness defines you more than the badness,” Michela smiled.
“She’s right. My mom had 9 miscarriages before she had me and another dozen after me.”
“We see in you what Michela sees, only we’re not romantically attracted to you,” Luisa added with a big grin.
“Now, we’ve been talking so long that it’s been 20 minutes. I think it’s time for some rubber ball gags,” Michela moved seductively.
“Are you ready, Ashley?” I looked at the French brunette, “To experience my tough love?”
“May I gag my sister?” Luisa asked me hopefully.

That’s when I realized the instant connection. Ashley and Luisa were two peas in a pod, and that was the beginning of a friendship so special that Ashley would one day be Luisa’s maid of honor and the godmother to Luisa’s first child. No one knew it at the time, but they’d found their own equivalents in life to Mary-Ann and Kendra, me and Michela, or my friends Jenny and Nichole, who will become very important in a couple of chapters.

Luisa got an orange rubber ball and put a black bandana through the holes; I used a blue rubber ball but also used a black bandana. That was Ashley’s first ever gag, and I gently pulled the knot tight until I knew she couldn’t spit the ball out before making the second knot. Luisa, of course, didn’t show any mercy to her big sister, who yelped and laughed at the tightness of the gag.

“Mmmm!” Ashley sat up against the bed next to Michela and looked scared for a photo.
“She really is playing it up!” Luisa laughed at the face Ashley made.
“She sure is! Ashley, I have a feeling there is a spare bedroom with your name on it!”
“Awwww… mmm?” Michela tried to grab my eyes.
“Now, Michela,” I chided her, “We’ll be big girls tonight, OK?”
“You’re half a foot shorter but sure wear the pants in your romance,” Luisa giggled.
“Oh, let’s be honest, Michela doesn’t wear pants enough,” I quipped.
“She’s a skirt and head covering girl,” Luisa laughed at my comment.
“I don’t know if it’s head covering, Cool Girl, a symbol of her juvie privileges, or all three.”
“Mmmmmm,” Michela rolled her eyes, laughed, and drooled to reveal a mix of them all.

Ashley not only got introduced to TUGs that day but also, as I stated, started what would be the greatest friendship she has to this day with Luisa Palmeri. Ashley might have been 2 years older than Luisa, but Luisa had the careful wisdom of someone 10 years her elder. That proved to be a big help to all three of us older girls over the years.

Over time, Ashley is going to be introduced to bondage games of increasing intensity, but we did not permit her to participate in anything adult until, well, she was an adult! August would arrive in a blink anyway, right? We didn’t know that she would forever cherish such innocent TUGs as her favorite and also become Mary-Ann’s right-hand girl in exploring the rougher side of things.

That youngster in the shorts and bandana is going to go places in the next few weeks, though, as you’re about to see. First, we’ll take a diversion to tomorrow with me fulfilling that promise to visit Elko with Ashley and Mary-Ann, and that is followed by a shocking development in the life of one of the Cool Girls.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Where are Ashley, Hannah, and Mary-Ann going to get lunch tomorrow?

(A) Teddy’s All-Day Breakfast: It’s Mary-Ann’s favorite
(B) Olive Garden: Celebrate Ashley by introducing her to something new
(C) Chick-Fil-A: Nothing like three Roman Catholic girls eating “The Lord’s Chicken”!

[Caesar73]

Fine Entry! It set the Stage nicely. I vote for B

[RopeBunny]

This is all quite interesting stuff, plenty going on. And I've always liked the timing angle. As in if 'if you aren't free in X minutes then I get to do Y to you.'

I'm going C, everyone tucking into chicken just brings up a good image, for me.

[AlexUSA3]

This is all quite interesting stuff, plenty going on. And I've always liked the timing angle. As in if 'if you aren't free in X minutes then I get to do Y to you.'

I'm going C, everyone tucking into chicken just brings up a good image, for me.

These characters do carry from the previous story, which shows their development into the characters you see at the beginning of this present tale. I also understand that not everyone is up to tackling a nearly 600 minute read.

[AlexUSA3]

I realize I forgot to tag people when I posted this story. My apologies if you already commented on this one.

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, and @LunaDog

[hafnermg]

Great start!! I vote A!!

[Bilmik]

A

[silvertejp590]

C!

[harveygasson]

A

[DommeKirsten]

Ashley looks fun so i choose F

[LunaDog]

That's SEVEN utterly delicious Ladies you have shown us here, Sir. And whilst, as i say, they are all very sexy, to be honest Kylie is my favourite. Very much looking forward to just what adventures you plan for her, and the rest of them.

As for the immediate question, my vote goes to 'A.' Can't beat a good breakfast!

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, and @LunaDog

The people have spoken, and the girls again will go out for breakfast!

Chapter 002: Ashley and Me - Part 2
Saturday, May 16, 2015

“Hannah!” Ashley bounced out the door into my arms.
“Hey, hey, missy, you need to put on a skirt if you're going to church!”
“Ohh, right… Sorry. MARY! HANNAH’S HERE!” she skipped away.
“Hey, hot stuff,” Mary-Ann strode over to the door.

Mary-Ann was sleepy from being up late at Wal-Mart while Ashley was thoroughly stuck in the 6AM mandatory prison wake-up time since it was her life from when she was an 11 year old. Maddy wore tight black shorts, a pink t-shirt with a curved neck, and a pink bandana headband. Her curls were in chaos, and her bun didn't do nearly enough to contain it all. She stepped into a black skirt that came just past her knees. M.A. has beautiful brown eyes, brown curly hair, a tan that is the envy of every pasty girl in Mudville, and D cups that are so mushy I call them “floppy French titties.”

Mary-Ann doesn't know how to greet people at all. She doesn't remember how to kiss or hug or shake hands or anything with comfort and ease. Her parents provided her with a home and food to eat and nothing more. All the love she knew came from her dad’s relations, and she is a girl who is scared of the real world at times. She knows how to talk, but she doesn't know how to act except around loved ones. She's learning how to display her feelings, but juvie hardened her. Her black framed glasses are old.

Out came our lovable girl with a ruffled black cotton knee skirt, socks, flats, blouse, and bandana headband. Gone was the smile and the energy. Reality was just starting to set in, and that look I saw in the car yesterday returned. Her breathing rate increased, and her pupils dilated. She took my hand and squeezed it tightly. She was mourning today. Like that, she went from bouncing to dead.

I was in prison mode. I had orange gym shorts over which I wore my denim knee skirt, a white t-shirt, and an orange kerchief bandana. Orange strangely comforted me in the way it triggered Mary-Ann, who wouldn't wear the color. I let Ashley hold my hand all the way to the car. She was mentally preparing herself for this moment.

But Ashley just blankly stared the whole way to St. James the Great in Elko. She was slumped in the seat and empty, but she wasn't vacant. Her mind was racing. Unlike Michela, Ashley did not shut down when she stared blankly. It was her chugging things in her mental supercomputer.

When we entered the church, Ashley went to the front pew in a brisk walk, and she ran her finger along the wood as if she were seeking something. She was careful to find just the right spot, and when she found the spot she sat down and looked left to the large statue of St. James that stood beside the pulpit. She began to phase out once again, including hyperventilation, and she fought herself. Then she broke the trance with tears rolling down her cheeks, and I cried too.

“This notch,” she said regretfully, “I used the handcuffs to cut it last time I was here.”
“Why did you do that?” Mary-Ann scratched her head.
“So I could one day find this seat… and remember the day I said goodbye.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” an older woman came over to us, “Is everything all right? I saw tears.”
“Mrs. McKee?” Ashley stood up, “Mrs. McKee, my catechism teacher!” she bounced now.
“Thank the saints! Ashley Calland, is that you?!”
“YES! I’m free!”

Next thing we knew, from a Saturday mass crowd of maybe 50 or 60 in a church that could fit at least 500, at least 35 of the people swarmed Ashley. It was so beautiful that Mary-Ann and I hid in a corner away from it all and cried with happiness. This was why the youngster never went a visitation without a guest during her time in juvie; this was why she always had letters; this was why she never gave up hope despite the emptiness and the deadness she felt at times. She might have been orphaned of her biological parents, but she had a spiritual family in the hundreds.

The mass was delayed five minutes on account of the excitement. Even the priest joined the rest in celebrating the return of their much beloved Ashley Calland. It was like the rejoicing of all of Europe after the victory at the Battle of Lepanto. Mary-Ann and I stopped crying and looked at each other; what a treasure… God… had given us. Only a loving God could have brought us all together in the way Pod F came together.

“Hannah, Mary! Come over too! I want everyone to meet you two!”
“Come on,” I took Maddy’s hand and felt the excitement, “Come on!”
“Everyone, these are Hannah Larsson and Mary-Ann Voisin. They were in the same cell block as me. They’re the ones who took care of me both then and now. I live with Mary-Ann over in Mudville now, and Hannah got me a job in the Best Buy where she works. They’re my heroes.”
“She says I’m the big sister she never had, but she treats me like a mother,” I grinned.
“I even ask her permission to do things,” she hugged me tightly.
“I never realized,” Mary-Ann was thoughtful and overwhelmed, “Just how special Ashley is.”

That was the happy business over with. The priest, among other things, offered a lovely prayer of gratitude at the safe return of the congregation’s beloved and never forgotten French girl. It was a heartwarming sight, but then the heartbreaking sight came after. After mass, we walked to the church cemetery, where I knew Ashley had the greatest battle of her life awaiting her. It was different now; she’s 17 and can appreciate the gravity of what happened. When she relives what transpired during those weeks in 2009, it’s now in a lens that realizes how helpless she was, how evil the judge was to sentence her to so much time, and how lonely life is. We knew it, too.

“Mom… Dad…,” she quietly sputtered, kissed the photo, and hugged the big cross-shaped stone.
“Ashley,” I got down on my knees with her and wrapped an arm around her.
“Only memories, Hannah,” she said without letting go.
“If you need to cry, cry.”
“Momma, Papa, I want you back!” she said in French and burst into tears.
“Ashley?” Mary-Ann was confused but hugged her friend.
“Let her cry, Maddy. Let her cry. She needs this.”
“My life is empty without you! I need you so badly!” she continued in her native language.

Mary-Ann could relate when she saw the tears and watched the brunette tighten her grip. Many times when Mary-Ann ran away from her foster homes, she was found within a few hours curled up in a ball hugging her dead grandparents’ gravestone. Mary-Ann’s parents were alive and just didn’t want her, but she could appreciate the desolation the 17 year-old was experiencing. There was a grandfather that M.A. loved very dearly; he passed away during one of M.A.’s many stints in juvie; worse, the warden wouldn’t let her go to the funeral. My own parents legally disowned me within days of my arrest, and I hadn't seen them since my sentencing.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 004: Mary-Ann’s Big Stretch Part 1
Sunday, July 18, 2010

It was nighttime. When it’s nighttime, people who don’t want to be seen camouflage themselves by wearing black. That’s why this particular 15 year-old was in black sweats, black socks, black sneakers, a black bandana around her neck, a black bandana mask, and a black bandana kerchief, since she hasn’t a black ski mask or a black winter hat. She climbed out the window and dashed into the night.

She ran. She ran and ran some more. She never ran out of breath. She knew the route and all its dangers. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be in that house anymore. She didn’t want to be in the care of a foster family and have siblings who saw her as a mouth stealing food from them. In short, she wanted to be anywhere but there.

She turned down a street and continued her dash. Then she saw a police cruiser coming, and she turned a hard left into the woods to avoid being spotted. When the car had passed, she resumed her quest. Only another quarter mile. Her previous stints in juvenile detention had already built up her muscles and stamina. There it was, the graveyard. Now, she followed the route that she knew like the back of her hand until she found it.


Bernard Voisin, Sr. 1940-2008
Anne Voisin 1942-2005
Bernard Voisin, Jr. 1965-2008


There they were. Her grandparents and her favorite uncle, all in one place. A car accident had taken both Sr. and Jr. while “Uncle Junior” was taking “Grandpa” home from his colonoscopy. The accident had happened while the young girl was in juvie; cancer had claimed Grandma just a few years before. The girl curled up in a ball and fell asleep while leaning against the stone; big tears were rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t care that it was starting to rain.

“Hannah,” Ashley wiped her tears on a lacy handkerchief she took from her purse, “Take pics of me with Momma and Poppa. I wish to remember this day.”
“For you, Ashley,” I took the phone from her, “For you.”

As it turned out, there were indeed things that people from the church had taken from Ashley’s childhood home, things they thought Ashley might want. They kept it all from photos to clocks to pots and pans. Ashley hadn’t seen any of it since that day in 2009. What kind of extremist nutjob does it take to say that Ashley was the monster for shooting the person who’d only a few moments before murdered her parents in cold blood?

Did Judge LeBlanc really think that it was the sexual abuser who was the victim and that Ashley was supposed to just smile and let him do those things to her? Was my girlfriend supposed to sit and smile mindlessly while her father bound and gagged her and r-ped her? Did Judge LeBlanc have the hard-on for pedophiles, or was she against guns that badly? Sorry, I’m emotional, but I know now that Michela was Judge LeBlanc’s last such act of evil. The protests went on outside the courthouse during and after Michela’s trial for so long that LeBlanc eventually moved out of Minnesota…

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 005: Mary-Ann’s Big Stretch Part 2
Monday, July 19, 2010

“Mary-Ann,” an officer woke her up, “Come on, Mary-Ann, let’s go home.”
“I want to be here. With Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle Junior,” she grumbled.
“It’s OK to want to be with them. You first should ask your parents and only visit during the day lest someone bad find you first. Come on, Mary-Ann.”
“Yes, officer,” she took off her mask and looked down in defeat.

That afternoon, the young girl did her research. She took the book from her foster mom’s BMW and read it during her usual bedtime reading, absorbing every detail. If she just connected these two wires, then she’d be good to go. Yes, a car chase was going to be how she landed herself in the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center once again. In juvie, she had a roof, clothes, and lots of other kids just like her, kids who either were unloved by their parents or were disgusted with the foster system. She had the guards who were usually the nicest people, regular meals, a TV that she didn’t want to watch, and other kids with whom to play! There was a nice teacher, and she didn’t need permission to get a snack as long as she’d been a good girl all day.

“Hannah, we have time before we go out to lunch. Can we go home and play TUGs?” Ashley sniffed when we got in the car.
“Why do you want to do that?” I asked her.
“I want to feel that tight hug again and talk to you some more,” she wouldn’t look at me.
“Ashley, we can…”
“I don’t want to talk right now,” she rolled herself to look right out the window.
“We’re feeling it, Hannah,” Mary-Ann quietly spoke in my ear, “Let her be.”

Ashley, I learned, had moments like these since her release. Moments where she’d just freeze up and need to be left alone with her thoughts. Mary-Ann and I talked about our hopes for our next Tied After Class gigs, with me having a job this evening, in fact, to help truss up a new girl who wanted to get into the softer side of the bondage industry. Kendra had fulfilled her promise to help me get that money.

During those last 15 months that Ashley had spent in juvie without me, she’d grown despondent, I think, because she was the last one of us all left in there. She was there before Mary-Ann came in for her last stretch, and she was there for 6 months after Michela got out. Unlike the rest of us, she had been passed over by Mr. Reardon. She’d built up friendships with Mary-Ann first, then Michela, then Kylie, then me and Kendra. Then Kendra and M.A. left 6 months after I arrived. Then another 7 months later I left. Then 4 months after that Kylie left. Another 6 months later Michela left, and Ashley was left alone. All of us, except Kylie, returned to visit at some point, but that was a max of 1.5 hours total visitation in a week as opposed to spending every moment out of the cell with us, or nearly 80 hours in a week. Ashley had always been the quiet girl who would go into funks like this, but I think during those years without me and Mary-Ann she grew to appreciate the seriousness of her situation and finally settled into fully accepting that what had happened to her that day in 2009 was real and that she’d never wake up from the nightmare. She wasn’t suicidal, but she’d gotten comfortable with performing the dangerous act of overthinking.

“Ashley, we’re here,” I said to her.
“Thank you so much for taking me. Will you come in with me?” she never turned to me.
“Of course I will. May Mary-Ann please come with us?” I asked her as kindly as I could.
“No. She can come after we’ve talked.”
“Why do you look up to me like a mother figure?”
“Because you are a mother and always will be in God’s eyes,” she said softly and walked away.

I followed behind her all the way to the bedroom she had all to herself to satisfy the state’s rules before M.A. could have custody of Ashley. She shut the door and sat down on the bed, patting a seat next to her to indicate she wanted me to sit too. I sat down, and all Ashley did was hug me. I don’t know what was racing through that ever active mind of hers, but it calmed her down very well. Whatever she needed, she got out of it. In her hand was a coil of clothesline.

“I’m OK. If it’s OK, tie me up first, and then we’ll talk.”

► Show Spoiler

THE MUDVILLE TIMES, July 21, 2010
CHASE ENDS IN ARREST
Mary-Ann Voisin, 15, was a girl on a mission. She hotwired her foster parent’s BMW and led police on a chase across Minneapolis for almost an hour before the car ran out of gas. A motive has not been established yet. Bail was set at $150,000.

Interlude 006: Mary-Ann’s Big Stretch Part 3
Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The girl made sure she was alone before she opened the door. She could have just taken the keys if she knew where her foster mother kept them! Alas, this was how it had to be! She had walked out of school to play hooky; school was so easy that she could get high A’s without attending just by going home and reading the book over and over. Sometimes, kids paid her to help them to get good grades.

She used a screwdriver to pull the bottom cover off the dash. If she touched these two together and then those two… the YouTube video said so. Did she hear it right? YES! The car roared to life! She had it! She figured it out! She put on her seatbelt, and she wailed on the horn. Oh, she was going to rub this in! She put the car in reverse and carefully backed it out of the driveway to get into the street, and she put it in drive just as her foster mother came out.

“MARY-ANN?! What are you doing?!”
“See ya!” she waved as she drove away.

It only took 15 minutes before there was a cop on her rear bumper, ordering her to stop the car. She had a BMW though! She put the pedal to the floor and zoomed away from the cops. She’d seen enough fancy sports car races on the TV, from her foster father, to know that maintaining such speed wasn’t too smart, and she flew down an off ramp, turned off the road, and began to zig-zag through a neighborhood. She’d lost the cops for now, and she knew there’d be one big manhunt for her now! Then, as she pulled back out onto the main road, the car jerked to a halt with a sputter. No gas! A series of police cars quickly swarmed her.

The young girl in blue gym shorts and a red tank-top got on her knees on the asphalt and held her hands high above her head before she was cuffed and loaded into a police cruiser. The cops took her to the place where she wanted to be: Mudville Juvenile Detention Center. This would, if she could help it, be her home for the next 3 years of her life.

I dared it. I tied Ashley’s elbows tightly behind her back. She took it just as well as Maddy can, which is any rigger’s delight. I then tied her wrists together before tying a crushing waist rope and a basic harness with ropes on either side of her tits. I tied her legs at the ankles, knees, and upper and lower thighs. I didn’t spare her at all and tied her just like I would tie Maddy.

“It’s like a hug,” she smiled and squirmed, “Thank you, Hannah.”
“You ask to be tied up when you want to be intimate with me. Why?” I tested her.
“Because it’s secure. I can’t escape it,” she held back something, “Just like I can't escape love.”
“Ashley,” I wrapped her in a hug, “You’re the little sister I always wanted.”
“Thank you so much for taking me to Elko. Hannah, I mean it! I love you so much!”
“I’m glad to be of help. Now, why did you want to be alone?”
“Uhhhh,” she hesitated and went down the trauma path.
“I’m here to help you,” I assured her.
“Use my phone. Search for Joseph-Marie Calland on Facebook,” she gritted her teeth.
“Why haven’t you done it yourself?” I kept challenging the young girl, “Is it a trigger?”
“Mmm hmm,” she nodded and winced and became a bit nervous at the thought..
“All right. Is that him?” I showed her one.
“No, the home should be Orléans, France,” she said it perfectly, “I studied French in juvie so I wouldn’t forget how to speak it.”
“How about this one? Orléans, France. Wife is Virginie, Chloé turned 16 recently?”
“YES! Oh my God! You found them,” she jumped up, “YESSSS! YES YES YES! Hannah, that’s Dad’s brother! Send him a friend request and get ready to send a message!”
“What’s going on in here?” Mary-Ann entered the room uninvited and saw the captive bouncing.
“She found my uncle!” Ashley was as animated as a bound person could be, “Hannah, let’s do it and then look for Sylvie Rossi.”

I spent the next 30 minutes searching for people, sending them friend requests, and sending them custom messages all for the bound Ashley. There was an excitement in her eyes; her sadness did not leave; her parents were dead; but she had loved ones out there! There they were, people she missed and loved and who she knew missed her and loved her. How she bounced with the thrill! In spite of her fears, there was family out there! I admit it was slow trying to write in French.

Now, it was time to introduce Ashley to the next gag I wanted to teach her: mouth stuffed, cleave gagged, and tape gagged. It was the Cool Girls’ Club classic! I had to make it a light version for the newbie, so she got clean socks, a black bandana, and nice black duct tape. Just because she was a rookie didn’t mean I didn’t make it tight, and I even put her in a hogtie and blindfolded her with, of course, a black bandana! Ashley to this day uses bondage as an escape from the chronic stress her past brings her.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 007: Mary-Ann’s Big Stretch Part 4
Tuesday, July 20, 2010

“You’re back again?” the guard, Mrs. Jennifer Copley, asked Mary-Ann.
“I’m where I want to be,” the girl said regretfully, “I want to be here. You care about me.”
“Now, Mary, is that the truth? No one cares about you?”
“No foster family cares. They tie me up and beat me and treat me like trash.”
“That’s not true,” Mrs. Copley said.
“Whatever,” Mary-Ann wiped a tear from her eyes, “Hi, Ashley.”
“Hi, Mary-Ann,” the girl smiled from the table, “You came back.”
“I even ended up in Pod F!”

Mary-Ann sat down with the girl who was playing solitaire. None of the other inmates wanted to play with her because she was a 12 year-old. Most of them were 15-17 and not interested in the tween who was here long term. Mary-Ann cared, though, and the older girl had promised she’d one day end up with her again. The last time they were imprisoned in the same block was in the old Mudville Juvie, which had a much grimmer and different format.



In the old juvie, where Ashley was first brought, the blocks looked like the photo, with each girl in her own cell instead of two to a cell as in the new juvie. Everything in that facility was older and rundown, and finally people began complaining that the facility was only encouraging girls to give up on life rather than providing any sort of hope. The new facility was built, and during the days January 16th and 17th of 2010, all of the girls were moved from the old facility to the new one, including Ashley Calland.

“Mmmmm!” Ashley struggled in her hogtie with a happy tone in her voice.
“She likes it,” I took pictures of her in true Cool Girls’ Club fashion.
“Hannah, I wish you’d recognize what you mean to that girl,” Mary-Ann said, “You’re a hero.”
“I’m still trying to accept that I can be a good person, let alone a hero,” I admitted my flaws.
“You’re going to tie up that new girl and turn her into an inveterate kinkster, right?”
“That’s my goal. I know nothing about her. Seriously!”
“Mmmmm!” the young girl was so pretty in her all black clothing.

I study the playful struggle which distracts the young girl. Bondage takes many of your senses away, particularly sight, taste, and touch. It can take smell and hearing away, too, if you do it all right. In the case of the girl in all black, so doing overwhelms her overactive mind, suppressing her natural inclinations to overthink situations and recall the past. She is able to calm down and think clearly about things when tied up. As I said, even today, she will come up to me and ask if I will tie her up in her room and leave her there for a while.

It hurt me, but I hid it. My bouncy friend probably psychologically suffered the most of all of us who survived Pod F. She is probably also the one who is naturally the most innocent and good. I do not understand why that evil judge did what she did to Ashley, but I am glad that altogether we were able to transform this jewel into something sparkling and worthy of sharing with every person we meet. Ashley today is a lay reader and catechist in our church, just like her parents.

The adorable girl in the black clothes, my friend, my number one reason to live, Ashley needed me more than Michela did. Michela, my girlfriend, whom I adored, would be forlorn with me no longer living with her in a few months, but she would get by thanks to her family. M.A., Kendra, and I were this girl's entire world, and she'd already hand picked us for different roles of mother, auntie, and sister. I was the mother despite us saying we were the sisters we never had. Maddy was the auntie, and Kendra was the sister.

“Mmmm!” she played in her inescapable prison, although inescapable depends on experience.
“Isn't she so cute?” Mary-Ann watched her squirming.
“I think so. I’m not attracted to her like I usually am to girls,” I enjoyed the sight.
“Believe me, she's something else. We went to Meijer on Thursday, and she stared at half of the store. She just drank it in with wonder like someone plucked out of darkest Africa.”
“Ashley, do you want to come out, or will you promise to wear pants and a long-sleeve shirt to the restaurant? Snap once for pants, and snap thrice for freedom.”
“Mmmmm,” she paused in thought before snapping three times.
“Freedom it is, Gangsta Kid!”

Thus, the Gangsta Kid was declared. We had a Gangsta Queen, Princess, and Friend. Over time, we added the Sneak, Crab, Jock, Chick, Row, and Girl. The Kid is still my favorite of all though. I love her, and having her under my roof has been infinitely more joy than pain even as a mother of one who is (as of this writing) expecting number two.

Ashley isn't straight, lesbian, bisexual, or asexual. She's Ashley, the bondage-sexual girl. I’ve caught her in indiscretion with Michela, come home to her engaging in sex with a man her age, and seen her dominate a room full of girls using a strap-on. I think bondage is the only way she feels comfortable with sexuality because her mind is seared by what happened. It damaged her mind right at puberty, and she hotwired her mind to block it. Her first exposure to real sexuality was through us and bondage. All those cases, including Michela, saw someone tied up. Only girl who liked girls who never got a piece of Ashley was… me, and I admit I never for a second wanted a piece of her. Well, we got pieces of each other, but that was for gnarly bondage films.

“May I change before we go? I want to get my sad clothes off.”
“You don't need my permission to do that!” I laughed a little.
“Don't laugh at me for that! I’m trying to show you respect!”
“Awww, Ashley,” Mary-Ann took over, “Yes, change. You don't need to ask anymore.”
“Thanks. Hannah, I’m going to really annoy you and call you ‘Mom.’”
“Go ahead!” I said, and she still does sometime call me ‘Mom’ to my delight.

Out we went to lunch. I had my orange trainers and kerchief with my white t-shirt. Maddy had those tight black shorts, the pink t-shirt with a curved neck, and the pink bandana headband. Ash had blue trainers and a matching bandana headband and a red shirt. After a morning of bonding, we all smiled for once, even Maddy and Ash.

Mary-Ann loves nothing more than breakfast. It was her favorite before and during juvie, and it is her favorite after juvie as well. Teddy’s All-Day Breakfast was special to her as the last place she went out to eat with Grandpa Voisin before his untimely passing. It was also where we met a week before to celebrate what was immortalized in our hearts as “The Incredible Triumph of Pod F.” How many more memories would we make here? We were about to make yet another, lucky us.

“Maddy, how did Kenny and Ash get polluted when you’re so plain?” I coyly asked my friend.
“Polluted?!” Mary-Ann withdrew at that, “You’re being silly, Hannah!”
“Ashley wants a belly button piercing; Kendra wants a tattoo,” I smiled at the quiet brunette who was attentively listening.
“Oh, that,” M.A. smiled, “I don’t know where she got the idea, but… I think it’s like a personal little memorial.”
“I just know I love her and made a promise to her to make sure she got it.”
“That’s why she wanted to get it with you in particular,” M.A. put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder.
“Why that, Ash?” I asked her.
“It’s private. It’s only visible when I choose. Yet it’s beautiful. Just like I carry private sorrow that no one will understand unless I choose to share it with them,” Ashley explained in her own way, “None of you knew me before that day.”

The food was delicious. Yummy, crisp, buttery Belgian waffles were so delicious. Repetition is a necessity here; there was no describing how good it was. No wonder Mary-Ann was so fond of this place. My past occasions here were so filled with emotions that I never got to appreciate the food. This was food of the gods!

Ashley, so adorable, enjoyed a stack of blueberry pancakes. She enjoyed them so much, and we didn’t need to talk too much. The smiles on all of our faces were enough. We were successful if we could afford to meet up so frequently; dare I say that God… had been good to us? What was important, I think, was that we all seemed cognizant of this, and we took nothing for granted.

It would have been a poignant enough moment, but we were interrupted by the sound of a call; it was no ordinary call though. This was a Facebook call; the caller was Ashley’s uncle! Success! Oh, the joy on Ashley’s face when she talked to her own flesh and blood for the first time since that awful day 6 years ago. Tears were pouring down her cheeks while she spoke in her native tongue to someone so dear to her heart.

Then my phone rang. Joy Fredericks? Why?!

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Ashley is going to be left with Michela and Luisa. Which girl will Hannah and Mary-Ann find as a damsel-in-distress?

(A) Ashley, she's clearly a pro at convincing people to tie her up
(B) Luisa, since Ashley wants to try tying up someone she already likes
(C) Michela, Luisa teaches Ashley how to tie up someone the right way

[RopeBunny]

A.

Liked the church scene, the discovery of her being back. Well written.

[silvertejp590]

A!

[hafnermg]

Losing 1 parent as an adult it tough. I can't imagine losing both as a kid. Good thing she had a good cry though. If you don't let those cries out in time like that the tears become like razor blades inside you. Glad she had people with her.

I vote A!! Though you could combine A and B by having Ashley talk her into it.

[AlexUSA3]

A.

Liked the church scene, the discovery of her being back. Well written.

Thank you very much for the kind words. It was a different scene for me to write as well.

Losing 1 parent as an adult it tough. I can't imagine losing both as a kid. Good thing she had a good cry though. If you don't let those cries out in time like that the tears become like razor blades inside you. Glad she had people with her.

It's not only losing both as a kid but also being the victim of what happened before and after.

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, and @LunaDog

"A" wins, and Ashley will be the one found tied up.

Chapter 003: Nichole Blakely
Saturday, May 16, 2015

“Joy? Is that you?” I asked in shock upon answering the phone, “How are you?! Oh, my God, Joy! I am so sorry for how I treated you before and…”
“Can you come over to my place? Now. Nichole needs you. It's important. Get Jenny.”
“What's wrong with Nichole? Joy, what's…,” she hung up on me.
“Hannah, what's wrong with Nichole for real?” M.A. asked me.
“I don't know. Let's pay and get out here. Ash, you're going to Michela’s, OK?”
“Sweet! Maybe Lou will teach me how to play video games!”

It had been years since I had been to Joy’s. The last time I was there was the day that I exiled myself from the Cool Girls’ Club for over 4 years of lonely suffering. There was chaos that was caused by me and Casey; we were young and arrogant and angry at our lives. We were bullies. That weekend, we hurt Joy, Jenny, and Nichole. Jenny and Nichole told us to go and think about what we’d done; Joy told us to leave and to never return.

I dropped off Ash without a hitch, but as I drove to Jenny’s I felt a sickness growing in my stomach, the sickness associated with my past actions. I had tried to apologize for what I’d done some months ago, but Joy responded by blocking me on Facebook. My texts bounced; now she called me? And she ordered me around. I felt like garbage. I was scum in her eyes, and I felt she hated me for being a convict.

“Jenny, get in,” I told the Gangsta Princess.
“Hannah, Mary-Ann!” she bounced like a bunny, “What's going on? Joy said it had something to do with Nichole!”
“I don't know,” I was honest with her, “Jenny, Joy hates me, doesn't she?”
“Hannah, I… Yes, yes, Joy hates you without cause. Nichole, Casey, and I have tried for years to get her to forgive you, since you got arrested. Her sister is leery but wants to give you a chance. I’m sorry.”
“What did you do to her?” Mary-Ann asked me.
“Let me explain…”

Behind me sat the lovable little Gangsta Princess, Jenny Danielle Kristensen. She is only 5’1”, but in love she's a giant. She wore red gym shorts and a matching bandana headband with a brown tank top. Her long blonde-brown hair is in a braid, and a pink scrunchie is holding that braid. She's clearly hoping for bondage based on the bag she has with her.

It was with a grimace that Joy let me in and with absolute disgust that she let Maddy into the home. Maddy sat on the stairs in confused rejection. Jenny and I sat down on the sofa while Nichole played the piano. I don't know what she played, but she played with a broken heart. When she stopped playing, we all clapped for her. Mary-Ann, Casey, Jenny, Zoe, Joy, and I are all here for her.

► Show Spoiler

THE MUDVILLE TIMES, July 24, 2010
SPEEDY TRIAL FOR TEENAGE GIRL CAR THIEF
“Your honor, if you could choose between getting beaten and tied up and kidnapped by your foster parent’s enemies or being in juvie with other girls who are just like you, which would you choose? The only reason I did it was because I’d rather be in juvie than in foster care,” Mary-Ann Voisin, 15, said with tears. She pleaded with Judge Mason for an hour until he agreed to sentence her until July of 2013, by which time Voisin would be an adult.

Mary-Ann was recently arrested for car theft, reckless driving, driving without a license, driving to endanger, resisting arrest, and several other charges.


Interlude 008: Mary-Ann’s Big Stretch Part 5
Friday, July 23, 2010

The troubles racked up over time…


“Why did you come back here?” asked one girl called Kristine Thompson.
“I didn’t want to be out there! I wanted to be in here!” the inmate responded.
“Mary-Ann, but why? I don’t get it.”
“No one out there loves me anymore. I’m not allowed to see the people who love me.”
“Why do you believe that?”
“Foster families. I got kidnapped because of one,” Mary-Ann responded softly, “Some tied me up and beat me! One tied me up for bed so I wouldn’t run away.”

Then Mary-Ann was silent for the rest of recreation time. She quietly retired to her cell and did the only things she knew how to do: cry and pray.

Nichole stood up, turned around, and looked at us all except the hidden Mary-Ann. In silence, she began removing her clothes. revealing a multitude of injuries. There were bruises and cuts, including one actively bleeding slice. Jenny grew wide-eyed; never had she imagined Nichole was an abused child.

Casey Clark had a strong faith that made her dependable. A stroke didn't kill the 5’4” blonde girl, and she came back stronger. Casey, more than this, was abandoned at the fire station as a baby and never knew her biological parents. This girl survived storms as severe as those I faced. A paisley fuschia kerchief hides the scar from the surgeries that saved her life; fuschia trainers and a black hood accompany that. Stroke face still remained at this point.

“What happened?!” the Gangsta Princess stood up, and their eyes met.
“Jenny, my daddy regularly beats me,” Nichole broke her heart.
“He what?!” the innocent rope bunny was gone forever, “Sis, no!”
“This explains a lot,” Casey leaned back and slurred, “I’m sorry, Gangsta Queen.”
“Nichole…,” Jenny was terrified and started crying because of her love for Nichole.
“Quiet,” Nichole holds up her hand, “Bestie, sis, it's time for you to know the truth. Hannah, Joy, you figure out to tie up me, my sister, and this gorgeous little Gangsta Friend. You’ll gag us safely, take us somewhere to be alone, abandon us, and give us time to escape.”

Joy bit her lip. I felt a burn in my crotch; I was sexually attracted to her. Big time. I see a guilt in her eyes. Purple leggings show off her lack of muscle, but she has such a cute figure. A pink v-neck t-shirt makes her tits obvious to me. A brown bandana headband rounded it off. She was a Cool Girl without question, but one who struggled to forgive. I had done horrible things to her, but she had forgiven Casey. Why not me?

Jenny ran into Nichole's arms, and they hugged. Jenny sobbed loudly in agony. Jenny had suffered the pain of a brother dying, and now the sister who replaced that brother was in pain as well. She couldn't take it. Her life was ruined. Innocent Jenny died at that moment, and she became an adult even if one with a childish spring still. Today was the day she learned that adulthood was inescapable. The best friends sat down on the sofa between me and Casey.

“Nichole, if you’d rather stay here, you know you’re welcome to spend the night here,” Joy invited her.
“Thanks, but it’s over, Joy. I’m not going back there. I’m 19. I don’t have to be beaten and have that man touching my breasts and lower lips because she won’t let him touch hers,” she admitted to sexual a pbuse too.
“You’re still bloody back here,” I observed, “Please, Nichole, let someone bandage you up.”
“I can help,” Mary-Ann came out from the stairwell.
“Who’s this again?” Nichole forgot her name so soon.
“That’s Mary-Ann Voisin, my podmate,” I proudly announced.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 009: Mary-Ann’s Life Part 1
Wednesday, April 9, 2008

“Guhhhhh!” Mary-Ann groaned.

She was just 13, almost 14, years old. Her current foster family, in a desperate bid to keep her from running away, tied her spreadeagle on a bed. To keep her from crying out, they gagged her, just a bandana cleave gag and strips of duct tape. Silk scarves tied M.A. in a taut X.

“We’re sorry, Mary-Ann, you keep running away. Please stop!” the mother was exhausted.
“Mmmmm! Guh huh huh!” the teenager cried, but she learned too…
“If you don't want to be tied up, then don't run away!”
“Uh uh ahn o e hied hup! Hleathe!” Mary-Ann wailed into the gag.
“If you would stop running away, this wouldn't happen.”
“-ou hahe he hutht ike hy harenth!” she told them how she felt.

The scarves weren't enough to keep Mary-Ann in place though. She extricated herself from her prison and unpeeled the gag to spit out the bandana. Keeping herself barefoot, she tiptoed down the stairs and out the front door, ignoring the security system that screamed out into the night. It didn't matter where she went from here as long as she went to juvie again.

She ran off across the street, past a neighbor's house and into the woods where she knew she'd eventually find the school yard. No one would look for her in the school. The longer the hunt for her, the longer the time away from that foster home where they spanked her and slapped her for being Roman Catholic. It wasn't the first or last time a foster family tried to beat the “Papist error” and “Mary worship” out of her.

In the school yard she slept until daylight. When she heard cars, she knew she was visible again, and she hopped the fence back into the woodlands to await the arrival of her classmates. Being called the “crazy one” by the kids of Savage-Mudville Middle School did her no favors. At the time, she never knew she'd be friends with some of those kids some day. Casey Clark was one in particular. Mudville had only one high school, but it had two middle schools. She had no idea of all the future friends that awaited her in the proper Mudville Middle School.

“Mary-Ann, are you all right?” an officer on the schoolyard side of the fence called to her.

Wide-eyed and scared, the girl dashed into the woods again. She was fast for her size and age; it was all credited to how much running she did, running to hide. The officer radioed ahead to his colleagues, and the young girl dashed around a house and under a porch. She knew her capture loomed near now. Rather than continue this, with tears pouring down her cheeks, she crawled out from under the porch.

“This one again. Throw her in a cell until tomorrow,” she heard a voice say at the precinct.

The cell was cold and scary, but she wasn't in the foster home or getting beaten. This family in particular had gone so far as to break her rosary beads, shred her prayer cards, and ban her from wearing her Miraculous Medal. It had been heartbreaking, and twice she had spent some of her time in hiding at the local Catholic church, Sts. Peter and Paul. Now she was in a cold cell with no other kids around, and wondered… what if they sent her to Shakopee instead?

I felt a strange sensation and saw Joy scowling at me and at the same time lusting for me. What the f-ck, Joy? You're… dehumanizing me. I hadn't felt so small, like such rubbish, since the day my ex taped me, r-ped me, and left me in a basement to die. On the other side from me is Zoe, who is kind and scared but willing to give me another chance. Am I a lesser person because I went inside?

“You’re ripped up pretty badly, but we can close it up with some stirry-strips,” Maddy smiled in her positive spirit.
“Why did you come?” Nichole asked her with a misunderstanding tone.
“Because Hannah was distressed about Joy’s tone, and we were out to lunch at the moment,” Mary-Ann brushed it off.
“Nichole…,” Jenny gripped her and cried some more, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?! My dad and Casey’s dad work for the police system!”
“Because you were happy and innocent and not ready to handle it. Oooh, that stings.”
“I barely know you, but I have a lot of experience with helping suffering souls,” M.A. held out a hand to Nichole.

I let Mary-Ann handle it. She took lots of first aid courses in juvie. Deep down, none of the graduates of Pod F knew how to bear a soul like Mary-Ann Voisin. That’s part of why she was the one who got our dearest Ashley. I sat down on the sofa again to talk to Casey. It wasn't special besides telling her about Ashley and our plans to get our belly buttons pierced.

“Casey, you won,” I sheepishly admitted, “I… I believe in God finally.”
“Don't rush it,” she smiled, “Let it come naturally. He knows your heart.”
“Mary-Ann, I do not know you at all. Are you, um, familiar with us?” Nichole asked her when they walked out of the bathroom.
“I work as a bondage model alongside Hannah and host TUG parties for my friends. Is that adequate?” Mary-Ann smiled in her own way.
“Yes, it is. Want to play a game with us? Be tied up alongside us?” Nichole loved us!
“Are you…,” Joy grew fearful at this, “Inviting a stranger into our Club?”
“Ummm… I trust this one. I trust Hannah, and I can see that she and this one have transformed from common convicts into good people of the same caliber as us,” and a gleam caught Nichole’s eyes, “You wear a crucifix. Are you Catholic?”
“Thanks for noticing,” Mary-Ann clasped her hands behind her back.

I proudly stood in our prison stance. Left hand clasped my right. We were perfectly erect in our stance, and I perfectly marched over to join Mary-Ann. Zoe is uncertain how to respond, and Joy is so scared now that she's losing her color. Jenny hasn't any fears of us, and Casey loved us. Nichole knew she could trust us.

Joy was inescapable. She wanted Mary-Ann too. Lusting and detesting. Disgusting is the word. How could she self-righteously condemn us while lusting after us and being known as the school tramp? Mary-Ann wasn't charmed, but she also has a font of love like Jenny. Asserting her size, Mary-Ann cleared her throat.

“How about I get tied up first?” M.A. suggested, “Will that make you feel safe around a girl who only boosted cars to get back into juvenile detention because it was a better and more dependable life than foster care?” she continued, “Oh, you think I’m so bad for being a convict, don’t you?” she contains her righteous anger, “You see a girl who spent 80% of her life from when she was 12 in prison?” Maddy paused a moment and took a breath, “It was better than being kidnapped by a foster family’s enemies or getting beaten or being physically and/or emotionally abused by other foster families,” never had she expressed her pain so eloquently, but her soliloquy wasn't finished yet, “Or do you wish I leave under your self-righteous condemnation? As if you’re not looking at me and lusting after my boobs?”

So Joy was so obviously bisexual that even M.A. could see it so clearly. Joy looked all around her in an effort to find an escape from us. My personal indignation on behalf of M.A. must have been obvious because Nichole took over the situation before it turned into something ugly.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 010: Mary-Ann’s Life Part 2
Tuesday, August 18, 2009

“Take that!” Mary-Ann, now 14 stood over her foster sister.
“GMMMM!” groaned the smaller, but older, girl of 17 years.
“That should get me where I want to go!”
“MMMMMMMM!” the girl screamed.
“Carrie, I’m sorry. I really am. I truly like you, but I don’t want to be a foster child,” Mary-Ann was quite apologetic, “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Mary-Ann?! What is this?!” entered her foster father.
“I’m teaching the b-tch a lesson,” Mary-Ann said with pride before giving the girl a spank.
“Mmmmm!”
“That does it! I’m calling the police. Your life here is over!”

This time was a success! She was taken to juvie! To her disappointment, though, the judge only gave her probation. She was taken from juvie back to yet another foster home. Her 13th arrest was unlucky and led to her 13th foster home. Failure again…

September 5, 2009

Her hair was always in the way! Black shorts, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, a black kerchief, and a black mask were the best she could do. She had been to the local Aaron’s with her foster mother two days before, and she had paid attention to the showroom floor. If she smashed in the front door just so, take a left and go 100 feet, she’d be at the TV. It was an easy way to get in, get out, and get busted in possession of something expensive. She was already on probation for what she had done to Carrie.

The security system going off didn't stop her from hopping on her foster brother’s bicycle and riding into town. She had to move quickly, and soon she was at the Aaron’s. No one would look for her in town when she almost always went to the cemetery! That bought her time. A hammer took out the glass, and the Aaron’s theft was underway. In no time, she was carrying the TV she had picked out before; it was in her hands, just as a police car arrived on the scene. Every cop in Mudville knew her by now, and she was on a first name basis with at least 80% of them. After she dropped the TV, the police calmly pulled up beside her.

“Come on, Mary-Ann. Give it up.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, acting like she hadn't been crying from before she left the house.

This time, Mary-Ann went to juvie, and she got what she wanted: a 6 month sentence.

“Look, I am going to ask for something terrible before the main game begins. Any girl with a cruel streak is welcome to come. That means no Jenny or Casey for sure. Any of the rest of you may come. Joy will come.”
“Nichole, I’m staying back. I think you should take the other three,” Zoe smiled at M.A.
“Well, thank you! I just met most of you, and most of you are very sweet!” M.A. smiled back.
“All right, all right,” I jumped up as well, “I’ve told Nichole what I can do with a TV audience.”
“Nichole,” Jenny whimpered before we departed, “I… I love you.”

I never considered that Mary-Ann was a year older than me. She was as close to Zoe’s age as she was to Joy’s. That was the beginning of Mary-Ann’s friendship with a new girl. Maddy, if college had been an option, would have been finishing her sophomore year. Maddy deeply felt Jenny’s pain in that statement, and she made an instant connection with Jenny too. Joy didn’t cease her fearful body language even as we walked into the unfinished side of the basement, into a room with exposed rafters that looked perfect for strappado bondage. Nichole handed her bag of TUG toys to me.

“Girls, I want my hands tied in front, and I want to be gagged. Whoever dares will feel me up and spank me, but not too much. Anything more is for Chris to do first if I marry him someday. After that’s done, we’ll play the regular game,” Nichole was now the one who was whimpering while she looked up at the rafters.
“Just… um… why?” I asked her knowing too well what trauma was, “Facing trauma head-on?”
“Exactly. I have my own kinks because of my trauma… spanking and fondling while tied up,” she sadly admitted.
“It’s strange how your experiences affect your sexuality and what excites you,” Mary-Ann might have had a flip phone, but she sure was smart!
“Mary-Ann, would you do it as the tallest one of us? Joy, tie up my legs well. Hannah, gag me.”
“Only if it will help you,” Joy took my hand, “I owe you for what you’ve done for me.”

Mary-Ann jumped on a chair to string up Nichole’s wrists into the rafter. Joy tied her ankles. I grabbed one of those fun rubber balls from the TUG sorority, a bright blue one for the Gangsta Queen who loved blue, and gagged her with it. It was strange to see Nichole bare-breasted. She was emotionally vulnerable too.

I’d seen the pictures of Joseph Palmeri… with his family… before Michela angrily smashed that picture off the wall and stomped it into the ground while screaming hysterically. I tragically had the ability to picture Nichole getting physically and sexually abused by some drunken Irishman who… had no respect for anyone but himself and the male hoodlums called his sons.

“You asked for it,” Maddy kindly took Nichole’s bare tits in her hands, “Ready?”
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole nodded.
M.A. squeezed Nichole’s tits, “Is that good?”
“Uh huh,” Nichole nodded in a show of trust of my friend.
“And this?” SMACK! she spanked Nichole with a perfect technique.
“Mmmm!”

I decided to leave them alone. Joy couldn’t get Mary-Ann no matter what she tried, and I think Joy was finally becoming comfortable. I calmly ascended the stairs with a smile in my heart as I readied myself to kidnap a Gangsta Princess. Jenny was a girl full of hope and joy, and I knew I would likely find a smiling girl who had already moved on to relief over her friend’s escape, just as she so quickly moved from shock over what had happened to me to helping me overcome it. She and Casey would make amazing company for Nichole since they both were so close to the Gangsta Queen’s heart.

I had been beaten to the punch, it seemed. Jenny had already kidnapped Casey. If Jenny is going to kidnap anyone, it’s going to be Casey or Nichole; they’re just about the only people who tickle her kidnapping fancies. That sweet girl known as the Gangsta Friend has her crossed wrists tied behind her back with a standard harness, a waist rope, and no more hoodie jacket. From the gag being still exposed, I supposed it was the gag which Casey had created for her own self-bondage play. The gag involved taking one sock and stuffing it in the other; then a bandana would be tied around the neck of the outer sock so that it’d be difficult to choke on the gag. In this case, there was a red bandana around the socks that gagged Casey.

“MMMMM!” Casey greeted me in the living room.
“Hannah, is Nichole doing better?” Jenny asked hopefully, having none of her rope bunny energy.
“Gangsta Princess, I intend to prove to you that she is going to be OK,” I smiled.
“Mmmm,” the bound and gagged girl, black bandana and sock gagged just like Casey, agreed.
“Here we go!” I said to Zoe while admiring the identically bound girls.
“Indeed we go!” Zoe jerks on the lead rope as we go down the stairs.

Nichole. Nichole, I love you differently. I love you as a friend. Friends hate to see friends in so much pain. I saw a distressed girl, scared, crying on the ground. I knelt beside her and hugged her with one arm while fluffing her hair with my free hand. I feel the pain. I know the pain. My home is no longer home either. It had been over two years since I last saw my parents.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 011: Mary-Ann’s Life Part 3
Friday, May 28, 2010

“Gah!” Mary-Ann yelled into the gag while she was beaten with a switch.
“You keep attacking your siblings, and you keep bringing popery in here!”
“Eh e o!” she cried when another whack came down.
“Not until you repent, young lady!”
“No!” the poor girl was tied over a stool while in just her underwear.
“Stubborn demon child!l”

Bondage, domination, submission, and sadism were frequent parts of her life. Never did she connect her past to her kinks until I put it together for her at her 20th birthday party. Was it any wonder she ran away from home so many times? That she clutched her crucifix and Miraculous Medal any time she was in distress? That she cowered in the sight of sadness?

She ran away for the 71st time, again to be found in the cemetery, again to be held in the local precinct overnight in a vain attempt to scare her into no longer running away. It wasn't working, though; instead, it made her hate her life more and more. She exited jail to go to her 15th foster family.

All those things she did. Duct taping and hog tying her siblings was cruel, and she did it 17 times. She was only arrested for it 5 times. She learned a lot from being bound, gagged, and beaten: how to bind and gag. Never once did she harm her foster siblings though except for the one spank. She didn't want to hurt a soul, and she often cried as she did it. It was a desperate attempt though.

What she really wanted was to have Uncle Junior and Grandpa Voisin back.

“Hannah… I don't understand why even though I know why,” she whimpered.
“My girlfriend… I met her inside,” I told Nichole, “Her daddy hurt her so badly, she shot him so that it would end. Your dad is as much of a monster as hers. I am so proud of you for taking the higher road, taking your things, and leaving.”
“Thanks, I think,” she said while I dried her tears with my bandana.
“Hey, now, you need to just lie down on your tummy for a few minutes,” I encouraged her.
“All right,” she laid down on the sofa, “Now what?”
“I’m going to take care of things,” I calm myself by breathing deeply, “Mary-Ann, it's time!”

Maddy grinned when I started wrenching her elbows behind her back with some brown rope. I loved torquing her so tightly, and I noticed Joy tenderly caring for Nichole and Zoe brutalizing Casey and Jenny. Alas, Joy began tying Nichole. I focused on my friend here in my arms and made the most of the opportunity. I took off both her and my socks and gagged her with those and a tan bandana to hold it in for the meanwhile.

I cut no corners ever with M.A. I rolled her shirt and exposed her tits before making the harness to push her big floppy French titties out. Gosh, I love those squishy melons, and I made sure the harness was tighter than necessary to fully pin her arms. Under the tits, over the tits, through the armpits, and a V between the tits makes the best harness. I tied the crotch rope over her shorts, and the waist rope smashes her arms and torso together. She struggled, so I spanked her!

“Mmmmmmm!” Mary-Ann let out a high-pitched squeal.
“You're just sore because you have floppy French titties, and the rest of us are firm.”
“Wow, Hannah, you know how to deliver a line,” Nichole smiled; finally, she smiled!
“I tease her all the time!” I continued my domination.
“She's a competitor!” my friend marveled at her strength.
“Is she ever! She is the queen of arm wrestling too!” I proudly boasted of her achievements.
“You girls are muscular!” Zoe surely had noticed that sooner than now.

Now Nichole had a sock gag too, Jenny was hogtied, and Casey was ball tied. Jenny was unable to enjoy herself still, and she seemed scared. Such a beautiful soul… ruined in a sitting. Jenny is still an innocent of this type, and things that seem tragic but normal still adversely affect her.

Mary-Ann wasn't done yet! I trussed up her legs like a piece of meat. Four ropes along her legs and three on her thighs was great; strung big toes was better; tying her arms some more was such a thrill; stringing her fingers together was diabolical. I spanked her throughout the process and began earning a reputation for brilliantly dominating the dominatrix. Spanks are so much fun!

“If we bring them back to that unfinished room, we can tie Nichole to a chair and tie Mary-Ann up quite nicely,” Joy suggested quite proudly
“Sure! Sounds fine to me!” Zoe clearly loves the idea.
“Have you ever seen a girl suspended?” I asked hopefully,
“Sorority girl. We do everything at some point.”
“Mary-Ann does work for a studio I won't touch, and she had me go with her one day and watch her get tied like a sausage,” I said knowing I’d touch him soon.
“Oh, you're offering to demonstrate!”

Jenny was a tragic sight. All she wanted to do was cry, but she was too afraid to cry. She stared at her “sister from another mother” in helpless distress. Nichole was tired and could barely hop, and I suspected mental exhaustion was afflicting her more than physical exhaustion. The two’s connection was much like my own connection with Kendra or Michela, minus the sexuality. I used tit pinches to force Mary-Ann along since she wouldn't respond to Zoe’s spanks.

You know what makes life better? Eight wraps of black duct tape around a captive’s mouth. Oh, I am mean! I have borderline personality disorder, and I have a sick dominant streak. I suffer on account of it at times, especially during certain moods. Today was one such mood.

I took those black-framed glasses off Mary-Ann and put them somewhere safe and easy to find; I then hoisted her into the air upside down! With a shriek, Maddy left this earth for a better place, pardon the joke. When the ropes were secured, I noticed Nichole was no bare breasted. The fun followed.

We gave the girls 30 minutes to escape. All of them. And I begged Jenny and Casey to enjoy an unforgettable moment. This wasn't the tragedy of Nichole; this was her escape from a tragedy! I saw it as a new beginning for her, a chance to have a happier life in a home where she was loved for once.

“I think,” Zoe started, “since you two are friends, this should be Mary-Ann’s trial for potential Club membership. She's a good girl in the same style as Joy.”
“Too soon,” I jerked on M.A.’s crotch rope, “This isn't an escapable one, is it, M.A.? Are your squishy French titties in distress?”
“She doesn't have to escape,” Joy said it in such a dismissive tone; did she still hate Mary-Ann?

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 012: A Roof, Kids, and Meals
Friday, April 1, 2011

A proud Mary-Ann Voisin walked into Pod F with a black bandana headband. This was no April Fool. She had earned this for 7 complete months in which she had spent every single day as a III or a IV. A spring was in her step. Mary-Ann Voisin was a girl who… had no meaning. Dead on the inside while a perpetual, genuine, optimistic smile was on the outside. She had hope her life would one day be happy, but despite the hope her imagination saw no way it would be possible.

She had a roof, and a bed, and a cellmate, and 14 other podmates, and guards, and meals, and a school with caring teachers, and game time, and mass to attend. She had the entire world before her, yet she had nothing. She wanted to live, but she didn't know how to live. Is it any wonder she walked out of juvie and went to live in a dumpster?

Everyone loved Mary-Ann except Mary-Ann. She was her own worst enemy. She never cared enough for herself to pursue a real solution to her dilemma, like just asking to live with one of her other Voisin relations or to stay in the orphanage. It was only after she was an adult that she learned these things, and then it was too late. It was perfect because she might not have met me or Kendra otherwise.

While the trio continued an attempt to escape, Mary-Ann continued struggling and screaming. I responded to that by fondling her tits and spanking her before Zoe used her bandana to blindfold her. The room was full of her shrieks, but another sound accompanied it: the joyful squeaks that came from Jenny and, to my surprise, Casey, too, every so often.

Nichole escaped her father because of friendship; I escaped my past because of friendship; M.A., too, escaped a dark past because of friendship. Now Nichole is attempting to escape the symbols of her past through friendship. She was such a naturally good person, unlike me! It was fitting in my eyes that Nichole and Casey escaped in time but not Jenny; Jenny always sacrificed herself for others!

Joy was such a hypocrite, unlike Zoe. They took over the torture of Mary-Ann while I watched a beautiful scene unfolding before my eyes with Nichole, Casey, and Jenny all workimg together to escape their prisons in time. The Fredericks girls were fondling M.A.’s breasts and crotch in a curious manner; they pinched her nose; they spanked her; Joy sadistically laughed; Maddy never surrendered though. Joy hated Maddy for being a survivor of Pod F but had no problem groping the girl for personal thrills; part of me wanted to tie up Joy, spank her, and make love to her.

“We did it!” Nichole bounced mere seconds before the timer went off.
“Yes!” Casey hugged her and smiled brightly, “I hope we made today special for you.”
“You all did in your own ways. I feel naked being seen like this, but it's fun too.”
Zoe joined the hug, “I don't have to worry about you anymore.”
“It's over! He can't hurt me anymore!”
“Gangsta Queen!” I ran into the group hug, “Welcome to freedom.”
“AAUGGGGHHHHH!” Mary-Ann orgasmed at Joy’s hands.

Mary-Ann was such a brave girl despite her own fear. It took bravery, albeit a foolish type, to so confidently run away from home as often as she did. It took a heart of gold to walk into a place where she wasn't wanted and so lovingly mend Nichole's wounds, Her words pierced Joy’s soul but appeared to still make no difference, but she had made a strong impression on Nichole, who took out her phone to photo Mary-Ann.

We had brought the two captives to the other side of the basement at this point. Jenny and M.A. were helpless now and beautiful. Half of Jenny's beauty came from her radiant heart, the heart that so meekly begged me to come home to the Cool Girls’ Club. Through Casey, Jenny found me, and she relentlessly pursued me to come back. How glad I am that I did. Finally, it was my turn to cry.

“Mary-Ann, you truly understand and live life by the model of our Club,” Nichole smiled, “Zoe, Casey, are you with me?”
“Heck yeah!” Zoe was vocally supportive of the misfits!.
“Of course!” Casey of course had long supported us.
“Mary-Ann Voisin, the offer is yours to accept, membership in the Cool Girls’ Club.”
“Mmm!” Jenny squealed gleefully.
“She loves, she's a good friend, and she never would willfully harm a soul,” I fought tears when I heard the offer, “Nichole, you’ve shown me qualities about her that I took for granted and made them larger than life. Mary-Ann, you truly represent all it means to be a Cool Girl.”

Mary-Ann nodded and became a partaker of the principles of love and friendship. Nichole asked us to do ws much as we dare to welcome M.A. to the CGC: squeeze the “squishy French titties,” kiss her, hug her, and spank her. Zoe and I did it all with pleasure; Casey only kissed and hugged her; Joy came last. She took her time to lust after Mary-Ann’s figure before looking into her big brown eyes. The younger, shorter Fredericks girl gave Mary-Ann a genuine but sexually charged kiss on the cheek.

“Mary-Ann, I’m sorry I judged you without even giving you a chance. I was scared when I heard you were one of Hannah’s prison pals, but I can see now that anybody can change for the better with the right people in their lives. Forgive me?”
“Mmm!” Mary-Ann winked at her.
“Great! Now for Jenny's torture!” Nichole announced.
“No!” Jenny squealed and started hopping away before Zoe got in the way.
“Back you go!”
“Come here, sis! Girls, untie Mary-Ann and help me with this naughty Gangsta!”

That day, Mary-Ann and I left that house with different feelings. I had reconciled the last part of my past mistakes and made things right after five years. Mary-Ann was now a member of the CGC, the club that had always supported Pod F. It was with a smile that we returned to Michela and Ashley so that Ashley and Mary-Ann could go home, but another surprise awaited us!

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 013: Mary-Ann’s Life Part 4
Sunday, September 29, 2013

The young girl opened her eyes and picked herself up off the ground. Her blue short shorts were much too tight for her now; she’d grown 3 inches in juvie and fit in the red tank top just as well. She hadn’t changed her clothes in over a month. No shower or bath unless rainfall counted. She was covered in filth. She took her sign and walked out to the entrance to her local Wal-Mart.

It was a pathetic sight. Her glasses were caked with dirt even. Her black bandana was caked with mud. The small shorts crushed her crotch and made her butt obvious. The tank top was making her breasts look tighter than they were. She had lost count of the offers she’d had for a meal in exchange for sex, and she wouldn’t do it. She’d rather be hungry, although more than one passerby had attempted to take advantage of her. The tears she cried were genuine.

“Mary-Ann, is that you?!” she heard a familiar voice.
“Bernie?” she turned to see her cousin Bernadette, Uncle Junior’s daughter.
“OH MY GOD! Mary-Ann, get in this car right now!” her cousin was horrified.
“No, I’m just trouble,” the girl sat down and cried.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re moving in with me! I can’t leave you out here.”
“I’m a crook and a thief and a career criminal,” Mary-Ann insisted while letting her cousin lead.

Mary-Ann slept the day away like a baby. By the time she was home, she was smiling again and feeling the Voisin love she had missed all those years in foster care. A smile returned to her face, and clean clothes and a clean bed were more than she could have ever requested. She was where she had always wanted to be, finally. Uncle Junior and Grandpa Voisin were gone, but the Voisin family still loved Mary-Ann.

“Hi, Mrs. P,” I said to Mrs. Palmeri when I walked into the house, “Where are the girls?”
“Sofia is next door; Michela, Luisa, and that French girl are upstairs somewhere.”
“Thanks. Let's go, Maddy,” I motioned for my friend to follow.
“No hurries,” Mary-Ann laughed, “Which one of them is it though?”
“Oh, I don't know,” I laughed too, “Take a guess.”
“Ashley.”
“Ashley?! Nah. Michela!” I’m full of confidence.

And there, on the futon, lying between Luisa and Michela, was a bound and gagged Ashley. We looked at each other, then Ashley again, and then a second time at each other, and then we burst into hearty laughter. This girl was amazing at talking people into binding and gagging her. The Gangsta Kid was quite Gangsta in a very different flavor from the friends with whom I’d spent the greater part of my afternoon.

Ashley not only had talked them into that much but also had talked them into hogtying her in the tightest fashion. Her arms and legs were bound as well as I had bound them in the morning, but her gag now was one of the blue rubber balls with a red bandana pushed through the holes. That hogtie I mentioned ran from her ankles to her elbows. A white bandana blindfolded her.

“How does she do it?” I asked Mary-Ann while trying to stifle my laughter.
“Is there something wrong?” Michela asked me in return.
“Just that she already begged Hannah to tie her up this morning! Ashley? Are you naughty?” Mary-Ann tried to be motherly and stern with her hands on her hips.
“Nuh uh!” the captive French brunette replied to the free one, resting her head on Michela’s lap.
“She’s pretty as a picture though,” I snapped a quick shot for memories.
“I think she’s naughty!” Luisa eagerly nodded.
“I think that’s for her legal guardian to decide,” Michela grinned and looked at me, “Right, Ma?”

I felt a strange swelling of pride of some sort within me. It wasn’t the usual pride though. I felt the pride of having done something right by this girl that she would choose me, out of all of her many prison friends, to be the girl upon whom she bestowed the title of “mother.” Since then, I have cherished my relationship with Ashley, and that is why in 2024 my household includes me, my husband, my children, and my adopted daughter, even if she’s only a year my junior.

I sat on the ground by Ashley and gave her a most loving peck on the forehead. I accepted this new challenge. If Ashley wanted me as her mother, then I would be her mother, but she had to continue to love Mary-Ann and Luisa like sisters. There would be a big surprise coming for me concerning Ashley, but that has to wait for another chapter.

“I need a nap before I go to the Moreau’s,” I announced, “Let’s untie the manipulatrix.”
“Very clever!” Michela’s eyes sparkled at that comment, “I approve of this nickname.”
“Manipulatrix?” Luisa scratched her head, “Did you take Latin in school, Hannah?”
“Nope! Just well read. You know that,” Michela’s little sister brought me so much joy, too.
“Yeah, Ash, you need to get home before Kendra picks out dinner! Blech!” Maddy laughed.
“Oh-hay!” a bright smile was visible despite the gag.

Soon, I was cuddling Michela while trying to sleep on the bed, not knowing what the night would bring me.

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What surprise awaits the new girl to whom Hannah will “show the ropes”?

(A) A hogtie
(B) A blindfold
(C) A pantyhose hood

In Chapter 4: Michela is a hottie in distress, and a star is born!