The same title, and (mostly) the same characters. Plus some of the same ideas. I'm restarting the story, rather then attempting to continue the original, which I did actually try to do.
Each chapter will end with options, a selection of choices for you all to make (via a reply post stating your letter preference) to decide how we proceed. I'll leave voting open for one to several days each time. Same rules as I usually observe basically.
Enjoy, I hope
Last edited by RopeBunny3 years ago, edited 36 times in total.
It's Dad's fault I'm here, the only girl on my Foresty course at Hillside college, so named because yes, it is partly on a hillside, but mostly due to the on campus farm, which was called Hillside before a bunch of rich investors bought the land and turned a farm into an outdoors college. Here you can learn Farming, Forestry, fish based stuff, there's even a mechanics course to learn how to fix all the oversized mostly loud machines we all need to do our various jobs. You can always spot the Mechanics students, they're the ones driving the colleges tractors around way too fast, acting like a bunch of hooligans.
But I'm here to study Forestry. Because, growing up with just Dad, he wound up taking me to work with him whenever I couldn't go to school. So I grew up sitting beside him in tractor cabs whilst he dragged huge cut trunks down forest tracks, or sitting on the bonnet of his battered old land rover, hard hat on, ear and face gaurds in place, watching from a safe distance as he dug in a new fence or used a chainsaw to fell the trees we'd be back to drag out tomorrow.
With a childhood like that what else was I going to study.
Luckily I got a nice fat student loan to cover my expenses, so I can live in shared dorms on site. College is miles away, three changes if I go by train, so I really needed to stay local. Dad drove me up here on the Sunday, with my induction and orientation beginning the next day. He'd already seen the campus before of course, coming with me for my interview back in spring, so, rather then stay in a local hotel he helped me unload, then hopped back in his 4x4. I waved him off, with a promise between us that we'd meet up, somewhere halfway if needs be, at least once a month. I also promised to spend any college break longer then a week back with him too.
There are ten sizable dorm houses, each one a three story L shape. Seven for the guys, three for us girls, because, equal opportunities and all that aside, the outdoor careers are still very much a male thing. For now. As big as they are though the combined dorms, fairly well spaced apart, take up less then a fifth of the campuses total area, because Hillside is huge. The farm, a small woodland for us to chop down and regrow, ample lakes and whatever else the fish students need. Plus other stuff for other courses, and everything else a college requires to function day to day. Each dorm is named after a different animal. I'm in Shark, up on the top floor, way down the far tip of the L.
My room is empty when I unlock and push open the door, my roommate not yet here. Stood in the doorway the room is a large square opening out before me, on either side is a single bed, beside which sits a bedside drawer unit. At the foot end of the bed is a wardrobe, sideways on to the bed so they share the same wall. Beside one of these is a desk, beside the other, a door to the ensuite, which has a shower but no bath. Looking left, then right, I shrug. "Desk's all yours." I tell the empty left hand bed, dragging my suitcase right.
I'm halfway through setting up when she appears. I hear a bang, and stand up, turning as I do, to find a girl walking backwards into the room, dragging her own suitcase behind her. Clearing the door she stops, allowing it to swing closed and click itself locked, then, shrugging off a backpack she'd been one strapping, she turns to face me.
"Hi." I smile. "Hey there roomie." Smiling back, each of us assessing the other. She's as skinny as me, and just as well muscled, with visible biceps and a flat stomach. Her hair is blonde, shaved at the sides, with the longer straight part tumbling from the top over her left eye and ear, not quite reaching her shoulder. My own curly hair is far longer, tickling at my shoulder blades, and dyed bright blue with white tips. She's wearing a sleeveless blue dress, almost purple, with some kind of pale white swirling design all over it. The neckline is high, so no cleavage, but I can see the humps her B cups make agaisnt the tight fabric. On her feet are black lace up steel toe caps, worker boots. My own outfit is less girly, my Dad's fault again. White jeans hug my legs, tucked into my own laced up black steel boots, up top a grey vest doesn't quite hide my white bra, and the vests low neckline shows plenty of my D cups. I can't see any tattoos on her, which doesn't say much, my own are at least partly hidden. My biggest is a Kraken, the main bulk on my upper left leg, it's tentacles reaching all over me. One curls around my left breast. One dissappears inside my pussy. One reaches up to circle my neck, strangling me. One spirals down my left arm, the very tip wrapping my ring finger. On my butt is a star, the centre of which is over my butthole. I also have a ring of fire surrounding my right wrist, the longest of the flames almost touches my elbow. All my inkwork is black. We both have hoops in our ears, gold on her, silver on me. I also have snakebites on my lower lip, and a ring in each nipple, all silver.
"Carmen."
"Sammy." She shrugs. "Samantha."
"Sammy then?" She nods, I smile. "Right." Pointing. "I gave you the desk."
"Okay." She smirks slightly, though at what I couldn't say. "You one of the fluffy bunnies?"
"Fuck no." I laugh, having never heard the nickname, but getting it anyway. She laughs too. Fluffy bunnies must be the animal care students, the course you do before you get to be a vet. "No." Shaking my head, pointing to the bed, to my own bright orange hard hat. "I'm Forestry."
"Mechanics."
"Oh." I nod, thinking as I do that, like me, Sammy is likely the only girl on her course.
With the introductions done Sammy pulls out a laptop, and, after waking it up, I hear a crowd roar, followed by the steady thump of the bass as whatever DJ it is sets up their first track in the live set she's got stored on her hard drive. Nodding my agreement of her choice, we both set about unpacking.
"You into that then huh?" Sammy asks, sat on her bed, folding and putting away various tee's. She nods down at my open bottom drawer, which I'm currently filling with all manner of rope and gags, cuffs and various other fun things. A whole drawers worth, and probably the largest secret I've ever kept from Dad. But I don't see the point in hiding it now. Why should I. "I am." I nod, without turning around, feeling a small tingle as I wonder whether Sammy will make anything of it, my mind even, briefly, goes so far as to imagine her tying me up here and now, making me spend my first night in this new place tied and gagged, maybe even hooded. But she says no more, and we both carry on unpacking.
The Chart, which is what's written at the top of the paper, appears halfway through the week. Tacked to the corkboard above the desk, it's a piece of blank A4, divided down the middle, Sammy written on one side, at the top, Carmen on the other. When I first see it I'm alone, and Sammy already has five checks, four lines side by side going down, one across them all to make a bundle. I only have one.
"It's just for fun." Sammy shrugs the next day when I remember to ask. "Right." I nod, being polite whilst actually not understanding. And, the next day, she has two more marks.
"So how do you earn marks?" I ask a week later, eating lunch with her, because it's cheaper to share a pizza then to get one each. "By doing something good." She shrugs, taking another slice. "When I win, I get a check."
Over the following two weeks, feeling slightly silly, but strangely unable to help myself, I wind up leaving both a graded test paper, eighty-five percent thank you, and, bizarrely but as I said I feel compelled to join in, a bank statement proving I made it a month without going overdrawn, laying casually on Sammy's desk. Apparently only one of those two things counts, but at least I now have two checks, which look lonely next to Sammy's army of thirteen. I stare at the chart, wondering about that first check, but always forgetting to ask.
A week later Sammy comes home late one Tuesday, from a celebratory post first assessment drink with the other, all male, Mechanics students, and finds me tied up.
What can I say? I was horny.
The only clothing I'm wearing is a lace and silk pink cami top. A strap over each shoulder, the triangle cups of the top are see through lace, like a fine mesh, contoured around and hugging my breasts separately, with my dark ring pierced nipples poking at the fabric. Below the breasts is a band of elastic, with the silk below that, puffing out slightly, only covering half my stomach. My hair is tied into a loose plait, fastened with a black silk scarf whose ends trail down my back. A large cherry red ballgag is strapped tightly into my mouth, an oversized model that makes me look cute when I yank and buckle it tight, as I did today. Cute if you like a stretched wide mouth with drool leaking from the corner, lips pulled back from teeth by the digging in straps, teeth which are forced to bite down onto the rubber ball since my mouth will go no wider. I'd be a sure hit with any lover of damsel in distress porn that's for sure. There's a dildo in my pussy, like a long slim silver bullet, and a reasonable sized black rubber plug in my butt, both held in with a crotch rope that cinches my already skinny waist that little bit skinnier. Both toys can and are vibrating, but on a low setting, meaning I will cum, eventually. But I'll be very frustrated first. To tie myself up I've used metal cuffs. After a previous mistake last year I now tie the keyring to a weight, and to my headboard, so I shouldn't ever again have to fall off the bed and scrabble around on the floor for my freedom. The setup isn't ideal, of course, because I can escape whenever I choose, though finding the right key and unlocking myself by touch alone will take time. But it's all I've got. One set of cuffs secures my wrists behind me, a second pins my ankles together, and a third has one cuff around the short chain on my wrist cuffs, and the other on the ankle cuffs chain. Not the best hogtie, but, again, it's all I've got.
I've been pretend helpless for about an hour when Sammy walks in. Well, what she actually does is half stumble into the door, giggle, right herself, and, turning on the light, step in backwards. The door closes, self locking as always. "Shhh." She tells the door, though it wasn't loud. "You'll wake...." She waves her arm behind her, at me. "Um." Tapping the side of her head, leaning against the wall with one hand, still oblivious to my state. "Carmen." Sammy snaps her fingers, then. "Shhh." She tells them, giggling again. Finally she turns around. And, as her drunk gaze falls on me I feel a sudden tingling in my pussy, a tingle that spreads out to cover my whole hogtied body, that has nothing to do with the constant low buzz of the toy pressed inside me. Sammy stares at me, laid here facing her, with my crotch roped pussy and lingerie enhanced breasts on display, my ball gagged face regarding her back. I resist a strong urge to spread my legs for her, to wriggle and prove my helpless state, but instead I stay still, full of anticipation at what might happen next.
"Oh." Sammy nods at me. "Carmen. No wonder you couldn't let me in when I knocked." She laughs, I shake my head. She didn't knock. "Well." Grinning, picking up a pen. "Someone," pointing, prodding herself in the chest, between her small breasts, "came top of the whole fucking class today. So that's," she draws a slightly curved check mark on her side, "one more for team me." She drops the uncapped pen onto the floor and turns back around. "Well. Aren't you going to say well done?" Having stumbled over to her bed Sammy drops down onto it, and proceeds to yank off her boots, forgetting to unlace them. I moan, and grunt, struggling so my body bounces on the bed. Having not actually done this particular spot of self bondage to get Sammy's attention, I actually thought she'd wind up back in some boys room, as she seems to do about once a week, it's suddenly maddening to be in such a, from my point of view, inviting state, and yet to be ignored. I am, if only someone were to remove my keys, completely helpless, Sammy's for the taking, but the drunk fool doesn't seem to care.
"Shhh." She tells me now, having finally got both boots off. "You'll wake up...." Waving at my bed. "Carmen." Sammy nods, then pulls her blue tee and white bra off at once, doing the same to her faded blue jeans and red thong next, before climbing under the covers naked, and rolling over to put her back to me. "G'night roomie." She slurs. Less then a minute later she's snoring loudly, having left our light on.
It takes me one hour, and one orgasm, to escape, all whilst Sammy sleeps on. Free, I quietly pack away my toys, and pop to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. On the way back to my bed I turn out the light, stopping to recap Sammy's pen first, replacing it onto her desk.
In the morning, with no lessons until ten, I allow myself a lay in. When I do rise at half eight I find an empty room, and a third check mark on my side of The Chart. For escaping? I wonder, tapping at it.
What happens now?
A- Sammy offers to tie Carmen.
B- Sammy asks Carmen to tie her.
C- Carmen returns one day to find Sammy and another girl cuffed back to back on the bed, with her cuffs.
D- Carmen returns one day to find a girl tied up to Sammy's bed.
Given it sixteen hours since the last post, in hopes that the stalemate would be broken by someone else, but, here I am with time to write so I'm calling it as three votes each.
In this instance, though I have previously combined the two winners, this time I'm going to go with D.
Sorry you three C voters, but, from my point of view D will give the most options moving forwards at this early stage.
I decide, on the subject of Sammy finding me cuffed on my bed, to let her take the lead.
I mean, I really want to talk about it, and I have the maddest of urges to hogcuff myself again, but naked, and during the day when I know she'll both be almost done with lessons, and sober. I want to present myself to her again, to entice her with my helplessness. Mostly because I'm, still, horny. I just want to be trussed up and used. Or, equally as fun, I want to bind some other willing, or not so willing, girl, and toy with them until they're nothing but a sweaty frustrated worn out hogtied mess on my bed. I. Am. A really really hopeless rope addict.
What stops me from confronting her, and by confront I'm referring to my cunning plan where I lay naked and cuffed on her bed surrounded by vibrators and nipple clamps, is that I can't be sure whether she's actually into ropes. She was very drunk when she found me, so maybe that stopped her wanting to play. Maybe, too wasted to realise I was in such a easy to take advantage of state, she woke up with no memory of it, and so it hasn't occurred to her to come to me. If that were the case though then why do I have that third check mark?
So I bite my tongue whenever she and I are together, feeling my frustration grow as Sammy repeatedly fails to mention anything about what a rope slut I am. And then it's the weekend, thank fuck.
Sammy goes home every Friday, she lives way closer then me, and doesn't return until Monday morning. There's an hourly bus that stops on campus, because we're located way out in the sticks, far to far away from the nearest town or village to walk, and Sammy uses this to get her to the town, because that's where the train station is.
I spend Saturday plowing through my coursework, sitting on my bed surrounded by books and my open laptop. I only leave four times: once for dinner, once for snacks, once to visit the onsite woodland so I can check up on some leaf shapes for my identification paper, and the final time is just for a blow. Some fresh air because all the reading and focusing is giving me a headache. All the work pays off though, because on Sunday I have nothing to do, so I play.
In place of a thong and bra I tie myself into a tight crotch rope, and the best chest harness I can manage on myself, which takes forever, and involves lots of looking over my shoulder into the mirror, but I manage. Over the top I wear a baggy black hoodie of the type with no zip, rolling the sleeves up since it is a nice day out, and dark red drawstring trousers that aren't quite as tight as jeans, so hopefully won't show up the rope running down my front, cinched tight as it cuts into my pussy, then runs up my butt crack to my waist at the back. With dirty white trainers on my feet I catch the bus into town, which is a fourty minute winding through all the villages journey each way. In town I browse the shops, purposefully lingering, smirking as though at a private joke each time the rope digs into my pussy, sometimes causing small moans to escape between my lips. I get a couple of funny looks, which I return with a smile whilst secretly fantasising that the group of college age boys sat outside McDonald's, shouting loudly at each other as they throw more chips then they eat, are going to come and kidnap me, prehaps dragging me off behind the store where they'll use they're shoelaces, plus mine, to truss me to the vertical slat fencing I know is back there. Prehaps they'll pull down my trousers I muse, trying not to stare at them as I pass, abandoning me exposed and helpless.
Back home, having already eaten my main meal of the day, I strip naked in my room, removing my ropes too. Then I spend the rest of the day naked, with my wrists cuffed behind me, pretending Sammy left me in this state on Friday, which is why I'm not gagged, a girl still needs to eat and drink obviously.
I consider, spending almost an hour debating sometimes out loud with myself, adding some checkmarks to my side of the board. I mean, maybe the reason I've only got three is because it's my job to tally up my own victories. Which just leaves the question have I had a victory? Or maybe I can just add one anyway, or five, it isn't like Sammy explains all of her marks to me. I nod, but only add one, in pencil, which is very hard whilst my hands are cuffed behind me since I have to hold the pencil in my mouth, then kind of nod carefully and slowly. "Maybe I got the checkmark for writing such a neat checkmark." I decide, laughing as I spit the pencil back onto Sammy's desk.
I unlock myself before bed, and drift off with a smile on my face, feeling much more content now to adopt a 'wait and see' approach with Sammy.
Things change on Wednesday.
Every student, regardless of what course they're on, gets a midday finish on Wednesdays. The afternoons are for sport. Those not part of a team, Sammy to name one, get the afternoon off. The rest if us have practice, occasionally a match. I'm part of the netball team, a game I've loved playing since I was ten when one of the teachers at school tried to create a team of willing girls, hoping to enter us into the national kids league. It never really took off, but I've stayed a fan ever since. I play in defence, because I've got terrible aim, but I'm awesome at interceptions.
With class finished I head back to my room, to change into my kit. Just practice today, so no actual uniform needed, but the tight black jeans and figure hugging pale yellow tee with Deep Purple, written in purple across the swell of my breasts, I'm wearing are no good for a couple of hours hard exercise, neither obviously are my black steel toed boots.
Wondering what Sammy will be up to with her free afternoon, I know from various chats and sightings around campus that she has friends, both male and female, other then me, I open the door to our shared room. Walking in without really looking, tossing my bag onto my bed, stretching, I look towards the open bathroom door, reminding myself a shower will be better after practice. It's then I hear the moan, which stops my train of thought like a tree on the line. "Oh. Wow." I exclaim, a smile growing on my face as I look over at Sammy's bed.
I don't recognise the girl, which probably means she's a fluffy bunny. I've got friends on the Fisheries course, and, though it might be rude of me to say so, even to myself, I've not seen any fat Farming students yet. She's Asian, but from which part I couldn't say. Her skin has that nice slightly dark colour, and her hair, long and straight as an arrow, is black. She's young, near twenty like me if not already so. And, yes, she's a large girl. Not morbidly so, but, prehaps too large to simply be classed as curvy. She's been tied to Sammy's bed with rope that looks suspiciously like mine, especially considering my bottom drawer is wide open, some of the contents half spilled on the floor. Her plump legs, clad in skintight dark blue jeans, are pinned together by roped ankles, which have been secured to the centre of five vertical posts that make up the footboard of both mine and Sammy's beds. Of her shoes and socks there's no sign. Her equally rounded arms are stretched out above her, tied at the wrists, then tied to the same central post at the headboard end. Whoever tied her, surely Sammy though, has made sure to pull out the slack on both rope and limbs before tying the girl in place, ensuring she's laying very flat, with not much wriggle room. A ballgag, also mine I'd bet though not one of the big guns I own, has been buckled tightly in place, the red of the ball she's biting down on almost matches the striking bright shade of her lipstick. The gags strap is over the top of her hair, pinning it to her face. Her top is tiny, probably riding up due to her being stretched out, but I doubt it would cover much of her impressive belly anyway. It's black, a tee like mine, meaning she doesn't have any cleavage on show either. Her breasts are massive, straining at the tee, rising and falling with each breathe she takes.
Seeing that she has my attention she moans again, giving her body a shake, most likely asking for my help.
The thing is, do I want to help her?
What now?
A- Carmen gets changed, and goes to practice like a good girl. Because, you know, sports is far more important then a tied up girl
B- Carmen ungags the girl, who asks to be untied. Carmen agrees to switch places with her, getting tied to the bed instead.
C- Carmen can't resist a play. She has the girl all exposed and is having fun when Sammy reappears.
D- Carmen is getting changed, because she doesn't want to interfere with Sammy's fun, when there's a knock at the door. It's the girls friend, who has a tied up Sammy with her. The friend wants to trade.
D. Thanks to all for voting. Thanks too to those of you who've expressed enjoyment in the story so far, or who have said they're happy to see another RopeBunny voting adventure
[mention]Risperdaltied[/mention] I use my phone to write, using the email app and saving stories as an unsent draft until they're ready, at which point I copy and paste them onto the site. This means that, wherever I am, anytime I have a spare moment I can write some more
Stood looking at the girl, I know one thing. I really really don't want to help her.
Does that make me mean? Probably. Will I, eventually, somehow, get in trouble for not helping? Probably. Does she, though, look so amazing tied to Sammy's bed, her body stretched tight, her helplessness obvious, that I'm already feeling wet? Fuck yes.
She moans again, which makes me smile. "No." I tell her, shaking my head, stepping closer. She shakes her bound wrists at me, tries to anyway, which does nothing except make her extra large breasts, along with her flabby belly, wobble. "Look." I sit down, but on my bed, I don't trust myself to actually sit or come within touching distance of her. "Those clothes wouldn't stay on for long." I finish the thought out loud, shaking my head, grinning as I try to imagine how her breasts and pussy look. How dark are her nipples? Does she have any tan lines? Is she shaved, or does an explosion of short curly black hair surround her pussy, which I bet tastes great. She struggles some more. "Are you trying to show me how helpless you are." Shaking my head. "Because, you know, if you want me to come over there and play, you've only got to ask." Which, because she's pretty securely gagged, and so can neither ask to be my little fuck toy, nor beg me to free her, makes me laugh. Grunting, apparently trying to yank the wooden headboard apart, given how hard she's tugging on her wrists, the tied girl on Sammy's bed glares at me. "True." I nod, as though she'd replied to me properly. "But, you see. Hmm." I hold up a hand. "Hold on. Stop." And she does, laying still, looking sideways at me. "Huh." Shaking my head, staring at my hand. "Magic." I grin, pretending to cast a spell on her, frowning when all her clothes magically don't dissappear. "Damn. Right. Anyway, tied girl, allow me to explain things to you."
"You see," I gesture the length of the bed she's tied to, "that's Sammy's bed. Not mine. Had you been tied up here," patting my mattress, "then you'd be all mine. And we could have some fun." I reach up, gently groping my left breast, giving my D cup a squeeze. "Don't you want to have some fun tied girl?" She only stares at me, doesn't struggle, doesn't moan, but, most importantly, from my point of view, she doesn't shake her head. "Huh." Cocking my head to the side, dropping my hand. "Progress of sorts. Anyway. Because you're on Sammy's bed, it's up to her to deal with you." I shrug, as though everything I've just said were actually real rules that, damn them, I just can't break. "And besides." Opening drawers, pulling out clothes. "I've got netball practice. And, you know." I make a fist. "Go Sparrows and all that teamwork crap. Right?" She's still looking at me. I grin, standing. "Tell you what." Pulling out my phone, checking the time. "If you're still here when I get back, in about two hours, then I'll untie you. Okay?" After a long pause she nods, once. "Good." I nod back. "And I promise I'll only have one tiny little peek at your pussy first, plus maybe just a small touch. Say, a half hours worth. Oh," I reach up, rubbing at my left nipple through my tee, "and one. No. Five." Nodding. "Five licks on each nipple too." Which makes her shake her head violently in protest, and grunt, trying to yank the bed apart again with her struggles. "Hey." Holding up both hands, trying not to giggle. "You already agreed. No take backs."
I don't close the bathroom door, she can't see in anyway given the angles. But I think getting changed in front of her will be pushing things just a bit too far right now. Aside from anything if I'm naked in the same room as her, looking all helpless and sexy as she does, I'll start getting all sorts of urges, and, even though I mostly made it all up, there is some sense in the fact that she's tied to Sammy's bed. Did Sammy tie her? I'm not sure how anyone else could've gotten access. Which leads to the question of why? I'd rather know what's going on before I do anything to or with the girl. I'd hate to mess up some grand scheme of Sammy's. Though, as I pull off my jeans, having already kicked off my boots, I can't help but wonder. If Sammy really wanted to tie up someone, why didn't she just ask?
My skirt is on, it's quite short, finishing above the knee, and pleated with an elastic waistband. We've no game today, so I could wear gym shorts, but the skirt feels different somehow when I play. It's hard to explain, but it means I prefer to only wear one of my two uniform skirts each Wednesday. Whatever it is, most of the other girls clearly agree, as out of almost twenty girls only four wear shorts to practice. The skirt is a dark green, all the college's sports teams play in a kit mostly made up of the same dark pine tree green, with a white waistband, and another white strip at the bottom. I've stripped off my tee and bra, but have yet to put on the sports bra and baggy vest top, both black, that I wear most weeks. Instead I've been staring in the mirror, only half paying attention to putting my hair into a loose plait, whilst mostly staring at my kraken tentacles, something which often causes me to zone out as I become transfixed by how they loop and twist around my body. I've just finished tying a black and white camo pattern scarf around my plait, holding it together, when I hear the door open. Frowning, I quickly pull my pale yellow tee back on, because it was closest, ignoring either of the bras, and walk back into the bedroom to see what Sammy has to say about the girl.
Except, I giggle, it appears Sammy won't be saying anything to me, or anyone, for awhile.
There's another girl with Sammy, stood behind and off to one side, like a guard. Both of them inside the room only just far enough to allow the door to close, which it has. Sammy is wearing a dress, she seems to favour these whenever she has lectures and not in the workshop covered in oil and diesel practicals. This particular one hugs her flat stomach and small breasts, with a plunging v neckline that shows off enough cleavage to tell me she's wearing a push up bra underneath. The dress is made up of white and black vertical stripes, making her look like a referee, and is about as short as my skirt. On her feet, despite a morning in the classroom, are her usual black steel toed boots. A grey woolen scarf is tied around her head, with a large knot in the part that's been forced into her mouth, the scarves ends trail down Sammy's mostly naked back, since the back of the dress plunges far lower then the front, almost down to her pert and toned butt. Her wrists have been tied behind her, crossed, using a length of dirty white rope.
The other girl, aside from not being Asian- her skin is the same pale white as my own, though Sammy's is very tanned -could be the tied girl on the beds sister. She too is fat, with large legs and arms, but she too looks pretty all the same. She's wearing glasses with round black frames, and her hair is long and curly, like mine, dyed purple. Her right arm is covered in tattoos, a huge black tribal design, like a many forked lighting bolt running from shoulder to the back of her hand. She too is wearing black steel toed boots, loosely laced so they're more like slip ons. Her dress is white, with a low cut tee style neckline that shows about ten times the cleavage Sammy is, since this other girls breasts are just as large as the rest of her. The dress has short arm hugging sleeves, and finishes just above the knee. An underbust cinch corest, black, goes some way towards hiding what I'd guess is a large belly, and to help lift those breasts, thrusting them even more out into the world.
"I'm here for Misha." She tells me, pointing at the bed. "Misha is it?" I nod, looking at Sammy as I do, who looks up, meets my gaze, then looks back down at the floor again. "I was wondering what her name was." I tell the new girl. "I mean, I've tried asking, but," shrugging, trying not to smile, "she just doesn't seem to want to tell me anything."
"Are you taking the piss?"
"Maybe." I laugh, holding two fingers about an inch apart. "Just a little."
"Fucks sake." Shaking her head, pointing at me. "And I suppose you were in on all this too?"
"Who." Pointing at myself, looking down, realising as I do that my yellow tee is indeed a tight fit, and is currently giving everyone a great view of my ring pierced nipples. I grin, looking back up. "Yes. Of course." Gesturing back at Misha. "In it from day one I was. Responsible for all the planning, and," I drop my voice to a whisper, "it was always my job to remember the donuts at the Friday reviews."
"Are you nuts?" She almost shouts. I hold up a hand, seesawing it back and forth. "Kinda."
"Fuck." Shaking her head, muttering. "I should've just kidnapped you instead."
"Okay." I shrug. "But, can you do it at three, only," pointing at my skirt, "I've got practice."
"What?"
"You know." I make a fist again. "Go Sparrows."
"I meant I wish it were you gagged," she takes a breath, putting a hand to her head, "to shut you up. I wasn't actually going to kidnap you."
"Oh." I nod. "Right. Of course. Silly me huh. If you change your mind though...."
"Oh for." She interrupts me. "Can we just do this trade. Now."
"Trade?"
"Yes." She prods Sammy in the arm. "Her for Misha."
"Oh. Um." I shrug, still not really understanding what's going on, how this all came about, but. "Sure." Nodding. "I'll be happy to take my roomie off your hands, in exchange for...." waving a hand behind me. "Misha." The girl prompts me. I grin. "Right. If you're sure you wouldn't rather take me back with you, and leave Misha here?" The girl glares at me, but her mouth quirks in the barest hint of a smile. "No?" I ask. She smiles slightly wider, but shakes her head. "Okay. Well." Shrugging. "Your loss." I put my wrists together behind me. "I make a great hostage by the way, just saying." Sammy shakes her head, most likely despairing of me. I shrug again. "Right then. Anyway. Business I guess." Gesturing at first Sammy, then Misha. "How're we doing this?"
What happens next?
A- The exchange happens. Carmen leaves Sammy tied and gagged though, and heads to practice.
B- Carmen is tricked into untying Misha first, at which point she's jumped on, and hogtied on her bed by both larger girls, who then leave.
(only two, but each time I write a third it just doesn't sound as fun, plus both of these have the potential to create other fun paths)
I like those kind of stories 
