The Tangled Maiden: Complete (Mostly F/F, M/F)

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The Tangled Maiden: Complete (Mostly F/F, M/F)

Post by Beaumains »

“I’m sorry, I never follow strangers home.”

The cheerful lady with her crimson winter jacket and short black hair curling up above her neck bent down. “I thought beggars can’t be choosers.”

From my piece of cardboard, I stared in her round black sunglasses and ignored her condescending comment. “Miss, I can’t thank you enough for your offer, but the risks don’t outweigh the benefits.”

The lady’s cherry lips curled up. “I’m 99 percent certain I won’t harm you.”

I pressed my back further into the cold brick wall. “With all respect, if I would take such a risk every day, I would be harmed three or four times annually.” My words erased her smirk and earned me an apology.

“The dinner I invited you to is at my own inn two blocks away, so you won’t ever be alone,” the lady offered. “You’ll be safe.” Further arguments persuaded my cautious self. I folded my piece of cardboard into my backpack and rose to my feet. As is usual, I had to narrate my past five years on the streets and how my last foster parents abandoned me for a world cruise when I was 16.

“Miriam,” she introduced herself when we waited for a traffic light. “My inn is unusual and could be intimidating. Ignore the other guests and eat. Nobody will bother you.”

My stomach growled, urging me to choose burgers and fries over canned beans and rice and ignore the red flags. Tonight was another 99 percent guess.

Miriam had not lied. The bouncer of the The Tangled Maiden welcomed Miriam as ‘Madam’ when we passed the opaque glass door. I instantly matched eyes with a man who fed his blindfolded wife a cheese platter. He wore a black turtleneck, and she was dressed in a long grey woolen jumper. Her hands were tied behind her back and pulled down to a tie-down ring.

I gazed at an empty table in the half-filled restaurant, redeeming my inappropriate stare. The yellow-brown floorboards and barriers created a light atmosphere such that many tables enjoyed the much-needed privacy. Thick steel chains hanging from the high ceiling carried empty dog cages and shattered the lights like disco balls. Most couples had a disparity in the number of clothes, exposing bellies, breasts, and feet. Some were cuffed, tied, or pinned to rings on the floor and pillars. Yet, most surprisingly, none of it bothered anyone as slow coffeehouse music played in the background. Only a few whose mouths were filled by ball-like objects did not chat amicably.

“Marlon, this is Bree,” Miriam declared me to the barkeeper, a heavyset bald man with a forked black bread. ”All week, she panhandled on our sidewalk, and I could not contain myself anymore. I would say a plate and dessert on the house. Make her feel at home.” She explained my presence as I felt more and more out of place in my brown army boots, olive cargo pants, and heavy azure blue coat.

Marlon greeted me by offering me a drink, and I picked tap water. “I got to see your ID anyway as this is an adult club,” he asked, and I retrieved the proof I was 21 from the pouch around my neck. Carrying valuables in my pockets or backpack was a cry for them to be stolen. I sipped from the cold water as Marlon examined my face. “Um, sorry, but –”

“I have albinism, and the scar is from a car crash involving a deer,” I cut Marlon off. “It’s okay, no need to apologize. I often get that question.” My chest-long white hair, light grey eyes, and colorless skin intrigued many. Only a deep scar running from my chin, next to my nose, through my left eye socket to my almost invisible eyebrow ruined my naturally stainless face.

“Thanks, that resolves my question. If you have any questions or doubts, ask ahead. You look uneased.”

From the other side of the bar, a bear-like man screamed Marlon’s name and requested three ropes for his ‘ill-behaved little pet’. A short guy with fuzzy red hair behind him focused his eyes downwards. A collar with a leash was strapped around his neck. Marlon scribbled something in a notebook and handed the man three white ropes.

“Any questions?” Marlon inquired when he returned to me.

I had squandered my chance to run away. “What is the place?”

Marlon smirked, refilling my water. “The Tangled Maiden is a bondage inn. People who like to tie or be tied up come here for dinner, events, or a memorable night. Here, they can be themselves publicly.” He had said this explanation a hundred times already. “Don’t do anything you don’t want. Everything and everyone here is voluntary.”

I thanked Marlon and turned silent. He had real customers to serve. Three waitresses wearing black heels, a short black dress with deep cleavage, and a tiny white apron ran back and forth with drinks. I glanced at the customers, who began filling the remaining tables. The head of an Asian lady popped out of the center of one round table. Twelve were seated around another long table. They drunk wine and gossiped as twelve others knelt on rubber pats with exposed chests, straight backs, and their hands behind their back. None moved or talked while they balanced solid metal cubes on their heads.

“Bree, darling, how are you?” someone said, laying their hand on my shoulder. I spun around. A black, shiny skin encased all of Miriam’s body save for her hands and face, and knee-high black boots with killer heels completed her outfit. She wore no underwear underneath as there were no bends in the plastic-like fabric while her nipples were evident. “You’re a jumper, aren’t you? Dinner is at least another half an hour away. Also, can I offer you a shower? Or can I wash your clothes?”

I closed my mouth that had fallen open. “I prefer not to be on the streets after dusk. That’s safer, so I leave after dinner. I hope you understand.”

“No problem, but at least take a shower. If necessary, I got a modest room for you.”

My mind could not wire the situation together like a sensory overload. I could not think clearly and nodded at Miriam’s enchanting smile and followed her into a hallway.
Last edited by Beaumains 1 year ago, edited 40 times in total.
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Post by NotSeen »

The setting is certainly interesting... and I'm interested to see exactly why Miriam was so eager to get Bree to come in...
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Post by JulieG »

I'm sure The Tangled Maiden could be home to a hundred, nay a thousand tales of intrigue.
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Post by GreyLord »

This is a fascinating beginning. I am looking forward to seeing where you go with this.
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Post by Tieup1 »

A great start to this story, plenty of detail, and yet, not too much given away. I have a feeling this is going to be really interesting. :)
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Post by Caesar73 »

Fascinating Scenario! I liked the entry of the first chapter, when Miriam persuades the first cautious and sceptic Bree to take her up on her offer. The Name of the Inn sounds promising!
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Post by Beaumains »

Thanks for all the comments, guys! As I want to avoid any spoilerssay anything more than I did, I have a hard time to write individual replies. Here is the second part. Hopefully, it will clear soemthing up already...

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“This’s our staff bedroom,” Miriam briefed me on the third floor. A mattress and two chests filled the 4-foot wide room with a ceiling at a steep angle. “Whoever can’t make it home sleeps here. What do you reckon?”

I stumbled as the woman whose nipples pushed through the black plastic handed me a key to the room. “Um, with all due respect, I see no reason to waste your hospitality and generosity.”

“Where would you sleep tonight otherwise?”

“I got a place,” I stuttered. Miriam’s eyebrows shot an inch up. “I have a hideout where I sleep and keep the rest of my stuff.” Her eyebrows moved a quarter-inch down. “Since July, I’ve stayed in an air vent in a mostly abandoned warehouse near Mason’s Street.”

Miriam crawled over the mattress with thick, warm blankets and opened the chest under the window. “Thus, why don’t you want a good night’s rest, clean clothes, a warm meal, and a fun evening? Or do you prefer a cold ventilation shaft in November?” She threw out shirts, skirts, trousers, and blouses on the mattress.

“A meal and shower would be great,” I wobbled. “But, to avoid risk, I don’t go out or drink. I hope you understand that.”

Miriam turned around, holding a pair of black tights. “No, I don’t understand that; you’re safe here. So, what do you want to wear while we wash your clothes? You seem to prefer darker colors.”


Thirty minutes later, I left the staff bathroom wearing a cornflower blue turtleneck sweater with a grey woolen plaid midi skirt and black tights underneath. The chests did not contain any complete outfits, but I could not complain. I walked down the stairs in the shiny blue sneakers, which stood in stark contrast to my own, whose sole almost fell off. The main restaurant was packed, and I sat down on my barstool on the far left of the bar, not paying attention to anyone else.

“Saving your seat cost me some effort,” Marlon greeted me. “And your dinner is ready, so what do you want to drink with it?”

“Thank you. Water is fine.”

“Sparkling?”

“Nah, tap water,” I replied, noting I got a clean glass. Three minutes later, a waitress made her way to me. Her coal-black hair was firmly combed backward and hold together by a bun as a white headpiece of thin lace topped her head.

“Hey, I’m Alison and will serve you tonight,” my waitress said, setting the plate on my table. “Madam wished you would receive our special British burger with bacon, farmhouse cheddar, and Worchester sauce. A little salad as a side combined with fries and homemade mayonnaise.”

The wicked smile of bright red lipstick on her polished white face unsettled me. “Send her my thanks, if you will. It looks delicious.”

I pressed my polished fork into the fries as she ran off, convincing myself Miriam was legit and that I would not end up roofied and raped. If so, she could have captured me upstairs already.

I caught Marlon’s eyes. “Bree, you don’t like it?”

“No, no, it’s wonderful,” I replied, biting into a fry. My white lie turned out to be true. The fry was well-seasoned and crispy. I placed my fork on the bar, grabbed the burger, and snatched a bite: Juicy, quality meat. With sauce dripping from my just washed mouth, he gave me paper napkins.

“Marlon, no worries, the food’s always amazing here,” I heard next to me. A tall, dark-skinned young man wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt feasted on lamb chops. “It’s excellent as usual. If only those Michelin snobs dared to enter.”

“I will pass your feedback to the chef. Is Ginny enjoying her salad?”

Next to the man sat a girl with honey skin and neon green hair. Steel rings enclosed her wrists, and a 10-inch chain connected the cuffs. Ginny wore nothing but a pair of ripped black jeans and red pumps. Her chest was fully exposed.

“I hope so,” the man next to me answered, who I presumed was her boyfriend. “She dropped two glasses of wine yesterday, so punishment was necessary. Only I did not want to miss the wrestling, and I can’t keep her spread-eagled on the bed while I’m gone.”

Marlon handed his customer a new pint. “Yeah, never leave ‘m alone while tied up, especially with gags. Last month, a man alone in a strappado slipped, strangled himself, and suffocated.”

I understood little of the discussion and watched the plate I emptied. The food warmed my body as I regained the energy to concentrate: How did I get in this situation? And more importantly, was I at risk? Were these people generous, or had I walked right into a trap? Both my phone and pocket knife were upstairs, and Marlon marked me too closely to sneak away.

“So, how was everything?” Alison asked when I set my fork down for the final time.

“Fantastic,” I stumbled still with a half-empty mouth. I had missed my waitress’s approach. “Best I had in months.”

“Madam will be pleased to hear that,” Alison said, seizing my plate. She also took the plates of Ginny and her boyfriend as her tiny apron’s giant bow on her back bumped up and down.

“Honey, hands please,” Ginny’s boyfriend said, clicking a key in the locks. “Now raise them up, so Marlon has a good view.”

Ginny complied, and he pulled them further up, leading the chain around a steel pipe that ran parallel to the bar. It forced her to sit upright and turn toward me.

“Marlon, fetch me one of those red cotton scarves, will you?”

Marlon complied, not taken aback by the half-naked girl, and allowed the man to tie a thick knot in it and force it in the girl’s mouth. Ginny grumbled as he tugged it tightly behind her head.

“A supreme brownie sundae for you, Bree,” Alison interrupted my stare. I jumped up once more, causing her to giggle. Was the gaze from the corner of my eyes too obvious? Alison left as fast as she had appeared, so I could focus on the sugar bomb: A hefty chunk of brownie topped with salted caramel ice cream. I took a bite and stared up in happiness, not having had such a luxurious treat for ages. Marlon smirked back as he filled pints, and as I reddened, I gazed away.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” the man to my right said.

“Yeah.”

“Dax, nice to meet you, and this is my wife, Ginny.” Dax pointed at the girl, who growled into the scarf.

I flashed my teeth to mask my discomfort. “Bree.”

“Is this your first encounter with bondage?”

I glanced at Ginny but bobbed my head away to shovel warm brownie on my fork. “Um, sorry, what? People tying each other?”

Dax laughed. “No need to blush or pull your eyes away from my magnificent wife. It’s free today. Forgive me for asking this, but why are you here? Vanilla folk is not allowed in on Fridays.”

The man indeed did not care that I studied his wife’s figure while I tried to prepare an answer. I had no clue who the ‘vanilla folk’ were, or he had to refer to my white skin. Ginny, although not having albinism, barely had a tan. She worked out, and her breasts, contrary to many local crack junkies, were smooth C cups. Our bodies did not differ much, and I had no idea what Dax meant. “Long story short, Miriam invited me.” As a rule, I kept my homelessness secret as it ended every conversation. Few kept treating me as an equal after bringing it up, so only when I panhandled, I appeared as one.

“Alright, that’s cool. And what do you think of the Maiden?”

Strategically, I put a scoop of ice in my mouth. “It’s a small culture shock,” I said when I had pushed the cold through my throat. “I’ve never seen such a thing before.”

“I can understand that. It still boggles me how many people love being tied up. Have you ever wondered about it yourself?”

“No, never,” I said. In my first foster family, I was shut in the closet once by a jealous foster sister, but I had never thought anything of it.

“Do you want to try it? I’ll pay.”

“Um, sorry, I am so prudent, but I prefer to keep my clothes on.”

Dax laughed, laying his arm on my leg. “I ain’t asking you to strip. I only offer a few short ropes to let you experience what being stuck is like, and I will untie you instantly when you want.”

I turned my head away from Dax, having to think. I caught Marlon’s eye as he dried a wineglass and overheard the exchange.

“Remember, Bree, no is no. But you can trust Dax. He’s a good lad, and I’ll watch you.”
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Post by Caesar73 »

I like Bree as a character and you created a nice atmosphere in the inn :)
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Post by Tieup1 »

Nice to meet some more characters in this story. Plenty for Bree to take in, plenty of temptation, to deal with, everybody seems over friendly. :)
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Post by slackywacky »

You have this knack for coming up with ideas for stories that are special and exclusive. This is another great example. A bit My Fair Lady like, except you don't have them say "The rain in Spain is mostly in the plains", the gags would prevent that ;)
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by Beaumains »

Tieup1 wrote: 2 years ago Nice to meet some more characters in this story. Plenty for Bree to take in, plenty of temptation, to deal with, everybody seems over friendly. :)
Thanks for your comment. But now the question is, is their friendliness genuine?
slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago You have this knack for coming up with ideas for stories that are special and exclusive. This is another great example. A bit My Fair Lady like, except you don't have them say "The rain in Spain is mostly in the plains", the gags would prevent that ;)
Thanks a lot for your comment! I, an uncultured youngster, had never heard from that musical before, but I read the summary. Having some bet to 'culture' Bree into bondage would indeed be a good and devious underlying plot. Also, I dismiss your request to turn the story into a bondage musical. "She cried outside and died while tied tight" is not very catchy.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago
Tieup1 wrote: 2 years ago Nice to meet some more characters in this story. Plenty for Bree to take in, plenty of temptation, to deal with, everybody seems over friendly. :)
Thanks for your comment. But now the question is, is their friendliness genuine?

The thought crossed my mind too :) It seems too good to be true, one could think :)
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Post by slackywacky »

Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago [Also, I dismiss your request to turn the story into a bondage musical. "She cried outside and died while tied tight" is not very catchy.
A bondage musical... hmmm, that relates to an other forum on the board where the topic is tv-series and movies from stories. This story, actually most of your stories would be a good addition to that list.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by Beaumains »

Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago I like Bree as a character and you created a nice atmosphere in the inn :)
Thanks a lot! She's not your average damsel, but I figured I had never written from the perspective of a total tie-up novice.
slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago
Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago [Also, I dismiss your request to turn the story into a bondage musical. "She cried outside and died while tied tight" is not very catchy.
A bondage musical... hmmm, that relates to an other forum on the board where the topic is tv-series and movies from stories. This story, actually most of your stories would be a good addition to that list.
Thanks a lot! A bondage musical would be a terrible idea, but I am kinda curious to see someone tying someone up for rea in a choreagraphed way. That would require quite skill.

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Dax’s grin was relaxed, soothing, and certainly not intimidating. “Okay,” I said. “But I prefer to know what you’ll do upfront.”

“Of course! Your body, your rules,” Dax replied with his wife’s bare breasts displayed behind him. Ginny listened with a scarf pressed in her mouth and cuffs that forced her to sit upright and face us. “I’ll use three short ropes, all 6 feet long. Two will hold your ankles to the barstool,” he explained, pointing at his ankles that pressed against the wooden legs. Then he crossed his arms behind him. “The last rope will keep your hands behind your back.”

Dax’s calm explanation surprised me as Ginny had received no mercy or details upfront. “That’s fine with me.”

“Three yellow ropes, please,” Dax ordered as the colors on the tips correlated with the length of the thick, white rope.

“They’ll be on the house,” Marlon said. “Or well, let’s add one little rule: they’re free if Bree lasts until you leave for the wrestling tourney.”

Dax seized one of the coils from the bar and unfolded it, holding the middle as the two ends fell down. He stepped from his chair and knelt down, and I placed my feet on the footrest and my ankles against the legs. Dax circled the rope’s middle around my ankle and the chair, laced the two ends through the middle, and tightened the rope slightly by pulling it in the opposite direction.

“This hurts a little, doesn’t it?” Dax asked, and I confirmed the rope scrubbed against the black tights. He twisted the knot, making it press against the wood. “Never cross ropes against someone’s skin.” He looped the rope three extra times around, giving eight windings in total before he angled it into the gap between my ankle and the leg of the chair. “This’s called cinching. Now you can’t slip out anymore,” Dax explained, winding the rope around the rectangle it created between the chair’s leg and my ankle. He jerked it, and at once, I was stuck. A quick hitch around the wood sealed my foot’s fate.

“How does this feel?”

“Different,” I said, not having formed an opinion yet. “It does not hurt, but I cannot move.”

“Then I have not messed up. Ready for your other leg?” Dax inquired, and when I consented, he stood up and wormed into the cramped space between my bar stool and the wall. He applied the exact same knot, save for being mirrored. First, little O’s connected my ankle to the chair, which was squeezed as the rope ran across them perpendicularly. Almost like a watermelon with hundreds of elastic bands around it. My mom and brother had done that experiment a week before the accident, I sadly recalled.

The second tie took Dax two minutes. The rope slid over the polished wood, allowing me some movement, but I could not lift my shoes from the footrest nor wiggle free.

“Do you want to finish your dessert before I tie your hands?”

“Sorry,” I apologized, grabbing the last delicious brownie crumbles with my spoon together with the caramel ice cream.

Dax smirked as my hands disappeared behind my back. “Ready? Hang your arms downward and relax your muscles.” I obliged. The rope’s middle passed between my thumbs, crossing my wrists the blue turtleneck covered, and the ends moved through this hole. Dax winded twice in that direction and twice in the other, forming a cross. Two more so-called cinches later, he finished the knot. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“The wrestling starts in 35 minutes, so you’ve to persist for half an hour. Can you do that?” Dax sat back on his barstool, flanked by two bound women, and took a gulp from his pint.

“I hope so,” I replied, willing to try. Dax should not pay for the ropes. I relaxed, and Alison ran past me to snatch my plate, only winking with a crafty smirk. Dax remained silent, and I stared at Marlon, uneased by the large man with his forked beard. He could grab me, strike me, assault me, and I could do nothing.

“Enjoying yourself, Bree?” Marlon asked casually, not taking advantage of the peculiar situation. I nodded and calmed myself by focusing on my breathing and disconnected my eyes from the barkeeper. I was stuck for thirty minutes, but it was no disaster. It was not like hiding from the rain under a too-short ridge or being crushed by a fat, smelly man against the window of an overfull bus. My predicament resembled a long Greyhound ride: dreaming away and staring at the landscape passing by. I could not leave but knew my lack of freedom was temporary.

The festive inn had enough conversations to overhear, although picking up an entire sentence was rare, let alone one I could understand. Dax and Marlon talked about the wrestling tournament, agreeing Green Viper would win the woman’s middleweight title for the 4th time. I rolled my shoulders and shook my back, releasing the strain out of my muscles. Ginny shrieked next to me.

“Bree, watch out!” Dax exclaimed. He caught me and pushed me up. “The chair can still fall. Don’t lean back too far.”

“Sorry, and um, thank you,” I blushed. The chair had not tipped, but I had not considered the possibility.

“Five more minutes,” he said, returning to his beer in silence. I could not grab my glass of water, which Marlon had refilled unprompted. The ropes behind my back held my hands there. My hands were small, but my wrists were thinner, so the knot did not fell off. Dax had fastened the finishing knot atop my wrists, outside my reach, so I was stuck. Yet, the tight rope allowed movement. The tie functioned as a hinge, letting my hands move up and down.

Then, Dax yawned a final time, fetched a key from his wallet, and undid Ginny’s cuffs, only to fasten them behind her back. “Honey, time to watch some exciting wrestling. I will cheer for two as you won’t,” Dax said, pinching her right boob. It was oddly non-threatening. Calm? Playful? Ginny’s eyes twinkled, and the skin on her cheeks moved up. “Good girl,” he hummed before giving her boob a little spank. Then turning to me and knelt to untie me. “Bree, you have been good as well. I got a dare for you: Keep your hands tied during the wrestling.”

I agreed, not wanting to disappoint the lovely couple, who had shown genuine kindness, something I had not experienced in months. Dax got his pint and my water, and the three of us fought our way through the crowd. Many more were cuffed or wore a lot less, so nobody paid attention to me. Walking cuffed was weird, lacking the power to knock people away, but everyone let me pass.

The adjacent ballroom contained a small square arena with three rows of half-filled benches. Dax directed us to a top row. I was dressed among the most modest in the room, although I seldom wore a skirt or tights. Cleavage was the norm for women. On the other end of the spectrum, ropes circled the bases of the breast, letting them stand out and color red. Dax had laid his arm around Ginny and played unabashedly with her boobs.

“Welcome, welcome everyone, to the third night of the Tangled Maiden’s Autumn Bondage Wrestling Open,” Miriam announced. The same shiny black skin concealed her body, but she now wore black elbow-long gloves and a black cape that reached her knees as well. The killer heels had been exchanged for red cotton socks. “Tonight, the champions of our last two remaining divisions, the women’s middleweight and the men’s heavyweight, will be crowned. Many will know our simple rules by heart, but a few newcomers appeared tonight.”

Miriam glanced at me, making a brick drop on my stomach, but I flashed my teeth. There had been no need to embarrass me in front of about 120 people.

“Each match, two competitors try to tie each other up within the red ring using grappling techniques,” Miriam explained. She pointed at a ring of thick red paint on the otherwise white mat. When one deems their opponent cannot escape anymore, they grab their bandanna and cleave-gag their opponent. You win when the opponent does remove their gag within a minute. Are you ready for tonight’s opening match!”

Save for the gag part, I grasped the rules and nodded, more puzzled than hyped up.

“Eight women dared to enter the woman’s middleweight division, and the 1st and 8th seed will square off first. For our first competitor, it will be her maiden match. She’s 21 years old, the youngest competitor of tonight, and a waitress at the Tangled Maiden… It is our own CATALINA!” The crowd roared as Catalina ran into the arena, showing the customers supported the underdog. The tall blonde wore a totally black bikini as her hair was fashioned in two pigtails.

Two transparent plastic boxes stood on two sides of the arena, and Catalina climbed in one from the back.

“Catalina’s opponent in her first-ever official match will be a daunting challenge. I welcome back 7-time seasonal champion, winner of her last 16 official matches, and reigning middleweight champion, GREEEEEEN VIIIIIIPERRRRR!” The crowd cheered a lot louder as a shorter Asian woman stepped into the arena. The sixpack and biceps she showed off already spoiled the uneven match. Her long hair ran loosely to her chest as she raised her arm. If I had not known she was a voracious fighter, she would have been charming. Her green bikini depicted a viper with red eyes and an opened mouth displaying two sharp white teeth and a drop of blood on her ass and breasts. She took her place in her box, swapping her innocent face for one hunting for blood. She stared at her opponent and licked her lower lip, hungry for a win.

A buzzer sounded, and red lights turned on in both boxes, illuminating the two wrestlers. The lights turned orange as the buzzer sounded once more before it turned green as I heard a click. The two front gates of both boxes were unlocked. Catalina and the Green Viper stormed out, traversing the red line towards the middle, where a few coils of black rope lay. The match had begun.
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Post by slackywacky »

Bondage, wrestling, this story is going places. Wrestling is not a subject that is touched on often I think.
Great update, well written. Let's see who wins... (I might be biased)
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by Caesar73 »

slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago Bondage, wrestling, this story is going places. Wrestling is not a subject that is touched on often I think.
Great update, well written. Let's see who wins... (I might be biased)
Absolutely :) I would say the combination is rather unique :)
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Post by Tieup1 »

Another interesting chapter, I did not expect the wrestling, but it is bondage inspired, so it should be fun. :)

I look forward to see what happens next 8-)
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Post by Beaumains »

slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago Bondage, wrestling, this story is going places. Wrestling is not a subject that is touched on often I think.
Great update, well written. Let's see who wins... (I might be biased)
Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago
slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago Bondage, wrestling, this story is going places. Wrestling is not a subject that is touched on often I think.
Great update, well written. Let's see who wins... (I might be biased)
Absolutely :) I would say the combination is rather unique :)
Thanks a lot for taking the time to comment! Bondage wrestling sometimes appears on this site, but not very often or in longer stories that are not centered on the wrestling. So, in that regard, it is kinda unique (but I have not read every story here). Wrestling has been on my ideas list for some time, and I had initially planned it for Dressed at my Best but fits this story a lot better. I am glad you are enjoying another offbeat story of mine.
Tieup1 wrote: 2 years ago Another interesting chapter, I did not expect the wrestling, but it is bondage inspired, so it should be fun. :)

I look forward to see what happens next 8-)
Thanks fro your comment! Wrestling was already mentioned in the second part, but I did not emphasize it or mention it was bondage wrestling intentionally. So I am not surprised you missed it. And yeah, bondage will certainly make the wrestling more fun.
NotSeen
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Post by NotSeen »

I have to admit, the addition of bondage would be an interesting addition to submission wrestling (which is, incidentally, an actual sport).
Beaumains
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Post by Beaumains »

NotSeen wrote: 2 years ago I have to admit, the addition of bondage would be an interesting addition to submission wrestling (which is, incidentally, an actual sport).
Thanks for your comment. Although the amount of content is limited and of varying quality, you can find videos of (competitive) bondage wrestling online. Sadly, it is not mainstream. On this site, there are also various stories about (professional) bondage wrestling.
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Post by Beaumains »

Catalina and the Green Viper rushed towards the three ropes in the middle of the circle. No other weaponry was yet in the game, forcing both women to meet in the center. I anticipated a big clash. Catalina jumped up, presuming to wrestle in the heart of the ring and get the high ground. Only, the experienced Viper dove under her headfirst, gobbling up all three ropes in the process.

Catalina’s blonde pigtails swept through the air as she halted and spun around. Her competitor, the current champion, had put two ropes on the edge of the red circle and held the middle of the last one in her left hand. Both waited.

“The Viper has the ropes, so Catalina has to engage,” Dax murmured enthusiastically. As half of the public could not speak or clap their hands, they slammed their feet on the wooden boards under their seats to produce noise. “Otherwise, she receives a penalty for inactivity.”

The underdog in her black bikini crouched forward without her initial aggression. She had lost the first battle, giving her a major disadvantage. Five feet from the Viper, she halted, arching around, searching for an opening. She hoped the favorite would engage first, but the Asian girl lingered between Catalina and the pile of ropes. Nothing happened for ten long seconds.

“Catalina, first penalty. Inactivity,” one of the referees barked. In total, four referees stood outside the circle wearing black-white checkered shirts.

Catalina inched closer, standing on her knees with her hands raised at shoulder level. Her dangerous opponent mirrored the stance with a smirk that would let me flee. Catalina’s right hand was ready to snatch the rope, but the Viper grasped her plan. She migrated her left hand outside, forcing her opponent’s eyes to choose between following the black rope and her right hand. Sensing the Viper had moved her hands too far out and exposed her body, Catalina leaped forward from her toes like a frog, clutching the rope. As quick as a cat, the girl in the neon green bikini countered and rose up. Her right hand grabbed Catalina’s left elbow and pushed it further up as her left hand pulled the rope. She flipped Catalina’s body in the air, turning it 180 degrees, and pushed it down, ending on top.

“NO,” Catalina exclaimed in frustration. As she lay on her back, one of the Green Viper’s knees pressed on her stomach while the other pinned her right hand to the white mat. The Viper’s right hand had slid down her left elbow to her wrist, clasping it under Catalina’s right breast. With her non-dominant left hand, the Viper grabbed the middle of a second rope, doubled it, and pushed the loop under her skinny arm, an inch above her elbow. Dax had used the same method on me.

Meanwhile, Catalina thrashed on the floor, placing her heels near her bottom, and pushed herself up in a display of strength. The Green Viper balanced for a second, guiding the rope under Catalina’s back, and jumped off her victim’s left side. She tugged the rope, flipping Catalina once more because her arm was pulled under her body. The favorite circled her legs around Catalina’s body, grappling it as she seized Catalina’s other arm and pressed both arms behind her leg. The current champion twisted her rope three times around them, so six times in total as it was doubled. After pulling the windings tight, she, again copying Dax, cinched the knot. Catalina’s elbows almost touched. That seemed painful, and she could never reach the knot, let alone untie it. Her arms were trapped.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” I muttered.

“Yeah, but the Green Viper could add some more ropes to help the gagging.” I realized that putting something in someone’s mouth to silence them is called gagging.

Dax was right. The beaming Green Viper grasped another rope and fastened it around one ankle of her kicking, still grappled prey. She pulled it toward her thigh and whirled it around, promoting her knee to the new end of her leg. Catalina had given up and did not struggle anymore. The Green Viper paraded to her box and picked up her neon green bandanna. Catalina had awaited her inevitable fate, obediently opened her mouth, and allowed the green cotton to enter. After knotting it behind her victim’s head, the Viper walked away as a buzzer announced the start of the countdown. One humiliating minute later, the buzzer signaled the match had ended.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first match of the night did not take long. The winner is… THE GREEN VIPER!” Miriam shouted as she reentered the ring. The Green Viper smirked deviously but did celebrate her win. Instead, she untied Catalina’s arms and gave her a hug, whispering in her ear.

“A humiliation,” Dax told me. “Caitlyn’s such a sweet girl and did not deserve this. Each and every move she made worsened her position. She hadn’t had a chance of winning, but no one begrudged her one decent move during her debut.”

The two fighters left the arena, the Viper having her arm around Catalina’s shoulder. Outside the fight, she produced less venom. Across the stands, the waitresses delivered orders and took new ones as Miriam introduced the next two fighters. They had a close, intense fight and brawled on the mat for a few minutes, trading advantages and fixing each other’s limps. The explosive start of their match slowed down as both got entangled in the flurry of ropes and sweat. Both did not untie themselves but kept attacking, and the second seed secured her win as her web closed. Despite her bound legs were and hands cuffed in front of her, she had pulled a blindfold over her opponent’s head, who could not move anymore. Her arms were crossed and tied to her ankles with at least five ropes in total.

I had not been to a sporting event ever since dropping out of high school and had to acclimate to the excitement of such an event. The crowd supported everyone and rewarded risky maneuvers and clean, professional round-ups alike. There were no teams or city names mentioned, suggesting all wrestlers were frequent customers of the Tangled Maiden.

And then there was the sport itself: bondage wrestling. Power, acrobatics, tying skills, and mind games were combined in one brutal event. Most of the higher-seeded athletes showed expertise and confidence, telling me the tournament was not a one-off. They had trained for this event and had wrestled many more matches in their life. For me, it was a totally new world.

“That was the final match of the first round,” Miriam declared. A man consisting of pure muscle rested on the mat in a red speedo. His wrists were tied behind his back, and his legs bent, so his ankles touched his ankles. He panted in the brown bandanna. There had been more exciting matches as his adversary had secured his legs together, wore him out with grappling, and finished him off.

“Dax, um, could you untie my hands, please?” I asked as the break began. “I need to find a toilet.”

“Of course,” Dax said as he released my wrists and explained where the bathroom was. “Did you enjoy the tie? Did it hurt?”

I wanted to walk away but turned around. “No, no, it was fine. No worries.”

“Come one, Bree. Tell us some more. We’re curious to know whether you could like bondage.”

“Well, actually, I haven’t really noticed the rope. I kinda forgot it. I focused too much on the wrestling.”

Somehow, my honest answer amused Dax, and he let me off. Alone, I made my way to the women’s bathroom. “What the…” I grunted as I opened the door. In the middle of the room, a lady was restrained to a pole. Thick chains secured the woman’s neck and ankles to the iron pole and her wrists to a hook in the ceiling. A black sack was pulled over her head, and a thick padlock closed the ring around her neck. Besides that, she only wore pink panties.

Two girls around my age giggled and chattered as they wrote ‘SLUT’ with a red marker inside her thighs and tickled her. Soft groans came from under the sack, so I supposed she was ‘gagged’ too. Then I read the text on her breasts. “Leave a friendly message for my Master <3.”

I noped out and shut myself in a stall, did my thing, washed my hands with water, and rushed out without drying them. I had no intention to deal with any of that and craved to return to Dax and Ginny. Although they were odd strangers, they were kind and took no advantage of me.

As I returned to the arena, a hand seized my arm. “Hey, you’re Bree, right? Could we talk for a minute?”

I swung around. A bald man in his mid-forties with a brown stubble beard smiled in front of me. He wore a blue shirt with a brown waistcoat.

“How are you doing? My name’s James.”

“Bree, nice meeting you. I gotta go. I don’t fancy missing the semifinals.”

I noticed a short lease in his other hand. It led to a collar around the neck of a blindfolded brunette. A plate of red leather concealed the petite girl’s mouth, and her hands were restrained behind her back with her hands gripping her elbows. Rubber bands around her D-cup boobs made them grow to an unnatural size. Their purple color showed it hurt. I pitied her.

“Relax,” James smirked as he gripped my arm firmly. I disliked him already. “The matches start in 20 minutes. We got time, and my little whore is enjoying herself, isn’t she?”

The girl nodded, and James patted her head.

“Could you please let go of my arm?” I commanded. On the streets, men frequently touched me, even though my figurative wardrobe was modest and covered most of my skin. Making my disgust clear and demanding them to leave me alone was always the first step. James let go.

“At least listen. We overheard you were homeless, and you’re gorgeous, so I can supply you with quick, well-paid work. What do you reckon? We can start off with a hogtie tomorrow, and depending on your limits during further projects, you could make enough for your own apartment.”

“I’m uninterested in doing porn.”

James seized my arm again as I tried walking away. “I attempt to help you. An extremely wealthy client tasked me to find young albino girls. They’re exceptionally rare in this country, and there’s no material at all. You’re good-looking and let yourself be tied up voluntarily. We’re talking about thousands of dollars for a day’s work!”

“I’m not an escort either. Leave me alone, or I’ll scream,” I fired in James’s face before running to the arena. Over the years, I had encountered many other homeless girls who gambled on easy money in exchange for sex in desperation. Success stories were scarce as numerous had disappeared forever. The 1 percent risk increased to 30.
Last edited by Beaumains 2 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

This chapter is well composed: The wrestling match, which was written incredibly well, you could it imagine very well. And second half: Brees dialogue with James trying to convince her doing some bondage shoots. I wonder if James will accept Brees refusal.
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Post by Beaumains »

Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago This chapter is well composed: The wrestling match, which was written incredibly well, you could it imagine very well. And second half: Brees dialogue with James trying to convince her doing some bondage shoots. I wonder if James will accept Brees refusal.
Thanks a lot! Bree was really put off by James's offer, so I sincerly doubt accepting would even cross her mind.
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Post by Boundcurious »

I’ve enjoyed the generally consensual nature and unique idea. I love the strong women in this too. Go Bree!
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Post by Tieup1 »

A good chapter, the wrestling match was well described, and was well told. I would advise Bree to stay away from James, I think he may be up to no good, and could cause trouble. :shock:
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