CGC Short Stories - Amanda and Janie (Apr. 16, 2024)
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Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 230
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
A nice long addition. Enjoyed it greatly, thank you.
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
I apologize for the step down in quality on this installment. I strangely struggled with this tale and found it difficult to write it up.
The Tree (mF/f)
“Look at her,” Trenton Patterson whispered to his father while his sister sat on the floor by the Christmas tree.
Every year, partially at their father’s encouragement, the three Patterson siblings would sit down by the Christmas tree and study each of the presents that was perfectly wrapped and sitting under the greenery, ornaments, and bright lights. Father joked that he worked such long hours so that “he could enjoy his children’s faces on Christmas morning.” The youngest child, now a senior in high school along with her brother, sat there in abject sadness.
Decked in her favorite color of red, Janie had noticed that, as was typical, that there were fewer presents with her name than there were for her siblings. This was a repeated cycle that was, to her ignorance, secretly rectified by her siblings and father; this happened every single year. Red socks, red and black plaid fleece pajama pants, a red t-shirt, and, a leftover from her day’s outfit, a red bandana headband accompanied by a braid with a red scrunchie. Since she had nowhere to go, the girl had changed into said pajamas while it was still daylight.
“We have enough time; we’ll fix this,” Father promised, “Do whatever you want and just ask me first.”
“All right,” Trenton turned to Janie, “Hey, sis, let’s go upstairs and whip out a game.”
“With me?” Janie didn’t look at him but got up to follow, “All right.”
Despite the often discussed connection between Janie and her big sister Lauren, Janie’s guardian was more her brother. At Christmas, he was always the one who made sure that Janie had just as much put into her as her siblings, but she really had the most effort because she had both father and her siblings putting thought into making sure she had a memorable day. Today was just the beginning of one such occasion of Trenton making sure Janie’s emotional needs were met.
Janie plodded up the stairs while hanging her head down, and she let out a deep, frustrated sigh. If only she knew she wouldn’t worry about such things; Janie wasn’t even materialistic despite her emotions about these matters. She would be happy getting only a pair of socks each year as long as Trenton and Lauren only got a pair of socks as well. It was their mother’s blatant favoritism that hurt her.
There was also a moody teenager side to Janie, now 16 years old. She was two years ahead in school, and she showed the emotions of a girl who was displaced from her chronological peers despite handling the high school workload, balancing that with a college workload, and being the best softball shortstop in the state. All of her intellectual and athletic duties were fulfilled above and beyond expectations, but she was missing something.
“Trenton, why does life suck so badly?” she asked as they walked into his room.
“It wouldn’t suck so badly if you’d stop giving suck quickies in the locker rooms.”
“Trenton! How could you say such a thing?!” she blushed and stared into the corner.
“Nine guys, including one of my teammates, perhaps; especially since only one wasn’t a jock.”
“I’m sorry, Trenton; I don’t know why I do it!”
“I’m not here to talk about that; I’m here to enjoy a game with my little sister.”
“Did I hear the word ‘game’ uttered from here?” Lauren stuck her head into the room.
“Yes, you did. The game we’re playing is ‘Kidnap the Girl in Red,’” Trenton laughed.
Janie turned around in a heartbeat to face her siblings. Janie was as big as her sister and even stronger, but she was no match against her brother in a wrestling match. Lauren’s smile showed pure mischief, but there was a twinkle in Trenton’s eyes that betrayed some secret motive behind this. She forgot her earlier sadness and couldn’t help but smile despite being forcefully backed into the corner.
Lauren’s hand clamped on Janie’s mouth so tightly that it was as good as a tape gag. Together, the siblings carried their little sister to the bedroom the girls shared. It was only appropriate that the girl in all red get tied up in all red binding. Knowing she was easily overpowered, Janie did not offer any resistance and instead submitted to her siblings’ will. If she knew the motive for doing this, she’d beg him to tie her up.
Janie was forced to kneel tightly against her sister’s bunk, the lower bunk of the bed, and had her torso pushed flat against the bed. Her socks came off her feet and made their new home inside her mouth with a groan of absolute disgust. A red bandana was the only acceptable choice to hold the gag firm. That jumpstarted some squirming from the girl, especially since Trenton used one of her long red ropes to bind her wrists and then ran it up to the railing of her own bunk.
A second red rope began to tie her elbows together in a tight fashion that showed little mercy, and Lauren covered her lips and cheeks with strips of red duct. There was nothing the youngster could do to defend herself any longer, but her eyes began to sparkle from the thrill of TUGs. As the rope worked its way up her legs at Lauren’s hands, Trent stuffed a little cotton in each ear and held it in with a piece of tape. Another red bandana blindfolded her, her crossed ankles were tied with the red rope, and a semi-hogtie ran from her ankles to her elbows although it only lifted her feet a couple of inches off the floor.
“Enjoy!” Lauren gave her a hard swat on the rear.
SMACK!
“MMMM!” wailed the victim.
“Save that for later; we have work,” Trent quietly chided his older sister.
“Be back later if you don’t escape first!” Lauren taunted the deaf, mute, and blind captive.
“We're saving Christmas! Now get over here before I spreadeagle you!”
“All right,” Lauren walked over to where he sat, “What is it?”
Trenton explained the situation with Janie and the presents under the tree. His little sister deserved better, and they were going to do some Christmas shopping for their pride and joy. Despite their mother's disdain for Janie, Trenton believed she was the easiest person for shopping. Clothes of all kinds, so long as they were her style, made her happy.
Various clothing items of the kind Janie loved most were among the numerous small items that filled the list. Trent’s goal was to make it so that Janie had more packages under the tree while still remaining within their father's limits. These little things added up greatly, and scribbling on a couple packages to make them be to all three children would fix matters.
“If Dad OK’s it, will you go get it all?” Trent looked at his big sister.
“Wellllll,” she clearly wanted to tease, and probably tickle Janie, but love prevailed, “All right.”
“Thanks, sis, and I promise that she’ll still be here and waiting for you when you come back.”
“Provided she doesn’t escape first!”
SMACK!
“MMMMMM!”
Janie struggled in her cruel rope prison. The taste of her socks was absolutely terrible; nothing was like the humiliation of having your dirty socks in your mouth except having someone else’s dirty socks in your mouth. She squirmed and tried to move about, but the bizarre strappado and hogtie ensured she only slipped around.
The sadness of the scene by the tree had temporarily left her though. Here she was in one of the only places where she felt truly safe: tied up and under the careful watch of her older siblings. It was like living in a fairy tale every time she was playing one of these games. Thoughts about her life suddenly didn’t matter anymore; in Trenton and Lauren she had an escape from the reality of being unwanted by their mother.
“Janie, how was your birthday?” Lauren had called her four months prior.
“Um, Dad got me a new cell phone case, and Trent tied me up for bed.”
“What kind of cake did you have?”
“What cake?”
Lauren cried when she heard that. From her position as the favorite, she couldn't put herself in Janie’s shoes, but Trenton had, on occasion, stuck his neck out far enough to incur their mother's wrath. Lauren denied reality from being privileged; Janie denied it to keep her fragile sanity from collapsing further; but Trenton embraced it to protect the little sister in whom he saw so much potential.
Mrs. Patterson only had one dream: to have a stereotypical doctor’s family with one son and one daughter. Despite their efforts, a third child soon arrived, and the Roman Catholics on both sides of the family begged her to give the child a chance. Janie was born, but despite the love from the rest of her family and relations she was garbage in her mother's eyes. Over 90% of the time, Mother acted like Janie didn't even exist. The joy of the elder siblings and Daddy’s princess was also Mother's bane. Janie had not even talked to their mother since October; she was waiting for Mother to make the next move and talk to her for a change.
Enough rubbing of her face against her sister’s bed eventually got the blindfold off her eyes; if that wasn’t too tight, then perhaps the ropes weren’t. She turned to her brother who was now her only company and gave him a confident smile under the layers of gag. She thought her older siblings adored her; she adored them! But she didn't truly appreciate or understand it like she thought she did.
“Mmmmm!”
The fleece ensured she continued to slide and couldn't reach the strappado to release it and lower her arms. She had to do this the harder way. The greatest disadvantage was that she was easily the most flexible of her siblings, and that meant she could be easily put into a stringent tie and left for long durations. Trouble was certain, guaranteed even, if she couldn't escape before Lauren returned from her absence. A squirm and a squeak proved she was trying her best.
After some careful consideration, Janie changed her approach. In a few moments, her wrists were free from the rope that bound them. She knew her brother's technique too well and knew all of its weaknesses, particularly with regard to knot placement. But, the TUG had done its job. In a few more minutes, Janie had extricated herself from the bonds and was peeling the tape off her ears and lips.
“That was fun! Can we do it again, but this time with a better rope job?”
“No, no, I think that's enough for tonight,” Trenton laughed heartily.
“I think I know what you did, but I’ll find out for sure,” she smiled, “Yes, I love my big brother.”
“No prob, sis,” he grinned sheepishly, “It's Christmastime. Be merry.”
It would be a Merry Christmas indeed.
The Tree (mF/f)
“Look at her,” Trenton Patterson whispered to his father while his sister sat on the floor by the Christmas tree.
Every year, partially at their father’s encouragement, the three Patterson siblings would sit down by the Christmas tree and study each of the presents that was perfectly wrapped and sitting under the greenery, ornaments, and bright lights. Father joked that he worked such long hours so that “he could enjoy his children’s faces on Christmas morning.” The youngest child, now a senior in high school along with her brother, sat there in abject sadness.
Decked in her favorite color of red, Janie had noticed that, as was typical, that there were fewer presents with her name than there were for her siblings. This was a repeated cycle that was, to her ignorance, secretly rectified by her siblings and father; this happened every single year. Red socks, red and black plaid fleece pajama pants, a red t-shirt, and, a leftover from her day’s outfit, a red bandana headband accompanied by a braid with a red scrunchie. Since she had nowhere to go, the girl had changed into said pajamas while it was still daylight.
“We have enough time; we’ll fix this,” Father promised, “Do whatever you want and just ask me first.”
“All right,” Trenton turned to Janie, “Hey, sis, let’s go upstairs and whip out a game.”
“With me?” Janie didn’t look at him but got up to follow, “All right.”
Despite the often discussed connection between Janie and her big sister Lauren, Janie’s guardian was more her brother. At Christmas, he was always the one who made sure that Janie had just as much put into her as her siblings, but she really had the most effort because she had both father and her siblings putting thought into making sure she had a memorable day. Today was just the beginning of one such occasion of Trenton making sure Janie’s emotional needs were met.
Janie plodded up the stairs while hanging her head down, and she let out a deep, frustrated sigh. If only she knew she wouldn’t worry about such things; Janie wasn’t even materialistic despite her emotions about these matters. She would be happy getting only a pair of socks each year as long as Trenton and Lauren only got a pair of socks as well. It was their mother’s blatant favoritism that hurt her.
There was also a moody teenager side to Janie, now 16 years old. She was two years ahead in school, and she showed the emotions of a girl who was displaced from her chronological peers despite handling the high school workload, balancing that with a college workload, and being the best softball shortstop in the state. All of her intellectual and athletic duties were fulfilled above and beyond expectations, but she was missing something.
“Trenton, why does life suck so badly?” she asked as they walked into his room.
“It wouldn’t suck so badly if you’d stop giving suck quickies in the locker rooms.”
“Trenton! How could you say such a thing?!” she blushed and stared into the corner.
“Nine guys, including one of my teammates, perhaps; especially since only one wasn’t a jock.”
“I’m sorry, Trenton; I don’t know why I do it!”
“I’m not here to talk about that; I’m here to enjoy a game with my little sister.”
“Did I hear the word ‘game’ uttered from here?” Lauren stuck her head into the room.
“Yes, you did. The game we’re playing is ‘Kidnap the Girl in Red,’” Trenton laughed.
Janie turned around in a heartbeat to face her siblings. Janie was as big as her sister and even stronger, but she was no match against her brother in a wrestling match. Lauren’s smile showed pure mischief, but there was a twinkle in Trenton’s eyes that betrayed some secret motive behind this. She forgot her earlier sadness and couldn’t help but smile despite being forcefully backed into the corner.
Lauren’s hand clamped on Janie’s mouth so tightly that it was as good as a tape gag. Together, the siblings carried their little sister to the bedroom the girls shared. It was only appropriate that the girl in all red get tied up in all red binding. Knowing she was easily overpowered, Janie did not offer any resistance and instead submitted to her siblings’ will. If she knew the motive for doing this, she’d beg him to tie her up.
Janie was forced to kneel tightly against her sister’s bunk, the lower bunk of the bed, and had her torso pushed flat against the bed. Her socks came off her feet and made their new home inside her mouth with a groan of absolute disgust. A red bandana was the only acceptable choice to hold the gag firm. That jumpstarted some squirming from the girl, especially since Trenton used one of her long red ropes to bind her wrists and then ran it up to the railing of her own bunk.
A second red rope began to tie her elbows together in a tight fashion that showed little mercy, and Lauren covered her lips and cheeks with strips of red duct. There was nothing the youngster could do to defend herself any longer, but her eyes began to sparkle from the thrill of TUGs. As the rope worked its way up her legs at Lauren’s hands, Trent stuffed a little cotton in each ear and held it in with a piece of tape. Another red bandana blindfolded her, her crossed ankles were tied with the red rope, and a semi-hogtie ran from her ankles to her elbows although it only lifted her feet a couple of inches off the floor.
“Enjoy!” Lauren gave her a hard swat on the rear.
SMACK!
“MMMM!” wailed the victim.
“Save that for later; we have work,” Trent quietly chided his older sister.
“Be back later if you don’t escape first!” Lauren taunted the deaf, mute, and blind captive.
“We're saving Christmas! Now get over here before I spreadeagle you!”
“All right,” Lauren walked over to where he sat, “What is it?”
Trenton explained the situation with Janie and the presents under the tree. His little sister deserved better, and they were going to do some Christmas shopping for their pride and joy. Despite their mother's disdain for Janie, Trenton believed she was the easiest person for shopping. Clothes of all kinds, so long as they were her style, made her happy.
Various clothing items of the kind Janie loved most were among the numerous small items that filled the list. Trent’s goal was to make it so that Janie had more packages under the tree while still remaining within their father's limits. These little things added up greatly, and scribbling on a couple packages to make them be to all three children would fix matters.
“If Dad OK’s it, will you go get it all?” Trent looked at his big sister.
“Wellllll,” she clearly wanted to tease, and probably tickle Janie, but love prevailed, “All right.”
“Thanks, sis, and I promise that she’ll still be here and waiting for you when you come back.”
“Provided she doesn’t escape first!”
SMACK!
“MMMMMM!”
Janie struggled in her cruel rope prison. The taste of her socks was absolutely terrible; nothing was like the humiliation of having your dirty socks in your mouth except having someone else’s dirty socks in your mouth. She squirmed and tried to move about, but the bizarre strappado and hogtie ensured she only slipped around.
The sadness of the scene by the tree had temporarily left her though. Here she was in one of the only places where she felt truly safe: tied up and under the careful watch of her older siblings. It was like living in a fairy tale every time she was playing one of these games. Thoughts about her life suddenly didn’t matter anymore; in Trenton and Lauren she had an escape from the reality of being unwanted by their mother.
“Janie, how was your birthday?” Lauren had called her four months prior.
“Um, Dad got me a new cell phone case, and Trent tied me up for bed.”
“What kind of cake did you have?”
“What cake?”
Lauren cried when she heard that. From her position as the favorite, she couldn't put herself in Janie’s shoes, but Trenton had, on occasion, stuck his neck out far enough to incur their mother's wrath. Lauren denied reality from being privileged; Janie denied it to keep her fragile sanity from collapsing further; but Trenton embraced it to protect the little sister in whom he saw so much potential.
Mrs. Patterson only had one dream: to have a stereotypical doctor’s family with one son and one daughter. Despite their efforts, a third child soon arrived, and the Roman Catholics on both sides of the family begged her to give the child a chance. Janie was born, but despite the love from the rest of her family and relations she was garbage in her mother's eyes. Over 90% of the time, Mother acted like Janie didn't even exist. The joy of the elder siblings and Daddy’s princess was also Mother's bane. Janie had not even talked to their mother since October; she was waiting for Mother to make the next move and talk to her for a change.
Enough rubbing of her face against her sister’s bed eventually got the blindfold off her eyes; if that wasn’t too tight, then perhaps the ropes weren’t. She turned to her brother who was now her only company and gave him a confident smile under the layers of gag. She thought her older siblings adored her; she adored them! But she didn't truly appreciate or understand it like she thought she did.
“Mmmmm!”
The fleece ensured she continued to slide and couldn't reach the strappado to release it and lower her arms. She had to do this the harder way. The greatest disadvantage was that she was easily the most flexible of her siblings, and that meant she could be easily put into a stringent tie and left for long durations. Trouble was certain, guaranteed even, if she couldn't escape before Lauren returned from her absence. A squirm and a squeak proved she was trying her best.
After some careful consideration, Janie changed her approach. In a few moments, her wrists were free from the rope that bound them. She knew her brother's technique too well and knew all of its weaknesses, particularly with regard to knot placement. But, the TUG had done its job. In a few more minutes, Janie had extricated herself from the bonds and was peeling the tape off her ears and lips.
“That was fun! Can we do it again, but this time with a better rope job?”
“No, no, I think that's enough for tonight,” Trenton laughed heartily.
“I think I know what you did, but I’ll find out for sure,” she smiled, “Yes, I love my big brother.”
“No prob, sis,” he grinned sheepishly, “It's Christmastime. Be merry.”
It would be a Merry Christmas indeed.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Bluelight Special: Part 3 (f/f)
Remember me and my awesome white t-shirt and white paisley bandana that my friend Jenny turned into a blue tie-dye t-shirt and bandana? It's me, the Bluelight Special, and I am back for a very special adventure.
I was dressed like I typically am: in blue. It's Minnesota, and it's so freaking cold here. My icy blue sweatpants and long sleeve t-shirt were my base. Over the t-shirt was my new blue tie-dye, and I had the matching bandana on my head as a kerchief. My feet were shod in my usual black canvas sneakers and white crew socks.
Mom and I were talking about Christmas. I mean my biological mother. It was our usual low whisper that allowed us to talk so long as her husband wasn't drunk. It was a danger nevertheless because the other men were just as bad. I was telling her that I was spending the night, Dec. 23, with a friend, which was more than I normally told her when my brother, two years my junior and a football player, walked into the room just as Mom left.
“What are you talking about?” he pushed me against the wall.
“Stuff. Maybe your Christmas present.”
“Tell me what it is,” he touched me inappropriately.
“I’m not telling,” I thought I had the cards for once.
“Tell me!” he punched me in the left arm, and I almost doubled over.
“A f-cking steel rod to ram up your a-s!” I gave him a nut shot.
I took off like a bat out of hell. My things were ready to go, and I skipped the hoodie. I knew I would get beaten, probably tied up and fondled, when I got home, so long as my biological father was in the mood to pulverize me. I didn't care. I ran to my car, jumped in, and drove off without my seatbelt yet secured. My heart rate was at least a thousand at that moment. From that day on, I spent more nights at friend's houses than I did at my own house.
I drove all the way to the local Meijer before going to Jenny’s house. No chances were taken. Call it what you will, but I didn't trust any of them except my bio mom, and even she was trusted with a watchful eye. One of these days, I figured, one of them will mutilate me for real. That's the thought I used to keep myself warm and cozy as I drove to Jenny’s house without having time to even grab my coat on a night where the temperature was supposed to drop below 0 Fahrenheit. Once I arrived there, I checked all directions as I walked up to the front door and let myself into the familiar home.
“Hi, Nichole. Jenny’s in the shower,” I was greeted by Mrs. Emily Kristensen.
“Oh, hi, Mom,” I could tell by the look on her face that my eyes were as wide as a deer’s.
“What happened this time?” she asked me with deep heartfelt concern.
“Oh, just my brother,” I rolled my eyes and held my dominant arm where he punched me.
“Are you all right?” she watched my hands moving about my body and betraying what kinds of contact had occurred,
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, but my face and body language said otherwise, “He touched me.”
I sat down on one of the dining room chairs and let her put her arm around me in the way only a mother can. She took a chair and sat with me; I didn't realize I was crying until she was dabbing my eyes with a tissue. I looked towards the fireplace mantle and its greenery and blue Christmas lights, and then I turned towards the Christmas tree. Now, I noticed two or three packages under there had blue paper with white accents instead of the red paper that the others had, and a couple of others had the same paper with the colors inverted.
How was it to see the world without blue like Jenny did? What was it like to not only not have the capability to see the world with what I thought was the prettiest color but to have never had it in the first place. I can't forget standing there while Jenny and her father painted her car the beautiful metallic blue that it is and hearing her complain that she was going to have a yellow car before her father realized what he had done. We all shared that laugh, but then Jenny absolutely surprised me when she stepped out of the bathroom.
Navy blue on Jenny was a shock. Navy and white plaid fleece pajama pants, blue socks, a white long-sleeve pajama shirt, and, of course, a navy bandana headband, because she had to have one. Even if she couldn't see it, I could tell by the smile on her face that she had done it just for me. I wanted to tell her just as good she looked, but I bit my tongue. The pants looked a little long for her, but the shirt fit well.
“Bestie!” she ran to me and grabbed me in a hug.
“Sis!” I similarly embraced her.
I held her for a long time even after she was ready to let go of me. When I was with Jenny, for some reason I felt comfortable and safe and like I could be me more than with my other friends. Here, I never felt antagonized despite being agnostic at this time while Jenny was so open about her religious inclinations that she was ridiculed in school for it. She always openly wished that I would give her view on life more thought, but she never pushed or bullied me at all nor I her.
“You feel sad,” Jenny spoke sweetly, “I hope your mother from another sister helped!”
“She did. What’s up with the blue?” I finally released her.
“It’s the theme of the year!” she bounced a little, “Maybe a new tradition in this house!”
“Let me get my pajamas on because I can smell the pie,” I started to walk toward the bedroom.
“Don’t go so quickly!” Jenny pulled me back, “It’s already ready to eat! Don’t let it get warm!”
“All right, all right.”
I surrendered to the combined wills of Jenny and her mother just as Dad came in from the garage after apparently spending some time fixing one of the dining chairs. Mom put the pie down and cut into our first Christmas before Christmas treat. Even on a night like this, Mom’s homemade chocolate cream pie was divine and warmed my heart more than you could ever believe. Along with that, we enjoyed warm cups of homemade caramel hot chocolate that Jenny had prepared. I hadn’t enjoyed Christmas this much in so long.
As soon as the dessert was done, Jenny pulled me over to the fireplace and made me sit and keep warm while listening to her talk about her day. I didn’t have much to say except talking about what Joy and I did at work, but to her it was absolutely enthralling despite seeming so dull to me. I hadn’t yet realized that aspect of genuine friendship.
“Mom’s done!” Jenny didn’t give me an inch, “We can unwrap the presents.”
“But which ones?” the energy overwhelmed me.
“Well, the blue ones, silly! Like you don’t know!”
I stared at the presents under the tree while hearing my biological father’s voice echo inside my head You dumb wh-re! Why did you waste so much money on the girl when she’s just like her sh-tty older sister?! and my mother’s response Gordy, she’s better than any of the boys; she is a good girl and keeps good company! followed by… I wonder if those clothes were warmer than what I have? Few moments are blotted from my memory, but that is one of them.
“Don’t sit there. Go ahead! Grab them!” Mr. Lars Kristensen encouraged me.
“Sorry. Yes, Dad,” I responded dutifully because I was obeying him out of love.
Grabbing the breakfasts was foreign to me. Last time I had been allowed to do as much was at least 9 years before. Come to think of it, my older sister and I were getting beaten even then, but it never became obviously spiteful or on account of our girlhood until after Claire no longer lived at home. I have digressed again because I was getting overwhelmed by the emotions.
“Here you go, Jenny,” I finally focused.
“About time. You keep daydreaming,” Jenny was blissfully unaware of my internal struggle.
“Yeah, I do,” I awkwardly passed the presents to her one at a time without reading any.
“I guess you never do this at home,” her perpetual grin made me a little sick.
“You can say that again.”
“I guess you never do this at home.”
I turned to ream her one, but that playful smile was there and made me relax. I forgot about the normal world where people could tell jokes and such comments had no malicious intent behind them. I looked down at the presents she had passed back to me and choked down my desire to burst into hysterical tears. That day had to wait until we were in college.
I now understood why Jenny so badly wanted me to not change into pajamas. The exact same set as the one she wore, only with the colors being icy blue and black, were in one of the little packages! I knew what I was putting on after this! The number of times I said “Thank you” for that alone was clearly a bit much because Mom had to ask me to calm down; suddenly, I was the bouncy energetic one! The next package had regular clothes, of course blue sweats!
The last package, which Jenny entreatied me to open last, was the tearjerker of the lot. Inside it was a small heart-shaped piece of silver jewelry. In it was space for four pictures, and one spot was empty while the other contained the picture of me and Jenny standing by the fireplace from just earlier in the month. Of course I burst into tears. Even if Jenny didn’t know the details like Mom did, she understood that I was somehow suffering.
Jenny’s hugs always warmed my heart, but this one was unforgettable. When I think of Jenny, it is always this night I remember most strongly. We were each other’s escape from pain–me from my family and her from her brother’s death–and now had become like David and Jonathan, such good friends as to die for the other to live and do so without any hesitation.
“Why is there a blank?” I asked between chokes of tears.
“For someday when you’re married to a man you love,” Jenny in a calm and meaningful tone.
“You picked this out, didn’t you?”
“It was Mom’s idea, but I picked it out and the photo.”
“You picked a good one,” I put the locket on with pride, “Thank you, all of you, so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Dad said in a way that gave me goosebumps and made me smile despite the tears still rolling down my cheeks.
Two years later I would return the favor. I had no idea a third Christmas awaited me after normal Christmas had passed. But that’s another family.
Grabbing the pajamas, I sprang up and went into the bathroom. I couldn’t wait to put on the new pajamas especially since Jenny was wearing blue and we wouldn’t match! Jenny in blue! I just knew I was going to kidnap her when we went to bed because she had intruded on my territory as the Gangsta Queen of the then very exclusive (and still just as precious) Cool Girls’ Club. I had to assert myself as the one and only bluelight special; to be clear I am joking and this is all just an excuse to put my favorite girl in her favorite position.
I had to wait patiently. That was easy to do. Once Mom and Dad went to bed, I would be free to put my captive in ropes. I cannot deny that she looked absolutely adorable in the colors she wore but also add that she couldn’t appreciate them as well as I could. Jenny is deprived of the best of all the colors. I pounced just as she exited the bathroom.
“Sis, I was thinking we could mmph!” she said just before I grabbed her in a tight hold.
“You stole my color, and now I steal you!” I whispered in her ear with a giggle.
Jenny was, despite working on her own car and doing daily workouts and such, naturally weak and unable to resist me. I mashed her face against my bed’s blue pillows and sat on her back so I could bind her arms behind her back. Of course, she wriggled her face out while I tied her wrists and elbows with my cozy white rope.
“Let me go!” she squeaked in her typical defiant manner.
“That’s not going to work, Jenny. I love you too much to just let you go.”
“Then hate me for 5 minutes and untie me!” her legs kicked out a good deal.
“Stop it!” I did it again… I spanked her.
“Heeeeyyyyyyy! Not nice!” her tone said she liked it though.
“Then be a submissive rope bunny.”
Of course Jenny wouldn’t submit; she didn’t have a submissive cell in her body. She fought and squirmed the entire time I was tying her up, and the more she fought the more tightly I tied her. I bound every spot I could so that I ran out of my rope. Four bonds on her arms, four on her lower legs, three on her upper legs, and bonds for her waist and breasts were one part, and zip ties for her big toes were the other part.
Jenny had no braid to swish about since she had only put the headband on without her usual do. It was to my advantage since she could throw that braid with quite a surprising amount of force for her small size. Her squirming decreased with each bond, but she continued to fight like her life was at stake. She grunted, squealed, squeaked, and threatened; all of this was done in sotto voce to not get her parents’ attention.
“Nichole Blakely, UGH! Let me go!”
“I’ve been kidnapped by my best friend! Someone help me!”
“That’s so tight! No!”
“If I escape, I’ll make you sleep tied up in the closet!”
Following another friend’s advice, I stuffed one sock in another and tied a white bandana around the outer sock. I jammed that wad in Jenny’s mouth and knotted it tightly under her hair. Clear tape seemed the right choice this time, and I wrapped her face in 8 layers of said material to keep her really quiet. Jenny squealed with dismay, but she couldn’t stop me from taking triumphant photos and videos of her capture. Now, I had the best present of the night at my disposal.
“Here goes nothing!”
“Nmmmmm! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!”
Yes, I was tickling Jenny. Who doesn’t want to tickle her? She moves around the most, meaning your tickling gives visual results; she yells angrily the entire time, giving you the satisfaction of a deep tissue torture; she’s energetic, tiring you out before she’s tired. It’s nearly impossible for the captor to have more fun than her so long as you don’t violate any of her boundaries.
The thick gag muffled her in a very satisfying way that you would have to hear for yourself just to appreciate how pleasant of a captive she is despite her attitude. I know that sounds backward, but it’s how reality works. The feistier Jenny is the one that leaves you with a bigger smile on your face at the end of the day.
Jenny indeed had energy left to be tickled more even after I was tuckered out. She suffered all of the stages of tickling from laughter to pain without quitting. I saw the same defiant spirit in her eyes at the end of the tickling, and I laughed along with her much of the time. My fingers tickled her feet, ribs, and belly during this time, and I had been nice enough to spare her that sensitive spot in her armpits as a show of gratitude for this wonderful early Christmas.
One of my favorite forms of communicating during a game is attempting to enunciate my words clearly enough to be understood through the gag. Jenny, on the other hand, was talking with her eyes. She shot daggers with her eyes; she pleaded for mercy with her eyes; she did all but call for help with her eyes; the latter didn’t matter since no one could hear her anyway. Fortunately, she could leave it all behind for an intimate moment.
“Jenny, this has been one of the most memorable days ever,” I hugged her tightly from behind.
“Awwwww,” she said as best as she could.
“Thank you for tonight, and I am looking forward to more friendship in the years to come.”
“Mm mmm mm mmm mm mmmm!”
“I am not pretending to have understood that!” I laughed at her gag talk.
“Mmmm mm mmmmmm!”
I slowly unfurled the blankets on the bed and tucked Jenny into it. Not wanting to risk too much, I removed the tape from her gag first and then decided to just ungag Jenny altogether. We frequently during such moments would sleep while gagged, but I wanted to talk while we sat in the darkness. I put the wad aside just in case I decided to gag her again. As I climbed into bed, I paused to put my hand on the friendship locket around my neck not knowing that just a few years from then I would have that other spot filled with a photo of me giving my husband a big kiss on the cheek.
Jenny settled into her spot nicely. Just as no one had Jenny’s spunk in TUGs, no one could get comfortable while tied up as easily as she could. She stared at me the way a child gazes at an older sibling who has earned their love. I sat up where I lay and admired her in her rare display of navy clothing and was pleased with how she looked better than me in my favorite color which was her least favorite because she couldn't truly appreciate it.
“This is so cozy,” Jenny didn't squirm at all.
“You're so cute,” I took another photo of her.
“That or you have the hots for me!” she teased me.
“None!” I laughed, “Just friends who make each other's lives more meaningful than they would be without.”
“Merry Christmas, Nichole.”
“Merry Christmas, Jenny.”
Merry Christmas
Next: Wheelchairs Can’t Stop Me!
Remember me and my awesome white t-shirt and white paisley bandana that my friend Jenny turned into a blue tie-dye t-shirt and bandana? It's me, the Bluelight Special, and I am back for a very special adventure.
I was dressed like I typically am: in blue. It's Minnesota, and it's so freaking cold here. My icy blue sweatpants and long sleeve t-shirt were my base. Over the t-shirt was my new blue tie-dye, and I had the matching bandana on my head as a kerchief. My feet were shod in my usual black canvas sneakers and white crew socks.
Mom and I were talking about Christmas. I mean my biological mother. It was our usual low whisper that allowed us to talk so long as her husband wasn't drunk. It was a danger nevertheless because the other men were just as bad. I was telling her that I was spending the night, Dec. 23, with a friend, which was more than I normally told her when my brother, two years my junior and a football player, walked into the room just as Mom left.
“What are you talking about?” he pushed me against the wall.
“Stuff. Maybe your Christmas present.”
“Tell me what it is,” he touched me inappropriately.
“I’m not telling,” I thought I had the cards for once.
“Tell me!” he punched me in the left arm, and I almost doubled over.
“A f-cking steel rod to ram up your a-s!” I gave him a nut shot.
I took off like a bat out of hell. My things were ready to go, and I skipped the hoodie. I knew I would get beaten, probably tied up and fondled, when I got home, so long as my biological father was in the mood to pulverize me. I didn't care. I ran to my car, jumped in, and drove off without my seatbelt yet secured. My heart rate was at least a thousand at that moment. From that day on, I spent more nights at friend's houses than I did at my own house.
I drove all the way to the local Meijer before going to Jenny’s house. No chances were taken. Call it what you will, but I didn't trust any of them except my bio mom, and even she was trusted with a watchful eye. One of these days, I figured, one of them will mutilate me for real. That's the thought I used to keep myself warm and cozy as I drove to Jenny’s house without having time to even grab my coat on a night where the temperature was supposed to drop below 0 Fahrenheit. Once I arrived there, I checked all directions as I walked up to the front door and let myself into the familiar home.
“Hi, Nichole. Jenny’s in the shower,” I was greeted by Mrs. Emily Kristensen.
“Oh, hi, Mom,” I could tell by the look on her face that my eyes were as wide as a deer’s.
“What happened this time?” she asked me with deep heartfelt concern.
“Oh, just my brother,” I rolled my eyes and held my dominant arm where he punched me.
“Are you all right?” she watched my hands moving about my body and betraying what kinds of contact had occurred,
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, but my face and body language said otherwise, “He touched me.”
I sat down on one of the dining room chairs and let her put her arm around me in the way only a mother can. She took a chair and sat with me; I didn't realize I was crying until she was dabbing my eyes with a tissue. I looked towards the fireplace mantle and its greenery and blue Christmas lights, and then I turned towards the Christmas tree. Now, I noticed two or three packages under there had blue paper with white accents instead of the red paper that the others had, and a couple of others had the same paper with the colors inverted.
How was it to see the world without blue like Jenny did? What was it like to not only not have the capability to see the world with what I thought was the prettiest color but to have never had it in the first place. I can't forget standing there while Jenny and her father painted her car the beautiful metallic blue that it is and hearing her complain that she was going to have a yellow car before her father realized what he had done. We all shared that laugh, but then Jenny absolutely surprised me when she stepped out of the bathroom.
Navy blue on Jenny was a shock. Navy and white plaid fleece pajama pants, blue socks, a white long-sleeve pajama shirt, and, of course, a navy bandana headband, because she had to have one. Even if she couldn't see it, I could tell by the smile on her face that she had done it just for me. I wanted to tell her just as good she looked, but I bit my tongue. The pants looked a little long for her, but the shirt fit well.
“Bestie!” she ran to me and grabbed me in a hug.
“Sis!” I similarly embraced her.
I held her for a long time even after she was ready to let go of me. When I was with Jenny, for some reason I felt comfortable and safe and like I could be me more than with my other friends. Here, I never felt antagonized despite being agnostic at this time while Jenny was so open about her religious inclinations that she was ridiculed in school for it. She always openly wished that I would give her view on life more thought, but she never pushed or bullied me at all nor I her.
“You feel sad,” Jenny spoke sweetly, “I hope your mother from another sister helped!”
“She did. What’s up with the blue?” I finally released her.
“It’s the theme of the year!” she bounced a little, “Maybe a new tradition in this house!”
“Let me get my pajamas on because I can smell the pie,” I started to walk toward the bedroom.
“Don’t go so quickly!” Jenny pulled me back, “It’s already ready to eat! Don’t let it get warm!”
“All right, all right.”
I surrendered to the combined wills of Jenny and her mother just as Dad came in from the garage after apparently spending some time fixing one of the dining chairs. Mom put the pie down and cut into our first Christmas before Christmas treat. Even on a night like this, Mom’s homemade chocolate cream pie was divine and warmed my heart more than you could ever believe. Along with that, we enjoyed warm cups of homemade caramel hot chocolate that Jenny had prepared. I hadn’t enjoyed Christmas this much in so long.
As soon as the dessert was done, Jenny pulled me over to the fireplace and made me sit and keep warm while listening to her talk about her day. I didn’t have much to say except talking about what Joy and I did at work, but to her it was absolutely enthralling despite seeming so dull to me. I hadn’t yet realized that aspect of genuine friendship.
“Mom’s done!” Jenny didn’t give me an inch, “We can unwrap the presents.”
“But which ones?” the energy overwhelmed me.
“Well, the blue ones, silly! Like you don’t know!”
I stared at the presents under the tree while hearing my biological father’s voice echo inside my head You dumb wh-re! Why did you waste so much money on the girl when she’s just like her sh-tty older sister?! and my mother’s response Gordy, she’s better than any of the boys; she is a good girl and keeps good company! followed by… I wonder if those clothes were warmer than what I have? Few moments are blotted from my memory, but that is one of them.
“Don’t sit there. Go ahead! Grab them!” Mr. Lars Kristensen encouraged me.
“Sorry. Yes, Dad,” I responded dutifully because I was obeying him out of love.
Grabbing the breakfasts was foreign to me. Last time I had been allowed to do as much was at least 9 years before. Come to think of it, my older sister and I were getting beaten even then, but it never became obviously spiteful or on account of our girlhood until after Claire no longer lived at home. I have digressed again because I was getting overwhelmed by the emotions.
“Here you go, Jenny,” I finally focused.
“About time. You keep daydreaming,” Jenny was blissfully unaware of my internal struggle.
“Yeah, I do,” I awkwardly passed the presents to her one at a time without reading any.
“I guess you never do this at home,” her perpetual grin made me a little sick.
“You can say that again.”
“I guess you never do this at home.”
I turned to ream her one, but that playful smile was there and made me relax. I forgot about the normal world where people could tell jokes and such comments had no malicious intent behind them. I looked down at the presents she had passed back to me and choked down my desire to burst into hysterical tears. That day had to wait until we were in college.
I now understood why Jenny so badly wanted me to not change into pajamas. The exact same set as the one she wore, only with the colors being icy blue and black, were in one of the little packages! I knew what I was putting on after this! The number of times I said “Thank you” for that alone was clearly a bit much because Mom had to ask me to calm down; suddenly, I was the bouncy energetic one! The next package had regular clothes, of course blue sweats!
The last package, which Jenny entreatied me to open last, was the tearjerker of the lot. Inside it was a small heart-shaped piece of silver jewelry. In it was space for four pictures, and one spot was empty while the other contained the picture of me and Jenny standing by the fireplace from just earlier in the month. Of course I burst into tears. Even if Jenny didn’t know the details like Mom did, she understood that I was somehow suffering.
Jenny’s hugs always warmed my heart, but this one was unforgettable. When I think of Jenny, it is always this night I remember most strongly. We were each other’s escape from pain–me from my family and her from her brother’s death–and now had become like David and Jonathan, such good friends as to die for the other to live and do so without any hesitation.
“Why is there a blank?” I asked between chokes of tears.
“For someday when you’re married to a man you love,” Jenny in a calm and meaningful tone.
“You picked this out, didn’t you?”
“It was Mom’s idea, but I picked it out and the photo.”
“You picked a good one,” I put the locket on with pride, “Thank you, all of you, so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Dad said in a way that gave me goosebumps and made me smile despite the tears still rolling down my cheeks.
Two years later I would return the favor. I had no idea a third Christmas awaited me after normal Christmas had passed. But that’s another family.
Grabbing the pajamas, I sprang up and went into the bathroom. I couldn’t wait to put on the new pajamas especially since Jenny was wearing blue and we wouldn’t match! Jenny in blue! I just knew I was going to kidnap her when we went to bed because she had intruded on my territory as the Gangsta Queen of the then very exclusive (and still just as precious) Cool Girls’ Club. I had to assert myself as the one and only bluelight special; to be clear I am joking and this is all just an excuse to put my favorite girl in her favorite position.
I had to wait patiently. That was easy to do. Once Mom and Dad went to bed, I would be free to put my captive in ropes. I cannot deny that she looked absolutely adorable in the colors she wore but also add that she couldn’t appreciate them as well as I could. Jenny is deprived of the best of all the colors. I pounced just as she exited the bathroom.
“Sis, I was thinking we could mmph!” she said just before I grabbed her in a tight hold.
“You stole my color, and now I steal you!” I whispered in her ear with a giggle.
Jenny was, despite working on her own car and doing daily workouts and such, naturally weak and unable to resist me. I mashed her face against my bed’s blue pillows and sat on her back so I could bind her arms behind her back. Of course, she wriggled her face out while I tied her wrists and elbows with my cozy white rope.
“Let me go!” she squeaked in her typical defiant manner.
“That’s not going to work, Jenny. I love you too much to just let you go.”
“Then hate me for 5 minutes and untie me!” her legs kicked out a good deal.
“Stop it!” I did it again… I spanked her.
“Heeeeyyyyyyy! Not nice!” her tone said she liked it though.
“Then be a submissive rope bunny.”
Of course Jenny wouldn’t submit; she didn’t have a submissive cell in her body. She fought and squirmed the entire time I was tying her up, and the more she fought the more tightly I tied her. I bound every spot I could so that I ran out of my rope. Four bonds on her arms, four on her lower legs, three on her upper legs, and bonds for her waist and breasts were one part, and zip ties for her big toes were the other part.
Jenny had no braid to swish about since she had only put the headband on without her usual do. It was to my advantage since she could throw that braid with quite a surprising amount of force for her small size. Her squirming decreased with each bond, but she continued to fight like her life was at stake. She grunted, squealed, squeaked, and threatened; all of this was done in sotto voce to not get her parents’ attention.
“Nichole Blakely, UGH! Let me go!”
“I’ve been kidnapped by my best friend! Someone help me!”
“That’s so tight! No!”
“If I escape, I’ll make you sleep tied up in the closet!”
Following another friend’s advice, I stuffed one sock in another and tied a white bandana around the outer sock. I jammed that wad in Jenny’s mouth and knotted it tightly under her hair. Clear tape seemed the right choice this time, and I wrapped her face in 8 layers of said material to keep her really quiet. Jenny squealed with dismay, but she couldn’t stop me from taking triumphant photos and videos of her capture. Now, I had the best present of the night at my disposal.
“Here goes nothing!”
“Nmmmmm! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!”
Yes, I was tickling Jenny. Who doesn’t want to tickle her? She moves around the most, meaning your tickling gives visual results; she yells angrily the entire time, giving you the satisfaction of a deep tissue torture; she’s energetic, tiring you out before she’s tired. It’s nearly impossible for the captor to have more fun than her so long as you don’t violate any of her boundaries.
The thick gag muffled her in a very satisfying way that you would have to hear for yourself just to appreciate how pleasant of a captive she is despite her attitude. I know that sounds backward, but it’s how reality works. The feistier Jenny is the one that leaves you with a bigger smile on your face at the end of the day.
Jenny indeed had energy left to be tickled more even after I was tuckered out. She suffered all of the stages of tickling from laughter to pain without quitting. I saw the same defiant spirit in her eyes at the end of the tickling, and I laughed along with her much of the time. My fingers tickled her feet, ribs, and belly during this time, and I had been nice enough to spare her that sensitive spot in her armpits as a show of gratitude for this wonderful early Christmas.
One of my favorite forms of communicating during a game is attempting to enunciate my words clearly enough to be understood through the gag. Jenny, on the other hand, was talking with her eyes. She shot daggers with her eyes; she pleaded for mercy with her eyes; she did all but call for help with her eyes; the latter didn’t matter since no one could hear her anyway. Fortunately, she could leave it all behind for an intimate moment.
“Jenny, this has been one of the most memorable days ever,” I hugged her tightly from behind.
“Awwwww,” she said as best as she could.
“Thank you for tonight, and I am looking forward to more friendship in the years to come.”
“Mm mmm mm mmm mm mmmm!”
“I am not pretending to have understood that!” I laughed at her gag talk.
“Mmmm mm mmmmmm!”
I slowly unfurled the blankets on the bed and tucked Jenny into it. Not wanting to risk too much, I removed the tape from her gag first and then decided to just ungag Jenny altogether. We frequently during such moments would sleep while gagged, but I wanted to talk while we sat in the darkness. I put the wad aside just in case I decided to gag her again. As I climbed into bed, I paused to put my hand on the friendship locket around my neck not knowing that just a few years from then I would have that other spot filled with a photo of me giving my husband a big kiss on the cheek.
Jenny settled into her spot nicely. Just as no one had Jenny’s spunk in TUGs, no one could get comfortable while tied up as easily as she could. She stared at me the way a child gazes at an older sibling who has earned their love. I sat up where I lay and admired her in her rare display of navy clothing and was pleased with how she looked better than me in my favorite color which was her least favorite because she couldn't truly appreciate it.
“This is so cozy,” Jenny didn't squirm at all.
“You're so cute,” I took another photo of her.
“That or you have the hots for me!” she teased me.
“None!” I laughed, “Just friends who make each other's lives more meaningful than they would be without.”
“Merry Christmas, Nichole.”
“Merry Christmas, Jenny.”
Merry Christmas
Next: Wheelchairs Can’t Stop Me!
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
We'll see if this is the last "short story" before Christmas or not. 
Wheelchairs Can’t Stop Me! (FF/f)
Senior year of high school, just a couple of days after Evangeline Rondell’s big Monopoly adventure, saw the girl’s hopes of paying for college off volleyball vanish. She was playing with some of her friends, including her cousin Olivia to stay in shape when she jumped to spike the ball. And then she felt the most horrible sound she had ever heard: the joint snapping of her PCL and her LCL. It was the first time Eva screamed from pain, so Olivia knew it was serious, and to make matters worse she had injured both legs.
Thankfully, with help, Olivia was able to get the stocky strong girl to the car and to the hospital where her ligaments had to be reconstructed the next morning. The day after, just six days before Christmas, Eva was home again… with a wheelchair! Stubborn Eva did not want people waiting on her hand and foot, and she was still making her planned Christmas goodies.
Eva was the biggest and youngest among herself, her sister, and her cousin. Being powerless and in a wheelchair felt wrong in various ways, but perhaps the most bizarre was in finding herself at a height deficit. To do it all like she usually did required a big dose of humility; Eva knew not any humility.
“All right… We’re going to make this work. Olivia, Caleigh, you’ll have to either be my slaves or be my helpers,” Eva spoke hopefully.
“What's the difference?” Olivia scratched her head.
“I either have the boys tie you, gag you, and tickle you into submission and you work with gags locked in your mouths, or we cooperate like loving siblings and cousins!”
“Helpers. We're helpers.”
“That's the spirit, Miss Whipple,” smiled the snarky French girl, “I love volunteers!”
“She's such a mule,” groaned Olivia.
The next three days saw batch after batch of cookies go into the well utilized double oven, and there were times that all six racks were in use! Eva had the mixer on a chair and would rule the roost of making the cookie doughs with the help of her sibling and cousin. She'd roll them out or shape them while sitting in the wheelchair at the table, and she got them through the cooking process with the help of Olivia.
Injuries didn't stop Eva’s old-fashioned style… a lightweight forest green skirt, a tan long-sleeve t-shirt, and a milk chocolate brown kerchief bandana was her outfit with her hair in two ornate split braids that had been lovingly crafted by Caleigh. The big volleyball player may have been physically hurt, but her spirit was as strong as ever.
Eva’s continued happiness was disgusting to Caleigh. How could her little sister hum Christmas carols while nursing such a mutilated body? Caleigh knew she would just sit in the corner with ice packs on it all day long and bemoan her bad luck. Olivia had to be right: Eva squeezed her brains out of her head from wearing her bandanas too tightly.
“Your sister is driving me crazy! We don't need 12 different kinds of cookies!”
“Keep being patient, Liv,” Caleigh said since she and Olivia were alone, “I was crazy to start with.”
“Why? Is there a payoff?”
“Big one. We're going to tie her to the wheelchair,” smiled the shorter, older girl,
“Ummmmm,” Olivia paused in thought, “Got it.”
“It's worth the work for the reward. Don't forget the four kinds of pie too!”
Caleigh was supposed to be the responsible one. That didn't mean she couldn't be the mischievous one though! Her promise would be fulfilled, but they owed Eva their attention as well. Even when Eva was healthy, Caleigh was her right-hand woman in the Christmas kitchen. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Caleigh savored the time with her little sister. Rondell Christmas was an incredible time.
“Pull those out, Caleigh. Olivia, open this door… Hmmm… Two more minutes.”
“You will make an incredible housewife someday,” Caleigh remarked.
“Girl, I don't think so,” Eva shot that comment down..
“Why? Because you want to be in the army?”
“That, and my attitude. Come on, Cay, move those to the rack! Get a move on, Liv!”
“I’m trying. I just have no kitchen talent,” Caleigh insulted herself.
Now that the last batch of cookies was done, Eva was ready to relax. Those had to cool, but she wasn't worried as any of them could be trusted to put them in a container once they were cool enough. She wheeled her chair towards the living room and was just happy that she had been able to do the things she likes to do.
Caleigh casually disappeared in one direction and Olivia in another. They had their own ideas of having fun with this situation, and neither realized that the respective ideas would mix without complications. Caleigh grabbed her bag of TUG toys, and Olivia grabbed a couple spare strands of Christmas lights.
When they returned, Caleigh flashed the zipties, necessary for a quick kidnapping of the chef, Duct tape, in this case, would ruin the chair. As the stronger of the two, the cowgirl had to be the one who would hold Eva in place while Caleigh tied her down. Just because Eva had had reconstruction surgery on her knees didn't mean she could not have fun.
“Eva, let's relax and play a game,” Olivia said while walking up to Eva from behind.
“Ooh, watcha have in mind?” the injured one spun around and saw her nabbers.
“Kidnap the helpless girl!” Olivia crushed her against the chair.
“Cay, Liv, I’ll wreck you both when I get the chance!” whined the victim, but Caleigh was kidnapping her too!
“You deserve to have TUG fun still,” Caleigh zipped her elbows into the corner.
“Mmmmm!” was the response under the hand gag.
Once the elbows were secured with the thick zips, the rest was easy. Eva’s wrists and shoulders were also thick zipped to the chair, and her forearms were secured with thin zips. Her ankles and lower legs were similarly bound to the leg rests, and her heavily bandaged knees were skipped. Belts above and below her breasts secured her torso to the chair back. Olivia removed Eva’s brown socks from her feet.
“Oh, darn you two twisted little freaks!” Eva started sweating when she saw the socks.
“Open up!” Caleigh pinched her nose and held her head.
“UGH!” the socks entered her mouth, “Ewwww!”
“Sorry, not sorry,” Olivia wrapped her face in 7 layers of duct tape.
“You wanted to wrap her in these lights?”
“Yeah, they're LED so they won't burn her!”
Eva grunted into the gag and got nothing intelligible out. Blasted crew socks! If she had been wearing ankle socks, she'd have retained the ability to be loud and possibly intelligible as well. She shrieked a little and tried to shake the chair, but there was very little she could do without causing herself further injury.
The wheels on the chair were locked, and the strand began winding around both the chair and her body. She wanted to watch, but Caleigh pulled one of the evil knit hoods over her head. The hood was long enough to come to the neck and deliberately knit very tightly and included a strap to tighten it around the neck so it couldn't be removed.
“That should keep her happy for a while,” Caleigh laughed.
“Keep her submissive while we turn her into a Christmas decoration.”
“Don't worry,” Caleigh patted her sister on the head, “The hood will come off later.”
“Mmmmmm!” Eva groaned a little.
“She’s quiet,” Olivia observed.
“She knows when she’s been licked.”
Around the chair the lights were wrapped and wrapped. The lights continued to wind around the chair, but that meant winding around Eva’s legs and arms and torso! She felt the cold, probably green, wire against her skin, and occasionally a light gently poked her. Soon, the hood came off, and a red-faced Eva surveyed her Christmas bondage.
“Now, this will certainly survive the YouTube censorship!” Caleigh took a picture first.
“Mmmm!” Eva groaned and looked around herself.
“She is cute like this,” Olivia agreed.
“And now we get the rest of the day off… And it’s only 3 o’clock! No more badgering!”
“Mmmmm!” Eva’s mind went to her pies.
“Forget whatever you’re thinking,” Olivia ordered her, “We all need a break!”
Olivia pulled the hood back over Eva’s head, and she and Caleigh the captive there to be a human Christmas decoration for the boys to laugh at. When did eau de toe become so fashionable, anyway? Eva groaned just from the gross taste of her own feet. After so much stress, she did need a break
It was such a simple and fun time indeed.
Wheelchairs Can’t Stop Me! (FF/f)
Senior year of high school, just a couple of days after Evangeline Rondell’s big Monopoly adventure, saw the girl’s hopes of paying for college off volleyball vanish. She was playing with some of her friends, including her cousin Olivia to stay in shape when she jumped to spike the ball. And then she felt the most horrible sound she had ever heard: the joint snapping of her PCL and her LCL. It was the first time Eva screamed from pain, so Olivia knew it was serious, and to make matters worse she had injured both legs.
Thankfully, with help, Olivia was able to get the stocky strong girl to the car and to the hospital where her ligaments had to be reconstructed the next morning. The day after, just six days before Christmas, Eva was home again… with a wheelchair! Stubborn Eva did not want people waiting on her hand and foot, and she was still making her planned Christmas goodies.
Eva was the biggest and youngest among herself, her sister, and her cousin. Being powerless and in a wheelchair felt wrong in various ways, but perhaps the most bizarre was in finding herself at a height deficit. To do it all like she usually did required a big dose of humility; Eva knew not any humility.
“All right… We’re going to make this work. Olivia, Caleigh, you’ll have to either be my slaves or be my helpers,” Eva spoke hopefully.
“What's the difference?” Olivia scratched her head.
“I either have the boys tie you, gag you, and tickle you into submission and you work with gags locked in your mouths, or we cooperate like loving siblings and cousins!”
“Helpers. We're helpers.”
“That's the spirit, Miss Whipple,” smiled the snarky French girl, “I love volunteers!”
“She's such a mule,” groaned Olivia.
The next three days saw batch after batch of cookies go into the well utilized double oven, and there were times that all six racks were in use! Eva had the mixer on a chair and would rule the roost of making the cookie doughs with the help of her sibling and cousin. She'd roll them out or shape them while sitting in the wheelchair at the table, and she got them through the cooking process with the help of Olivia.
Injuries didn't stop Eva’s old-fashioned style… a lightweight forest green skirt, a tan long-sleeve t-shirt, and a milk chocolate brown kerchief bandana was her outfit with her hair in two ornate split braids that had been lovingly crafted by Caleigh. The big volleyball player may have been physically hurt, but her spirit was as strong as ever.
Eva’s continued happiness was disgusting to Caleigh. How could her little sister hum Christmas carols while nursing such a mutilated body? Caleigh knew she would just sit in the corner with ice packs on it all day long and bemoan her bad luck. Olivia had to be right: Eva squeezed her brains out of her head from wearing her bandanas too tightly.
“Your sister is driving me crazy! We don't need 12 different kinds of cookies!”
“Keep being patient, Liv,” Caleigh said since she and Olivia were alone, “I was crazy to start with.”
“Why? Is there a payoff?”
“Big one. We're going to tie her to the wheelchair,” smiled the shorter, older girl,
“Ummmmm,” Olivia paused in thought, “Got it.”
“It's worth the work for the reward. Don't forget the four kinds of pie too!”
Caleigh was supposed to be the responsible one. That didn't mean she couldn't be the mischievous one though! Her promise would be fulfilled, but they owed Eva their attention as well. Even when Eva was healthy, Caleigh was her right-hand woman in the Christmas kitchen. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Caleigh savored the time with her little sister. Rondell Christmas was an incredible time.
“Pull those out, Caleigh. Olivia, open this door… Hmmm… Two more minutes.”
“You will make an incredible housewife someday,” Caleigh remarked.
“Girl, I don't think so,” Eva shot that comment down..
“Why? Because you want to be in the army?”
“That, and my attitude. Come on, Cay, move those to the rack! Get a move on, Liv!”
“I’m trying. I just have no kitchen talent,” Caleigh insulted herself.
Now that the last batch of cookies was done, Eva was ready to relax. Those had to cool, but she wasn't worried as any of them could be trusted to put them in a container once they were cool enough. She wheeled her chair towards the living room and was just happy that she had been able to do the things she likes to do.
Caleigh casually disappeared in one direction and Olivia in another. They had their own ideas of having fun with this situation, and neither realized that the respective ideas would mix without complications. Caleigh grabbed her bag of TUG toys, and Olivia grabbed a couple spare strands of Christmas lights.
When they returned, Caleigh flashed the zipties, necessary for a quick kidnapping of the chef, Duct tape, in this case, would ruin the chair. As the stronger of the two, the cowgirl had to be the one who would hold Eva in place while Caleigh tied her down. Just because Eva had had reconstruction surgery on her knees didn't mean she could not have fun.
“Eva, let's relax and play a game,” Olivia said while walking up to Eva from behind.
“Ooh, watcha have in mind?” the injured one spun around and saw her nabbers.
“Kidnap the helpless girl!” Olivia crushed her against the chair.
“Cay, Liv, I’ll wreck you both when I get the chance!” whined the victim, but Caleigh was kidnapping her too!
“You deserve to have TUG fun still,” Caleigh zipped her elbows into the corner.
“Mmmmm!” was the response under the hand gag.
Once the elbows were secured with the thick zips, the rest was easy. Eva’s wrists and shoulders were also thick zipped to the chair, and her forearms were secured with thin zips. Her ankles and lower legs were similarly bound to the leg rests, and her heavily bandaged knees were skipped. Belts above and below her breasts secured her torso to the chair back. Olivia removed Eva’s brown socks from her feet.
“Oh, darn you two twisted little freaks!” Eva started sweating when she saw the socks.
“Open up!” Caleigh pinched her nose and held her head.
“UGH!” the socks entered her mouth, “Ewwww!”
“Sorry, not sorry,” Olivia wrapped her face in 7 layers of duct tape.
“You wanted to wrap her in these lights?”
“Yeah, they're LED so they won't burn her!”
Eva grunted into the gag and got nothing intelligible out. Blasted crew socks! If she had been wearing ankle socks, she'd have retained the ability to be loud and possibly intelligible as well. She shrieked a little and tried to shake the chair, but there was very little she could do without causing herself further injury.
The wheels on the chair were locked, and the strand began winding around both the chair and her body. She wanted to watch, but Caleigh pulled one of the evil knit hoods over her head. The hood was long enough to come to the neck and deliberately knit very tightly and included a strap to tighten it around the neck so it couldn't be removed.
“That should keep her happy for a while,” Caleigh laughed.
“Keep her submissive while we turn her into a Christmas decoration.”
“Don't worry,” Caleigh patted her sister on the head, “The hood will come off later.”
“Mmmmmm!” Eva groaned a little.
“She’s quiet,” Olivia observed.
“She knows when she’s been licked.”
Around the chair the lights were wrapped and wrapped. The lights continued to wind around the chair, but that meant winding around Eva’s legs and arms and torso! She felt the cold, probably green, wire against her skin, and occasionally a light gently poked her. Soon, the hood came off, and a red-faced Eva surveyed her Christmas bondage.
“Now, this will certainly survive the YouTube censorship!” Caleigh took a picture first.
“Mmmm!” Eva groaned and looked around herself.
“She is cute like this,” Olivia agreed.
“And now we get the rest of the day off… And it’s only 3 o’clock! No more badgering!”
“Mmmmm!” Eva’s mind went to her pies.
“Forget whatever you’re thinking,” Olivia ordered her, “We all need a break!”
Olivia pulled the hood back over Eva’s head, and she and Caleigh the captive there to be a human Christmas decoration for the boys to laugh at. When did eau de toe become so fashionable, anyway? Eva groaned just from the gross taste of her own feet. After so much stress, she did need a break
It was such a simple and fun time indeed.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 230
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
A nice little Christmas bondage 
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
Indeed it was!
My First and Last… Dirty Socks (ff/ff)
It was shortly after that very special Christmastime. First we had the bizarre reunification with Casey, then the stressful events in Nichole’s life, then Nichole’s three Christmases, and then this story that happened. I don’t exactly know why it all played out that way, but it did with me nearly losing my life as a result of it.
Back then, I wasn’t into modest dressing like I was later and am now although you would never see me in a tank-top unlike my friends. Today was a little nicer day, and I went for a slightly different approach because I didn’t like being limited to purple for CGC meet-ups. My bandana headband and my sweatpants were brown, and my t-shirt was pink for a Neapolitan ice cream appearance like Jenny sometimes wore.
Next to me on her own bicycle was a girl with whom I frequently traveled, especially when I was going to visit Jenny. Nichole Blakely was a special girl with her surprising worldview; for a girl who claimed to be agnostic she oftentimes overflowed with Christian virtues and mindsets even beyond those of her best friend Jenny, who was practically a missionary. Pretty as ever, Nichole wore navy blue sweatpants, an icy blue long-sleeve t-shirt, and a bright blue kerchief bandana as the perpetual “Gangsta Queen” of our club.
“Well, Queen, I’ve still got better wheeling than you, and I got my femur cracked!” I boasted.
“Yeah, girl, but keep that haughtiness about you, and Jenny, Case, and I will take you out.”
I was popping wheelies as we approached Jenny’s house, and I didn’t stop either. I wheeled with pride and with skill as I knew my limits well enough to not do anything where I would get hurt but at the same time I was trying to push Nichole’s buttons because she was such a graceful loser in all things. Most boastful of all was my personal plan to kidnap our dear Gangsta Queen when we got to the house, right there in the front yard, and bring her through the front door while she squealed helplessly in my arms.
We pulled our bikes in front of Jenny’s house and put our respective looks around not only those but also around the hubs of Jenny’s beautiful blue Mustang that was just crying for a damsel to be stowed in the backseat or trunk. Maybe I could convince Jenny to take Nichole for a trip to McDonald’s or Sonic while Nichole was trapped underneath the combined weight of Casey, me, and a couple of big quilts! Just as I was getting ready to grab her, Nichole opened the door to the house, and we were able to hear Casey asking Jenny a question I had never contemplated.
“So, if your middle name was changed to Danielle after your brother died, what was it before?”
“Michelle, believe it or not,” Jenny laughed, “Oh, look what the cat dragged in!”
“Is that how you greet me of all people?” Nichole crossed her arms in mock anger.
“Yes, it is,” Jenny put her hands on her hips, “Like you can stop me!”
“Is that a dare?” the bigger girl walked right up to her friend, “Because I’m daring.”
“I'm not afraid of any of you rats!” Jenny continued, “Dirtying up my home!”
“Not only am I taking you, but I’m gonna stuff your smug mouth with your dirty socks!”
Jenny was the odd one who wore pink athletic shorts with white trimming, a brown tank top, and a solid red bandana headband while her hair was in a beautiful braid that she secured in a series of scrunchies, red, brown, and neon green. An excitement overcame her face, and I saw that a carefree day lay ahead of us. Of course Jenny wanted to be the first one to get tied bound and gagged, as she always was that one. She sometimes would just suggest that, when her parents weren’t home, we should tie her up and play video games without her.
Nichole took her bag off her shoulders and strutted into the living room while the bag swung by her side. Like a glutton for punishment, because she is one, Jenny followed right behind Nichole all the way to the fireplace mantle. Jenny, I love you, but sometimes you’re too obvious in your TUG-suicidal ways and how you just beg to be kidnapped and or tied up. Nichole took a rope out of her bag, turned around, grabbed Jenny, spun the short runner 180 degrees, and gagged her with her hand.
“Mmmm!”
“That was nice and easy, sis. You didn't let me grab you, did you?”
“Nmmmm!” Jenny shook her head and squirmed.
“That's a naughty girl,” Nichole tightened her grip, “Time to tie you up!”
“Grmmm mmmm!” the captive winced when her face was mashed into the sofa.
“Time to tie up the insolent Jenny Danielle, formerly Michelle, Kristensen.”
Jenny couldn't pull her face out of the sofa because someone was holding her against the cushions. I got involved at this point and kept our dear Jenny down and gagged so that Nichole could tie her up with the rope. Of course, our beloved runner didn't know that it was me doing it, but I got a double thumbs up from the only other possibility, the nearly as dear Casey Clark.
My trust was damaged by what had happened with Casey two winters before this one and had never really recovered although I was willing to let her back into the club and to play games with her. Just because she was a good egg didn't mean I trust her not to suddenly go bad again and do something monstrous to me for a second time. Wasn't I supposed to keep vigilant against such things especially when I had been emotionally harmed by those events? I didn't go to school with her as long as Nichole and Jenny because I only moved to Mudville a few years back.
The girl now called the Gangsta Friend was strangely the tallest of us all despite being the weakest one. Not fearing gaudiness, Casey wore ripped blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a bright pink kerchief bandana that could be seen a mile away under a brand new moon. It was so loud but it was also such a cute outfit that I couldn't help but enjoy, and for the first time in my life I thought I was attracted to girls as well as boys. And I could say that with confidence having already lusted after and fooled around with a few of my male fellow high schoolers.
Nichole never left anything on the table when she tied up Jenny, and with Jenny she almost always preferred the rougher brown rope that left those beautiful marks when it dug into a person’s skin. Nothing was too good for Jenny, and the poor girl always found herself in something incredibly tight and uncomfortable. Jenny found her arms bound at her wrists and either side of her elbows; her thighs were tied in three places from her hips to her knees; her lower legs were tied in three places from her ankles to her knees. No good binding could be had without a brutal harness, and rope wound around her chest, between her arms and chest, and so forth until her boobs poked out quite nicely. Another rope wrapped around her arms and waist just below her belly button.
“Now I take these,” Nichole first pulled off Jenny's shoes and then her socks.
“I’ll tape her toes together,” Casey volunteered.
“Ready, Jenny?” I asked while Nichole readied the socks.
“Mmm!” she sputtered before I pulled her head up, “I’ll get revenge!”
“Whatever,” I took her head by the braid for leverage, “Eat it!”
“Owwwmmmmmm!”
“Yummy yummy good to eat,” Nichole teased.
A camouflage bandana cleave gag was the first layer and 9 layers of grey duct tape were the second layer. Casey had taped Jenny's toes, and I added a pink bandana to blindfold her. In the final act, Nichole hogtied the Lilliputian in the standard ankles to wrists manner; we were unaware of hair ties in those days because otherwise I can guarantee Jenny would have suffered them especially once we knew she liked them! Ignorance is bliss!
Nichole grabbed a blue bandana and masked herself with it so she had four shades of blue for her outfit. Selfies and a video followed, but Nichole didn't pull her mask off because instead she walked over to Casey who grabbed a black bandana from her own bag and masked herself with it. I gulped a little because I knew I had nowhere to go.
“What color? Grey, white, purple, brown, black, or pink?” I knew she refereed, in order, to duct tape, her own rope, my rope, somebody's rough rope, Casey’s rope, and Jenny's rope, in order.
“Ohhhhh, I prefer no color at all!” I smiled, instinctively clasped my hands my back, and kicked the floor with my feet.
“Then it's packing tape and zips,” Casey reached into her bag, “Nice and tight.”
“Oh, sh-t!” I said my first ever s-bomb.
“Come here, you dirty little thing!” Nichole charged after me.
“She needs a dirty sock gag too!” added the Gangsta Friend.
I just had to accept I was outnumbered and let my crossed wrists get clear taped behind my back before my torso was encased from my waist up to my neck. The thought of a dirty sock gag was revolting, but I wanted to try it. Along my legs, I would guess Casey used a dozen or more of the thin clear zips before removing my shoes and socks in order to zip tie my toes together. I was stuck and going nowhere and had to accept that I was now co-prisoner with the Gangsta Princess and that I was about to be gagged with my dirty socks although I was sure that Jenny’s socks were much more disgusting because of her morning run.
“Grmmmm!” I ingested my first ever dirty laundry gag.
I don't really know, to this day, what exactly happened. Just as Nichole was tying a purple bandana as a cleave gag to hold the socks in my mouth, a sudden saltiness came over my mouth followed by a pain in my stomach. Then, I burst, with vomit expelling into my mouth, and the next moments while I choked on my upchuck are a forgotten bour because panic seized so much that I nearly passed out amidst Casey’s shrieking. I forget how much time passed before I regained full consciousness and could actually communicate intelligibly.
I opened my eyes slowly after I regained consciousness. After initially forgetting, I remembered that I had been taped and zipped and quite helpless. It was like losing 20 minutes of my life, and Nichole trie to resist biting her fingernails in a nervous tic. Seeing my eyes seemed to bring peace to her though, and her face shined brightly when she realized I was all right and hadn't died from the gag. I realized now that I had been cut free of my binds while unconscious and just mentally acted as though I were still tied.
“I’m so glad to see you!” Nichole hugged me tightly.
“Don't be afraid,” I returned the embrace.
“That was wild!” Casey gave her view, “Your face soured, and then you exploded!”
“I have such a headache!” I groaned like a child, “How’s short stuff?”
“Oh, Jenn’s fine,” Nichole cackled nervously, “You OK?”
“I'm fine,” I softened my voice, “Just need a Tylenol or two.”
I turned my attention back to Lilliput, but in this version of the tale Gulliver had won the day against the enemy. The Gangsta Princess continued to be as defiant as ever despite being so tightly bound and so unkindly gagged. How she maintains so much energy in bondage still mystifies me to this day, and I still have no answer for it nor does anyone else. Jenny is just Jenny and outruns her children even despite parents usually being the ones run ragged by the toddlers!
Speaking of being run ragged, I was a real downer. I undid Jenny’s hogtie, dragged her to the bedroom, and slept the day away with as my stuffie, much to the chagrin of the other guests. Nearly choking to death had drained the energy out of my body, and we were all forced to agree that I would never again be gagged with any but clean and fresh material lest an incident like this be repeated.
My first and last…dirty laundry gag
Next: Roomies (F/FF)
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 230
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
Very interesting experience. Probably more realistic than people think. Good job, always love when Jenny gets a good tie.
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
Roomies Part 1 (FF/FFF)
“Good morning, Bridget,” Joy said to her roommate on their first quiet Saturday as college freshmen and roommates.
“Hi,” Bridget muttered without looking at Joy.
Bridget was sitting in her varied blue flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt while curled up under a blanket. She stared into the distance without any emotions, and she seemed uncomfortable at best. In two weeks as roommates, all Joy knew about this girl was that she was a TUG-playing rower from Madison, Wisconsin. In the week since their sorority “initiation,” Bridget admitted she'd gained tons of respect for Joy, but that was all she said.
Joy sat down next to Bridget and now could see that the strongest girl of them all, at the moment, was quietly crying. She'd been dealing this with their other roommate, Joyce, all week as well: homesickness. Joyce had experience with weekends away from home courtesy girl scouts, but she was always a phone call away from home until now. Bridget, except for one rowing trip, had spent every night of her life in her own bed. Joyce and Joy shared one room and let the reclusive rower have the other; in a bureaucratic error, the girls never got a fourth roommate.
“Go away,” Bridget groaned and stood up,
“Bridget, can I help at all?” Joy tried asking as the rower walked away.
“Yes, by leaving me alone,” Bridget shut the door.
“What was that about?” Joyce now opened the door and straightened her clothes as she stood up.
“You… never mind… I don’t get it!”
“You should do something for her!” suggested the well-bundled Florida girl.
Joyce was still in her own pajamas and was deep in thought. She was the newest to TUGs, with her own prior experience being limited to whatever hijinks happened among her fellow Girl Scouts, and they were nothing like the sophisticated kidnappings that her roommates practiced. Rowing, TUGs, and Bridget were an odd mixture, but Joyce had an idea.
“I’m a kitchen grandma. I don’t hug people and dry their tears,” a defeated Joy groaned.
“Why don’t you make breakfast, something you already know she likes or would probably like?”
“And then what?” the girl put her face in her hands and sighed.
“You have a TUG party,” Joyce sounded mischievous and softened her voice, “Kidnap me with Bridget’s help and invite your friends over and nab them too.”
“That’s an idea,” Joy remarked with a smile, “I can do that!”
“Get to work!”
With Joy wearing purple sweatpants, purple sneakers, white socks, and a purple and teal t-shirt from the TUG sorority, it only seemed appropriate to add… a teal bandana headband and a purple apron for cooking! This was the first time Joyce had seen Joy with such a smile on her face as the one she had now. She stood up and knew, as if they hadn’t already figured as much, that this was going to be a good year.
Joyce decided that she’d rather keep her pajamas on if she was going to be tied up. Beyond rope, tape, and bandanas, all was new to her. Rubber balls, socks, heavier binding, and zip ties were among the many new things and concepts that she had learned in the past two weeks; she wanted to learn all she could about this thrilling new game. Even her friends were learning new things from the TUG sorority even though she and Joy were the only ones really interested in it.
The hybrid blonde-brunette (more brunette, really, with only slight natural blonde highlights) watched with interest as her friends put together a batch of homemade panics. Joyce rued her poor genetics at moments like this because she couldn’t share in the joy of the chocolate chips that Joy put in them beyond the one she sneakily took from the bag; she couldn’t have the syrup either, and she could only eat one or two of the delicious griddled breakfast.
“Would you mind warning me before you do that?” Joy shuddered as Joyce injected herself.
“I didn’t know that’d make you queasy. Sorry. I normally ask first.”
“I’ll get used to it, but not today.”
“Joy,” Joyce smiled, “Bridget will come around, won't she?”
“I’m sure. You're an only child, so there's a different kind of separation anxiety.”
“I'm not an only child, but my half-siblings both have a child older than me.”
Joyce indeed had it different from the other two. Joy’s sister was president of the TUG sorority here at Minnesota Tech. Joyce was the spoiled child of older parents, and Joy was the younger child in a happy family of four. Bridget was a mystery as she didn't really use her social media and was completely locked down. How could they get the girl to open up at least enough to stop the self-destructive cycle that will otherwise ruin college for her?
“Bridget! Breakfast is up!” Joy called out and waited for about 30 seconds.
“Are those,” Bridget opened the door nervously, “Pancakes?”
“Yes, they're pancakes, and with chocolate chips too,” the chef smiled.
“Thank you,” Bridget let the door swing open and walked over with bloodshot eyes.
“Eat as many as you like,” Joy smiled, “And there's bacon too.”
“Won't you eat any, Joyce?” the rower took her seat at the table.
“I can eat one of these or a couple plain without syrup. Stevia gets me only so far.”
“You're diabetic, right?”
“Yeah,” Joyce laughed a little, “I have acquired a taste for things I like.”
Bridget ate and ate and ate like the other two hadn't seen her yet eat. Clearly, she had been going without since her arrival, and Joy had given her the first meal that made her feel welcome. A big smile was on Bridget’s face as she stood up and turned to go back to her room.
“I’ll be in here if you need me. Just knock,” she spoke in a happier tone, “Thank you for breakfast.”
“You're very welcome. It's a pleasure to make someone happy.”
“Oh, by the way, I normally like blueberry pancakes, but those were the best!”
“Awwww! I’m glad to finally see you happy!” Joy’s eyes sparkled.
“We’ll talk later, I think,” the rower shut the door with her smile visible to the closure.
“OK.”
Joy had done something right at last. She didn't need to be Bridget’s best friend, but she felt that they needed to be at least acquainted to be good roommates. TUGs were the one thing that consistently brought Bridget out of her room. In fact, Joyce and Joy had done a test of just that by taking turns “kidnapping” each other for a week to see if Bridget would come; she came out every time.
Joyce went to take a long shower after the dishes were washed; she announced this to Joy in order to give her time to work on Bridget. Joy took off her apron, walked up to Bridget’s door, and felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to knock but was afraid to do so lest she disrupt Bridget. After a minute of nervous silence, she gave the door three short raps with her knuckles.
“What do you need?” Bridget opened the door without hesitation.
“Hey, I was just thinking of… um… inviting Jenny and Nichole over… and… then… um… yeah… we could… um… I was thinking… well…”
“Out with it, Joy. I’m not going to bite your head off.”
“You're not?” Joy froze a little, “Joyce and I are both so afraid of you because you seem to be a loner.”
“I'm anything but a loner… I’m just not that comfortable with you yet. What's up?”
“Oh… yeah… Want to help me kidnap Jenn, Joyce, and Nichole?”
“Sure!” the strong girl answered without hesitation, “I’d love to help you especially!”
Joy breathed a huge sigh of relief and noticed Bridget staring at her oddly. Now Joy realized that she had quite negatively judged a girl who was really nice or at least was trying her best to be nice. Maybe Bridget was scary when she was angry, but she was quite amiable otherwise.
The bait now had to be laid…
In another place, a different scene was taking place. Jenny Kristensen and her friend Nichole Blakely had, by a stroke of luck, been made first year roommates. They had always been more than best friends, but now it was coming to fruition.
“Buzz off!”
“Gangsta Queen! Wake up!” Jenny rubbed her friend in bed.
“It's Saturday, and I’m caught up. Let me sleep in!” Nichole hid under the sheets.
“It's 8 o’clock; you slept enough!”
“Pleasssseeee?”
“I’ll get you yet!” Jenny backed off.
Jenny stood and put her hands on her hips with a defiant gaze. Camouflage leggings, pink socks and sneakers, a beige t-shirt, and a camouflage bandana headband adorned her body along with her hair being in its usual braid held by a brown scrunchie. With her preferences in fashion, one could almost predict she was blue colorblind.
She wasn't getting breakfast without her best friend, and she wasn't waiting too much longer either. There had to be some way to get Nichole out of bed. Then the idea struck Jenny. In a flash, she pounced on her friend and started ticking her.
“Get up!” Jenny ordered her roommate.
“Jenny! Haha!” Nichole jumped 6 inches, “Get off! Get off! You win! I’m awake!”
“Good!” Jenny stopped the tickling and ruffled Nichole’s hair, “I should have tied you up, but Joy invited us over and I want to tie her up.”
“Whatever,” Nichole stretched, “Sheesh, it's cold.”
“Nippy, not cold,” the small girl flaunted her short sleeves.
“Cold, not nippy; I need long sleeves,” the pajamas came off her.
“I’m not a dirty girl like those sorority girls, but one day I’ll nab you in your undies.”
Nichole raised an eyebrow and gave Jenny a wry smile before putting her clothes on. The Gangsta Queen put on a pair of black jeans, an icy blue long sleeve t-shirt, and a black kerchief bandana. Her feet were shod with white crew socks and black canvas sneakers.
To this, Nichole added a hoodie before they walked out into the cold. As they walked (Jenny skipped), they talked about Joy and her roommates. Jenny saw so much in Joyce and Bridget and talked about them with enthusiasm and how she was going to wrangle them if they got the chance. Nichole was less than enthusiastic about Bridget.
“The rower’s a weirdo. She needs to get laid or something.”
“That's an awful thing to say,” Jenny took offense, “She's a flower yet to bloom.”
“Yeah, stinkweed,” the Gangsta Queen shot back, “C’mon, she has no real Facebook.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Kind of creepy having an account with 26 friends and no profile picture clicking like on videos of us playing TUGs.”
“Does she seem like the social media type? Noooooo! Be a pal; she needs friends!”
Nichole pursed her lips and looked down at her feet with a bit of guilt apparent on her face. She didn’t have to be a pal if she didn’t want to be, so who was Jenny to boss her around? But, who was she to decide someone was undeserving of having friends just for being shy? Nichole tried to turn away, but Jenny just kept following her face with that infinite energy.
Throwing her hands up as they entered the dining hall, Nichole finally agreed to give Bridget a fair chance, and Jenny jumped for joy at that. The sisters from different mothers walked down the line and, in perfect irony, chose pancakes for their breakfast that day. How little they knew that the other three had eaten the same.
Jenny was looking forward to being the kidnapper for once; at least, she thought she was going to be the kidnapper for once. Joy and Bridget, however, had a very different plan for their three friends, Jenny, Nichole, and Joyce.
“Good morning, Bridget,” Joy said to her roommate on their first quiet Saturday as college freshmen and roommates.
“Hi,” Bridget muttered without looking at Joy.
Bridget was sitting in her varied blue flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt while curled up under a blanket. She stared into the distance without any emotions, and she seemed uncomfortable at best. In two weeks as roommates, all Joy knew about this girl was that she was a TUG-playing rower from Madison, Wisconsin. In the week since their sorority “initiation,” Bridget admitted she'd gained tons of respect for Joy, but that was all she said.
Joy sat down next to Bridget and now could see that the strongest girl of them all, at the moment, was quietly crying. She'd been dealing this with their other roommate, Joyce, all week as well: homesickness. Joyce had experience with weekends away from home courtesy girl scouts, but she was always a phone call away from home until now. Bridget, except for one rowing trip, had spent every night of her life in her own bed. Joyce and Joy shared one room and let the reclusive rower have the other; in a bureaucratic error, the girls never got a fourth roommate.
“Go away,” Bridget groaned and stood up,
“Bridget, can I help at all?” Joy tried asking as the rower walked away.
“Yes, by leaving me alone,” Bridget shut the door.
“What was that about?” Joyce now opened the door and straightened her clothes as she stood up.
“You… never mind… I don’t get it!”
“You should do something for her!” suggested the well-bundled Florida girl.
Joyce was still in her own pajamas and was deep in thought. She was the newest to TUGs, with her own prior experience being limited to whatever hijinks happened among her fellow Girl Scouts, and they were nothing like the sophisticated kidnappings that her roommates practiced. Rowing, TUGs, and Bridget were an odd mixture, but Joyce had an idea.
“I’m a kitchen grandma. I don’t hug people and dry their tears,” a defeated Joy groaned.
“Why don’t you make breakfast, something you already know she likes or would probably like?”
“And then what?” the girl put her face in her hands and sighed.
“You have a TUG party,” Joyce sounded mischievous and softened her voice, “Kidnap me with Bridget’s help and invite your friends over and nab them too.”
“That’s an idea,” Joy remarked with a smile, “I can do that!”
“Get to work!”
With Joy wearing purple sweatpants, purple sneakers, white socks, and a purple and teal t-shirt from the TUG sorority, it only seemed appropriate to add… a teal bandana headband and a purple apron for cooking! This was the first time Joyce had seen Joy with such a smile on her face as the one she had now. She stood up and knew, as if they hadn’t already figured as much, that this was going to be a good year.
Joyce decided that she’d rather keep her pajamas on if she was going to be tied up. Beyond rope, tape, and bandanas, all was new to her. Rubber balls, socks, heavier binding, and zip ties were among the many new things and concepts that she had learned in the past two weeks; she wanted to learn all she could about this thrilling new game. Even her friends were learning new things from the TUG sorority even though she and Joy were the only ones really interested in it.
The hybrid blonde-brunette (more brunette, really, with only slight natural blonde highlights) watched with interest as her friends put together a batch of homemade panics. Joyce rued her poor genetics at moments like this because she couldn’t share in the joy of the chocolate chips that Joy put in them beyond the one she sneakily took from the bag; she couldn’t have the syrup either, and she could only eat one or two of the delicious griddled breakfast.
“Would you mind warning me before you do that?” Joy shuddered as Joyce injected herself.
“I didn’t know that’d make you queasy. Sorry. I normally ask first.”
“I’ll get used to it, but not today.”
“Joy,” Joyce smiled, “Bridget will come around, won't she?”
“I’m sure. You're an only child, so there's a different kind of separation anxiety.”
“I'm not an only child, but my half-siblings both have a child older than me.”
Joyce indeed had it different from the other two. Joy’s sister was president of the TUG sorority here at Minnesota Tech. Joyce was the spoiled child of older parents, and Joy was the younger child in a happy family of four. Bridget was a mystery as she didn't really use her social media and was completely locked down. How could they get the girl to open up at least enough to stop the self-destructive cycle that will otherwise ruin college for her?
“Bridget! Breakfast is up!” Joy called out and waited for about 30 seconds.
“Are those,” Bridget opened the door nervously, “Pancakes?”
“Yes, they're pancakes, and with chocolate chips too,” the chef smiled.
“Thank you,” Bridget let the door swing open and walked over with bloodshot eyes.
“Eat as many as you like,” Joy smiled, “And there's bacon too.”
“Won't you eat any, Joyce?” the rower took her seat at the table.
“I can eat one of these or a couple plain without syrup. Stevia gets me only so far.”
“You're diabetic, right?”
“Yeah,” Joyce laughed a little, “I have acquired a taste for things I like.”
Bridget ate and ate and ate like the other two hadn't seen her yet eat. Clearly, she had been going without since her arrival, and Joy had given her the first meal that made her feel welcome. A big smile was on Bridget’s face as she stood up and turned to go back to her room.
“I’ll be in here if you need me. Just knock,” she spoke in a happier tone, “Thank you for breakfast.”
“You're very welcome. It's a pleasure to make someone happy.”
“Oh, by the way, I normally like blueberry pancakes, but those were the best!”
“Awwww! I’m glad to finally see you happy!” Joy’s eyes sparkled.
“We’ll talk later, I think,” the rower shut the door with her smile visible to the closure.
“OK.”
Joy had done something right at last. She didn't need to be Bridget’s best friend, but she felt that they needed to be at least acquainted to be good roommates. TUGs were the one thing that consistently brought Bridget out of her room. In fact, Joyce and Joy had done a test of just that by taking turns “kidnapping” each other for a week to see if Bridget would come; she came out every time.
Joyce went to take a long shower after the dishes were washed; she announced this to Joy in order to give her time to work on Bridget. Joy took off her apron, walked up to Bridget’s door, and felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to knock but was afraid to do so lest she disrupt Bridget. After a minute of nervous silence, she gave the door three short raps with her knuckles.
“What do you need?” Bridget opened the door without hesitation.
“Hey, I was just thinking of… um… inviting Jenny and Nichole over… and… then… um… yeah… we could… um… I was thinking… well…”
“Out with it, Joy. I’m not going to bite your head off.”
“You're not?” Joy froze a little, “Joyce and I are both so afraid of you because you seem to be a loner.”
“I'm anything but a loner… I’m just not that comfortable with you yet. What's up?”
“Oh… yeah… Want to help me kidnap Jenn, Joyce, and Nichole?”
“Sure!” the strong girl answered without hesitation, “I’d love to help you especially!”
Joy breathed a huge sigh of relief and noticed Bridget staring at her oddly. Now Joy realized that she had quite negatively judged a girl who was really nice or at least was trying her best to be nice. Maybe Bridget was scary when she was angry, but she was quite amiable otherwise.
The bait now had to be laid…
In another place, a different scene was taking place. Jenny Kristensen and her friend Nichole Blakely had, by a stroke of luck, been made first year roommates. They had always been more than best friends, but now it was coming to fruition.
“Buzz off!”
“Gangsta Queen! Wake up!” Jenny rubbed her friend in bed.
“It's Saturday, and I’m caught up. Let me sleep in!” Nichole hid under the sheets.
“It's 8 o’clock; you slept enough!”
“Pleasssseeee?”
“I’ll get you yet!” Jenny backed off.
Jenny stood and put her hands on her hips with a defiant gaze. Camouflage leggings, pink socks and sneakers, a beige t-shirt, and a camouflage bandana headband adorned her body along with her hair being in its usual braid held by a brown scrunchie. With her preferences in fashion, one could almost predict she was blue colorblind.
She wasn't getting breakfast without her best friend, and she wasn't waiting too much longer either. There had to be some way to get Nichole out of bed. Then the idea struck Jenny. In a flash, she pounced on her friend and started ticking her.
“Get up!” Jenny ordered her roommate.
“Jenny! Haha!” Nichole jumped 6 inches, “Get off! Get off! You win! I’m awake!”
“Good!” Jenny stopped the tickling and ruffled Nichole’s hair, “I should have tied you up, but Joy invited us over and I want to tie her up.”
“Whatever,” Nichole stretched, “Sheesh, it's cold.”
“Nippy, not cold,” the small girl flaunted her short sleeves.
“Cold, not nippy; I need long sleeves,” the pajamas came off her.
“I’m not a dirty girl like those sorority girls, but one day I’ll nab you in your undies.”
Nichole raised an eyebrow and gave Jenny a wry smile before putting her clothes on. The Gangsta Queen put on a pair of black jeans, an icy blue long sleeve t-shirt, and a black kerchief bandana. Her feet were shod with white crew socks and black canvas sneakers.
To this, Nichole added a hoodie before they walked out into the cold. As they walked (Jenny skipped), they talked about Joy and her roommates. Jenny saw so much in Joyce and Bridget and talked about them with enthusiasm and how she was going to wrangle them if they got the chance. Nichole was less than enthusiastic about Bridget.
“The rower’s a weirdo. She needs to get laid or something.”
“That's an awful thing to say,” Jenny took offense, “She's a flower yet to bloom.”
“Yeah, stinkweed,” the Gangsta Queen shot back, “C’mon, she has no real Facebook.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Kind of creepy having an account with 26 friends and no profile picture clicking like on videos of us playing TUGs.”
“Does she seem like the social media type? Noooooo! Be a pal; she needs friends!”
Nichole pursed her lips and looked down at her feet with a bit of guilt apparent on her face. She didn’t have to be a pal if she didn’t want to be, so who was Jenny to boss her around? But, who was she to decide someone was undeserving of having friends just for being shy? Nichole tried to turn away, but Jenny just kept following her face with that infinite energy.
Throwing her hands up as they entered the dining hall, Nichole finally agreed to give Bridget a fair chance, and Jenny jumped for joy at that. The sisters from different mothers walked down the line and, in perfect irony, chose pancakes for their breakfast that day. How little they knew that the other three had eaten the same.
Jenny was looking forward to being the kidnapper for once; at least, she thought she was going to be the kidnapper for once. Joy and Bridget, however, had a very different plan for their three friends, Jenny, Nichole, and Joyce.
Last edited by AlexUSA3 3 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
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Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
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harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: 6 years ago
Never mind being tagged as it lets me know about good story series like this one haha Yeah I'm hoping whatever the issue is with the site outage it resolves soon, seemed fine for a few days/a week but the issue has returned it seems
Roomies Part 2 (FF/FFF)
“Jenny and Nichole are on their way over,” Joy announced from her seat on the sofa.
“Well, I’m going into the shower,” Joyce announced, “Don’t have fun without me.”
“We won’t,” Joy waited for the door to shut, “You take Jenny; I’ll get Nichole.”
“Jenny? That spaz? I don’t want to,” Bridget grimaced a little.
“If you try, you’ll discover that she’s a bundle of fun and the cutest thing ever to tie up.”
“Since you put it that way,” Bridget smiled a little, “I’ll try. I’ll go quickly ‘Cool Girl’ myself.”
Bridget didn't even shut the bedroom door as she changed; as a rower, she was used to girls seeing her in her underwear or even her birthday suit. White Minnesota Tech sweatpants, a navy blue t-shirt, and a bright blue bandana headband were Bridget’s idea of ‘Cool Girl’ on this day. She posed for Joy’s approval and got a thumbs up and a smile.
“My big sister would approve,” Bridget grinned, “She's so admirable.”
“You have a sister?” Joy asked in surprise.
“Didn't I tell you? I’m 1 of 4.”
“Oh, is that the Erin Sjaastad who is always plugging you on Facebook?”
“Yes, indeed, she is much more sociable than me even if still reserved.”
“Ah,” Joy noted these things in her mind, “You're blessed to have each other.”
When the knock arrived, Joy casually strode over to open it. Nichole walked into the apartment, but Jenny bounced in behind her. Bridget immediately started fidgeting and turned away after muttering a greeting. She had started to retreat when the blue girl stood in her way and similarly muttered something. Both froze in their steps.
Bridget only wanted to melt away into the sofa or her bed and never be seen again. Nichole simply wanted to apologize for being uncharitable to the strong rower. Until one spoke up, neither was going to understand what was happening. They stood facing each other but looking at the other’s feet. A lump formed in Nichole’s throat, and she finally spoke.
“I'm sorry if I’ve been unwelcoming and maybe excluding you from things.”
“Oh, it's all right. I didn't feel excluded. You're forgiven that,” Bridget made eye contact.
“Thanks. I know college is hard for introverts. Tell me if I ever make you feel left out or overwhelm you,” Nichole smiled a little.
“Well, it's me that's the issue. Joy begged me to actually join y’all for once.”
“Whatcha two talking about, you quiet lumps!” Jenny sprang over.
“I have work to do,” Bridget said to Nichole and turned to Jenny, “Hey, you spaz monkey, I hear you like eating your own socks!”
The Gangsta Princess with her pink footgear and earthen toned clothes stopped her incessant bouncing in a heartbeat. Nichole burst into laughter at hearing her best friend insulted in that manner. Watching Jenny’s spring snap and her face turn into a big frown so quickly was the kind of moment cameras never catch.
Jenny turned to Nichole and saw a Gangsta Queen doubled over in pained laughter and repeating the phrase ‘spaz monkey’ like a ritual prayer. She looked to Joy and only got a shrug of nonchalance before the Gangsta Girl turned her attention toward the kitchen. She looked at Bridget and saw a rower, possessing terrifying strength, grabbing a tote bag.
Bridget clamped one hand down on Jenny's wrist, but that was enough. Jenny tried to pull herself away or drag Bridget down with her, but the Swede was rooted in place. It was a standoff but with only one fair winner possible. Jenny considered actions that her friends might try, like stepping on Bridget’s toes, faking injury, and bribing their way out, but such deceit wasn't possible. Jenny was completely incapable of lying or deceiving or using dirty tactics.
“Lad mig gå!” Jenny groaned in Danish instead, begging to be freed.
“Jag kommer inte att göra det!” came back in a different language Jenny understood.
“You speak Danish?!”
“No, but I speak darned good Swedish. You're mine, you rope bunny!”
“Ha ha haaaaa! Two weeks and she can tell you're a rope bunny!” Nichole cackled.
“Please let go!” Jenny did know how to beg though, “Pleeassssee!”
“She's only trying,” Nichole taunted her, “Because you're a small, athletic, cute, kind, innocent, Gangsta, rope-obsessed, lovable spaz monkey!”
“She is all of those things, isn't she? Is she for real?”
Bridget stopped toying with Jenny and dragged the girl to herself. Into Jenny's mouth went a temporary purple bandana cleave gag, and Bridget began to tie the girl with a pile of plain white rope. Jenny’s wrists and elbows were tied first along with a breast harness and a waist rope before Bridget pulled Jenny’s sneakers off her feet. The smell of feet that had gone for a morning run hit her face.
The strong rower unknotted the gag and saw a sparkle in Jenny's eyes. The sparkle was familiar and reminded Bridget of kidnapping her own big sister. This instant was the beginning of the friendship between Bridget Sjaastad and Jenny Kristensen, and it is a friendship that has since seen them marry brothers and thus become sisters-in-law. A peace overcame Bridget as she pushed Jenny’s socks into her mouth and heard the little runner groan in disgust while she knotted the purple bandana once again.
Nichole and Joy saw the moments where Jenny’s eyes began sparkling and Bridget’s changed from scared to relaxed. Embarrassment filled Nichole at the realization that not necessarily having matching personalities didn't mean she and Bridget couldn't mutually respect each other. Friendship wasn't required so soon. Distraction was the enemy of safety.
“What the heck?!” Nichole was slew-footed down to the ground.
“Gotcha, Queen!” Joy quickly tied Nichole’s crossed wrists behind her back.
“If you really want an angry captive, you somehow force a smelly sock over their nose!” Bridget explained, “Or a shoe!”
“Thanks for the advice! UGHHH!” Nichole grunted, “So magnanimous of you!”
“I don't know what you said! But I’ll just say, 'You're welcome!’”
“Joyce and I are blessed to barf from such things!” Joy added an insolent two cents.
“You’re freaking blessed all right,” Nichole scowled and watched Joy bind her, “To be rotten!”
Joy wasn’t a foolish girl, and she bound Nichole’s ankles and thighs next after her wrists. The nickname of Gangsta Queen was perhaps appropriate for a girl who was insolent as Nichole was during such moments. Jenny might have been struggling and squirming, but she didn’t utter the feigned threats and occasional profanity like Nichole did.
Nichole was forced to sit up, and a well cinched rope connected her upper arms and was also tied above and below her breast, and another at her waist kept her arms in place. Nichole was sat up and stuck watching while her sneakers and socks came off her feet. Joy approached her with the semi-dirty laundry and waved it in front of her in a teasing manner.
“Why don't you stick ‘em in Bridget’s mouth?” Nichole scoffed.
“But they're your socks, and since Jenny has hers you get yours,” Joy retorted.
“I’d tell you to eat them yourself, but you’d barf. Go jump in a lake.”
“You're working up a good punishment,” the captor threatened.
“I’m tied up; Bridget will have to give it to you,” Nichole smiled wryly.
“Hey, be nice!” Bridget jumped up, “I don't like your attitude,”
Now, Nichole noticed that Jenny was now tied at her ankles, knees, and thighs and had white fishing string tied around her toes. The little girl was also in a hogtie from her ankles to her elbows and squirming on the sofa. The Gangsta Queen temporarily forgot that she was also in rope danger until Bridget pinched her nose shut. One gasp in shock was enough for her socks to torment her tongue, and strips of double-sided tape and a blue bandana OTM gag silenced her while Joy also bound her big toes with a piece of Bridget’s string.
“Mmmmmm!” Nichole groaned and watched a white bandana approach her head.
“She deserves extra!” Bridget tied a tight blindfold.
“Thank you! You are actually very thoughtful and honorable,” Joy smiled.
“For you, I try to be. You're my roomie, and maybe my friend, too!”
“I hear Joyce coming! Shhh!” Joy dropped to a whisper.
“What's the commotion? Oh, my! Look at this! Guests!” Joyce dried herself off some more.
The shameless Joyce was in only a ruffled beige denim knee skirt and brown leggings with no shirt. Instead, she wore a standard white bra, and her hair was held back by a simple pink fabric elastic headband. A wry smile was on her face as she noticed how Nichole and Jenny were respectively bound, and she was especially interested in the toe strings.
“I have never seen this before,” Joy spoke for the curious girl.
“My little sister says the toe string is her favorite part,” Bridget dropped another nugget.
“You have a little sister, too?” Joy pulled back.
“Oh, yeah, I never said that, did I? Heh heh,” Bridget felt selfish now, “Yeah, Erin’s 23, and Kristina is 9, almost 10. My brother Mike’s two years older than me.”
“You have a big family! Wow!” Joyce smiled, “How is it? Do you get along?”
“I,” Bridget looked around and saw Nichole and Jenny, “Not now. Photos! Vids!”
Joy and Joyce looked at each while the distracted Bridget grabbed her phone and began to engage in the aforementioned record keeping. The limits of her comfort had been pushed by the presence of the other two, the outsiders, the ones who were now captives of Bridget but still outsiders in spirit. A nervousness overcame the rower, and the other nodded in agreement.
Jenny was a perpetual motion machine while Nichole was extremely deliberate about her motions. The former was a little lump of bound and gagged energy, and the other was more stoic and careful with her words. Even gag talk was a matter of squeaky and loud versus guttural and simply audible. Bridget grinned while doing her duties as a Cool Girl.
“Say, Bridgie, where'd you learn the toe tie stuff?” Joyce pulled a pink polo on herself.
“Erin. Not now, please?” the shyness returned.
“No pressure,” Joyce smiled and straightened her shirt.
“Ooh, I know. How about I tie you up so you can experience it?”
“I’d like that! A chair tie.”
“Better! A chair tie escape challenge!” Bridget's smile returned.
Joyce sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and clasped her hands behind her back without any questions. Bridget turned to Joy as if asking for approval and got a nod of approval from her new friend. Together, they bound the Italian girl, with Bridget in charge of her legs and Joy in charge of her torso. Joyce was stiff like Nichole and thus got a well cinched connection between her upper arms that was worked with the harness and squeezed her torso against the chair back especially when combined with her crossed wrist bond and a waist rope. Her ankles, knees, and thighs were bound with rope and her big toes with a piece of the string. At her own request, she was gagged with one of the blue rubber balls which was threaded with a brown bandana.
Bridget stood up and looked at Joy, again seeking approval, and this time Joy took the photos and video of the captive. A smile overcame both of their faces as they looked back at Jenny and Nichole. Were they in agreement?
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Joy asked Bridget.
“Spanking? Tickling?” Bridget's voice was hopeful.
“We're going to make good friends.”
A loud groan was heard in the room.
“Jenny and Nichole are on their way over,” Joy announced from her seat on the sofa.
“Well, I’m going into the shower,” Joyce announced, “Don’t have fun without me.”
“We won’t,” Joy waited for the door to shut, “You take Jenny; I’ll get Nichole.”
“Jenny? That spaz? I don’t want to,” Bridget grimaced a little.
“If you try, you’ll discover that she’s a bundle of fun and the cutest thing ever to tie up.”
“Since you put it that way,” Bridget smiled a little, “I’ll try. I’ll go quickly ‘Cool Girl’ myself.”
Bridget didn't even shut the bedroom door as she changed; as a rower, she was used to girls seeing her in her underwear or even her birthday suit. White Minnesota Tech sweatpants, a navy blue t-shirt, and a bright blue bandana headband were Bridget’s idea of ‘Cool Girl’ on this day. She posed for Joy’s approval and got a thumbs up and a smile.
“My big sister would approve,” Bridget grinned, “She's so admirable.”
“You have a sister?” Joy asked in surprise.
“Didn't I tell you? I’m 1 of 4.”
“Oh, is that the Erin Sjaastad who is always plugging you on Facebook?”
“Yes, indeed, she is much more sociable than me even if still reserved.”
“Ah,” Joy noted these things in her mind, “You're blessed to have each other.”
When the knock arrived, Joy casually strode over to open it. Nichole walked into the apartment, but Jenny bounced in behind her. Bridget immediately started fidgeting and turned away after muttering a greeting. She had started to retreat when the blue girl stood in her way and similarly muttered something. Both froze in their steps.
Bridget only wanted to melt away into the sofa or her bed and never be seen again. Nichole simply wanted to apologize for being uncharitable to the strong rower. Until one spoke up, neither was going to understand what was happening. They stood facing each other but looking at the other’s feet. A lump formed in Nichole’s throat, and she finally spoke.
“I'm sorry if I’ve been unwelcoming and maybe excluding you from things.”
“Oh, it's all right. I didn't feel excluded. You're forgiven that,” Bridget made eye contact.
“Thanks. I know college is hard for introverts. Tell me if I ever make you feel left out or overwhelm you,” Nichole smiled a little.
“Well, it's me that's the issue. Joy begged me to actually join y’all for once.”
“Whatcha two talking about, you quiet lumps!” Jenny sprang over.
“I have work to do,” Bridget said to Nichole and turned to Jenny, “Hey, you spaz monkey, I hear you like eating your own socks!”
The Gangsta Princess with her pink footgear and earthen toned clothes stopped her incessant bouncing in a heartbeat. Nichole burst into laughter at hearing her best friend insulted in that manner. Watching Jenny’s spring snap and her face turn into a big frown so quickly was the kind of moment cameras never catch.
Jenny turned to Nichole and saw a Gangsta Queen doubled over in pained laughter and repeating the phrase ‘spaz monkey’ like a ritual prayer. She looked to Joy and only got a shrug of nonchalance before the Gangsta Girl turned her attention toward the kitchen. She looked at Bridget and saw a rower, possessing terrifying strength, grabbing a tote bag.
Bridget clamped one hand down on Jenny's wrist, but that was enough. Jenny tried to pull herself away or drag Bridget down with her, but the Swede was rooted in place. It was a standoff but with only one fair winner possible. Jenny considered actions that her friends might try, like stepping on Bridget’s toes, faking injury, and bribing their way out, but such deceit wasn't possible. Jenny was completely incapable of lying or deceiving or using dirty tactics.
“Lad mig gå!” Jenny groaned in Danish instead, begging to be freed.
“Jag kommer inte att göra det!” came back in a different language Jenny understood.
“You speak Danish?!”
“No, but I speak darned good Swedish. You're mine, you rope bunny!”
“Ha ha haaaaa! Two weeks and she can tell you're a rope bunny!” Nichole cackled.
“Please let go!” Jenny did know how to beg though, “Pleeassssee!”
“She's only trying,” Nichole taunted her, “Because you're a small, athletic, cute, kind, innocent, Gangsta, rope-obsessed, lovable spaz monkey!”
“She is all of those things, isn't she? Is she for real?”
Bridget stopped toying with Jenny and dragged the girl to herself. Into Jenny's mouth went a temporary purple bandana cleave gag, and Bridget began to tie the girl with a pile of plain white rope. Jenny’s wrists and elbows were tied first along with a breast harness and a waist rope before Bridget pulled Jenny’s sneakers off her feet. The smell of feet that had gone for a morning run hit her face.
The strong rower unknotted the gag and saw a sparkle in Jenny's eyes. The sparkle was familiar and reminded Bridget of kidnapping her own big sister. This instant was the beginning of the friendship between Bridget Sjaastad and Jenny Kristensen, and it is a friendship that has since seen them marry brothers and thus become sisters-in-law. A peace overcame Bridget as she pushed Jenny’s socks into her mouth and heard the little runner groan in disgust while she knotted the purple bandana once again.
Nichole and Joy saw the moments where Jenny’s eyes began sparkling and Bridget’s changed from scared to relaxed. Embarrassment filled Nichole at the realization that not necessarily having matching personalities didn't mean she and Bridget couldn't mutually respect each other. Friendship wasn't required so soon. Distraction was the enemy of safety.
“What the heck?!” Nichole was slew-footed down to the ground.
“Gotcha, Queen!” Joy quickly tied Nichole’s crossed wrists behind her back.
“If you really want an angry captive, you somehow force a smelly sock over their nose!” Bridget explained, “Or a shoe!”
“Thanks for the advice! UGHHH!” Nichole grunted, “So magnanimous of you!”
“I don't know what you said! But I’ll just say, 'You're welcome!’”
“Joyce and I are blessed to barf from such things!” Joy added an insolent two cents.
“You’re freaking blessed all right,” Nichole scowled and watched Joy bind her, “To be rotten!”
Joy wasn’t a foolish girl, and she bound Nichole’s ankles and thighs next after her wrists. The nickname of Gangsta Queen was perhaps appropriate for a girl who was insolent as Nichole was during such moments. Jenny might have been struggling and squirming, but she didn’t utter the feigned threats and occasional profanity like Nichole did.
Nichole was forced to sit up, and a well cinched rope connected her upper arms and was also tied above and below her breast, and another at her waist kept her arms in place. Nichole was sat up and stuck watching while her sneakers and socks came off her feet. Joy approached her with the semi-dirty laundry and waved it in front of her in a teasing manner.
“Why don't you stick ‘em in Bridget’s mouth?” Nichole scoffed.
“But they're your socks, and since Jenny has hers you get yours,” Joy retorted.
“I’d tell you to eat them yourself, but you’d barf. Go jump in a lake.”
“You're working up a good punishment,” the captor threatened.
“I’m tied up; Bridget will have to give it to you,” Nichole smiled wryly.
“Hey, be nice!” Bridget jumped up, “I don't like your attitude,”
Now, Nichole noticed that Jenny was now tied at her ankles, knees, and thighs and had white fishing string tied around her toes. The little girl was also in a hogtie from her ankles to her elbows and squirming on the sofa. The Gangsta Queen temporarily forgot that she was also in rope danger until Bridget pinched her nose shut. One gasp in shock was enough for her socks to torment her tongue, and strips of double-sided tape and a blue bandana OTM gag silenced her while Joy also bound her big toes with a piece of Bridget’s string.
“Mmmmmm!” Nichole groaned and watched a white bandana approach her head.
“She deserves extra!” Bridget tied a tight blindfold.
“Thank you! You are actually very thoughtful and honorable,” Joy smiled.
“For you, I try to be. You're my roomie, and maybe my friend, too!”
“I hear Joyce coming! Shhh!” Joy dropped to a whisper.
“What's the commotion? Oh, my! Look at this! Guests!” Joyce dried herself off some more.
The shameless Joyce was in only a ruffled beige denim knee skirt and brown leggings with no shirt. Instead, she wore a standard white bra, and her hair was held back by a simple pink fabric elastic headband. A wry smile was on her face as she noticed how Nichole and Jenny were respectively bound, and she was especially interested in the toe strings.
“I have never seen this before,” Joy spoke for the curious girl.
“My little sister says the toe string is her favorite part,” Bridget dropped another nugget.
“You have a little sister, too?” Joy pulled back.
“Oh, yeah, I never said that, did I? Heh heh,” Bridget felt selfish now, “Yeah, Erin’s 23, and Kristina is 9, almost 10. My brother Mike’s two years older than me.”
“You have a big family! Wow!” Joyce smiled, “How is it? Do you get along?”
“I,” Bridget looked around and saw Nichole and Jenny, “Not now. Photos! Vids!”
Joy and Joyce looked at each while the distracted Bridget grabbed her phone and began to engage in the aforementioned record keeping. The limits of her comfort had been pushed by the presence of the other two, the outsiders, the ones who were now captives of Bridget but still outsiders in spirit. A nervousness overcame the rower, and the other nodded in agreement.
Jenny was a perpetual motion machine while Nichole was extremely deliberate about her motions. The former was a little lump of bound and gagged energy, and the other was more stoic and careful with her words. Even gag talk was a matter of squeaky and loud versus guttural and simply audible. Bridget grinned while doing her duties as a Cool Girl.
“Say, Bridgie, where'd you learn the toe tie stuff?” Joyce pulled a pink polo on herself.
“Erin. Not now, please?” the shyness returned.
“No pressure,” Joyce smiled and straightened her shirt.
“Ooh, I know. How about I tie you up so you can experience it?”
“I’d like that! A chair tie.”
“Better! A chair tie escape challenge!” Bridget's smile returned.
Joyce sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and clasped her hands behind her back without any questions. Bridget turned to Joy as if asking for approval and got a nod of approval from her new friend. Together, they bound the Italian girl, with Bridget in charge of her legs and Joy in charge of her torso. Joyce was stiff like Nichole and thus got a well cinched connection between her upper arms that was worked with the harness and squeezed her torso against the chair back especially when combined with her crossed wrist bond and a waist rope. Her ankles, knees, and thighs were bound with rope and her big toes with a piece of the string. At her own request, she was gagged with one of the blue rubber balls which was threaded with a brown bandana.
Bridget stood up and looked at Joy, again seeking approval, and this time Joy took the photos and video of the captive. A smile overcame both of their faces as they looked back at Jenny and Nichole. Were they in agreement?
“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Joy asked Bridget.
“Spanking? Tickling?” Bridget's voice was hopeful.
“We're going to make good friends.”
A loud groan was heard in the room.
Last edited by AlexUSA3 3 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Roomies Part 3 (FF/FFF)
Nichole thought she had been punished enough already to be blindfolded, gagged with her own socks, and toe tied. Besides the occasional playful slap, she had never given a genuine spanking, but she had traumatically, all the way until graduation, routinely been tied up and spanked by her father, albeit in a fetishized punishment context and not in a playful manner. Playfully spanking others was her way of coping with being an abused child, and receiving a spanking from a friend was a different matter.
Jenny was excited by it all, even the spanking. As the most frequent victim Nichole chose to spank, she was familiar with her friend/sister’s tendencies, but she had little to no knowledge of the background behind Nichole’s kink, which could be called the first genuine kink any Cool Girl had ever displayed. She struggled in her hogtie and was about to get a couple of additions to her position, and Nichole would also get one.
Shoes. Stinky shoes.
Joy put one of Nichole's smelly canvas shoes over her nose, and the reaction to it was instant with sounds of shrieking and groaning from the damsel-in-distress. Never had it occurred to them that “kink” didn't require sexuality but merely an enjoyment of odd things in the right context, and the consumption of dirty socks, including other’s, was on the list for Nichole and Bridget. Worse, however, were the layers of duct tape that held the shoe firmly in place; Joy kindly draped a red bandana over Nichole’s wavy hair before committing such an inimical act.
Bridget blindfolded Jenny with a pink bandana while the Gangsta Queen squealed and squirmed on the sofa. Only after this was her smelly running sneaker pushed over her nose, but because of her braid Bridget didn't see a need for protecting her hair from the duct tape. Pure humiliation overcame Jenny, who knew she had to be quite the sight with the sneaker in place, but she would disagree if you called it a kink as she found it to be repulsive and only allowed it because she could handle it as long as her own footwear was used against her. Spastically shaking her head didn't help her in the least.
In the chair, Joyce knew she was working against the clock and had been waiting for a chance to play an escape game. Having gone through Girl Scouts from bottom tier all the way to the top and even being used as an instructor for younger ones, Joyce had learned each and every kind of knot. She had one summer even gone on a cruise with her parents, and there were lessons in seamanship that she absorbed like a sponge. After class, she had asked questions and learned even more things about the ways of the water and, of course, knots! She fondly remembered the days of learning and being such an eager learner at that.
The best way to test out knot tying skills, the Girl Scouts discovered, was by tying up each other. While the bindings never went beyond simple ankle-thigh-wrist ties with an occasional hogtie (forward or backward) they had naturally engaged in such games both during Scout activities and in their own homes. Never until two weeks before this day had Joyce received a gag that wasn't strips of duct tape or a cleave gag, and she wished she had brought her scout uniform just to be tied up in it.
From such frequent practice, Joyce and her friends had slowly separated into groups of girls who were good and weren't good at tying a variety of knots, girls who were and weren't good at tying up others, and girls who were and weren't good at escaping. Joyce had risen to be the master of all three categories, and she rose from the girl who was picked on for being small and wearing glasses to being the one all respected most even if she had few she trusted as friends. In school, she was “Joyce Nerdi,” but among her fellow scouts and the Cool Girls’ Club she was accepted.
Here she had the silly and occasionally rambunctious core three bandana-loving girls of the Cool Girls’ Club as the people she was beginning to see as her new friends. Despite their personality quirks, she knew she could trust these relatively new girls with her safety, and trusting them with her safety is what truly mattered most.
“Do you have a wooden spoon, by any chance?” Bridget asked Joy.
“Of course I do,” Joy stood up to retrieve it, “You’re planning to use that on Jenny?!”
“I was. Is that not allowed?” the rower blushed and started withdrawing.
“I’ve just never seen anyone use a wooden spoon before,” Joy handed it to Bridget.
“HEEYYYYYY!” Jenny howled into her foul-tasting socks, “NOOOOO!”
“Shut up!” Bridget slapped Jenny on both butt cheeks, “Behave yourself!”
“OWWWWWWWWWW!”
Bridget smiled at Joy and then saw Joyce bemusedly watching them, and she felt strangely at home with her two roommates and welcome to be herself. Joyce glanced at Joy as Bridget again turned her attention to Jenny, and they both grew bright-eyed in the happiness of their success. A flower named Bridget Sjaastad was slowly beginning to blossom. Little did they know that it was also the beginning of a new aspect of TUGs for Jenny and Nichole to love.
Joyce was tied much more tightly than anything the Scouts had done to her. Looking down, she liked the sight of her bosom perking out from the harness that had been tied and was presently glad to have such firm boobs, something she previously had never strongly considered. It was different for her to learn this as an adult whereas the main trio had been playing for years, and apparently little kids played in Bridget’s family.
Jenny didn’t know whether the prospect of getting spanked or the humiliation of having her own dirty socks jammed in her mouth and her smelly shoes forced over her nose was currently more interesting. She always made lots of noise and squirmed like her life was at risk, which to some was fun and to others, like Bridget, it was a bit overwhelming. Being tied up was an adventure every time for her, a new damsel-in-distress story.
Nichole was patiently waiting for Joy to begin spanking her. She felt monstrous to even like the thought of being spanked given the way her father sexually abused her not only spanking her but also touching her in many inappropriate ways. It was a horrible life at home and without help from her mother she never would have been here. She squirmed and instinctively groaned in a sad and helpless manner at the thoughts of homelife but quickly suppressed the thoughts to not let Jenny know her suffering, but Joy noticed that whimper and immediately devoted all of her attention to her present captive.
“You ready?” Joy asked her friend.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole nodded despite being gagged and blindfolded.
“Here goes!”
SMACK!, one cheek.
“Wheee!”
SMACK!, the other cheek.
“Wheee!”
“I’m not so keen on it,” Joy said, not knowing she had bad technique.
“It’s OK,” Bridget smiled, “I’ll do the spanking; you do the tickling, OK?”
Joy reached up and adjusted her bandana and thought Bridget’s idea sounded good. Bridget in turn adjusted her bandana as if Joy was dropping a hint. She didn’t know what was going on, but Joy seemed very official in her demeanor as she stood up. After clearing her throat, Joy turned to speak so the captives could listen.
“Before your torture begins, I would like to make a proposal to both of you, Jenny, Nichole.”
“Hmm?” both were listening closely.
“Tonight, we reconvene here, and we put Joyce and Bridget through the official process to induct them into the Cool Girls’ Club to become members 7 and 8. What do you say?”
“YAYYYY!” Jenny was very vocal.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole was stoical.
“Excellent for my roomies. Roomie, shall we torture?”
“Yes, let us torture!” smiled the kindly rower.
The room was then filled with four different sounds: the laughter of being tickled, the laughing of being the tickler, the groans of being spanked, and the joys of spanking. Joy was tickling her friend Nichole, and Bridget was spanking Jenny. Joyce merely witnessed the birth of all new friendships with deep satisfaction and felt free to focus on her escape. The sounds were a new kind of music to her ears, and she wondered what it would be like to give and receive torture.
Nichole was getting pushed in a way Joy knew her asthmatic friend could handle; too much pushing would send Nichole into dangerous coughing fits. Joy focused on the soles of Nichole’s feet and avoided her ribs because of the filthy socks in her mouth. It was truly delightful for both, but only Nichole had to deal with tastes and smells.
Jenny had never received a true spanking before. Her parents never had reason to spank her if they even would have done such a thing. She squealed with each of the spanks and enjoyed the shots of pain as something she couldn't resist. The hogtie left her unable to even squirm away, and the squeals made sock flavors leach onto her tongue. She was experiencing the height of the mix of pain, delight, and humiliation in TUGs! Never for a second did she stop providing some type of movement or sound for Bridget’s entertainment.
Then the time came to switch, the time to which Nichole was looking forward. She had her odd fantasies of spanking which she had kept to herself, and she readied for Bridget’s seemingly kind hand to lay down upon her. Now that she had been drawn out, Bridget was proving to be as likable as Jenny had insisted before. Underneath the tough exterior was a kind and considerate person.
“Ready?” Bridget asked the captive.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole nodded again.
“All right! I’ll be gentle since I’ve never spanked you before.”
SMACK!, one cheek.
“Wheee!”
SMACK!, the other cheek.
“Wheee!”
“You like that!”
Joyce watched the tickling and spanking with great interest, but her focus was on her own situation. Enough shimmying had done the deed, and her wrists were free. Her distracted roommates didn't notice her even untying the ropes that bound her. There was too much fun being had with the other captives, and Joyce quietly freed herself until all was in a messy pile on the floor. Her plan had worked; Bridget was happy.
Jenny howled into her vile gag while Joy tickled her without mercy. Unlike Nichole, Jenny wasn't limited by asthma or anything else except her own limits. Joy jammed her fingers into the many soft crevices of her friend’s body, and the captive Gangsta Princess loved every second of it. Howling laughter and violent thrashing came from the damsel-in-distress, and laughter also came from the tormentor who could simply tell from the body language that her friend was having fun.
“I'm so thrilled to see you finally smiling!” Joyce interrupted the fun by speaking to Bridget.
“Huh?!” Bridget froze and became wide eyed.
“Yes,” Joyce crouched down by Bridget, “You. I'm sorry college has been hard for you so far, but I’m glad to see you at least are trying to make a friend out of Joy.”
“Umm,” the rower stammered, “Thanks. I think.”
“No forcing things, Bridgie,” the little Italian stood up again.
“Thank you,” Bridget blushed at being called a nickname only used by her own little sister.
Something had indeed changed in Bridget Sjaastad over the morning. While she had a long time to wait before she would feel comfortable completely exiting her shell to accept the terms expected of friendship, she felt comfortable enough being herself as a result of the kind intervention of her roommates, although she only knew of Joy’s part in it all. The rower turned to Joy as if asking for permission, and the purple Gangsta Girl smiled and nodded.
Joy resumed tickling Jenny; Bridget resumed spanking Nichole; and Joyce filmed her roommate’s first time being truly happy in this new phase of life. They had one more adventure ahead of them before the day was over.
Nichole thought she had been punished enough already to be blindfolded, gagged with her own socks, and toe tied. Besides the occasional playful slap, she had never given a genuine spanking, but she had traumatically, all the way until graduation, routinely been tied up and spanked by her father, albeit in a fetishized punishment context and not in a playful manner. Playfully spanking others was her way of coping with being an abused child, and receiving a spanking from a friend was a different matter.
Jenny was excited by it all, even the spanking. As the most frequent victim Nichole chose to spank, she was familiar with her friend/sister’s tendencies, but she had little to no knowledge of the background behind Nichole’s kink, which could be called the first genuine kink any Cool Girl had ever displayed. She struggled in her hogtie and was about to get a couple of additions to her position, and Nichole would also get one.
Shoes. Stinky shoes.
Joy put one of Nichole's smelly canvas shoes over her nose, and the reaction to it was instant with sounds of shrieking and groaning from the damsel-in-distress. Never had it occurred to them that “kink” didn't require sexuality but merely an enjoyment of odd things in the right context, and the consumption of dirty socks, including other’s, was on the list for Nichole and Bridget. Worse, however, were the layers of duct tape that held the shoe firmly in place; Joy kindly draped a red bandana over Nichole’s wavy hair before committing such an inimical act.
Bridget blindfolded Jenny with a pink bandana while the Gangsta Queen squealed and squirmed on the sofa. Only after this was her smelly running sneaker pushed over her nose, but because of her braid Bridget didn't see a need for protecting her hair from the duct tape. Pure humiliation overcame Jenny, who knew she had to be quite the sight with the sneaker in place, but she would disagree if you called it a kink as she found it to be repulsive and only allowed it because she could handle it as long as her own footwear was used against her. Spastically shaking her head didn't help her in the least.
In the chair, Joyce knew she was working against the clock and had been waiting for a chance to play an escape game. Having gone through Girl Scouts from bottom tier all the way to the top and even being used as an instructor for younger ones, Joyce had learned each and every kind of knot. She had one summer even gone on a cruise with her parents, and there were lessons in seamanship that she absorbed like a sponge. After class, she had asked questions and learned even more things about the ways of the water and, of course, knots! She fondly remembered the days of learning and being such an eager learner at that.
The best way to test out knot tying skills, the Girl Scouts discovered, was by tying up each other. While the bindings never went beyond simple ankle-thigh-wrist ties with an occasional hogtie (forward or backward) they had naturally engaged in such games both during Scout activities and in their own homes. Never until two weeks before this day had Joyce received a gag that wasn't strips of duct tape or a cleave gag, and she wished she had brought her scout uniform just to be tied up in it.
From such frequent practice, Joyce and her friends had slowly separated into groups of girls who were good and weren't good at tying a variety of knots, girls who were and weren't good at tying up others, and girls who were and weren't good at escaping. Joyce had risen to be the master of all three categories, and she rose from the girl who was picked on for being small and wearing glasses to being the one all respected most even if she had few she trusted as friends. In school, she was “Joyce Nerdi,” but among her fellow scouts and the Cool Girls’ Club she was accepted.
Here she had the silly and occasionally rambunctious core three bandana-loving girls of the Cool Girls’ Club as the people she was beginning to see as her new friends. Despite their personality quirks, she knew she could trust these relatively new girls with her safety, and trusting them with her safety is what truly mattered most.
“Do you have a wooden spoon, by any chance?” Bridget asked Joy.
“Of course I do,” Joy stood up to retrieve it, “You’re planning to use that on Jenny?!”
“I was. Is that not allowed?” the rower blushed and started withdrawing.
“I’ve just never seen anyone use a wooden spoon before,” Joy handed it to Bridget.
“HEEYYYYYY!” Jenny howled into her foul-tasting socks, “NOOOOO!”
“Shut up!” Bridget slapped Jenny on both butt cheeks, “Behave yourself!”
“OWWWWWWWWWW!”
Bridget smiled at Joy and then saw Joyce bemusedly watching them, and she felt strangely at home with her two roommates and welcome to be herself. Joyce glanced at Joy as Bridget again turned her attention to Jenny, and they both grew bright-eyed in the happiness of their success. A flower named Bridget Sjaastad was slowly beginning to blossom. Little did they know that it was also the beginning of a new aspect of TUGs for Jenny and Nichole to love.
Joyce was tied much more tightly than anything the Scouts had done to her. Looking down, she liked the sight of her bosom perking out from the harness that had been tied and was presently glad to have such firm boobs, something she previously had never strongly considered. It was different for her to learn this as an adult whereas the main trio had been playing for years, and apparently little kids played in Bridget’s family.
Jenny didn’t know whether the prospect of getting spanked or the humiliation of having her own dirty socks jammed in her mouth and her smelly shoes forced over her nose was currently more interesting. She always made lots of noise and squirmed like her life was at risk, which to some was fun and to others, like Bridget, it was a bit overwhelming. Being tied up was an adventure every time for her, a new damsel-in-distress story.
Nichole was patiently waiting for Joy to begin spanking her. She felt monstrous to even like the thought of being spanked given the way her father sexually abused her not only spanking her but also touching her in many inappropriate ways. It was a horrible life at home and without help from her mother she never would have been here. She squirmed and instinctively groaned in a sad and helpless manner at the thoughts of homelife but quickly suppressed the thoughts to not let Jenny know her suffering, but Joy noticed that whimper and immediately devoted all of her attention to her present captive.
“You ready?” Joy asked her friend.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole nodded despite being gagged and blindfolded.
“Here goes!”
SMACK!, one cheek.
“Wheee!”
SMACK!, the other cheek.
“Wheee!”
“I’m not so keen on it,” Joy said, not knowing she had bad technique.
“It’s OK,” Bridget smiled, “I’ll do the spanking; you do the tickling, OK?”
Joy reached up and adjusted her bandana and thought Bridget’s idea sounded good. Bridget in turn adjusted her bandana as if Joy was dropping a hint. She didn’t know what was going on, but Joy seemed very official in her demeanor as she stood up. After clearing her throat, Joy turned to speak so the captives could listen.
“Before your torture begins, I would like to make a proposal to both of you, Jenny, Nichole.”
“Hmm?” both were listening closely.
“Tonight, we reconvene here, and we put Joyce and Bridget through the official process to induct them into the Cool Girls’ Club to become members 7 and 8. What do you say?”
“YAYYYY!” Jenny was very vocal.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole was stoical.
“Excellent for my roomies. Roomie, shall we torture?”
“Yes, let us torture!” smiled the kindly rower.
The room was then filled with four different sounds: the laughter of being tickled, the laughing of being the tickler, the groans of being spanked, and the joys of spanking. Joy was tickling her friend Nichole, and Bridget was spanking Jenny. Joyce merely witnessed the birth of all new friendships with deep satisfaction and felt free to focus on her escape. The sounds were a new kind of music to her ears, and she wondered what it would be like to give and receive torture.
Nichole was getting pushed in a way Joy knew her asthmatic friend could handle; too much pushing would send Nichole into dangerous coughing fits. Joy focused on the soles of Nichole’s feet and avoided her ribs because of the filthy socks in her mouth. It was truly delightful for both, but only Nichole had to deal with tastes and smells.
Jenny had never received a true spanking before. Her parents never had reason to spank her if they even would have done such a thing. She squealed with each of the spanks and enjoyed the shots of pain as something she couldn't resist. The hogtie left her unable to even squirm away, and the squeals made sock flavors leach onto her tongue. She was experiencing the height of the mix of pain, delight, and humiliation in TUGs! Never for a second did she stop providing some type of movement or sound for Bridget’s entertainment.
Then the time came to switch, the time to which Nichole was looking forward. She had her odd fantasies of spanking which she had kept to herself, and she readied for Bridget’s seemingly kind hand to lay down upon her. Now that she had been drawn out, Bridget was proving to be as likable as Jenny had insisted before. Underneath the tough exterior was a kind and considerate person.
“Ready?” Bridget asked the captive.
“Mmm hmm,” Nichole nodded again.
“All right! I’ll be gentle since I’ve never spanked you before.”
SMACK!, one cheek.
“Wheee!”
SMACK!, the other cheek.
“Wheee!”
“You like that!”
Joyce watched the tickling and spanking with great interest, but her focus was on her own situation. Enough shimmying had done the deed, and her wrists were free. Her distracted roommates didn't notice her even untying the ropes that bound her. There was too much fun being had with the other captives, and Joyce quietly freed herself until all was in a messy pile on the floor. Her plan had worked; Bridget was happy.
Jenny howled into her vile gag while Joy tickled her without mercy. Unlike Nichole, Jenny wasn't limited by asthma or anything else except her own limits. Joy jammed her fingers into the many soft crevices of her friend’s body, and the captive Gangsta Princess loved every second of it. Howling laughter and violent thrashing came from the damsel-in-distress, and laughter also came from the tormentor who could simply tell from the body language that her friend was having fun.
“I'm so thrilled to see you finally smiling!” Joyce interrupted the fun by speaking to Bridget.
“Huh?!” Bridget froze and became wide eyed.
“Yes,” Joyce crouched down by Bridget, “You. I'm sorry college has been hard for you so far, but I’m glad to see you at least are trying to make a friend out of Joy.”
“Umm,” the rower stammered, “Thanks. I think.”
“No forcing things, Bridgie,” the little Italian stood up again.
“Thank you,” Bridget blushed at being called a nickname only used by her own little sister.
Something had indeed changed in Bridget Sjaastad over the morning. While she had a long time to wait before she would feel comfortable completely exiting her shell to accept the terms expected of friendship, she felt comfortable enough being herself as a result of the kind intervention of her roommates, although she only knew of Joy’s part in it all. The rower turned to Joy as if asking for permission, and the purple Gangsta Girl smiled and nodded.
Joy resumed tickling Jenny; Bridget resumed spanking Nichole; and Joyce filmed her roommate’s first time being truly happy in this new phase of life. They had one more adventure ahead of them before the day was over.
Last edited by AlexUSA3 3 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 230
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
What a pleasant little bondsge story. As always I love anything with toe ties 
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
I am pausing this thread as no one but Lottie consistently comments on this thread anyway. I have removed "Roomies" from the collection and hope to rework it into a complete tale in its own right.
I will gladly reconsider my stance if suddenly folks come out of the woodwork, but at the moment I see no reason to write for no one but myself. Call it depression or what you will, but it's where I stand.
I also got zero comments on a bunch of one-shots. Is the problem the length of the story? Is 6000 words too long for a one-shot? Would you prefer a multi-chapter tale, even if it's difficult and forced, instead of one chunk? It's confusing because I have gotten a lot of positive feedback on some tales and none on others and thus have no clue what people want.
I will gladly reconsider my stance if suddenly folks come out of the woodwork, but at the moment I see no reason to write for no one but myself. Call it depression or what you will, but it's where I stand.
I also got zero comments on a bunch of one-shots. Is the problem the length of the story? Is 6000 words too long for a one-shot? Would you prefer a multi-chapter tale, even if it's difficult and forced, instead of one chunk? It's confusing because I have gotten a lot of positive feedback on some tales and none on others and thus have no clue what people want.
Last edited by AlexUSA3 3 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
People are often reluctant to comment, even on chaptered stories. My on-going one is almost totally bereft of comments recently but it remains one of my most read tales.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
I feel bad for folks that go through that. You publish the tale hoping for comments that will either improve the story/characters or give an idea of what they like/dislike about it. Instead, you end up with a ton of questions and wonder if a particular tale is somehow flawed compared to others.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
I tend to shrug it off although it is annoying. I sometimes wonder, though, about the surprising ones that do garner comments.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
-
blackbound
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1109
- Joined: 6 years ago
Yeah, there's really nothing one can do but either deal with it or stop writing. I've considered the latter but it feels petty.
Sounds like pretty wise advice to me. Always strive to better your own authorship, but who cares about whether or not it gets a review.blackbound wrote: ↑3 months ago Yeah, there's really nothing one can do but either deal with it or stop writing. I've considered the latter but it feels petty.
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Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Your characters are a Joy to read about as always!!! (Pun intended) I am sorry AlexUSA for not leaving a comment more often. I know I have been very intermittent lately at best. I always enjoy your work even if I don't say it. But that is not fair to you so I will work harder to be a better commenter, but regardless of what others do or say (including myself) do what is best for you.
While I continue to wallow in uncertainty about this thread, I decided to at least bring story 13 to its conclusion. I am obligated to do at least one more because 13 is unlucky!
Roomies Part 4 (FFF/FF)
That evening, with all except Joyce now in their pajamas, the members of the Cool Girls’ Club held a private meeting in the bedroom shared by Joy and Joyce. It had been years since Joy had been formally inducted, and they wanted to be sure that they abided by the same rules. This meant it was time to return to a document from years past as well: The Cool Girls’ Club Minnesota Constitution of 2011.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AWu ... sp=sharing
“Are we agreed on how to do this?” Joy asked her friends.
“Perhaps as Vice President, Casey should be invited to Facetime one of us to watch?” Nichole suggested.
“Sure! I’ll text her right now!” Jenny gladly did it, “If we’ve got a plan, we have to bring it to Joyce and Bridget and make sure they agree.
“Let’s go,” Joy opened the door.
Out stepped three girls in pajamas of different natures. Jenny had flannel; Nichole had fleece; and Joy had regular cotton fabric. They were opposed by the increasingly surprising Bridget Sjaastad, whose pajamas were simply her underwear accompanied by a pair of red spandex athletic shorts. In contrast, Joyce still wore the beige denim knee skirt and brown leggings she had been wearing all day, and her hair was still held back by the pink fabric elastic headband. Now she had a pink t-shirt as well though.
“Are you sure you don't want pajamas?” Joy asked Joyce.
“I'm sure of it. Just trust me,” the Italian girl cleaned her glasses.
“All right, we have agreed on this. I have Casey on Facetime; my phone is plugged in and good to go long term,” Jenny smiled, “Hey, VP, how are you?”
“Good. And I see you have some new friends!”
“Yes, we do, and that's why we're calling,” Jenny explained.
“Oh, tell me about it.”
In keeping with tradition, the proposal was for an escape challenge of a different kind from any other that had been done. Since Joyce and Bridget were about the same size, they were going to be zip tied together, back to back, gagged, and blindfolded. They would have to work together to be able to escape it. Joyce kept stoically cleaning her glasses and checking until there was no dirt, but Bridget seemed less sure about it and squirmed a lot.
Bridget saw now the trap that had been brilliantly laid for her now and before. It all had been a scheme on Joy or Joyce’s part. Grabbing Jenny and Nichole earlier was a tool to get her to play a game with her roommates and their friends when she had been reticent to such things. Now, they wanted her to cooperate with Joyce on escaping an extremely difficult situation. She had been pushed into an alliance with Joy, and now she was being nudged toward one with Joyce. But…
Bridget really did have fun before. She enjoyed spanking Nichole and Jenny. She did like Joy once she saw her behaving more naturally around people she had known for a long time and trusted. Jenny was more than a spaz monkey; there was a likable girl like the one currently leading the present proceedings.
“No one is forcing you girls. We can deliberate something else,” Jenny's friendly smile was strangely inviting.
“I'm fine with it,” Joyce put her glasses back on, “Bridgie?”
“Ummmmm,” Bridget wasn't sure about this, but she trusted Jenny, “OK.”
“Then we'll go into Joy’s bedroom,” Nichole pointed in a way that calmed Bridget.
“No problemo,” Joyce stood up, “Let's do this, Bridgie!”
“Here goes nothing!”
Joyce and Bridget were stood facing each other while in their bare feet. Since Bridget was right handed and Joyce was left handed, that arm pair would be tied differently. The dominant arm's were simply zipped together at the wrist; the non-dominant arms were zipped at not just the wrists but also 4 other points along the forearm, 3 along the upper arms, and each finger of their hands to make those arms completely useless.
The two were zipped at their armpits, 6 points along their thighs, 5 along their lower legs, and 8 along their torsos. Now, their boobs were crushed against each other. Blue rubber balls with handkerchiefs through the holes were the first gag layer; 8 layers of duct tape were the second layer; wrapping their faces together, with care to not grab any hair, was the third layer. Bridget was blindfolded with a yellow bandana, and Joyce had her glasses removed.
“By the front door, hanging from a string, is a pair of scissors. You have to get them,” Jenny explained as Club President, “Have fun.”
Because of the slight height difference, Joyce’s feet were really not touching the ground, which meant Bridget had to do the walking while being guided by a girl who couldn't see without her glasses. The rower was walking blindly, but it wasn’t too difficult even though she was walking for two. In fact, she was surprised by how easy it was! She knew this apartment well enough to wander around to…
CRACK!
“OWWWWWW!” Joyce wailed as her head smashed on the bunk bed.
“Uh hahhen? Oythe?!”
CRACK!
“EEEEEEE!” the girl scout and escapist squealed, “On’h ohe!”
“Ah han’h unherhan hou,” Bridget tried to talk.
Gag talking like this was completely new to Joyce, and Bridget wasn’t used to these new rubber ball gags that Joy and Joyce had gotten from the TUG Sorority. Neither one of them could do much about that, though, as gags hadn’t been discussed before they had been tied up. Could this really be called “tied up,” or were they just simply “bound and gagged”? Joyce had never been tied with anything but rope except when the sorority had duct taped her during the “initiation” process, known in common English as a “hazing ritual.” Bridget stopped moving and waited for the normally calm girl to stop her fiery gag-talk diatribe to talk to her fellow captive.
“Ithen hoo he. Halnhy hell he where hoo ho,” Bridget took over.
“Ohay, ohay… ah’m ihhenin.”
“Hell he where hoo ho.”
Joyce tried to look around for something big and obvious that she could easily identify without her glasses, which was easy except that she couldn’t see behind herself. The first step was to make a communication system that didn’t involve words. With their heads taped together, they couldn’t turn their heads so Joyce could look around, but she tried her best within the limits the tape imposed.
Bridget remained calm and had the attentiveness of a student who was learning from a renowned master of a trade and willing to do anything in order to gain the most from the instruction. When Joyce lifted their heavily bound non-dominant arms and pointed to the right. With a deep breath, Bridget began slowly stepping in that direction until Joyce lowered her arm.
Nichole, Jenny, Joy, and, virtually, Casey watched their candidates move along with great interest. They could tell that Joyce was instructing Bridget; more importantly, the rower trusted Joyce’s instructions and was carefully following her suggestions. In a few minutes, Bridget slowly waddled herself and her fellow captive out of the room into the main living space.
There was something strangely comforting about Joyce that Bridget had never felt in another person besides Joy. While she believed that all were good people, there was a different approach to life from these two in how they controlled their emotions while the other two and herself could easily get excited with these games. With Joyce at the helm, this game was actually quite a bit of fun, and for the first time Bridget truly felt at home with her roommates.
“Look at them go. You got this!” Casey couldn't resist an encouraging word.
“It's working. Feel Bridget’s peace?” Joy whispered to Nichole.
“Do I ever. She's… I judged her and was wrong.”
“No worries. I can't wait to see what things will be like in 3 months,” Joy smiled.
“Joyce is really good at this 'nonverbal communication’ stuff,” Jenny remarked.
“They're pretty amazing,” Casey agreed.
Joyce’s plan had been a resounding success. She and Bridget continued to work together, albeit a bit blindly, until they reached the door. Joyce then took over the bulk of the work with an order to “Thtoh!” and began searching for the scissors with her dominant hand. It was one thing to grab them; it was another thing to get them to face the correct direction; it was horribly difficult to open them, get them under the zip, and cut the zip.
SNAP!
“Yeth!”
With her hand free, Joyce first cut the tape holding their faces together and then pulled the blindfold off Bridget's head and threw it aside. Bridget took over the cutting of the zip ties, and Joyce pulled the plastic devils off their bodies along the way. The only part that was a struggle to cut was their non-dominant arms; the ridiculous number of zips used did not make it impossible to get free though. With a careful, professional touch, Bridget snipped through the tape on their faces without snipping any skin or either of the bandanas that jammed the rubber into their mouths. They unpeeled the tape and then unknotted the ball gags to finish their escape.
“Ta da!” Bridget turned and faced her… new friend Joy, maybe new friends.
“Many thanks!” Joyce took some bows while the audience applauded.
“Well, girls,” Joy stood in between two former captives, “How’d they do?”
“Awesome,” Jenny said and gave two thumbs up, and Casey agreed.
“Stupendous performance!” Nichole beamed with pride.
“Then, with the agreement we have, it's my absolute joy,” Joy snickered, “Sorry, it's my first time doing this… to proclaim you two members of the Cool Girls’ Club. I have sent you both an invitation to join our private Facebook group. Welcome to our circle of friends.”
Joy opened her arms and got an instinctive hug from Joyce. Joy looked at Joyce, and they looked at Bridget. The rower froze a little when they made a little space for her to join the hug. After a moment, she concluded that these were the kind of friends she had been seeking all her life, and she slowly stepped into the hug as well. She didn't need TUGs, but that was a nice bonus on top of the godsend that was this group of fine young ladies.
THE END
Roomies Part 4 (FFF/FF)
That evening, with all except Joyce now in their pajamas, the members of the Cool Girls’ Club held a private meeting in the bedroom shared by Joy and Joyce. It had been years since Joy had been formally inducted, and they wanted to be sure that they abided by the same rules. This meant it was time to return to a document from years past as well: The Cool Girls’ Club Minnesota Constitution of 2011.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AWu ... sp=sharing
“Are we agreed on how to do this?” Joy asked her friends.
“Perhaps as Vice President, Casey should be invited to Facetime one of us to watch?” Nichole suggested.
“Sure! I’ll text her right now!” Jenny gladly did it, “If we’ve got a plan, we have to bring it to Joyce and Bridget and make sure they agree.
“Let’s go,” Joy opened the door.
Out stepped three girls in pajamas of different natures. Jenny had flannel; Nichole had fleece; and Joy had regular cotton fabric. They were opposed by the increasingly surprising Bridget Sjaastad, whose pajamas were simply her underwear accompanied by a pair of red spandex athletic shorts. In contrast, Joyce still wore the beige denim knee skirt and brown leggings she had been wearing all day, and her hair was still held back by the pink fabric elastic headband. Now she had a pink t-shirt as well though.
“Are you sure you don't want pajamas?” Joy asked Joyce.
“I'm sure of it. Just trust me,” the Italian girl cleaned her glasses.
“All right, we have agreed on this. I have Casey on Facetime; my phone is plugged in and good to go long term,” Jenny smiled, “Hey, VP, how are you?”
“Good. And I see you have some new friends!”
“Yes, we do, and that's why we're calling,” Jenny explained.
“Oh, tell me about it.”
In keeping with tradition, the proposal was for an escape challenge of a different kind from any other that had been done. Since Joyce and Bridget were about the same size, they were going to be zip tied together, back to back, gagged, and blindfolded. They would have to work together to be able to escape it. Joyce kept stoically cleaning her glasses and checking until there was no dirt, but Bridget seemed less sure about it and squirmed a lot.
Bridget saw now the trap that had been brilliantly laid for her now and before. It all had been a scheme on Joy or Joyce’s part. Grabbing Jenny and Nichole earlier was a tool to get her to play a game with her roommates and their friends when she had been reticent to such things. Now, they wanted her to cooperate with Joyce on escaping an extremely difficult situation. She had been pushed into an alliance with Joy, and now she was being nudged toward one with Joyce. But…
Bridget really did have fun before. She enjoyed spanking Nichole and Jenny. She did like Joy once she saw her behaving more naturally around people she had known for a long time and trusted. Jenny was more than a spaz monkey; there was a likable girl like the one currently leading the present proceedings.
“No one is forcing you girls. We can deliberate something else,” Jenny's friendly smile was strangely inviting.
“I'm fine with it,” Joyce put her glasses back on, “Bridgie?”
“Ummmmm,” Bridget wasn't sure about this, but she trusted Jenny, “OK.”
“Then we'll go into Joy’s bedroom,” Nichole pointed in a way that calmed Bridget.
“No problemo,” Joyce stood up, “Let's do this, Bridgie!”
“Here goes nothing!”
Joyce and Bridget were stood facing each other while in their bare feet. Since Bridget was right handed and Joyce was left handed, that arm pair would be tied differently. The dominant arm's were simply zipped together at the wrist; the non-dominant arms were zipped at not just the wrists but also 4 other points along the forearm, 3 along the upper arms, and each finger of their hands to make those arms completely useless.
The two were zipped at their armpits, 6 points along their thighs, 5 along their lower legs, and 8 along their torsos. Now, their boobs were crushed against each other. Blue rubber balls with handkerchiefs through the holes were the first gag layer; 8 layers of duct tape were the second layer; wrapping their faces together, with care to not grab any hair, was the third layer. Bridget was blindfolded with a yellow bandana, and Joyce had her glasses removed.
“By the front door, hanging from a string, is a pair of scissors. You have to get them,” Jenny explained as Club President, “Have fun.”
Because of the slight height difference, Joyce’s feet were really not touching the ground, which meant Bridget had to do the walking while being guided by a girl who couldn't see without her glasses. The rower was walking blindly, but it wasn’t too difficult even though she was walking for two. In fact, she was surprised by how easy it was! She knew this apartment well enough to wander around to…
CRACK!
“OWWWWWW!” Joyce wailed as her head smashed on the bunk bed.
“Uh hahhen? Oythe?!”
CRACK!
“EEEEEEE!” the girl scout and escapist squealed, “On’h ohe!”
“Ah han’h unherhan hou,” Bridget tried to talk.
Gag talking like this was completely new to Joyce, and Bridget wasn’t used to these new rubber ball gags that Joy and Joyce had gotten from the TUG Sorority. Neither one of them could do much about that, though, as gags hadn’t been discussed before they had been tied up. Could this really be called “tied up,” or were they just simply “bound and gagged”? Joyce had never been tied with anything but rope except when the sorority had duct taped her during the “initiation” process, known in common English as a “hazing ritual.” Bridget stopped moving and waited for the normally calm girl to stop her fiery gag-talk diatribe to talk to her fellow captive.
“Ithen hoo he. Halnhy hell he where hoo ho,” Bridget took over.
“Ohay, ohay… ah’m ihhenin.”
“Hell he where hoo ho.”
Joyce tried to look around for something big and obvious that she could easily identify without her glasses, which was easy except that she couldn’t see behind herself. The first step was to make a communication system that didn’t involve words. With their heads taped together, they couldn’t turn their heads so Joyce could look around, but she tried her best within the limits the tape imposed.
Bridget remained calm and had the attentiveness of a student who was learning from a renowned master of a trade and willing to do anything in order to gain the most from the instruction. When Joyce lifted their heavily bound non-dominant arms and pointed to the right. With a deep breath, Bridget began slowly stepping in that direction until Joyce lowered her arm.
Nichole, Jenny, Joy, and, virtually, Casey watched their candidates move along with great interest. They could tell that Joyce was instructing Bridget; more importantly, the rower trusted Joyce’s instructions and was carefully following her suggestions. In a few minutes, Bridget slowly waddled herself and her fellow captive out of the room into the main living space.
There was something strangely comforting about Joyce that Bridget had never felt in another person besides Joy. While she believed that all were good people, there was a different approach to life from these two in how they controlled their emotions while the other two and herself could easily get excited with these games. With Joyce at the helm, this game was actually quite a bit of fun, and for the first time Bridget truly felt at home with her roommates.
“Look at them go. You got this!” Casey couldn't resist an encouraging word.
“It's working. Feel Bridget’s peace?” Joy whispered to Nichole.
“Do I ever. She's… I judged her and was wrong.”
“No worries. I can't wait to see what things will be like in 3 months,” Joy smiled.
“Joyce is really good at this 'nonverbal communication’ stuff,” Jenny remarked.
“They're pretty amazing,” Casey agreed.
Joyce’s plan had been a resounding success. She and Bridget continued to work together, albeit a bit blindly, until they reached the door. Joyce then took over the bulk of the work with an order to “Thtoh!” and began searching for the scissors with her dominant hand. It was one thing to grab them; it was another thing to get them to face the correct direction; it was horribly difficult to open them, get them under the zip, and cut the zip.
SNAP!
“Yeth!”
With her hand free, Joyce first cut the tape holding their faces together and then pulled the blindfold off Bridget's head and threw it aside. Bridget took over the cutting of the zip ties, and Joyce pulled the plastic devils off their bodies along the way. The only part that was a struggle to cut was their non-dominant arms; the ridiculous number of zips used did not make it impossible to get free though. With a careful, professional touch, Bridget snipped through the tape on their faces without snipping any skin or either of the bandanas that jammed the rubber into their mouths. They unpeeled the tape and then unknotted the ball gags to finish their escape.
“Ta da!” Bridget turned and faced her… new friend Joy, maybe new friends.
“Many thanks!” Joyce took some bows while the audience applauded.
“Well, girls,” Joy stood in between two former captives, “How’d they do?”
“Awesome,” Jenny said and gave two thumbs up, and Casey agreed.
“Stupendous performance!” Nichole beamed with pride.
“Then, with the agreement we have, it's my absolute joy,” Joy snickered, “Sorry, it's my first time doing this… to proclaim you two members of the Cool Girls’ Club. I have sent you both an invitation to join our private Facebook group. Welcome to our circle of friends.”
Joy opened her arms and got an instinctive hug from Joyce. Joy looked at Joyce, and they looked at Bridget. The rower froze a little when they made a little space for her to join the hug. After a moment, she concluded that these were the kind of friends she had been seeking all her life, and she slowly stepped into the hug as well. She didn't need TUGs, but that was a nice bonus on top of the godsend that was this group of fine young ladies.
THE END
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
@Lucky Lottie, @harveygasson, @Mineira1986, @hafnermg, @tiedinbluetights, and anyone who reads these and just hasn't commented, what would you like to see from this thread. I have a lot of one shots going, but are there any characters you'd like to see featured in a tale that is better suited to the format of this thread with its 1-4 chapter stories?
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
tiedinbluetights
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 623
- Joined: 2 years ago
- Location: Canada
I just enjoy reading short stories where all the participants are having fun. I do enjoy longer epic stories too, but don't have much spare time to read those and therefore those longer ones are far less likely to generate a comment from me (a habit I'm trying to break). As for which character I'd like to see more of, I couldn't say: I have a lot of catch up reading to do on multiple story threads, while toying with ideas for my own stories.
Love to be tied-up I read and write stories for fun
Open to friendly PMs
(I don't do roleplays nor story requests)
I love the short and long stories both. As for who I would like to hear about more I can't decide between Bridget, Janie and Lauren, or Caleigh. So for me it's dealer's choice between those. Keep up the awesome stories!
After a long wait, @Lucky Lottie, @harveygasson, @Mineira1986, @hafnermg, @tiedinbluetights, here is Story 14 finally!
Amanda and Janie (F/f)
The first summer home from college brought an incredible emotional rush to Janie Patterson. It was the first time in her life that she realized something was off with how she viewed the world. In this sense, it was a good thing; she saw nature as a thing to be cherished. That’s why she was on the rear patio enjoying a warm summer day with her best friend, Amanda Sandoval, and her big sister, Lauren.
The themed girls were sunning themselves and wearing swimming gear and matching bandana headbands. Amanda, the first girl, had all purple with a bikini as opposed to her friend's one piece swimsuits. Janie was American flag patterned, and she also had matching wristbands. Lauren was in bright blue. Janie's hair was in a braid; Lauren’s was braided and then held in a bun; Amanda’s was in pigtails.
“What's your favorite way to play TUGs?” Amanda asked the sisters.
“Well, ‘Capture the Flag’ is my favorite,” Lauren responded.
“I think I need to pee,” Janie quickly stood up.
“Wait, wait, wait… I’m not kidnapping you today,” Lauren called her back.
“Promise?” the 6’1” girl meekly asked her older sister.
“Promise… take your seat and work on your Seminole complexion.”
Janie sat back down on her pool chair and sat staring at her sister and best friend. The trio had a strange bond because Janie was academically two years behind her sister, or equal to Amanda, despite being 17 while Amanda was 19 and Lauren was 21. They’d all been high school softball teammates though.
Janie leaned back on the pool chair and closed her eyes. Her mind didn't know how to relax. She was always thinking about something somewhere in her mind; she'd think about Calculus class while also thinking about softball. She laid there thinking about her sister and best friend and how she loved them while enjoying the chirping of the birds and the heat of the sun.
ZIP! ZIP! her wrists were fastened to the chair.
“Hey!” Janie shrieked, “You said no kidnapping!”
“I said, ‘I’m not kidnapping you today,’ not ‘No kidnapping today,’ Janie!” Lauren laughed.
“Amanda! You sneaky girl!” Janie turned to her friend, “You got me!”
“Yay! My first ever successful kidnapping!” Amanda clapped her hands.
“Now, let me go, clandestine b-tch.”
Amanda Sandoval fit right in with the Patterson girls even if she had a size deficit. It had been just earlier in this same summer than Amanda formally learned the ways of TUGs in her own right after being a witness to enough games among the sisters and their brother. Now, she was eager to prove that she'd found a way to kidnap the girls who were much bigger and stronger than she.
It was with fear that Amanda had asked the sisters why they played TUGs. She found them to be fun, strange, vicious, gentle, cruel, and caring all at once. She was friends with Janie, though, and deeply trusted by the big young girl to be the only person who did not play the games who was allowed to witness them. It was all about trust in an odd way.
Amanda had been trusted by Janie for a very long time. It was through Amanda that Janie had rediscovered her family's forgotten Roman Catholic roots, and together they enjoyed school, faith, and softball. Through these things, they grew to be best friends, friends who could count on each other when in need. When Janie hurt her knee and needed surgery, Amanda spent two nights being Janie's nurse; when Amanda’s family had a stressful period related to Amanda’s big brother, Janie stayed awake until 3AM to help Amanda calm down enough to fall asleep.
Now, Amanda was zipping the girl who at college was called “Gangsta Jock” by all of her closest friends, her TUG buddies. From the day she had first seen Janie grabbed by one of her siblings, Amanda had wanted to somehow grab Janie and tie her up. It had taken a long time for her to reconcile the differences between cruelty and love in the rope games before understanding that a good game, consensual or not, involved a mutual desire to have fun.
“For a minor, you have a dirty mouth,” Lauren said, “Should I go get your socks from the bedroom?”
“Like I can stop you,” Janie tensed up, grew leery, and watched more zips bind her.
“I think you should,” Amanda grinned, “She is a potty mouth.”
“I’m in f-cking college! I can say whatever the hell I want!”
“Someone's just testy because she's horny and I deleted Joey Franklin's number from her phone,” Amanda then hand gagged Janie.
“Ha ha!” Lauren laughed at that, “Oh, I’m surprised she didn't hogtie you, tie weights to you, and drop you in the pool.”
“Mmmmmmmmmm!” Janie yelled into her friend's hand.
“You're flawed, Janie, but we still see that big beautiful heart.”
Janie didn't receive much love at home from the siblings’ mother. She coped in a bad way: sex. Janie had a massive body count for a college freshman. No one knew more than Amanda, the only friend to whom Janie truly confided her love of sex. She felt it was something that her mother couldn't take away from her. She confided such things to Amanda knowing they were wrong and that her best friend would pray for her and, if necessary, protect her.
“Here you go. Janie loves a dirty sock gag, especially when they're her own after she has worked hard and accumulated tons of sweat. Right, sis?” Lauren loving gazed into her sister's eyes.
“Mmm hmm,” Janie couldn't lie to Lauren ever, and Lauren loved to exploit it.
“Good thing we worked hard this morning before we got to relax!”
“I think I’d barf if you did that to me,” Amanda shuddered at the thought.
“Janie's an adventurous girl though!” Lauren kissed her sister on the forehead.
Amanda couldn't deny her jealousy. She felt like that despite the parental issues that the Patterson siblings really loved each other as siblings should. Her only brother, her only sibling, was 8 years her senior, so she didn't have any emotional connection with him. Not that she wanted one. It was a strange jealousy, though, that manifested as a fixation with being around the siblings and experiencing their relationships as much as she could.
Being a witness to the bondage games was at first concerning to Amanda, but she put her friendship with Janie first and accepted these games for years before she’d asked if she could formally be instructed in it. In fact, Amanda and TUGs went back to the original tit-for-tat between Janie and Lauren that had solidified TUG in their lives.
Into Janie’s mouth went the socks. A green bandana held the socks in her mouth, and 7 layers of duct tape ensured the gag stayed in place. Zips held her arms and legs at each available gap in the weaving of the beach chair on which Janie reclined. They hadn't yet discovered jumbo zips, but there were longer ones that Amanda used on her best friend's torso. Even Janie's neck was gently zipped in place.
“Out of the sun with you. Can't have you getting TUG tan lines,” Amanda laughed.
“Mmmmm!” Janie nodded in agreement before grimacing at the taste of her own feet.
“Awww, too bad I didn't bring socks, but Lauren did!”
“No no!” Janie shook her head, but the socks covered her nose.
“Enjoy it, because I know you will,” Amanda used blue vet wrap to hold it.
“Mmmm!” now the captive couldn't shake it.
The bandana part of the gag had been left exposed, and Amanda knotted it even more tightly and tied it around the chair’s weaving. A red bandana blindfolded Janie; it was double knotted around the weaving like the gag. Janie was immobilized, and as much as she was struggling and whining Amanda knew the big girl loved it.
Lauren studied her former teammate’s work with the zip ties and found the work to be impressive. Amanda had gone for overkill, but more importantly in her desire to be a kidnapper after all these years she went for a fail-proof method rather than risk ropes where she was relatively inexperienced and would need Lauren's help to be able to tie up Janie.
“Why did you take down this big, strong girl?” Lauren asked, “Was there a motive?”
“I just wanted to say I did it because Janie loves it so much,” Amanda smiled.
“You've been a blessing to her, Amanda; you really changed her life.”
“I’ve,” Amanda's fingers approached Janie's ribs, “been blessed just as much.”
“Nothing like sucking on the taste of your own feet while smelling another's feet.”
“Except being forced to enjoy it as Toe Juice Concentrate and Toe Juice Perfume.”
“Gah!” Janie yelled at the finger invasion.
Amanda had never taken control of a situation like this before. It was actually quite a bit of fun to be running her fingers along Janie’s ribs and belly even if the swimsuit reduced the access she had to the actual bones and skin. The best payoff was Janie’s loud cackling into the disgusting gag.
Janie had confided all of her love to her best friend over the years, including her love of the dirty laundry gags such as the one she had now, and she was getting a big forced taste of her own feet all while being mercilessly tickled under the approving gaze of her big sister. Amanda felt that it was a privilege to have the big girl’s friendship as few truly could understand and appreciate the complexity of the super intelligent girl. Once you got to know Janie, you knew that her life was a struggle and that reciprocating affection was hard for her. Mothers are supposed to teach their children these things, and Janie had from before her birth been shown zero love.
Amanda felt bad, but she understood the challenges and embraced them because inside Janie was a girl that was sweet, considerate, kind, and loyal. Lauren was unwaveringly and vocally loyal, but her little sister had that same loyalty even if she didn’t voice it. Lauren’s loyalty to Janie was incomparable to any other sisterly relationship. The way Lauren protected Janie was astounding to a girl who’d had a normal childhood.
That’s why tickling Janie was such fun. When things were done with a good nature, she would express her happiness in a large way which in turn made everyone else happier. Despite Janie’s outward happiness, inside was a girl who was extremely self-critical and negative, and both of the girls cherished the merits of their friendship. In a sense, Amanda was that person to whom Janie first learned how to reciprocate her love in a way that she failed to do with Lauren. There was joy in the air.
“Mwah! I love you, Janie!” Amanda kissed Janie on the cheek while tickling the captive.
“Mmmmmmmm!” groaned the captive.
“You mean so much to this girl,” Lauren grinned, “I love it!”
“I’ve been her friend for over 7 years; I’m not quitting,” Amanda sat on Janie and leaned back.
“Mmmmmm!” Janie couldn’t stop her.
“You have a weird thing for dirty laundry, you two.”
“It’s the humiliation. She’d be acting similarly to your bikini in her mouth.”
“This is more disgusting for sure. Lauren, I have an idea! Help me!”
Together, they picked up the pool chair. Amanda and Lauren turned it upside down, and then, with a loud shriek from Janie, they dunked it into the pool and pulled it out. They repeated this once for every year of Janie’s life. The water loosened the duct tape enough for Janie to loosen her gag.
As they put the chair down, Janie worked the gag off and spat out the socks. A wet bandana was a stretchy bandana, and this gave Janie enough stretch to accomplish this much. She couldn’t see and, as such, couldn’t have her emotions read when she spoke.
“Dirty, nasty, and so freaking good! Now, let me go, ‘Manda, before I out you!”
“Out me? Out… me?! Of what? Hmmm?” Amanda gently tickled Janie.
“That you have the hots for my brother!”
“Outed. I will let you go conditionally. You must agree to the conditions without hearing them.”
“Sh-t. All right,” Janie groaned, “What are they?”
“You have Lauren’s socks in your mouth and stay gagged while we play video games in which the losing Patterson girl sleeps tied up in a bikini of her own choice since I’m not spending the night. Give you two something to play for.”
“All right,” a smile formed on Janie’s face, “I sometimes think God wants us to be friends.”
“Think? No,” Amanda grabbed Lauren’s socks, “I know it.”
“BLEGH!”
It was a simple summer adventure, but it was one all three cherished as Amanda’s first ever TUG kidnapping.
THE END
Amanda and Janie (F/f)
The first summer home from college brought an incredible emotional rush to Janie Patterson. It was the first time in her life that she realized something was off with how she viewed the world. In this sense, it was a good thing; she saw nature as a thing to be cherished. That’s why she was on the rear patio enjoying a warm summer day with her best friend, Amanda Sandoval, and her big sister, Lauren.
The themed girls were sunning themselves and wearing swimming gear and matching bandana headbands. Amanda, the first girl, had all purple with a bikini as opposed to her friend's one piece swimsuits. Janie was American flag patterned, and she also had matching wristbands. Lauren was in bright blue. Janie's hair was in a braid; Lauren’s was braided and then held in a bun; Amanda’s was in pigtails.
“What's your favorite way to play TUGs?” Amanda asked the sisters.
“Well, ‘Capture the Flag’ is my favorite,” Lauren responded.
“I think I need to pee,” Janie quickly stood up.
“Wait, wait, wait… I’m not kidnapping you today,” Lauren called her back.
“Promise?” the 6’1” girl meekly asked her older sister.
“Promise… take your seat and work on your Seminole complexion.”
Janie sat back down on her pool chair and sat staring at her sister and best friend. The trio had a strange bond because Janie was academically two years behind her sister, or equal to Amanda, despite being 17 while Amanda was 19 and Lauren was 21. They’d all been high school softball teammates though.
Janie leaned back on the pool chair and closed her eyes. Her mind didn't know how to relax. She was always thinking about something somewhere in her mind; she'd think about Calculus class while also thinking about softball. She laid there thinking about her sister and best friend and how she loved them while enjoying the chirping of the birds and the heat of the sun.
ZIP! ZIP! her wrists were fastened to the chair.
“Hey!” Janie shrieked, “You said no kidnapping!”
“I said, ‘I’m not kidnapping you today,’ not ‘No kidnapping today,’ Janie!” Lauren laughed.
“Amanda! You sneaky girl!” Janie turned to her friend, “You got me!”
“Yay! My first ever successful kidnapping!” Amanda clapped her hands.
“Now, let me go, clandestine b-tch.”
Amanda Sandoval fit right in with the Patterson girls even if she had a size deficit. It had been just earlier in this same summer than Amanda formally learned the ways of TUGs in her own right after being a witness to enough games among the sisters and their brother. Now, she was eager to prove that she'd found a way to kidnap the girls who were much bigger and stronger than she.
It was with fear that Amanda had asked the sisters why they played TUGs. She found them to be fun, strange, vicious, gentle, cruel, and caring all at once. She was friends with Janie, though, and deeply trusted by the big young girl to be the only person who did not play the games who was allowed to witness them. It was all about trust in an odd way.
Amanda had been trusted by Janie for a very long time. It was through Amanda that Janie had rediscovered her family's forgotten Roman Catholic roots, and together they enjoyed school, faith, and softball. Through these things, they grew to be best friends, friends who could count on each other when in need. When Janie hurt her knee and needed surgery, Amanda spent two nights being Janie's nurse; when Amanda’s family had a stressful period related to Amanda’s big brother, Janie stayed awake until 3AM to help Amanda calm down enough to fall asleep.
Now, Amanda was zipping the girl who at college was called “Gangsta Jock” by all of her closest friends, her TUG buddies. From the day she had first seen Janie grabbed by one of her siblings, Amanda had wanted to somehow grab Janie and tie her up. It had taken a long time for her to reconcile the differences between cruelty and love in the rope games before understanding that a good game, consensual or not, involved a mutual desire to have fun.
“For a minor, you have a dirty mouth,” Lauren said, “Should I go get your socks from the bedroom?”
“Like I can stop you,” Janie tensed up, grew leery, and watched more zips bind her.
“I think you should,” Amanda grinned, “She is a potty mouth.”
“I’m in f-cking college! I can say whatever the hell I want!”
“Someone's just testy because she's horny and I deleted Joey Franklin's number from her phone,” Amanda then hand gagged Janie.
“Ha ha!” Lauren laughed at that, “Oh, I’m surprised she didn't hogtie you, tie weights to you, and drop you in the pool.”
“Mmmmmmmmmm!” Janie yelled into her friend's hand.
“You're flawed, Janie, but we still see that big beautiful heart.”
Janie didn't receive much love at home from the siblings’ mother. She coped in a bad way: sex. Janie had a massive body count for a college freshman. No one knew more than Amanda, the only friend to whom Janie truly confided her love of sex. She felt it was something that her mother couldn't take away from her. She confided such things to Amanda knowing they were wrong and that her best friend would pray for her and, if necessary, protect her.
“Here you go. Janie loves a dirty sock gag, especially when they're her own after she has worked hard and accumulated tons of sweat. Right, sis?” Lauren loving gazed into her sister's eyes.
“Mmm hmm,” Janie couldn't lie to Lauren ever, and Lauren loved to exploit it.
“Good thing we worked hard this morning before we got to relax!”
“I think I’d barf if you did that to me,” Amanda shuddered at the thought.
“Janie's an adventurous girl though!” Lauren kissed her sister on the forehead.
Amanda couldn't deny her jealousy. She felt like that despite the parental issues that the Patterson siblings really loved each other as siblings should. Her only brother, her only sibling, was 8 years her senior, so she didn't have any emotional connection with him. Not that she wanted one. It was a strange jealousy, though, that manifested as a fixation with being around the siblings and experiencing their relationships as much as she could.
Being a witness to the bondage games was at first concerning to Amanda, but she put her friendship with Janie first and accepted these games for years before she’d asked if she could formally be instructed in it. In fact, Amanda and TUGs went back to the original tit-for-tat between Janie and Lauren that had solidified TUG in their lives.
Into Janie’s mouth went the socks. A green bandana held the socks in her mouth, and 7 layers of duct tape ensured the gag stayed in place. Zips held her arms and legs at each available gap in the weaving of the beach chair on which Janie reclined. They hadn't yet discovered jumbo zips, but there were longer ones that Amanda used on her best friend's torso. Even Janie's neck was gently zipped in place.
“Out of the sun with you. Can't have you getting TUG tan lines,” Amanda laughed.
“Mmmmm!” Janie nodded in agreement before grimacing at the taste of her own feet.
“Awww, too bad I didn't bring socks, but Lauren did!”
“No no!” Janie shook her head, but the socks covered her nose.
“Enjoy it, because I know you will,” Amanda used blue vet wrap to hold it.
“Mmmm!” now the captive couldn't shake it.
The bandana part of the gag had been left exposed, and Amanda knotted it even more tightly and tied it around the chair’s weaving. A red bandana blindfolded Janie; it was double knotted around the weaving like the gag. Janie was immobilized, and as much as she was struggling and whining Amanda knew the big girl loved it.
Lauren studied her former teammate’s work with the zip ties and found the work to be impressive. Amanda had gone for overkill, but more importantly in her desire to be a kidnapper after all these years she went for a fail-proof method rather than risk ropes where she was relatively inexperienced and would need Lauren's help to be able to tie up Janie.
“Why did you take down this big, strong girl?” Lauren asked, “Was there a motive?”
“I just wanted to say I did it because Janie loves it so much,” Amanda smiled.
“You've been a blessing to her, Amanda; you really changed her life.”
“I’ve,” Amanda's fingers approached Janie's ribs, “been blessed just as much.”
“Nothing like sucking on the taste of your own feet while smelling another's feet.”
“Except being forced to enjoy it as Toe Juice Concentrate and Toe Juice Perfume.”
“Gah!” Janie yelled at the finger invasion.
Amanda had never taken control of a situation like this before. It was actually quite a bit of fun to be running her fingers along Janie’s ribs and belly even if the swimsuit reduced the access she had to the actual bones and skin. The best payoff was Janie’s loud cackling into the disgusting gag.
Janie had confided all of her love to her best friend over the years, including her love of the dirty laundry gags such as the one she had now, and she was getting a big forced taste of her own feet all while being mercilessly tickled under the approving gaze of her big sister. Amanda felt that it was a privilege to have the big girl’s friendship as few truly could understand and appreciate the complexity of the super intelligent girl. Once you got to know Janie, you knew that her life was a struggle and that reciprocating affection was hard for her. Mothers are supposed to teach their children these things, and Janie had from before her birth been shown zero love.
Amanda felt bad, but she understood the challenges and embraced them because inside Janie was a girl that was sweet, considerate, kind, and loyal. Lauren was unwaveringly and vocally loyal, but her little sister had that same loyalty even if she didn’t voice it. Lauren’s loyalty to Janie was incomparable to any other sisterly relationship. The way Lauren protected Janie was astounding to a girl who’d had a normal childhood.
That’s why tickling Janie was such fun. When things were done with a good nature, she would express her happiness in a large way which in turn made everyone else happier. Despite Janie’s outward happiness, inside was a girl who was extremely self-critical and negative, and both of the girls cherished the merits of their friendship. In a sense, Amanda was that person to whom Janie first learned how to reciprocate her love in a way that she failed to do with Lauren. There was joy in the air.
“Mwah! I love you, Janie!” Amanda kissed Janie on the cheek while tickling the captive.
“Mmmmmmmm!” groaned the captive.
“You mean so much to this girl,” Lauren grinned, “I love it!”
“I’ve been her friend for over 7 years; I’m not quitting,” Amanda sat on Janie and leaned back.
“Mmmmmm!” Janie couldn’t stop her.
“You have a weird thing for dirty laundry, you two.”
“It’s the humiliation. She’d be acting similarly to your bikini in her mouth.”
“This is more disgusting for sure. Lauren, I have an idea! Help me!”
Together, they picked up the pool chair. Amanda and Lauren turned it upside down, and then, with a loud shriek from Janie, they dunked it into the pool and pulled it out. They repeated this once for every year of Janie’s life. The water loosened the duct tape enough for Janie to loosen her gag.
As they put the chair down, Janie worked the gag off and spat out the socks. A wet bandana was a stretchy bandana, and this gave Janie enough stretch to accomplish this much. She couldn’t see and, as such, couldn’t have her emotions read when she spoke.
“Dirty, nasty, and so freaking good! Now, let me go, ‘Manda, before I out you!”
“Out me? Out… me?! Of what? Hmmm?” Amanda gently tickled Janie.
“That you have the hots for my brother!”
“Outed. I will let you go conditionally. You must agree to the conditions without hearing them.”
“Sh-t. All right,” Janie groaned, “What are they?”
“You have Lauren’s socks in your mouth and stay gagged while we play video games in which the losing Patterson girl sleeps tied up in a bikini of her own choice since I’m not spending the night. Give you two something to play for.”
“All right,” a smile formed on Janie’s face, “I sometimes think God wants us to be friends.”
“Think? No,” Amanda grabbed Lauren’s socks, “I know it.”
“BLEGH!”
It was a simple summer adventure, but it was one all three cherished as Amanda’s first ever TUG kidnapping.
THE END
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Love it!! I always love more Lauren and Janie!!. Good to see Amanda too!