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

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Post by Beaumains »

GreyLord wrote: 2 years ago I particularly enjoyed the judo. Sadly, I am not sure that Bree did.
Hmm, I should have been a bit more clear.
Yuna grabbed my hand to help me up after casting me on the mat. “That smile suits you. We should do this more often. Ready for a real duel?”
was supposed to signal that Bree was kinda enjoying herself. Only, due to her initial disappointment she was not even able to compete with Yuna and that (in her own narration), she did not understand yet she was having fun, I did not let her mention this herself. Maybe this was a little too dark and vague.
Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago [mention]Beaumains[/mention] Yuna teaching Bree Martial Arts is a great idea - and I liked especially the End Yuna saying to Bree that she should tie Yunas´s leg, so that it would be even fight!
Thanks, but no worries. Yuna will tie her own legs. I doubt Bree will be able to ;)
Nainur wrote: 2 years ago It is in a way a disturbing read, which is not a critic concerning the quality of the writing: I call it excellent! I very much agree to the fact that it is not vanilla and not 'gee, we are all happy together, had I only knew BDSM earlier"-stuff.
Yeah, in some way, this tale is very dark. But to defend myself, many stories on this site are much darker. So many non-consensual stuff is out there, where either the captive turns out to enjoy bondage or simply moves on as if nothing ever happened. Few mention the actual terrors and trauma someone would have from burglars tying them up, being kidnapped or sexual assault. I get it, they are (kinda messed up) fantasies, but here, I mention those (in my opinion, realistic) fears and deal with their consequencs. Maybe that's the difference? Get a random fictional story on this site, and I am sure there is at least one count of (sexual) assault and false imprisonment, only disguised as a 'game'. Many things that happen in this story to Bree are far less serious, but yet, it feels morally wrong.
Nainur wrote: 2 years ago However, Bree is still uncomfortable and rightly so: people are constantly assuming way too much. I see, why she is letting it happen. I just she will be well.
Yeah, I tried to justify the "constantly assuming way too much" by reasoning that people at the Maiden all enjoy bondage, and that guests who don't are rare, especially if they get in the inner circle and the group of regulars. They would have certain expectations wouldn't easily recognize that 'totally normal' things are actually quite extreme for others. Bree, on the other hand, is not the strongest woman imaginable, and constantly has to choose between her own limits and the warmth and means she is presented. Again, quite dark, but the amount of kindness (in words, food, shelter, company, ...) is unusual.
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Post by Nainur »

Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago ...
Yeah, in some way, this tale is very dark. But to defend myself, ...
there's no need to defend yourself. It is a brilliant story providing an interesting perspective!
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Post by Caesar73 »

Nainur wrote: 2 years ago
Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago ...
Yeah, in some way, this tale is very dark. But to defend myself, ...
there's no need to defend yourself. It is a brilliant story providing an interesting perspective!
Nainur said it all, there is no need to defend yourself in any way at all :) And considering the Darkness: Bree live is not easy and you do not sugarcoat this, so I would choose a different term instead of Darkness, I would go for realism. Bree lifes on the Street, that is not easy and you show that. There is nothing wrong with that at all, in my humble opinion. And I could name a few stories in the Adult Section which are considerably darker in tone.
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Post by GreyLord »

Your writing has significant depth, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. I did see
“That smile suits you."
but failed to give it the importance that I should. Your writing is truly excellent. It is up to us as readers to follow you.
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Post by Beaumains »

Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago Nainur said it all, there is no need to defend yourself in any way at all
Yeah, I should have chosen my words more carefully. What I meant is that I have read often that this story is dark. But, that's mostly the tone. Many stories have much cruder events. For example, in your story, often vibrators are inserted in pussies, even by the 'good guys' (and this behavior is not even condemned but treated like a nuisance). In some jurisdictions (at least the Dutch), this would be rape, and in most others at least sexual assault. This is goes much farther than anything Bree has experienced. Yet, your story is seldom called dark. The tone is often very amicable and adventurous.
GreyLord wrote: 2 years ago Your writing has significant depth, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. I did see
“That smile suits you."
but failed to give it the importance that I should. Your writing is truly excellent. It is up to us as readers to follow you.

That is not always positive. As a reader, I dislike reading the same sentence multiple times, only in different orders. I have always been taught that shorter is better, but in this case, multiple commenters missed the meaning of the end of the chapter and even interpreted it the other way. That's just my mistake. Adding references and cryptic foreshadowing not everyone will get is fine, but I should not be too dependent on readers to read every single word. This is not a literature lesson ;)
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Post by Caesar73 »

Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago
Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago Nainur said it all, there is no need to defend yourself in any way at all
For example, in your story, often vibrators are inserted in pussies, even by the 'good guys' (and this behavior is not even condemned but treated like a nuisance). In some jurisdictions (at least the Dutch), this would be rape, and in most others at least sexual assault. This is goes much farther than anything Bree has experienced. Yet, your story is seldom called dark. The tone is often very amicable and adventurous.
You are absolutely right [mention]Beaumains[/mention] - the Hunt is definitely much darker in some regards than the Tangled Maiden - there are quite a few scenes I could name.

But I think there is one major difference between our Stories, besides the tone .... I go down more the road I would call "The 007-Approach" your story is more located in a world without Heroes with superb fighting Skills. I can imagine a Character like Bree in the real world.

I hope I made myself plain :) This is meant as a compliment.
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Post by Mineira1986 »

Oh, I missed the "That smile" phrase too =(. Probably because it's between when Brie mumbles an "Okay" after being defeated and pinned, and a sentence where she says that the battles are unfair. Or maybe it's because I feel related: when I was a kid, when practicing martial arts, I was never the biggest or more experienced person there, so I got pinned easily and it felt unfair (like Brie stated) and frustrating at the beginning. So I immediately thought Brie was going through the same thing.

(I'm actually curious if Yuna restraining her legs would still be more than enough to pin Brie.)

About the tone, I actually like this story's. It's a fresh change from most stories in this site (yes, I know there are other darker stories in tone, but most of them aren't) and, like you said, most stories feature events that in real life would be really, really traumatizing; yet, they are presented in a more relaxed, amicable tone, so that changes a lot how the reader experiences them.

Keep up the good work!
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Post by Beaumains »

Mineira1986 wrote: 2 years ago Oh, I missed the "That smile" phrase too =(. Probably because it's between when Brie mumbles an "Okay" after being defeated and pinned, and a sentence where she says that the battles are unfair. Or maybe it's because I feel related: when I was a kid, when practicing martial arts, I was never the biggest or more experienced person there, so I got pinned easily and it felt unfair (like Brie stated) and frustrating at the beginning. So I immediately thought Brie was going through the same thing.
I will clarify this in the next chapter.
Mineira1986 wrote: 2 years ago (I'm actually curious if Yuna restraining her legs would still be more than enough to pin Brie.)
I would think that a traditional judo pin would be difficult as they often rely on the legs for balance. But, Yuna could easily grab Bree.

---------------------------------------------------

As if we had not wrestled and fought for two hours, Yuna dived behind the wheel of her car full of energy. “What do you want for lunch?”

“I’m good.”

“C’mon, drop the useless courtesies. Tell me what ya demand. I pay.”

“Truly, I’m good.” I ate lunch when it was offered. Two meals a day were more than sufficient. Moreover, Yuna’s judo had botched and broken my body, and a searing pain plagued my belly. It had exhausted me while for Yuna, it had been a warming-up. I had been a weak opponent, a bag of straw at most.

Yuna leaned forward. Her practically black eyes gazed down at me. “Okay, then I’ll get myself pasta. Your choice. However, I like to know, did you enjoy our practice? Give me an honest answer, and you gotta know, that answer can’t be wrong.”

I felt pressured but forced to dive into my mind, even though my words would not necessarily be truthful. It had been bizarre, incomparable to my usual pastimes, and a unique adventure but had it reached enjoyment? My muscles ached. My weakness and clumsiness had frustrated me when Yuna taunted me as if she battled a toddler, confining her power and granting me fake and undeserved victories. The sporadic moments when my arms and legs moved as my brain imagined had been exceptional, even catching the Green Viper by surprise and hurling her on the mat. Only, leaping to my fallen foe had been a mistake: Her anaconda-like arms had seized me.

But had it been enjoyable? I had little reference material. Chatting with other homeless to pass the time had been the best shared positive experience in the past few years. Once, an older homeless man and I lingered in an old, deserted, leaking caravan for three days hiding from the pouring rain. The memory made my lips curl. We played chess for 16 hours a day as we slowly burnt through my stock of beans and rice. For my own physical and mental wellbeing, I stayed far from such situations. More common were the cute and surprising reactions to my drawings. The attention and humanity Yuna had shown me had been delightful.

“And? If you prefer not to reply, that’s also fine, but I’d prefer the truth,” Yuna pushed, almost disappointed by my silence.

I sighed. Yuna would get the truth, whether she would like it or not. So I spoke. It was likely a mistake, but the worst possible outcome was being dropped on the streets and parting ways forever. Only that did not happen. Yuna climbed over the gear shift and hugged me.

I had not expected that.

“I’m sorry, Bree. I keep forgetting I’m clueless and ignorant.”

“It’s okay,” I stated. “You asked for it.” I thought as she released me. We drove to the restaurant Yuna had picked in silence.

“You really don’t want anything?”

“No thanks.”

With her pasta, Yuna continued driving until the city changed into the countryside, and she halted between two barren fields. “Again, Bree, I’m sorry,” Yuna apologized before handing me a warm cup of tea. “I hope you aren’t too angry.”

“It’s fine.”

“The reason I stopped is to explain what will happen next,” Yuna disclosed, and she squeezed my upper leg. “I’ll return you to Ambrose and Cecilia, and they will offer you to stay there. Please, accept. Trust me. They are awesome people.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me,” I replied. This was one of the first times someone bothered me to brief me. Evidently, it was already decided long ago. Had they been testing me? What did they desire from me?

“I understand you’ve little trust in people, but give them another chance, a fresh start. They want to help you and make your life worthwhile.”

I goggled at a rusty barbed-wire fence that protected a half dozen stems of corn that had survived the yearly family slaughter. I did not comprehend Yuna’s words. I would no longer be living on the streets, gathering enough food and money to survive, and be compelled to be constantly on my guard. The realist in me told me it was too good to be true. Did they want another Aoife? Another bondage toy? Sex had always been the intended currency to stay somewhere for long. Sure, I was scarred but not much worse than most homeless girls.

Directness was seldom appreciated, and no one cared about a homeless girl’s questions, but I had to break habits. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because a beautiful person hides inside you, and I want to know her.” Yuna did not miss a beat, and her words warmed my heart, even if they were lies. “Take it easy and develop a new routine. And remember, tell them when you need something and that ‘no’ is a valid response.”

I nodded. I loved the way we chatted, staring into the distance. It was easier than gazing into each others’ eyes. I wondered whether Yuna knew this. “Onto a new life,” she said, patting me on my back.



I sat down on the bed in the room on the third floor of Cecilia’s and Ambrose’s mansion. Indeed, they had suggested staying there, but even more generous, to live with them. Aoife and Rachel (apparently, that was the maid’s name) were dressed casually and looked ordinary. It was surreal. With Yuna’s blessing, I accepted. Soon, Cecilia went down an endless list of practicalities. Bank accounts, phone subscriptions, clothes, shoes, hairdressing appointments, healthcare, dentistry, driving lessons, and adult education were all proposed, but I had been overwhelmed. I could recall little details.

“Bree, your drawings are marvelous, and you should turn your talent into a career,” Ambrose had explained. “You have a unique, striking style, and fetish drawing can be very profitable. Aoife can kickstart everything, and I am sure thousands of fans will flock to you. Worth a shot?”

Watched by the family of oil paintings, I rose from the soft mattress. Ambrose had pressed bondage was voluntary but craved I would ‘learn’ bondage, both the tying and feeling what it is like to be bound. I had nodded. It was a price I was willing to pay. And now, I had to prepare for such a tie-up. Was this home?
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Post by GreyLord »

Way to go, Bree. She is in the process of making a major change in her life. Will this allow her talents as an artist to bloom? I read this as Bree being on the edge of finding a bondage lifestyle acceptable. I wish her well.
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Post by Tieup1 »

Well done Bree, now you are in a position where you can choose your future. It's up to you now, perhaps you can have the best of both worlds.
You are a talented artist, you don't have to live on the streets anymore. Come on Bree, your time has come !
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Post by Caesar73 »

I read this Chapter the same way as [mention]GreyLord[/mention] - it seems that Bree has made a decision, that will change her life. It is a big step. In my perception Bree decided to accept Bondage as part of her new life, but she seems not to crave it - yet.

The Conversation with Yuna in the Car, showed how Yuna had yet to realize how much the life on the Streets has defined Bree.
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Post by Nainur »

GreyLord wrote: 2 years ago Way to go, Bree. She is in the process of making a major change in her life. Will this allow her talents as an artist to bloom? I read this as Bree being on the edge of finding a bondage lifestyle acceptable. I wish her well.
Definitly!

Also, I like to point of Bree's - may I call it? - ineptitude to phrase her likes and dislikes, which had got her into trouble in earlier chapters. Again so realistically! I like it. But IMO it's time for Bree to go on - not necessarily literally.
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Post by Beaumains »

Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago The Conversation with Yuna in the Car, showed how Yuna had yet to realize how much the life on the Streets has defined Bree.
I have not touched Bree's personal history a lot explicitly, but it is not just living on the streets. Let me repeat a few fatcs. Her father was never part of her life, and her mother died when she was 8 in front of her. Then she moved around a lot between group houses and foster parents, often forced to change schools before ending up homeless at 16. A lot of the psychological damage, fear of commitment, and lack of self worth goes further back than her life on the streets.
Nainur wrote: 2 years ago Also, I like to point of Bree's - may I call it? - ineptitude to phrase her likes and dislikes, which had got her into trouble in earlier chapters. Again so realistically! I like it. But IMO it's time for Bree to go on - not necessarily literally.

Thanks! Maybe I post too little, but so much has happened in a few days in Bree's life. The talk with Yuna was already quite a big step in the right direction, but I doubt Bree can fix her mental problems and habits in a few days. That would take time.
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Post by DIRK »


Thanks! Maybe I post too little, but so much has happened in a few days in Bree's life. The talk with Yuna was already quite a big step in the right direction, but I doubt Bree can fix her mental problems and habits in a few days. That would take time.
It`s easy to forget the timeline of the story. I look forward to the next chapter.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Beaumains wrote: 2 years ago
Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago The Conversation with Yuna in the Car, showed how Yuna had yet to realize how much the life on the Streets has defined Bree.
I have not touched Bree's personal history a lot explicitly, but it is not just living on the streets. Let me repeat a few fatcs. Her father was never part of her life, and her mother died when she was 8 in front of her. Then she moved around a lot between group houses and foster parents, often forced to change schools before ending up homeless at 16. A lot of the psychological damage, fear of commitment, and lack of self worth goes further back than her life on the streets.
Thanks for the Summary [mention]Beaumains[/mention] :) -

I have to admit I forgot about Bree´s Past. But indeed: There must be a reason why she ended up on the Streets. Bree´s Actions are testimony for the the psychological damage she suffered along the way.
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Post by Beaumains »

The mirror smiled back as I fumbled my braided white hair.

“Dress however you wish,” Cecilia had said before sending me upstairs to rest and change. My wardrobe was limited to a handful of practical outfits, and her implicit demands were mysterious. I picked navy blue socks, long brown cargo pants, a simple black shirt, and a dark green woolen sweater. I often wore multiple sweaters, not to be too cold all day, so I already fell a little naked as I walked down the stairs wearing one.

“Nervous? No need to,” Ambrose asserted as he escorted me to the back of the house into a garage. “Remember your safewords? Then the fun can begin.”

The enormous room looked like a medieval dungeon, where a brutal king tortured his prisoners personally. A concrete floor, a high wooden ceiling, bright yellow lights, pulley systems, and brick walls gathered around the damp air. In the middle stood the invention meant to restrain me: A 6-feet-high tree trunk and a network of smaller steel rods and ropes.

“It ain’t that bad. I had to do the same last week,” Aoife commented from a corner, sitting unclothed on a red satin pillow. I had an audience.

Cecilia moved me to the tree trunk and ordered me to stand in front. “It’s an escape challenge, but to do so, you need to stay calm and concentrated,” she explained as she tightened a leather strap around my ankles, pinning them to the wood. Losing balance would mean trouble. Concrete is hard. My reason for worry vanished as she fastened more leather belts: Under my knees, above my knees, under my hip, above my hip, and two over my chest. It made my breasts pop out, almost sexually, but living with a nude beauty did not even make them recognize them.

“Are they not too tight? Is there any difference between them?” Cecilia inquired.

“I don’t think so.”

“Perfect. Relax and let your body float.”

I obeyed. My arms and head could move, but my body was stuck to the tree as if we were one entity. I did not float; the belts’ presence was ever-present, and I lost the ability to move my muscles more than I acquired the freedom of flying. Despite this unsettling truth, the straps resembling an electric chair did not hurt as my legs still carried most of my weight. I had to trust Yuna and fade these thoughts from existence. This was no torture scene from a spy story.

“One more,” Cecilia beamed as if tying me up delighted her. “Keep your head still.” Another strap wrapped itself around me, now over my forehead, and compelled me to stare forward. You okay?”

“Yeah,” I responded, unable to nod.

“Great. Only your hands remain.” Cecilia seized one and gently pushed it outwardly until I stood in a T-pose with leather cuffs locked on both my wrists. Their movement tensioned ropes in the construction before me, and I could not retract them back to my body. Not even close. Finally, she hung a chain with two keys around my neck.

“You move this platform with your arms,” Cecilia clarified, pointing at a small wooden platform at hip height. “Some ropes block it, so you cannot reach the keys and straps holding you. That’s inconvenient, isn’t it?” Cecilia mocked.

“Uh, yeah,” I answered. My black-haired host had awaited my reply. Indeed, four wires held the platform, and eight parallel ropes of various materials and diameters separated them, making it impossible to haul it up.

From her pocket, she removed a tealight, which she lit. “Stabilize it,” she instructed, and I pulled my wrists so she could place the candle down on the platform. “Don’t let it drop. Good luck.”

She left my field of vision, likely watching from the side. I took a deep breath, disheartened by the induced pressure on my ribs. My eyes focused on the flame. I experimented with pulling the platform with the slightest movements, but my free limbs trembled. The first rope was a thin, nearly invisible brown wire, and I let the fire devour it. It did not. The straw-colored menace lived among the blaze. Did I need to lower the platform? Was the space above the flames warmer than within them? I lacked the most basic science knowledge, but I could not care: a black spot was born, and the candle bore a child on top. The rope soon split and plunged like a gate opening. One was burned, seven more to go.

Number two was thick, white, and more synthetic, so I changed tactics. No longer, I maintained a slight angle in my elbows to tension the wires. Bending my arms down and keeping them straight was less stressful. I let the top of the candle tickle the bottom of the rope, clearing the way for fresh oxygen and preventing the flames from accidental smothering.

I had to be patient and let the heat be warm.

I could not speed up and was restricted to the heat of the tiny candle.

Soon, the snow-white was scorched black, and like a plague, it spread and bit in the fibers, melting them one by one. Yet, all strands of the rope survived, and even the sub-strands of the strands were barely damaged.

The task would take a while.

And, I had to wait.

I was stuck here.

There was no way to accelerate; I simply had to concentrate and control my trembling limbs. That was my current, unusual reality. I had a steady hand, a decent attention span, and was not restless. On the streets was little entertainment. Wait, why had Cecilia and Ambrose put me in this exact predicament? Did they expect me to do well? Had they fancied something creative, challenging, and beginner-friendly? Very clever. I grinned, but that moment made the candle slide to the right, which I corrected like balancing a ball on a ping-pong bat. A minute later, the white rope snapped, and dopamine rushed my brain, even though I was only a quarter of the way.

Number 3 was also white and synthetic, but it was not rope but elastic, like the stuff used in clothing. It was easy and took three minutes max but could not please me. The burned material reeked. Round 4 scared me: Thick, brown, and rough, which would be painful to the skin like sandpaper. My entire focus was aimed at the blaze and its target. Despite my arms hurting from the constant strain and the difficulties ignoring my twitching nose, I would prevail.

Then a loud bang blasted and echoed suddenly, causing me to flinch. Instinctively, I pulled my arms towards me, hauling the platform up and flipping it. My eyes pursued the tealight that flew through the air, luckily away from me.

Rachel opened the steel door she had knocked on. “Master, Mistress, it’s six o’clock, so dinner is ready.”

My heart pounded. I had stupidly failed and missed my goal again. The eyes of the girl in the maid outfit eyes screamed regret.

“Thank you, Rachel. Could you please keep it warm for about 30 minutes?” Cecilia asked calmly behind me.

“Yes, Mistress, no problem.” Rachel closed the door.

Heels clacked, and Cecilia approached me. “You were doing so well. This’s such a shame.”

I had not even considered the consequences when I messed up. I did not want to face whatever punishment Ambrose and Cecilia could come up with. “Sorry…”

“No need to apologize. This was not your fault,” she stated, fetching another tealight from her pocket. She lit it on the platform and disappeared. I returned to rope 4 and calmed myself: no whipping nor tickling. Then another realization popped into my head: I was playing with actual fire. If I had launched the tealight towards me, I would have been in serious jeopardy. The fire could burn through my socks and pants, and the hot wax could cause nasty wounds. I had been lucky, and when I realized that, the fourth rope broke.

Four more to go, and Cecilia had hinted it would cost less than half an hour. I had learned not to fear individual obstacles and treat this time as lost. With painful, stressed muscles, I had to allow the flames to enjoy their slow dance. And in this spirit, time passed quickly. Soon, the last red rope burned, enabling the platform to raise much higher. I retrieved the keys from my neck, released my wrists from the leather cuffs, and dropped the platform carefully on the concrete, extinguishing the flame. My arms could now loosen the leather straps behind the tree trunk. I unleashed my forehead, noting my stiff neck, and soon, I could step away from the wood that had been my mattress for so long.

“Well done, Bree,” Cecilia declared, holding me in her embrace. “I’m proud of you.”
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Post by GreyLord »

Very complex, [mention]Beaumains[/mention], and very sophisticated. You are introducing Bree to more and more. Well done.
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Post by slackywacky »

The problem with being away for this long, I have soo many stories that I need to read, as you guys all have been busy. It will take me some time to get there, but I will hopefully be up to speed soon.

This is one of those stories I have to catch up on...
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by Nainur »

you know, this is maybe my favourite sequence so far...!
:)
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 2 years ago Very complex, @Beaumains, and very sophisticated. You are introducing Bree to more and more. Well done.
I couldn"t agree more - I always admire your creativity [mention]Beaumains[/mention] :) It seems that Bree is settling in.

May I ask one question: You write that Bree has white hair. How old is she?
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Post by Beaumains »

GreyLord wrote: 2 years ago Very complex, [mention]Beaumains[/mention], and very sophisticated. You are introducing Bree to more and more. Well done.
Thanks a lot!
slackywacky wrote: 2 years ago The problem with being away for this long, I have soo many stories that I need to read, as you guys all have been busy. It will take me some time to get there, but I will hopefully be up to speed soon.

This is one of those stories I have to catch up on...
Great to see you return and I look forward to reading your comments again.
Nainur wrote: 2 years ago you know, this is maybe my favourite sequence so far...!
:)
Thank you very much! It was fun to write.
Caesar73 wrote: 2 years ago May I ask one question: You write that Bree has white hair. How old is she?
Bree is only 21, so still quite young. Only, due to her albinism, her hair is already white.
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Post by Mineira1986 »

Missed two updates! =(

Great development. Finally Brie is starting to look at Ambrose and Cecilia's place as home (as well as new people in her life). I'm so happy for Brie!

The following chapter... excellent descriptions. Quite imaginative escape challenge for Brie. Like Cecilia said, I'm proud for her too.

Can't wait for the next part. I so love this story.
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Post by Tieup1 »

Another well written chapter, which was quite tense at times. Getting through that ordeal will give Bree some more confidence. Maybe this is a turning point for her ? I guess we will have to wait, and see !
Beaumains
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Post by Beaumains »

Mineira1986 wrote: 2 years ago Missed two updates! =(

Great development. Finally Brie is starting to look at Ambrose and Cecilia's place as home (as well as new people in her life). I'm so happy for Brie!

The following chapter... excellent descriptions. Quite imaginative escape challenge for Brie. Like Cecilia said, I'm proud for her too.

Can't wait for the next part. I so love this story.
Ah, thank you so much for your kind words! It was a fun challenge to tinker with in my head to get it to work.

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As I plowed through apple crumble, someone shuffled behind me. I spun around, almost bumping into a pair of enormous breasts. The head above them spoke. “Eh, Bree, my apologies,” Aoife breathed. She had had dinner with Rachel for some informal time off while I had dined with Cecilia and Ambrose. “I totally forgot I owed ya for that portrait.”

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, still taken aback by the redhead. Her indifference to her exposed, nude body kept surprising me. I had nearly forgotten about my payment, half expecting the meals, bed, and ‘party’ all were part of the exchange.

Aoife handed me a plain white envelope. “Here, take this. I’ve no clue what you typically charge, so if it’s not enough, feel free to complain. Otherwise, it’s a bonus.”

“Thanks, thank you a lot,” I smiled, accepting the envelope.

“Cool, see ya later,” Aoife stated before striding away with her hands behind her back.

I fumbled the envelope into my pocket. I could restart my emergency fund.

“Aren’t you curious what you got?” Ambrose asked.

“I trust her that it’s adequate.”

“How much do you expect?”

I deduced that he anticipated or had knowledge it was a generous amount, for my standards. “I often ask somewhere between thirty and fifty for such a detailed drawing.”

The man in front of me smirked and made me feel small and vulnerable in his home. “You undersell yourself.”

“Please, open it,” Cecilia cut in.

A plea by your hosts is hard to refuse. Uncomfortable, I grasped the nicely smelling paper and tore it open, taking four notes out, each bearing the likeness of Ulysses S. Grant. All in all, 200 dollars. “This’s way too much,” I expressed politely, already considering how much this would aid me: Food for a month, a new tent, and whatever else I had lost.

“It’s not,” Ambrose disagreed. “Aoife already made twice that amount of that drawing. It gained traction.”

Cecilia beamed. “There’s a career for you in this business.”

I slid the bills back into the envelope and returned to my dessert. Complaining about the bonus would not get me anywhere. My mentioned prices were the maximum I could get, so Aoife had utilized her massive following.

“We want to take it slowly but also desire to show you our way of living and teach you the ropes.”

“So,” Cecilia interrupted her husband. “What about you tying up Aoife tonight?”

After getting the money, a subject switch to bondage was predictable, but I had not expected to do the tying. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do that.”

Cecilia chuckled. “But that’s the point! You need to learn.”



The Irish girl knelt before me, knees half a foot apart and her hands folded behind her back. She stared at my socks.

“So, what you wanna do?” Cecilia questioned from the couch.

I was stumped.

“Be imaginative,” Ambrose added. “Make it your own creation. She doesn’t bite.”

I nodded and reached in the wooden box beside me: ropes, cuffs, gags, and much else. I sighed. What was I doing? A pink rope ended up in my hands, and I untangled it. It had to be mended in a solid shape, plastered around Aoife’s limbs. I could never do that. I could lace my shoes, but that’s it, and trying would only culminate in a chaotic clutter.

Cuffs? The chains clattered between my fingers, and I studied the half-moons that could restrict a limb forever. What could I do with them? A hogtie was a possibility like Yuna’s the day before yesterday: Wrists together, ankles together, and connect those behind her back. Nah, that was too simple and uncreative, and besides, Cecilia and Ambrose had instructed me to tie Aoife up. Cuffs cannot tie. I also placed them back.

Then, my eyes spotted a third option on the bottom of the box. The cotton bandanas in red and black were likely meant as gags as I had seen them being used similarly earlier. But, they could also bind Aoife. With two windings and a knot, it would be stuck, and within that little knot, there was little technique. I could not mess this up. I selected four of them and shoved the box aside. I glanced at my powerless yet seemingly volitional victim. What’s next?

I scrambled for ideas. “Eh, could you please grab your ankles?” I requested, regretting instantly. I had no plan. Often, the hands were tied behind the back, right? Had I already broken the first rule?

Without hesitation or looking up, Aoife clutched her ankles while still kneeling. She had awaited this moment.

“Uh, sorry, my bad, I meant that you sit down,” I bluffed.

Aoife complied, landing on her ass and showing me I was still ambiguous. First, Her hands moved outside her legs and gripped her ankles from the outside. Then her elbows rested against her thighs and forced her hand outside her ankles, exposing her vagina casually.

“Keep them inside your thighs, then cross them,” I commanded as if it had been my plan all along. Or well, said, as I was not very persuasive, like the employees of the Tangled Maiden had been. I felt dirty, not having realized how much I exposed her clit.

Aoife obeyed, and I wound a red bandana around her right ankle and left hand. Her limps were quite slim, and I preferred evading her bare skin. That was weird. So, keeping my hands on the red fabric, I wound it around them another time, tensioned it, and waved it around the knot once. Cinching, that was called. I tied the two ends together, and they stayed together. But then disaster struck. Through the green woolen sweater, my elbow scraped something. Aoife’s arms squeezed her breasts together, and I had pressured them too. I pulled away.

“I, … I am sorry. It was an accident. I…”

“It’s permitted,” Aoife cut me off. She had not openly spoken since giving me the envelope. She fulfilled her role and rules dutifully but broke character now. “No need to apologize. If I feared you touching me, I would not be sitting here. Come here.” The fingers of her free hand clenched my wrist and moved it, letting my open hand press against her breast. Her puppy eyes sparkled. “Feel it. Squeeze it. That’s all fair game.”

Not to be rude, I did it gently. Never having touched any other boob than my own, the rigidness surprised me. Aoife did not even blink. I nodded and withdrew: Back to the bondage. I had no intention to get a glimpse of Cecilia and Ambrose watching us. I repositioned such that I could impossibly brush her boobs again, bound her other hand to the ankle as well, and linked the crossed wrists for good measure.

I took a step back, judging the result. Aoife was helpless, unable to get loose, but that did not bother her. She was relaxed, and her eyes twinkled. Ambrose raised his thumb in approval. Or well, a Houdini would escape, but for a first attempt, it could be worse.

“You could add accessories,” Cecilia suggested. “A gag, blindfold, earplugs, nipple clamps, anything you like.”

The entire idea of nipple clamps horrified me. I would not do that to anyone, so I would only gag Aoife. I did not want to hurt or discomfort her. I laid a knot in the last bandana and pushed that knot in Aoife’s mouth (she cooperated pleasingly) and fastened it.

“Looks great, girl,” Cecilia laughed. “Give her a cushion to rest on, and then you are golden.”

“And, eh, now what?” I inquired after sliding the dog pillow to her.

“Just wait. Release her in an hour or so if she’s good.”

“Otherwise, you should punish her,” Ambrose warned. I would not.
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

That was so delightful to read [mention]Beaumains[/mention] :) My favourite Part the first Third. Aoife offering payment to Bree and the Surprise of Bree when she opened the envelope. She seems still not used to her new world, because she thinks about using the money as the foundation for her Saftey Deposit, which was stolen from her a couple of chapters ago.

Also very well written: Her Hesitation what materials she should use to tie up Aoife.

But it seems that Bree is adjusting step by step to her new life.
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