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

[Caesar73]

“My head hurts,” was my first thought when I woke. Like a chick aching to break out its eggshell, waves of sharp pain bounced against the inside of my skull.

I opened my eyes and saw nothing but an endless pit of a black void. Even the faintest of lights of electronic appliances lacked in my vision.

I attempted to drag my heels towards my bottoms to stretch them. Zero; My legs were squeezed together and held down by something. Then I noticed I was blindfolded.

“Had I been mistaken?” I asked myself. “Why had I trusted her? It was quite the strategy to lure me into their trust and then betray me when I was vulnerable and alone. Why had I mailed these people? My internal rules forbade couch surfing, I could have undoubtedly survived the night in that park, and I bloody well know what they do in their games. Nonetheless, her hug had been so tender when she had picked me up.”

When I had read that Paragraph, I thougt at first, that Bree had been kidnapped - well done! That was not the case was nice surprise. Yuna shows much kindness to Bree, and it is good that she does not need to spend Thanksgiving at the Street.

[GreyLord]

Somehow, I missed that Bree is an albino. It is not important, of course. She really wants people to have what they want. So she is going to let Yuna tie her up again. I don't sense that Bree is against that in any way except for her natural fears. What an interesting scenario you have created. Thank you, [mention]Beaumains[/mention].

[Beaumains]

When I had read that Paragraph, I thougt at first, that Bree had been kidnapped - well done! That was not the case was nice surprise. Yuna shows much kindness to Bree, and it is good that she does not need to spend Thanksgiving at the Street.

Thanks! That was exactly my intension. Yuna indeed acts kind, but that request for a tie-up in that leotard is clearly also for personal gain.

Somehow, I that Bree is an albino. It is not important, of course. She really wants people to have what they want. So she is going to let Yuna tie her up again. I don't sense that Bree is against that in any way except for her natural fears. What an interesting scenario you have created. Thank you, [mention]Beaumains[/mention].

Thanks a lot! Although I don't get your first sentence (I suppose a verb like 'like' or 'hate' is missing), I have to correct you: In some way, her albinism is important as Bree feels she is an outsider and is treated differently due to her appearance. It will also have consequences later on. But mostly I made that decision because I had written 'blonde', 'brunette', et cetera many times already, and albinism and bondage seemed like an interesting, almost unexplored combination.

If Bree would have disliked the bondage, then the story would have been dead, so I kinda had to surpress her reluctance.

[GreyLord]

[mention]Beaumains[/mention], my post should have read, "I missed that Bree is an albino." Beg pardon.

[Beaumains]

[mention]Beaumains[/mention], my post should have read, "I missed that Bree is an albino." Beg pardon.

No problem. That makes sense. I often read stories here and forget about the appearance of the characters. It's hard to keep up and quite the art to write that well without repeating yourself too often.

[Mineira1986]

Woof.

Gladly, it was Yuna. Nice ellipsis there, making tension about who was the person who picked up Bree. Nice for her to have a well deserved break, considering the events from the previous nights.

After all, allowing herself into a bondage session with Yuna back at the inn paid off: now she has a friend (a friend who wants to tie her up, but at least respect her boundaries).

[Tieup1]

Yuna treats Bree well, and will be lucky enough to tie her up. But, I still think, she is possibly using Bree, is it for herself, or for others, I don't know. Perhaps Bree should be on her guard, she must try and stay in control of her own destiny.

[slackywacky]

> You’re my guest and not a burden.

Still have that nagging feeling that there is a twist coming in this story... or maybe I am just paranoid today
Great update, very well conceived and written. Glad you had the time.

[GreyLord]

...Still have that nagging feeling that there is a twist coming in this story... or maybe I am just paranoid today ...

Just remember, [mention]slackywacky[/mention]. Just because you are not paranoid doesn't mean that they are not out to get you.

[slackywacky]

Just because you are not paranoid doesn't mean that they are not out to get you.

True, very true.

[Beaumains]

Woof.

Gladly, it was Yuna. Nice ellipsis there, making tension about who was the person who picked up Bree. Nice for her to have a well deserved break, considering the events from the previous nights.

After all, allowing herself into a bondage session with Yuna back at the inn paid off: now she has a friend (a friend who wants to tie her up, but at least respect her boundaries).

Thanks a lot! Sometimes it is fun to play with these stylistic devices. Only, for Bree this Thanksgiving will be everything but stressful.

Yuna treats Bree well, and will be lucky enough to tie her up. But, I still think, she is possibly using Bree, is it for herself, or for others, I don't know. Perhaps Bree should be on her guard, she must try and stay in control of her own destiny.

I like to keep the fine balance between good and bad intentions for now. Bree should be indeed in control of her own destiny, but at the moment, she lacks the resources and skills to get herself of the street alone. So, at some point, others have to jump in and help her.

> You’re my guest and not a burden.

Still have that nagging feeling that there is a twist coming in this story... or maybe I am just paranoid today
Great update, very well conceived and written. Glad you had the time.

Thanks a lot! Would building up towards a twist and letting it unfold into an anticlimax also count as a twist then? The next few parts will only contain content that I already promised, only sometimes between the lines.
-----------------------------------------
The sky blue cushions of Yuna’s couch hugged my face as her hands gripped my elbows and pulled them together behind my back. With a bursting stomach, brushed teeth, and bearing nothing more than that artsy, skimpy leotard, I had no reasons left to postpone the tie-up.

“You’re flexible, but I won’t push them together as that could be painful,” my hostess remarked. She had bound my wrists already, limiting my movements to flopping like a walrus. The black ropes contrasted with my milky skin.

I kept calm and ordered my body to believe Yuna that it was safe and harmless, but it was begging me to jump up and dash away. Soon, the two limps that could carry my weight during the escape would be fastened as well. “Something standard: a hogtie.” had been the vague summary of my future predicament as if these people named different techniques to tie others up. She was cunning as having me eat breakfast in the leotard to make me comfortable before moving to the bondage had shown.

“Is this too tight?”

“No, no, I can deal with this,” I spoke into the cushions.

“Great. Your legs are next, so keep them still,” Yuna smirked as she tapped my shoulder. I could not defend myself. She entangled two more ropes and circled them around my ankles and above my knees. First, I had deemed the second unnecessary, but it plastered my legs together and nihilated my legs’ reduced independence. Now only my toes and feet enjoyed that privilege.

“So far, it has been fine, hasn’t it? Does anything hurt?”

I was stuck in a stranger’s apartment, so the little pride I had left had been destroyed already. I had lost my freedom to make my own decisions, which was among the most treasured things I owned. “No.”

“So you’re snug? Nothing bites into your skin, and your toes and fingers don’t tingle.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll close the hogtie. Relax your muscles and enjoy the ride.”

Yuna attached a rope to my ankles before pulling them backward. I had expected them to meet my bottoms and that the rope would be fixed to my thighs, but then my elbows were tugged upward. Yuna jerked the rope again and tensioned my back while my ankles were forced forward and my shoulders up.

“What do you reckon?” Yuna grinned after securing the rope. “Does this make you feel like a pretty princess held helplessly in a high tower, or can you escape?”

Escape? I laughed inwardly at the foolish concept. I had no muscle to tension nor a knot to seize. The only possibility, the ankle rope, would be dangling outside my fingers’ reach. So, yeah, I was helpless. “I’m stuck.”

“Does it hurt? Otherwise, I’ll untie you.”

“No, not really, but it’s uncanny.”

“What do you mean?”

Talking was arduous because I had to raise my head. “I, uh, don’t like it.”

Yuna said down on her couch, bumping me up. “Do you feel unsafe? Are you afraid?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled and regretted it. Yuna had picked me up in the middle of the night, and I disrespected her.

“You went through a lot, but may I dare you to persist? Just as an exercise in trust,” Yuna inquired as she placed her palm on my lower back. She caressed it while awaiting my unavoidable concession. It had not been much of a question. “Then I’ll gag you for the full experience and release you after thirty minutes. I still gotta decorate my cake. Okay?”

I tasted cotton. The thick knot in the black pressed between my jaws as Yuna abandoned me and walked the four steps to her kitchen. As the name hogtie suggested, I lay on the couch like a roasted pig, complete with an apple between my lips. The radio played rapid classical music could not mask Yuna cursing the pastry tube and hot pan with molten chocolate. Its smell made my mouth water into the cotton, but she was less delighted. Yet, she was in a pleasant mood.

I listened, waited, and grunted occasionally. I could move like a rocking chair using some muscles I had never noticed before but decided against using them. Falling would be disastrous, so I calmed myself, lay still, and got lost in my thoughts. No one could bear this position very long, and Yuna was less and less likely to abuse the situation, so I had to make the best of it. I could never sleep like this, but resting never hurt. The ropes were tight. My back disliked the constant aching arch, but it was tolerable as if going to bed without dinner.

“How ya doin’ beautiful?”

Time had passed, but I could not confirm it had been half an hour. Yuna’s hand stroked my back to remind me once more of the leotard that rubbed over my skin.

“No, Bree, you look fabulous in those ropes.”

“More like a disfigured zebra,” I imagined. “Why those compliments?”

True to her word, Yuna untied me, leaving the gag for last. “I wasn’t entirely honest,” she blushed after a quick check-up. “That black belt around your biceps monitored your heart rate, and you remained composed the whole time. 53 is almost nothing, so that’s an encouraging sign.”

“A sign for what?” I fired back. Red lines covered my skin.

“Uhm, well, that means your mind can accept the bondage, which not everyone’s can,” Yuna stammered. “Then you have a, ugh, better chance to last and possibly maybe a place to live. Someone like you doesn’t belong on the street.”

I did not know who would belong on the streets but accepted Yuna’s embrace.

“I had heard you had drawn me?” she said, changing the subject. “Miriam said it was marvelous. Could I see it?”

I nodded and stood up. The first step was unearthly, but I recovered myself and retrieved the portrait from my hastily packed rucksack. I had not anticipated my muscles would be sore. I saved few drawings -- I produced too many and did not care -- so I located it in my folder in seconds. Two large ran across the face, and I recalled last night. The men had looted everything, and I had to fetch the paper from the ground as the dust particles showed.

“Sorry,” I whispered as Yuna’s smile faded. “Yesterday, I –”

“It’s okay. May I have a peek?” Yuna asked, and I obeyed and received the praise. She could keep it. Underneath was the homework assignment, which was ruined by the footprint of a boot. Although I had not quite finished, my intention had been to satisfy Miriam and Yuna. However, I had failed and would disappoint two of the unusually generous spirits in this city.

[GreyLord]

[mention]Beaumains[/mention], your hogtie description is beautiful. The more I read of this tale, the more attached I get to Bree. Thank you for writing this.

[Mineira1986]

Agreed, the hogtie description was very well done.

I hope Bree eventually stops being so hard to herself. (That's no criticism to the writing, to be clear. It's perfect understandable that she feels that way. It's only my hope for the character).

I wonder... would Bree allow herself to be tied by Miriam like she has allowed Yuna?

[slackywacky]

> I had failed and would disappoint two of the unusually generous spirits in this city.

That is part of life, it will happen at times. Nothing we can do about it, so live with it.
Great update.

[Caesar73]

“No, Bree, you look fabulous in those ropes.”

“More like a disfigured zebra,” I imagined. “Why those compliments?”

My facourite lines of this Chapter So Bree´s Journey continues: Her first Hog Tie. She still seems not to know if she loves or hates Bondage. Fantastic update!

[Tieup1]

Another good chapter. Yuna seems to have a good way of making Bree obey her. I think Yuna would love Bree to come and live with her, and be her willing bondage partner. Bree on the other hand, is confused, should she give up her life on the street, for perhaps, an unknown future, or should she try and start her life, somewhere else.

[Beaumains]

[mention]Beaumains[/mention], your hogtie description is beautiful. The more I read of this tale, the more attached I get to Bree. Thank you for writing this.

Thanks a lot! I also like Bree a lot and I like describing her thoughts.

Agreed, the hogtie description was very well done.

I hope Bree eventually stops being so hard to herself. (That's no criticism to the writing, to be clear. It's perfect understandable that she feels that way. It's only my hope for the character).

I wonder... would Bree allow herself to be tied by Miriam like she has allowed Yuna?

Thank you very much! Bree indeed should be a lot nicer to herself, but time will tell whether she can deal with who she is.

> I had failed and would disappoint two of the unusually generous spirits in this city.

That is part of life, it will happen at times. Nothing we can do about it, so live with it.
Great update.

Such things can easily be said, but changing someone's mood and reaction to such stuff is a lot harder. (Not that you are wrong, though)

“No, Bree, you look fabulous in those ropes.”

“More like a disfigured zebra,” I imagined. “Why those compliments?”

My facourite lines of this Chapter So Bree´s Journey continues: Her first Hog Tie. She still seems not to know if she loves or hates Bondage. Fantastic update!

Yeah, I think that either acknowledging whether she likes/dislikes bondage will be revealed at a later stage. As the next chapter will show, it might be too early to lift the tension.

I put in quite a few (animal) metaphors in this chapter, so I am glad you are liking them!

Another good chapter. Yuna seems to have a good way of making Bree obey her. I think Yuna would love Bree to come and live with her, and be her willing bondage partner. Bree on the other hand, is confused, should she give up her life on the street, for perhaps, an unknown future, or should she try and start her life, somewhere else.

Yuna has her ways, but Bree obeys, which also says something about her. I like your theory about Bree living with Yuna, but Yuna likely has her own life, and as I mentioned a few times in the chapter a very small apartment.

[Beaumains]

Yuna’s worn-out Chevrolet turned off the asphalt onto the crackling gravel and drove through the crumbling steel gate. Ancient oaks towered above me. I took the final sip of my milkshake – Yuna had called Thanksgiving a cheat-day, and she had bought us burgers, fries, and shakes for lunch – as an ancient mansion appeared in the distance. Ferns and brambles coated the forest floor underneath. After hundred yards, the trees opened up, and Yuna turned on the circular drive and stopped in front of the stairs leading to the front door. A balcony supported by Roman columns shadowed the entrance as I felt being watched from behind one of the dozens of windows in the three-story-high colossus.

Yuna grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go and remember: Ambrose and Cecilia are amongst the friendliest people I know. Don’t be scared. Everything inside is consensual, and only do what you wanna do. You may say no.”

The previous week, I had shared the table at the Maiden with the couple owning this palace, but I did not recall them.

“Ready?”

I sighed and nodded. I opened the car door and got my bags from the trunk.

“Bree, is anything wrong? Tell me,” Yuna said. I was a terrible liar. “You’re anxious and nervous. I can feel it.”

“Well, uh, this place is creepy, if I’m allowed to say that.” The weather was not helping: grey, wet skies, bald trees, and crisp wind.

“Of course, you are! Be brave, Bree. Haunted houses often look like this, but please, trust me. It’s going to be fine.”

I nodded once more, and we walked up the stairs, where Yuna knocked on the artichoke door. A minute passed, and Yuna pinched my arm like a mother with her child awaiting the school bus. She even carried my backpack in her hand.

“Hey, good afternoon. Glad you could make it,” a woman in her mid-twenties said. Her bright red lipstick, tight brown braid, and thin, almost elastic black woolen sweater that hugged her body like a second skin made her look like one of Hollywood’s sexy spies.

“Happy Thanksgiving. Glad you’re willing to help on such short notice,” Yuna replied, handing Cecilia my backpack. “I’m running late, so I gotta run. I’ll pop by tomorrow before going to the Maiden. Have an excellent day!”

And Yuna was gone. Cecilia and I remained on the doorstep. I vaguely recognized her face.

“Come in. Can I take your jacket?”

I nodded and let the stuffed fabric slide from my shoulders. Underneath, I wore black tights and a white shirt that was pressed together by a long, dark green skirt around my middle that ran to my knees. I yet again had to wear borrowed clothes. The big open hallway with a white stone floor was 12 feet high and lit by an old-fashioned chandelier.

“Yuna mentioned your clothes needed a wash? Shall we do that first?”

“Yeah, they’re in the garbage bag,” I replied, opening my rucksack, which the black plastic bag filled nearly completely.

Cecilia accepted the bag, asked me to get rid of my shoes, and guided me upstairs to the third floor into the ‘small’ bedroom. It was more spacious than Yuna’s apartment. An old-fashioned canopy bed carrying wrinkle-free blankets and four pillows was its central piece. A desk, wooden chair, three different sorts of curtains, and six 18th-century oil painting portraits. I imagined visiting a long-forgotten duke’s daughter’s bedroom. Ambrose had to be decades older, or his parents and grandparents all had mysteriously disappeared.

“This’ll be your room,” Cecilia announced. “Drop off your things, and then we’ll join the rest.”

I nodded, and we walked down the stairs covered by red carpeting.

“Bree,” Cecilia hissed as she grabbed my arm before going to a set of ground-floor doors. “You’re new to our world, so let me restate the basic rules. No is no, and you’re always careful. Okay? Today you’ll see some new things that appear dubious. Don’t judge too soon. You’ll be drowned cold turkey, so be prepared.”

I agreed, taken aback. The door swung open, and the big brown eyes of another woman matched mine. Like a horse, a thick bit was pressed in her mouth and yanked behind her head. I gazed down her body and noticed she wore nothing save for a leather collar and the ropes that bound her to the wooden support pole. Both her breasts and private parts were in full view. I reddened.

“This’s Cheyenne. Say hi, Bree,” Cecilia smiled, forcing me to greet the bound lady. It embarrassed me, but her even more. “She lost a game of Jenga and received punishment. We added the twist of gagging, handcuffing, and vibing the girls’ pussies, which truly improved the game.”

Cecilia pushed me farther inside, shielding me no longer from the wickedness inside. Three men sat on the couch, all dressed in t-shirts and jeans, while a nude, gagged girl stood in a 10-feet-high cage. Her feet were cuffed to the bottom and her hands to the top.

“Sit down,” Cecilia urged as I noticed a third naked girl lying on a mattress. One man held a thin steel chain that ran to the collar around her neck. Although her hands were cuffed in front of her, she did not attempt to cover herself as I gawked.

“What do you want to drink?” Ambrose asked.

“Uh,” I thought for a while, analyzing the various bottles. Even the water was from an expensive brand in a decorated glass bottle. “Orange juice?” I mumbled, recalling Yuna’s advice. I felt rude, but Cecilia instantly grabbed the bottle and filled a wineglass. Then she introduced the three men, Remy, Talon, and Ambrose, the woman on the floor as Isabelle, and the caged girl’s name was Aoife.

As everyone here already knew about me, I did not have to announce my name. In these circles, my name and social situation were now well-known. There was talking behind my back about me.

Next to me on the couch, Remy held the chain. “What would you prefer? Tying or being tied?”

I blushed again at the question. “I’m good for now. Thanks.”

“Aoife is still in the cage, so what about you two teaming up and play the stick game against Ambrose and me?” Cecilia suggested as in-between.

“Sure, sounds good,” Remy smirked. The high cage was five feet wide and deep, and with bars on the corners and four others on each side, Aoife could walk if it was not for the chains. The rings of colored tape wrapped around each bar made the cage vibrant. Metal tubes that could turn freely in all directions and with a wing nut sticking out were secured to the bars. At the top and bottom, the bars were numbered 1 to 20.

“The rules are simple,” Ambrose explained. He towered two heads above me, and his biceps were thicker than my upper legs. “The teams alternate turns, and every turn, both teammates call a color and number, and you connect a rod between those two points. The first team to add one which Aoife cannot dodge wins. Clear?”

I nodded and stared at the girl in the cage. The chains had some slack, so she had space to move. Her straight red hair ran to her shoulders, and combined with her freckles and emerald green eyes, she looked my age, instead of 10 years older like the rest.

“Are you okay?” I whispered after Ambrose had given me a 1-inch thick steel pole. It was heavy.

She ignored my subtleties and nodded exaggeratedly. Her eyes twinkled.

“I choose 14-blue,” Remy said. “To what should we connect it?”

I studied the cage, the numbers, and the colors. For them, this was a game like Monopoly, Risk, or Battleships. I would do the same. “6-brown.” That was almost a full diagonal. Aoife stepped aside, and I threaded the pole through the first tube and Ambrose through the second. We fastened the rod, and it was the home team’s turn.

[GreyLord]

Your writing is very claar, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. You bring your reader into the scene like the reader was there as an observer.

Bree, while still holding her uncertainties, appears to be actively trying to fit in. I'm looking forward to your next chapter.

[Caesar73]

Bree is trying to adjust to the situation, that she has still mixed feelings about what is happening is perfectly understandable. This is still a new world for her. Getting used to that world must pose a challenge for her - and you capture that process very well [mention]Beaumains[/mention]

[Mineira1986]

Now that's an interesting game.

It's going to be interesting to see how Bree can do without any of her closer allies/friends. I can only hope she enjoys herself, after all, it's Thanksgiving.

[Tieup1]

Bree seems to be doing well, adapting to the challenges. She must find it hard being an outsider, and trying to fit in. It must be difficult for her, she is in a completely different world to what she is used to.

[Beaumains]

Your writing is very claar, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. You bring your reader into the scene like the reader was there as an observer.

Bree, while still holding her uncertainties, appears to be actively trying to fit in. I'm looking forward to your next chapter.

Thank you so much! That means a lot to me.

Bree is trying to adjust to the situation, that she has still mixed feelings about what is happening is perfectly understandable. This is still a new world for her. Getting used to that world must pose a challenge for her - and you capture that process very well [mention]Beaumains[/mention]

Thanks a lot! It is fun to write from her novice perspective, so avoiding any jargon, in a quite hard-core environment.

Now that's an interesting game.

It's going to be interesting to see how Bree can do without any of her closer allies/friends. I can only hope she enjoys herself, after all, it's Thanksgiving.

Spoiler-alert, the next chapter will mostly about that game. It was fun to come up with, but I have no idea how practical it would be. Ah well, it's a fictional story. Thank you for your continued support.

Bree seems to be doing well, adapting to the challenges. She must find it hard being an outsider, and trying to fit in. It must be difficult for her, she is in a completely different world to what she is used to.

Thank you for your comment. It is indeed not easy for Bree, but some fear has disappeared as she understand these people will not hurt her directly and immediately.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Aoife shuffled aside as Ambrose inserted one of the longer rods from 10-black to 20-purple. It was a diagonal in all three dimensions and crossed our rod in the middle of the cage. Being cuffed to the floor and top, the red-haired girl had to choose a side to move to, and she picked the side where both pipes went up.

“What’s next?” I asked Remy. The big bald man looked bold and coarse, so of the type that I would ordinarily avoid.

“I’ll go for 18-yellow,” he replied.

The second person to call an attachment point was the most crucial, and Remy gladfully handed that responsibility to me. I made eye contact with Aoife, and she gave a gentle nod. My hesitation was apparent, and her nude body still discomforted me. While I interpreted this as an abstract game and ignored the context, I could persevere. “6-red.”

I selected one of the shorter rods and pushed it through the pipe. It was heavy, about 40 pounds, and my arm trembled as I forced it through. Inside the cage, every vibration multiplied, and then it happened. I hit Aoife. On her breast of all places. It pushed into the right – they were not small – and shoved her back as she produced a squeak.

“Sorry, sorry,” I exclaimed as I struck the rod further for Remy to catch it and secure it on his side. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Aoife, you okay?” Cecilia queried casually.

She nodded another time, and I could swear she smiled under her gag.

“You see, everything’s fine,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”

I sighed and let my mind return to the game. Concentrating on winning would draw my mind from the situation’s peculiarities. Aoife’s upper body was now forced into a triangle she could not escape anymore. She fitted three times in the area, so Ambrose and Cecilia could not win in one turn. Every rod could still be placed. Hence, the opposing team moved downward and forced a rod between her legs at ankle height. We followed their example, forming a cross.

“Bree, we forgot to explain one rule,” Ambrose said. “Each turn must add more restrictions to Aoife. Otherwise, it’s too easy to skip a turn and let the other team take the risk.”

I agreed, and both teams added more constraints to the girl’s feet before moving up to her legs. Here, the game plan became evident. First, Ambrose and Cecilia placed a rod behind her knees before adding one that would have had to go through her hips. As her feet were fixed, she had to decide: lean forwards or backward. Aoife grasped the chains and dropped back to allow the rod through. She had to balance on her toes and rely on her flexibility to survive much longer.

“Don’t try to finish it off. It’s too early,” Remy whispered before he outlined a ruthless plan.

“Yellow-3,” I announced, adhering to my teammate’s plan, and Cecilia grinned. The two men lifted the pole, and for the first time, Aoife hesitated for a moment as the rod approached her crotch. Then she pulled herself up on the chains, waited until the rod was fastened, and lowered herself on the pole. Her weight rested on one butt cheek, the least bad option.

The next pole of Cecilia and Ambrose was aimed a foot above ours, and Aoife had to dodge it creatively again. Leaning with her right leg on our rod, she let her fall to the side until the ankle chain was tight and hung by the wrist chains.

“Time for the final blow,” Remy cheered before I guessed a number and color. He named his, and Aoife could never evade it. We pointed it right at her chest, and in her position, the chains had lost the slack they had once enjoyed.

I turned to Cecilia. “Eh, did we win?” I inquired. I had likely forgotten a rule.

“Not yet. Let me try something,” Cecilia disagreed as she stepped through the cage’s bars. She puzzled her way through the 15 rods until she reached Aoife. Gripping her with both hands, she twisted the bound girl’s body ninety degrees as Ambrose forced the rod further, and it slid past her pale skin. Ambrose walked around the cage and jerked the rod further to the right and up, not caring about Aoife’s chest and bare breasts. He had to reach the pipe the rod had to enter. “A little farther up,” Cecilia instructed as Aoife’s body was pressed together, and the rod slid in. The screws were tightened. Cecilia let go of the freckled girl and strode out of the cage.

“We win!” she proclaimed with a smile of a parent beating up their 4-year-old in chess. “Or should we still try?”

A grunt behind her interrupted Cecilia’s sheer joy. The steel crushed Aoife together, and although she carried little flesh, the cuffs pressured her wrists.

“Well played,” Ambrose said as he shook Remy’s and my hand. “You got close, but Aoife is much more flexible than she seems.”

I nodded, and with the game finished, I regained my blurred vision. This was wicked and outrageous. Aoife, a human being, had been treated like a ragdoll, and I was responsible as well. Sadly.

Cecilia snapped a few pictures with her phone before she checked in on Aoife. Ambrose and Remy had perceived the problem too and began removing the poles from the bottom down, setting them on the floorboard. Gradually, Aoife regained the ability to stand on her feet and retract her stretched body. I did nothing but watch and hated that, despite it being a two-person job.

“Had fun?” Ambrose asks as he unlocked the cuffs that Aoife up. She nodded as she went to the ground. “Need a drink?” Her head bent forward once more. “Good girl.” He patted her head before releasing the ball from her mouth. Saliva dripped off.

I swung around to walk back to the couch when I spotted Talon and Isabelle on the floor. With pleasure, our game had been watched. I reddened, which I sought to conceal by sitting down and slowly drinking from my orange juice. Meanwhile, gulped a glass of water before lazing down on the mattress next to Isabelle. Apparently, she also was not allowed onto the furniture.

“Ce, we had ordered tea and cake at four, hadn’t we?” Ambrose said to my hostess. They formed a couple.

Cecilia confirmed it and pressed a few buttons on her phone. I had suspected some sort of delivery had been delayed, but a woman appeared a few seconds later. Her ankle-long black dress with white petticoat resembled the Maiden’s waitresses but was much less revealing. The collar closed at her neck, and her sleeves reached her hands.

“Miss, how can I be of service?”

“We would love to have tea and cake. Would that be possible?”

“Miss, as you wish. Please, provide me a moment.”


Fifteen minutes later, my fork pinched for the second time in the red velvet cake and let the sweetness roll in my mouth. It melted. I could not comprehend what was going on. Cheyenne had to miss out on the cake as part of her punishment and was still tied to the pillar. The two other naked girls scoffed and quaffed on the mattress.

[GreyLord]

What a fun game. That is very inventive, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. Are you going to sell it on Amazon? Slowly, she is getting more and more comfortable in the Tangled environment. I'm waiting to see where you go with this next.

[Caesar73]

What a fun game. That is very inventive, @Beaumains. Are you going to sell it on Amazon? Slowly, she is getting more and more comfortable in the Tangled environment. I'm waiting to see where you go with this next.

I can only subscribe to that This Game Sequence was very creative and fun to read!