The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 10 Chapter 1 (Apr. 25, 2024)
D it is. I like the combo
-
silvertejp590
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 100
- Joined: 3 years ago
-
harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: 6 years ago
@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp
D is the winner!
Story 7 Chapter 3: New Friends
Our newly discovered starlet Emilia, code name Teresa, was getting quite the breast massage at Marcy’s hands. Emilia asked lots of questions while this happened, but no one knew what she was asking because she was asking it in Spanish. Another yank of the pigtails reminded our new friend to behave herself.
Steve had moved to a lower position, but Emilia still crouched down and yelled into her gag with a determined voice. She looked at the camera and talked as if she were demanding to be untied by a stranger at that perspective.
“Wanna talk to someone? Here,” Marcy walked over with a telephone.
“Gmm mmm mmmm!” is what Emilia sounded like.
She paused as if there were another person on the other end of the line and talked some more into the white ball gag. She started wailing as if the imaginary soul on the other end was a fool who didn’t understand that she was in life-threatening danger. The wailing became more desperate as the drool started to pour off her lips.
Then Marcy walked away. Emilia resumed her impassioned hopping, and my ropework proved its efficacy. What a nice, tight ass she had, too. Emilia wanted to be out of the ropes, not on my terms, but on hers. She again bent down and turned to look at the camera while for release. In a desperate final bid, she hopped around to turn herself and put her face in front of the camera just to wail and drool while showing off her titties. Just look at the desperation in those gorgeous and wide brown eyes. She sought assistance, but none came.
Joyce Verdi was a hottie in distress. She grunted into the bandana stuffed in her mouth and took a good look to the side before glaring back at me. She leaned back in the chair and breathed a bit more heavily than before. Determination was on her face still, and she looked toward Cassie and then back at me.
I didn't know a girl could be so determined to escape a bondage game. Joyce talked a little bit, but mostly she saved it for expressions of anger. The tape sealed her mouth shut quite well, and the bandana stuffed therein muffled her speech. She was quite the sport, though, and I liked how shiny her tits were.
Slumping on the chair was accompanied by a grunt of despair. She sat up again and threw out her legs while keeping her eyes on the camera… which was me now with Kristine’s guidance as we were all encouraged to be able to do these things in case Steve and/or Marcy got sick as the show must go on! Finally, though, I walked away and started circling Joyce; with a loud shriek from her, I grabbed by the harness, spanked her on each butt cheek, and pushed her to the carpet, all without much effort.
Joyce pushed herself up and supported herself with her arms while glaring towards me. Focused on the camera, Joyce paid little attention to me now and threw her legs around. Surely, she must have thought, something will come loose! She laid back and looked at the camera and yelled like the damsel in distress she was. There was more to her though, a spark in her eye.
Joyce was having fun.
Joyce scowled at us and pulled her knees toward her chest. The ropes on her arms continued to hold strong against her struggles, and she muttered stuff to me while moving about in position as if we could understand her through that bandana in her mouth. Getting up on her knees, Joyce started lecturing us before flopping with an agonized groan.
She got back up on her knees and silently focused on her desire to escape. She got all the way down on her knees with her head on the ground while flailing her arms around before rolling onto her stomach and side, but she did it! I watched an arm pop out of the clothesline! Sweet young Joyce Verdi had escaped.
Our new friend was sweaty and ecstatic. Never did Steve find a girl who looked so happy after a shoot as this one. She giddily posed with her tits bare for all to see. The joy she felt courtesy her triumph could not be put into words, but she had done the impossible thing by winning a spot in mine and Michela’s hearts.
“You’re so much fun,” I came up behind her and fondled her.
“Ha ha! I had a ton of fun too. It was great!”
“Now what? Would you do it again?”
“For sure!” she grinned and wiped some sweat off her brow, “Let’s attend to Emilia here.”
“Why? What more needs to be done?” Michela didn’t understand her just like I didn’t.
“She didn’t escape and is still tied up; I’m going to punish her,” the happy girl responded.
That was how Joyce made her domination debut. Emilia sat on the chair and made her puddle of drool even larger than it already was. Without effort, Joyce wrangled the bigger girl to the floor; a tied captive is a helpless captive. Joyce took a piece of clothesline and skillfully attached poor Emilia’s ankles to her wrists, and then we all knew that Joyce was not kidding about having been a girl scout. She was too skillful to have just started playing games with Jenny and friends; she had to have played with the other scouts.
“Thanks for playing, Teresa, but you lost this time!” Joyce teased as she folded up a matching pink bandana.
“Mmmmm!” Emilia groaned and looked around in desperation.
“Oh, right,” Joyce pulled the bandana over Emilia’s eyes, “It’s not a game! I captured you!”
“Nooooo!”
“Sorry, baby, but if you want to get out, you’ll have to play by my rules. Those are girl scout knots of the best kind. Next time you steal from the business, share it with me, hmmm?”
“Mmmmm!”
Emilia squirmed on the floor, and Joyce was as chipper and confident in domination as she was in submission. There was something evident in these two: mutual respect. I had respect for the most important person I needed to respect: myself. How can I truly love when I don’t respect myself properly? Today was a big step in that regard by permitting my friends to buy clothes for me.
Joyce stood watching Emilia and occasionally squeezed the helpless girl’s bare tits. Emilia had a really strong squeal of frustration she gave when Joyce did that. Emilia had a really good grasp on the concept of gag talk, but the ball gag did a fine job of ruining her efforts to talk. Through the whole period in which she was hogtied, Emilia was taunted and teased by Joyce.
What was different about these two though? They seemed like good people. Emilia could have fun with this, and Joyce did as well. Just look at how Joyce was sweating, and look at the life in Emilia’s eyes! A huge grin and a giggle was at the ready with the smaller Italian girl, and I could see Michela had felt an instant connection with both of them.
“Kristine, it's your turn,” I smiled at the older girl, “You haven't dolled up.”
“Well, I am,” she took the kerchief she'd been wearing, “But I think less is more.”
“Are you?” I watched her take off her shirt too, “Is this a burlesque striptease?”
“Nice bust!” Michela grinned.
“Oh, you girls are silly.”
“Are we now?” I laughed at Kristine’s words.
I realized something new about myself. I had honor. Kristine was married and hot, but I couldn't bring myself to lust after her. Now, in just a partial garter and a bra, she was smoking, instant wood, hot. If this didn't top the sales list for the month, then we were in trouble.
For a hot-tie, a hog-tie. Yep. I bound her wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees, and I ran the rope from her elbows to her heels for the hog-tie. For a gag, I used a red bandana and strips of classic gray duct tape. We had a hottie in distress in the room.
I had hogtied Kristine on a sofa, and there was little she could do. It was tight, and I quickly took the route of humiliation. Tits out, my friends. She groaned a bit while Steve took lots of photographs of her rocking from one side to other before he gave Cassie a chance on film.
“Hi, Kristine!” the Boss B-tch walked over to the bare-breasted young lady, “Not so tough now, are you?”
“Mmmmm!” wailed Kristine while sucking on the bandana.
“Aw, don't you worry! I’ve got something that will help you!”
“Nooooo!” Kristine was rolled over and got a clothes hanger on her nipples.
“There there,” Cassie brushed her hair aside, “You’re going nowhere, my dear.”
“H-ck -ou! Ah’ll h-cking hill -ou!” and so forth…
Joyce, Emilia, Michela, and I exchanged phone numbers, hugs, and kisses before we parted ways. It had been a great time getting paid good, honest cash. As soon as we were in the car, Michela gave me a big kiss on the cheek and told me how proud she was of me.
But then Michela and I were sitting in a restaurant joint talking as if we were friends while really feeling the love. I didn’t need a fancy dinner to know Michela loved me, but she was Italian and missed Olive Garden. So we sat in an Olive Garden, and for the first time I felt like Michela did truly love me in a way that went beyond ordinary friendship and was more than being sex pals. I didn’t understand friendship at this time because of my own rejection of quality friendships, but I can now look back and realize that we genuinely were, still are, best friends. Fettuccine is never as good as when I’m eating it with Michela. Part of me jumps with excitement wanting to spoil all the fun stuff that is supposed to come at the end of the story!
We held hands as we walked in the park afterwards and laughed over how many breadsticks we had eaten in there; we brought home half of our meals and even got dessert to eat after dinner at home. We were 18. We didn’t care too much about the sorrows in life when it was all about Valentine’s for us. We sat down and cuddled under a tree near the spot where we were supposed to meet Jenny and Nichole. Part of me was excited to finally see Nichole after over a year; part of me was ashamed to see her because she had visited me so many times in prison, and I never made an effort to thank her or see her when I got out.
“I’m in love with you,” I kissed my beautiful Italian friend.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she responded before our lips locked.
“Whoa whoa!” Nichole laughed and interrupted us, “Save it for tonight.”
“Caught red-handed,” Michela said and finished the smooch, “Hannah, introduce us!”
“All right,” I shook a bit, “Michela, these are Jenny and Nichole, my friends from high school. Girls, this is Michela. We were…,” I choked up and held Michela tightly, “Cellmates.”
“Hannnnaahhhh,” Jenny’s voice was always so squeaky, “You don’t have to be ashamed to tell us the truth. We care about you, and with time we’ll care about your girlfriend too.”
Michela and I bashfully let go and struck a prison pose without even thinking about it. What an absolutely horrible and tragic self-defense mechanism, but we had a plan for our day that we had to follow. Such rigid approaches to rules still permeate my life to this day. We had walked to the park from Michela’s house, so the only option was Nichole’s car.
Nichole was wearing a navy blue bandana headband, an icy blue sweatshirt, and navy sweatpants as she had before I went down the bad path. She seemed at ease with my situation, as if I hadn’t done all the bad things I had done or, moreso, that it didn’t matter to her. She seemed charmed to see me and Michela together, and I felt comfortable holding hands with Michela in the back seat of the car.
Little Jenny, barely taller than her cousin Kendra, looked much like Kendra too. Jenny had much more joy about her though, but then again her parents loved her. A yellow bandana headband, a brown long-sleeve t-shirt, and pink sweatpants were the choice clothing of the small, energetic girl. Her love for people overpowered her religious feelings about Michela and me.
Clothes shopping felt strange and foreign. The last time I had seriously gone looking for clothes had been some 3-4 years before this. I had been impoverished for so long, in danger before that, and in prison before even that. There were so many colors and patterns and designs. A skirt? Or pants? How about just sweats of a different color? Maybe those would look nice together? I was genuinely overwhelmed, and I started to cry as we walked out of the store together. I hugged all three of my friends, but it was all Jenny's idea so she got the tightest hug of all.
Maybe I was too happy because as soon as we got home I dashed to the bedroom to put on my new purple leggings and fuschia pink long-sleeve t-shirt and, of course, a matching fuschia bandana headband. I was almost a Cool Girl again. My joy was to be short-lived. I let Jenny and Nichole into the bedroom and turned on the TV just to provide some noise over the inevitable noise of TUGs. I sat down to volunteer myself as the first one to be tied.
“A little tape should work,” Jenny started taping my wrists behind me, and panic seized me.
“Don't do that,” the smell of the tape hit more strongly this time, but I kept calm.
“You're our prisoner of love now,” Nichole smiled at me without understanding.
“I told you not to do that!” the tape felt so real; it was happening again, “After all this, you're trying to kill me?!”
“Kill you? No! It's just a game!” Jenny was so sweet and innocent.
“I said no tape, you f-cking idiot!” I pulled away from them and snapped the tape.
I took a deep breath of the familiar glue. As a little gag, it was OK. As a bondage, it was unacceptable. I was shaking all over, and I started ranting about friendship and trauma and stuff without getting specific and how they won't ever tape me without my express permission if they really love. The feel of that tape against me was too much; the smell filled the air. I was getting…
“You don't understand. Please, try!” I begged them when it was a simple matter.
“No problem. Hannah, sit down and let it all out!” Jenny implored me.
“My ex. He… he… I can't! I can't talk about it!” I was shaking violently now.
“Baby, don't panic. Greg can't hurt you no more,” Michela’s words were wasted.
“We're here now. I'm sorry I wasn't there before for you,” Nichole tried her best.
“He… he tried to f-cking kill me!” I then went into a full nervous breakdown.
And everything that followed was blackness… 25 minutes of my life… gone.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Whose socks will be used to gag Nichole, with the reason given?
(A) Hannah’s— it’s been too long since she last ate Hannah’s socks!
(B) Michela’s— time to try something new and see what it’s like!
(C) Jenny’s— nothing beats the taste of best friends forever!
(D) Nichole’s— can’t top the flavor of your own defeet!
D is the winner!
Story 7 Chapter 3: New Friends
Our newly discovered starlet Emilia, code name Teresa, was getting quite the breast massage at Marcy’s hands. Emilia asked lots of questions while this happened, but no one knew what she was asking because she was asking it in Spanish. Another yank of the pigtails reminded our new friend to behave herself.
Steve had moved to a lower position, but Emilia still crouched down and yelled into her gag with a determined voice. She looked at the camera and talked as if she were demanding to be untied by a stranger at that perspective.
“Wanna talk to someone? Here,” Marcy walked over with a telephone.
“Gmm mmm mmmm!” is what Emilia sounded like.
She paused as if there were another person on the other end of the line and talked some more into the white ball gag. She started wailing as if the imaginary soul on the other end was a fool who didn’t understand that she was in life-threatening danger. The wailing became more desperate as the drool started to pour off her lips.
Then Marcy walked away. Emilia resumed her impassioned hopping, and my ropework proved its efficacy. What a nice, tight ass she had, too. Emilia wanted to be out of the ropes, not on my terms, but on hers. She again bent down and turned to look at the camera while for release. In a desperate final bid, she hopped around to turn herself and put her face in front of the camera just to wail and drool while showing off her titties. Just look at the desperation in those gorgeous and wide brown eyes. She sought assistance, but none came.
► Show Spoiler
I didn't know a girl could be so determined to escape a bondage game. Joyce talked a little bit, but mostly she saved it for expressions of anger. The tape sealed her mouth shut quite well, and the bandana stuffed therein muffled her speech. She was quite the sport, though, and I liked how shiny her tits were.
Slumping on the chair was accompanied by a grunt of despair. She sat up again and threw out her legs while keeping her eyes on the camera… which was me now with Kristine’s guidance as we were all encouraged to be able to do these things in case Steve and/or Marcy got sick as the show must go on! Finally, though, I walked away and started circling Joyce; with a loud shriek from her, I grabbed by the harness, spanked her on each butt cheek, and pushed her to the carpet, all without much effort.
Joyce pushed herself up and supported herself with her arms while glaring towards me. Focused on the camera, Joyce paid little attention to me now and threw her legs around. Surely, she must have thought, something will come loose! She laid back and looked at the camera and yelled like the damsel in distress she was. There was more to her though, a spark in her eye.
Joyce was having fun.
► Show Spoiler
She got back up on her knees and silently focused on her desire to escape. She got all the way down on her knees with her head on the ground while flailing her arms around before rolling onto her stomach and side, but she did it! I watched an arm pop out of the clothesline! Sweet young Joyce Verdi had escaped.
Our new friend was sweaty and ecstatic. Never did Steve find a girl who looked so happy after a shoot as this one. She giddily posed with her tits bare for all to see. The joy she felt courtesy her triumph could not be put into words, but she had done the impossible thing by winning a spot in mine and Michela’s hearts.
“You’re so much fun,” I came up behind her and fondled her.
“Ha ha! I had a ton of fun too. It was great!”
“Now what? Would you do it again?”
“For sure!” she grinned and wiped some sweat off her brow, “Let’s attend to Emilia here.”
“Why? What more needs to be done?” Michela didn’t understand her just like I didn’t.
“She didn’t escape and is still tied up; I’m going to punish her,” the happy girl responded.
That was how Joyce made her domination debut. Emilia sat on the chair and made her puddle of drool even larger than it already was. Without effort, Joyce wrangled the bigger girl to the floor; a tied captive is a helpless captive. Joyce took a piece of clothesline and skillfully attached poor Emilia’s ankles to her wrists, and then we all knew that Joyce was not kidding about having been a girl scout. She was too skillful to have just started playing games with Jenny and friends; she had to have played with the other scouts.
“Thanks for playing, Teresa, but you lost this time!” Joyce teased as she folded up a matching pink bandana.
“Mmmmm!” Emilia groaned and looked around in desperation.
“Oh, right,” Joyce pulled the bandana over Emilia’s eyes, “It’s not a game! I captured you!”
“Nooooo!”
“Sorry, baby, but if you want to get out, you’ll have to play by my rules. Those are girl scout knots of the best kind. Next time you steal from the business, share it with me, hmmm?”
“Mmmmm!”
Emilia squirmed on the floor, and Joyce was as chipper and confident in domination as she was in submission. There was something evident in these two: mutual respect. I had respect for the most important person I needed to respect: myself. How can I truly love when I don’t respect myself properly? Today was a big step in that regard by permitting my friends to buy clothes for me.
Joyce stood watching Emilia and occasionally squeezed the helpless girl’s bare tits. Emilia had a really strong squeal of frustration she gave when Joyce did that. Emilia had a really good grasp on the concept of gag talk, but the ball gag did a fine job of ruining her efforts to talk. Through the whole period in which she was hogtied, Emilia was taunted and teased by Joyce.
What was different about these two though? They seemed like good people. Emilia could have fun with this, and Joyce did as well. Just look at how Joyce was sweating, and look at the life in Emilia’s eyes! A huge grin and a giggle was at the ready with the smaller Italian girl, and I could see Michela had felt an instant connection with both of them.
► Show Spoiler
“Well, I am,” she took the kerchief she'd been wearing, “But I think less is more.”
“Are you?” I watched her take off her shirt too, “Is this a burlesque striptease?”
“Nice bust!” Michela grinned.
“Oh, you girls are silly.”
“Are we now?” I laughed at Kristine’s words.
I realized something new about myself. I had honor. Kristine was married and hot, but I couldn't bring myself to lust after her. Now, in just a partial garter and a bra, she was smoking, instant wood, hot. If this didn't top the sales list for the month, then we were in trouble.
For a hot-tie, a hog-tie. Yep. I bound her wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees, and I ran the rope from her elbows to her heels for the hog-tie. For a gag, I used a red bandana and strips of classic gray duct tape. We had a hottie in distress in the room.
I had hogtied Kristine on a sofa, and there was little she could do. It was tight, and I quickly took the route of humiliation. Tits out, my friends. She groaned a bit while Steve took lots of photographs of her rocking from one side to other before he gave Cassie a chance on film.
“Hi, Kristine!” the Boss B-tch walked over to the bare-breasted young lady, “Not so tough now, are you?”
“Mmmmm!” wailed Kristine while sucking on the bandana.
“Aw, don't you worry! I’ve got something that will help you!”
“Nooooo!” Kristine was rolled over and got a clothes hanger on her nipples.
“There there,” Cassie brushed her hair aside, “You’re going nowhere, my dear.”
“H-ck -ou! Ah’ll h-cking hill -ou!” and so forth…
Joyce, Emilia, Michela, and I exchanged phone numbers, hugs, and kisses before we parted ways. It had been a great time getting paid good, honest cash. As soon as we were in the car, Michela gave me a big kiss on the cheek and told me how proud she was of me.
► Show Spoiler
We held hands as we walked in the park afterwards and laughed over how many breadsticks we had eaten in there; we brought home half of our meals and even got dessert to eat after dinner at home. We were 18. We didn’t care too much about the sorrows in life when it was all about Valentine’s for us. We sat down and cuddled under a tree near the spot where we were supposed to meet Jenny and Nichole. Part of me was excited to finally see Nichole after over a year; part of me was ashamed to see her because she had visited me so many times in prison, and I never made an effort to thank her or see her when I got out.
“I’m in love with you,” I kissed my beautiful Italian friend.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she responded before our lips locked.
“Whoa whoa!” Nichole laughed and interrupted us, “Save it for tonight.”
“Caught red-handed,” Michela said and finished the smooch, “Hannah, introduce us!”
“All right,” I shook a bit, “Michela, these are Jenny and Nichole, my friends from high school. Girls, this is Michela. We were…,” I choked up and held Michela tightly, “Cellmates.”
“Hannnnaahhhh,” Jenny’s voice was always so squeaky, “You don’t have to be ashamed to tell us the truth. We care about you, and with time we’ll care about your girlfriend too.”
Michela and I bashfully let go and struck a prison pose without even thinking about it. What an absolutely horrible and tragic self-defense mechanism, but we had a plan for our day that we had to follow. Such rigid approaches to rules still permeate my life to this day. We had walked to the park from Michela’s house, so the only option was Nichole’s car.
Nichole was wearing a navy blue bandana headband, an icy blue sweatshirt, and navy sweatpants as she had before I went down the bad path. She seemed at ease with my situation, as if I hadn’t done all the bad things I had done or, moreso, that it didn’t matter to her. She seemed charmed to see me and Michela together, and I felt comfortable holding hands with Michela in the back seat of the car.
Little Jenny, barely taller than her cousin Kendra, looked much like Kendra too. Jenny had much more joy about her though, but then again her parents loved her. A yellow bandana headband, a brown long-sleeve t-shirt, and pink sweatpants were the choice clothing of the small, energetic girl. Her love for people overpowered her religious feelings about Michela and me.
Clothes shopping felt strange and foreign. The last time I had seriously gone looking for clothes had been some 3-4 years before this. I had been impoverished for so long, in danger before that, and in prison before even that. There were so many colors and patterns and designs. A skirt? Or pants? How about just sweats of a different color? Maybe those would look nice together? I was genuinely overwhelmed, and I started to cry as we walked out of the store together. I hugged all three of my friends, but it was all Jenny's idea so she got the tightest hug of all.
Maybe I was too happy because as soon as we got home I dashed to the bedroom to put on my new purple leggings and fuschia pink long-sleeve t-shirt and, of course, a matching fuschia bandana headband. I was almost a Cool Girl again. My joy was to be short-lived. I let Jenny and Nichole into the bedroom and turned on the TV just to provide some noise over the inevitable noise of TUGs. I sat down to volunteer myself as the first one to be tied.
“A little tape should work,” Jenny started taping my wrists behind me, and panic seized me.
“Don't do that,” the smell of the tape hit more strongly this time, but I kept calm.
“You're our prisoner of love now,” Nichole smiled at me without understanding.
“I told you not to do that!” the tape felt so real; it was happening again, “After all this, you're trying to kill me?!”
“Kill you? No! It's just a game!” Jenny was so sweet and innocent.
“I said no tape, you f-cking idiot!” I pulled away from them and snapped the tape.
I took a deep breath of the familiar glue. As a little gag, it was OK. As a bondage, it was unacceptable. I was shaking all over, and I started ranting about friendship and trauma and stuff without getting specific and how they won't ever tape me without my express permission if they really love. The feel of that tape against me was too much; the smell filled the air. I was getting…
“You don't understand. Please, try!” I begged them when it was a simple matter.
“No problem. Hannah, sit down and let it all out!” Jenny implored me.
“My ex. He… he… I can't! I can't talk about it!” I was shaking violently now.
“Baby, don't panic. Greg can't hurt you no more,” Michela’s words were wasted.
“We're here now. I'm sorry I wasn't there before for you,” Nichole tried her best.
“He… he tried to f-cking kill me!” I then went into a full nervous breakdown.
And everything that followed was blackness… 25 minutes of my life… gone.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Whose socks will be used to gag Nichole, with the reason given?
(A) Hannah’s— it’s been too long since she last ate Hannah’s socks!
(B) Michela’s— time to try something new and see what it’s like!
(C) Jenny’s— nothing beats the taste of best friends forever!
(D) Nichole’s— can’t top the flavor of your own defeet!
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!
-
harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: 6 years ago
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 230
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
D is most appropriate I think 
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
Trauma is no joke. Great chapter! I vote D for the pun!
Story 7 Chapter 4: Old Friends
The smell of the tape. The sound of it coming off the roll. The feel of it against my skin. That distinctive odor… that sound… unwillingly taped, my socks in my mouth, the tape around my face and that strong smell of it, and then getting senselessly r-ped for an hour. Taken down to the basement, and attached to that heavy duty pipe. My body, crushed in tape: my torso, rigid against the pipe. My breasts pushed out by the adhesive. The way it sticks to my skin. The way it shines in even the slightest light.
When I opened my eyes, I was on the futon. Jenny and Nichole sat on the bed with distraught faces. They had done their homework. Both faces were soaked with tears, and I turned and realized Michela was holding my hand and also crying. I had ruined everything for everyone.
“Jenny, I’m sorry for ripping you like that,” I said as emphatically as I could.
“Why didn't you ask us to help you sooner?” Nichole shook a bit.
“Because I knew it was either take him down or die trying, and I almost died trying.”
“I’m sorry it's been a lousy Valentine's,” Michela was hurt by my pain.
“Hannah, I’m sorry I didn't help you more when what you needed most was friendship,” Jenny couldn't stop crying.
“Screw that,” I sat up, “I had no one then. I was homeless for a spell. You're here now. That's what matters more. Sit down. You here, Nichole, and Jenny you squeeze in between me and Michela.”
They sat down as I requested, and both friends kissed me on the cheeks, and Jenny had one for Michela too. Jenny loved everyone no matter what. Nichole cried harder because she had visited me so many times, and I knew she felt a bit betrayed. Could I tell them myself? I had to come clean to someone, and this was my chance.
“The news reports are one quarter of the story…”
I proceeded to describe things like I had for Dr. Sheridan. Even more than that: I was recounting the story in vivid detail like when I was testifying against Greg both when I was giving my statements to the police and when I was on the stand. Nary a word of interruption followed. I went back and confessed my shame at my actions and how I chose to go down the road of using and slinging drugs rather than reforming myself and asking forgiveness of my friends.
“Jenny, Nichole… I’m sorry I was so selfish and that I distrusted you two.”
“Hannah Bandana,” Nichole wrapped an arm around me, “I forgive you.”
“I forgave you a long time ago,” Jenny took my hand, “And been praying that God would one day safely bring you back into our lives. Can you forgive us for maybe not trying hard enough to be there for you?”
“I certainly can, especially since I tried to hide from you. You wouldn't be here now if Casey hadn't been so persistent.”
“Casey talks so much about you that it's amazing; she's your guardian angel,” Michela blurted out.
“Casey talks to you?!” I turned to Michela in shock and only received a smile back.
“Does she ever care about you,” Nichole tightened her hug, “Our friend, the bondage model.”
Friend! Nichole said I was their friend! Why?! I didn't understand anything except that I started crying again. They really had forgiven me long before and had made up both of their minds to welcome me into their lives with open arms. A platonic kiss was planted on each of their cheeks. So I could kiss a girl without it being sexual after all; that was a first since prison.
“Maybe I should be tied up first!” Jenny squeaked and bounced up, “Michela?”
“You want me to tie you up?” Michela moved back, “Ummm… my experience is only tying up girls to f-ck them or for a professional shoot.”
“Well, now, a good step in the right direction is to start by not so casually saying things in such dirty terms. You tie them up for dirty play,” the little girl could be so sweet.
“Hannah and I share that bed behind you,” my girlfriend was casual and honest, “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust myself not to do something sexual to you.”
“Just try… I don’t know your story. I only see that there is a good person locked inside you and buried under some sort of trauma. Whatever healing you need, a good place to start is being able to tie me up without just jumping into grinding me.”
“You just met me,” Michela clutched her St. Michael medal, “And yet you love me!”
“Go for it,” I rubbed Michela’s back, “You can do it. Nichole and I will make sure it’s OK.”
“I spent four years inside, and no one ever so blindly cared for me like this except for my mother, my sisters, and Hannah,” my girlfriend stood up, “I’ll tie you up with anything you want.”
Jenny simply handed a knapsack over to Michela. Opening the bag and peering inside, Michela was a bit overwhelmed by the choice in ropes, tapes, bandanas, and other gag materials. Inside was a new toy that neither of us had ever seen, and Michela and I studied the oddity. It was a big blue rubber ball, a dog toy; through the holes of the hollow sphere was a black bandana. Jenny had a kind of ball gag? How bizarre! Quickly, Jenny explained how the same bondage sorority, the one from which Joyce, Cassie, and Emilia had come, gave these to her and her friends after a forced hazing ritual at the start of the fall semester. She had a half dozen of the balls in her bag. Michela hefted one with a screwed up look on her face; could she use it on someone else?
“Hannah, can I do it?” she asked me nervously, “It’s a ball gag, albeit a cheesy homemade one.”
“Use it on Jenny? Yeah!” I encouraged her, “Don’t let the past affect Jenny’s happiness today.”
“If you use it, make sure to wrap Jenny’s face up good with something else afterwards,” Nichole laughed, “She doesn’t like drooling.”
“Maybe I’ll use it then,” Michela tossed it to Nichole and grabbed a coil of pink rope, “I can do this.”
“Go for it, girl! You can do it!” I could see Michela shaking a bit with fear of our respective out of control sexualities.
“I might run away if you’re too slow! Maybe you should all gang up and pin me down!” Jenny was a glutton for punishment.
“Come on! Let’s get that Gangsta Princess!”
So we all tackled Jenny, and Michela got a taste of a girl who was not only flexible but could be left in elbow bondage as long as you wanted her to remain tied up. Jenny was no ordinary girl in any regard: a huge heart, super flexible, an insatiable taste for bondage that included enjoying the game most when it was nonconsensual, a small stature, an obsession with bandanas, and a sharp mind. Was it any wonder most people loved her back?
We roped her up so well. Elbows, wrists, ankles, knees, thighs, and mid thighs were all roped together. A tighter and much more detailed breast harness than the kind that the Moreau's liked and a waist rope crush her arms. Bondage isn't complete without a gag, and Jenny got to eat that rubber ball at Michela’s hand. Michela shook while she tied the knot on the gag, before leaving the tape portion to Nichole. Michela sat down on the futon and stared in wonder at her captive on the bed. I gave my girlfriend what could be called a congratulatory kiss .
“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” I looked into eyes filled with wonder and fear.
“All right, your turn, Gangsta Queen,” I easily held Nichole down single-handedly.
“Now, this isn't necessary,” Nichole looked at me and smiled.
“Actually, it is!” Michela took over, “Gosh, you're as nice as Hannah said you are.”
“Dang, you two girls are strong!”
“Daily exercise in juvie does that; exercise or go in solitary. You’ll take the muscle,” I laughed, “Sometimes we’d exercise on weekends too.”
“Halfway between full prison and a strict boarding school, eh?”
“No, Nichole… it really was prison,” a mist covered my eyes, “Unis, armed guards, cells, strict schedules, tight rules…”
“Oh,” she ceased her observations, “There is a bright side; without things working out the way they did you wouldn't have your awesome job and these amazing friends!”
“Come on,” Michela’s digressed as always, “Tie her up!”
Michela held Nichole down, though, so that I could have a chance to kidnap a friend who had unconditionally loved me. I saw from Michela’s eyes that she wasn't hurt by Nichole's questions like I was, and it was apparent that her digression was to distract me. I felt lifeless and drained so much of the time, and this time was no different. On this occasion, though, I had a little something to enjoy.
Nichole was right, though. Without prison, I never would have met the beautiful girls I am proud to call my friends except Kendra. Maybe there was a good divine power that would sometimes make a niggling suggestion to make a harmless decision with huge repercussions, and when we decided to obey or disobey that thought we set off a chain reaction as opposed to our meaningless choice over whether to eat Reese’s Puffs or Honey Smacks for breakfast?
How I tied Nichole varied a little. My friend wasn't nearly as flexible as me let alone Jenny, so I put her arms in a boxtie with the harness and a waist rope since I wasn't sure how she felt about crotch ropes. Both girls deserved my best for giving me their best first; that's why I blindfolded them each with an orange bandana!
“Well, you have to gag me, or I might scream for help,” Nichole smiled despite being unable to see.
“I know!” I almost squealed as I said that and pulled Nichole’s sneakers off her feet, “Do it to Jenny, sweetie.”
“All right!” Michela grinned when I pulled Nichole’s socks off her feet.
“I’m in deep trouble,” Nichole’s smile grew wider.
“Eat up!” I jammed the socks in Nichole’s mouth.
“Mmmmmm!” she groaned and shuddered as I taped her mouth shut.
That’s what I did. I gagged Nichole with her own socks. Dirty socks, mind you. Socks that had driven here from St. Croix Falls, an hour-long ride, and gone clothes shopping. On top of that, each of our friends got one of their own sneakers pulled over their nose and laced behind their head so that they had to smell it.
“You're a naughty girl, Hannah. You're so cute when you're having fun,” Michela spoke softly.
“Thanks. I try to shine the light when I’m happy,” I meant my words more than ever.
“I love you, my Valentine,” she teased me with an erotic kiss.
“Not now,” I blushed, “Today is about not just us, but us with them. A different kind of love.”
“I’m genuinely touched. I go everywhere imagining that everyone knows me as the girl from the news… and they act like I never hurt a fly in my life.”
“That’s Jenny and Nichole for you.”
The gross gag was just right for my friend. Was I really thinking of taking photos for the Cool Girls’ Club Facebook group? I had considered it, but I let my shame prevail and didn't do it. Nichole had the fulfillment of many dreams, the desire to once again have my friendship. I sure gave her a token of the highest friendship, didn't I?
“Would you kidnap this? Hmmm?” Michela asks me in a quiet tone while handling a roll of red duct tape.
“Are you asking me to tape you up?” I asked not knowing why she’d want that.
“First time for everything?” she said, “Just no gags of tape strips allowed.”
“For my Valentine, I will do it,” I responded, “We need to occasionally have fun without sex.”
“Please? I might be a mischievous Gangsta like Jenny and Nichole here.”
“Let’s do this!” I responded knowing that Michela was trying to help me overcome the past.
Michela wanted to be taped with red because of the red heart on her shirt, I suspect. I taped her crossed wrists behind her back and also wrapped the strip around her waist and over her shirt in a professional swoop. After tying Jenny and Nichole, I was only interested in the tying part of this. I took a white handkerchief out of the bag, made a big knot in the middle, and gagged Michela with that.
I taped Michela on either side of her breasts in another strong motion, and I encased her legs in it with only her knees and heels left exposed. I had even taped her feet. A blindfold or a tape gag would have worked if I wanted to terrorize my girlfriend, but taping a shoe to her face made her happy. For the first time ever, I took a picture of Michela, a Cool Girls’ style picture, while she was bound and gagged, and I did the same with Jenny and Nichole. I decided that I would not post them anywhere though.
I was still coming to grips with this strange old reality. Jenny and Nichole forgave me for what I did to them and their friend four years ago. They had moved on from that and were instead extending an olive branch to me. No, not an olive branch; they were actually going beyond offering me a second chance at friendship and telling me I was still their friend. This was my opportunity to right one of the only mistakes of my past that could even be righted. My only other opportunities had been taken: to befriend Casey and to help Kendra.
“Jenny, please, when you get back to school, call Kendra. She's too proud to do it on her own even though she knows it's what she needs,” I asked my gagged friend.
“Mmm!” Jenny nodded in understanding and studied her bonds.
“Thanks,” I gave her a hug and started crying, “for coming out here today.”
“Awww,” the lovable girl nestled herself into me, “It’th ohay.”
“I never thought anyone outside of juvie could ever love me again, and you proved me wrong. You two,” I wrapped an arm around Nichole too, “are wonderful.”
“Tho are -ou,” Nichole's words touched me deeply.
I had such an amazing opportunity here. I watched in the car and store as Michela did better than me at becoming comfortable with Jenny and Nichole. We could go beyond just me resuming a true relationship with the beautiful souls of the Cool Girls’ Club. I could be the link a third time. I was the main link in the friendships that existed in my circle of juvie rejects, making a big circle of Michela, Mary-Ann, Kylie, Kendra, and me. I had been the link between them and bondage modeling and us discovering our own fetishes, kinks, and sexualities. Now through Joyce, Casey, and these two girls in my bedroom, I could link the misfits to the Cool Girls’ Club, a circle of friends who all have taken a vow to unconditionally love and help each other, as best expressed in the game of TUGs. Unconditionally… yep, they chose to love me despite all my evil deeds.
“You're gorgeous,” I gave Michela a kiss while knowing I couldn't go too far.
“Mmmmm!” Jenny and Nichole groaned from their seats on the futon.
“I… I love you girls,” I said while sitting between them with Michela across our laps.
“Awwww,” Jenny blushed despite her bondage.
“Grrmmm!” Michela groaned because I was mindlessly grabbing her tits.
“Thanks for coming out here today.”
I couldn't bring myself to do anything more with them besides enjoying their presence in this room. We simply basked in the friendship while the afternoon sun shone brightly into the converted attic space that served as the bedroom I shared with my precious Michela. I had a lot of precious people in my life; Nichole was right that I had been blessed with amazing friends who had suffered alongside me.
I am sorry there isn't more to say, but the rest of the time was one-sided conversation with my gagged friends. I untied them, and we promised to keep in touch and that we would see each other during the weekend ahead of my spring break week so Michela and I could see Minnesota Tech, the school Jenny and Nichole attended.
Hearts of gold those two have.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” my gorgeous Valentine and I sat on the futon that night.
“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you,” I shuddered, “I should have told you.”
“You didn’t have to tell me,” Michela admitted, “I knew from Mrs. Copley.”
“Mrs. Copley?! She told you?!”
“Well, after your brief run-in with Kylie, we knew something bad was afoot. Mrs. Copley told me what was happening because she knew we cared. Kendra visited and told us as well.”
“I’ve made so many bad decisions, but loving you is a good one.”
“How about I put your bandana in my crotch, we’ll grind until it’s soaked in my cum, and then I will gag you with it? Hmmm?” Michela peered into my eyes, “And I will steal you just like you stole my heart when you fought that prison bully.”
Remember those thoughts I struggle with and mentioned in Chapter 2? They were at the surface at this moment. I was terrorized by them, and no surprise tonight I had my first night terror since I had moved in with the Palmeri’s. I accepted Michela’s proposal and let her steal me. Strength and love bound me in something harsher than the usual clothesline: real rope. Thinner and even stronger rope was tying me tightly with a mock reverse prayer where my hands were on my shoulder blades; Michela learned well.
Then the gag came. That scrumptious gag was so good, so erotic, so arousing I cummed before I was tape gagged. Michela’s cum tasted best of all because hers was infused with love whereas my own was just that, my own. I was gagged with a strip of foam core tape which held the package together in my mouth. Foam core tape was another surprise that I guess she learned from the Moreau’s
I was down to my orange underwear, female briefs and a sports bra, for this and comfortable with a tight harness and lots of spots where rope tied my legs. The final surprise came in the form of a string tying my big toes. I wasn’t going anywhere even if I had somewhere to go! I lay on the bed while Michela strutted back and forth studying me and running her hands over my body. She is perfect in the long red skirt, black turtleneck t-shirt with the big bright red heart on it, black socks, black flats, and black bandana headband.
“Hannah, can… may… I’m…,” my girlfriend stands with hands folded, uncertain of what to do.
“Hmmm?” I look into her eyes from my position on the bed.
“May I… blindfold you? I bought something else… for us,” she is hiding something.
“Mmmm,” I nodded as I hadn’t the fears that she did.
“I wanted this to be a surprise,” she sat down next to me, “A special game just for you.”
“Awwww, ah uv ou.”
It was special indeed. I was hooded with Michela's underwear, held in place with a rubber band that gathered the excess. A purple bandana blindfolded me. Michela sat propped up in the corner of the bed watching hockey. In the plug near her was a wand that was roped to my thigh and buzzing on my crotch. I had to find her crotch without help and rub her carpet until she orgasmed, complete with getting my head under her long flowing skirt.
What a game! It was so hard to get my head under the soft fabric, and it was made all the more erotic by Michela pulling the bed covers over us once I found her crotch, and she made sure to fix her skirt. I was buried and rubbing my mouth against her crotch, but before she orgasmed I orgasmed from the vibrator. In that time, Michela reached under to remove my gag. Farewell to my bandana, soaked in Michela’s cum. Instead, I got the reward of a genuine carpet. When Michela orgasmed, I made sure I licked it all off. Let me tell you that eating crotch, whether c-ck or p-ssy, absolutely rocks.
“Michela, how about you gag me again and dominate me?”
“I still have it right here,” she smiled.
For the next hour, Michela forgot even hockey for the sake of Valentine’s Day. Kisses from her were heavenly, and Michela was such a blend of kinky and sexy. Forcing me to eat her carpet, grinding me, sensuously kissing my face, neck, and tits, and groping my tits were all part of it. We orgasmed several times in that hour, and when Michela finally untied me we fell asleep in the bed without ever putting on pajamas.
“We should take turns. I know you like force feeding, but I like to be tied.”
Then the night terror came.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Which scene comes next for Hannah?
The smell of the tape. The sound of it coming off the roll. The feel of it against my skin. That distinctive odor… that sound… unwillingly taped, my socks in my mouth, the tape around my face and that strong smell of it, and then getting senselessly r-ped for an hour. Taken down to the basement, and attached to that heavy duty pipe. My body, crushed in tape: my torso, rigid against the pipe. My breasts pushed out by the adhesive. The way it sticks to my skin. The way it shines in even the slightest light.
When I opened my eyes, I was on the futon. Jenny and Nichole sat on the bed with distraught faces. They had done their homework. Both faces were soaked with tears, and I turned and realized Michela was holding my hand and also crying. I had ruined everything for everyone.
“Jenny, I’m sorry for ripping you like that,” I said as emphatically as I could.
“Why didn't you ask us to help you sooner?” Nichole shook a bit.
“Because I knew it was either take him down or die trying, and I almost died trying.”
“I’m sorry it's been a lousy Valentine's,” Michela was hurt by my pain.
“Hannah, I’m sorry I didn't help you more when what you needed most was friendship,” Jenny couldn't stop crying.
“Screw that,” I sat up, “I had no one then. I was homeless for a spell. You're here now. That's what matters more. Sit down. You here, Nichole, and Jenny you squeeze in between me and Michela.”
They sat down as I requested, and both friends kissed me on the cheeks, and Jenny had one for Michela too. Jenny loved everyone no matter what. Nichole cried harder because she had visited me so many times, and I knew she felt a bit betrayed. Could I tell them myself? I had to come clean to someone, and this was my chance.
“The news reports are one quarter of the story…”
I proceeded to describe things like I had for Dr. Sheridan. Even more than that: I was recounting the story in vivid detail like when I was testifying against Greg both when I was giving my statements to the police and when I was on the stand. Nary a word of interruption followed. I went back and confessed my shame at my actions and how I chose to go down the road of using and slinging drugs rather than reforming myself and asking forgiveness of my friends.
“Jenny, Nichole… I’m sorry I was so selfish and that I distrusted you two.”
“Hannah Bandana,” Nichole wrapped an arm around me, “I forgive you.”
“I forgave you a long time ago,” Jenny took my hand, “And been praying that God would one day safely bring you back into our lives. Can you forgive us for maybe not trying hard enough to be there for you?”
“I certainly can, especially since I tried to hide from you. You wouldn't be here now if Casey hadn't been so persistent.”
“Casey talks so much about you that it's amazing; she's your guardian angel,” Michela blurted out.
“Casey talks to you?!” I turned to Michela in shock and only received a smile back.
“Does she ever care about you,” Nichole tightened her hug, “Our friend, the bondage model.”
Friend! Nichole said I was their friend! Why?! I didn't understand anything except that I started crying again. They really had forgiven me long before and had made up both of their minds to welcome me into their lives with open arms. A platonic kiss was planted on each of their cheeks. So I could kiss a girl without it being sexual after all; that was a first since prison.
► Show Spoiler
“You want me to tie you up?” Michela moved back, “Ummm… my experience is only tying up girls to f-ck them or for a professional shoot.”
“Well, now, a good step in the right direction is to start by not so casually saying things in such dirty terms. You tie them up for dirty play,” the little girl could be so sweet.
“Hannah and I share that bed behind you,” my girlfriend was casual and honest, “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust myself not to do something sexual to you.”
“Just try… I don’t know your story. I only see that there is a good person locked inside you and buried under some sort of trauma. Whatever healing you need, a good place to start is being able to tie me up without just jumping into grinding me.”
“You just met me,” Michela clutched her St. Michael medal, “And yet you love me!”
“Go for it,” I rubbed Michela’s back, “You can do it. Nichole and I will make sure it’s OK.”
“I spent four years inside, and no one ever so blindly cared for me like this except for my mother, my sisters, and Hannah,” my girlfriend stood up, “I’ll tie you up with anything you want.”
Jenny simply handed a knapsack over to Michela. Opening the bag and peering inside, Michela was a bit overwhelmed by the choice in ropes, tapes, bandanas, and other gag materials. Inside was a new toy that neither of us had ever seen, and Michela and I studied the oddity. It was a big blue rubber ball, a dog toy; through the holes of the hollow sphere was a black bandana. Jenny had a kind of ball gag? How bizarre! Quickly, Jenny explained how the same bondage sorority, the one from which Joyce, Cassie, and Emilia had come, gave these to her and her friends after a forced hazing ritual at the start of the fall semester. She had a half dozen of the balls in her bag. Michela hefted one with a screwed up look on her face; could she use it on someone else?
“Hannah, can I do it?” she asked me nervously, “It’s a ball gag, albeit a cheesy homemade one.”
“Use it on Jenny? Yeah!” I encouraged her, “Don’t let the past affect Jenny’s happiness today.”
“If you use it, make sure to wrap Jenny’s face up good with something else afterwards,” Nichole laughed, “She doesn’t like drooling.”
“Maybe I’ll use it then,” Michela tossed it to Nichole and grabbed a coil of pink rope, “I can do this.”
“Go for it, girl! You can do it!” I could see Michela shaking a bit with fear of our respective out of control sexualities.
“I might run away if you’re too slow! Maybe you should all gang up and pin me down!” Jenny was a glutton for punishment.
“Come on! Let’s get that Gangsta Princess!”
So we all tackled Jenny, and Michela got a taste of a girl who was not only flexible but could be left in elbow bondage as long as you wanted her to remain tied up. Jenny was no ordinary girl in any regard: a huge heart, super flexible, an insatiable taste for bondage that included enjoying the game most when it was nonconsensual, a small stature, an obsession with bandanas, and a sharp mind. Was it any wonder most people loved her back?
We roped her up so well. Elbows, wrists, ankles, knees, thighs, and mid thighs were all roped together. A tighter and much more detailed breast harness than the kind that the Moreau's liked and a waist rope crush her arms. Bondage isn't complete without a gag, and Jenny got to eat that rubber ball at Michela’s hand. Michela shook while she tied the knot on the gag, before leaving the tape portion to Nichole. Michela sat down on the futon and stared in wonder at her captive on the bed. I gave my girlfriend what could be called a congratulatory kiss .
“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” I looked into eyes filled with wonder and fear.
► Show Spoiler
“Now, this isn't necessary,” Nichole looked at me and smiled.
“Actually, it is!” Michela took over, “Gosh, you're as nice as Hannah said you are.”
“Dang, you two girls are strong!”
“Daily exercise in juvie does that; exercise or go in solitary. You’ll take the muscle,” I laughed, “Sometimes we’d exercise on weekends too.”
“Halfway between full prison and a strict boarding school, eh?”
“No, Nichole… it really was prison,” a mist covered my eyes, “Unis, armed guards, cells, strict schedules, tight rules…”
“Oh,” she ceased her observations, “There is a bright side; without things working out the way they did you wouldn't have your awesome job and these amazing friends!”
“Come on,” Michela’s digressed as always, “Tie her up!”
Michela held Nichole down, though, so that I could have a chance to kidnap a friend who had unconditionally loved me. I saw from Michela’s eyes that she wasn't hurt by Nichole's questions like I was, and it was apparent that her digression was to distract me. I felt lifeless and drained so much of the time, and this time was no different. On this occasion, though, I had a little something to enjoy.
Nichole was right, though. Without prison, I never would have met the beautiful girls I am proud to call my friends except Kendra. Maybe there was a good divine power that would sometimes make a niggling suggestion to make a harmless decision with huge repercussions, and when we decided to obey or disobey that thought we set off a chain reaction as opposed to our meaningless choice over whether to eat Reese’s Puffs or Honey Smacks for breakfast?
How I tied Nichole varied a little. My friend wasn't nearly as flexible as me let alone Jenny, so I put her arms in a boxtie with the harness and a waist rope since I wasn't sure how she felt about crotch ropes. Both girls deserved my best for giving me their best first; that's why I blindfolded them each with an orange bandana!
“Well, you have to gag me, or I might scream for help,” Nichole smiled despite being unable to see.
“I know!” I almost squealed as I said that and pulled Nichole’s sneakers off her feet, “Do it to Jenny, sweetie.”
“All right!” Michela grinned when I pulled Nichole’s socks off her feet.
“I’m in deep trouble,” Nichole’s smile grew wider.
“Eat up!” I jammed the socks in Nichole’s mouth.
“Mmmmmm!” she groaned and shuddered as I taped her mouth shut.
That’s what I did. I gagged Nichole with her own socks. Dirty socks, mind you. Socks that had driven here from St. Croix Falls, an hour-long ride, and gone clothes shopping. On top of that, each of our friends got one of their own sneakers pulled over their nose and laced behind their head so that they had to smell it.
“You're a naughty girl, Hannah. You're so cute when you're having fun,” Michela spoke softly.
“Thanks. I try to shine the light when I’m happy,” I meant my words more than ever.
“I love you, my Valentine,” she teased me with an erotic kiss.
“Not now,” I blushed, “Today is about not just us, but us with them. A different kind of love.”
“I’m genuinely touched. I go everywhere imagining that everyone knows me as the girl from the news… and they act like I never hurt a fly in my life.”
“That’s Jenny and Nichole for you.”
The gross gag was just right for my friend. Was I really thinking of taking photos for the Cool Girls’ Club Facebook group? I had considered it, but I let my shame prevail and didn't do it. Nichole had the fulfillment of many dreams, the desire to once again have my friendship. I sure gave her a token of the highest friendship, didn't I?
► Show Spoiler
“Are you asking me to tape you up?” I asked not knowing why she’d want that.
“First time for everything?” she said, “Just no gags of tape strips allowed.”
“For my Valentine, I will do it,” I responded, “We need to occasionally have fun without sex.”
“Please? I might be a mischievous Gangsta like Jenny and Nichole here.”
“Let’s do this!” I responded knowing that Michela was trying to help me overcome the past.
Michela wanted to be taped with red because of the red heart on her shirt, I suspect. I taped her crossed wrists behind her back and also wrapped the strip around her waist and over her shirt in a professional swoop. After tying Jenny and Nichole, I was only interested in the tying part of this. I took a white handkerchief out of the bag, made a big knot in the middle, and gagged Michela with that.
I taped Michela on either side of her breasts in another strong motion, and I encased her legs in it with only her knees and heels left exposed. I had even taped her feet. A blindfold or a tape gag would have worked if I wanted to terrorize my girlfriend, but taping a shoe to her face made her happy. For the first time ever, I took a picture of Michela, a Cool Girls’ style picture, while she was bound and gagged, and I did the same with Jenny and Nichole. I decided that I would not post them anywhere though.
I was still coming to grips with this strange old reality. Jenny and Nichole forgave me for what I did to them and their friend four years ago. They had moved on from that and were instead extending an olive branch to me. No, not an olive branch; they were actually going beyond offering me a second chance at friendship and telling me I was still their friend. This was my opportunity to right one of the only mistakes of my past that could even be righted. My only other opportunities had been taken: to befriend Casey and to help Kendra.
“Jenny, please, when you get back to school, call Kendra. She's too proud to do it on her own even though she knows it's what she needs,” I asked my gagged friend.
“Mmm!” Jenny nodded in understanding and studied her bonds.
“Thanks,” I gave her a hug and started crying, “for coming out here today.”
“Awww,” the lovable girl nestled herself into me, “It’th ohay.”
“I never thought anyone outside of juvie could ever love me again, and you proved me wrong. You two,” I wrapped an arm around Nichole too, “are wonderful.”
“Tho are -ou,” Nichole's words touched me deeply.
I had such an amazing opportunity here. I watched in the car and store as Michela did better than me at becoming comfortable with Jenny and Nichole. We could go beyond just me resuming a true relationship with the beautiful souls of the Cool Girls’ Club. I could be the link a third time. I was the main link in the friendships that existed in my circle of juvie rejects, making a big circle of Michela, Mary-Ann, Kylie, Kendra, and me. I had been the link between them and bondage modeling and us discovering our own fetishes, kinks, and sexualities. Now through Joyce, Casey, and these two girls in my bedroom, I could link the misfits to the Cool Girls’ Club, a circle of friends who all have taken a vow to unconditionally love and help each other, as best expressed in the game of TUGs. Unconditionally… yep, they chose to love me despite all my evil deeds.
“You're gorgeous,” I gave Michela a kiss while knowing I couldn't go too far.
“Mmmmm!” Jenny and Nichole groaned from their seats on the futon.
“I… I love you girls,” I said while sitting between them with Michela across our laps.
“Awwww,” Jenny blushed despite her bondage.
“Grrmmm!” Michela groaned because I was mindlessly grabbing her tits.
“Thanks for coming out here today.”
I couldn't bring myself to do anything more with them besides enjoying their presence in this room. We simply basked in the friendship while the afternoon sun shone brightly into the converted attic space that served as the bedroom I shared with my precious Michela. I had a lot of precious people in my life; Nichole was right that I had been blessed with amazing friends who had suffered alongside me.
I am sorry there isn't more to say, but the rest of the time was one-sided conversation with my gagged friends. I untied them, and we promised to keep in touch and that we would see each other during the weekend ahead of my spring break week so Michela and I could see Minnesota Tech, the school Jenny and Nichole attended.
Hearts of gold those two have.
► Show Spoiler
“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you,” I shuddered, “I should have told you.”
“You didn’t have to tell me,” Michela admitted, “I knew from Mrs. Copley.”
“Mrs. Copley?! She told you?!”
“Well, after your brief run-in with Kylie, we knew something bad was afoot. Mrs. Copley told me what was happening because she knew we cared. Kendra visited and told us as well.”
“I’ve made so many bad decisions, but loving you is a good one.”
“How about I put your bandana in my crotch, we’ll grind until it’s soaked in my cum, and then I will gag you with it? Hmmm?” Michela peered into my eyes, “And I will steal you just like you stole my heart when you fought that prison bully.”
Remember those thoughts I struggle with and mentioned in Chapter 2? They were at the surface at this moment. I was terrorized by them, and no surprise tonight I had my first night terror since I had moved in with the Palmeri’s. I accepted Michela’s proposal and let her steal me. Strength and love bound me in something harsher than the usual clothesline: real rope. Thinner and even stronger rope was tying me tightly with a mock reverse prayer where my hands were on my shoulder blades; Michela learned well.
Then the gag came. That scrumptious gag was so good, so erotic, so arousing I cummed before I was tape gagged. Michela’s cum tasted best of all because hers was infused with love whereas my own was just that, my own. I was gagged with a strip of foam core tape which held the package together in my mouth. Foam core tape was another surprise that I guess she learned from the Moreau’s
I was down to my orange underwear, female briefs and a sports bra, for this and comfortable with a tight harness and lots of spots where rope tied my legs. The final surprise came in the form of a string tying my big toes. I wasn’t going anywhere even if I had somewhere to go! I lay on the bed while Michela strutted back and forth studying me and running her hands over my body. She is perfect in the long red skirt, black turtleneck t-shirt with the big bright red heart on it, black socks, black flats, and black bandana headband.
“Hannah, can… may… I’m…,” my girlfriend stands with hands folded, uncertain of what to do.
“Hmmm?” I look into her eyes from my position on the bed.
“May I… blindfold you? I bought something else… for us,” she is hiding something.
“Mmmm,” I nodded as I hadn’t the fears that she did.
“I wanted this to be a surprise,” she sat down next to me, “A special game just for you.”
“Awwww, ah uv ou.”
It was special indeed. I was hooded with Michela's underwear, held in place with a rubber band that gathered the excess. A purple bandana blindfolded me. Michela sat propped up in the corner of the bed watching hockey. In the plug near her was a wand that was roped to my thigh and buzzing on my crotch. I had to find her crotch without help and rub her carpet until she orgasmed, complete with getting my head under her long flowing skirt.
What a game! It was so hard to get my head under the soft fabric, and it was made all the more erotic by Michela pulling the bed covers over us once I found her crotch, and she made sure to fix her skirt. I was buried and rubbing my mouth against her crotch, but before she orgasmed I orgasmed from the vibrator. In that time, Michela reached under to remove my gag. Farewell to my bandana, soaked in Michela’s cum. Instead, I got the reward of a genuine carpet. When Michela orgasmed, I made sure I licked it all off. Let me tell you that eating crotch, whether c-ck or p-ssy, absolutely rocks.
“Michela, how about you gag me again and dominate me?”
“I still have it right here,” she smiled.
For the next hour, Michela forgot even hockey for the sake of Valentine’s Day. Kisses from her were heavenly, and Michela was such a blend of kinky and sexy. Forcing me to eat her carpet, grinding me, sensuously kissing my face, neck, and tits, and groping my tits were all part of it. We orgasmed several times in that hour, and when Michela finally untied me we fell asleep in the bed without ever putting on pajamas.
“We should take turns. I know you like force feeding, but I like to be tied.”
Then the night terror came.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Which scene comes next for Hannah?
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!
Given the lack of interest in this chapter, I am going to go ahead and pause the poll here and move forward based on "E" winning this one.
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!
Story 8 Chapter 1: Old Girls
February 28, 2015
“No… Greg, no! Don't do this, please, baby. I… mmpphhh!” I was suddenly gagged.
“Shhhhh,” I felt a hand on my face and lips gently kissing me, “I’m here.”
“Mmmmm,” I burst into tears, “Guh huh huh huhhhhh!”
“Hannah, he can't hurt you anymore, and I’m here and love you,” our lips meet.
Since the events of the last tale, I had had 9 night terrors in 14 nights. I woke up at various times throughout the night, but most often was 1AM. I guess it was because 1AM was about the time I realized he really was trying to end my life. I don’t know, and didn’t know.
“Hannah, remember on Valentine’s Day I wanted to ask you something?” Michela whispered.
“Vaguely,” that day was emotionally tough for me.
“Do you love me, or do you love my p-ssy?”
“I love you, Michela; if you said you didn’t want to be lovers, I’d still love you as my bestie.”
“I want to be lovers, but I wanted to be sure it wasn’t just a body thing like my dad.”
“Nothing of the kind,” I whispered and put a finger near her heart, “I’m here for you.”
In the darkness, I saw tears pouring down Michela’s cheeks. All this time she’d never once cried for herself like this. She cried because she was scared or felt bad for others or was happy or felt lost in life, but never had she cried over what her father had done to her. We were crying together, over the pain we’d suffered alone and because of the pain brought to us because we knew the other had indeed suffered alone. I was never lonelier than when Greg was preparing me to die, and I only lived, in part, because of Stacy; Michela had only survived because of her mother and sisters.
“Hannah, I’m really asking you. Why’d he do it? Why?! I’ve been trying to figure it out for over 5 years now, and I still don't know,” she buried her face into my chest.
I gently kissed her on the forehead, and we hugged each other, not as lovers but as two girls who were traumatized and scared of the world and who had found understanding and comfort in the other. At that moment, we needed friendship. The loving embrace helped us both to calm down and get back to sleep.
One of the hardest things was accepting that there needn't be a routine for everything and that there was good homemade food. I was so used to eating nothing truly decent since November 2012 that I didn't know what to say when Mom Palmeri made us all a bowl of Italian corn porridge, bacon, and eggs for breakfast. I sat there dumbfounded almost every single morning before gasping “Thank you.” Often, it was followed by Michela and I going to eat breakfast in the cell bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I’d ask Michela when finding her in a prisoner's stance.
“Shh, no talking in line,” she’d whisper.
“Michela,” I’d start saying something about my book to her.
“It's quiet time,” would come back through her teeth.
“Hi, babe,” I’d randomly kiss her.
“What if a guard saw that?!”
Yet there was something beautiful in my new living arrangement. We always had an ear ready to listen; we grew more confident in revealing our joys and miseries, both past and present. Mrs. Palmeri had me call her “Mom” so I felt more at home. There was never a shortage of books. I could share my happiness with others when I did well on one of my college assignments. I had little sisters for the first time ever. But nothing could top Michela and I cuddling while she watched hockey.
It was a conflict, in a way. Mrs. Palmeri was devout in her religion, yet she chose to turn a blind eye to the relationship between me and Michela so long as we were not overly amorous outside the bedroom. I don't think Mom realized that Michela was a bondage model because Michela wasn't the type to go flouting wads of cash. It was Michela more than anyone else who let me know that my, ahem, lifestyle was quite a bad one in the eyes of her religion, yet she continued in it anyway because she found the benefits outweighed the negatives.
“When Michela came home, she was broken, empty, and dead; thank you for all you have done to revive the girl we loved,” and paraphrases frequently came from Mom.
Food. Good, homemade food! Mom and both grandmas were as good in the kitchen as Michela had told me when we were inside. I had never had so many yummy treats in my life until now, and it was frankly hard to keep myself from gaining weight. I had spent so much time starving and being underfed that I, even while living here, did not eat enough at meals despite there actually being enough; my body was used to the struggle of a 900-1200 calorie diet.
Little sisters were a delight too! Michela was 14 when she shot their father, with both sisters now having to adjust to a triple reality of no longer having a father, having their sister locked up for so long, and their father being a monster. Luisa was 11 and Sofia was 9 when that all happened, and even now at 15 and 13 it was hard.
Luisa, Sofia, and I had a good relationship with each other; we all loved Michela still despite her faults; and all three sisters in their own ways cared about me. Michela and I are obvious; Luisa saw me as an older friend; Sofia saw me as an extra sister. When there was neither hockey nor football to watch, we’d talk and play games together. I didn't have video games in my own home growing up, so I got pounded for the first few weeks before I got used to playing them.
Being here helped me realize something awful: that my childhood was dysfunctional. I remembered my CGC friends’ respective families, and then I saw the Palmeri’s. It made me realize that my own parents… never had loved me in the first place. I was never a child to raise and cherish; I was just there so my parents could puff out their chests and say “We have a daughter.”
“We're picking up Kylie, right?” Michela asked me blankly as I started my car.
“Yes, indeed, we are. Why?” I asked as I drove us away from the house.
“Maybe we can stop at that abandoned warehouse and have a threesome.”
“We can do that at M.A.’s too if you really want to do that,” I responded.
“We're all so sexy in ropes,” her mind wandered again.
“Yes, Michela, yes we are,” I laughed at her statement.
I could see now that it was going to be years before Michela truly overcame the inner emptiness that tormented her every second of her life; she had suppressed everything that made her who she was in an attempt to survive the horrors of what her father had done to her. Little things slowly surfaced, and when the brain would suddenly seize in a return to that self-defense mechanism only the things that came after she fired the gun would remain: horniness was the only new emotion she discovered after that day. It wasn't just the year of suffering; it was four years of prison on top of that.
“Hi, girls,” Kylie slides into the back seat, “How's life?”
“Awesome,” I responded, “I never knew what it's like to be loved by family.”
“You and Kendra have a lot in common, Hannah, like it or not,” she observed.
“You're always psychoanalyzing us!” I laughed at this.
“Maybe because I’m good at it, and so are you,” she was on fire with facts.
“You're both so hot,” Michela fanned herself, “Am I horny?”
“You're horny,” Kylie kept the retorts coming, “But so am I.”
“Hannah, can we pleeaaassseeee threesome?” Michela whined in an unusual manner.
Michela seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and every time she got on edge like this it usually meant something dark was going to come out. Our pillow talk from the previous night came back to me, and I knew she really was struggling. Kylie saw it right away, but I more easily denied such truths because I was Michela’s special friend.
Now, Mary-Ann, Kendra, and Kylie all had, since the last shoot with us all together at the Moreau’s, had one if not two scenes without me or Michela there. There was just too much demand for these hot 18 and 19 year old new girls on the scene! Frankly, I was tickled by it as were M.A. and Kylie; Kendra was simply happy to be good at her new job; Michela was both happy like me and distraught when Steve told us.
“They buy the videos, right Hannah?” she asked me in private.
“Well, yeah! People buy them individually or through a subscription service.”
“And then they watch those videos, right?” she shuddered.
“Exactly. They have various reasons for it,” I saw her direction and shuddered too.
“Which means that some of them are jerking off while imagining they're r-ping me!”
“Well, a random pedestrian that stumbles onto your Instagram can do that too.”
My reasoning made sense to Michela, and she began to see modeling as therapy for us more than as work. She was a paid, willing entertainer of different flavor; it was a far cry from what her father did to her. What some sicko in Georgia or Oregon did with a video of me bound and gagged had no bearing on me whatsoever. Michela embraced her perspective and let it shape her view of the industry; bondage is still both therapy and pleasure for her to this day.
“How is life together?” I asked my dear friends Kendra and Mary-Ann.
“I finally ditched the ankle monitor,” Kendra smiled, “And I no longer get beat.”
“Did you finally call Jenny?” I knew I was being bossy, but it was out of love.
“Yes, I did; I called her last week. Before you asked, she freaked with glee.”
“Maddy the Mad Girl? What do you have to say?”
“I’ve got a boyfriend!” the wild cat bounced, “So does Kennnnddraaaaa!”
“You mean you're dating,” I smile at them, “Kendra didn't say boyfriend when I saw her the other day.”
“Why don't Michela and I get invited on coffee dates?” Mary-Ann pouted.
“Because you don't drink coffee?”
Kylie, Kendra, and I ironically all had blonde hair. M.A. still doesn't drink coffee to this day, and Michela preferred espresso. Dunkin Donuts didn't provide that. Still, we three enjoyed it as it was our own unique group, but many times Kylie wasn't there. I grew close to Kendra through this, and I grew close to Kylie mostly through texting.
M.A. liked visits more, and she loved flopping on the futon in the attic and saying few or no words while I sat doing homework. The scene could also be seen with me at my desk and her on the floor or me on a bench and her on the grass. Mary-Ann knew that memories could be made in silence better than anyone else.
Perhaps that made today special. Kendra was going to be tied up by Kylie and I, and when Mary-Ann arrived to rescue her we were going to take her down as well. Such a simple premise offered us the opportunity to have fun, work on our skills, and see the two best friends react to a situation where they were tied together.
For myself, I chose a tight blue skirt with a thick fabric, a horizontally striped sweater, and a navy blue bandana headband, because I had to do it. Brown pantyhose and blue heels just finished the outfit in perfect fashion. I clacked the heels on the floor just for Michela’s eyes and ears.
The two dolls, Mary-Ann and Kendra, were already dressed and ready for captivity. We had not been here for the obligatory argument between Kendra and the other’s concerning heels and tits; I could deduce from Mary-Ann’s description of it that Kendra was slowly warming up to both of these elements, though. Both had a skirt, blouse, and hose though. Kendra’s blouse specifically was an icy blue sweater with a V neck; M.A.’s was similar but beige and with lace in the neck. Similarly, Kendra had a blue and brown plaid mini skirt, but M.A. had a shiny spotted beige. On the counter, I spotted both girl’s socks.
Tying up Kendra was a pleasure, but I was most interested in the dreadful experiment of a dirty laundry gag. Kendra offered no resistance for the opening bondage in which we bound Kendra’s lower legs in three places and her thighs. We chose a simple wrist bondage with a minimal chest harness consisting of ropes above and below her tits.
Lights. Camera. Action.
“You motherf-ckers let me go!” Kendra snarled as the film began.
“Hey, Star, how about this for a gag?” I tossed her Kendra’s socks and a white handkerchief.
“Those are my socks! You b-tches wouldn’t?!” I saw dread in Kendra’s eyes.
“We sure would!” Kylie responded and jammed the socks in Kendra’s mouth.
“What are you two maniacs doing?!” Mary-Ann cried from off screen, “Untie Penny now!”
“You are not getting past me!” I blocked the path to Kendra.
Mary-Ann might have been bigger, but I mentioned winning arm-wrestling contests in juvie. I had to beat M.A. to win one of those crowns; I was no slouch just because I was half of a foot to the shorter side of my friend. I had no trouble wrestling with Mary-Ann while Kylie gagged our other captive. I could hear Kendra retching on the gag with disgust, and I knew what would not occur in future Kendra scenes.
“Get off me!” Mary-Ann implored me with a whine.
“No way! Tying Penny first was the bait to get you here!” I boasted, “Star, gag this one too!”
“Yummy… scrumptious… dirty… socks! Eat this, you b-stard!” Kylie wedged the cotton in.
“UGH!” Mary-Ann ate what I thought was her first dirty cotton gag.
“There, there, Maddy! You shouldn’t have cheated to get that ‘A’ on that assignment,” I taunted her.
“Mmmmm!” she squealed loudly.
Tying up Mary-Ann brought joy to Kylie’s eyes; she had so much respect for each of us mostly because she was the youngest of us all even if she was my junior by only two months. M.A. got tied the same way as Kendra except for once minor difference: M.A. had big squishy beautiful French titties! Her big melons were so much softer than Kendra’s oranges.
Both girls squealed and tried to squirm away from the tortures being dished out by two bisexual girls; with Michela included, we had three girls who were into girls against two who were only into guys. The stuffed cleave gags caused both to grimace quite a bit, and Kendra definitely was going to be putting a heavier ban on dirty laundry gags than she currently had on heels or nudity. We had never discussed fondling with either, but we knew Mary-Ann enjoyed dishing out every type of groping. I had Kendra, and Kylie had M.A.
“Want to get the cheater, you kidnap her bestie,” I cackled loudly.
“If the professor won’t bust the cheater, you bust her yourself!” Kylie spanked Mary-Ann.
“MMMM!” M.A. groaned with delight.
“I guess we should leave them to suffer. We’ll take photos and shame them!” I suggested.
“Yeah, great idea!” Kylie added another spank.
“Let’s do it!” I fondled Kendra one last time.
Now we put them on the floor next to each other with both staring fearfully at the camera. Both let out a pitiful cry, with Mary-Ann’s being more of a distressed squeal. They mostly just moved their legs in and out for the initial portion. They were against each other like glue, and I realized now that even in acting they were already best friends of the greatest kind.
Kendra occasionally looked to Mary-Ann with great concern as if they were in real danger. Both girls wailed as pitifully as they could, and they twisted themselves to be back-to-back in hopes of untying each other. Mary-Ann looked at her friend with similar concern, mostly because of that dirty cotton in Kendra’s mouth, I think. Kendra then turned her head to look at M.A.
Kendra and Mary-Ann got up on their knees with the latter keeping an eye out for danger before they fell back against each other. Kendra briefly considered untying her friend’s ankles but had a moment of doubt before resuming. I had never seen this in so many years of knowing Kendra as I had; Kendra loved Mary-Ann! That wasn’t just friendship; that was love in Kendra’s blue eyes! No, I was wrong; Kendra was taking off Mary-Ann’s heels.
What ensued was now just wild struggle with the girls getting up on their knees, sitting against each other, and even having Kendra’s legs across M.A.’s. They conveyed fear so well that both Michela and Kylie were envious despite their own talents with it. Kendra then began yelling at Kylie and I through her gag; she was angry on Mary-Ann’s behalf too! Interestingly, this was the first time either of them had attempted to really talk.
Jenny and Nichole. Mary-Ann and Kendra. Hannah and Michela. This was a friendship of that caliber. This was an indescribable kind of friendship; words don’t do it justice. You just see it at work and marvel. I walked over to Michela, who was undecided on what to wear still, and took her hand in mine and kissed her on the cheek. Michela had been silently smirking and otherwise nervously fidgeting the entire time.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I said to my girlfriend.
“I’ve been thinking about lots of things: you girls, my father, Mr. Reardon,” she was on the verge of tears.
“Mr. Reardon brought us a lot of sorrow.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Michela spoke softly, “I can tell they’re thinking about him.”
“Is that how they’re creating that look of terror?” I felt a shudder go down my back.
“I think so. They escaped him more easily than we did.”
“Michela, they can’t hurt any of us any more,” I wrapped my arms around her.
Was this Kendra and Mary-Ann’s secret to things? Is this how Mary-Ann conveyed such a wide array of emotions during her scenes? It was an awful thought that none of us were virgins even if M.A. and Kendra weren’t the type to fool around. How could they channel the past and not let it define them so as to be better actresses?
I had a learning opportunity here, and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Which scene awaits Michela to go alongside Hannah’s scene?
February 28, 2015
“No… Greg, no! Don't do this, please, baby. I… mmpphhh!” I was suddenly gagged.
“Shhhhh,” I felt a hand on my face and lips gently kissing me, “I’m here.”
“Mmmmm,” I burst into tears, “Guh huh huh huhhhhh!”
“Hannah, he can't hurt you anymore, and I’m here and love you,” our lips meet.
Since the events of the last tale, I had had 9 night terrors in 14 nights. I woke up at various times throughout the night, but most often was 1AM. I guess it was because 1AM was about the time I realized he really was trying to end my life. I don’t know, and didn’t know.
“Hannah, remember on Valentine’s Day I wanted to ask you something?” Michela whispered.
“Vaguely,” that day was emotionally tough for me.
“Do you love me, or do you love my p-ssy?”
“I love you, Michela; if you said you didn’t want to be lovers, I’d still love you as my bestie.”
“I want to be lovers, but I wanted to be sure it wasn’t just a body thing like my dad.”
“Nothing of the kind,” I whispered and put a finger near her heart, “I’m here for you.”
In the darkness, I saw tears pouring down Michela’s cheeks. All this time she’d never once cried for herself like this. She cried because she was scared or felt bad for others or was happy or felt lost in life, but never had she cried over what her father had done to her. We were crying together, over the pain we’d suffered alone and because of the pain brought to us because we knew the other had indeed suffered alone. I was never lonelier than when Greg was preparing me to die, and I only lived, in part, because of Stacy; Michela had only survived because of her mother and sisters.
“Hannah, I’m really asking you. Why’d he do it? Why?! I’ve been trying to figure it out for over 5 years now, and I still don't know,” she buried her face into my chest.
I gently kissed her on the forehead, and we hugged each other, not as lovers but as two girls who were traumatized and scared of the world and who had found understanding and comfort in the other. At that moment, we needed friendship. The loving embrace helped us both to calm down and get back to sleep.
One of the hardest things was accepting that there needn't be a routine for everything and that there was good homemade food. I was so used to eating nothing truly decent since November 2012 that I didn't know what to say when Mom Palmeri made us all a bowl of Italian corn porridge, bacon, and eggs for breakfast. I sat there dumbfounded almost every single morning before gasping “Thank you.” Often, it was followed by Michela and I going to eat breakfast in the cell bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I’d ask Michela when finding her in a prisoner's stance.
“Shh, no talking in line,” she’d whisper.
“Michela,” I’d start saying something about my book to her.
“It's quiet time,” would come back through her teeth.
“Hi, babe,” I’d randomly kiss her.
“What if a guard saw that?!”
Yet there was something beautiful in my new living arrangement. We always had an ear ready to listen; we grew more confident in revealing our joys and miseries, both past and present. Mrs. Palmeri had me call her “Mom” so I felt more at home. There was never a shortage of books. I could share my happiness with others when I did well on one of my college assignments. I had little sisters for the first time ever. But nothing could top Michela and I cuddling while she watched hockey.
► Show Spoiler
“When Michela came home, she was broken, empty, and dead; thank you for all you have done to revive the girl we loved,” and paraphrases frequently came from Mom.
Food. Good, homemade food! Mom and both grandmas were as good in the kitchen as Michela had told me when we were inside. I had never had so many yummy treats in my life until now, and it was frankly hard to keep myself from gaining weight. I had spent so much time starving and being underfed that I, even while living here, did not eat enough at meals despite there actually being enough; my body was used to the struggle of a 900-1200 calorie diet.
Little sisters were a delight too! Michela was 14 when she shot their father, with both sisters now having to adjust to a triple reality of no longer having a father, having their sister locked up for so long, and their father being a monster. Luisa was 11 and Sofia was 9 when that all happened, and even now at 15 and 13 it was hard.
Luisa, Sofia, and I had a good relationship with each other; we all loved Michela still despite her faults; and all three sisters in their own ways cared about me. Michela and I are obvious; Luisa saw me as an older friend; Sofia saw me as an extra sister. When there was neither hockey nor football to watch, we’d talk and play games together. I didn't have video games in my own home growing up, so I got pounded for the first few weeks before I got used to playing them.
Being here helped me realize something awful: that my childhood was dysfunctional. I remembered my CGC friends’ respective families, and then I saw the Palmeri’s. It made me realize that my own parents… never had loved me in the first place. I was never a child to raise and cherish; I was just there so my parents could puff out their chests and say “We have a daughter.”
► Show Spoiler
“Yes, indeed, we are. Why?” I asked as I drove us away from the house.
“Maybe we can stop at that abandoned warehouse and have a threesome.”
“We can do that at M.A.’s too if you really want to do that,” I responded.
“We're all so sexy in ropes,” her mind wandered again.
“Yes, Michela, yes we are,” I laughed at her statement.
I could see now that it was going to be years before Michela truly overcame the inner emptiness that tormented her every second of her life; she had suppressed everything that made her who she was in an attempt to survive the horrors of what her father had done to her. Little things slowly surfaced, and when the brain would suddenly seize in a return to that self-defense mechanism only the things that came after she fired the gun would remain: horniness was the only new emotion she discovered after that day. It wasn't just the year of suffering; it was four years of prison on top of that.
“Hi, girls,” Kylie slides into the back seat, “How's life?”
“Awesome,” I responded, “I never knew what it's like to be loved by family.”
“You and Kendra have a lot in common, Hannah, like it or not,” she observed.
“You're always psychoanalyzing us!” I laughed at this.
“Maybe because I’m good at it, and so are you,” she was on fire with facts.
“You're both so hot,” Michela fanned herself, “Am I horny?”
“You're horny,” Kylie kept the retorts coming, “But so am I.”
“Hannah, can we pleeaaassseeee threesome?” Michela whined in an unusual manner.
Michela seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and every time she got on edge like this it usually meant something dark was going to come out. Our pillow talk from the previous night came back to me, and I knew she really was struggling. Kylie saw it right away, but I more easily denied such truths because I was Michela’s special friend.
Now, Mary-Ann, Kendra, and Kylie all had, since the last shoot with us all together at the Moreau’s, had one if not two scenes without me or Michela there. There was just too much demand for these hot 18 and 19 year old new girls on the scene! Frankly, I was tickled by it as were M.A. and Kylie; Kendra was simply happy to be good at her new job; Michela was both happy like me and distraught when Steve told us.
“They buy the videos, right Hannah?” she asked me in private.
“Well, yeah! People buy them individually or through a subscription service.”
“And then they watch those videos, right?” she shuddered.
“Exactly. They have various reasons for it,” I saw her direction and shuddered too.
“Which means that some of them are jerking off while imagining they're r-ping me!”
“Well, a random pedestrian that stumbles onto your Instagram can do that too.”
My reasoning made sense to Michela, and she began to see modeling as therapy for us more than as work. She was a paid, willing entertainer of different flavor; it was a far cry from what her father did to her. What some sicko in Georgia or Oregon did with a video of me bound and gagged had no bearing on me whatsoever. Michela embraced her perspective and let it shape her view of the industry; bondage is still both therapy and pleasure for her to this day.
► Show Spoiler
“I finally ditched the ankle monitor,” Kendra smiled, “And I no longer get beat.”
“Did you finally call Jenny?” I knew I was being bossy, but it was out of love.
“Yes, I did; I called her last week. Before you asked, she freaked with glee.”
“Maddy the Mad Girl? What do you have to say?”
“I’ve got a boyfriend!” the wild cat bounced, “So does Kennnnddraaaaa!”
“You mean you're dating,” I smile at them, “Kendra didn't say boyfriend when I saw her the other day.”
“Why don't Michela and I get invited on coffee dates?” Mary-Ann pouted.
“Because you don't drink coffee?”
Kylie, Kendra, and I ironically all had blonde hair. M.A. still doesn't drink coffee to this day, and Michela preferred espresso. Dunkin Donuts didn't provide that. Still, we three enjoyed it as it was our own unique group, but many times Kylie wasn't there. I grew close to Kendra through this, and I grew close to Kylie mostly through texting.
M.A. liked visits more, and she loved flopping on the futon in the attic and saying few or no words while I sat doing homework. The scene could also be seen with me at my desk and her on the floor or me on a bench and her on the grass. Mary-Ann knew that memories could be made in silence better than anyone else.
Perhaps that made today special. Kendra was going to be tied up by Kylie and I, and when Mary-Ann arrived to rescue her we were going to take her down as well. Such a simple premise offered us the opportunity to have fun, work on our skills, and see the two best friends react to a situation where they were tied together.
For myself, I chose a tight blue skirt with a thick fabric, a horizontally striped sweater, and a navy blue bandana headband, because I had to do it. Brown pantyhose and blue heels just finished the outfit in perfect fashion. I clacked the heels on the floor just for Michela’s eyes and ears.
The two dolls, Mary-Ann and Kendra, were already dressed and ready for captivity. We had not been here for the obligatory argument between Kendra and the other’s concerning heels and tits; I could deduce from Mary-Ann’s description of it that Kendra was slowly warming up to both of these elements, though. Both had a skirt, blouse, and hose though. Kendra’s blouse specifically was an icy blue sweater with a V neck; M.A.’s was similar but beige and with lace in the neck. Similarly, Kendra had a blue and brown plaid mini skirt, but M.A. had a shiny spotted beige. On the counter, I spotted both girl’s socks.
► Show Spoiler
Lights. Camera. Action.
“You motherf-ckers let me go!” Kendra snarled as the film began.
“Hey, Star, how about this for a gag?” I tossed her Kendra’s socks and a white handkerchief.
“Those are my socks! You b-tches wouldn’t?!” I saw dread in Kendra’s eyes.
“We sure would!” Kylie responded and jammed the socks in Kendra’s mouth.
“What are you two maniacs doing?!” Mary-Ann cried from off screen, “Untie Penny now!”
“You are not getting past me!” I blocked the path to Kendra.
Mary-Ann might have been bigger, but I mentioned winning arm-wrestling contests in juvie. I had to beat M.A. to win one of those crowns; I was no slouch just because I was half of a foot to the shorter side of my friend. I had no trouble wrestling with Mary-Ann while Kylie gagged our other captive. I could hear Kendra retching on the gag with disgust, and I knew what would not occur in future Kendra scenes.
“Get off me!” Mary-Ann implored me with a whine.
“No way! Tying Penny first was the bait to get you here!” I boasted, “Star, gag this one too!”
“Yummy… scrumptious… dirty… socks! Eat this, you b-stard!” Kylie wedged the cotton in.
“UGH!” Mary-Ann ate what I thought was her first dirty cotton gag.
“There, there, Maddy! You shouldn’t have cheated to get that ‘A’ on that assignment,” I taunted her.
“Mmmmm!” she squealed loudly.
Tying up Mary-Ann brought joy to Kylie’s eyes; she had so much respect for each of us mostly because she was the youngest of us all even if she was my junior by only two months. M.A. got tied the same way as Kendra except for once minor difference: M.A. had big squishy beautiful French titties! Her big melons were so much softer than Kendra’s oranges.
Both girls squealed and tried to squirm away from the tortures being dished out by two bisexual girls; with Michela included, we had three girls who were into girls against two who were only into guys. The stuffed cleave gags caused both to grimace quite a bit, and Kendra definitely was going to be putting a heavier ban on dirty laundry gags than she currently had on heels or nudity. We had never discussed fondling with either, but we knew Mary-Ann enjoyed dishing out every type of groping. I had Kendra, and Kylie had M.A.
“Want to get the cheater, you kidnap her bestie,” I cackled loudly.
“If the professor won’t bust the cheater, you bust her yourself!” Kylie spanked Mary-Ann.
“MMMM!” M.A. groaned with delight.
“I guess we should leave them to suffer. We’ll take photos and shame them!” I suggested.
“Yeah, great idea!” Kylie added another spank.
“Let’s do it!” I fondled Kendra one last time.
Now we put them on the floor next to each other with both staring fearfully at the camera. Both let out a pitiful cry, with Mary-Ann’s being more of a distressed squeal. They mostly just moved their legs in and out for the initial portion. They were against each other like glue, and I realized now that even in acting they were already best friends of the greatest kind.
Kendra occasionally looked to Mary-Ann with great concern as if they were in real danger. Both girls wailed as pitifully as they could, and they twisted themselves to be back-to-back in hopes of untying each other. Mary-Ann looked at her friend with similar concern, mostly because of that dirty cotton in Kendra’s mouth, I think. Kendra then turned her head to look at M.A.
► Show Spoiler
What ensued was now just wild struggle with the girls getting up on their knees, sitting against each other, and even having Kendra’s legs across M.A.’s. They conveyed fear so well that both Michela and Kylie were envious despite their own talents with it. Kendra then began yelling at Kylie and I through her gag; she was angry on Mary-Ann’s behalf too! Interestingly, this was the first time either of them had attempted to really talk.
Jenny and Nichole. Mary-Ann and Kendra. Hannah and Michela. This was a friendship of that caliber. This was an indescribable kind of friendship; words don’t do it justice. You just see it at work and marvel. I walked over to Michela, who was undecided on what to wear still, and took her hand in mine and kissed her on the cheek. Michela had been silently smirking and otherwise nervously fidgeting the entire time.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I said to my girlfriend.
“I’ve been thinking about lots of things: you girls, my father, Mr. Reardon,” she was on the verge of tears.
“Mr. Reardon brought us a lot of sorrow.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Michela spoke softly, “I can tell they’re thinking about him.”
“Is that how they’re creating that look of terror?” I felt a shudder go down my back.
“I think so. They escaped him more easily than we did.”
“Michela, they can’t hurt any of us any more,” I wrapped my arms around her.
Was this Kendra and Mary-Ann’s secret to things? Is this how Mary-Ann conveyed such a wide array of emotions during her scenes? It was an awful thought that none of us were virgins even if M.A. and Kendra weren’t the type to fool around. How could they channel the past and not let it define them so as to be better actresses?
I had a learning opportunity here, and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Which scene awaits Michela to go alongside Hannah’s scene?
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 very well written chapter. I vote B
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 forgot to tag the good readers. @charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp
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!
-
silvertejp590
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 100
- Joined: 3 years ago
@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp
The first vote was for B, and the only other vote was for D. In this story, we'll visit B, and in the next we'll visit D!
Story Correction
I realized that I have made some inconsistencies in the story of the character of Ashley Calland.
In Story 2, in January 2013, she appears as the victim Hannah defends Ashley from the bully Clarissa Sanchez.
In Story 4, in November 2012, she appears saying that she’s sad because her parents cannot visit her, that she fell for a theft scam, that she’s in the 11th month of her second imprisonment, and that she’s up for 18 months total.
In Story 6, she appears with the explanation that she, like Michela, used self-defense against her abuser and has no memories from ages 9 to 12.
In Story 7, she appears with the explanation that she is 14 years old and is the first arrest of 2014 and up for 3 years.
As a result, I have decided to be consistent with things and have gone back to modify the errors in Stories 2, 4, 6, and 7 and make the timeline tidier. The goal of these changes is twofold: (1) because Hannah goes to visit Ashley in juvie in Story 8, and (2) to lessen the age gap between her and Hannah. The goal is to make it so that Hannah is a college sophomore when Ashley is a freshman. There are similarities to multiple girl’s stories, and that’s intentional as well.
Ashley will be up for 3 years still with release scheduled for June 2015. She will turn 18 shortly after this. I am going to stick with the narrative of Story 6 because I have said she returns later in Hannah’s life and becomes a model as well, and the narrative in Story 4 would likely see her go home and never be seen or heard of again.
Story 8 Chapter 2: Friendship
The thought of tiny Kendra getting hurt by Mr. Reardon hurt me. When Michela explained how Kendra and Mary-Ann escaped his attention by pretending to like it and even flirting with him, I wasn’t too shocked that either would have such a quick wit and use it to turn a pervert to disgust in a way. Bullies and creeps only feed off fear and other such negative emotions. Michela didn’t have to do anything to escape him: he wasn’t interested in her. I understood Kylie better, too. It seemed he had a thing for blondes in particular.
The two damsels squirmed on the floor and squealed in their own ways. Kendra got up on her knees in an effort to try untying Mary-Ann’s wrists, but Kylie stopped that with a shove. Instead, she made the two sit together again. Kendra was so cute with her head on Mary-Ann’s shoulder; I saw M.A. looking out of the corner of her eyes to see if the coast was clear before turning back to her friend to squirm some more.
With a shriek of sorts, Kendra pulled her arms out of the ropes and unknotted the handkerchief; she spat out the sock and worked on untying herself. A mischievous smile was on Kendra’s face, and I wondered what she was going to say. I saw a bright sparkle in her eyes, though; friendship was about to do something naughty with Kendra playing with a run in Mary-Ann’s hose.
“Hel- -e!” Mary-Ann squealed.
“Help you? No way! I kept trying to untie you, you ungrateful b-tch, and you never tried to help me!”
“Mmmmm!”
“That’s right!” Kendra sat on Mary-Ann’s arms and grabbed a rope, “Take this cheater!”
“No no NOOOO!” Mary-Ann felt the hogtie forming.
“Star, sweetheart, since we got this cheater trapped, get me some duct tape,” Kendra grinned.
“Anything I can do?” I ask while leaving Michela’s side.
“Yeah, get me a bandana to blindfold the jack-ss,” the joy was apparent, “Oh, girls, if you have any thoughts of ever making me eat a sock besides my own, I’ll do worse when I inevitably get my revenge.”
Mary-Ann got herself put in the mentioned hogtie without mercy, and Kendra tied her elbows as well. Some wrappings of duct tape ended any chance of intelligible speech, and the red bandana blindfolded her. Then something adorable happened when Kendra squeezed those soft melons.
M.A. orgasmed with the cutest squeal you ever heard. Kendra posed for some closing photos by herself, taken by Marcy, while Mary-Ann suffered in the continuing film on her side of the room. Steve would be able to upload this as a multi-part epic movie featuring the four of us. Notice one difference between my demo photos and reality: my dear sweet Kendra was 8 inches shorter than Mary-Ann, not taller!
“While I have the five of you all here, listen up.”
“I’m so proud of you!” Michela grabbed me and erotically kissed me.
All five of us had appeared in both videos and photo albums that had ranked in the top 10 for February sales, with me having the top selling video and Kylie having the top selling photo album. We’d rocketed up the charts to stardom! I was now curious what would happen when Joyce and Emilia’s scenes hit the website.
“You’re all going to be keepers here,” Steve smiled.
“As if they weren’t already sources of joy to us in other ways,” Marcy said more than she should.
“Awwww,” I looked down and blushed, “We were all just desperate for work, and you were the first people kind enough to give us a chance.”
“Thank you, both of you,” Kendra smiled, “It means more than you know.”
“It’s a pleasure to work with you,” Kylie added her two cents.
“I’m just,” Michela was even more bashful, “I don’t know how to respond.”
“How about you tie up your girlfriend then?” Steve laughed and pointed at me.
“No, let’s get Kylie first!” I suggested, and that got Michela’s attention, “Come on, sweetie!”
“What about Mary-Ann?” Kendra asked, but we ignored her in our eagerness.
“Eh -e out!” Mary-Ann begged Kendra though, using the studio safeword, “Huhhinghird!”
I didn’t know that we had genuinely hurt Mary-Ann’s feelings. Well, Kylie hurt M.A.’s feelings with the word “b-stard” as it turned out; I didn’t know M.A. could be sensitive about the past. I never would have used such words around her if I’d known. It was about to be an interesting day for Kylie and me!
We paused and waited a few moments so that Kendra could get Mary-Ann most of the way out of her bonds. Michela also stayed back to help; she was staying out of everything today, or so it seemed. She was actually putting herself in the thick of things because she had seen something the rest of us had missed. Michela felt bad for her friend, and the rest of us were oblivious.
Kylie had put on that lovely red skirt and the striped sweater as she had for that one scene before this one. She’d promised a follow up scene, and this was it I guess! I rubbed my hands together in the thought that I was going to enjoy dishing out her captivity, but other plans had been made.
Lights. Camera. Action.
The film opened with me tying Kylie’s wrists while she whined about my betrayal. I admitted to her that I needed to make sure she wasn’t stealing my assignments since I was ahead of her in the class rankings. It was partially true; I did have a better class ranking in the class she and I were taking together.
“B-tch, don’t you ever question my ancestry again! Even for a video! I got called that enough in the orphanage!” Mary-Ann shrieked with tears pouring down her cheeks as she burst into the room where I was about to dominate Kylie, “I did not cheat on that assignment, and I’m gonna get all of you back for this!”
“Maddy! NO!” I groaned while she tackled me full football player style.
“NO! NO WAY! I cannot let you two get away with this!” she was tying my wrists tightly!
“You know I’m friends with her!” Kendra took Kylie who was weaker despite her size, “I can’t stay mad at her forever! And you used me as bait! To make it worse, you hurt her feelings!”
“We didn’t mean it!” Kylie insisted when her wrists were bound.
“Too late! Eat! Our! HOSE!
They were giving the orders, it seemed! With bound wrists, nothing could stop us from getting gagged by them. Mary-Ann put strips of double-sided tape over my lips before she took off my bandana and OTM gagged me with it; Kendra put strips of red duct tape over Kylie’s lips. Poor Kylie had posed so beautifully for those opening photos, too.
I never knew that Mary-Ann felt so strongly about that. I never tried to imagine being her and being unwanted by her parents. Kendra and I had been dropped like hot potatoes when we got in trouble, but Mary-Ann never knew what love was before she met us. Her parents didn’t want her and voluntarily gave her up just because they didn’t want to be responsible for her.
Kylie screwed up her face in orgasm because that’s just what Kylie does. They sat her on a chair and enjoyed the show of Kylie looking one way then the other before she leaned forward and let out a groan of despair before screwing up her face from a different sensation: eau de Kendra. I had Mary-Ann’s in my mouth, and I could only tell because I felt the run in them. Kylie sat up again and looked at the camera.
“I’m horry Haddy,” I said tearfully to Mary-Ann while we remained off camera.
“I forgive you. Please though don’t ever say anything like that to me ever again,” Mary-Ann had been really injured by that.
“Ah ihn’h hnow,” I admitted, and then I leaned my head on her shoulder.
“Look, for show, I have to still be mad at both of you, OK?” she whispered before hugging me.
“Mary-Ann, I can’t imagine what it must have been like,” Michela put a hand on her shoulder.
“Nor I can imagine your life; it was bad enough that I preferred prison. I… I’ve never hugged anyone before you girls,” Mary-Ann’s eyes grew wide, “It’s nice.”
“Then here’s another,” Michela embraced Mary-Ann.
I couldn’t imagine not knowing what it was like to get parental hugs and kisses. Kendra and I at least got that much before we were rejected. I never realized what a strong girl Mary-Ann had to be to survive juvie, her parent’s treatment of her, and genuine homelessness all before she was 20 years old.
Kylie squirmed herself off the chair. Kendra was gently taunting her while she writhed on the floor and made some angry gag talk into the gag. Just knowing both girls as well as I did, I knew I had won by getting Mary-Ann’s panties, and I had also won by getting to have this special time with my friend. A lovely upskirt view ended the scene.
“Let’s go! To the shed!” Mary-Ann spanked me with a little extra viciousness.
“MMMMMMM!” it hurt so much!
“I’m going to teach you a thing or two!” she dragged me up the stairs with ease.
Michela eagerly followed behind me and left Kendra to handle Kylie. I didn't like that I was having to hop like this on many levels. One, I didn't like hopping as a captive; two, I didn't like the clacking of my heels; three, I didn't have a headband to keep my hair back because my bandana was gagging me; four, Michela mindlessly fondled my tits since we weren't on camera.
“Sit down!” Mary-Ann sat me on a chair all by itself in the big space.
“Mmmmmm!” I looked at her and groaned.
“You will learn never to question my ancestry again,” I could still hear pain.
“You're really rude!” my girlfriend added to this, “Accusing this dear of cheating.”
“Mmmmm!”
“Mmm mmm mmm! She doesn't say anything worth hearing!” M.A. taunted me.
Lights. Camera. Action.
“Mmmmm!” I clacked my heels on the floor with an echo following. Oh, it was such a beautiful sound. I shook my tightly bound legs and found no wiggle room at all. If Mary-Ann really was kidnapping me, this was a good start! I kicked my legs in and out to find slack in those ropes, but none existed at the moment.
I tucked my legs and leaned to one side of the chair while screaming loudly. Then I was flipped 180 degrees and screaming the same way. Then I was seated up, then to one side, then to the other side. Mary-Ann came over and grabbed me by the hair.
“Owwww!”
“Awww, are you having fun?” she squeezed my cheek.
“Noo!” I stomped my feet.
“Don't lie, little girl; you are loving every minute of this,” she kissed me on the cheek.
“Nooo! -eh -e ho!” I wailed while she turned the chair and pushed me against it.
“Look here, sweetie. If you suffer here long enough, your little sh-tfhead insults will be allllll forgotten,” she played the role to perfection.
I took a deep breath and tried to recall Mr. Reardon. Much of what he did was a total blur to me, now, but I remembered the feelings too well. I never saw myself as being a victim, but then again I was repeatedly assaulted by him, his cronies, and Greg. If I could channel that despondency…
I looked at the camera as if someone were there, but then I focused on Michela. She was so beautiful. I felt a desperation growing inside me, and I started to struggle with a different energy. I slid off the chair and started trying to untie the knots of the ropes that bound me. I leaned on the chair and almost started crying before I tipped the seat and jerked myself back to reality. I was roped and not cuffed now. Pantyhose, double sided tape, and my own bandana gagged me, not his hand.
I just kept wailing and struggling for the camera; escape wasn't essential now. I could not take it anymore, though; that journey in my mind had been too much. Poor M.A. I couldn't imagine her suffering at those monster’s hands like I had. M.A. motioned for the scene to end and walked over to me.
“You OK?” she looked into my eyes in a way I still remember.
“Nooo! Huhhinghird!” I pleaded for her to free me.
“OK, honey, just a second,” she unknotted the bandana and unpeeled the tape.
“Blegh!” I spat out the hose and smiled, “Thank you!”
“What was wrong?” she sat with me and massaged my arms.
“I was trying to make it realistic by recalling Mr. Reardon.”
“I’ll untie you; smile for the camera. We’ll talk before Michela’s scene.”
“No, Mr. Reardon never took my virginity even though he tried. He threatened to get me sent to I or MV or even to Shakopee, but I was too strong willed and told him I wasn't scared of him or the Shak and that if he did it I would enjoy it,” Mary-Ann explained.
“I guess he wasn't fond of brunettes,” I looked at my hottie girlfriend.
“Hannah, I want to help you in any way I can. Kendra and I care too much.”
“You can't wipe memories,” Michela said, “Memories live as long as the mind wants.”
“Of course, and we can also choose not to dwell in the past,” she said.
“Love, you girls have suffered,” Kendra took my hand, “We’re here for you. I can’t believe you thought I was thinking about him though.”
“Well, I sure was; he was a creep!” Mary-Ann admitted, “I just have to remember his face!”
I knew that Kendra had to be telling the truth. I had never seen her manifest her love in such a way before now. Kendra would smile more around people she cared about or encourage them, but to do this was unprecedented. I started crying, and the simple holding of my hand turned into the best hug I’d ever received.
We stood there in a tight embrace without a thought about those around us. I had crossed the line from a friend to a best friend, someone about whom Kendra regularly thought and was willing to take the time to listen and to care in whatever way that person needed. As much as she denied it, she was, deep down inside, every bit as lovable and adorable as her cousin Jenny; she manifested it differently.
“All right, enough of the lesbianism,” Kendra let go of me, “We’ve got to tie up Michela.”
“How about I just take off my shirt and bra?” Michela asked.
“That’d be… what’s the word you used… klinky?” Mary-Ann asked us.
“It’s kinky,” Michela grinned, and then she looked at me and Kylie, “It’d be very kinky.”
“Kinky, sexy, whatever. Get on it,” Kendra encouraged her, “I’ve got just the thing for you!”
“All right,” Michela’s eyes filled with a strange happiness.
Michela took off the see-through shirt that was over the white long-sleeve t-shirt, then the t-shirt, and then the white sports bra that was underneath that. She then put the see-through blue shirt back on, and it was accompanied by a dark blue denim miniskirt, a navy kerchief bandana, plain pantyhose, and black heels. It was all from her own wardrobe of sexiness.
“Bring it on,” Michela winked at us to give us permission to tie her up.
“Mmmm,” Michela winked at us to give us permission to photograph and film her
It was a typical bondage of Tied After Class scenes. Ropes were binding Michela’s knees, ankles, thighs, wrists, and either side of her tits. It wasn’t strange to see her gagged with Kylie’s hose, double-sided tape, and her own bandana, which was of a different pattern from the standard paisley, but it was different to see her so obviously aroused.
Mary-Ann was almost as interesting. She was sitting off camera with a bag of chips that Marcy had offered her and slowly enjoying them at a distance where no one could hear her eating them. It was odd to see Mary-Ann in her comfort zone as though she were sitting at home, studying the walls and props of the set with a childish wonder in her eyes.
Michela was grunting a lot and gag talking phrases like “Let me go!” and “Help me!” and “Untie me!” while Kendra simply screwed up her face and shook her head in a devilish manner. I didn’t know what Kendra was thinking, but I could tell she was proud of herself. Kendra might not like bondage like the rest of us did, but she still took proud in a job well done. This was an example.
Well, Michela knew where to lay the blame since she sent her heels flying right to Kendra, and I saw Kendra dodge them with ease and a cackle. The arousal gave way to a fearful expression I felt was more appropriate for the scene. The arousal probably arose from Kylie’s panties being in her mouth, and she merely needed to suppress those thoughts.
Then I saw a barefoot Mary-Ann walking over to me with a strange smile on her face.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Why is Mary-Ann smiling?
(A) She’s planning to visit a friend who is still in juvie.
(B) She’s making plans for her next bondage party.
(C) She’s thinking about reasons why she loves her friends.
The first vote was for B, and the only other vote was for D. In this story, we'll visit B, and in the next we'll visit D!
Story Correction
I realized that I have made some inconsistencies in the story of the character of Ashley Calland.
In Story 2, in January 2013, she appears as the victim Hannah defends Ashley from the bully Clarissa Sanchez.
In Story 4, in November 2012, she appears saying that she’s sad because her parents cannot visit her, that she fell for a theft scam, that she’s in the 11th month of her second imprisonment, and that she’s up for 18 months total.
In Story 6, she appears with the explanation that she, like Michela, used self-defense against her abuser and has no memories from ages 9 to 12.
In Story 7, she appears with the explanation that she is 14 years old and is the first arrest of 2014 and up for 3 years.
As a result, I have decided to be consistent with things and have gone back to modify the errors in Stories 2, 4, 6, and 7 and make the timeline tidier. The goal of these changes is twofold: (1) because Hannah goes to visit Ashley in juvie in Story 8, and (2) to lessen the age gap between her and Hannah. The goal is to make it so that Hannah is a college sophomore when Ashley is a freshman. There are similarities to multiple girl’s stories, and that’s intentional as well.
Ashley will be up for 3 years still with release scheduled for June 2015. She will turn 18 shortly after this. I am going to stick with the narrative of Story 6 because I have said she returns later in Hannah’s life and becomes a model as well, and the narrative in Story 4 would likely see her go home and never be seen or heard of again.
Story 8 Chapter 2: Friendship
The thought of tiny Kendra getting hurt by Mr. Reardon hurt me. When Michela explained how Kendra and Mary-Ann escaped his attention by pretending to like it and even flirting with him, I wasn’t too shocked that either would have such a quick wit and use it to turn a pervert to disgust in a way. Bullies and creeps only feed off fear and other such negative emotions. Michela didn’t have to do anything to escape him: he wasn’t interested in her. I understood Kylie better, too. It seemed he had a thing for blondes in particular.
The two damsels squirmed on the floor and squealed in their own ways. Kendra got up on her knees in an effort to try untying Mary-Ann’s wrists, but Kylie stopped that with a shove. Instead, she made the two sit together again. Kendra was so cute with her head on Mary-Ann’s shoulder; I saw M.A. looking out of the corner of her eyes to see if the coast was clear before turning back to her friend to squirm some more.
With a shriek of sorts, Kendra pulled her arms out of the ropes and unknotted the handkerchief; she spat out the sock and worked on untying herself. A mischievous smile was on Kendra’s face, and I wondered what she was going to say. I saw a bright sparkle in her eyes, though; friendship was about to do something naughty with Kendra playing with a run in Mary-Ann’s hose.
“Hel- -e!” Mary-Ann squealed.
“Help you? No way! I kept trying to untie you, you ungrateful b-tch, and you never tried to help me!”
“Mmmmm!”
“That’s right!” Kendra sat on Mary-Ann’s arms and grabbed a rope, “Take this cheater!”
“No no NOOOO!” Mary-Ann felt the hogtie forming.
“Star, sweetheart, since we got this cheater trapped, get me some duct tape,” Kendra grinned.
“Anything I can do?” I ask while leaving Michela’s side.
“Yeah, get me a bandana to blindfold the jack-ss,” the joy was apparent, “Oh, girls, if you have any thoughts of ever making me eat a sock besides my own, I’ll do worse when I inevitably get my revenge.”
Mary-Ann got herself put in the mentioned hogtie without mercy, and Kendra tied her elbows as well. Some wrappings of duct tape ended any chance of intelligible speech, and the red bandana blindfolded her. Then something adorable happened when Kendra squeezed those soft melons.
M.A. orgasmed with the cutest squeal you ever heard. Kendra posed for some closing photos by herself, taken by Marcy, while Mary-Ann suffered in the continuing film on her side of the room. Steve would be able to upload this as a multi-part epic movie featuring the four of us. Notice one difference between my demo photos and reality: my dear sweet Kendra was 8 inches shorter than Mary-Ann, not taller!
“While I have the five of you all here, listen up.”
► Show Spoiler
All five of us had appeared in both videos and photo albums that had ranked in the top 10 for February sales, with me having the top selling video and Kylie having the top selling photo album. We’d rocketed up the charts to stardom! I was now curious what would happen when Joyce and Emilia’s scenes hit the website.
“You’re all going to be keepers here,” Steve smiled.
“As if they weren’t already sources of joy to us in other ways,” Marcy said more than she should.
“Awwww,” I looked down and blushed, “We were all just desperate for work, and you were the first people kind enough to give us a chance.”
“Thank you, both of you,” Kendra smiled, “It means more than you know.”
“It’s a pleasure to work with you,” Kylie added her two cents.
“I’m just,” Michela was even more bashful, “I don’t know how to respond.”
“How about you tie up your girlfriend then?” Steve laughed and pointed at me.
“No, let’s get Kylie first!” I suggested, and that got Michela’s attention, “Come on, sweetie!”
“What about Mary-Ann?” Kendra asked, but we ignored her in our eagerness.
“Eh -e out!” Mary-Ann begged Kendra though, using the studio safeword, “Huhhinghird!”
I didn’t know that we had genuinely hurt Mary-Ann’s feelings. Well, Kylie hurt M.A.’s feelings with the word “b-stard” as it turned out; I didn’t know M.A. could be sensitive about the past. I never would have used such words around her if I’d known. It was about to be an interesting day for Kylie and me!
We paused and waited a few moments so that Kendra could get Mary-Ann most of the way out of her bonds. Michela also stayed back to help; she was staying out of everything today, or so it seemed. She was actually putting herself in the thick of things because she had seen something the rest of us had missed. Michela felt bad for her friend, and the rest of us were oblivious.
Kylie had put on that lovely red skirt and the striped sweater as she had for that one scene before this one. She’d promised a follow up scene, and this was it I guess! I rubbed my hands together in the thought that I was going to enjoy dishing out her captivity, but other plans had been made.
► Show Spoiler
The film opened with me tying Kylie’s wrists while she whined about my betrayal. I admitted to her that I needed to make sure she wasn’t stealing my assignments since I was ahead of her in the class rankings. It was partially true; I did have a better class ranking in the class she and I were taking together.
“B-tch, don’t you ever question my ancestry again! Even for a video! I got called that enough in the orphanage!” Mary-Ann shrieked with tears pouring down her cheeks as she burst into the room where I was about to dominate Kylie, “I did not cheat on that assignment, and I’m gonna get all of you back for this!”
“Maddy! NO!” I groaned while she tackled me full football player style.
“NO! NO WAY! I cannot let you two get away with this!” she was tying my wrists tightly!
“You know I’m friends with her!” Kendra took Kylie who was weaker despite her size, “I can’t stay mad at her forever! And you used me as bait! To make it worse, you hurt her feelings!”
“We didn’t mean it!” Kylie insisted when her wrists were bound.
“Too late! Eat! Our! HOSE!
They were giving the orders, it seemed! With bound wrists, nothing could stop us from getting gagged by them. Mary-Ann put strips of double-sided tape over my lips before she took off my bandana and OTM gagged me with it; Kendra put strips of red duct tape over Kylie’s lips. Poor Kylie had posed so beautifully for those opening photos, too.
I never knew that Mary-Ann felt so strongly about that. I never tried to imagine being her and being unwanted by her parents. Kendra and I had been dropped like hot potatoes when we got in trouble, but Mary-Ann never knew what love was before she met us. Her parents didn’t want her and voluntarily gave her up just because they didn’t want to be responsible for her.
Kylie screwed up her face in orgasm because that’s just what Kylie does. They sat her on a chair and enjoyed the show of Kylie looking one way then the other before she leaned forward and let out a groan of despair before screwing up her face from a different sensation: eau de Kendra. I had Mary-Ann’s in my mouth, and I could only tell because I felt the run in them. Kylie sat up again and looked at the camera.
“I’m horry Haddy,” I said tearfully to Mary-Ann while we remained off camera.
“I forgive you. Please though don’t ever say anything like that to me ever again,” Mary-Ann had been really injured by that.
“Ah ihn’h hnow,” I admitted, and then I leaned my head on her shoulder.
“Look, for show, I have to still be mad at both of you, OK?” she whispered before hugging me.
“Mary-Ann, I can’t imagine what it must have been like,” Michela put a hand on her shoulder.
“Nor I can imagine your life; it was bad enough that I preferred prison. I… I’ve never hugged anyone before you girls,” Mary-Ann’s eyes grew wide, “It’s nice.”
“Then here’s another,” Michela embraced Mary-Ann.
I couldn’t imagine not knowing what it was like to get parental hugs and kisses. Kendra and I at least got that much before we were rejected. I never realized what a strong girl Mary-Ann had to be to survive juvie, her parent’s treatment of her, and genuine homelessness all before she was 20 years old.
Kylie squirmed herself off the chair. Kendra was gently taunting her while she writhed on the floor and made some angry gag talk into the gag. Just knowing both girls as well as I did, I knew I had won by getting Mary-Ann’s panties, and I had also won by getting to have this special time with my friend. A lovely upskirt view ended the scene.
► Show Spoiler
“MMMMMMM!” it hurt so much!
“I’m going to teach you a thing or two!” she dragged me up the stairs with ease.
Michela eagerly followed behind me and left Kendra to handle Kylie. I didn't like that I was having to hop like this on many levels. One, I didn't like hopping as a captive; two, I didn't like the clacking of my heels; three, I didn't have a headband to keep my hair back because my bandana was gagging me; four, Michela mindlessly fondled my tits since we weren't on camera.
“Sit down!” Mary-Ann sat me on a chair all by itself in the big space.
“Mmmmmm!” I looked at her and groaned.
“You will learn never to question my ancestry again,” I could still hear pain.
“You're really rude!” my girlfriend added to this, “Accusing this dear of cheating.”
“Mmmmm!”
“Mmm mmm mmm! She doesn't say anything worth hearing!” M.A. taunted me.
Lights. Camera. Action.
“Mmmmm!” I clacked my heels on the floor with an echo following. Oh, it was such a beautiful sound. I shook my tightly bound legs and found no wiggle room at all. If Mary-Ann really was kidnapping me, this was a good start! I kicked my legs in and out to find slack in those ropes, but none existed at the moment.
I tucked my legs and leaned to one side of the chair while screaming loudly. Then I was flipped 180 degrees and screaming the same way. Then I was seated up, then to one side, then to the other side. Mary-Ann came over and grabbed me by the hair.
“Owwww!”
“Awww, are you having fun?” she squeezed my cheek.
“Noo!” I stomped my feet.
“Don't lie, little girl; you are loving every minute of this,” she kissed me on the cheek.
“Nooo! -eh -e ho!” I wailed while she turned the chair and pushed me against it.
“Look here, sweetie. If you suffer here long enough, your little sh-tfhead insults will be allllll forgotten,” she played the role to perfection.
I took a deep breath and tried to recall Mr. Reardon. Much of what he did was a total blur to me, now, but I remembered the feelings too well. I never saw myself as being a victim, but then again I was repeatedly assaulted by him, his cronies, and Greg. If I could channel that despondency…
I looked at the camera as if someone were there, but then I focused on Michela. She was so beautiful. I felt a desperation growing inside me, and I started to struggle with a different energy. I slid off the chair and started trying to untie the knots of the ropes that bound me. I leaned on the chair and almost started crying before I tipped the seat and jerked myself back to reality. I was roped and not cuffed now. Pantyhose, double sided tape, and my own bandana gagged me, not his hand.
I just kept wailing and struggling for the camera; escape wasn't essential now. I could not take it anymore, though; that journey in my mind had been too much. Poor M.A. I couldn't imagine her suffering at those monster’s hands like I had. M.A. motioned for the scene to end and walked over to me.
“You OK?” she looked into my eyes in a way I still remember.
“Nooo! Huhhinghird!” I pleaded for her to free me.
“OK, honey, just a second,” she unknotted the bandana and unpeeled the tape.
“Blegh!” I spat out the hose and smiled, “Thank you!”
“What was wrong?” she sat with me and massaged my arms.
“I was trying to make it realistic by recalling Mr. Reardon.”
“I’ll untie you; smile for the camera. We’ll talk before Michela’s scene.”
► Show Spoiler
“I guess he wasn't fond of brunettes,” I looked at my hottie girlfriend.
“Hannah, I want to help you in any way I can. Kendra and I care too much.”
“You can't wipe memories,” Michela said, “Memories live as long as the mind wants.”
“Of course, and we can also choose not to dwell in the past,” she said.
“Love, you girls have suffered,” Kendra took my hand, “We’re here for you. I can’t believe you thought I was thinking about him though.”
“Well, I sure was; he was a creep!” Mary-Ann admitted, “I just have to remember his face!”
I knew that Kendra had to be telling the truth. I had never seen her manifest her love in such a way before now. Kendra would smile more around people she cared about or encourage them, but to do this was unprecedented. I started crying, and the simple holding of my hand turned into the best hug I’d ever received.
We stood there in a tight embrace without a thought about those around us. I had crossed the line from a friend to a best friend, someone about whom Kendra regularly thought and was willing to take the time to listen and to care in whatever way that person needed. As much as she denied it, she was, deep down inside, every bit as lovable and adorable as her cousin Jenny; she manifested it differently.
“All right, enough of the lesbianism,” Kendra let go of me, “We’ve got to tie up Michela.”
“How about I just take off my shirt and bra?” Michela asked.
“That’d be… what’s the word you used… klinky?” Mary-Ann asked us.
“It’s kinky,” Michela grinned, and then she looked at me and Kylie, “It’d be very kinky.”
“Kinky, sexy, whatever. Get on it,” Kendra encouraged her, “I’ve got just the thing for you!”
“All right,” Michela’s eyes filled with a strange happiness.
Michela took off the see-through shirt that was over the white long-sleeve t-shirt, then the t-shirt, and then the white sports bra that was underneath that. She then put the see-through blue shirt back on, and it was accompanied by a dark blue denim miniskirt, a navy kerchief bandana, plain pantyhose, and black heels. It was all from her own wardrobe of sexiness.
“Bring it on,” Michela winked at us to give us permission to tie her up.
► Show Spoiler
It was a typical bondage of Tied After Class scenes. Ropes were binding Michela’s knees, ankles, thighs, wrists, and either side of her tits. It wasn’t strange to see her gagged with Kylie’s hose, double-sided tape, and her own bandana, which was of a different pattern from the standard paisley, but it was different to see her so obviously aroused.
Mary-Ann was almost as interesting. She was sitting off camera with a bag of chips that Marcy had offered her and slowly enjoying them at a distance where no one could hear her eating them. It was odd to see Mary-Ann in her comfort zone as though she were sitting at home, studying the walls and props of the set with a childish wonder in her eyes.
Michela was grunting a lot and gag talking phrases like “Let me go!” and “Help me!” and “Untie me!” while Kendra simply screwed up her face and shook her head in a devilish manner. I didn’t know what Kendra was thinking, but I could tell she was proud of herself. Kendra might not like bondage like the rest of us did, but she still took proud in a job well done. This was an example.
Well, Michela knew where to lay the blame since she sent her heels flying right to Kendra, and I saw Kendra dodge them with ease and a cackle. The arousal gave way to a fearful expression I felt was more appropriate for the scene. The arousal probably arose from Kylie’s panties being in her mouth, and she merely needed to suppress those thoughts.
Then I saw a barefoot Mary-Ann walking over to me with a strange smile on her face.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Why is Mary-Ann smiling?
(A) She’s planning to visit a friend who is still in juvie.
(B) She’s making plans for her next bondage party.
(C) She’s thinking about reasons why she loves her friends.
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!
-
silvertejp590
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 100
- Joined: 3 years ago
-
harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: 6 years ago
A. For some reason an argument breaks out, whereupon Marie-Ann slaps her friend and then has to spend a night in the cell herself - in handcuffs and legcuffs, of course.
As i'm enjoying your Kinky Conference girls story, i though i'd check this one out too. Well, what can i say, i should have done so long ago.
Utterly brilliant! Thoroughly enjoyable.
Now just a word on the voting here, i'm often away on business during the working week, with no access to this truly magnificent site. So, if i appear a little 'reluctant' to vote sometimes, that'll be why.
However, i will take part in the current poll. My desired choice is here is 'A'
Utterly brilliant! Thoroughly enjoyable.
Now just a word on the voting here, i'm often away on business during the working week, with no access to this truly magnificent site. So, if i appear a little 'reluctant' to vote sometimes, that'll be why.
However, i will take part in the current poll. My desired choice is here is 'A'
@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp
'B' took a narrow 3-2 victory over 'A'
Story 8 Chapter 3: Starlets
Michela Palmeri was a hottie in distress, and her lovely, pitiful gag talk was an “instant wood” moment for me. She was moving her arms about and twisting on the chair in such an adorable manner that turned me on so much. She regularly was begging someone to help her, and I did nothing to do as much. Being on the set while a girl was being filmed and photographed brought such a strange variety of sensations like this, and seeing Michela’s breasts through the shirt did as much for Kylie as it did for me.
“How’d you like your little heels back, hmmm?” Kendra taunted Michela.
“Unhie -e! Hell -e!” Michela begged her instead.
“Shut it!” Kendra put the heels back on her feet, “Take them off, and I’ll tie one to your face!”
“Et -e ooooooo!”
“Screw you! You just stood and watched while I suffered! I’ll be back!”
“Noooo! Unhie -e!”
Kendra forced Michela to stand up and then took away the wooden chair, leaving Michela to hop in place while repeating her cries for help and release. She looked at the camera in frustration at not being granted her wishes. None of us sweat during a scene like Michela did; the beads were pouring off her body.
She crouched down and wailed loudly before pushing herself back up to standing with her super powerful leg muscles. The wailing continued with Michela twisting her arms about in an effort to discover any slack in the rope. She dropped to her knees and squeezed her own breast as if for some sort of relief from the hormones or stress.
“What's on your mind?” I asked my smiling friend Mary-Ann.
“I was thinking we should have another bondage party. Maybe a game night.”
“That's great, but where are we getting the games? Michela?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, just because we're poverts doesn't mean we can't play cards like in juvie.”
“I’m going to see Ashley after. Want to come with me?”
“Sure!” Mary-Ann’s eyes brightened then dulled, “Life was so much easier inside.”
In a way, M.A. was right. You had a routine, guaranteed meals, and no bills. It’s hard to step out of there and immediately jump from a kid to a prisoner and to an adult. It was a difficult step to take; I can't imagine M.A. sleeping in dumpsters like she did. That was her reality, though, and I knew that reality. After I was released from juvie without charges, I cleaned up the house in the manner which I described before and lived in my car for a week while slowly waiting for my cell phone bill to arrive and result in me getting disconnected. Then I moved in with Stacy for just a couple months, got a job, and struck it out on my own as you saw in the beginning of my story.
M.A. was something else. I could see her mind was racing with possibilities for the next time we were trapped in her home. She earnestly watched what was happening to Michela while she also was planning for her party. I realized this was what separated some of us from the other models and the other inmates. All of us were a bit smarter than average, but M.A. and Kylie were lost in a league of their own. It was no surprise that they needed the most happening around them to get the most out of bondage or could handle more things happening without getting overwhelmed by it. M.A. should be a college professor teaching mathematics, not a package sorter. Someday, I’d appreciate this reality instead of hating it.
Michela pushed herself back up, twisted her arms toward the camera, and let out a wail that told me she was in some sort of genuine distress. She dropped to her knees for good and let her heels come off her while twisting her arms and body. Her tits showed through the blue mesh fabric as if just to arouse Kylie and me.
“I warned you! You silly girl!” Kendra arrived with rope, “This should teach you a lesson!”
“Mmmmm! Hell -e! Humhuddy hell he!”
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Kendra pulled Michela’s hands and wrists together, “But you’ve got a lot to learn!”
“Owww!” Michela got a hard spank on each butt cheek.
“You shouldn’t have just watched while I suffered,” Kendra chided her, “Now, you suffer too.”
“Nooo! -et -e ho!”
I saw genuine fear in Michela’s eyes, and I assumed the worst. I assumed she was reliving being abused by her father in the worst way possible. I couldn’t handle that while watching Michela in the hogtie, and I moved away from the room and started to cry because I didn’t want to ruin the scene.
I couldn’t watch my girlfriend suffer like that. I just couldn’t do it. What Michela had thought about the other two’s acting had really put me into a downward spiral, and I couldn’t think about poor Michela suffering as she had. Finally, I calmed down enough to suggest they skip the shoe sniffing and just release Michela because of how much she was sweating.
It was all smiles during the post-shoot photos though; everything was all right. Where had I been wrong in my judgment?
“How’s it feel to be free?” Kendra asked Michela.
“Nice! That was fun! Maybe we should go to your place and redo it with more intensity!”
“Nah. That’s for Mary-Ann to do,” Kendra dismissed it.
“Well, have it your way, but you are fun with bondage,” Michela smiled broadly.
“Michela, I thought for sure you were sweating because you were thinking about your dad.”
“Daddy?! You kill such vicious thoughts!” Michela was disgusted, “No, I was just hamming it up for the camera and actually thinking about being tied up and tortured by M.A. or your friends from that Club.”
“Oh, what a relief!” I sighed, “Sorry I ruined your shoe sniffing.”
“It’s all right; maybe next time instead.”
“I’m here to visit Ashley Calland. My name is Hannah Larsson,” I said at the juvie center.
“License?” the clerk asked in a cordial voice.
It was a bit different here now. I still had to take off my bandana, but pulling it down to my neck was good enough. My poor friend was 17 but almost free, but I knew she was becoming a little stir crazy. All of the girls who befriended her and had protected her were gone now; she was the only girl in Pod F left from when I was there except for Janine Blackwell, whom no one liked anyway.
“Hi, Ash,” I said to the shackled girl on the other side of the glass.
“Hannah,” the girl who spoke to me wasn’t broken like I expected, “How’s it out there?”
“Well, you’ve received my letters, haven’t you?” I asked her with a smile, “They’re true.”
“Hannah, when I get out… you girls will help me, won’t you?”
“I’ve kept my other promises, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but how many promises can a person keep?” she seemed scared now.
“Ashley, I promise you will be taken care of in some way.”
Ashley had a late August birthday, so she was one of those girls who would turn 18 after starting college, if she went to college. She was on track to get out in just a few more months; I had to help her. I wanted to help her; we were her life!
“I like the pink bandana on you,” I smiled at her.
“You think I’m cute like you think Michela’s cute, don’t you?” she had a sly grin.
“I’m not a girl who keeps secrets well, am I?” I laughed at her.
“Hannah, when I get out of here, I don’t want to go to an orphanage,” she said despairingly.
“I will help you; I promise! Ash, you’re the little sister I never had, my sidekick. We’ll fight for you in any way we must. You know I care, and you know Mary-Ann cares. We all care, but you know you can count on the two of us.”
“Thank you Hannah. I know you normally don’t, but please visit sooner next time. I suspect I’ll have big news for you by then.”
I set a reminder in my phone to visit Ashley on March 19th, a week earlier than I would normally visit. That made her smile and put a twinkle in her eye. She was so lonely and empty without, and as I was walked away I saw a tear start rolling down her cheek.
“Your turn, M.A. Shine light in her life,” I said to my friend as I walked out.
“Hannah? Basement. It’s time to finish what I started,” Michela said to me that night.
“What is down there still?” I asked her in surprise.
“Not much. Just the filing cabinets and the computers. We’re taking them out,” she smiled.
“You’re smiling at the thought of going down there?” I wasn’t sure what was up with her.
“I’m smiling at the thought of removing the last vestiges of what happened to me.”
“Let’s do it,” I loyally followed my friend.
It was as simple as it sounded. We took apart the filing cabinet, the computers, and the desk. We then had fun dropping them all into the trash barrel and using mallets to smash the parts we knew would be fun to smash: monitors, disk drives, etc. All that remained was the carpet, so we took that out too! Mom Palmeri let Michela have free reign over the scene of her abuse.
“I don’t want to talk about Dad,” Michela read my thoughts, “But Nick Masterson.”
“Who’s Nick Masterson?”
“He’s the boy… He was my first love interest. One day, during our free hour at school, we hid in the locker room, and he and I decided to find out what sex was like. He boned me, and then after that I sucked him off,” Michela smiled as she reminisced.
“Mine was Kenny Pence. We did the same, but it was in the girl’s room. And we did ours in two different sessions. Quickies,” I told my story.
“Hannah…,” Michela started crying, “Why did he do it?”
“I don’t know; it doesn’t matter. Michela, it’s over; he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Hannah, I loved him. He’s my daddy! I want to know why! Why would anyone tie and screw any little girl, especially their own daughter?!”
The past tense really hit home with me. She loved him. Formerly. She used to love her father. Now, she was trying to desperately escape the past. I knew it was coming after our pillow talk this morning. I bit my lip while hugging my distraught girlfriend and awaiting the inevitable request.
“Hannah, will you tie me up?” I heard the desperation.
“Stop me at any time,” I said while fearing the possibility of doing more harm than good.
“I love you,” her grip tightened, “I hate him, Hannah. I really do. I sometimes pray he dies!”
“I feel the same way about Greg, but I deserved it for the things I did to others.”
“We didn’t! We didn’t!” she pushed off from me before her face lit up in a smile, “It will be OK, Hannah. It's over.”
“I’m craving some carpet after getting none today.”
With that note, Michela and I retired to the bedroom.
My beautiful girlfriend now wore purple and black flannel pajama pants, a black shirt with long sleeves, black socks, and, just for my crotch, a purple bandana headband. I had put on my own pajamas, but I had orange and black flannel pants with an orange long sleeve shirt and a black bandana headband to keep my hair aside. We started our session with some tears and cuddles.
When I boxtied Michela’s arms with the black rope she had unveiled on Valentine’s Day just two weeks before this, I felt that thrill enter me. When I tied tits up tightly in a harness, I reminded her that I loved her and wanted her to enjoy it more than I. We had a thing called love; my love was being tested tonight.
I roped Michela in Tied After Class style with three ropes for her legs and one for her thighs. I took my socks, the socks I had worn all day even before putting on the pajamas, and stuffed them in her mouth before tying a bright blue bandana cleave gag to hold the wad in her mouth. She groaned with pleasure at the taste of me while gazing into my eyes with mixed terror and love. The eyes grew wider when I pulled down her pants and panties to expose her.
“This carpet is mine,” I said and rubbed her with my hand, “All mine!”
“Mmmm!” she groaned a bit from the contact.
“Pardon me.”
Yummy carpet. Nothing is like using my mouth, my lips and tongue specifically, to bring Michela to a climax, and then licking it off afterwards. She groaned excitedly while I did this, but she really can't do much except enjoy the taste of my feet. I had her helplessly bound, and she knew it. Then I ground her, crotch against crotch, as best as the ropes allowed. It was all so good, but then I reached the point where I knew it was time… right after I climaxed and was all good and wet.
“Mmmmmm.”
“Michela Palmeri,” I gazed into her eyes and started crying, “I love you so much.”
“Hannah,” she whined with her own tears.
“Kendra is right. I would have eventually despaired and killed myself without you.”
“Ah -ove -ou,” she said into the gag.
“Thank you for truly caring about me.”
“Mmmph!” Michela groaned into the gag while I gently vibrated her.
“There, there, just enjoy yourself,” I said to her.
“Mmmmm,” she did just what I said and gazed lovingly into my eyes.
“The day you visited me after you got sprung was the day that I realized you genuinely loved me and that I truly loved you beyond just being prison buddies. Without you, I wouldn’t have these beautiful friendships.”
“Mmmmm,” she wasn’t too responsive thanks to the stimulant.
“I hid from Kendra and Mary-Ann and Kylie out of shame for what happened after I got out, but you forgave me for my mistakes. I’m so happy to have you.”
Something changed in me that day. I started to truly love people in an unselfish way. I was just a common bisexual girl while Michela really loved me; this was me learning how to separate all of the emotions of the different stages of love and friendship. Right now, Michela was my friend like M.A. or Kendra or Kylie, but Michela was my best friend for whom I had a genuine sexual attraction that wasn’t selfish. I was vibrating her because I wanted her to be happy.
Greg had seemingly ruined me with the repeated duct tape r-pe games; the horrors that had lain behind those games had sucked everything out of me, all that was good, bad, innocent, and evil alike. Sometimes, broken people can be fixed, and I’m still broken but better than I used to be.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Pick the next scene for our dear Hannah!
'B' took a narrow 3-2 victory over 'A'
Story 8 Chapter 3: Starlets
Michela Palmeri was a hottie in distress, and her lovely, pitiful gag talk was an “instant wood” moment for me. She was moving her arms about and twisting on the chair in such an adorable manner that turned me on so much. She regularly was begging someone to help her, and I did nothing to do as much. Being on the set while a girl was being filmed and photographed brought such a strange variety of sensations like this, and seeing Michela’s breasts through the shirt did as much for Kylie as it did for me.
“How’d you like your little heels back, hmmm?” Kendra taunted Michela.
“Unhie -e! Hell -e!” Michela begged her instead.
“Shut it!” Kendra put the heels back on her feet, “Take them off, and I’ll tie one to your face!”
“Et -e ooooooo!”
“Screw you! You just stood and watched while I suffered! I’ll be back!”
“Noooo! Unhie -e!”
Kendra forced Michela to stand up and then took away the wooden chair, leaving Michela to hop in place while repeating her cries for help and release. She looked at the camera in frustration at not being granted her wishes. None of us sweat during a scene like Michela did; the beads were pouring off her body.
She crouched down and wailed loudly before pushing herself back up to standing with her super powerful leg muscles. The wailing continued with Michela twisting her arms about in an effort to discover any slack in the rope. She dropped to her knees and squeezed her own breast as if for some sort of relief from the hormones or stress.
“What's on your mind?” I asked my smiling friend Mary-Ann.
“I was thinking we should have another bondage party. Maybe a game night.”
“That's great, but where are we getting the games? Michela?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, just because we're poverts doesn't mean we can't play cards like in juvie.”
“I’m going to see Ashley after. Want to come with me?”
“Sure!” Mary-Ann’s eyes brightened then dulled, “Life was so much easier inside.”
In a way, M.A. was right. You had a routine, guaranteed meals, and no bills. It’s hard to step out of there and immediately jump from a kid to a prisoner and to an adult. It was a difficult step to take; I can't imagine M.A. sleeping in dumpsters like she did. That was her reality, though, and I knew that reality. After I was released from juvie without charges, I cleaned up the house in the manner which I described before and lived in my car for a week while slowly waiting for my cell phone bill to arrive and result in me getting disconnected. Then I moved in with Stacy for just a couple months, got a job, and struck it out on my own as you saw in the beginning of my story.
M.A. was something else. I could see her mind was racing with possibilities for the next time we were trapped in her home. She earnestly watched what was happening to Michela while she also was planning for her party. I realized this was what separated some of us from the other models and the other inmates. All of us were a bit smarter than average, but M.A. and Kylie were lost in a league of their own. It was no surprise that they needed the most happening around them to get the most out of bondage or could handle more things happening without getting overwhelmed by it. M.A. should be a college professor teaching mathematics, not a package sorter. Someday, I’d appreciate this reality instead of hating it.
► Show Spoiler
“I warned you! You silly girl!” Kendra arrived with rope, “This should teach you a lesson!”
“Mmmmm! Hell -e! Humhuddy hell he!”
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Kendra pulled Michela’s hands and wrists together, “But you’ve got a lot to learn!”
“Owww!” Michela got a hard spank on each butt cheek.
“You shouldn’t have just watched while I suffered,” Kendra chided her, “Now, you suffer too.”
“Nooo! -et -e ho!”
I saw genuine fear in Michela’s eyes, and I assumed the worst. I assumed she was reliving being abused by her father in the worst way possible. I couldn’t handle that while watching Michela in the hogtie, and I moved away from the room and started to cry because I didn’t want to ruin the scene.
I couldn’t watch my girlfriend suffer like that. I just couldn’t do it. What Michela had thought about the other two’s acting had really put me into a downward spiral, and I couldn’t think about poor Michela suffering as she had. Finally, I calmed down enough to suggest they skip the shoe sniffing and just release Michela because of how much she was sweating.
It was all smiles during the post-shoot photos though; everything was all right. Where had I been wrong in my judgment?
“How’s it feel to be free?” Kendra asked Michela.
“Nice! That was fun! Maybe we should go to your place and redo it with more intensity!”
“Nah. That’s for Mary-Ann to do,” Kendra dismissed it.
“Well, have it your way, but you are fun with bondage,” Michela smiled broadly.
“Michela, I thought for sure you were sweating because you were thinking about your dad.”
“Daddy?! You kill such vicious thoughts!” Michela was disgusted, “No, I was just hamming it up for the camera and actually thinking about being tied up and tortured by M.A. or your friends from that Club.”
“Oh, what a relief!” I sighed, “Sorry I ruined your shoe sniffing.”
“It’s all right; maybe next time instead.”
► Show Spoiler
“License?” the clerk asked in a cordial voice.
It was a bit different here now. I still had to take off my bandana, but pulling it down to my neck was good enough. My poor friend was 17 but almost free, but I knew she was becoming a little stir crazy. All of the girls who befriended her and had protected her were gone now; she was the only girl in Pod F left from when I was there except for Janine Blackwell, whom no one liked anyway.
“Hi, Ash,” I said to the shackled girl on the other side of the glass.
“Hannah,” the girl who spoke to me wasn’t broken like I expected, “How’s it out there?”
“Well, you’ve received my letters, haven’t you?” I asked her with a smile, “They’re true.”
“Hannah, when I get out… you girls will help me, won’t you?”
“I’ve kept my other promises, haven’t I?”
“Yes, but how many promises can a person keep?” she seemed scared now.
“Ashley, I promise you will be taken care of in some way.”
Ashley had a late August birthday, so she was one of those girls who would turn 18 after starting college, if she went to college. She was on track to get out in just a few more months; I had to help her. I wanted to help her; we were her life!
“I like the pink bandana on you,” I smiled at her.
“You think I’m cute like you think Michela’s cute, don’t you?” she had a sly grin.
“I’m not a girl who keeps secrets well, am I?” I laughed at her.
“Hannah, when I get out of here, I don’t want to go to an orphanage,” she said despairingly.
“I will help you; I promise! Ash, you’re the little sister I never had, my sidekick. We’ll fight for you in any way we must. You know I care, and you know Mary-Ann cares. We all care, but you know you can count on the two of us.”
“Thank you Hannah. I know you normally don’t, but please visit sooner next time. I suspect I’ll have big news for you by then.”
I set a reminder in my phone to visit Ashley on March 19th, a week earlier than I would normally visit. That made her smile and put a twinkle in her eye. She was so lonely and empty without, and as I was walked away I saw a tear start rolling down her cheek.
“Your turn, M.A. Shine light in her life,” I said to my friend as I walked out.
► Show Spoiler
“What is down there still?” I asked her in surprise.
“Not much. Just the filing cabinets and the computers. We’re taking them out,” she smiled.
“You’re smiling at the thought of going down there?” I wasn’t sure what was up with her.
“I’m smiling at the thought of removing the last vestiges of what happened to me.”
“Let’s do it,” I loyally followed my friend.
It was as simple as it sounded. We took apart the filing cabinet, the computers, and the desk. We then had fun dropping them all into the trash barrel and using mallets to smash the parts we knew would be fun to smash: monitors, disk drives, etc. All that remained was the carpet, so we took that out too! Mom Palmeri let Michela have free reign over the scene of her abuse.
“I don’t want to talk about Dad,” Michela read my thoughts, “But Nick Masterson.”
“Who’s Nick Masterson?”
“He’s the boy… He was my first love interest. One day, during our free hour at school, we hid in the locker room, and he and I decided to find out what sex was like. He boned me, and then after that I sucked him off,” Michela smiled as she reminisced.
“Mine was Kenny Pence. We did the same, but it was in the girl’s room. And we did ours in two different sessions. Quickies,” I told my story.
“Hannah…,” Michela started crying, “Why did he do it?”
“I don’t know; it doesn’t matter. Michela, it’s over; he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Hannah, I loved him. He’s my daddy! I want to know why! Why would anyone tie and screw any little girl, especially their own daughter?!”
The past tense really hit home with me. She loved him. Formerly. She used to love her father. Now, she was trying to desperately escape the past. I knew it was coming after our pillow talk this morning. I bit my lip while hugging my distraught girlfriend and awaiting the inevitable request.
“Hannah, will you tie me up?” I heard the desperation.
“Stop me at any time,” I said while fearing the possibility of doing more harm than good.
“I love you,” her grip tightened, “I hate him, Hannah. I really do. I sometimes pray he dies!”
“I feel the same way about Greg, but I deserved it for the things I did to others.”
“We didn’t! We didn’t!” she pushed off from me before her face lit up in a smile, “It will be OK, Hannah. It's over.”
“I’m craving some carpet after getting none today.”
With that note, Michela and I retired to the bedroom.
► Show Spoiler
When I boxtied Michela’s arms with the black rope she had unveiled on Valentine’s Day just two weeks before this, I felt that thrill enter me. When I tied tits up tightly in a harness, I reminded her that I loved her and wanted her to enjoy it more than I. We had a thing called love; my love was being tested tonight.
I roped Michela in Tied After Class style with three ropes for her legs and one for her thighs. I took my socks, the socks I had worn all day even before putting on the pajamas, and stuffed them in her mouth before tying a bright blue bandana cleave gag to hold the wad in her mouth. She groaned with pleasure at the taste of me while gazing into my eyes with mixed terror and love. The eyes grew wider when I pulled down her pants and panties to expose her.
“This carpet is mine,” I said and rubbed her with my hand, “All mine!”
“Mmmm!” she groaned a bit from the contact.
“Pardon me.”
Yummy carpet. Nothing is like using my mouth, my lips and tongue specifically, to bring Michela to a climax, and then licking it off afterwards. She groaned excitedly while I did this, but she really can't do much except enjoy the taste of my feet. I had her helplessly bound, and she knew it. Then I ground her, crotch against crotch, as best as the ropes allowed. It was all so good, but then I reached the point where I knew it was time… right after I climaxed and was all good and wet.
“Mmmmmm.”
“Michela Palmeri,” I gazed into her eyes and started crying, “I love you so much.”
“Hannah,” she whined with her own tears.
“Kendra is right. I would have eventually despaired and killed myself without you.”
“Ah -ove -ou,” she said into the gag.
“Thank you for truly caring about me.”
► Show Spoiler
“There, there, just enjoy yourself,” I said to her.
“Mmmmm,” she did just what I said and gazed lovingly into my eyes.
“The day you visited me after you got sprung was the day that I realized you genuinely loved me and that I truly loved you beyond just being prison buddies. Without you, I wouldn’t have these beautiful friendships.”
“Mmmmm,” she wasn’t too responsive thanks to the stimulant.
“I hid from Kendra and Mary-Ann and Kylie out of shame for what happened after I got out, but you forgave me for my mistakes. I’m so happy to have you.”
Something changed in me that day. I started to truly love people in an unselfish way. I was just a common bisexual girl while Michela really loved me; this was me learning how to separate all of the emotions of the different stages of love and friendship. Right now, Michela was my friend like M.A. or Kendra or Kylie, but Michela was my best friend for whom I had a genuine sexual attraction that wasn’t selfish. I was vibrating her because I wanted her to be happy.
Greg had seemingly ruined me with the repeated duct tape r-pe games; the horrors that had lain behind those games had sucked everything out of me, all that was good, bad, innocent, and evil alike. Sometimes, broken people can be fixed, and I’m still broken but better than I used to be.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Pick the next scene for our dear Hannah!
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!
-
harveygasson
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1371
- Joined: 6 years ago
Great work as ever! B for me