The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 10 Chapter 1 (Apr. 25, 2024)

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

"A" won without any real competition

Story 5 Chapter 2: Brianna and Michela

Michela grabbed the first gag she saw, a blue ball gag, and jammed it into Brianna’s mouth and then secured the straps. She grabbed a rope from Marcy and Steve’s bag and torqued Brianna’s arms with an elbow bond and then followed it with a wrist bond. A well cinched rope connected the harness and elbow bond. Whether we liked it or not, “Girls Gone Wild” was underway!

Brianna doesn't know whether to be terrified, angered, or amused. Every emotion was open to interpretation depending on which snapshot you saw of her struggle. Brianna moved her arms about hoping to loosen the ropes, but ropes tied by Michela carry the risk of circulation loss and nerve damage. OK, that part was true then.

Brianna glared at Michela before turning to us. The first signs of drool formed on the ball gag, and the glistening in the light was perfect. She whined and twisted 180 on the wooden chair. She begged and pleaded for mercy. After a few minutes of trying to pitifully wail and squirm pathetically (as in the true meaning, pathétique), Brianna turned to us three and began uttering angry profanity into the gag.



Michela pulled up Brianna’s shirt and evoked a series of angry swears and thrashes. A glance to us, rather a glare, expressed her displeasure with our lack of a response. An olive branch of friendship with an initial smile had gone to hell in a handbasket. Fear was apparent in her eyes when she looked at Michela, and the big strong girl then took what she wanted.

“Tits out,” I said with a laugh to Kristine.
“I have a ‘no tits’ and ‘no heels’ polic, too,” she said to me and Kendra.
“Good to know I’m not alone.”
“Oh, no. Plenty of girls feel that way.”
“Good to know,” Kendra's confidence seemed to grow.
“You got this, girl,” I encouraged her.

Not only is it tits out, my friends, but Michela even took her heels off along the way. I had never seen Michela so focused, and I felt genuine hatred come from her towards a person who was genuinely remorseful for her earlier maltreatment of us. Brianna was showing off her titties as she sat and continued the same thrashing patterns on the hard wooden chair. She liked threatening to strangle people with her hands though.

“B-tch!” Michela threw the girl over her knee and took the chair, “I f-cking hate you!”
“All right, girls, time to move in. Steve, cut!” Kristine took command of things.
“Michela!” I used her real name since we were off camera, “I’m ashamed of you right now!”
“Why'd you make me appear with this girl?”
“Because she f-cking forgave and forgot for our part and was trying to lay the ground work for an apology!” I grew angry now, “Take her next door and tie her up!”
“F-ck me!” Michela stood up.

Michela was shaking with clenched fists and seemed to be fighting some personal and invasive demon. The girl I loved was fading away, and the girl from juvie returned in a disturbing way. I walked over to Brianna and put her heels back on her feet. A few more shots followed of her standing and squatting in her bondage. Soon, however, the heels were off again, and despite some great shots of her bound arms the same cry to be untied continued. Brianna even tried rolling on the floor, but no mercy came. The ball gag came out only after she gave the signal, and she smiled again now that it was just us and Steve.



“I’m sorry, Brianna. I thought today was the day we’d iron out our differences.”
“Your friend is trying to be horrible. Why’d Kristine stop her?”
“I don't know. She's never acted like this before. May I borrow this,” I pulled on one of her socks.
“Sure. Stuff her mouth well.”
“I have to gag you again though for this to work,” I pushed the ball into her mouth again.
“Got a plan, Hannah?” Steve asked me with a raised eyebrow.
“To force Michela to see that Brianna is truly a nice girl who just is bit rough around the edges.”

Now Brianna raised her eyebrows.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 34: Juvie Reforms[ /size]
February 4, 2013

“Hannah, Hannah, come here,” Mrs. Copley called me over as I marched to my cell after my laundry duty.
“Have I done something wrong?” I gulped and looked down while standing in the familiar way.
“Sweetie, no, but I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that the warden wants you to be watched more closely for the next few days, so no laundry duty, no programs, and no leaving the pod during rec time. The good news is that Mr. Reardon was terminated.”
“Oh,” I sniffed back my tears, “Thank you for letting me know.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah. If you need to talk, just tell me.”
“I’m good,” I knew she didn’t believe that, “Thanks for the offer. I’ll remember that in case.”

With that I marched up the stairs and into my cell where Michela was waiting for me. The door shut and locked behind me and would stay that way until dinner time. Michela smiled at me, and I knew we were going to celebrate in our own little way that night.

Mrs. Copley was unorthodox but good.

February 9, 2013

Attention all students: there will be a change in uniforms. The old orange uniforms will no longer be considered permitted clothing.

Black pants and a lavender purple became our new colors. For a bunch of kids who associated the color orange now as the symbol of their failures, it was like Christmas, especially for dear Mary-Ann. Kylie saw it as a sign that the end of her imprisonment was nearing.

“Hey, my choice of black doesn’t seem dumb now,” M.A. adjusted her bandana again.
“Ugh! Blue,” Michela, the only other Pod F girl at this stage permitted to wear them, “is ugly!”
“Oh, suck it!” I rolled my eyes playfully, “We at least look like teenage offenders.”
“You like shower time too much,” my lover taunted me.
“OK, yes, I’m a 16 year old delinquent with an eye for boobies.”
“Hey, I’m just glad someone stares at me,” Mary-Ann fondled herself as we walked into the stalls.

“Come on, Lucille,” Kristine started things while Marcy filmed us.
“Get off me, f-cktoy!”
“Oh, hell you say. We're gonna make you our f-cktoy!” Kendra added.
“You attacked Brianna, now we get you!”
“I!” Michela seemed to be fighting something inside herself as I tied her wrists, “No!”
“Keep holding her in place!” I remind the others.

Something had snapped in Michela, and she was now suffering internal psychological warfare, which was extremely dangerous for her mental wellbeing. I jammed the sock in her mouth to prevent her from talking further and applied double-sided tape before I OTM gagged her with her own bandana. Kendra worked on tying Michela’s legs, and Kristine was working on the harness. Ankles and either side of her knees being tied seemed sufficient for her legs, and a rope on either side of her tits was good once it was cinched through her armpits.

We stood Michela up, and she bent down enough that I couldn't resist kissing her. I don't get the expected reaction though. She just jumped up and down yelling into her gag without much attention to me. She looked around while yelling, but it was yelling without substance. The vacancy in her eyes deepended. She kept towards her right where I was, but she wasn't seeing me as me. She was in distress of some sort. She crouched down and yelled angrily into Brianna’s sock and finally sat down, affording Marcy the opportunity to photograph her bonds.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 35: My Release[ /size]
January 25, 2014
“I’m gonna miss you,” Michela kissed me at my last breakfast as a juvenile inmate.
“I’m gonna miss you, too. As soon as I turn 18, though, I am going to visit you.”
“Don’t forget about me. Please?” her voice trembled in what was the first outward display of emotion besides lust I had seen from her.
“I won’t. Michela, this seems to be the right time to say this, to give you hope.”
“What is it?” tears formed in her eyes.
“I’m in love with you.”

Just as I said that, the door opened, and my time in this cell with Michela Palmeri came to an end right at an emotional peak. With my few things, I walked out of the cell and waved behind me but did not look back. I could hear Michela crying as I left her behind. My promise was to be fulfilled though. I never failed to visit her once a week, but I held back from her the details of what was happening to me. We didn’t touch again until the events of Story 2…

I no longer fit in my civilian clothes having grown from 5’1” to my present 5’3” while inside. Grandma had to pick me up and brought new clothes with her.

An angry Michela whipped her hair back and forth while she howled into her gag. It was a cute sound she made even when upset, but what was upsetting her? She looked back and yelled at me as if she were expecting me to do something for her. I smiled at her and blew her a kiss, and suddenly the spark came back. She twisted about some more and yelled at the camera a lot.

Michela Palmeri, hottie in distress. I couldn't resist. It was time. Tits out, my friends.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 36: My Decision[ /size]
April 5, 2014

“Grandma, I can’t keep living like this. I love you more than life, but I don’t want to keep you in danger,” I said with great selfishness.
“Hannah, don’t worry about those people,” my words surely stung.
“I have to. I ruined a lot of lives before prison, and I can’t risk your safety.”
“You’re an adult, Hannah, and you always have a home here,” she didn’t flinch but was hurt.
“I know,” I put my sexual interest in Greg first, like an idiot, “Greg’s coming to get me.”
“I won’t stop you. Just don’t leave without one last special grandma-grandchild moment.”

So, together, Grandma and I talked, as we had so many times over the years, while enjoying homemade pancakes. I forced myself not to cry, but deep inside I knew even then that I was leaving so that Grandma wouldn't see when Greg inevitably hurt me. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea in what way.

“Beautiful, beautiful titties!” I said and fondled Michela.
“Nmmmm!” she groaned while I stepped back.

Michela sat with her exposed, beautiful, sexually pleasing, medium, Italian tits. How much self-control I must have had because I wanted to kiss them something fierce and did not do it. My girlfriend looked right at the camera and flung off a high heel that Marcy grabbed with ease.

“Well aren't you a b-tch!” Marcy said on video, “Kristine, put this back on her.”
“Got it,” Kristine took the high heel and put it back on Michela.
“Mmm!” Michela propped herself up on her legs and looked at me.
“Hey!” I caught the flying heel.
“Mmmm!” she kicked her legs in and out for the camera and seemed back to herself.
“What a brat!” Kendra laughed at her.

Michela lifted her legs and gave us a nice upskirt view that made Kristina and Kendra blush and made me flush. She kicked out her legs straight and kept angrily yelling; I now realized the flailing was her talking with her hands in her anger. I neglected this point about her and Mary-Ann: both talk with their hands.

With more leg action, the other heel came off her foot, but she played with it for some time and looked back and forth towards me and the camera. She proceeded to give a dissertation of some sort via gag talk while I paid more attention to her panties and a body part that was hidden by them. What a hottie she was… and still is.



“All right, girl! Punishment time!” I dragged Michela to the sofa and spanked her.
“Owww!” she yelled because it was a hard spank.
“Are you sorry for what you did to Brianna?” I spanked her again.
“OWWW! NOOO!”
“You asked for it!” I continue.
“Owwww… mmm…. mmmmmmm!” Michela was temporarily lost from that one.
“Cumsl-t,” Kristine muttered with a wry smile and watched me once again star.

I had no idea just how proud Kristine and the Moreau’s were of me and my misfits that had taken this studio by storm. They hid the demand from us because they knew we all had various fears, but we were all rising the lists as top sellers and were quickly becoming among the most requested models. It was a joy for them to watch happen because they knew just how hard our lives were.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 37: The Self-Destruction[ /size]
April 7, 2014

“What have I done?” I asked Stacy as she put out a joint.
“Made your choice. It was Grammy or Greg; you chose Greg.”
“I’m f-cking up, aren't I?”
“You're doing you, and I do and don't give a sh-t,” she was heartless then.
“Get the f-ck out of here,” I shoved her down the step, went inside, and shut the door.
“Need something?” the dreadful masculine voice asked me.
“Yeah, some c-ck in my p-ssy would calm me down.”

Had I really forsaken my friends and family for awesome c-ck? Was getting his junk up my pipe worth it? I hated so many things, but I hated myself. Inside, I seemingly wished for the worth.

That day, I began the second leg of my descent to the mess I still am today in 2024…

Spanking Michela into repeated orgasms was a joy, but I couldn't keep it up. We had a bunch more work to do. I spanked her once for each of her 18 years and then, once the cameras were off, kissed her into a fourth orgasm that seemed to exhaust her. The combination of exposed tits and spanking at my hands had been too much for her. I dragged her into the other room with Kristine’s help. If they could work together to escape this, we would let them tie us up.

Michela wasted no time at all. She wanted freedom, but her motions were weakened by the repeated orgasms. Brianna, however, wanted to let bygones be bygones and try to create at least mutual agreeability between herself and my band of misfits. I did not know someone could move their own hands so effectively while tied up, but it turned out that Brianna did crafting stuff as a hobby and thus was really deft with her hands. I expected an escape, but not under 7 minutes.

“You pushed us to succeed, and we did,” Brianna beamed with pride.
“Brianna, I’m sorry for being a d-ck,” Michela said her words with feeling.
“I was a d-ck first and am sorry for it.”
“Great. Shall we take these three down?”
“Please?”

Michela walked around me; recall my red skirt and flowery blouse. Lust was in her eyes as she studied me, but Brianna was more imaginative in her analysis of Kristine. A glance to each other was followed by a nod of agreement. Ropes began torquing mine and Kristine’s elbows behind us. Kristine got only below her elbows tied by Brianna, but I got both sides tied by Michela. Like it or not, we were now trapped.

Wrists and either side of the elbows and ankles and either side of the knees. It was tight and fantastic and didn't hurt like last time. I smiled seductively and wriggled my body in a way that made Michela instinctively grab her crotch. An all black ball gag filled my mouth.

In the other room where Michela had been tied, Kristine was on the ground with her legs crossed with mountains of rope. A rope connected her ankles and waist to make it hard to move, and a harness held her arms down. I had promised Kristine that one day I would vamp her while tied up, but today wasn't it despite me getting aroused at the sight of her with a big red ball gag in her.

Girls had gone wild.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

What awaits Kendra?

(A) An invitation to join in on the revenge spanking
(B) Getting tied up alongside the other two
(C) Being forgotten in Brianna and Michela’s revenge quest

[Caesar73]

B

[silvertejp590]

I’d go with A!

[harveygasson]

B from me

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi, @hafnermg, @johopp

Any of you care to vote on this chapter?

[johopp]

A

[hafnermg]

B

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

"B" wins this round.

This one’s the roughest for me. It’s long, and the interludes are dark. This is also a dark time for Michela, though, so I figured we would get the darkness out of the way all at once. As you will see, the interlude titles are direct.

Story 5 Chapter 3: Accepting My Condition

I sat on the coffee table and yelled into my gag and stretched out my arms. Michela was an effective dominatrix even if she was nearly a rope bunny. A loud yell into my gag only got a laugh from Steve and Kendra. I leaned back onto the table and thought about things and decided to play it angry instead of scared.

I looked at the camera and used my arms for balance while tucking my knees into my chest. It felt nice to squish my tits like that, and I wondered what a ball tie it would be like to experience a really tight ball tie. I kicked my legs out but lost my balance and rolled to the left side.

I again braced my arms, tucked my knees in, and yelled into the ball gag. Gag talk is so satisfying! While doing all this, my legs are slowly extending. I am aiming for an upskirt shot that will certainly make the viewers c-m themselves on sight. Fun fact: I now own this ball gag; why I own it will make sense much later.



I began to realize something: I had enjoyed jamming that gag back in Brianna’s mouth in a different way beyond just the usual playful satisfaction of gagging someone. Her angry reaction excited me and brought me pleasure. I enjoyed exposing Michela, and I liked the frustrated gag talk she made when I did it. The anger that came when a girl was spanked or otherwise tortured brought me a thrill, and I got a similar but different thrill when those things were done to me.

They’re going to leave me tied, go home without me, and force the Moreau’s to untie me, suddenly disrupted my peace.

In response to that, my big kick came to an end. I rapidly sat up and began yelling at a giggling Michela. My gag talk was unintentional, and staring at her made her horny as shown when she grabbed her crotch. I figured soon I would be back on the streets with her keeping a photo of me for masturbation in her life after she was done with me.

I stood up and flung my arms up and down and bent down as if in a strappado. They didn't want to be my friends anymore. I desperately and angrily cried and shimmied my arms in an effort to escape and beg them not to leave me. In my heart, I knew it was all untrue, and an internal battle began with me yelling at the camera and trying not to lose my sanity.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 37: The Self-Destruction
January 25, 2014

“Grandma, I’m too much of a heartache to everyone. Greg is coming to get me, and I’m moving in with him.”

I broke my grandmother's heart for real. She begged me not to do it, but she refused to control me despite being my legal guardian. Instead, she promised to pray for me and my safety. Away I went, to my own demise…

February 2, 2014

“F-ck this,” I put out my first post-juvie joint after one puff.
“You're really quitting?” a freshly snorted Stacy asks me.
“Yep. I'm done with drugs… I’m clean.”

I saw nothing of what happened to Kristine, but from the sound effects I suspected that Michela, Brianna, and Kendra were taking turns spanking and fondling her. It was a pleasure to hear the older girl suffering at my girlfriend's hands, and I came to terms right then; I had a debilitating mental illness that exacerbated my emotions and my fears and perhaps made me enjoy my kinky side a little bit more than was healthy for me.

How do I tell Michela? Would the Palmeri’s help me?

Steve wrapped a rope around my chest and thighs since there was absolute chaos from the other room. I got the ball tie of my heart’s desires and continued yelling into the ball gag. I twisted my arms in an effort to untie at least one rope. Alas, the knot was much too tight. I looked right at Steve and yelled at him, and I felt like he understood me in a way. No matter what fears I had, the Moreaus were the only people whom my brain was dead certain would try to alleviate them.



Then we were finished. Amidst the din of wailing and such… a photo of me sitting and smiling ended the set, and some closeups of my rope marks followed. Instead of girls going wild on me, I had been forgotten and left to a classic scene that I enjoyed a lot once my mind cleared up. I no longer heard Kendra in there…

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 38: The Abortion
May 4, 2014

“Greg, I have a surprise for you,” I say to the 27 year-old drug kingpin.
“What this time?” he is sarcastic as always, “You learned to make sugar cookies?”
“No, you sardonic f-ck. I'm pregnant!” I try to smile.
“No! I'm not having a little sh-t, especially with you!” he snarls and lunges at me.
“Greg! No!” I shriek before he beats me.

May 8, 2014

The next several days are a blur for me, and all I remember is the agonizing pain when the staff eagerly took Greg’s blood money and murdered my baby in some awful way that I won't… no I cannot… describe… my mind has blotted the memory of my tragic loss. I had already figured if he had rejected the baby that I would go back to Grandma; I knew she would welcome me home with open arms. What came after is what’s etched in my memory.

He duct taped me, as he always did when he wanted to control me. He taped me and gagged me with the socks and panties I was wearing and many layers of tape and then he f-cked my ass and punched me in the gut multiple times.

“I want to make sure that slime is dead!” he snarled before abandoning me to writhe in pain.

Why was I crying? The fear? Wanting to no longer live with him? Mourning my lost child? The pain? Two major changes happened to me that day: first, I concluded that life is precious and, second, I was determined to bring Greg down.

Kristine was such a hottie! She shared the anti-heel streak that Kendra shared, but she’d comply with Steve’s wishes upon occasion. Likewise, she wouldn't always let her tits come out to play. She was writhing around a lot for Marcy to photograph her but didn't make much noise. Honestly, she wasn't a very loud girl; she was quiet in all things, including bondage scenes.

I guess that was part of Kristine’s charm. This time, I finally noticed a wedding band on her hand, and I realized she most likely had a husband. While she was delightful, I just could tell she wasn't into girls quite like I was. If I asked to vamp her, she'd allow me to do it for a scene but not otherwise.



Then the spanking resumed anew. I do not know why, but Michela was excellent as a dominant except when torture was involved. Once it was no longer about ropes, gags, and sex, her performance was just lackluster. But, she and Brianna had put their differences aside and seemed to be enjoying the sharing of the duties.

Let me tell you about Kendra. Kendra was tied up too now. She had the usual three leg ropes, wrists tied, and a breast harness. She was squirming around on the floor, and I motioned for Steve to come over. I led her away in silence and out to another part of the studio and sat her on a wooden chair.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 39: The Execution
June 2, 2014

I was studying Greg’s every move. I knew from his words that he was now f-cking my friend Stacy, and I knew every drug stash in this place from before I went to juvie. Despite crawling back to this freak, I had smoked but two joints all these months, and I knew it unnerved him. He no longer seemed as trusting even though I continued to hand out things on his behalf, especially when I was here alone. He was still a cheat, though, and I took him on one day. If I wasn't getting c-ck from him, no one else should!

“Enjoying Stacy’s p-ssy?” I asked him coldly, “I see through you, Greg Lofton.”
“Me? You call me a cheat?” he grabbed the roll of duct tape, “You a squeal, too?”
“A squeal? No! I'm just hungry for some d-ck,” I try to manipulate him as a test.
“Hannah, you’ve pushed this too far. You know too much, and like Stacy you're gonna go running to the cops any day now!”
“Greg! No!” I yelled as he grabbed me, “I'm not a squeal!”
“See you in hell, b-tch.”

Greg again taped my socks in my mouth and wrapped my face up tightly, this time even wrapping my hair into it. Wrists, elbows, chest, waist, legs, and thighs were all tightly wrapped in it. He explained to me that this was it: I was being executed so as to ensure I didn't turn on him. Then he wrecked my p-ssy for one final time. Into the basement I went, and I was taped to the water main.

After an hour, I could see I wasn't alone in the form of a redhead. Stacy was tied to a support column, taped just like I was, and blindfolded with a black bandana. This was how it ended for us. We were going to starve or dehydrate…

June 4, 2014

It's strange how I never cried throughout this. At the time, I felt like I deserved it for my failures to society. I was hungry, thirsty, and soiled. I had been working on this escape for over 40 hours now as lunch time approached. As I squirmed on the cold concrete floor, my hands happened upon a nail that I had been unable to find before. Stacy was wailing because, unlike me, she was scared of death.

I slashed the tape on my wrists and got enough motion that I could cut myself off the water lines. Now, I could hop over to the tools and grab a knife. That made quick and easy work of the tape binding myself and Stacy. In the darkness, I spied a 2x4 board and took it. We tiptoed up the stairs and opened the door.

“Oh, so you escaped. I’m gonna have to snuff you both instead.”

I pause in thought before using my little remaining energy to nutshot him with the wooden board and then slam him on the head. He is knocked out from that. Turning to Stacy, we see terror in each other's eyes.

“Run!” I said.

Together, we went to the house of a friendly elderly couple nearby. They let us in, and soon the police were on their way.

I dropped a pair of pink heels, detestable things to Kendra, near her feet. Growling was a perfect response, and the heels were even in Kendra’s least favorite color. None of us had gams like hers; she was just perfect in pantyhose. Just talking about her will bring tears to my eyes. Kendra, we love you.

How cute she was squirming on the chair! How adorable were her squeaks when I forced her to sniff the heels. I put the pink heels on her feet, and she let out a string of quite intelligible profanity into the green tape gag and flung them off right towards me while Steve filmed us giggling. The captive hottie in distress in the green skirt got on the floor with her chest on the chair. She briefly scowled at the heels and begged for mercy. I responded with some harsh swats on her vulnerable butt.



“All right. That's a wrap,” Steve interrupts me then shouts, “Get them untied!”
“Timed out?” I asked and immediately worked on getting Kendra out.
“Yeah, not only that, but it's getting late for dinner.”

We walked out of the Moreau’s home a little richer. Since starvation was no longer on the horizon, we celebrated with me getting each of us a Big Mac, fries, and a soda. It felt strange to have honest money and to be able to spend a little of it on myself. In my girlfriend's eyes, I saw new emotions that told me something was eating at her; in my friend’s eyes I saw increasing confidence, a strengthening belief that she was now in control of her destiny.

“Kendra, come to my house first. Please?” Michela broke the ice on her struggles.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 40: The Abomination
June 8, 2014

The hospital was charitable since we had no way to pay, and Stacy and I are survivors again. But, it's a bit different for me. As the resident who shared a bed with Greg, I found myself not only arrested again, but I was sent back to juvie as an 18 year old who was recently sprung. Back went a badge, now emblazoned with H15 instead of F09. For the first three days, I was put on suicide watch and kept more-or-less in solitary except for Level I rec hours in the morning and afternoon. My meals were brought to me, and I felt loneliness like never before. But, then came day four…

June 11, 2014

“Hannah, what the hell?!” Kylie exclaimed when she saw me at lunch.
“Hell, yeah,” was all I said.
“Are you OK?”
“Eventually,” I grumbled, “I don't want to talk.”
“I still care about you,” she said with a bit of pain in her voice.
“I care about you, too.”

A guard then whisked me away because of police questioning, and I merely burst into tears and was put back into suicide watch until my release. I had no desire to die, but they weren't risking anything with a prize like me. How I regretted wasting my precious few moments with a friend. I didn’t even get to see Michela during my short time there because she had broken her foot in a gym accident while playing basketball that morning and was at the hospital.

June 12, 2014

It didn't matter since the next day I was cleared of any potential charges and released again. They had a multitude of crimes against Greg; that was when the true horror began. As soon as I got back to the place, I packed my car with anything that I knew was mine. They were watching me.

Sure enough, cops soon swarmed the place because they wanted the info I had and Greg wouldn't give. They wanted to know where to find drugs; I’d been followed here; my release had been a trap. In exchange for my cooperation and no charges against me, I told them all that they wanted about the drug stores and such. But the worst was still to come.

June 14, 2014

Depositions and attorneys. I had to tell my story repeatedly. Six times I had to tell how Greg attacked me, r-ped me, and left me to die. Stacy too. We had to recall so much; Stacy, too, had been on suicide watch, although unlike me she had tried. She was so broken by it all, and I felt the spirit leave my eyes by the end of the morning in the knowledge that I had to face psychiatric evaluations and so much more before a trial by jury could proceed.

Today was when I learned it all. From the day I entered the house upon release, Greg had filmed each and every time Stacy or I had been f-cked by him. Whether tied or not, he filmed it, and he had filmed our execution as well. Worse, he had sold them or outright posted them on sites like P-rnH-b. To this day, I can find those videos and see myself getting r-ped and murdered. Yes, it triggers me; even the thought will still send me into hysteria. I had to watch these and confirm they were me, and Stacy had to do the same with herself. Once in a while, I torture myself by looking for them and finding them somewhere on some site.

I wasn't 18 yet! How did I fall for this monster and abomination?!

September 20, 2014

“Mr. Lofton, given the seriousness of your crimes and the unanimous verdict, I sentence you to life in prison without possibility of parole.”

The nightmare was over… right?

For Michela alone to remove said the sign on the door.

The sign was dated over 3 years ago, and I wondered what it was. Kendra noticed it too, but we kept our silence. We sat in the attic, all on the futon across from the bed, in total silence. I was on one side of Michela, and Kendra was on the other. Never had Michela been so silent, and we remained in this way for 30 minutes. Without a word, Michela gently and fearfully wrapped her hands around ours and led us down to that door that we now noticed had a special deadbolt.

“After the police had finished in here,” she spoke, “I asked Mom to do this. This was the only key, and she put it in my bag that stayed in the prison locker.”
“What is this?” Kendra asked as Michela pulled the key out of her pocket and opened the door.
“The basement. Come on,” Michela flicked on the light and led us down, “I miss hockey.”
“We're with you. Maybe you can take up club hockey when you get to college.”
“Don't be afraid,” I tried to comfort her.
“Fear is the only emotion I understand right now.”

Against the one wall of the completely finished basement were two computer stations, of which one was complete; the other had a dismantled computer. There were filing cabinets, a wooden chair, and on the floor was a bag in which were various bondage toys such as a vibrator, ropes, and gags. There was a big red stain on the carpet, in the corner, and a few skimpy outfits, all bikinis or shorts, were found in an open filing cabinet drawer. A couple of pieces of rope were still on the floor.

For a half hour, we sat there in silence while Michela stared at the ropes, fingered the various gags, held the clothes up against her own body, and occasionally sat on the wooden chair. What was she thinking and feeling? Was it a recollection? Or was it blotted from her memory? I was uncertain how to help until she finally spoke.

“I waited until a night where he vaginally assaulted me, and then I shot him. He never expected me to take his own gun and use it on him or to pull it out of the drawer. That night, at 9:37PM, he went down; at 9:51PM, I was taken out in handcuffs; at 10:09PM the proof that my daddy was doing it to me was in their hands. Every day, when I was done with my homework, we’d come down here to work, but about once a week we… he’d tie me, gag me and… Kendra, take the bag… ”
“Wow! Mary-Ann would…,” Kendra started thinking it was a gift.
“We're gonna burn it. Hannah, get the clothes.”
“But we could…”
“We're gonna burn it all,” Michela insisted in a ruthless manner.
“Are you sure you…”
“F-CK YOU! F-CK YOU!” Michela pointed her middle finger at Kendra, “Kendra… why’d he do it to me?”
“I can’t answer that,” Kendra said with deepest regret and started crying, “I’m sorry.”
“I was such a star on the hockey team too.”

Michela had opened the most vulnerable side of herself to us in a way that no one else had ever seen. I tried not to imagine the 13 or 14 year old Michela bound and gagged and being terrified for her life, and more than that she was trying not to remember any of it. The scene made sense now as she took a box cutter and chopped out the bloody trail of carpet, from where her father fell to where he dragged himself. The carpet and the other items made a nice flame once doused in gasoline. The ring gag, no surprise, was the one “toy” that she personally held back to toss into the flame after it had been lit. We even burned all the clothes that no longer fit her but had been hers in that period of life. The chair got a special treatment of being sawed up before it was turned into firewood. The torture ended on Michela’s terms, and those symbols ended on her terms too. Kendra was picked up by Mary-Ann, which left us alone with the mother and sisters who cheered us on and praised Michela for her strength.

Imagine those beautiful years… I have seen many photos of Michela… 10, 11, 12, 13… many of them see her in her hockey gear whether a candid photo or a staged one. Then, at 14, the number of photos trails… and it skips to 18. There is no 15, 16, or 17 for her; those are in prison. Justice had not been served by any means. Even 18 was lost… it all timed out that Michela lost four of her birthdays, including two of the most precious ones to a girl. No “Sweet 16” or “Graduation party” or “welcome to adulthood” happened for her. I got both of those, and I wasted my 18th with a psychopath instead of in my grandmother’s home when, in reality, she was the only one on my side at the time. Michela… I’m sorry. I needed help, too, but I didn’t know how to tell you what was wrong or what had happened to me.

Afterwards, Michela sat on the futon in silence. I had a phone call to make to fulfill a promise. So much about my girlfriend now made sense…

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Which new bondage position is Hannah going to introduce to Michela in the fourth and final chapter of Story 5?

(A) Boxtie with frogtie
(B) Reverse prayer hogtie
(C) Boxtie with crossed legs
(D) Overhead frogtie

[Caesar73]

B it is!

I understand that writing the passages of thy physical and psychological abuse must have been difficult to write - but you did really well @AlexUSA3

[AlexUSA3]

B it is!

I understand that writing the passages of the physical and psychological abuse must have been difficult to write - but you did really well @AlexUSA3

You are correct, and thanks for the compliment. They were hard to write and were bondage of another kind. Now we know Hannah's own story and why she is the way she is. Both Michela and Hannah have been face-to-face with hell, but only Michela has opened up and told even a little bit of the truth while Hannah is still trying to make the past disappear by pretending it isn't there.

[Caesar73]

You are correct, and thanks for the compliment. They were hard to write and were bondage of another kind. Now we know Hannah's own story and why she is the way she is. Both Michela and Hannah have been face-to-face with hell, but only Michela has opened up and told even a little bit of the truth while Hannah is still trying to make the past disappear by pretending it isn't there.

What I like about this tale - besides the ropes - it´s psychological depth.

[AlexUSA3]

You are correct, and thanks for the compliment. They were hard to write and were bondage of another kind. Now we know Hannah's own story and why she is the way she is. Both Michela and Hannah have been face-to-face with hell, but only Michela has opened up and told even a little bit of the truth while Hannah is still trying to make the past disappear by pretending it isn't there.

What I like about this tale - besides the ropes - it´s psychological depth.

There is plenty of that. I am exploring the depths of the human mind like never before, even having to do some research to get all these details especially concerning prison life, the bondage industry, and human psychology to be as accurate as possible even if it's a fictional prison and fictional characters.

[Lucky Lottie]

A very tough read, but definitely hit me where it hurts. Good job. I vote B too.

[johopp]

E - Reverse prayer (hands) with frogtie (feet)

or better: feet frogtie (knees and toes on the ground)
hands tied together in front, then pulled over her head in her neck. Other End of the rope wrapped once around her waist, then
pulled between her legs to the front of her body and there tied to the rope around her waist.

That way, her hands are fixed at neck level, while her upper arms are over (or behind) her ears and her elbows are left and right over
her head.

[AlexUSA3]

E - Reverse prayer (hands) with frogtie (feet)

or better: feet frogtie (knees and toes on the ground) hands tied together in front, then pulled over her head in her neck. Other End of the rope wrapped once around her waist, then pulled between her legs to the front of her body and there tied to the rope around her waist. That way, her hands are fixed at neck level, while her upper arms are over (or behind) her ears and her elbows are left and right over her head.

I'm gonna count this as another "B" and give you points for creativity. Perhaps I can fit your suggestions into Story 6's adventure though!

[hafnermg]

B. And thank you for your efforts on the psychological I know it's hard but you did well and really adds depth. I appreciate it.

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

"B" easily won. A reverse prayer hogtie is Michela's new position. Let's go off into the weekend with a little pleasure reading for all of you. Is Hannah maybe starting to finally understand the role she plays in Michela's life?

Story 5 Chapter 4: Our Bedroom

“Michela, don't undress yet,” I said to my tall lover after I shut the door.
“You want something?” she asks me with tears in her eyes.
“Come on down, baby. I know this evening was hard for you.”
“You don't know it,” she said, “I don't think about it. It's a blur.”
“You don't have to talk about it,” I ran my fingers through her hair.
“I was a star hockey player. I averaged over a goal per game my last year. We won the title in a total rout 12-2.”

Hockey was the only thing Michela would talk about when that topic arose. Tonight, with Kendra and I by her side, was the first time she had ever said more than that that she’d shot her own father because he was abusing her. I didn't know how to tell her what Greg had done to me, and I had never gotten the words off my chest.

I wrapped an arm around my girlin orange, and she returned the embrace. With me in her arms, we rolled back onto the futon so she could cuddle me. I understood this was a big moment for her. For the first time since her and her father's trials, she had talked about this, and I feel like a part of her has died and come back to life. She's crying; an inexplicable warmth has overcome her voice; her eyes display an emotion beyond the usual empty lust. The emotions she felt were actually noticeable by others.

“Hannah, would you tie me up again?” she asked me in a different tone.
“Why?” I asked to make sure it was a genuine desire.
“So I can be safe in your arms and love you?” she was deep in the web of traumatic recollection.
“All right, sweetie, let's play, all right?” I asked as our lips met.
“Mm hmm,” she rolled on top of me and started crying.
“Mmmm,” I wrapped my arms around her.

Michela had never cried like this. Then it hit me that she was crying. Out of 16 girls in our pod, the only ones who never cried were Mary-Ann and Michela. Mary-Ann had no reason to cry, but Michela was incapable of crying. This was such a major development in her life, and as I held her in my arms I realized that I was the way by which she was finding her healing from what had happened over 3 years before. Being able to cry was a step in recovery.

Taking my shirt sleeves, I dried Michela’s tears with affection until she was done crying. When she was done, she looked at me with a warm smile that was tinged by the usual fear in her eyes, and soon that faded away and was replaced by the lustful Michela. Progress had been made, and I was rewarded with the most passionate kiss Michela had ever planted on my lips before, which was like an electric shock through my body.

Uncertain of what to do, I decided that I should teach Michela some new things in bondage. Reverse prayer couldn't be done to her; I’d break her arms. Instead, I pulled
her hands up to the opposite shoulder and tied these crossed wrists. She offered me no resistance while I tied her arms or any ropes for that matter, and I felt… loved. I tied a much more detailed breast harness than the kinds she was used to receiving with the Moreau’s, and I ran a crotch rope under Michela's panties complete with knots along it. I tied her legs in the familiar way but added a second bond on her thighs. I took her socks off, tied her big toes together with a zip tie, stuffed her socks as well as my own in her mouth, applied strips of the double sided tape, and OTM gagged her with my bandana.

Michela was immediately aroused by all this despite her fading distress, and I began opening her blouse. She loved these blouses and skirts so much and had an army of them. She turned to this kind of clothing, I assumed, because of the now burned clothes she had been forced to wear while he abused her. Michela peered deeper into my eyes than she'd ever peered before and orgasmed just from having her tits exposed at my hands.

“I promised my friend I would call her. If you're good, I will introduce you to my old friends, the Cool Girls’ Club,” I said and erotically kissed Michela.
“Ah ove ou, Hannah,” she replied with deep emotion while I hid her tits under a blanket.
“Hold on, Jenny said it's OK. We’ll chat, and then we'll play. OK?”
“Mmm mmm.”
“All right,” I laid down on the futon with her and attached the phone to her selfie stick.
“Hannah! I just knew you’d be calling and made sure I was at Joy's dorm for this!”

I felt wanted, and my gagged lover groaned alongside me. Michela’s eyes seemed to scintillate as I spoke with my former friends, most of whom saw me as a friend they patiently awaited to return from a long journey. Jenny and Nichole, the latter of whom I have discussed, seemed to be absolutely charmed to talk to me, but the others stayed away beyond a cordial greeting with one of them, a blondish girl named Joyce, being the friendliest of the lot.

Jenny… I of course begged her to reach out to Kendra.

Then the call was done, and Michela reveled in Jenny’s kindness. I did too, actually, and moved the blanket to reveal the thoroughly bound and gagged hottie in distress, Michela Palmeri. A girl who had no experience with these was of course extremely curious about the crotch rope and its duties. She pulled on it and squirmed in deep arousal, and she groaned even more loudly when I jerked on it. I made it worse for her by hogtying her from her ankles to her arms and connecting it to the crotch rope.

“Did you like that?” I asked her in a sensual manner and kissed her gagged lips.
“Mmm,” she nodded slowly and looked at me with lust.
“I love you too.”

I wrapped my arms tightly around Michela’s chest and began planting slow, heavy kisses on her cheeks and lips. She fought me a little, but that crotch rope was more than she could bear. How I loved to hear her groan in orgasm, and she groaned while peering into my eyes with emotions I had never felt from her. She was genuinely aroused more so because of my involvement in these actions than the actions themselves.

I wondered what she thought of the taste of her cute orange socks mixed with my own socks, and I loved the sight of her bound and gagged even more when she was wearing a matching bandana like she was at the moment. I couldn’t help but grind my crotch against her thigh while holding her like I was; she was such a hottie in distress!

I was unable to resist kissing and fondling her tits, her gorgeous perfect tits. They were perfect from so much time spent in the gym each day even after her release and from all the exercise in prison. They were full and gorgeous and all mine to do as I wished. I squeezed, kissed, pinched, massaged, and caressed them to arouse her and make her happy while also satisfying my desires with them.

Michela reveled in being tied up so tightly, and her mixed reactions to it told me that she hadn’t been tied so tightly since that fateful night. Perhaps this wasn’t as strict, tight, or rough as those were, but it was more than the scenes at the Moreau’s home. Most important to me was that Michela had the same feeling as she did when she felt safe even if she wasn’t as perky as she usually was. She was tired but triumphant.

The big gag was a strange source of joy to her; she enjoyed the embarrassment of having another person’s socks in her mouth as much as I enjoyed doing it to others. As bondage partners, so far in our experiences she enjoyed receiving nearly every single torture I enjoyed giving. Unable to resist, I began tickling her belly, but something disappointing happened. Nothing. I felt Michela go limp in my arms, and I realized something sad immediately: due to her trauma, she could no longer enjoy being tickled and had completely shut down that function.

“Mmmm,” she turned herself around and looked at me with embarrassment.
“No worries, honey,” I kissed her gagged lips, “Not everyone is ticklish.”
“Ah uv ou,” she said again and sighed with a brief spark of true love in her eyes, but it faded.
“I love you too… in a different way from all of our other friends,” I kissed her cheek and jerked her crotch rope.
“Mmmmmm,” she softly orgasmed and melted in my arms and simply tried to stretch.
“You,” I played with her hair, “are beautiful.”

I now crushed her as deep as the futon allowed while showering her with kisses and grinding my body against hers. My body was burning with so much passion that it hurt; I wanted to cum so badly that I couldn’t put it into words. I ground her slowly and deliberately and pushed against her body as roughly as possible; as I have said, I struggle to orgasm without the stimulation of a machine or c-ck. When I orgasmed, I groaned loudly enough that anyone in the upper leg of the staircase to the attic could have heard it.

“Lights out,” I performed an old CGC trick by blindfolding Michela with her own bandana.
“No no no!” she immediately reacted.
“What’s wrong?”
“NO! NO! NOO!”

I immediately recognized a panic attack; Michela was soon to learn that I got night terrors in my own right. Her heart rate spiked so much that I thought she’d explode; her body went as cold as a refrigerator; she started shaking uncontrollably. I pushed the blindfold up and off her eyes and gently unpeeled the tape. Black saucers greeted me, and those quickly faded. Tonight’s lust was over for me; I felt awful about what I did. She was ready for more in surprisingly short order. I pulled the socks out of her mouth.

“You didn’t know better. Ask before doing anything new. I haven’t had a crotch rope that tight in…,” she trailed but spoke with confidence as she asked once again, “Hannah, why’d he do it?”
“But you’re comfortable blindfolding me?” I knew to change topics, “You’re sweet.”
“Well, yeah! I know you like it; you’ve said so,” her honesty and love was apparent in her tone.
“I’m sorry I scared you. Want to be untied?” I gently fluffed her hair, “Get a massage?”
“I think so. Want to hear about when I broke a kid’s nose during a hockey game?”
“Sure. We’ll get our pajamas on and relax while you get a massage and tell me about hockey.”

Hockey was a passion of Michela’s as you may have figured out. In juvie, she always asked for score updates from the guards and would ask for the games to be put on during the little time we had to watch before bed. When she got sprung, a coming home party saw her receive a t-shirt from her beloved team. Now, while wearing a brand new pair of pajamas, she told me the story of breaking a kid’s nose during a fight and getting suspended for a long time for it. In fact, while she told her story, in the background a TV showed the Minnesota Wild game right behind us.

When we were done with the massage, we got under the covers with me cuddling her and snoozing underneath the covers while she watched the game to its conclusion. It was just the start of what would be an amazing period of me living full-time with the Palmeri family.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Tomorrow, Hannah and Michela are going to Mary-Ann’s for a TUG party, but Mary-Ann went shopping and has invested in some TUG supplies of her own using her modeling money. In what order will Mary-Ann bizarrely exploit Hannah’s kinks in exploring her desire to dominate girls?

(A) Carpet: Hannah and Kylie are tied so their gagged mouths are on each other’s bare crotches.
(B) Embarrassment: Hannah and Kylie are tied with one of the other’s stocking feet as the gag.
(C) Humiliation: Hannah is tied in spreadeagle and face down on the bed, gagged with Michela’s c-mmy panties (freshly c-mmed!), and spanked and vibed by Mary-Ann.

Rank your choices 1-2-3. I will use a 4-2-1 points system to determine the order. Don’t worry; Hannah will be naked for each one. Foot lovers and humiliation kinksters will enjoy this one.

[harveygasson]

C
A
B

[Lucky Lottie]

Tough choices. I'll say A,B,C

[johopp]

B A C

[Caesar73]

B!

[hafnermg]

B

[AlexUSA3]

I'm going to pause this poll here, but please keep commenting on the story as you like!

Final order...
B: Socks
A: Carpet
C: Panties

Those panties will be quite soaked by the time they reached Hannah's mouth.

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

Two of you didn't follow the instructions on how to vote, so I will not do that kind of poll again.

I promise a run of less despondent interludes. I figured I’d get most of the ugly business out of the way in one story. The last somewhat negative interludes will explore how Mary-Ann, Michela, and Kylie landed in the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center. Those will be in Chapter 2 of this story. For this Chapter and Chapter 3, enjoy what will be the last few more generic overview interludes before I present more concrete and specific stories from my year in juvie and, when appropriate, stories from Michela, Mary-Ann, and Kylie’s time from before I arrived and after my departure, if it serves to further the current story.

Story 6 Chapter 1: My New Home

February 1, 2015

It’s amazing to open my eyes and see a clock at 6:02 AM. I asked Michela not to turn on the alarm, and for the first time since Monday, November 26, 2012, I woke up after 6:00 AM. But then my day turned around for a moment when I saw Michela doing morning stretches, and like a robot I got out and started doing the same.

“Wait a minute,” I start.
“Quiet time, Hannah.”
“No, wait a minute,” I grabbed her by the arms, “Let’s go back to bed.”
“But what about…,” it was my turn to shut her down.
“Take a minute. Relax. Let’s go back to bed.”
“All right, all right,” I could tell she’s in full prison mode.



Michela’s bed, our bed, was cornered like the one in the photo albeit in a less spacious attic. Our bed had an oak finish, though. Those shelves behind the pillows stayed empty, but they were perfect for holding toys during bondage sex. The left drawer held my few clothes.

On one shelf, Michela had a stack of Roman Catholic type books, and above it were some religious things like a small statue of a person I didn't recognize, a lifelike cross figure, and multiple kinds of prayer beads. It was strange to see such fervent devotion toward a religion that said our relationship was sinful. Yet, that tattered old Bible and that prayer book had even been Michela’s companions in prison. I wanted to slap her and tell her to quit being such a superstitious rube.

On top of my pillow lived Achilles the stuffed rabbit. Achilles had lived on each and every pillow of mine except when I lived with Greg; Achilles even was my one thing from home I brought to juvie. Today Achilles lives on my own daughter's pillow. I freely admit I sometimes still cuddle him.

We crawled into bed together, and I looked at Michela and smiled. We were sharing a cell once again, but now we didn't have to hide our behaviors from the guards. We were free to kiss, hug, and screw as we liked. A strange shudder went down my spine with that fear of abandonment again.

“Michela,” I said quietly, “You're not going to throw me out, are you?”
“What?! No! I love you,” she rolled over to look at me, “Our home is yours now.”
“I need help. Mental help. Health help,” I sobbed a little.
“What's troubling you?”
“I have thoughts that you all will abandon me; I enjoy torturing people when they're tied up; right now, I want to throw myself off the staircase so I break my leg so I can see how you all will react.”
“We’ll ask Ma if you can see Dr. Sheridan. He’s my shrink and goes to our church.”
“You really love me underneath that suffering, don't you?” I asked, and she nodded.

I lost control of myself, brought my lips to hers, and crawled on top of her while she laughed and enjoyed my passion. What a beautiful, albeit stressful, start it had been to our life together. Michela enjoyed me for a minute before pushing me off, reminding me not to be manipulative like that. Passion was good, but sexually exciting her to try to be the center of her attention was bad.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 41: Girlfriends
February 14, 2013

After two weeks of my newfound sexual relationship with my cellmate Michela, I got to witness what I had been told about Mrs. Copley and the carefully arranged Valentine’s candy. There was one piece for everyone, and she knew everyone’s allergies and made sure that there was no threat of an allergic reaction. I chose a piece and slowly nibbled it as I walked back to my cell. In the cell, I carefully washed the residue off my fingers while letting the last bits melt on my tongue. It was so good. Thank you, Mrs. Copley.

“Hey,” Michela said as I sat at the desk, “Gorgeous.”
“You’re more gorgeous, Miss Bandana,” I commented on her headband.
“Oh, are you saying,” her voice got quiet, and she showed me a textbook, “That you want me to wear this tonight when we play?”
“Maybe,” I looked at the book as if she were explaining something to me, “Be my Valentine?”
“Oh, really?” she blushed and went blank, “Ummm… yeah! Yeah! Sure!”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

I knew she was in love with me for a week or more now, but she was too traumatized and shy to ever admit it on her own. There was one ray of light in this prison for her, and it was I much to my fear of making things worse. It was a cold, cruel place to be especially in winter when we were limited on time spent outside. But, one night, after a soft snow, our gym instructor let us IV’s spend our gym time having a snowball fight in the outdoor gym. Another story for another time.

“Hi, baby,” my friend in the blue bandana slipped down.
“Our first Valentine’s as a couple, right?” I teased her a little and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hannah, when did you realize I had fallen in love with you?”
“I realized it a week ago and backtracked to conclude you fell in love with me at Christmas.”
“You’re right,” she smiled, “I do love you.”
“I love you too.”

It wasn’t our first night of passion, but it was the first time doing it as a mutually agreed couple. I remember that night like it was yesterday.

I don't know why I went to church with the Palmeri’s when I was raised “enlightened” and wasn't even agnostic. I was raised godless by my parents, much to my grandma’s consternation. In spite of this, there was something enlightening about it all. Michela truly believed in it despite her bizarrely hypocritical relationship with me; she was in a lesbian relationship! How could her own mother allow us to live like this and yet also practice those antiquated beliefs? Did they mock me by seeing this as but a phase of our recoveries from our respective experiences? Were they simply in resistance to the obsolescence of their own creeds and merely tolerated them? Maybe they accepted it and left it to Michela to decide for herself and chose to love her despite disagreeing?

I liked it though. Something about it called out to me, but I wasn't answering the call yet. I’d fulfilled a strange curiosity, and maybe I’d go once a month out of respect for them and for my friend Mary-Ann who held the same beliefs. I figured I would learn to at least see the world from another angle.

Even in prison, in her spare time, I’d be reading while Michela absorbed those same old books that she had here. Oh, I’d read many books by various philosophers and ideologues in order to expand my worldview. Never had I read anything that had the influence on me that those did on her. My view of life was changing, though, and you already know some of the results but will get to see how I reached some of the life-altering conclusions.

“Michela…,” I started crying as we climbed into the SUV to go to Mary-Ann’s, “I need to talk.”
“What’s getting you going now?”
“I should have been a mom,” I blurted out, “I wanted that baby, and they killed it!”
“Mom? Baby? Who are they?! Hannah, what's wrong?!” sadness fell over Michela.
“Greg forced me to kill my baby. Michela, I want it back so badly!” I was hysterical.
“Calm down, calm down, I’m sorry,” she was now holding me while I cried, “I didn't even know.”

I only told Michela about the abortion and how it broke my heart. Her beliefs said it was wrong already, so she really felt bad for me right now. My pain was hers, and her pain was mine. I couldn't bring myself to say the rest so soon. Soon, I was drying my eyes as she drove us to pick up Kylie.

Michela was so cute in her pink knee skirt, black long-sleeve shirt with a V neck, blue socks, and blue bandana headband. I was frumpy as always with white sweatpants, an old blue t-shirt, and a decrepit white kerchief bandana. Why did she love me so much as to share in pains like she did? Why did anyone tolerate me? Even now my friends, husband, and other loved ones still have to tolerate my random swings and traumatic recollections, but at least the rants about the lost baby are more infrequent now.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 42: Ace Student
February 15, 2013

The next day was also special. It was during morning class that Miss Schumacker took me aside and out of the classroom for five minutes to tell me how gifted she thought I was and that with her help I could finish high school by the end of the academic year. In a way, she was right since all of my work in the workbooks was at least two books ahead of the class if not further. A few of us just raced along with nothing better to do in our “quiet time in our cells.”

“What do I have to do?” I asked her with confidence.
“Just spend every chance you get outside rec time working. Put down the reading books; quit the chitter chatter with your cellmate. Fly through it all, girl. You can do it.”
“What do I get out of it?” fears arose along with doubts, “I’m just a hard worker, not smart.”
“Grades aren’t everything, and you beat the system. You’ll get to do other things with your time, but you’ll be ready to take on the world when you’re out of here.”
“I’ll try my best,” I said despite my lack of belief in myself.

The next 3 months and 18 days were an incredible whirlwind of activity as I blasted through both 11th and 12th grade materials for everything possible. The only things I couldn’t blast through so easily were language and my computer elective. I just worked diligently at those for a couple of weeks after the others were done; Miss Schumaker pulled tons of strings for my sake. I love her so much for what she did.

“Hottie, hottie, hottie!” Kylie said when she jumped in behind us.
“Hi,” I had become the vacant one.
“We’re struggle bussing,” Michela explained, “Be nice.”
“I don't judge. How is it sharing a bed?” our third girl for threesomes eagerly asked.
“She's such a sweet cuddle buddy. Honestly, she’ll make the cuter and cozier tied up cuddle toy,” Michela rubbed my back while we were stopped at a light.
“Hannah, you're going to get help, right?” she asked to my comfort.

Mary-Ann rented a small, but nice, home. Of course, she had a better job and wasn't trying to go to college. OK, loading trucks for FedEx wasn't great, but it was honest work. When we arrived, Kendra was already there with fresh bruises. Her parents did not like her source of income, it seemed. It just never went her way with things when she wasn't with us. Entering M.A.’s helped snap me out of my funk for the moment.

“Hannah, ever hear of Nabber Cellar?” Mary-Ann asked me.
“Oof, that guy from St. Paul? The one who does the super heavy scenes?” I asked.
“Yeah, him, Kendra and I are doing a shoot with him this week.”
“You're crazy. He does lezdom heavy R and shit like that!”
“He does a lot more than that. Well, we’ll find out. I made a deal with Kendra that if it all goes well I will finally get a phone.”
“Finally adjusting to post-juvie life.”
“The hell you say. Look at us,” Kendra laughs.

We all stood in juvie pose. It was a sad sight, really. In a type of joke, M.A. even was wearing black sweatpants and a lavender pocket t-shirt, which for me was absolutely unfathomable, and she even had that same black bandana holding her hair back in a kerchief. The outfit that reminded me of my liberation from my r-pist reminded her of a life with a dependable, fixed routine

We had a bizarre relationship with it all. Kylie was similarly dressed with orange and orange. I had five outfits total and created new outfits by changing the pairing, but I had an outfit that recalled a prison suit. You know what Sweetie and I were wearing, and Kendra had the most normalcy with green jeans and a purple long-sleeve t-shirt.

“I'm here to explore… my interest in domination,” M.A. said thoughtfully.
“And you want volunteers?” I asked, “If so, I’m number one.”
“Glad to help!” Michela immediately agreed to this since I had.
“Oh, what the hell, sure!” Kylie took the bait.
“I’ll be your apprentice,” Kendra giggled a little.
“Excellent,” Mary-Ann had a glow in her eyes.

► Show Spoiler

Interlude 43: Graduation
July 3, 2013

“Hannah Larsson, please go to the teachers’ offices,” came over the speaker while I washed the breakfast dishes alongside some prison employees.

I hated that job because they shackled me for it using shiny stainless steel cuffs so that I could not theoretically stab anyone or break a dish over their heads. Me? I guess I wasn’t supposed to stab myself either although most inmates felt that way after 6 months. A guard came and led me away to the offices in the little time left before gym. In the office was Miss Schumaker.

“Hannah, on Friday afternoon, I got your test results,” she picked up a big envelope.
“How did I do?” I sat down in a chair with fear in my eyes.
“You aced them,” she smiled broadly, “Congratulations on graduating high school.”
“I passed?! Oh my God! Miss Schumaker! Thank you so much!” I started crying instead.
“Congratulations! I even made up this special diploma for you to bring home after it’s all said and done.”
“You’re so sweet,” I’m feeling the abandonment so badly right now, “I wanna go home!”
“Hannah,” her words remain with me, “It was a joy to have you. You’re the best student I ever had.”

And that was the end of school for me while in juvenile detention. There were other things to do though.

What the f-ck, Mary-Ann? Are you insane? Are you incredibly kinky? Hell, are we this kinky too? Oh, Lord, what a spot to be in! It's absolutely insane! This girl has no internet yet has discovered the most bizarre bondage thing I have ever experienced.

Kylie’s foot, with her sweaty gym sock because that's where she spent her morning, is in my mouth, toes, fabric, and all! My foot is in her mouth in a similar way. Cheese I have never eaten like this before! Ropes wrap around my neck and her ankle with it cinched until it's almost choking.

Between our bodies is 6 feet of two inch metal pipe that M.A. found in a dumpster. She ties my head, my neck, and Kylie’s foot to the pipe so that we cannot pull the gag apart. My friend is tied similarly. We have our crossed wrists tied behind our backs, a tight harness in the Tied After Class style, a waist and crotch rope like I’ve used on all of them in private games, and ropes tying our legs twice on each segment. Each rope is worked around the pipe as well, if possible.

Oh, by the way, we're buck naked except for our socks. It's kinkier that way, and both Michela and Mary-Ann are having fun with us. Michela jumped between kissing each of us and playing with our tits, and Mary-Ann spanked us, stuck her fingers into each of our p-ssies, and twisted our tits.

Sucking on Kylie’s toes was quite humiliating. Somehow, cummy laundry and dirty laundry weren't as revolting as having the sock with the foot still inside it. Kylie, on the other hand, was enjoying having to suck both toes and socks, and a new kink now was in her life. Carpet, other people's cummy panties (and other people's panties just in general), dirty socks, literal feet, worn bandanas… we were a kinky bunch of prison teens!

Kendra proudly MC’d for the moment without getting involved. She didn't know her place in bondage except that she found it an exciting way to make a quick and honest dollar. She was leery, I think, because of the beatings from her folks, and the monitor on her ankle depressed her so badly. As I said before, she’d do things like take Nyquil just to get sleepiness from it so she could fall asleep early. She was still a druggie, but one with whom I can empathize a bit better than I could when she snorted C. She had the perfect match in M.A., a strong girl who would keep her under control without the heavy hand of the law or her parents. Talking about Kendra makes me cry. Sorry.

Michela knows me so well. She knows I find her fashion to be unbearably attractive and dresses to make me warm inside, but she went further this time. Knowing all my kinks like she does, she ground her pantied crotch against my face as best as the pipe allows her. Seeing Michela’s example, Mary-Ann tried it too, but she quickly found that she is 100% straight and stopped. It was the beginning of Mary-Ann Voisin’s experiments in bisexuality, and it was the end too!

We were a happy lot, though. We had each other, and we were safe together. Here, Michela and I could forget the past, embrace the present, and dream of the future. Kylie, Mary-Ann, and Kendra weren’t free of suffering; theirs wasn’t sexual though. I admit that at this point in my life I wouldn’t even have dated a boy no matter how nice he seemed.

The spanking, tit torture, kissing, groping and brutal grinding were quite arousing, and I squirted onto Mary-Ann’s fingers. She grimaced for a while before bursting into laughter and getting up to wash her hand. She was really kinky and loving this method of discovering new kinks.

We were just getting started.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

In the next chapter, Mary-Ann explores the thrill of kidnapping by grabbing Michela. What does Mary-Ann do to Michela?

(A) Strappado: set up so that moving her arms pulls on the crotch rope
(B) Predicament: stand up on her tiptoes or yank on her clamped tits
(C) Deep-freeze: rigid hogtie where relaxation pushes her face into a basin filled with ice.

Don’t worry; Michela will have a great time no matter which choice is made.

[johopp]

C please