Surviving The Past: Complete (MM/F)

[Tieup1]

An excellent chapter. Plenty of detail, well written, as usual. I love the mind games that seem to be going on. Freya has got experience in surviving tough challenges, she is a force to be reckoned with. The guys have the advantage of numbers, but will it be enough. ?

[slackywacky]

Great continuation. I like the power play between the characters, although Freya seems to be on the losing end.
Thank you for writing this story.

[Beaumains]

This is really good writing. Please keep it up.

Thanks a lot! Here is the next part, which for my current pace, is very fast.

Freya is beautiful character [mention]Beaumains[/mention] . She is strong. Even under this circumstances. When I read this chapter I saw Freya stumbling barefoot through the mud. Seemingly not intimidated by her captors. Such spirit should be rewarded

Rewarded by who? The captors or the story's author? Or should I introduce a participation trophy for her? Thanks for taking the time to comment.

An excellent chapter. Plenty of detail, well written, as usual. I love the mind games that seem to be going on. Freya has got experience in surviving tough challenges, she is a force to be reckoned with. The guys have the advantage of numbers, but will it be enough. ?

Thanks! Well, whether it will be enough is a hard question. She only needs one opportunity...

Great continuation. I like the power play between the characters, although Freya seems to be on the losing end.
Thank you for writing this story.

No, thank you for your comments!
----------------------------------------------------------------
“Does it hurt?” Sean asked as he knelt down and opened his backpack. “We got some first aid with us. Let me grab it.”

Freya deduced her forehead was bloody. With her hands still bound behind her back and without a mirror, she had to rely on the men to inspect it. “Only a little. Is it serious?” Freya replied. Her heart and lungs still worked overtime to make up for the effort she had been putting in.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Did I fall on a rock?”

“No, the base of a fallen willow. Fortunately, otherwise, we would have had to call the chopper.”

Roman knelt next to Freya on the ground. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

Freya panted and stared around, seeing the world tumble. She had been conscious, so it could not be a real emergency, she believed. “A little, but it’s not too bad.”

“Sean, get that tiny flashlight. We got to check whether it’s not a concussion.”

Freya sighed and stared at the tiny cylinder she had to follow with her eyes. It hurt, but she did not dare to chicken out of this adventure now. Sean cleaned the wound with stinging alcohol and covered it with a bandaid. It took a moment for Sean and Roman to give the green light, allowing her to continue. They would observe her carefully and still abort the recording if she had a concussion.

“You won’t walk yourself anymore,” Roman smiled as he detached the vine leach from her arms. “We allowed it once, and you already caused accidents.”

Finley let Freya drink water from a bottle as she felt a bump grow on her forehead. He grabbed her and put her in his arms while her muddy dress stuck to his shirt.

“Ready to continue?” Sean asked, and Freya nodded with a faked smile. After Roman had filmed a bit explaining the situation and Sean had packed his backpack, the men resumed their journey north.

Freya relaxed in Finley’s arms, still recovering from her bluffed attempt to keep up. She was disappointed in herself for misstepping, and the comfort of being carried had been the easy way out. It had saved her the humiliation of surrendering and being messed with to admit defeat openly. There had been no punishment of any sort. All in all, a letdown as her actions had to have consequences. Otherwise, what had been the point of playing?

Every five minutes, Sean checked up on Freya, examining whether she had any concussion symptoms. Fortunately, he found none, save for exhaustion. However, Freya could explain that one.

The majestic forest slowly changed to wet grasslands as the group crossed another valley. They thrashed through high ferns, reed and tall grasses, and small streams. The men’s boots and trousers were rapidly soaked, as due to murky water, they kept them on. One pointy stem hidden in the water could end the expedition.

If this had happened yesterday, Freya would have enjoyed their struggles and complaints. But now she felt like a burden: Too weak to put up a fight and create a challenge. Escaping now would be gutless. The men had not even taken the effort to tie her legs.

“Anything wrong?” Sean asked as they sat down in a meadow for lunch. “Something I can do for you? You seem a bit down this morning.”

“Nothing,” Freya replied.

“Really?” Roman intervened, sitting down next to Freya. “C’mon, tell.”

Even after spending two days with her childhood hero, Roman could still lit a small fire in Freya’s heart. “Nothing that’s your fault, I mean. I’m just frustrated with myself.”

The men comforted her, telling her she was doing great. They untied her hands and washed her dress while the water boiled on the fire. The warm herbal tea did her well. It was hotter than the day before, and Freya enjoyed not having the almost solid garment folded around her. Being tied blindfolded to a tree in her underwear was more comfortable while the men gathered more food and supplies. The lack of clothing did not bother her as Matt and Henry had promised not to film that bit, even though it would increase the ratings.

Freya’s hands were bound together at hip height around a young birch behind her. The third rope kept her elbows close, although they were far from touching. As a sort of occupational therapy, she tried to cut the ropes by grinding them against the rough bast but to no use. Her back and bra had to resist the same movements. As Freya also gave up on the escape plan, the bast turned from a potential key to the scholarship to a very annoying adversary.

It took an hour for Roman and Finley to return with a backpack full of nuts, edible grasses and plants, and berries. They watched Freya struggle for a moment as her blindfold prevented her from seeing them. Then Finley fed Freya a handful of blueberries before he untied her, let her dress in the clean, torn white nightdress, and tied her up once more. With her hands behind her back and ankles joined, she was carried for the final stretch of the day. They had covered many miles already in the morning.

“But, it’s getting more difficult,” Sean warned. “Now we’re getting into the real mountains, which is the last big obstacle. Six miles may sound like little for an afternoon, add 3000 feet of climbing, and we surely get some footage.”

Roman and Finley groaned as Sean explained there would be trails, but they had to avoid them and take the direct route. Soon the first white cliffs appeared on the horizon, but to Freya’s disappointment, little changed for her. The men switched more often who had to carry their damsel because Sean did not allow Freya to walk herself. She had to be bound, and so safety would always be an issue. “And we don’t want to play little games here. Running down these slopes is suicide.”

Although Freya saw her chances at a scholarship diminish by the minute, she could not deny Sean was right. The lunch break and bondage had let reset her focus on her goal of escaping, but here it would be ridiculous. The mountains had steep slopes that were demotivating to ascend combined with enormous boulders unsafe to climb without equipment, let alone while carrying a bound damsel in distress. And then, if she escaped, she also had to outrun the men. It was simply not worth it. Luckily, being a smartass would not kill her captors.

“I’m so glad you aren’t fooling around,” Roman panted as he lifted Freya in Finley’s arms.

“Nah, I doubt it’s a good idea to waste my energy now,” Freya responded, not having moved a muscle in the past hour. Even Sean did not appreciate the jokes anymore and demanded her to be gagged. A clot of cloth was fastened in her mouth, and Freya could not complain about the sun and that Ubers were more comfortable anymore.

Sean had set their destination on top of a high mountain that looked down on hills in every direction. As luckily no other hikers had claimed the spot for the night, the team built a camp and roasted the big hare they had caught in the morning. After five similar meals, Freya loved the wild meat. Little could beat the flavour and texture of real wild meat. Combined with Finley’s cooking skills, him allowing her to eat with her own hands and the best sunset of the state, she was jubilant. Only a successful escape lacked.

While Sean, Matt, and Henry set up their tent, Roman constructed another shelter out of pines. All three, who had to sleep there, looked envious at the warm sleeping bags and comfortable sleeping mats but did not dare to name them.

“The little princess complained about her security measures last night, so we do it a little different tonight,” Finley laughed. He put two spruces parallel to each other on the stinging bed and bound them to trees and rocks with improvised ropes. Freya had to lie down between them, and her hands were tied three feet apart at hip height. For good measure, her ankles were tied again together. The men laid the blanket out over, covered it with more branches, and tucked themselves in as well.

“Good night, guys,” Freya said as she turned her head and saw that Roman, who laid next to her, still wore his belt. That belt contained his iconic knife with a handle made out of rosewood. Maybe, somewhere in the night, it would come in her reach.

[slackywacky]

I wonder what the mountains will bring. Maybe Freya learned something from hurting herself (maybe not)...

Great chapter.

[iliketights]

Somehow I missed the beginning of this story, but I sure loved catching up. This is great. I can't wait to find out if she ever reaches the knife!

[GreyLord]

You just have to love Freya. She will take a break for a little bit. Then she is back looking for an opportunity. Can't say she will find one. But she is looking.

[Tieup1]

Freya will have to use all her skills, and cunning ways to out smart these guys. The knife will be tempting, but is it worth the risk ?

[iliketights]

“They do, but I have been tied tighter and for longer. The casting consisted of being tied to a chair for 8 hours. That really isn’t the problem.”

"It had not been the first time she had been tied for so long. For years, her older sister had tied her to her bed at night, and her scout troop had pranked each other with long and dangerous ties. Her last boyfriend had hung her upside down on top of a 50-feet flagpole and only released her when she agreed to go out to the fancy pizza place with him."

“She spent half her youth in these forests and has been tied up plenty of times. She’s a perfect victim for this experiment.

******************

Even these casually tossed out lines send my head spinning. I would love to read a novel-length book about Freya's past experiences! This is a great story.

[Beaumains]

You just have to love Freya. She will take a break for a little bit. Then she is back looking for an opportunity. Can't say she will find one. But she is looking.

Thanks a lot! Yeah, Freya is a bit stubborn sometimes.

Freya will have to use all her skills, and cunning ways to out smart these guys. The knife will be tempting, but is it worth the risk ?

I do not see which risk there would be for Freya. Even if she fails, would the men punish her even further?

Somehow I missed the beginning of this story, but I sure loved catching up. This is great. I can't wait to find out if she ever reaches the knife!

“They do, but I have been tied tighter and for longer. The casting consisted of being tied to a chair for 8 hours. That really isn’t the problem.”

"It had not been the first time she had been tied for so long. For years, her older sister had tied her to her bed at night, and her scout troop had pranked each other with long and dangerous ties. Her last boyfriend had hung her upside down on top of a 50-feet flagpole and only released her when she agreed to go out to the fancy pizza place with him."

“She spent half her youth in these forests and has been tied up plenty of times. She’s a perfect victim for this experiment.

******************

Even these casually tossed out lines send my head spinning. I would love to read a novel-length book about Freya's past experiences! This is a great story.

Thanks a lot for your comments! I try to include these detailsed mini-stories exactly for that reason, so I am glad you enjoy them. Unfortunately, there won't be any more tales of Freya besides this story. Sometimes it is better to let the head wander than to tell it things explicitely!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sight of the knife pumped vast amounts of adrenaline through Freya’s veins. She needed a plan but instead almost panicked. A dreadful strategy, as she had to calm down, wait until the men had fallen asleep, and not arouse any suspicion she had spotted a potential mistake. Her ankles were cuffed together, and she lay between two poles made of fallen pine trees to which her hands were secured at hip height.

“Think, Freya, use that small, smooth brain of yours for once,” Freya muttered to herself before fiddling with her fingers among the ropes’ ends. In the morning, her captors had stated it had surprised them she had tried nothing that night. So instantly falling asleep could make them wary.

Of course, any attempt was useless. Roman and Finley would call Freya’s bluff as her fingers could not reach the knots, and the knots would not undo themselves. In response, she pulled her knees up, so her feet could slip under towards her hands, and by doing so, allowed much cold air to enter the shelter. At least her feet warmed up under her bottom.

“What ya doin’?” Roman yawned, turning around, and Freya saw the white in his eyes near hers. The closer, the better.

“Earning myself a 10k scholarship,” Freya answered nonchalantly.

“You know you have to escape us as well and not only the ropes, do you?”

“Yes, I do, but this is a proof of concept,” Freya replied as her back curled for her right feet reached her right wrist.

“Are you succeeding?”

Freya laughed as she recognized how hopeless it was to untie a tensioned knot with her dirty, almost frozen feet. “What answer would convince you the most to fall asleep? Yes, no, I don’t know, or you’ll see that tomorrow?”

It took Roman a moment to come up with a snarky reply. “All four would be equally good, but listing them makes me the most sceptical.”

Freya had her answer ready. “Then I assume you will lay awake all night, wasting all your energy for tomorrow.”

“Bind her bloody ankles to the trees,” Finley shouted from the other side of the shelter.

Roman turned around and grabbed the leash they had used that morning. “I would lay flat out if I were you. Sleeping with twisted knees won’t be an improvement.”

“Please, at least give me a chance,” Freya pleaded. “It’s hard enough already. Allow me to try, okay? Doesn’t make an underdog story your series even better?”

“Eh, yes,” Roman admitted. “But the underdog should not be so stupid to beg for sympathy. She has to earn it. Now get some sleep.”

Freya settled down and beamed in the darkness. Roman winded the vine around the right pole and her right ankle, finishing the knot outside her reach. She barely noted the extra bounds, lay down, and regulated her breathing as if she was sleeping. First, Freya silently counted to 200, noting it made her dozy. Sheep counting was a terrible method to stay awake. Roman and Finley’s breath was periodic, but it had been only a few minutes. They lay perfectly still, and Freya assumed they had learned to fall asleep in an instant in the military.

To be sure, she visualized the scene of her explaining her adventures to her boyfriend in her head to pass some more time. She envisioned herself in her leather straitjacket he got her for her birthday as he leaned against her body, feeding her peanuts as she talked. She had done so countless times before to explain intricate school work to herself and test whether she understood it.

“You aren’t asleep, are you?” Roman asked an hour later. “Yesterday, your head moved a lot more.”

Freya ignored him and concentrated on her breath.

“And you almost jumped up while I said that. You think I’m naive? Come on, Freya, what’s your plan?”

Freya cursed to herself. “Hope and pray. Tomorrow is the last day, and a daytime escape is unlikely. Even if I untie myself, I cannot outrun you. I have zero chances to win if I won’t succeed tonight.”

“You truly sound like my little sister. She always wants to win and remains cheerful and optimistic, no matter the setback in the most perilous, hopeless situations. You two should meet one time. She’s as crazy as you are and would not escape this. I got some experience under my belt. Tell me your plan. I will not obstruct you any further.”

“Promise?”

“Promised.”

Freya whirled around, almost bumping into Roman, who had edged closer. “That vine around my leg might be breakable with enough grinding. It’s no real rope.”

Roman laughed and called her foolish. “I’m off to bed, but between the two of us, you’ll get paid and receive a good chunk of that scholarship either way. Don’t worry too much about escaping. Your attempts were spectacular already.”

“Thanks, but I try either way,” Freya spoke truthfully. Only her possible approach differed. Roman wished her a good night as she began rubbing the vine against the rough tree with fresh courage. That tactic had failed in the afternoon, but Freya had no intention to let it succeed tonight. She only had to appear to have the perseverance for Roman to give up and fall asleep.

On paper, the plan was idiotic. There was almost no movement in the vine as Freya’s leg was too close to the wood. It would require thousands of grinds while her leg would be plastered with minor wounds. Freya took the fallen tree in her hands to stabilize it and found a rhythm of swinging her ankles back and forth.

Freya lost track of time and the count of her strokes against the resilient plant. It did not break while the tree’s bark got smoother and more damaged, lessening the friction. Even though this made it possible to make longer strokes, the vine got not further harmed. Yet, Freya pushed on and on, unknowing whether it was still necessary.

Then, out of nowhere, the tensions around her ankles decreased, and Freya pulled her ankles aside: The vine had snapped. “Roman,” she whispered. “I succeeded. That scholarship will be mine. Thanks for not believing in me.”

Freya’s heart pounded as she counted to ten as Roman did not respond. Then her bound hand slowly bent outward and touched Roman’s trousers, which he still wore. He had no issues showing off his perfect upper body, but sleeping next to Freya in only his underwear went too far. Freya searched the small area her hand could reach and could touch the leader scabbard of Roman’s knife.

“Come on, come on,” she gasped as the ropes cut into her wrists. She popped the snap button of the scabbard open but could not touch the knife itself. “Please…”

As if her prayers were heard, Roman rolled closer, and Freya’s nails touched the fine rosewood of the handle. She pushed against it and moved the blade outward inch by inch. Every little sound she made let her pause and pray. Then, finally, the knife dropped out, and Freya caught the sharp end, fully aware of the risk. Then she tilted it upward and let it drop, clutching the handle. Then, in one movement, she cut her left wrist free before releasing her other wrist and ankles as well. For good measure, the ropes were completely cut into tiny pieces. Even if they recaptured her, she could not be bound.

Freya crawled out of the shelter into the cold, windy, mountain top night and beamed radiantly.

“Shit,” Freya cursed as she stood there in her thin nightdress on her bare feet. Her plan had not encompassed any further than this. Sean had stated she had to escape Finlay and Roman too, and that waking up next to them would not count: Then they would recapture her. Freya needed to be creative to help her through the long night.

[Mineira1986]

Nice!

I usually don't root for the captive to outsmart the captors, but in the way the story is written, I totally want Freya to success. Even if she gets the scholarship either way. Go Freya!

[GreyLord]

Indeed, Go Freya!

[Caesar73]

Indeed, Go Freya!

Do not let you get caught again

[iliketights]

"Then, in one movement, she cut her left wrist free before releasing her other wrist and ankles as well. For good measure, the ropes were completely cut into tiny pieces. Even if they recaptured her, she could not be bound."

Freya continues to impress me. Stopping to render the ropes unusable is not something that would have occurred to me in her situation. Having said that, I'm kind of sad that they will now be unable to bind her again. How is it I find myself rooting for both a captive and her captors at the same time?

I'm enjoying this story immensely.

[GreyLord]

Freya continues to impress me. Stopping to render the ropes unusable is not something that would have occurred to me in her situation. Having said that, I'm kind of sad that they will now be unable to bind her again. How is it I find myself rooting for both a captive and her captors at the same time?

I'm enjoying this story immensely.

I second that. And I like Freya very much.

[Tieup1]

This is her best chance to get away, I hope she finds the strength to beat these guys. !

[Beaumains]

Nice!

I usually don't root for the captive to outsmart the captors, but in the way the story is written, I totally want Freya to success. Even if she gets the scholarship either way. Go Freya!

Thanks for your comment. I get what you mean, but there should be sometimes at least a sliver of hope for the captive, shouldn't there?

"Then, in one movement, she cut her left wrist free before releasing her other wrist and ankles as well. For good measure, the ropes were completely cut into tiny pieces. Even if they recaptured her, she could not be bound."

Freya continues to impress me. Stopping to render the ropes unusable is not something that would have occurred to me in her situation. Having said that, I'm kind of sad that they will now be unable to bind her again. How is it I find myself rooting for both a captive and her captors at the same time?

I'm enjoying this story immensely.

I am glad you are enjoying the story! I am curious how you ever got in such a situation .
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, umm, I got out,” Freya whispered to escape GoPro. “Roman kept his knife just in reach. Only I don’t know what to do now. It’s freezing.”

Freya reddened. Unlike most of her friends, she had little camera experience with Tik-Tok or Instagram. Sean had requested to film herself after escaping and now had to entertain an audience. She glanced at the full, bright moon enringed by silver and golden stars. Their dim light hid her blush while it showed vague outlines on the ground. The other silver lining, the perspective of a hefty scholarship and defeating the men, had no direct consequences, save for lifting her spirit. The thin dress and lack of shoes made her easy prey for the howling winds on top of the mountain.

“Stupid, stupid,” Freya mumbled to the GoPro. “Why do I only start thinking now?” For a moment, she thought about returning to the shelter and wait inside, but it was not worth it. 10,000 dollar for staying cold for a night was a trade Freya was willing to make. “Etha,” she thought out loud about the girl who had failed to escape more than 200 years ago. “What would she have done? Roman and Finley would be her sworn enemies.”

Freya noticed Roman’s knife still rested in her hands. “My knife,” Etha would have said, taking it along during her journey homeward. Food also came to Freya’s mind, and without hesitation, she grabbed the backpack full of food and water, the pan, and everything else that could be of use: The plates, forks, fire stick, and mugs. Everything was hers now. Her captors would be alone on top of the mountain without any gear. They had kidnapped Etha, so they could not expect mercy.

“I’ve no clue what I’m doing, but I’m hiding somewhere along the mountainside from the wind,” Freya said louder to the camera. “Of course, for realism, I should walk all night, getting away, but I’ve won. So I’ll hide out of their sight.”

Freya passed the tent where Matt, Henry, and Sean were fast asleep and carefully made her way down on the side of the mountain in the direction of the wind. She settled between two boulders, where there was cold but no wind.

Freya still shivered and began doing jumping jacks to warm her limps up before she crept back to the camp: She needed more warmth to survive the night. Stealing branches from the shelter was risky, and cutting or stealing the blanket was impossible. That would be foolish, but the boots the men had worn during the day offered some protection. Freya grabbed a pair, unaware and not willing to know whose, and put them on. It fit horribly but much better than standing on the cold stone. Next, she scoured the fireplaces for hot coals that were buried under the sand. Still hot, she filled an aluminium mug with hot coals and returned to the backpack. Ultimately, she ate all the berries, a few handfuls, for the sugar to stay awake. Then she sneaked away, clutching one branch of the shelter. Due to the many footprints surrounding the camp already and wearing the boots, traces would not matter.

“Four more hours,” she promised the GoPro, suspecting five or six. The warm coals warmed her cold hands. “Don’t sleep, move, or make a fire.”


“Freya, Freeeeya!”

“Freya?”

“Where are you?”

“Freya!”

Freya trembled, leaving a trance-like state. She was hiding at the western side of the mountain; The sun was nowhere to be seen. Only the whistling of the birds and disappearance of the stars told her the morning was near. She shivered.

“Freya, come out! You won.”

Drowsily, Freya rose and stumbled out of her bed of gravel and needles. Her joints hurt. Instinctively, she scaled up the mountain, almost bumping into Matt.

“I found her!” he exclaimed before putting his arm around her. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I have won, haven’t I?”

Matt laughed and hugged the shivering girl. “Yeah, you won fair and square, but you look dreadful.”

Freya led him to her hiding spot, and they returned together to the camp, where a fire burned already. Triumphantly, she ate breakfast while detailing the night’s events: Her plan, the mind games with Roman, and her escape.

“I should have known you were lying,” Roman grinned, accepting his loss. “You were way too confident. Well played. I underestimated you.”

With that compliment, Sean handed Freya clean clothes. “It ain’t not much, but we carried them for two days with us.” She appreciated the clean underwear, navy blue sports shirt, black running shorts, white ankle shorts, and brown low-top sneakers after wearing the same dress for more than 50 hours. Despite her tiredness, Freya could keep up with the peck as they followed the trail downward, which was now allowed. “It’s only 6 miles to the motorhome,” Sean stated, and descending is always faster.

Freya enjoyed the walk. She wore shoes and ordinary clothes and was not bound or watched. As the sun started to warm her, her energy, spirit, and passion for beautiful nature returned. She bathed in an ice-cold river and was allowed to dry herself with a towel and brush her hair. With a real hair tie, she bound her hair in a high ponytail, feeling human again. Her feral instincts disappeared as they passed other hikers, unaware and uncaring of what had happened on that mountain the previous night.

A white motorhome without any names or stickers was abandoned at the trailhead. Henry unlocked it and dumped the camera equipment in a safe. The other men followed him and sat down on the sofas as they peeled off their boots and enjoyed the comfort.

“So, um, what’s the plan?” Freya inquired, receiving her phone, wallet, and backpack with spare clothes. “Where will you drop me off? Then I can call my mum already.”

“You think we would leave you here?” Sean said. “No way! Your home is only an hour out of the way, and due to you, we ended filming prematurely.”

“Thanks, guys,” Freya replied, sitting down.

Finley grabbed Freya. “Only, the waiver does not apply anymore, and you’ll travel on our terms.” He hurled her on her stomach and pinned her arms behind her.

“And you had some tie-up time remaining,” Roman added, winding a roll of black gaffer tape around her wrists and crossed ankles. Matt flung a roll of saran wrap to Roman, who began wrapping it around Freya’s ankles. “For the record,” he whispered. “Do you consent to this?”

Freya nodded, and Roman wrapped her entire body in the sweat spawning saran. From her neck to her ankles, he covered her. He removed her shoes and socks, and she obediently accepted the cotton in her mouth.

“You’ve clearly done this before. To make it a challenge, shall we use my socks?”

Freya bobbed her head, and Roman laughed. He fixed her own ankle socks with the tape. Even after the short 6-mile hike, she could taste the sweat. “It’s only three hours, so I assume you’re also okay with a blindfold?”

Freya nodded, and Roman tore off two more strips of tape. At that moment, it all faded to black.

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

This was the end of this story! Thanks you very much to everyone who commented (frequently)! I have never gotten so many replies to a longer story. I hope to return in a week or so with a few shorter stories.

[Mineira1986]

Go Freya!!!

It was a great payoff to see her outsmarting the guys and winning the whole thing. Really nice writing. And to end it, she still gets to be tied up for a little more, although with nothing on the line this time. A good ending.

Great story. Congratulations!

[GreyLord]

Great story and well ended. Freya is indeed a sport. I would comment that there is nothing wrong with rooting for a captive. Sometimes captive and captor are all good folks and we can be happy for all. The last chapter here is a good example of that situation. Sometimes the captive has been bad and richly deserves whatever is happening. And sometimes the character and spirit of the captive compels us to root for the captive. A lot of this story is in that category.You are free to root for whomever your heart tells you to root for.

I'm looking forward to your next work.

[Tieup1]

A very good story, which has been well written throughout, a very enjoyable read. Glad Freya won, and that the guys accepted their defeat.

Well done

[Beaumains]

Go Freya!!!

It was a great payoff to see her outsmarting the guys and winning the whole thing. Really nice writing. And to end it, she still gets to be tied up for a little more, although with nothing on the line this time. A good ending.

Great story. Congratulations!

Thanks a lot!

Great story and well ended. Freya is indeed a sport. I would comment that there is nothing wrong with rooting for a captive. Sometimes captive and captor are all good folks and we can be happy for all. The last chapter here is a good example of that situation. Sometimes the captive has been bad and richly deserves whatever is happening. And sometimes the character and spirit of the captive compels us to root for the captive. A lot of this story is in that category.You are free to root for whomever your heart tells you to root for.

I'm looking forward to your next work.

I think it was not the problem with rooting a for a captive or underdog. There is nothin wrong with that. I suppose it was the problem that folks prefer girls to be bound and gagged which is impossible if they escape. The general consensus seemed to be pro-Freya and pro-bondage, hence the ending . Thanks for your comment.

A very good story, which has been well written throughout, a very enjoyable read. Glad Freya won, and that the guys accepted their defeat.

Well done

Thank you very much!

[Caesar73]

I enjoyed the final of the story very much - the pefect finish of this story. With Freya you created a wonderful character!