Spy Camp (m+f+/m+f+) Part 37

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Ovi1
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Post by Ovi1 »

I really liked this chapter. Your descriptions of the tying process are fantastic.
I believe you would be a lot more comfortable in ropes
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Post by harveygasson »

This really is a fantastic story!
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Post by Beaumains »

Another long break. Oops.
------------------------------
Uneased, Giselle tapped her thumbs against her other fingers. Neither she nor Ocelot made efforts to make conversation. There was no need to. From the park bench, they monitored an all-tied-up Willet lying on the monkey bars. Soon, Giselle had learned not to worry about Willet’s well-being constantly; any distress signals would be loud and clear. In fact, keeping watch of your captive was boring. Yet, next to Ocelot, she could not relax.

“Could you please stop that? It’s really annoying.”

“Sorry,” Giselle replied. Her feet had been knocking against the wood.

“You okay, Swift Fox?”

“Yeah,” she lied, unable to disregard the absurdity of the situation. Known by an animal’s name, she peeked at her tied and gagged bully with a guy she met moments earlier. Red-painted iron, a black tracksuit, thin aquamarine ropes, a thick white rope, and a silky purple scarf. Giselle did not fear the unknown, unexpected, and bizarre and enjoyed leaving her comfort zone. She loved adventure, but being in uncalled awkward and threatening circumstances was not on her bucket list. With arms like fishing rods, Ocelot could grasp and force her into ropes and cuffs if he wanted.

“You’ll get used to it fast. Everyone does. Enjoy your revenge. Make it feel good. You’ll not always get the opportunity.”

“I doubt I can enjoy this.”

Ocelot snickered. “Your options are limited if you don’t want to get traumatized by a summer camp.”

“Ain’t everyone here traumatized already?”

“I am not.”

Giselle’s companion disagreed and joked about an offer: To tie her up for ‘practice.’ “Start afresh with a bold, unbiased mind.”

“And why would I be crazy enough? Or was this your plan all along? Or Willet’s?” Giselle sneered. The trap was obvious enough that a starving fish would ignore that worm. “Can’t you do better?”

Ocelot chuckled again, now like an Italian mafia boss. Did she still have a choice?

“What?” Giselle slammed. “What’s so funny?”

“How stubborn you are. Willet mentioned trust issues, but girl, please, nobody out here wants to skin you alive. Chill. Being tied up is not the end of the world. If you trusted a single person here, then...”

“That person would instantly betray my trust. I’ve been here for more than five minutes, thank you.”

It was too big of a generalization. Spider Octopus had supported her, and Bull Shark had volunteered for some disgraceful roles during the mini-game afternoon.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know. No one ever tells the complete story. Then you end up in the dust with something in your mouth you don’t even touch voluntarily. Then you twist the dagger a few times in the wound for fun as your hands are tied. Literally. Why would tonight be different? Why would you be any different? You are not the first with that offer. To remind you, the previous two times ended poorly.”

“I am sorry to hear that. I wouldn’t...”

“So, be frank, was it Willet’s plan all along you would tie me up?” Giselle continued, gaping at the startled boy in his small black eyes. He had not expected the outburst.

Ocelot admitted that Willet had briefed him to propose it when he got the chance but denied it was a trap. “What? Do we have to gain with a minor prank on someone who won’t tolerate me afterward? Doesn’t make sense from a long-term perspective,” he argued. He promised Giselle no surprises and to release her when she asked. She would be in charge.

Willet had acted as a rotten human being so far, but her acts of repentance could be genuine. Ocelot’s guilt also seemed authentic. She could not dodge these social interactions for weeks, and appeasing Willet could keep her away. Counterintuitively, Giselle saw an advantage in being backstabbed once more. That would give her enough reason to never again interact with her or her cronies or even ask to leave the stupid summer camp. Ocelot was not a politician, being honest and not snaking his way through the exchange. He put clear boundaries in place.

When he fucks me over, I am done with this place. Forever, Giselle told herself as she accepted to be tied up under the conditions.

Ocelot grabbed the linen bag and left for the building to fill it with nastiness. She caught Willet glimpsing at her to confirm her plan had worked, so the bondage did not bother her too much. Eccentric folk.

Minutes later, the long-legged boy reappeared, piercing his distrustful glare at Giselle. She reasoned his neutral expression was unfriendly. The filled linen bag looked emptier without Giselle’s enormous rope. Yet, it would be enough to restrain her till the end of times.

“You ready? Certain to do this? You remember the safe signals?”

Giselle nodded. There was no way back. One more treacherous act would produce a sound argument to get out of this place and enjoy a proper, rope-free summer. Ocelot led her to Willet, where he demonstrated an idea that lived in his mischievous mind. Giselle had to sit on the bottom rung, twist her ankles to the ladder’s base, and hold her arms up to the commander’s golden locks.

Without any more words, Giselle copied Ocelot. He bound her ankles to the insides of the ladder and wrists to the monkey bars next to Willet’s face. With pleasure, Ocelot made her eye the sly, wily Willet. Even with a scarf stuffed in her mouth, her devious smirk was unmistakable. The white hemp ropes were soft, and Ocelot resorted to many windings and cinches to ensure she could not escape instead of relying on tight bindings that cut into her skin. With her hands secured, she was stuck, allowing him to do whatever he desired.

The linen bag opened once more. A black fleece piece of fabric, at least 20 feet long, made its way around Giselle’s body, pinning her to the ladder from her hips to her neck. It pressed her softly against the rungs and allowed her to lean back without requiring her arms to bear the weight. It also wrapped under her upper legs and was slightly flexible, making it different than the steel atrocities and sore rope fibers.

With a smile like feeding a toddler, he showed her a white hollow plastic ball with holes as Giselle’s school used for floorball. A red ribbon was woven through it. As this was part of the unexplainably ridiculous game and necessary for Ocelot and Willet to betray her (and thus offer a valid excuse to exit this damned hellhole), she opened her mouth. The ball flew in. She bit down. It was not too massive and did not interfere with her breath. Ocelot fastened it behind her head with a knot so it tore on the corners of her mouth. Her tongue was already wet with drool.

“Then I’ll see ya girls later,” he beamed, giving Willet a pat on her head which aggravated her. Pleased with himself, he walked back to the park bench behind Giselle, leaving her to watch the inquisitive eyes of her kidnapper of last night. They were playful and amused, trying to reassure her, but most of all, vigilant. They scanned as if she had made a bet about Giselle’s reaction. Giselle tensed her face and eyed the older girl, who adored teasing her, and soon the two entered a staring contest.

Giselle’s enemy should not read her most private thoughts, so she glared until eye contact was broken. She had few alternatives. With her hands secured, mouth sealed, and inability to turn away, anything else than silent mind games had been rendered impossible. A prison cell offered more entertainment.

There were a thousand things Giselle preferred to do now, but, she had to admit, she was not dying a slow death. Her arms and jaw ached, but leaning backward created a decent bouncy chair.

Lying on the steel bars, Willet was less relaxed. The same parts of her body were pressured continually, not only by her own weight but also by Giselle’s heavy rope. Once every while, she tugged to readjust her body and moved an inch at best. In spite of that, she scrutinized Giselle’s facial expressions, not too bothered by the bonds. She tried to catch a response, or worse, a sign of relaxation. Another reason to maintain the staring contest.

Half an hour later, footsteps sounded through the sand, and Ocelot appeared behind Giselle. “You fine?”

Giselle raised her shoulders, not too eager to manufacture a panic attack out of thin air.

“Do you wish to be untied?”

She nodded, and Ocelot released the white ball from her mouth, causing her to swallow saliva floating in her mouth. It felt arid.

“Osslopphh,” Willet cried, jerking her head. The queen demanded attention. Ocelot let out a giggle and also removed her gag.

“Thanks, man,” Willet spoke. She licked her lips and formed a grin, like a waitress suppressing her distaste for a customer. Even at the lowest of lows, she would not bend and acknowledge a setback. “Can I request another favor? Could you come back in, say, 45 minutes? This is an excellent time for me and Swift Fox to talk. We have matters to discuss.”
Last edited by Beaumains 10 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
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Post by Mineira1986 »

Well, Giselle is coming a very slow way. Sure, now she's a bit more willing to engage games, but her attitude is pretty much the same. More like spy camp, it looks like prison camp for her. I had hopes that by this point, she would've found something appealing in the games. My hopes are in the conversation that Willet and Gisella are about to have (alas, they have some conversations in the past).

The way she "punishes" Willet is a clever one and it fits Giselle's character. Going from disliking the games to more "torture" like tickling would've been too much escalation. I liked what Giselle did there.

Descriptions great as always.

(As a footnote, it seems the italics got stuck some where, as pretty much half the chapter is in italics. Just a minor thing =) )
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Post by Beaumains »

“That friend, Alison, and I sneaked into that movie premiere and had a blast. We even got a selfie with that actress, Jennifer Hebrones,” Willet continued, staring Giselle in her eyes. Hers twinkled. “We got free booze and snacks and left over the red carpet. Fantastic night. Living in lower Manhattan, there was always a party someplace, and we got addicted. Cooler events have better security and pose an even greater challenge to enter and stroll around unsuspiciously. Sometimes we had a clever reason we had no ticket, you know, maintenance, being family, forgot a bag inside, everything works if you play the role well. Else, there are employee entrances and neighboring buildings to exploit.”

“And you never got caught?”

The blonde smirked. “Needless to say. That’s part of the game. Most often, you get a scolding when the suckers comprehend you’re no robber, telling you this is not a place for childish mischief. The police got involved a few times, but luckily, I never got charged.”

“How? Sympathetic, reasonable cops are like shiny Pokemon where I’m from.”

Willet broke a smile but did not break eye contact. Being bound so close to each other on the kids’ playground, Giselle had had little other choices than get angry at Willet or go along and converse. “Oh, yeah, knowing you look cute and innocent makes life easy. A little tear can help as well. Just don’t get caught by the same folks twice.”

“So, how did you get here?” Giselle continued. She had no problem with Willet acknowledging manipulating was one of her greatest strengths.

“It was election night, and as always, many politicians brought their children to watch the results, you know, to show they are true family men even though they are in DC most of the time. Al and I got in with some stolen lanyards. The snacks were amazing.” She let out a smirk, cherishing the memory. “But, we had overestimated the size of the political world and got discovered. Before we got kicked out, Washington approached and tricked us into admitting it wasn’t our first hustle. He was kind and a proper gentleman and invited us both here last year, and then I got invited back this year as well.”

“Lucky you,” Giselle scoffed.

“Yeah, you can’t Google this camp. You gotta get invited. Even though they put in quite the effort in finding the best of the best willing to spend a summer here, it’s an enormous country.” She continued to list names and what they did. Ocelot was a taekwondo expert, Tarantula knew a lot about bondage, and Spider Octopus was a Hollywood actress. There were hackers, athletes, eagle scouts, army brats, and everything in between.

Giselle nodded as more and more question marks formed in her head. Why was she here? She had enjoyed her fair share of adventures but lacked special skills or experiences. Especially in the past few months, she had done nothing to qualify, and that was not only her motivation. Besides, without her friends posting the illegal acts online, no one here knew about them.

Then Willet opened her mouth to ask a question Giselle feared: Why was she here? How has she done so well so far?

“I am honest. I don’t know. Probably someone I know overstated whatever and signed me up as a joke.”

“I buy you did not know the full story about Spy Camp, Swift Fox, as I did neither. The rest is a lie. Hiding who you are is implied, but knowing each other’s strengths is helpful. Make up a story or tell me the truth. I don’t care but don’t treat me like I’m naive. I told you the truth. I was honest. Now speak.”

Willet talked as if there was only one choice, but Giselle had no intention to comply with the freak’s commands. She had supplied much information and explanations, but everyone could have taught her that. Whatever Willet deduced from her answers was the real prize.

“Come on, don’t ignore me. Do you really wanna play this game? Earlier, you said something about the police. What’s the story there? What shenanigans did you get yourself into.”

“I, eh, … It’s a bit weird,” Giselle answered, trying to forget about the embarrassing evening inside the abandoned hospital. Fortune and fate had caused a TV crew to visit the exact same day to search for ghosts. Of course, some cop had joined because his job was superfluous in that sleepy town. They hid in a cupboard in a room where some infamous serial killer had spent his last few weeks. This was the central evil spirit of the episode, so they were found and arrested somewhere at the end of the evening. “It was stupid but nothing extraordinary.”

“You’re only making it sound more interesting, Swift Fox,” Willet continued as if she wanted to emphasize the code name. Silence fell, and Willet stopped scrutinizing Giselle’s eyes like a scientist gazing into a microscope. Her mouth fell open, and her face turned pale.

“Don’t. Don’t! Stop it,” Ocelot exclaimed, followed by feminine laughter. Giselle could barely turn her head and saw a group of six girls approach. She recognized Red Deer, Tarantula, someone else from that group whose name Giselle had forgotten, Spider Octopus, Hedgehog, and Honeybee, another girl who joined the camp with Giselle. All had failed the mission earlier today, but now Ocelot’s right hand was cuffed to the bench. Had they escaped? Was that allowed? “Why? What have I done to you? Come here, Tara. Gimme the key.”

“Oh, no, please, I ain’t in the mood to be put in a choke-hold today, little kitten,” Tarantula replied. “I got you on a short lease.” She dangled a key in front of him, and Ocelot leaped forward in a split second, reaching towards the key. Tarantula shifted her hand far away enough. “See, you’re stuck. And your little bird-friend is a little stuck as well, and coincidentally, we have a small score to settle.”

“So, Ocelot. Here’s the deal,” Red Deer interrupted, flinging another pair of handcuffs and a ball gag on his lap. “Gag yourself and cuff that other arm so you can’t touch your face anymore. Then I won’t use offensive chemical warfare on your not-so-lovely little friend. Deal?”

“Go away, stop it.”

“Fine, perhaps our brave commander wants to face some dirty socks,” Red continued. “I heard she looooooves them.”

She walked into the sandpit, and Giselle turned back to Willet, who had fallen quiet for the first time.

“So, whose socks do you fancy? Spoiler alert, all have been worn for at least 12 hours.”

“Guys, can we work something out? Maybe? You escaped, cool, celebrate that. That’s enough winning for tonight.”

Tarantula laughed and laid her hand on Willet’s head. “It’s never enough winning, dear little birdie. Remember last night? You could have stopped your friends but did not give a flying squeak about that. You really should sing a different tune.”

“You’re just another bully, a power-addicted psycho. Come on, take it like a champ tonight, like your cowardly friends who betrayed us earlier today and are still stuck. Oh, yeah, we chose not to release them. Maybe, just maybe, we can discuss peace if you’re willing to make some concessions.”

Willet grinned. She made herself look braver than she was. “Okay, have your fun tonight. You’re still a minority, so won’t win any votes. Too bad. Enjoy your two wins today because I’ll personally make sure they will be your last.”

Meanwhile, Red had stuck her hand under Willet’s shirt and tickled her belly. “Socks it is.”

“And what about our other friend here?” Tara said to Giselle. She was unhappy being here, tied up with some vengeful psychos. Luckily, they were not too interested in her tonight. “Where do you stand?”

“Not sure, I guess. I am still a tad angry about last night… But, eh, to be honest, I want nothing to do with any of this shit,” Giselle stumbled, gaining confidence at the end of the sentence. “Whatever you say is going between you is not my business.”

“So all new girls are not so fond of you and your crooked friends, Commander Willet. Your majority seems to be shrinking rapidly. I doubt you have a super majority anymore. What a shame. Loosen Swfit Fox,” Red ordered, and Tarantula did so while Willet got taunted further. She also got Ocelot to comply, gaining the mercy that she was only gagged with her own socks. A new target got visible, her soles, which turned into the main attraction for Tara, Red Deer, Hedgehog, and the girl whose name Giselle still could not recall.

“Eh, thanks, guys,” Giselle said when she was set free. “See you later.”

“Please, stay, Swift Fox. You’re welcome.”

“Nah, I’m not that curious about torture,” she laughed off the absurd situation.

“Then do you mind exploring the forest instead to avoid suspicion anything here is going on?”

“Sure, whatever,” Giselle mumbled, walking away, trailed by Spider Octopus.
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Post by Ovi1 »

Nice continuation.

You made Giselle, and most of the other characters, a bunch more interesting by hinting at big things in their backstories. I'm curious how she will act now towards the people who just released her, of she can manage to maintain a friendship with them.

I still love reading this story
I believe you would be a lot more comfortable in ropes
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Post by slackywacky »

It is good to see new chapters. Yes, we miss the adventures of Giselle, but we will patiently wait for you to write the chapters. Real life often interferes with what we want to do.

But, whenever you write a chapter, it is enjoyable and fun to read. I wonder if I would have liked Spy Camp when I was younger...
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Post by Beaumains »

Ovi1 wrote: 11 months ago Nice continuation.

You made Giselle, and most of the other characters, a bunch more interesting by hinting at big things in their backstories. I'm curious how she will act now towards the people who just released her, of she can manage to maintain a friendship with them.

I still love reading this story
Yeah, maybe I should have done that earlier more explicitly. But well, Giselle is Giselle and she does not seem in the mood yet to make befriend these weird kids.
slackywacky wrote: 11 months ago It is good to see new chapters. Yes, we miss the adventures of Giselle, but we will patiently wait for you to write the chapters. Real life often interferes with what we want to do.

But, whenever you write a chapter, it is enjoyable and fun to read. I wonder if I would have liked Spy Camp when I was younger...
Yeah, I write slowly and I am also writing most of the day already for work. Then is creeping back behind a text editor not the most appealing thing to do in the evening and the weekends. Still, it is nice to have some sort of creative outlet.

Oh, I think that at any point in your life you would have enjoyed a place where you can tie up girls. I have no doubts about that ;)
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Post by GreyLord »

The ever fascinating Giselle isn't ready to mesh with her fellow campers. None the less, she is learning more and more about them. Excellent writing, [mention]Beaumains[/mention].
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Post by Caesar73 »

Giselle is obviously still unwilling to blend in with the crowd - it will be very interesting where this goes!
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Post by Trammel »

Great new chapter.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.

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Post by Beaumains »

Thanks a lot for all the kind comments! They are all very motivating!

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

Giselle sighed, holding the reins gently in her hands. Cornfields replaced the hilly forest, revealing a farm a thousand feet away. The day had been generous for Spy Camp’s standards, offering an hour-long sleep-in and a luxurious breakfast. Then, as most mornings, there had been a choice. Giselle had no interest in hurting her body on a mountain bike as all the boys did without a second thought. No, a calm morning of horseback riding was the sounder option, and most girls had made the same decision. Horseback riding could be turned into a wild-west kidnap simulator, being tied high on a horse, but it was worth the risk.

At the back of the pack, only in front of Dallas, Giselle had time to let her mind wander through the rolling hills, bogged forests, and fields of wildflowers full of bees and butterflies. Her horse, a black mare named Nightmare was anything but what her name suggested. She was gentle, easy, and above all, not too energetic like Honeybee’s brown buddy George. He always required to go fast and be in front, only to stop suddenly and block everyone. An annoying troll who frustrated the ever-calm Honeybee. Nah, Nightmare was fine for Giselle: She listened and was a hard worker. Having some experience with horses from years back, Giselle could ride on autopilot and enjoy the surroundings and lack of interaction with anyone else.

A picnic on meadows right from The Sound of Music had been marvelous, but seeing the stables approach had turned Giselle’s mood. Anything that would come up could not improve the current situation.

Towering from a shining brown horse, Spider Octopus turned her beaming head and winked at Giselle, which she returned. She did so with everyone, being by far the best rider, save maybe for the older woman who guided the group, who had not tried to show off. With a perfect pirouette, she rotated her horse behind and then next to Giselle.

“How ya doin’, Swift Fox? Tell me, whatta ya thinking about?” Eight beamed. This was her domain. “Mind sharing it with me?” she whispered, making sure Willet in front of her would not be listening in. She would not, being in a cheerful, bragging conversation with Tarantula. Even after last night, they laughed like good friends.

“Shame it’s almost over,” Giselle confided. “I liked this.”

“I agree. This is so much better than what the other losers are doing. I still can’t believe you got away again.”

Giselle laughed sheepishly, rehearing the story of the escape from Washington’s pits of hell. Red Deer had somehow tricked the counselors with a hairpin hidden in her hair and freed her friends in an underground dormitory cell. Bedtime had been eight, and everyone was locked and blindfolded in their bed. They had been treated like 16th-century political prisoners. Eight somehow adored the memory almost as much as she had cheated the system. Why would anyone want that? Harsh punishments seldom achieved anything, anywhere.

“No clue how I survived, but I can’t say I am unhappy with it.”

“Still being Miss Mysterious? You’re the proper spy here. No one knows who you are, while everyone knows my name already. Love the strat,” Eight continued. Her tone was playful, not judgmental but a little jealous.

“I don’t. Sorry, I barely watch movies or television.”

Eight smirked. “No, no, no problem at all. I noticed that already in the first mission. Of course, the rest here had heard about the youth sitcom where the pretty princess got kidnapped every episode. I’m happy there’s at least one person on which I had a chance to make a first impression.” She seemed genuinely delighted, but Giselle had changed her attitude about her: She was an actress. She should not take any of her words or emotions at face value. She could become anyone she wanted to be. “You still might dislike everything here, but I don’t dislike you. If you ever wanna talk, complain, or hug, pay me a visit. You’re always welcome.”

“Thank you,” Giselle smiled. An inner voice craved to believe Spider Octopus with her immaculate face and brown hair from a shampoo commercial. A cheeky smile hiding behind inquisitive eyes, probably smarter and slier than she presented herself, to gather as much information as possible and place herself in the best possible position. She should not be underestimated. Smoothly, she had sailed through everything so far, adding little value to the equation. Last night, she had proposed to ally with Honeybee and stay neutral in the conflict between the commanders and their opposition. Both sides needed their votes and could not harm them before they had chosen a side. Spider Octopus played politics. Keeping private about herself might be a decent trump card.

Eight took the reins and rode ahead of Giselle as they entered the farm’s grounds. Soon, Giselle had to dismount her friendly companion, clean and brush her, feed her a carrot or two, and then part for likely forever. As the black boots, tight riding pants, and red-yellow-checkered woodcutter’s shirt were the camp’s, Giselle just hopped in the minivan like anyone else for the 15-minute ride back to the office building. What a disappointment.

Dallas turned off the engine and spun around to the 8 girls in full rider gear. “The mountain bikers wanted to go for another lap, and we had not much more planned for the afternoon. You have to entertain each other until dinner. Will that be possible? If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Most girls in front of her nodded, so Giselle followed her example. She had seen hammocks in the storage rooms the other day, so grabbing one and taking a nap in the forest was an excellent way to spend the remainder of the afternoon. She trailed the rest towards the building to change back into the black sports gear. The sun was bright and the sky blue, and Giselle envisioned her well-deserved late siesta.

Willet turned around as they entered the building.

“So, we have been thinking,” she said with a smile that meant trouble. She pulled Tara towards her. “We are Tarantula and I. Some of you should have been tied, gagged, and doing something not as fulfilling as a day of horseback riding. And we got all our new girls gathered together. So let’s do some bonding together. Tara and I have our differences, but this seems a good opportunity to show it’s all a friendly disagreement. Nothing serious.”

Tara’s icy blue eyes twinkled. If both of them were happy, it had to be disastrous. “You have done two individual missions with mixed outcomes, but you’re still a bit new here, fresh and green, not truly part of the crew. So how about a little hazing? Nothing big, nothing too uncool. What do you reckon?”

“So… we get tied up?” Hedgehog asked. She was unconcerned, almost excited. Giselle guessed she wanted to be the center of attention for once, even at the cost of her freedom of choice.

“Naturally,” Willet smiled, folding her arms. “Did you expect anything else here? But don’t worry, we won’t do anything too strenuous, boring, or back-breaking. Just a little fun to get you out of your comfort zone.”

“Anyone here who’s not a coward?” Red asked. The question was rhetorical.

Giselle wanted to back out, but the peer pressure got to her. Honeybee leaned back, grinning while staring at the more senior girls as if she did not believe they could do her harm. As always, Eight appeared happy. She glanced at Giselle, nodding. Being prepared to suffer, Giselle accepted her fate. It had dawned on her she would be stuck here for a while.

“So, then close your eyes and accept this blindfold.”

“Shouldn’t we change first?” Eight queried.

“Nah, you will be fine,” Willet replied, tying a strip of black linen over the actress’ eyes.
Last edited by Beaumains 10 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by GreyLord »

[mention]Beaumains[/mention], you just keep producing this marvelous writing. May it long continue. And, thank you.
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Post by laz »

another great chapter
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Post by Caesar73 »

Just a little fun to get you out of your comfort zone.”
That sounds pretty harmless - but somehow I have the feeiling Giselle will not like what will happen. Those guys have a twisted definition of fun :)

It will be interesting to see, how and if Giselle changes her attitude to the Games played at the Spy Camp.
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Post by slackywacky »

Caesar73 wrote: 10 months ago Those guys have a twisted definition of fun :)
They might, but that makes this story so much fun. Not sure Giselle will ever change her attitude, which is fine by me. :D
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Post by Beaumains »

Again, thanks for all the comments! This next chapter is a little more experimental.

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19.

“Calm down, Swift Fox, take it easy,” Tarantula spoke softly. A leather sack closed around Giselle’s right hand. “It won’t hurt. You know you can trust me.”

Unintended, Giselle bobbed her head.

“Hey, you don’t trust me? Tell me, okay? You can speak freely. No one is near.”

Blindfolded, Giselle had no clue whether the blonde was lying or not. Hearing a padlock click around her wrist did not soothe her. Pressed against the thick stiff fabric, her right hand had been made useless in a straightened position. It felt like wearing two oven mitts simultaneously.

“Giving up control is always difficult, but sometimes that gives amazing results, like in a roller coaster or during a massage, for example.”

Giselle sighed. She had had such exchanges several times already in the past few days. “In a crashing airplane, you are also not in control.”

“And that’s where trust comes in. You need to believe your pilot is capable. Then it is the safest mode of transport. Let me try to help you: Do you entrust me with your safety?”

What a nonsensical question. Tara could not even look her in the eyes. Tara was a random teen who loved to tie people up, which in Giselle’s book did not echo trustworthiness. The padlock around Giselle’s left wrist was also locked in. Now she was a blind boxer dressed like a horse girl. “Not really.”

“Why? When I was tied here the first time, I was weary of strangers holding me captive. That’s reasonable. What do you question exactly? I can try taking that fear away. My expertise in bondage? My intentions? Whether I will release you when you use your safe signal? Whether I will hurt you?”

“None of those, really …” Giselle uttered. Tarantula was her age, but her tone was almost belittling. She has had this exact conversation before, convincing another anxious target into unbreakable ropes. Giselle hated this tone. It reminded her of authority figures, the principal, his assistant, and her psychologist. They belittled her as if she could not make her own choices in life. They did not listen, only advising her to accept the usual, boring career in the military, government, or multi-billion cooperation as the only adequate options. Be a mindless drone, do what we say, or else one fails. An unruly non-conforming kid is set up to fail. Tara talked to her in the same condensing tone, using cheap rhetorical tricks to convince her. For Giselle, it would only harden her opinion.

Tara cuffed her legs together loosely, and the stiff black leather of the knee-high riding boots hid the presence of the steel cuffs. “Then, at worst, you should be a little nervous about the novel and unexpected. I would embrace it and make the best out of it. Spread your legs please.”

Giselle obliged, and a wooden rod stuck through her legs. Her instincts instructed her to run far and fast, but she calmed herself, trying to place her faith in Tara. If she was stuck here all summer, she had to burn that bridge sooner or later. Acting like a coward would not make her any allies nor stop these events from occurring. If it went wrong, she might be able to leave.

With stiffer and thinner ropes than used previously, Tara fastened the rod to Giselle’s legs and belt, which carried most of the weight. “I will now gag you, okay? If you have any questions or doubts, this is your last moment to voice them.”

“I am good.”

“Great,” Tara voiced before unclipping the helmet from Giselle’s head. She opened her mouth, and a thick, solid rubber cylinder was placed between its corners, letting her teeth sink into it. It did not taste great. Only, it was not a cylinder. On the side inside of her mouth, a little lip pressed her tongue down.

“What the …” Giselle attempted to say, but only “Whhhhhpp ttuuuppffff,” came out.

Tara giggled. “At least it works.” She pulled four strips around Giselle’s head, one between her eyes, and secured them. It spread the tension, but Giselle reckoned this devilish item could not leave her mouth voluntarily. Then Tarantula fixed the riding helmet on the small girl’s head and brushed Giselle’s hair behind her ears, undoing the damage of the straps. Then she locked the glove-like things to a rope and helped her outside with her hand on Giselle’s shoulder.

“For your interest, you all look so cute,” Willet chirped. “Red, this was a genius idea. Time to remove the blindfolds. Ready?”

Giselle had craved to see the light again, but when the linen was removed, she would have begged to have never witnessed that fever-dream sight. First, the light blinded her, but when she stared forward, Hedgehog stood 30 feet farther, also confused. She still wore her riding outfit, including her helmet as well. She was gagged with a similar bit-gag strapped around her face connected to horse blinders, obstructing a large part of her field of view. Beneath, her hands were forced into the same black leather mittens, which were locked and connected to the leather reins of a stick horse. The 5-feet stick had a black tail and an equally black head, the size of Hedgehog’s own. Its reins were sown to its mouth and connected to the mittens.

Black panels at the side of her head also obstructed Giselle’s sight. She was unsurprised that her hands were still packaged tightly. Her horse was not black but white, with a fluffy horn sticking out of its head. A smiling unicorn carried itself between her legs.

This was bad. Not good and very bad. Giselle reddened in shame. What an utter humiliation. Red Deer smiled in the distance, standing next to a bound Spider Octopus on a hazel-brown adult-sized hobby horse. Giselle was stuck. She could not escape on her own. Well, not quickly. She could find a road and get help or hit the padlocks against a wall until they broke, but her legs were cuffed. The senior girls could stop her with ease as the two-feet-long chain prevented her from running fast. She had expected to be tied to a fence or chair for a few hours, but this was obviously worse. She could tap out, bob her head, and hope Tara would honor her promise, but that was weak. Giselle did not want to be the sole coward when the other three were in the same despicable position and carried on. This exact same psychology was abused in real hazings.

“You genuinely look fantastic. Come over here,” Willet chirped, and Giselle obeyed, shuffling towards the pack. Red Deer, Tarantula, Willet, and the girl Giselle now recalled to be called Lionfish stood proudly around the four tied girls. If the ground opened and swallowed Giselle, she would not complain. “You are playing a few quick games, depending on the time situation. The winner of a minigame gets five points, the second three, the third two, and the fourth one. We tally up the points, and the worst pony gets punished. Easy. But for me, you’re all winners already.”

Giselle cringed as they walked into the woods for more privacy, where Tarantula explained the first game. Of course, it was a contest that could move the prettiest. And Giselle had to start. Her minute started as the judges were ready, sitting on a boulder. Her competition was blindfolded once more to prevent them from copying her. The grass in the clearing would be her podium.

She raised her right knee, and Giselle threw her body up on the other leg, landing on it again, and leaned forward. She had not skipped since elementary school, never even thinking about it, and now she hoped to wing the movements. She landed on her left foot and did the same again, slowly, mindful that the chain around her ankles could cause a nasty fall. Where had her pride gone? With more confidence, she continued, making a round in the clearing. Then she slowed down and did the same slower, raising her knees higher and making a pirouette. She then returned to the faster pace and changed a few more times until the arduous long minute was over. She had tried controlling the stick horse, but with her hands bound, it had shaken back and down uncontrollably.

“Thanks, Swift Fox,” Willet beamed. She and the other ‘judges’ chuckled, entertained by the embarrassing madness. Giselle returned only to realize what she had done. She had been in a trance to ignore the outside world to escape the stupid punishment that would come after. Luckily, she was not blindfolded.

Eight, Spider Octopus, came next, and of course, she would do more than skip for a minute. She was a trained actress, after all. She had little shame performing weird tasks in front of people. Giselle recalled she had been in a children’s sitcom, so she was used to bizarre outfits and being the butt of the joke. Her job was to accept the same humiliation ten times and appear disgusted while a camera zoomed in on her face. Her routine was pure improvised comedy. She acted as if the stick horse had free will and did not respond to her commands and intentions, rearing and trying to throw its rider off. Despite the absurdness of the situation, Giselle enjoyed watching it. The chains and bonds disappeared from her mind. Eight effortlessly became one with the stick horse. Honeybee and Hedgehog did the same as Giselle, so it was clear who would get the first five points.

“That was cool! Fantastic! Very cool,” Tarantula announced as the four hazing victims got all blindfolded. The next game is pure trust. It’s a race. One of us will steer you in a direction while you dictate the pace. Fastest wins. We will now apply earplugs. Stay still.”
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Post by GreyLord »

My recall may be weak, but I don't remember a case where camp members showed they could not be trusted. Still, tied up, hobbled and blindfolded calls for a lot of trust before running. You are really building the tension, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. Good job.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Giselle´s feelings are understandable: She feels belittled by her handlers. Difficult situation. She is between an Anvil and Hammer. If she does chicken out she is screwed and if not she is screwed too.
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Post by Mineira1986 »

Ah, love the games. They've been a great aspect of many of your stories (Responsibility Day, Dressed at my best, The Tangled Maiden, to mention a few), and they are always fun.

Keep it coming.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Mineira1986 wrote: 10 months ago Keep it coming.
Amen to that!
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Post by Beaumains »

Thanks a lot for all the kind words!
Mineira1986 wrote: 10 months ago Ah, love the games. They've been a great aspect of many of your stories (Responsibility Day, Dressed at my best, The Tangled Maiden, to mention a few), and they are always fun.
Yeah, I like to come with these rules and their consequences, but I try to minimize them a lot nowadays as most other authors seem to avoid making things too specific. I am glad you enjoy them anyhow.
GreyLord wrote: 10 months ago My recall may be weak, but I don't remember a case where camp members showed they could not be trusted.
Sure, she was not kidnapped or miseled too often, but Giselle is mostly bitter about not knowing this was going before she went to this camp, Hedgehog betraying her during her initial tie up, and the events leading to her night as Willet's prisoner.

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“Eeehhhmmmoffff, Smmmmmmooooovvedd ppppfhhhhooooooooccccss,” Eight uttered for the nth time. Giselle did not understand her. The bit-gag pressed her tongue down, and inside the cramped wooden box, there was not enough light to read her face. “Mpppfff.”

They had lost both today. Eight and Giselle had tied for last place in points, according to Willet, so they both had to suffer the punishment. But, as the point distribution of most games was unknown, Giselle was unconvinced. She was not questioning her terrible scores. She could believe them, but a tie had been doubtful. Willet could have decided she wanted to lock two up and get away with it. All was fair in love, war, and hazings.

Giselle jerked her head to Eight, who still tried to capture her attention, this time by gently kicking her with her tied legs. Her left shoulder touched the chest’s lid, and her right the straw on the bottom. Her legs were bound too, not very tight, but at enough places with tight cinches to prevent them from moving independently. Still wearing the riding pants and boots, she felt filthy. She had sweated the entire day. Her hands were still jammed in the mitts that were secured to her upper legs. Giselle was unbothered by them. This was by far the least awful tie-up yet. She was not being watched, talked to, or humiliated on a hobby horse. The bar was low. After the acting and blindfolded race, they competed in a strength test (pulling a heavy sack), balance (stand one-legged on a little pole as long as possible), and reaction (they had to avoid dodge balls coming from every direction). The blinders had made the latter particularly annoying.

Eight had crept closer, and their noses touched. Giselle was dumbfounded. It took her two shrieks to follow Spider Octopus’s plan: With the hard pointy edge at the end of the bit-gag, she attempted undoing the slip that kept Giselle’s riding helmet in place. Well, they had nothing better to do than ease their time here together, so Giselle stopped complaining. After a few minutes of fruitless attempts, the actress had loosened the strap enough that she could pull it over Giselle’s chin. Then Giselle swayed her head, and the helmet fell off, bouncing against the side of the wooden chest. Tara, Red, Willet, and Lionfish, who were playing some bluffing game elsewhere in the room, stopped talking for a second. Repeated banging against the chest was the safe signal, but they continued when it was clear that it was a false alarm.

“Mmpppff,” Eight exclaimed, and as a command, Giselle turned around. Indeed, her gag was only fastened with a few straps at the back. No locks or knots. The bit had become rancid due to Eight’s saliva leaking onto it, and now she smeared it into Giselle’s hair. Even though it was disgusting, she did not mind. A warm shower had been a necessity anyhow after today. Her horse had licked her face, and she could still smell her. Then there was the problem with sweat. However, outsmarting these girls was worth some more discomfort.“Mrrrrppff,” Eight continued, frustrated. Some of the straps loosened slowly, but as they went all around Giselle’s head, all had to be removed before the rubber block could leave her mouth. She stretched her jaw, only now noticing how numb and painful it was.

“Mmff pppff,” Eight said, and Giselle spun around. Eight used her gag to press Giselle’s out of her mouth to make it flatten her nose. Two more pushes and it fell off.

“Thanks,” Giselle whispered. “I had not expected that was possible. Thanks again. Now you expect the same from me?”

“Plllleeethhh.”

“I am not that kind of person,” Giselle mumbled. With her teeth, she unlocked the riding helmet with a single bite and undid the other straps after Spider Octopus had spun around. The locking mechanism was simple, and pressing against them lowered the tension. Her hair smelled good. When she deemed she had made enough progress, Eight changed sides again and allowed Giselle to take the heinous device out of her mouth.

“That’s better.”

“Yeah.”

“Keep your voice down,” Eight whispered. Her mouth almost touched Giselle’s ear. “If they notice, they might put them back.”

“I think they already did. They were whispering themselves. As long they believe we have not noticed that they noticed, they might go easy on us. Else, we would have suffered their revenge already.”

It was a risky strategy based on nothing, but Eight accepted it. Then she stayed silent, which Giselle did not as they both lay on their back, staring into the black abyss half a foot above. Indeed, the sounds indicated the card game had the full attention of the other girls again.

“You’re quite chill, Swift Fox,” Eight observed a few minutes later. “That’s cool.”

“Whadda ya mean?”

“Not afraid, calm, not complaining.”

“This ain’t too dreadful.”

Eight chuckled softly. “You’re in a tiny dark box with me, the air smells of sweat and straw and is anything but fresh, your legs and arms are bound, used to be gagged, have no idea when you get out, … Should I go on?”

“It’s fine. Only the binds bother me, tho. And the fact I can’t leave.”

“Even I feel claustrophobic, you don’t? My heart is pumping.”

“Nope, I will fall asleep here,” Giselle yawned. “I feel sheltered here. Now no one is fucking with me and playing stupid mental games or patronizing me. I don’t mind the dark.” She was not lying. Darkness and solitude were better than bullies, a lot better.

“You’re strange. This is so much worse than the hobby horse tie. The wood is closing in.”

“Not for me. I take this any day of the week.”

“Done this before?”

“Not specifically,” Giselle sighed. “I always liked the tiny murky corners of the world. I slept in quite a few peculiar places over the years.”

“Like?” Eight jubilated.

Giselle sighed again and searched her brain for examples that would not reveal her identity. “A booth of a car that had not been opened in decades, the bottom of a dry wishing well, a dog crate at an abandoned rescue. You get the point.”

“That’s so cool. So you’re an urban explorer? I watch those videos all the time.”

“Yea, but not necessarily urban. Everything was fine with us.”

“Was?”

“I quit.”

“Group fell apart after high school, two years back.”

“But, you’re like 15, 16, or so. You’re one of these school speedrunners as well?”

“Nope. Ain’t have the brains or motivation for that shit. I was a youngster. They all fled town, leaving me behind.” Giselle left some details out that most of the rest continued the adventures further away, even in Europe and Asia. As was anticipated, the school-bound girl had remained stuck alone in the shitty city.

“I’m slightly jealous. I always loved watching the videos, so I hope you don’t mind bothering me asking you for stories…” the actress continued. Her voice had quickened but quieted when she recalled they were whispering. “Genuinely, you guys are the reason I’m here. I craved to go on adventures for years, but my schedule was too hectic, and I knew no one to join me. Oh, yeah, and this is why you are sweeping these missions.”

“All luck. I ain’t nothing special.”

“Don’t say that. I see you can plan and move flawlessly. Twice is not a coincidence. Now tell me a story. Distract me, please.”

Giselle remained silent. “You know, I am not supposed to reveal who I am. Telling you would do so.”

“So I can find you online? You’re famous too? Swift Fox, you better not stop talking. What did you do? A blog or video? You were the youngest in a group. Come on, everyone here knows who I am too.”

Giselle had half assumed Eight’s overjoyed reaction was played up, like on late-night television. It seemed genuine. “I still don’t know your name. Don’t care. As I said, it was years ago, and I can’t say it. I have nothing to do with that life anymore.”

“I still don’t recognize you. Help me, please, Swift Fox. I’m begging you. Like, give me a hint, which group had a young girl with them?” Eight murmured, mostly to herself. “Wait? WeWentThere? They wore face masks until last year, and there was a young girl… That was you? What’s her name again? Yeah, they did that wishing well video. They are fantastic, quite among the best. Therefore, you are... What's her name again? Gigi?”

“Fuck,” Giselle said, hearing her old nickname again.
Last edited by Beaumains 9 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Fascinating chapter: Giselle and Octopus in the box. They help each other and they communicate with each other. And the finish is quite intriguing! Very well written as always!
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Post by GreyLord »

Possibly the most interesting chapter so far, [mention]Beaumains[/mention]. Fascinating to read. Well done.
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Post by slackywacky »

I wonder where this will lead. Will Giselle's history surface? Very nice chapter.
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