Wedding Day at the Sjaastad's! (FF/FFF)

[AlexUSA3]

Muses 3: Wedding Day at the Sjaastad's! (FF/FFF)

March 11, 2024

“Nichole, I have a multi-faceted music job for you, if you're able to take it on short notice,” the voice on the other end says.
“When are you looking for a piano player? Will there be one?” I reasonably ask.
“Definitely. I just need you and my sister,” she is calm about it.
“And what is the piece?”
“Chopin Cello Sonata in G Minor. You’ve delivered much harder. Three weeks from now. Sorry for the short notice.”
“Just one?” I am surprised, “Are you… getting married already?”
“What makes you say that?” she gulps despite most likely being home alone.
“Ah ha! You're eloping and planning a little soirée at home afterwards! I’ll be there. I love you Sjaastads! I’ll take a discount as long as there are TUGs without any dirty laundry involved and you pay for my train ticket.”

It was a true joy playing at the respective weddings of my friend Joy and Bridget, pun intended. I know it sounds funny, but I had hoped to continue to do this for more of the delightful siblings. All four had been raised to appreciate music of the kind that I played, but only the youngest had grown to play an instrument. My talents were truly appreciated by them even if I wasn't an epic piano player, but Kristina was an epic at the cello.

With resolve, I set to work mastering the difficult piano part on short notice.

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April 6, 2024

Complications arose, though.

For an elopement, fewer is better. I know, since I eloped and helped a friend to elope. Erin didn't want a party, and she knew a quiet marriage via elopement was the better solution to get her wish. She wanted me, her three siblings, and Joy there. Joy and I had been the only ones informed, and I arrived under the guise of a vacation and only worked on the music when Mike, Erin’s brother and Joy’s husband, wasn't home. As far as Kristina was concerned, I was just here to enjoy a few days and to enjoy a little party with some wonderful people.

I kept it natural the day of what was presented as a private concert given by me for the siblings and their spouses. Johnny, Erin’s fiancée, was also there. I can't resist being me, but it's a concert. That's why I had a black knee skirt, a black long-sleeve blouse with a V neck, and a black kerchief bandana. Hard to find me without a bandana on my head; I get teased among my friends, family, and colleagues alike for it. I also had black pantyhose, black panties, a black bra, and black 2 inch heels.

Erin was pushing 34 now, by far the eldest of the three sisters with Bridget at 28 and baby sister Kristina at 20. Bridget had been married for over 3 years, and Joy and Mike had been married for almost 3 years and had a child already. Heck, I’d just celebrated my own seventh wedding anniversary. After waiting so long and without pushing anything to make it happen, Erin felt more than entitled to finally push, and Joy and I were supporting her in any way we could.

“She’s your friend and sister-in-law, Joy; how do you feel about this?” I ask while at the piano.
“Blindly supporting her. I’ve known John since I moved here because he’s friends with Mike.”
“I am too. She’s a quiet girl; she doesn’t want the hoopla of a wedding,” I remain stoic.
“Yeah, but Bridge’s gonna freak. She’s been texting Erin almost daily about wedding planning.”
“Johnny knows about TUGs, right?” a plan forms in my mind, “We’ll take care of the Bridge.”
“We’ll tie her up and stuff her in the closet, right?” Joy smiles and giggles.
“And as part of payment for our service, you’re going to tie up me and Kristina, right?”

With regards to clothing, Kristina was “in” with me. She had black high heels and pantyhose as I had requested of her, but her skirt was an ankle skirt, her shirt was a black long-sleeve button-up, and her bandana was patternless and worn as a headband. Nevertheless, the girl Joy let into the house was a joyful one. I had a job to do.

“Kristina, please, sit down; I have to tell you something important related to this party.”
“All right,” she gently put down her prize-winning cello.
“Tonight is more than an ordinary party,” I was direct and honest, “Erin and Johnny are going to get hitched afterwards.”
“Really?!” I have never seen such happiness in a person before, “This is so awesome! YAY!”
“You’re not upset?” I had to be certain.
“Of course not! I want Erin and Johnny to be happy! If this is what makes them happy, I’ll be happy too!”

I guess I should explain the Sjaastad girls to you in terms of appearance. Each sister had the same straight platinum blonde hair, and all had it down to at least six inches past her shoulder, which is the length of Bridget's and Kristina’s hair. Erin’s was a little longer. And I may be wrong about the length because they were all of different heights, with Bridget being my size. OK, Bridget’s hair is that length, Kristina’s is proportional, and Erin’s is a little longer. Erin is two inches taller than my 5’4”, and Kristina is five taller than me.

Bridget has the stereotypical Scandinavian proportionality and thickness of bone. She could wear the stereotypical Viking helmet and play Norse goddess without causing a single eyebrow to raise. For being so strong and athletic, Bridget is cursed with poor vision and blessed the most beautiful smile of her siblings even if she mostly smirks.

“I wish you'd visit me for once,” I say while hugging Bridget tightly.
“Why? Are ropes more comfortable on your side of the Mississippi?” she teases me.
“No! But Minneapolis is fun, too!”
“OK, OK, you ask every month. Yes, I will visit you this summer.”
“How do we look?” Kristina asked.
“Gorgeous. And me?”

Of course Bridget was beautiful. She was asked to dress beautifully, and she never failed to fulfill that kind of request. Her skirt was a bright blue and flowed down to her calves, and with it she wore a black long-sleeve t-shirt. Being a Sjaastad, with it she wore cowboy boots and white knee socks.

Kristina, the tall sister, had something special about her. No, I don't mean the braces that were set to come off in the next week. I mean the brown streak of hair that exited the nape of her neck and couldn't be missed when she had her hair up in any way. Her frame was strong like Bridget's and extremely flexible unlike Bridget's, but she more naturally accumulated muscle. Her eyes are the same brilliant blue, but hers sparkle with vitality more than Bridget's.

“There's the sweetest one,” I greet Erin.
“Me? Oh, I don't know about that! I think that's Kristina,” she blushes.
“Listen. Take a seat; have a bite to eat; enjoy the show,” I wink at her.
“Make yourself at home; we’re not being stuffy here,” Joy motions to the furniture.
“All right, all right,” Erin dusts off herself and takes a seat.
“Let's warm up,” I motion to Kristina.

Erin looks like herself with nothing suspicious about her appearance. She’s wearing a ruffled beige skirt that comes down to her ankles, a brown long-sleeve t-shirt, and her trademark sage green kerchief bandana. Her feet are shod with brown socks and beige flat shoes. Her eyes are always the most alive of her sisters, and tonight they glow in a special manner.

Lest I forget, the Joy of my life had a similarly frumpy style. Her shirt was brown as well, likely in coordination with Erin, but her skirt was a pale pink with her bandana being a kerchief with flowers in various pinks. Her crew cut socks were of a similar shade of pink as her skirt, and since she was home she had nothing else on her feet. My friend was the same height as me, but she was 15 pounds heavier. She always has a stately demeanor that controls a room.

Without further ado, Kristina and I began our little concert. Eighty-eights; ivories; black-and-whites; whatever the name, they're flying underneath my fingers. Chopin is putty in the paws of me and Kristina.

My curly hair flies about me, but my bandana keeps it out of my face so I can play in peace. Joyce peacefully stands beside me the entire time to flip the pages as I need. I kind of zone out and get lost because of the artist beside me. The sound of the cello is enrapturing my soul, and I realize that we have a special chemistry that brings out the best in each other.

Kristina is no ordinary cello player. She is currently studying at the local University of Wisconsin campus on a full music scholarship and plays concerts all over her home city and its surrounding areas. The sky's the limit for her, and I have seen firsthand a distinct happiness that exists only when she's playing for her family. A loud applause awaits us despite the small crowd when the piece of music concludes. Kristina and I take the usual bows.

“Now, tonight's program includes two more events,” I continue to emcee it, “Has two more events. Later, Kristina and I will play a piece she wrote herself just for tonight, but first we have a brief pause for something very special.”
“Care to tell us what that is?” Joy looks surprised by what I’ve said.
“Well, in 15 minutes, the minister should be here, and we'll have a little wedding.”
“What?!” Bridget jumps up right on cue, “No f-cking way!” she turns to Erin, “How the hell can you do this? To me? To Dad? Your friends? Our grandparents? What's wrong with you?!”
“Johnny and I don't want the buzz,” Erin stands up, “But I wanted you to be a part of it because I adore you.”
“I’m not going to allow this to happen!” Bridget stomps a foot without flinching.
“You have no choice; either you sit down and give me that happiness of having you as one of the legal witnesses to my marriage, or Nichole and Kristina have agreed to take you out if necessary. Now, are they tying you up now so the wedding can happen, or are they tying you up as part of the festivities that follow?”
“What would Mom say?” Bridget clenches her fists and starts crying.
“I think she’d say, ‘Bridgie, do it because it will make your sister happier than having a big hullabaloo,’” Kristina drops the truth bomb.

Bridget turned to her baby sister and felt the comforting hand of Joy on her back. I could see the conflict happening in Bridget's eyes; without any resistance, Joy led her into the kitchen. I understood Bridget had her ideals and her ethics; they all did. The guest list to Bridget's own wedding was relatively small compared to many people's.

Erin isn't upset at all; everyone expected this. Even Johnny expected it. Bridget had a bit of a reputation for being a “my way or the highway” type of person, but never had I seen her let it bring her to tears. After being so patient, Erin deserved to have this be done in the way she wanted; heck, maybe she just wanted to get to the dirty stuff more quickly. I cannot relate because my elopement was mostly to help me escape a blood family that literally sought my life. I walk into the kitchen along with my assistant.

“What’ll it be for you? The gagging or the wedding?” I ask.
Bridget sniffed, “I just need some time alone, if you girls please.”
“No problem,” I respond, “Just remember that you're being asked to do this because you are Erin’s favorite.”
“No, no, no,” she stares at her keys on the rack, “I think I should leave.”
“Bridgie, no!” Kristina gets in the way of her sister, “Don't be so stubborn!”
“I’m not going to sit here and let our father get dishonored in this way.”
“Maybe this was originally Dad’s suggestion,” Erin drops the second truth bomb.
“LIAR!” Bridget is losing her temper, and I shudder.
“It's kidnapping time!” I act on instinct, “Get her, Kristie!”
“Roger that!” the biggest youngest sister grabs her angry sister from in front.
“Let me go!” Bridget snarls while I handcuff her hands behind her back.

I am saddened by Bridget's noncompliance; Erin is deeply hurt; Kristina is devastated though. Her hero from childhood is acting to ruin their big sister’s day. I really never expected to need to use the nuclear option, and Kristina keeps their sister hand gagged for the moment.

Joy circles Bridget like the headmistress of legend. She is the most terrifying woman in a bondage game despite her simple, frumpy, pious, modest dress. Just because she is a woman of prayer doesn't change that she is a nasty tormentor in a bondage game. She contemplates her sister-in-law while Bridget keeps trying to shake off Kristina.

It's time for serious business. I have my bag at the ready, and a nice bright blue rubber ball, complemented by a brown bandana, makes a nice gag for Bridget. I grab a rope to bind Bridget more effectively even though I explicitly trust my handcuffs. An arm grabs me as if this is not my battle to fight, and I see Joy looking at me with concern.

“Hold off,” my dominant friend says, “I have something that will hold her down for real.”

I shrug and look at Kristina who is deeply hurt and nonplussed by her sister’s actions. Erin, on the other hand, seems to have expected it and rolls her eyes. Joy returns with handcuffs that are much better than mine: rigid cuffs. She takes the handcuffs off and puts the rigid cuffs in their place instead. An assertive Joy puts my handcuffs on Bridget’s ankles instead. There was no escape for our friend.

“Bridge,” Joy appeals to the soft side of her friend, “This is my house; my rules are supreme here. You can cooperate and just sit there quietly and watch Erin and Johnny say their vows and put your John Hancock on things and let this be a funny blip on the radar for us to laugh about for years to come, or I can take you down in the basement, tie you up naked, and set you up in a torture so extreme that just hearing my name will make your blood congeal until 2037. What's more important? Your fragile ego, or the big sister who has genuinely suffered for you?”
“Mmmmm!” Bridget squirms while Joy forces her to sit down.
“You have a choice, Bridge,” Joy continues, “You can make Erin happy and humble yourself and accept that she wants a small party just with the people she loves enough to sacrifice herself that they live, or you can make this the day that forever fractured things between Erin and her favorite sibling.”
“No! Ah huth han- her ho ha-e a -eal -eddinh!” our friend insists.
“You don’t get to decide for her!” Joy stamps her foot, “Just like we didn’t choose for you.”
“Watch it,” Kristina cautions us all, “I know this is upsetting, but she’s still our sister.”
“Think about it.”

Joy zips Bridget’s wrists to the back of the chair and then zips her ankles to the leg. Bridget had plenty of time to think about it, and we all walked out of the kitchen after Joy gave Bridget a kiss on the forehead. Joy had a strange maternal love for all of her friends and family that couldn't be expressed in words; she doted on us with cakes and cookies while she also gave us spanks and punishment as needed.

Erin nervously adjusts her kerchief, looks at Joy, and turns to Bridget. She repeats the cycle multiple times with variations, but I could see that she is not hurt by her sister's actions. Disappointment is apparent, and a light bulb goes off in her head. Taking me by the hand, Erin leads me back to Bridget.

“Ungag her,” Erin instructs and stands before her sister.
“OK,” I do it while the others watch.
“Bridge, sweetie, do you remember telling me about your pre-marital affairs with your husband?” Erin asks.
“Yes,” Bridget nods because she couldn't forget that day.
“Well, after Mom died, you don't know this, but I struggled with alcoholism for two years before getting myself sober. It was another 5 years before I could drink even a little wine again.”
“Erin? You? No!” a tear forms in her eyes, “You poor thing! I would have helped!”
“Help me now, instead. There's a man out there who loves me and will protect me in any way he can, including from my tendencies for vices.”
“OK, Erin. You're right,” Bridget is looking down and crying, “It worked for Nichole. May God bless you two.”
“Thank you, Bridget,” Erin kisses her sister on the head, “Untie her.”
“Erin, let's face it. Sexual sins are my vice just like booze is yours and mom’s.”
“Were, dear. Mom lost her life to hers, but right now we're ahead. Let's stay ahead.”

Erin's admission shocks everyone except Kristina, who was apparently privy to this bit of knowledge. It's hard to imagine any of the Sjaastad girls having a vice that is so strong, but then again alcohol ended their mother's life. I remember Joy being such a good friend to Bridget during the first semester after their mother died; Bridget never knew just how much more her big sister suffered from that, nor did Joy and I.

Bridget stands up, and I uncuff her wrists with a promise that they will return if she starts up again. The conflicted young woman looks up at her big sister with tears continuing to roll down her cheeks. Erin simply smiles, and Kristina walks over and kisses Erin right on the big flower in the center of the sage bandana’s western paisley pattern. The three sisters hug after taking a good 20 minutes to achieve unison.

“May we do this?” I ask as the emcee of the evening gone awry.
“Yes, Nichole,” Erin smiles, “Thank you so much for being here tonight.”
“Now, I present Rev. Geoffry Edmunds, who will officiate the wedding of Jonathan Henderson and Erin Sjaastad.”
“I do,” Erin says, and then a few moments later she kisses a man who wasn't a blood relation for the first time in her 34 years on earth.
“Congratulations!” us among the cheers heard.
“Now,” I say after the minister has left, “Our final concert piece. Kristina Sjaastad and I present ‘Lover’s Waltz,’ written by Kristina in about two hours after I told her why this party was happening.”

I play this one by eye as it is brand new. I pour my heart into the music like I have never done before. There is something in how I play the introductory piano solo, and when Kristina joins me there is an electricity that can be felt by all. We seamlessly merge our respective parts, and Kristina plays a fading trill before I ascend the keys and come crashing down into the cheerful, playful, and undanceable waltz.

Even if it is not a true dance, Erin and Johnny still stand up and pretend to be trying to dance a little bit with it before she simply swishes her skirt in rhythm with us. It is so clear from the piece just how happy Kristina is for her sister, and I realize that I have been blessed not only to witness but all to assist in such an incomparable act of love. Kristina, despite the years between her and Erin, has a meaningful relationship with her oldest sister. With a flourish, the piece finishes, our audience cheers, and I give Kristina a hug and congratulate her on her creation.

“Thank you so much! Would you two like to collect the payment I promised?” Erin asks with a mischievous grin.
“Colored stuff, please,” I say with a wink, “No browns, greys, or blacks.”
“I have some comfy white for just this kind of job,” Erin walks to a bag in the corner.
“What payment is this?” Kristina asked me while watching her eldest sibling.
“Kidnapping payment! We're getting tied up!” I laugh and am even a little bouncy.
“Awwww… Mrs. Henderson, I’m touched,” my colleague curtsied adorably.

Me with my black knee skirt, a V neck blouse, hose, heels, and kerchief; Kristina with her black ankle skirt, button-up, hose, heels and headband. White rope could not be a better match! Kristina and I are glad to receive this kind of payment for our massive contributions to the night.

Part of the fun is identical bondage. Our forearms are crossed at the halfway point and tightly lashed together, complete with being worked into a waist rope too. Since our elbows cannot be tied, our harnesses are tied with cinching between our arms and trunks and with cinching between our arms but behind our backs. For gags, we each get a blue rubber ball threaded with a purple bandana, I can tell I have a two inch, and Kristina likely has a two and a half inch gag.

Our legs are a little different just because Kristina is taller. I get three ropes on each leg part; Kristina gets four. Our heels come off, and a little white string is forced over the hose to tie our big toes. It's perfect though!

Hogties are a great idea. We groan and resist while it's being done, but in reality we cannot stop them from doing it to us. Erin also has a sneaky idea to prevent us from helping each other; after we're hogtied and on our stomachs, she lays us together in a straight line and ties our knees together.

Red bandanas blindfold us to make things more difficult; I can tell from the humming that this is an escape challenge. It's appropriate. We helped Erin escape, now we have to help ourselves to escape. Using medical bandages to wrap a heel to our faces isn't a very nice thing, but it's so much fun. The smell is clearly Kristina's toe cheese; she is likely smelling my toe cheese then.

It had been one interesting evening to say the least, and the girl in the infamous sage bandana is kindly smiling at us. We have been the highlight of her evening, her special day, her quiet little moment in the tiniest of spotlights. Unlike most Cool Girls, this is sufficient for Erin to enjoy a moment with me and her sister. I just know she’s smiling even though I cannot see it

When I first played for the family at Joy’s wedding in 2020, I never imagined that I’d be friends with Erin. She was quiet and somewhat a sad girl, apparently coming off an addiction to alcohol that flared at times when she was feeling lonely such as at her younger brother’s wedding. There was something about her, though, that encouraged me to make a special effort to talk to her, and boy was I not disappointed! What a deep girl who was full of self-doubt despite her confidence in making the right decision by moving back in with her father and sister. Rewards awaited her.

Being just a train ride (or 4 hours by car) from Madison made it easy to visit them since visiting Joy required visiting the other Sjaastad relations since somebody is always around Joy’s house besides her, Mike, and baby Beth. Erin had adopted a lot of Joy’s modesty of spirit in an effort to curb her passions, and it appeared to me that this, her wedding day, was her reward as she had found her patiently, prayerfully sought husband in a man who truly appreciated her.

“Would you girls enjoy a chance to escape, to be the entertainment before Johnny and I go off to our secret destination for a week?”
“Mmmmm,” I nod with confidence.
“You’ve been delightful all night; you’ve been delightful as long as I’ve known either of you!”
“Hank ou,” Kristina kindly responded to the detachment of our knees.
“Awwww,” I cannot tell if Kristina is being adorable or truly grateful.
“Girls, thanks for making me happy on my wedding. I know I’ll be listening to this rendition of that piece a lot during the honeymoon and will likely never listen to any other.”

Too bad there was a red bandana over my eyes because that was so sweet of her to say. It wasn’t the first time she’d spoken highly of my playing, but that was the sweetest compliment I’d ever received from a Sjaastad concerning my piano playing. I was used to cameras being on me from playing in the college ensembles, but to be told my playing was a treasure was incomparable.

Despite the seeming severity, Kristina and I had a natural friendship of our own that Joy told me was a miracle in the world of the Sjaastad’s. I had earned the youngest sibling’s trust in a single concert while Joy had struggled until long after she was married. We didn’t talk too much even over text, but when we did communicate it was usually meaningful especially since Kristina was now a traveling cello prodigy and a student of music at the local state university campus. It is a casual escape in progress, but it is one arising from teamwork that makes things much easier.

“Would either of you enjoy a little spanking, or are you here just to enjoy the thrill of escape?” Joy asked us in her own kind way.
“Where’s Bridget?” Erin asks the hostess.
“Somewhere safe,” Joy responds nonchalantly.
“You are so modest but such a deviant as well,” it is fun hearing Erin chide her family.
“Nothing dirty happened. She’s just packed away for the moment.”
“Heh heh,” I knew Joy’s lingo and laugh as I sit up thanks to Kristina’s help.
“I think they’re just basking in their friendship.”
“Well, regardless, we still have to have dessert,” I can tell by the tone they arehugging.
“Joy, you’ve been a blessing, and thank you for bringing your friend into our family too.”
“There’s only one Nichole, and too many of us love her,” Joy says with a laugh.

I could picture Joy. She had ended the embrace and flipped her hair back to be behind her shoulders because she was sitting on the arm of the sofa while Erin was sitting on the cushion like people are supposed to sit. Leaning over Erin like that resulted in Joy’s hair flopping over from gravity.

Now Kristina is out of her hogtie, and she remains lying on the floor while I unknot both the gag and the blindfold in my own blindness. Then we trade positions while she unknots both my gag and my blindfold using her sight. Then we are sitting up, looking at each other, and smiling at each other before turning and smiling at Erin and Joy too.

“No spanking needed today,” I say to them, “Just two cute musicians in trouble after a concert.”
“I guess I’ll get Bridget,” Joy smiles in betrayal that she has done something silly.
“Go get her,” Erin motions to her.
“I will; I will,” she gets up and gracefully strides away.
“If I were into girls,” Kristina cackles, “She has presence!”
“She sure does. That’s why I admire her,” Erin smiles at her sister, “She’s a true lady even if she has a greasy man’s job. Even at work, she’s a lady.”
“Yeah,” I looked at Erin, “She even turned you into a gangsta.”
“You were a Gangsta Queen first, so I’m just your gangsta grandchild.”

Kristina was kindly pulling at my wrist and waist ropes while Erin and I talked. I patiently let her do her duty while Joy casually strides into the room with a suitcase rolling behind her. The suitcase is shaking and making gag talk sounds, and I merely look at it in passing before turning to focus on Kristina. I know Bridget is in there, and I think Joy knows that Kristina and I would like to be the ones to open the suitcase and expose her.

With my wrists free, it is easy for me to untie Kristina’s wrists and elbows even though the elbow and chest combination is quite restrictive. It’s not terrible for me, though, and I get the majority of the needed work done, and Kristina sits back up and easily removes the rest of her harness. I can now smile in appreciation of our victory by teamwork. She then frees my arms from their restrictions, and we quickly work to untie our legs. I am faster from more successful escapes over my years in the game.

“Let's open her,” I say and gently lay the suitcase down on its side.
“I’ve got it,” Kristina unzips the talking, moving suitcase, “Bridgie!”
“Mmmmmm!” the middle Sjaastad sister looks back at us.

Bridget is zipped at just her wrists and ankles. A blue rubber ball also gags her just like we were gagged. It's a basic affair, and I do not know how Joy so quietly bound and gagged Bridget and stuffed her in this suitcase. She is extraordinary when she is in control, and often the mental aspect with her is more restrictive than the physical.

“All right, sis, time to get untied. Dessert is waiting on us,” Kristina helps Bridget.
“What did you make?” I ask my hostess.
“Oh, just a little something,” Joy brushes that off.
“If she made what Johnny and I requested, it's a white cake with strawberry jam filling!” Erin says to annoy Joy.
“When you get back from your honeymoon!” Joy waves a wooden spoon.
“This has been a good day!” Bridget says now that she can talk, “I’m sorry for being a pain before, but look how wonderful it still turned out!

It is a day all of us will remember forever, but especially Erin Sjaastad!

THE END

[Caesar73]

A very touching tale!

[hafnermg]

Lovely Wedding tale! Gets you right in the heart.