But since we can only choose one? I go for hose. Nice chapter [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] !The Visitor (F+/F+) - Appendix 1B (Story Complete)
My first choice would be a combination of both: Hose and Ropes But since we can only choose one? I go for hose. Nice chapter [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] !
But since we can only choose one? I go for hose. Nice chapter [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention] !
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 229
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
I'm in a Sadistic mood I'd like to vote for Zipties. Lots and lots of zip ties 
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
[mention]Gaggedcowgirl[/mention] [mention]Caesar73[/mention] [mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention] [mention]Lucky Lottie[/mention] [mention]Mineira1986[/mention] [mention]Windrunner[/mention] [mention]GermanTUGFriend[/mention] [mention]Canuck100[/mention] [mention]hafnermg[/mention] [mention]lauragagged[/mention] [mention]Dreamerforever2004[/mention] [mention]Shotrow[/mention]
There were only three votes in this story, but two of those were cast in favor of pantyhose!
Chapter 06
BRIDGET
When I came home from my shift, Mrs. Fredericks was poking about the kitchen like a ninja. I quietly shut the door behind me because I could tell one of the girls was in the bathroom and the other was asleep. The ninja motioned for me to come over.
As it turned out, she had three things to ask me. First, she asked me to help her make breakfast because I knew the kitchen unlike her. Second, she asked if I wanted to be part of the hostage bargaining today, to which I heartily agreed like a fool. Third, she asked if I wanted to tie up Joy for the hostage situation as long as I did what she wished; again, I heartily agreed.
Even if circumstances made it so that it was Zoe playing the game today, I was going to gladly truss up Joy after last night.
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JOY
I woke up to the smell of something scrumptious: blueberry pancakes. Either my mother is trying to fatten me up for Thanksgiving, or she loves me so much more than I could ever imagine. It doesn’t matter; it got me out of bed!
If I was going to be Mom’s hostage that day, then I wanted to be wearing a brown. I thought my browns looked best with rope. For that, I chose my beige denim skirt and a matching beige bandana headband to match; a brown t-shirt made sure I color coordinated. To my surprise, I got out of my room while Zoe was still in the shower!
I don’t remember the exact order of events, but I remember inhaling several pancakes, getting threatened by Bridget, and promising my mother I’d be home by 2PM. When Zoe appeared, I immediately began imagining how I’d tie her up after she lost the game. Her blue jeans and black t-shirt gave me too many ideas.
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ZOE
I wasn’t expecting blueberry pancakes at all. After Mom made blondies last night, I should have expected her to take Joy’s side on the next baked good, though. How much affection can a mother give to her children? The answer is “never enough.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but feel that Joy was sizing me up for the scenario in which I lost the challenge laid out for me. I was trying not to think about such things because I feared I would fail in spectacular fashion. Joy thrived under pressure; I choked. Where I could be dependable in a pinch was programming.
I watched Bridget eat a fifth pancake and couldn’t believe she was going to consume so much sugary and grainy food and then go right to sleep. She said nothing while we ate; conversation was restricted to us Fredericks ladies. Something was running through her mind, but nobody can read her body language and know exactly what besides general moods and such.
“That was delicious! Mrs. Fredericks, thank you very, very much!” Bridget stood up and brought her plate to the kitchen.
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BRIDGET
“Bridget, Bridget, wake up!” Mrs. Fredericks shook me.
“Huh? What’s wrong?” I groggily spoke in a catatonic state.
“Joy should be home soon.”
Joy being home soon meant that it was time for me to spring into action. When I sat up, naturally, the bedding slid off me to reveal my underwear. Yes, I was going to repeat what I had done yesterday, and I was risking paying the same prices. I took the risk in the hope of revenge.
“Here,” she put a shopping bag down on the ground by my feet. Inside the bag were packs of pantyhose… plenty of pantyhose for me to tie up the poor unsuspecting girl. I smiled at her and knew what I was going to do to my roommate, and she even provided pairs of single leg hose for me to weaponize.
I emptied four packs of the brown nylons in anticipation of Joy’s arrival. Carrying the bag out to the living room, I took my station on the back side of the door and waited. Only after I heard the sound of Joy’s car door shutting did Mrs. Fredericks issue her threat to me.
“Whatever you do to Joy, I’ll do to you with other things.”
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JOY
After a horrible day at work, I was glad to come home early. One of the girls in my suite overheard me talking to my mother one day and now constantly calls me “Babushka” with an absolutely scathing (thank you, Zoe, for the word help!) tone. At work, the nickname is a source of torment, while at home it’s a source of comfort.
I was looking forward to playing with Mom and maybe Bridget and finding out what kind of trap had been set for me. Today, I climbed the stairs with a sense of relief coming over me. I opened the door, stepped in, put my backpack on the ground, and shut the door.
“How’s my daughter?” my mother greeted me with a huge smile.
“I’m doomph!” I felt the awful strength of Bridget Sjaastad crushing me in her arms.
“Let’s be nice, Joy,” I heard a playful tone in her voice and relaxed a great deal, “No whining.”
I kept my mouth shut and let Bridget secure my crossed wrists behind me with… pantyhose?! Not wanting to push Bridget to doing something worse than she planned, nothing more was said by either of us while Mom watched with great satisfaction. Bridget tied my elbows as best she could and also tied the hose above and below my boobs. A pair at my waist put a limit on my arm movement.
The rower made me sit on the floor and tied my ankles, knees, and thighs with more nylon. Never before had I been bound with these, but clearly she had experience with this material and in a very big way. Even after four years of friendship, Bridget Sjaastad still could surprise with something you didn’t know about her.
“What on earth?!” I yelped when a single piece of it was firmly pulled over my head.
“Gag time!” Bridget explained.
One pair of hose went into my mouth while I helplessly looked at my mother through the strange brown film over my face. A second pair was jammed into my mouth, and a clean pair of panties followed that. My mouth felt absolutely enormous, and my mother calmly handed a black bandana to Bridget who then promptly cleave gagged me with it. A red bandana followed for a blindfold. I was forced onto the floor and put into a tight typical hogtie using another pair.
“UH!” I started leaching my saliva into the dry fabrics.
This was an absolutely embarrassing way to be tied.
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BRIDGET
A deal’s a deal, and I had no idea how Mrs. Fredericks was going to tie me up after witnessing that. We both, however, studied the captive with great curiosity and watched her reaction to her new home for the next several hours. I was shocked by what next came out of her mouth.
“I once did this to my cousin Darlene,” she seemed to forget anyone else was there, “and she was the spitting image of Joy at the same age. We were college roommates then along with my sister.”
“Huh? Mrs. Fredericks?” I didn’t know if she meant to say this in front of me.
“She then vowed, ‘Susan, I’ll get you for this,’ and did to me and my sister Melissa what I am going to do to you.”
Mom Fredericks then reached into her bag of tricks and calmly turned me around; I instinctively crossed my wrists together behind my back and felt a piece of fabric wrap around several times until I felt her tie a double-knot. She didn’t bother with my elbows and instead focused on tying fabric above and below my boobs and at my waist.
Like Joy, I was seated on the floor, but Miss Susan, as I was now inclined to call her, bound my ankles, knees, and thighs in similar fashion. She also boldly tied my upper thighs and smiled with confidence at what she was doing. I felt as safe and comfortable with her in control as I did with Joy or Zoe.
She was ready because I recognized the thin pillowcase as one Joy had used in games before. She pulled that over my head, and it did have enough holes that I could still make out Joy and her mother through it but just barely. Some socks were stuffed in my mouth: one, two, three, four. I wouldn’t know whose socks they were or their level of filth until something hit my taste buds. I naturally didn’t know the colors of the cloths used to cleave gag and blindfold me, but a guess based on size told me they were handkerchiefs. After this, I was laid on my stomach, and fabric put me into a secure ankles-to-wrists hogtie.
I knew that it could only get more humiliating. Joy and I both groaned into our respective gags, and within 5 minutes I realized she had taken Joy’s socks off her feet and stuffed those and the girl’s socks from yesterday in my mouth. She had four pairs of brand new pantyhose, and I had two pairs of her dirty laundry.
Oh, don’t kid yourselves. You know I was in hog heaven.
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ZOE
I had just finished my afternoon break and cracked open a bottle of vending machine lemonade when I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was the text I had looked forward to getting all day long.
Your sister and your friend have been captured. Do as I bid, or I will make them suffer. The clock will work against you. came with several photos of Joy and Bridget bound and gagged.
What did Mom have in mind for me? The stakes were suddenly very different for me now that I was in Joy’s shoes.
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Zoe is getting take-out cheeseburgers for supper. Which item does she forget?
(A) Joy's drink
(B) Mom's burger
(C) Bridget's French Fries
There were only three votes in this story, but two of those were cast in favor of pantyhose!
Chapter 06
BRIDGET
When I came home from my shift, Mrs. Fredericks was poking about the kitchen like a ninja. I quietly shut the door behind me because I could tell one of the girls was in the bathroom and the other was asleep. The ninja motioned for me to come over.
As it turned out, she had three things to ask me. First, she asked me to help her make breakfast because I knew the kitchen unlike her. Second, she asked if I wanted to be part of the hostage bargaining today, to which I heartily agreed like a fool. Third, she asked if I wanted to tie up Joy for the hostage situation as long as I did what she wished; again, I heartily agreed.
Even if circumstances made it so that it was Zoe playing the game today, I was going to gladly truss up Joy after last night.
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JOY
I woke up to the smell of something scrumptious: blueberry pancakes. Either my mother is trying to fatten me up for Thanksgiving, or she loves me so much more than I could ever imagine. It doesn’t matter; it got me out of bed!
If I was going to be Mom’s hostage that day, then I wanted to be wearing a brown. I thought my browns looked best with rope. For that, I chose my beige denim skirt and a matching beige bandana headband to match; a brown t-shirt made sure I color coordinated. To my surprise, I got out of my room while Zoe was still in the shower!
I don’t remember the exact order of events, but I remember inhaling several pancakes, getting threatened by Bridget, and promising my mother I’d be home by 2PM. When Zoe appeared, I immediately began imagining how I’d tie her up after she lost the game. Her blue jeans and black t-shirt gave me too many ideas.
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ZOE
I wasn’t expecting blueberry pancakes at all. After Mom made blondies last night, I should have expected her to take Joy’s side on the next baked good, though. How much affection can a mother give to her children? The answer is “never enough.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but feel that Joy was sizing me up for the scenario in which I lost the challenge laid out for me. I was trying not to think about such things because I feared I would fail in spectacular fashion. Joy thrived under pressure; I choked. Where I could be dependable in a pinch was programming.
I watched Bridget eat a fifth pancake and couldn’t believe she was going to consume so much sugary and grainy food and then go right to sleep. She said nothing while we ate; conversation was restricted to us Fredericks ladies. Something was running through her mind, but nobody can read her body language and know exactly what besides general moods and such.
“That was delicious! Mrs. Fredericks, thank you very, very much!” Bridget stood up and brought her plate to the kitchen.
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BRIDGET
“Bridget, Bridget, wake up!” Mrs. Fredericks shook me.
“Huh? What’s wrong?” I groggily spoke in a catatonic state.
“Joy should be home soon.”
Joy being home soon meant that it was time for me to spring into action. When I sat up, naturally, the bedding slid off me to reveal my underwear. Yes, I was going to repeat what I had done yesterday, and I was risking paying the same prices. I took the risk in the hope of revenge.
“Here,” she put a shopping bag down on the ground by my feet. Inside the bag were packs of pantyhose… plenty of pantyhose for me to tie up the poor unsuspecting girl. I smiled at her and knew what I was going to do to my roommate, and she even provided pairs of single leg hose for me to weaponize.
I emptied four packs of the brown nylons in anticipation of Joy’s arrival. Carrying the bag out to the living room, I took my station on the back side of the door and waited. Only after I heard the sound of Joy’s car door shutting did Mrs. Fredericks issue her threat to me.
“Whatever you do to Joy, I’ll do to you with other things.”
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JOY
After a horrible day at work, I was glad to come home early. One of the girls in my suite overheard me talking to my mother one day and now constantly calls me “Babushka” with an absolutely scathing (thank you, Zoe, for the word help!) tone. At work, the nickname is a source of torment, while at home it’s a source of comfort.
I was looking forward to playing with Mom and maybe Bridget and finding out what kind of trap had been set for me. Today, I climbed the stairs with a sense of relief coming over me. I opened the door, stepped in, put my backpack on the ground, and shut the door.
“How’s my daughter?” my mother greeted me with a huge smile.
“I’m doomph!” I felt the awful strength of Bridget Sjaastad crushing me in her arms.
“Let’s be nice, Joy,” I heard a playful tone in her voice and relaxed a great deal, “No whining.”
I kept my mouth shut and let Bridget secure my crossed wrists behind me with… pantyhose?! Not wanting to push Bridget to doing something worse than she planned, nothing more was said by either of us while Mom watched with great satisfaction. Bridget tied my elbows as best she could and also tied the hose above and below my boobs. A pair at my waist put a limit on my arm movement.
The rower made me sit on the floor and tied my ankles, knees, and thighs with more nylon. Never before had I been bound with these, but clearly she had experience with this material and in a very big way. Even after four years of friendship, Bridget Sjaastad still could surprise with something you didn’t know about her.
“What on earth?!” I yelped when a single piece of it was firmly pulled over my head.
“Gag time!” Bridget explained.
One pair of hose went into my mouth while I helplessly looked at my mother through the strange brown film over my face. A second pair was jammed into my mouth, and a clean pair of panties followed that. My mouth felt absolutely enormous, and my mother calmly handed a black bandana to Bridget who then promptly cleave gagged me with it. A red bandana followed for a blindfold. I was forced onto the floor and put into a tight typical hogtie using another pair.
“UH!” I started leaching my saliva into the dry fabrics.
This was an absolutely embarrassing way to be tied.
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BRIDGET
A deal’s a deal, and I had no idea how Mrs. Fredericks was going to tie me up after witnessing that. We both, however, studied the captive with great curiosity and watched her reaction to her new home for the next several hours. I was shocked by what next came out of her mouth.
“I once did this to my cousin Darlene,” she seemed to forget anyone else was there, “and she was the spitting image of Joy at the same age. We were college roommates then along with my sister.”
“Huh? Mrs. Fredericks?” I didn’t know if she meant to say this in front of me.
“She then vowed, ‘Susan, I’ll get you for this,’ and did to me and my sister Melissa what I am going to do to you.”
Mom Fredericks then reached into her bag of tricks and calmly turned me around; I instinctively crossed my wrists together behind my back and felt a piece of fabric wrap around several times until I felt her tie a double-knot. She didn’t bother with my elbows and instead focused on tying fabric above and below my boobs and at my waist.
Like Joy, I was seated on the floor, but Miss Susan, as I was now inclined to call her, bound my ankles, knees, and thighs in similar fashion. She also boldly tied my upper thighs and smiled with confidence at what she was doing. I felt as safe and comfortable with her in control as I did with Joy or Zoe.
She was ready because I recognized the thin pillowcase as one Joy had used in games before. She pulled that over my head, and it did have enough holes that I could still make out Joy and her mother through it but just barely. Some socks were stuffed in my mouth: one, two, three, four. I wouldn’t know whose socks they were or their level of filth until something hit my taste buds. I naturally didn’t know the colors of the cloths used to cleave gag and blindfold me, but a guess based on size told me they were handkerchiefs. After this, I was laid on my stomach, and fabric put me into a secure ankles-to-wrists hogtie.
I knew that it could only get more humiliating. Joy and I both groaned into our respective gags, and within 5 minutes I realized she had taken Joy’s socks off her feet and stuffed those and the girl’s socks from yesterday in my mouth. She had four pairs of brand new pantyhose, and I had two pairs of her dirty laundry.
Oh, don’t kid yourselves. You know I was in hog heaven.
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ZOE
I had just finished my afternoon break and cracked open a bottle of vending machine lemonade when I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was the text I had looked forward to getting all day long.
Your sister and your friend have been captured. Do as I bid, or I will make them suffer. The clock will work against you. came with several photos of Joy and Bridget bound and gagged.
What did Mom have in mind for me? The stakes were suddenly very different for me now that I was in Joy’s shoes.
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Zoe is getting take-out cheeseburgers for supper. Which item does she forget?
(A) Joy's drink
(B) Mom's burger
(C) Bridget's French Fries
Last edited by AlexUSA3 10 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 229
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
B: mum's burger. It'll be more interesting to give her extra reason to go harder on her.
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-
beeblebrox883
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 197
- Joined: 6 years ago
Love the dirty sock gags
Keep up the great work
Keep up the great work
-
Dreamerforever2004
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 39
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Italy
- Contact:
Mom's burger
I would like to know more about her young time games
I would like to know more about her young time games
-
Dreamerforever2004
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 39
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Italy
- Contact:
Mom's burger
I would like to know more about her young time games
I would like to know more about her young time games
Mouth washing machines are always great! Keep up the good work!
-
Alisonlovesropes
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 521
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: UK
B
Sometimes gagged, sometimes blindfold. Always barefoot.
-
Windrunner
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 130
- Joined: 5 years ago
I'd vote for Joy's drink, which would make a good reason for her to end up gagged with Joy's panties
@Gaggedcowgirl @Caesar73 @Alisonlovesropes @Lucky Lottie @Mineira1986 @Windrunner @GermanTUGFriend @Canuck100 @hafnermg @lauragagged @Dreamerforever2004 @Shotrow @beeblebrox883
The votes were cast and appropriately affected the chapter. This chapter features two questions at the end of it.
Chapter 07
ZOE
I laughed when I saw Joy and Bridget. For Bridget’s part, I can’t believe she so willingly gave consent to potentially be my rope slave in the event I won. Then again, she was always up to play a game especially when the stakes were high. That stung a little; she was confident that I was going to lose.
How adorable they both were, though… Adorably humiliated! Joy looked awful with the hose pulled over her head and so much stuffed in her mouth. The way her nose was mashed down was the perfect summary of her imprisonment. I wanted to reach into the phone and cuddle her tightly and give her a kiss on the cheek.
My sweet precious little sister… what happened to her until I got back was indirectly my fault now.
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BRIDGET
The pillowcase was a source of minor discomfort; the taste of multiple pairs of Joy’s socks was a source of major discomfort. It was humiliating, even, just the way I liked things to be. What was uncomfortable was the fabric. It had little give, much like tape, but it was rough like rope. While it seemed more escape friendly, Miss Susan was checking the knots too often for me to ever stand a chance of getting out.
Miss Susan was really a sweetheart just like Joy; they were so much alike it was cute even. To make it cuter Joy seemed completely oblivious and felt like she couldn’t hold a torch to her mother, but in reality she loved in a very similar fashion. Zoe seemed aware of the similarities between both herself and Joy and between themselves and their mother; of course Miss Susan noticed these things because she was a psychology major who even professionally used her degree! The time passed by her telling us stories…
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JOY
“HUH?!” I exclaimed into my gag.
Mom and Aunt Melissa and Cousin Darlene were all roommates in college; nothing was new there. Aunt Melissa buying bondage magazines because they played TUGs even then and there was very new to me. Every time Mom revealed something new about her childhood TUGs, the “end date” of her games came closer and closer to my lifetime.
First it was “childhood games with all of her siblings and cousins.” Then it was “well, us girls kept playing into high school.” Now it was “we played in college and even used 1980s bondage p-rn rags for inspiration.” I supposed next she was going to admit they had ball gags and bondage rope and…
Then it hit me. Mom didn’t keep these fabric scraps around in hopes her daughters would play someday. She kept them because she was still playing with Aunt Melissa… Maybe even cousin Darlene and/or her daughters played these games and even played with Mom. There was even Darlene’s younger sister…
“Since you young ladies are a bit helpless, I will help myself,” she began pulling on my shirt.
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ZOE
Honey, would you stop at Wendy’s for supper tonight?
Joy and I didn’t have time to go shopping today, came around 4:30.
Attached was a photo in which Joy and Bridget now both had binder clips on their nipples. I could tell the bandanas that cleave gagged each girl were starting to soak through, and it was obvious the captivity was strenuous because Bridget’s skin was a bright red in places and glistening with wetness. I felt a little bit of pain for them, but it didn’t last long.
Try to get home by 5:30.
Starting at 5:00, I will spank them once per minute.
Every 5 minutes, I will add another spank per minute.
At 5:15, I will add foot writing and what your sister calls “nipple cripples.”
Text me when you get to the restaurant.
It would take me at least 30 minutes to get to Wendy’s, get the food, and get home. I was working up a very strong dose of vengeance in the scenario that I failed. Needless to say, I clock-watched until my shift was finished and quickly gathered my things.
“Zoe, I got a quick question for you,” the voice of a colleague interrupted me literally 3 steps from being home free.
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JOY
Bound and gagged? Cool.
Embarrassed and looking foolish because pantyhose was used on me? Cool.
Binder clips on my boobs? Not surprising after yesterday.
Spanking? Surprising only with how bold she was in doing it to Bridge and me.
Nipple cripples and foot writing? So shocking I could hardly expect it.
It started with the clips. Oh. My. God. Did Mom make them hurt like hell! Even while hogtied, they stayed on tightly, and of course they were getting twisted just by me being on my front. Every time I rolled on my side, my mother rolled me back onto my stomach! I never knew that my mother could be so sadistic!
“Oh, my, girls, 5:15, and Zoe hasn’t even texted yet,” my mother rolled us each onto our sides.
TWIST!!
“YEOW!” came from me.
“OUCH!” came from Bridget.
Oh, those God damned nipple cripples! They were so much worse than the spanking or tickling!
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ZOE
I’m here. I sent to my mother around 5:19.
Tsk tsk. Here’s what we want. Call me when you’re in the car.
My mother then sent a chicken scratch list of items to order along with a picture of my sister’s feet with the first scribbles written on them. Everyone wanted something different, and at least two of the items required I ask for things to be removed. I had to keep all this straight and also get my own order in there.
I started panicking knowing that my sister and roommate were getting scribbled upon and having the searing pain of nipple cripples go through their bodies. Mom had messed with me perfectly. It took every fiber of my being working in unison to keep myself from yelling at other patrons or at the staff, but I did tap my feet at one point.
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BRIDGET
Storytime was just fine. Getting nipple cripples was awful. Joy was chill with the foot writing, but it made me crazy. What was going on my soles and toes this time? Was it all silliness, subliminal messages, or specific taunts? The pain in my mind outweighed the pain in my boobs.
We were slowly getting spanked more and frequently and, in Joy’s case, more firmly. Miss Susan knew how to perfectly crank on the binder clips, and each time she pushed us back onto our bellies for the writing and spanking she made sure to mash our breasts into the dining room floor for a brutal torque.
More and more writing was going on our feet, and I cackled into Joy’s horrid socks with each cackle. There was nothing I could do except suffer, and Miss Susan was one of the most sadistic girls I had ever had the pleasure of suffering under. She was even meaner than Joy, and Joy could enjoy giving a real rough beating without any guilt. I hoped that Zoe would foul things up in some way.
“All right girls, Zoe’s calling me,” Miss Susan rolled us back onto our sides.
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ZOE
I carefully carried the food and drinks back to the car. I had never asked for so many individual items in a single order in my life and prayed I had gotten them all right. Once I was in the car, I locked the doors and began dialing my mother while feeling like I could at least calm down.
“Hi, Mom! I'm in the car!” I spoke first when she answered.
“You’d better get home soon, dear,” Mom answered me.
SMACK! SMACK!
“Mmmmm!”
“They seem to be suffering a bit,” I knew Mom attacked their boobs.
“YEOW!”
“GUH HUH HUH HUUUUHHHHHH!”
“The clock keeps ticking,” Mom warned me and hung up the receiver.
You try driving home while knowing that's happening and that it's all your fault in a way. I couldn't imagine how many times they had been attacked in such manners in the past 43 minutes. Part of me felt guilt for Bridget’s sake, but part of me enjoyed the knowledge of my little sister's torment. Was it because of last night or because I am a big sister?
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JOY
I couldn't wait to see what Mom had doodled on my feet and let out howls and cackles into my many layers of hose while she was writing upon them. It was much better than the spanks, which I wasn't too fond of, or the nipple cripples, which were both like heaven and hell. The heavenly part was the inability to stop the suffering; the hellish part was the pain of the suffering. After 3+ hours, nearly 4, I was done though and breathed a sigh of relief when Zoe entered the apartment. Bridget later told me she counted exactly 98 spanks, 19 foot writings, and 12 nipple cripples over those 43 minutes, not counting torques when Mom pushed our boobs into the floor. At least most of the spanks were light.
First thing Zoe did was come over to me and begin cutting the hose off me because the knots couldn't be undone. In one of the greatest acts of stupidity of my life, I smiled at her as soon as I was able, and she sat with me on her lap and kissed me on the cheek before completely freeing me. At the same time, Mom freed Bridget; the first thing Bridget did was look at her feet.
“Helpless. Rower. Friend. Laundry washer. Naughty girl.”
I was red with some broken blood vessels in my nipples, and my butt was sore from the extended slow beating. Bridget once again changed into her rowing “uniform” and afterwards we compared and agreed that her butt was worse but my breasts were worse. When I finally looked, I found similar messages on my feet with “Momma's baby girl 4ever” being among the messages. Mom had done all the torture already, and with good cause.
“Zoe, where's my burger?” Mom suddenly asked.
“Wait? What?! I got that didn't I?!” the color drained from Zoe’s face.
“It's not on the receipt,” I taunted after checking.
“Ha! Joy! Our pain is rewarded!” Bridget’s childlike enthusiasm sprang forth.
“Give me your burger,” Mom calmly ordered Zoe.
“I’ll go and get you…”
“GIVE ME YOUR BURGER. Joy, handcuff your sister,” she motioned to the rigid cuffs in their box on the shelf.
Zoe’s punishment was already underway.
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Which gag will the girls use on Zoe?
(A) Zoe’s ball gag
(B) A homemade ball gag
(C) Joy’s ball gag
(D) Zoe’s head harness ball gag
Which method of foot tickling with dominate that portion of Zoe’s torture?
(A) Foot writing
(B) Hair brush
(C) Finger nails
The votes were cast and appropriately affected the chapter. This chapter features two questions at the end of it.
Chapter 07
ZOE
I laughed when I saw Joy and Bridget. For Bridget’s part, I can’t believe she so willingly gave consent to potentially be my rope slave in the event I won. Then again, she was always up to play a game especially when the stakes were high. That stung a little; she was confident that I was going to lose.
How adorable they both were, though… Adorably humiliated! Joy looked awful with the hose pulled over her head and so much stuffed in her mouth. The way her nose was mashed down was the perfect summary of her imprisonment. I wanted to reach into the phone and cuddle her tightly and give her a kiss on the cheek.
My sweet precious little sister… what happened to her until I got back was indirectly my fault now.
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BRIDGET
The pillowcase was a source of minor discomfort; the taste of multiple pairs of Joy’s socks was a source of major discomfort. It was humiliating, even, just the way I liked things to be. What was uncomfortable was the fabric. It had little give, much like tape, but it was rough like rope. While it seemed more escape friendly, Miss Susan was checking the knots too often for me to ever stand a chance of getting out.
Miss Susan was really a sweetheart just like Joy; they were so much alike it was cute even. To make it cuter Joy seemed completely oblivious and felt like she couldn’t hold a torch to her mother, but in reality she loved in a very similar fashion. Zoe seemed aware of the similarities between both herself and Joy and between themselves and their mother; of course Miss Susan noticed these things because she was a psychology major who even professionally used her degree! The time passed by her telling us stories…
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JOY
“HUH?!” I exclaimed into my gag.
Mom and Aunt Melissa and Cousin Darlene were all roommates in college; nothing was new there. Aunt Melissa buying bondage magazines because they played TUGs even then and there was very new to me. Every time Mom revealed something new about her childhood TUGs, the “end date” of her games came closer and closer to my lifetime.
First it was “childhood games with all of her siblings and cousins.” Then it was “well, us girls kept playing into high school.” Now it was “we played in college and even used 1980s bondage p-rn rags for inspiration.” I supposed next she was going to admit they had ball gags and bondage rope and…
Then it hit me. Mom didn’t keep these fabric scraps around in hopes her daughters would play someday. She kept them because she was still playing with Aunt Melissa… Maybe even cousin Darlene and/or her daughters played these games and even played with Mom. There was even Darlene’s younger sister…
“Since you young ladies are a bit helpless, I will help myself,” she began pulling on my shirt.
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ZOE
Honey, would you stop at Wendy’s for supper tonight?
Joy and I didn’t have time to go shopping today, came around 4:30.
Attached was a photo in which Joy and Bridget now both had binder clips on their nipples. I could tell the bandanas that cleave gagged each girl were starting to soak through, and it was obvious the captivity was strenuous because Bridget’s skin was a bright red in places and glistening with wetness. I felt a little bit of pain for them, but it didn’t last long.
Try to get home by 5:30.
Starting at 5:00, I will spank them once per minute.
Every 5 minutes, I will add another spank per minute.
At 5:15, I will add foot writing and what your sister calls “nipple cripples.”
Text me when you get to the restaurant.
It would take me at least 30 minutes to get to Wendy’s, get the food, and get home. I was working up a very strong dose of vengeance in the scenario that I failed. Needless to say, I clock-watched until my shift was finished and quickly gathered my things.
“Zoe, I got a quick question for you,” the voice of a colleague interrupted me literally 3 steps from being home free.
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JOY
Bound and gagged? Cool.
Embarrassed and looking foolish because pantyhose was used on me? Cool.
Binder clips on my boobs? Not surprising after yesterday.
Spanking? Surprising only with how bold she was in doing it to Bridge and me.
Nipple cripples and foot writing? So shocking I could hardly expect it.
It started with the clips. Oh. My. God. Did Mom make them hurt like hell! Even while hogtied, they stayed on tightly, and of course they were getting twisted just by me being on my front. Every time I rolled on my side, my mother rolled me back onto my stomach! I never knew that my mother could be so sadistic!
“Oh, my, girls, 5:15, and Zoe hasn’t even texted yet,” my mother rolled us each onto our sides.
TWIST!!
“YEOW!” came from me.
“OUCH!” came from Bridget.
Oh, those God damned nipple cripples! They were so much worse than the spanking or tickling!
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ZOE
I’m here. I sent to my mother around 5:19.
Tsk tsk. Here’s what we want. Call me when you’re in the car.
My mother then sent a chicken scratch list of items to order along with a picture of my sister’s feet with the first scribbles written on them. Everyone wanted something different, and at least two of the items required I ask for things to be removed. I had to keep all this straight and also get my own order in there.
I started panicking knowing that my sister and roommate were getting scribbled upon and having the searing pain of nipple cripples go through their bodies. Mom had messed with me perfectly. It took every fiber of my being working in unison to keep myself from yelling at other patrons or at the staff, but I did tap my feet at one point.
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BRIDGET
Storytime was just fine. Getting nipple cripples was awful. Joy was chill with the foot writing, but it made me crazy. What was going on my soles and toes this time? Was it all silliness, subliminal messages, or specific taunts? The pain in my mind outweighed the pain in my boobs.
We were slowly getting spanked more and frequently and, in Joy’s case, more firmly. Miss Susan knew how to perfectly crank on the binder clips, and each time she pushed us back onto our bellies for the writing and spanking she made sure to mash our breasts into the dining room floor for a brutal torque.
More and more writing was going on our feet, and I cackled into Joy’s horrid socks with each cackle. There was nothing I could do except suffer, and Miss Susan was one of the most sadistic girls I had ever had the pleasure of suffering under. She was even meaner than Joy, and Joy could enjoy giving a real rough beating without any guilt. I hoped that Zoe would foul things up in some way.
“All right girls, Zoe’s calling me,” Miss Susan rolled us back onto our sides.
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ZOE
I carefully carried the food and drinks back to the car. I had never asked for so many individual items in a single order in my life and prayed I had gotten them all right. Once I was in the car, I locked the doors and began dialing my mother while feeling like I could at least calm down.
“Hi, Mom! I'm in the car!” I spoke first when she answered.
“You’d better get home soon, dear,” Mom answered me.
SMACK! SMACK!
“Mmmmm!”
“They seem to be suffering a bit,” I knew Mom attacked their boobs.
“YEOW!”
“GUH HUH HUH HUUUUHHHHHH!”
“The clock keeps ticking,” Mom warned me and hung up the receiver.
You try driving home while knowing that's happening and that it's all your fault in a way. I couldn't imagine how many times they had been attacked in such manners in the past 43 minutes. Part of me felt guilt for Bridget’s sake, but part of me enjoyed the knowledge of my little sister's torment. Was it because of last night or because I am a big sister?
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JOY
I couldn't wait to see what Mom had doodled on my feet and let out howls and cackles into my many layers of hose while she was writing upon them. It was much better than the spanks, which I wasn't too fond of, or the nipple cripples, which were both like heaven and hell. The heavenly part was the inability to stop the suffering; the hellish part was the pain of the suffering. After 3+ hours, nearly 4, I was done though and breathed a sigh of relief when Zoe entered the apartment. Bridget later told me she counted exactly 98 spanks, 19 foot writings, and 12 nipple cripples over those 43 minutes, not counting torques when Mom pushed our boobs into the floor. At least most of the spanks were light.
First thing Zoe did was come over to me and begin cutting the hose off me because the knots couldn't be undone. In one of the greatest acts of stupidity of my life, I smiled at her as soon as I was able, and she sat with me on her lap and kissed me on the cheek before completely freeing me. At the same time, Mom freed Bridget; the first thing Bridget did was look at her feet.
“Helpless. Rower. Friend. Laundry washer. Naughty girl.”
I was red with some broken blood vessels in my nipples, and my butt was sore from the extended slow beating. Bridget once again changed into her rowing “uniform” and afterwards we compared and agreed that her butt was worse but my breasts were worse. When I finally looked, I found similar messages on my feet with “Momma's baby girl 4ever” being among the messages. Mom had done all the torture already, and with good cause.
“Zoe, where's my burger?” Mom suddenly asked.
“Wait? What?! I got that didn't I?!” the color drained from Zoe’s face.
“It's not on the receipt,” I taunted after checking.
“Ha! Joy! Our pain is rewarded!” Bridget’s childlike enthusiasm sprang forth.
“Give me your burger,” Mom calmly ordered Zoe.
“I’ll go and get you…”
“GIVE ME YOUR BURGER. Joy, handcuff your sister,” she motioned to the rigid cuffs in their box on the shelf.
Zoe’s punishment was already underway.
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Which gag will the girls use on Zoe?
(A) Zoe’s ball gag
(B) A homemade ball gag
(C) Joy’s ball gag
(D) Zoe’s head harness ball gag
Which method of foot tickling with dominate that portion of Zoe’s torture?
(A) Foot writing
(B) Hair brush
(C) Finger nails
Last edited by AlexUSA3 8 months ago, edited 2 times in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
I vote B and B!
-
Bondageboi
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 188
- Joined: 1 year ago
- Location: England
B home made
A writing
A writing
-
Alisonlovesropes
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 521
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: UK
D and A please
Sometimes gagged, sometimes blindfold. Always barefoot.
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 229
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
D and A too please
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
[mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention] [mention]Lucky Lottie[/mention] [mention]Windrunner[/mention] [mention]hafnermg[/mention] [mention]Dreamerforever2004[/mention] [mention]beeblebrox883[/mention] [mention]TklToy[/mention] [mention]Bondageboi[/mention]
Chapter 08
ZOE
I couldn’t believe my ears, but it was really happening. Joy took out her rigid cuffs, her Irish-8 handcuffs, and cuffed my wrists together behind my back. At Mom’s command, I was forced to sit there and watch as Mom took my burger and ate it. Not only that, but I had to sit and watch all three of them eat their dinner until it was all gone: burger, fries, and drink.
“Aw, is Zoe enjoying herself?” Bridget taunted me and jammed a finger into my rib cage.
“Should have read the receipt before coming home,” Joy added to things.
My stomach growled quite loudly while I sat there in rueful silence because I hadn’t eaten during my afternoon break. French fries and a soft drink were my supper tonight. I was going to have to get myself something else, and it felt humiliating to watch my own mother eating the food she stole from me, her own daughter. I felt like a hostage, really. After they were finished, the handcuffs were removed from my wrists so that I could eat my fries in peace. When I tried to enter the kitchen, however, Mom stopped me, and I could tell this was a test.
“I guess now we see what Joy and Bridget have planned for you,” she blocked the kitchen.
“Yes, and I’m starting by making a quick dinner for my big sister,” Joy saw my sadness, “It’s no fun if she has an empty stomach.”
“That’s the response I expected from you,” Mom knew her daughters too, too well.
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JOY
Note: Zoe is no longer proofreading my portions of the story
After Zoe had eaten, I was finally ready to play with her although my mind wanted to unlock even more secrets of my mother’s life. Each revelation brought her own TUGs closer and closer to her life after marriage, and I wanted to know more about these fascinating games she had. I could tell Bridge was also dying to know but didn't want to ask either especially after an afternoon in which Mom proved to be a more serious and more dastardly captor than any of the rest of us.
“Was that story you told earlier about you, Aunt Melissa, and Cousin Darlene true?”
I plunged headlong into investigating the alibi.
“Would I lie to my own children?”
Mom seemed surprised I would question her truthfulness.
“Given our own adventures, the plausibility of veracity…”
Bridge started.
“Oh, stop being a scientist.”
I laughed at her in an I-am-teasing-you way..
A curious smile came over Zoe’s face. She was still feeling the love of my cooking, but she also wanted to know more about whatever we were discussing. I explained to her as much as Mom had told us, and her eyes grew wide with a mixture of surprise and understanding as it seemed as though she, too, suspected these things.
At this point, I decided to “leave well enough alone” and walked over to Bridge for a private conference where we discussed plans for the captive and what we were going to do before Bridge went to her bedroom for one part of the plan and I went to mine for the other part. It was time to bring torture and Joy to my sister’s night in the form of TUGs. After all, I am the pride and Joyof her life.
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BRIDGET
Joy and I hadn’t yet agreed on what to do with Zoe once she was tied up, but we had agreed on how to tie and gag her. It seemed a simple affair, really, for the tie up part, but the game would eventually prove to be a difficult debate. I grabbed my TUG bag and returned to the living room where Joy and Zoe were sitting and talking like the sisters they were; my colleague had the sinister head harness gag in her hand.
“OK, I’m ready for whatever you two want to do to me,” Zoe had no anxiety whatsoever.
“Then lie down on the floor with your hands behind your back,” I pointed toward the carpet.
I’m a huge fan of zip ties and cable ties and love getting roughed up and roughing up others in TUG adventures. I also had those zip cuffs like the police sometimes use on people; those are awesome when you want to get the jump on someone. Tonight, I stuck to the regular cable ties, and Joy graciously let me have all the fun in zipping up her idol.
I kept it simple by tying up Zoe because I knew she couldn’t escape too easily. I zipped her wrists and elbows behind her back and then zipped her ankles and thighs. These were wide translucent cable ties. We removed her socks and shoes, and I would swear that Miss Susan kept the socks for her own nefarious purposes at a later time even though she claimed to be headed to the clothes hamper. A little zip tie kept her big toes together.
At the same time, Joy decided to begin with the head harness gag just to humiliate her sister a little bit. Before putting the gag in place, she put her sister’s hair into a neat ponytail using a green scrunchie. I was amazed by the love with which Joy could do such things; my siblings and I, even when the moment was warm and fuzzy, were rough and tumble and just took down each other without qualms. Joy’s movements were calm and smooth despite how quickly she actually performed the task.
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ZOE
I posed and acted like a damsel-in-distress while Joy took pictures and photographs. Since Joy and Bridget couldn’t agree on which method to use when they finally tickled my feet, they decided to let the Cool Girls’ Club vote and decide from several choices that included foot writing and the hair brush… I love and hate the hair brush! In Joy’s hands, a hair brush is the most awful thing your feet have ever experienced.
In the meanwhile, they did agree on one thing: everything else. Bridget sat me on her lap and pulled my shirt up, and Joy unclipped my bra to ready me for that inevitable part of my torment. Only now did one of the pieces of plastic wrap around my torso, right below my breasts and around my arms.
“Over the course of one hour,” Joy stood up and began circling me like an eagle readying to dive, “Bridget and I experienced how many of each torture?”
“98 spanks, 19 foot writings, and 12 nipple cripples, and it was 43 minutes,” Bridget reiterated the counts for me.
“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Joy teased Bridget about the latter’s love of old Star Trek: TOS reruns and then crouched down in front of my face, “So, think you can handle it?”
“NO!” I grimaced and started squirming while Bridget held me tightly.
That was the cruelest interpretation of “an eye for an eye” I had ever heard of in TUGs.
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JOY
“We haven’t even started and already got 6 votes agreeing with you on foot writing,” I shared the results with a proud Bridge and again got in Zoe’s face, “19 times, Zo’. 19 times.”
I put my phone in my skirt’s right pocket and took a pair of binder clips out of the left pocket and dangled them in front of Zoe’s eyes to taunt her and to announce what was coming to her next in a very, very cruel manner. I grabbed even boob and squished each part of her poor self in one of the painful pieces and aluminum and didn’t even feel any pangs of guilt when she let out a loud grunt of pain in order to announce her physical displeasure despite the obvious psychological pleasure. A reassuring smile helped her calm down after that; she knew how much I adored her; she also knew the pain of revenge when Bridge rolled her onto her stomach and mashed her boobs into the carpet.
“Shall we alternate?”
Bridge asked me with a hopeful smile.
“I should go first because she’s my sister.”
I declared, and Mom immediately saw a crestfallen look on her face.
“Joy, let Bridget go first. Even if she’s not your sister, she is as much Zoe’s roomie as you are.”
a mother always knows how to put her child in their place.
“Let’s set a timer for 43 minutes.”
Bridge suggested to me, and I agreed with that motion.
Bridge is a knitter and has two counters for keeping track of her rows, which would save us the work of remembering how many spanks and foot writings Zoe got during the 43 minutes. Of course, 98 spanks was only possible because Mom wasn’t too rough with it although Bridget got it much worse because she was in only her underwear when she was tied up and thus didn’t have the fabric protection like I had. Suddenly, I felt something throwing off Bridge… and it was special.
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BRIDGET
We started with a change of gag to a regular blue rubber ball gag with a red bandana pushed through its holes and blindfolded Zoe with a yellow bandana. We knew the gag would make Zoe’s laughter louder and her drooling more intense, and the timer began. I used great restraint and attempted to perfectly recreate Miss Susan’s spank intensity.
It was a nearly perfect recreation of what had happened to us before with the increasing frequency and the addition of new tortures with time. After that first spank, I proudly let Joy have the second. To pass the time, Joy asked, nay begged, Miss Susan to tell us another story from when she was in college.
While we built up the intensity to twice and then thrice per minute, Miss Susan related a tale of a time her sister did poorly on an exam. She was so snippy afterwards that Miss Susan and her cousin Darlene tied the girl to a chair and made her watch a horror movie marathon all evening and night. Miss Susan was a sick puppy when it came to TUGs. I couldn’t deny I had done similar to my own big sister two summers ago, including taping her eyes open, to force her to watch one of the Star Trek movies.
SMACK! once per minute for minutes 1-5.
SMACK SMACK! once per minute for minutes 6-10.
SMACK SMACK SMACK! once per minute for minutes 11-15.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then for minutes 36-40.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! finally for minutes 41-43.
Put that way, it’s intense. With the 15 minute mark, we started adding nipple cripples and foot writing to the program. Joy allowed me to do the first part of the foot writing in exchange for the first nipple cripple. We were well aware of each other’s preferences in such manners and enjoyed mashing Zoe into the carpet when rolling her back onto her stomach.
SMACK! was such a beautiful sound when you knew the other person liked it, but Zoe was a shrieker when it came to pain in TUGs.
“Crybaby,” I wrote in perfect cursive script on Zoe’s foot.
“HAHAHA!” Zoe cackled into the gag while I did that.
We were just getting started.
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There’s more torture to come in the following chapter, and after Zoe’s baseball game Joy is going to make her sister sleep while bound and gagged. How should Zoe be tied for her TUG slumber?
(A) Standard binding of arms, legs, etc.
(B) Spreadeagle on her back
(C) Spreadeagle on her stomach
(D) Cuffed with ankles chained to the footboard
Chapter 08
ZOE
I couldn’t believe my ears, but it was really happening. Joy took out her rigid cuffs, her Irish-8 handcuffs, and cuffed my wrists together behind my back. At Mom’s command, I was forced to sit there and watch as Mom took my burger and ate it. Not only that, but I had to sit and watch all three of them eat their dinner until it was all gone: burger, fries, and drink.
“Aw, is Zoe enjoying herself?” Bridget taunted me and jammed a finger into my rib cage.
“Should have read the receipt before coming home,” Joy added to things.
My stomach growled quite loudly while I sat there in rueful silence because I hadn’t eaten during my afternoon break. French fries and a soft drink were my supper tonight. I was going to have to get myself something else, and it felt humiliating to watch my own mother eating the food she stole from me, her own daughter. I felt like a hostage, really. After they were finished, the handcuffs were removed from my wrists so that I could eat my fries in peace. When I tried to enter the kitchen, however, Mom stopped me, and I could tell this was a test.
“I guess now we see what Joy and Bridget have planned for you,” she blocked the kitchen.
“Yes, and I’m starting by making a quick dinner for my big sister,” Joy saw my sadness, “It’s no fun if she has an empty stomach.”
“That’s the response I expected from you,” Mom knew her daughters too, too well.
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JOY
Note: Zoe is no longer proofreading my portions of the story
After Zoe had eaten, I was finally ready to play with her although my mind wanted to unlock even more secrets of my mother’s life. Each revelation brought her own TUGs closer and closer to her life after marriage, and I wanted to know more about these fascinating games she had. I could tell Bridge was also dying to know but didn't want to ask either especially after an afternoon in which Mom proved to be a more serious and more dastardly captor than any of the rest of us.
“Was that story you told earlier about you, Aunt Melissa, and Cousin Darlene true?”
I plunged headlong into investigating the alibi.
“Would I lie to my own children?”
Mom seemed surprised I would question her truthfulness.
“Given our own adventures, the plausibility of veracity…”
Bridge started.
“Oh, stop being a scientist.”
I laughed at her in an I-am-teasing-you way..
A curious smile came over Zoe’s face. She was still feeling the love of my cooking, but she also wanted to know more about whatever we were discussing. I explained to her as much as Mom had told us, and her eyes grew wide with a mixture of surprise and understanding as it seemed as though she, too, suspected these things.
At this point, I decided to “leave well enough alone” and walked over to Bridge for a private conference where we discussed plans for the captive and what we were going to do before Bridge went to her bedroom for one part of the plan and I went to mine for the other part. It was time to bring torture and Joy to my sister’s night in the form of TUGs. After all, I am the pride and Joyof her life.
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BRIDGET
Joy and I hadn’t yet agreed on what to do with Zoe once she was tied up, but we had agreed on how to tie and gag her. It seemed a simple affair, really, for the tie up part, but the game would eventually prove to be a difficult debate. I grabbed my TUG bag and returned to the living room where Joy and Zoe were sitting and talking like the sisters they were; my colleague had the sinister head harness gag in her hand.
“OK, I’m ready for whatever you two want to do to me,” Zoe had no anxiety whatsoever.
“Then lie down on the floor with your hands behind your back,” I pointed toward the carpet.
I’m a huge fan of zip ties and cable ties and love getting roughed up and roughing up others in TUG adventures. I also had those zip cuffs like the police sometimes use on people; those are awesome when you want to get the jump on someone. Tonight, I stuck to the regular cable ties, and Joy graciously let me have all the fun in zipping up her idol.
I kept it simple by tying up Zoe because I knew she couldn’t escape too easily. I zipped her wrists and elbows behind her back and then zipped her ankles and thighs. These were wide translucent cable ties. We removed her socks and shoes, and I would swear that Miss Susan kept the socks for her own nefarious purposes at a later time even though she claimed to be headed to the clothes hamper. A little zip tie kept her big toes together.
At the same time, Joy decided to begin with the head harness gag just to humiliate her sister a little bit. Before putting the gag in place, she put her sister’s hair into a neat ponytail using a green scrunchie. I was amazed by the love with which Joy could do such things; my siblings and I, even when the moment was warm and fuzzy, were rough and tumble and just took down each other without qualms. Joy’s movements were calm and smooth despite how quickly she actually performed the task.
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ZOE
I posed and acted like a damsel-in-distress while Joy took pictures and photographs. Since Joy and Bridget couldn’t agree on which method to use when they finally tickled my feet, they decided to let the Cool Girls’ Club vote and decide from several choices that included foot writing and the hair brush… I love and hate the hair brush! In Joy’s hands, a hair brush is the most awful thing your feet have ever experienced.
In the meanwhile, they did agree on one thing: everything else. Bridget sat me on her lap and pulled my shirt up, and Joy unclipped my bra to ready me for that inevitable part of my torment. Only now did one of the pieces of plastic wrap around my torso, right below my breasts and around my arms.
“Over the course of one hour,” Joy stood up and began circling me like an eagle readying to dive, “Bridget and I experienced how many of each torture?”
“98 spanks, 19 foot writings, and 12 nipple cripples, and it was 43 minutes,” Bridget reiterated the counts for me.
“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Joy teased Bridget about the latter’s love of old Star Trek: TOS reruns and then crouched down in front of my face, “So, think you can handle it?”
“NO!” I grimaced and started squirming while Bridget held me tightly.
That was the cruelest interpretation of “an eye for an eye” I had ever heard of in TUGs.
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JOY
“We haven’t even started and already got 6 votes agreeing with you on foot writing,” I shared the results with a proud Bridge and again got in Zoe’s face, “19 times, Zo’. 19 times.”
I put my phone in my skirt’s right pocket and took a pair of binder clips out of the left pocket and dangled them in front of Zoe’s eyes to taunt her and to announce what was coming to her next in a very, very cruel manner. I grabbed even boob and squished each part of her poor self in one of the painful pieces and aluminum and didn’t even feel any pangs of guilt when she let out a loud grunt of pain in order to announce her physical displeasure despite the obvious psychological pleasure. A reassuring smile helped her calm down after that; she knew how much I adored her; she also knew the pain of revenge when Bridge rolled her onto her stomach and mashed her boobs into the carpet.
“Shall we alternate?”
Bridge asked me with a hopeful smile.
“I should go first because she’s my sister.”
I declared, and Mom immediately saw a crestfallen look on her face.
“Joy, let Bridget go first. Even if she’s not your sister, she is as much Zoe’s roomie as you are.”
a mother always knows how to put her child in their place.
“Let’s set a timer for 43 minutes.”
Bridge suggested to me, and I agreed with that motion.
Bridge is a knitter and has two counters for keeping track of her rows, which would save us the work of remembering how many spanks and foot writings Zoe got during the 43 minutes. Of course, 98 spanks was only possible because Mom wasn’t too rough with it although Bridget got it much worse because she was in only her underwear when she was tied up and thus didn’t have the fabric protection like I had. Suddenly, I felt something throwing off Bridge… and it was special.
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BRIDGET
We started with a change of gag to a regular blue rubber ball gag with a red bandana pushed through its holes and blindfolded Zoe with a yellow bandana. We knew the gag would make Zoe’s laughter louder and her drooling more intense, and the timer began. I used great restraint and attempted to perfectly recreate Miss Susan’s spank intensity.
It was a nearly perfect recreation of what had happened to us before with the increasing frequency and the addition of new tortures with time. After that first spank, I proudly let Joy have the second. To pass the time, Joy asked, nay begged, Miss Susan to tell us another story from when she was in college.
While we built up the intensity to twice and then thrice per minute, Miss Susan related a tale of a time her sister did poorly on an exam. She was so snippy afterwards that Miss Susan and her cousin Darlene tied the girl to a chair and made her watch a horror movie marathon all evening and night. Miss Susan was a sick puppy when it came to TUGs. I couldn’t deny I had done similar to my own big sister two summers ago, including taping her eyes open, to force her to watch one of the Star Trek movies.
SMACK! once per minute for minutes 1-5.
SMACK SMACK! once per minute for minutes 6-10.
SMACK SMACK SMACK! once per minute for minutes 11-15.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! then for minutes 36-40.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! finally for minutes 41-43.
Put that way, it’s intense. With the 15 minute mark, we started adding nipple cripples and foot writing to the program. Joy allowed me to do the first part of the foot writing in exchange for the first nipple cripple. We were well aware of each other’s preferences in such manners and enjoyed mashing Zoe into the carpet when rolling her back onto her stomach.
SMACK! was such a beautiful sound when you knew the other person liked it, but Zoe was a shrieker when it came to pain in TUGs.
“Crybaby,” I wrote in perfect cursive script on Zoe’s foot.
“HAHAHA!” Zoe cackled into the gag while I did that.
We were just getting started.
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There’s more torture to come in the following chapter, and after Zoe’s baseball game Joy is going to make her sister sleep while bound and gagged. How should Zoe be tied for her TUG slumber?
(A) Standard binding of arms, legs, etc.
(B) Spreadeagle on her back
(C) Spreadeagle on her stomach
(D) Cuffed with ankles chained to the footboard
Last edited by AlexUSA3 10 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Bondageboi
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 188
- Joined: 1 year ago
- Location: England
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 229
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
B
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-
Alisonlovesropes
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 521
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: UK
B
Sometimes gagged, sometimes blindfold. Always barefoot.
A face-up spreadeagle easily won the vote to be Zoe’s overnight imprisonment.
[mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention] [mention]Lucky Lottie[/mention] [mention]Windrunner[/mention] [mention]hafnermg[/mention] [mention]Dreamerforever2004[/mention] [mention]beeblebrox883[/mention] [mention]TklToy[/mention] [mention]Bondageboi[/mention]
Chapter 09
ZOE
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! from Joy came concurrently with
Crybaby on my feet from Bridget; both were accompanied by
“HA HA HA UGGGGHHHH!” as my mixed laughter and pain; and they were followed by
TWIST! on my nipples from Joy.
“YEOW!” I yelled like the crybaby I could be.
The punishment that was being meted out to me was unlike anything else I had ever experienced. Even my sorority girls, who had all taken turns tying up their president of three years, had never dished out pain like this.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! came from Bridget in another minute.
Gangsta Girl was here was Joy’s message for my feet.
“GAHHHH HA HA HAAAAA!” I laughed loudly and ignored the pain until
TWIST! Bridget was demonic with that!
“OWWWWWW!” I cried out loudly.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!
“GMM MMM MMMMM!” I wailed when it went up to five per minute.
They weren’t hard smacks, so it was easy to endure so many… but would I survive the intensity when we got to 9 spanks per minute?
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JOY
Honestly, dishing out the punishment was fun… to an extent. I couldn’t believe that my mother had dished out all that both Bridge and I for that entire time when the two of us working together felt a bit overwhelmed by working in tandem to dish out punishment to only a single captive. I could be a very sadistic dominant, but this amount of spanking was getting tiresome even though I hadn’t gotten sick of the foot writing or the twisting. Oh, heck, it was more fun hearing my sister scream than it was hearing our sorority sisters or my roommates scream, and frankly I kind of enjoyed this kind of game where there were boundaries but no limits within them. How did Mom not get bored of all that spanking?
Bridget didn't get bored of it either because she absolutely loved giving and receiving spanks in the same way I liked giving and receiving the twists, but we shared that love of the tickling. It was easy to agree that she would do all the spanking, I would do all the twisting, and we would alternate the tickling. Sometimes, we easily cooperated to perform a task and other times we had to go our separate ways especially since both of us could be so stubborn.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! we were nearing the end!
“HMPH!” Zoe thrashed in her ziptie prison.
Zoe started cackling when I began writing God loves me so much… on her left heel… and then on my next turn I wrote He made you my sister on the right. By then we were in that anxious eight spank range, and just about then I decided it was time to put a twist on things.
“HOYYYYYYYYY!”
“Yes?” I replied with perfect sarcasm while she panted and stared at me in horror.
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BRIDGET
Joy is a clever girl and can easily put two and two together to solve a variety of things. When I saw the looks on both girl’s faces, I turned to their mother and felt some tiny part of me sink a little in a cold fear. After hearing those stories… It was déjà vu with Joy as their mother and Zoe as Aunt Melissa or Cousin Darlene… A dominant type with a frightful sadistic streak against a more naturally submissive personality with both always willing to leave their comfort zone for the other's satisfaction.
“It's been a long time since you've been nose-clipped,” Joy taunted Zoe some more.
“No,” I firmly said and suddenly felt my strong sense of justice arising within me.
“What do you mean?” my roommate looked right at me.
“Breathplay isn't fun; it's downright evil! If you do that to Zoe, I’m packing my bags and leaving until I feel safe!” anger welled up within me, and I clenched my fists.
“But, Bridge, it's just quick… and fun like… when a sibling or friend dunks you in the pool,” she stumbled over her words now.
“I don't care. It scares me too much! At least wait until I’m not here!” I actually was shaking with a mixture of fear and rage, “I’m done playing.”
“Bridget… I won't do it… I want your friendship more than a sick thrill,” she looked right at me.
“Thank you,” I struggled to keep calm, “But I’m still done… this is too much for me.”
With that, I quietly walked into the bathroom for my shower. That game had been too much in too short of a time for my comfort. Maybe it was an information overload of some kind. Joy was thriving in that environment, and some part of Zoe was as well. I hoped Joy wouldn't betray my trust.
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ZOE
“I agree with Bridget. Games involving even temporary breathlessness are way too dangerous,” Mom shocked me by taking Bridget’s side, “I think Zoe has taken more than she can handle for one game.”
I made a long, hard sigh of relief. I had long passed my breaking point during this game and couldn't wait for it to end. My butt was sore, my boobs were throbbing, and my lungs were tired from so much tickling. I didn't need to be untied, but I wanted to watch my baseball game for sure!
Joy actually cut all the zips except the ones on my wrists and ankles. Once I was in a more comfortable position, I found my mind was more with Bridget than with my sister or my baseball game. That sadness in her voice was felt by me much more strongly than Joy had felt it, and I realized that such play actually upset the innocent part of her that felt that such intensity was unhealthy.
After spending most of my time lying face down on the carpet, there was a nice trail of drool showing my squirming patterns. Now that I was up and on the couch, that drool instead went down my chin and onto my shirt. I protested and decided to snap my fingers thrice–the nuclear option to demand my gag be removed–when I saw Bridget exit the shower.
“OK, sis!” Joy always followed such rules without hesitation.
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JOY
Zoe stood up and began hopping her way toward Bridge’s bedroom, which was pretty easy for her to do, and struck up a conversation with our roommate in quiet tones which I couldn't hear. They were nodding a lot and seemed to be in absolute agreement about whatever it was. Just then, I saw Bridge grab her knife and cut Zoe free and of course immediately went over to them in disappointment.
“Zoe made a deal… You may tie her up for sleeping however you wish in exchange for her freedom between now and then,” Bridge’s tone was sweet.
“Deal!”
Baseball is so exciting for Zoe, but for Mom and I it is so relaxing. Zoe sits there rooting and cheering and jeering while I sit there just enjoying the sport for the sake of the sport even though I much prefer rooting for the Vikes. Once Bridget left, it was us three sitting on the sofa while I slowly got sleepier and sleepier until…
“Hey, wake up,” Zoe woke me up by tickling me.
“Hey! Ha ha! Did they win?” I asked hopefully while rubbing my eyes and standing up.
“No, but there are 162 games for a reason!” the loyal fan always stood by her team.
“Let’s go to bed then,” I motioned with my hand, “Be good, and you’ll be just tied and blindfolded. No pain, no gag.”
“You girls play super rough. I never got tied more than 4 hours,” my mother raised her eyebrows, and for the first time she seemed surprised by something.
Zoe followed me into the bedroom like a dog following its owner which for some reason I found absolutely amusing before warning her that she had better use the bathroom. I reminded her of that time in college that her sorority girls made her drink two cups of full tilt coffee before tying her naked in the bathtub until she had urinated. With a grimace, Zoe went to the restroom and did what she needed to do before returning and changing into a pink pajama shirt with matching shorts that put the “short” in “short shorts.”
Because my sister deserved to be comfortable for her night’s rest, I chose a spread eagle tie with enough slack to keep her comfortable but not enough for her to just slip out on her own. She made a very pretty St. Andrew’s cross, especially with my purple rope, which she had just given me on my recent birthday, and she continued to behave herself well enough that I chose a purple bandana blindfold to match the rope while our mother watched with pleasant approval at how much care I put into such a task since I even fluffed her pillows just the way Zoe does.
“Comfortable?” I wanted her approval.
“Yes, but you really should gag me,” my sister made a mischievous grin.
“Why should I?” I put my hands on my hips without considering that she couldn’t see me.
“A blue streak which I will not print,” came in a flood from her lips.
I looked at our mother who shuddered and shook her head in disapproval like I hadn’t seen since the time I put frosting on homemade brownies in high school. She turned and went to her bag and pulled out Zoe’s dirty socks from before the tickling and put one inside the other while I grabbed a navy blue bandana from mine. I tied the bandana around the parent sock and walked up to my giggling sister.
“SUFFER,” I said and rammed the package into her mouth.
“Oh, UGH!” she immediately got a taste of that.
My sister and roommate handled gags that would make me vomit and choke to death if anyone did that to me; I actually did just that once in high school when my best friend teased me by putting her stinky foot in my face with disaster averted only because I was hogtied on my stomach and not gagged at the time. Zoe is perfectly OK with them, and they might just be Bridge’s favorite gag of all. I tied the knot on the gag just tightly enough to ensure it would go nowhere and enjoyed the thought of Zoe having to suffer with that stewing in her mouth all night long.
“Well, I need to hit the sack,” I smiled at my mother and, for the first time in many years, gave her a kiss before going to bed.
“Enjoy, my babies,” my mother, who was sleeping on the inflatable mattress instead of the pull-out sofa, waved to us before I turned out the light. More on that pull-out will appear latee.
Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Zoe. Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, cow jumping over the moon…
Goodnight.
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Tomorrow, Zoe is dressing pretty for a meeting at 10 AM, and then she’s going to be Mom’s hostage afterwards. Yes, it will affect the story because it helps me to decide which “hostage photo” I want and thereby how Zoe will get tied up. Which skirt is Zoe going to wear?
(A) Denim
(B) Grey knit
(C) Black
(D) Beige
[mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention] [mention]Lucky Lottie[/mention] [mention]Windrunner[/mention] [mention]hafnermg[/mention] [mention]Dreamerforever2004[/mention] [mention]beeblebrox883[/mention] [mention]TklToy[/mention] [mention]Bondageboi[/mention]
Chapter 09
ZOE
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! from Joy came concurrently with
Crybaby on my feet from Bridget; both were accompanied by
“HA HA HA UGGGGHHHH!” as my mixed laughter and pain; and they were followed by
TWIST! on my nipples from Joy.
“YEOW!” I yelled like the crybaby I could be.
The punishment that was being meted out to me was unlike anything else I had ever experienced. Even my sorority girls, who had all taken turns tying up their president of three years, had never dished out pain like this.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! came from Bridget in another minute.
Gangsta Girl was here was Joy’s message for my feet.
“GAHHHH HA HA HAAAAA!” I laughed loudly and ignored the pain until
TWIST! Bridget was demonic with that!
“OWWWWWW!” I cried out loudly.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!
“GMM MMM MMMMM!” I wailed when it went up to five per minute.
They weren’t hard smacks, so it was easy to endure so many… but would I survive the intensity when we got to 9 spanks per minute?
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JOY
Honestly, dishing out the punishment was fun… to an extent. I couldn’t believe that my mother had dished out all that both Bridge and I for that entire time when the two of us working together felt a bit overwhelmed by working in tandem to dish out punishment to only a single captive. I could be a very sadistic dominant, but this amount of spanking was getting tiresome even though I hadn’t gotten sick of the foot writing or the twisting. Oh, heck, it was more fun hearing my sister scream than it was hearing our sorority sisters or my roommates scream, and frankly I kind of enjoyed this kind of game where there were boundaries but no limits within them. How did Mom not get bored of all that spanking?
Bridget didn't get bored of it either because she absolutely loved giving and receiving spanks in the same way I liked giving and receiving the twists, but we shared that love of the tickling. It was easy to agree that she would do all the spanking, I would do all the twisting, and we would alternate the tickling. Sometimes, we easily cooperated to perform a task and other times we had to go our separate ways especially since both of us could be so stubborn.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK! we were nearing the end!
“HMPH!” Zoe thrashed in her ziptie prison.
Zoe started cackling when I began writing God loves me so much… on her left heel… and then on my next turn I wrote He made you my sister on the right. By then we were in that anxious eight spank range, and just about then I decided it was time to put a twist on things.
“HOYYYYYYYYY!”
“Yes?” I replied with perfect sarcasm while she panted and stared at me in horror.
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BRIDGET
Joy is a clever girl and can easily put two and two together to solve a variety of things. When I saw the looks on both girl’s faces, I turned to their mother and felt some tiny part of me sink a little in a cold fear. After hearing those stories… It was déjà vu with Joy as their mother and Zoe as Aunt Melissa or Cousin Darlene… A dominant type with a frightful sadistic streak against a more naturally submissive personality with both always willing to leave their comfort zone for the other's satisfaction.
“It's been a long time since you've been nose-clipped,” Joy taunted Zoe some more.
“No,” I firmly said and suddenly felt my strong sense of justice arising within me.
“What do you mean?” my roommate looked right at me.
“Breathplay isn't fun; it's downright evil! If you do that to Zoe, I’m packing my bags and leaving until I feel safe!” anger welled up within me, and I clenched my fists.
“But, Bridge, it's just quick… and fun like… when a sibling or friend dunks you in the pool,” she stumbled over her words now.
“I don't care. It scares me too much! At least wait until I’m not here!” I actually was shaking with a mixture of fear and rage, “I’m done playing.”
“Bridget… I won't do it… I want your friendship more than a sick thrill,” she looked right at me.
“Thank you,” I struggled to keep calm, “But I’m still done… this is too much for me.”
With that, I quietly walked into the bathroom for my shower. That game had been too much in too short of a time for my comfort. Maybe it was an information overload of some kind. Joy was thriving in that environment, and some part of Zoe was as well. I hoped Joy wouldn't betray my trust.
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ZOE
“I agree with Bridget. Games involving even temporary breathlessness are way too dangerous,” Mom shocked me by taking Bridget’s side, “I think Zoe has taken more than she can handle for one game.”
I made a long, hard sigh of relief. I had long passed my breaking point during this game and couldn't wait for it to end. My butt was sore, my boobs were throbbing, and my lungs were tired from so much tickling. I didn't need to be untied, but I wanted to watch my baseball game for sure!
Joy actually cut all the zips except the ones on my wrists and ankles. Once I was in a more comfortable position, I found my mind was more with Bridget than with my sister or my baseball game. That sadness in her voice was felt by me much more strongly than Joy had felt it, and I realized that such play actually upset the innocent part of her that felt that such intensity was unhealthy.
After spending most of my time lying face down on the carpet, there was a nice trail of drool showing my squirming patterns. Now that I was up and on the couch, that drool instead went down my chin and onto my shirt. I protested and decided to snap my fingers thrice–the nuclear option to demand my gag be removed–when I saw Bridget exit the shower.
“OK, sis!” Joy always followed such rules without hesitation.
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JOY
Zoe stood up and began hopping her way toward Bridge’s bedroom, which was pretty easy for her to do, and struck up a conversation with our roommate in quiet tones which I couldn't hear. They were nodding a lot and seemed to be in absolute agreement about whatever it was. Just then, I saw Bridge grab her knife and cut Zoe free and of course immediately went over to them in disappointment.
“Zoe made a deal… You may tie her up for sleeping however you wish in exchange for her freedom between now and then,” Bridge’s tone was sweet.
“Deal!”
Baseball is so exciting for Zoe, but for Mom and I it is so relaxing. Zoe sits there rooting and cheering and jeering while I sit there just enjoying the sport for the sake of the sport even though I much prefer rooting for the Vikes. Once Bridget left, it was us three sitting on the sofa while I slowly got sleepier and sleepier until…
“Hey, wake up,” Zoe woke me up by tickling me.
“Hey! Ha ha! Did they win?” I asked hopefully while rubbing my eyes and standing up.
“No, but there are 162 games for a reason!” the loyal fan always stood by her team.
“Let’s go to bed then,” I motioned with my hand, “Be good, and you’ll be just tied and blindfolded. No pain, no gag.”
“You girls play super rough. I never got tied more than 4 hours,” my mother raised her eyebrows, and for the first time she seemed surprised by something.
Zoe followed me into the bedroom like a dog following its owner which for some reason I found absolutely amusing before warning her that she had better use the bathroom. I reminded her of that time in college that her sorority girls made her drink two cups of full tilt coffee before tying her naked in the bathtub until she had urinated. With a grimace, Zoe went to the restroom and did what she needed to do before returning and changing into a pink pajama shirt with matching shorts that put the “short” in “short shorts.”
Because my sister deserved to be comfortable for her night’s rest, I chose a spread eagle tie with enough slack to keep her comfortable but not enough for her to just slip out on her own. She made a very pretty St. Andrew’s cross, especially with my purple rope, which she had just given me on my recent birthday, and she continued to behave herself well enough that I chose a purple bandana blindfold to match the rope while our mother watched with pleasant approval at how much care I put into such a task since I even fluffed her pillows just the way Zoe does.
“Comfortable?” I wanted her approval.
“Yes, but you really should gag me,” my sister made a mischievous grin.
“Why should I?” I put my hands on my hips without considering that she couldn’t see me.
“A blue streak which I will not print,” came in a flood from her lips.
I looked at our mother who shuddered and shook her head in disapproval like I hadn’t seen since the time I put frosting on homemade brownies in high school. She turned and went to her bag and pulled out Zoe’s dirty socks from before the tickling and put one inside the other while I grabbed a navy blue bandana from mine. I tied the bandana around the parent sock and walked up to my giggling sister.
“SUFFER,” I said and rammed the package into her mouth.
“Oh, UGH!” she immediately got a taste of that.
My sister and roommate handled gags that would make me vomit and choke to death if anyone did that to me; I actually did just that once in high school when my best friend teased me by putting her stinky foot in my face with disaster averted only because I was hogtied on my stomach and not gagged at the time. Zoe is perfectly OK with them, and they might just be Bridge’s favorite gag of all. I tied the knot on the gag just tightly enough to ensure it would go nowhere and enjoyed the thought of Zoe having to suffer with that stewing in her mouth all night long.
“Well, I need to hit the sack,” I smiled at my mother and, for the first time in many years, gave her a kiss before going to bed.
“Enjoy, my babies,” my mother, who was sleeping on the inflatable mattress instead of the pull-out sofa, waved to us before I turned out the light. More on that pull-out will appear latee.
Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Zoe. Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, cow jumping over the moon…
Goodnight.
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Tomorrow, Zoe is dressing pretty for a meeting at 10 AM, and then she’s going to be Mom’s hostage afterwards. Yes, it will affect the story because it helps me to decide which “hostage photo” I want and thereby how Zoe will get tied up. Which skirt is Zoe going to wear?
(A) Denim
(B) Grey knit
(C) Black
(D) Beige
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
-
Lucky Lottie
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 229
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Australia
Awesome story. I'm going to say C.
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
-
Bondageboi
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 188
- Joined: 1 year ago
- Location: England
Excellent story. B
I was just introduced to this story, but we'll go with a nice grey knit skirt. Option B. 
[mention]Alisonlovesropes[/mention] [mention]Lucky Lottie[/mention] [mention]Windrunner[/mention] [mention]hafnermg[/mention] [mention]Dreamerforever2004[/mention] [mention]beeblebrox883[/mention] [mention]TklToy[/mention] [mention]Bondageboi[/mention] [mention]tiedpgirl[/mention]
(B) won the vote, so Zoe will be wearing the grey knit skirt.
Chapter 10
ZOE
Joy had tied me up so comfortably that I honestly had no problem sleeping through the night. My only problem was that I am one of those people who likes to curl up into fetal position while sleeping, so it took me a little bit to fall asleep. My dreams largely involved images of me and cousin Darlene’s children getting into friendly TUGs of the kind I played in high school with Joy and her friends.
The dream transitioned to a different image with time. That image was Joy and Mom talking in whispers about something that I couldn’t differentiate from generalized mumbling. The scene ended however when I felt something scratching my nose. It wasn’t really scratching; it was Joy tying a red bandana over my nose!
“I’m sorry, Zo’,” Joy said kindly when she saw my eyes open, “Mom asked me to do it.”
“GUM HUH UHHHH!” I cried out.
Joy added a fresh white handkerchief over my mouth for an OTM gag as well, and she seemed quite pleased. The flavor of my socks had mostly faded overnight, and the soaked cotton balls were now trapped in my parched mouth courtesy the extra layers of fabric. All my little sister would divulge was that it was all related to breakfast and that I had to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, after enough waiting, Mom came into the bedroom.
“Zoe, sweetheart, I’ve made a delicious breakfast for you, but you this time you owe me something as payment,” that maternal smile beamed with love.
“Wha?”
“You will be the hostage today.”
For a yogurt with granola and toasted English muffins with bananas and honey I would of course agree to that! That made a fantastic start to everyone’s day! As we sat down to eat, Bridget came back from work and shared her joys and stresses with us.
“Listen to this: ‘Any chance of getting a floor mount camera?’ That came in my DM’s at 11.”
“That’s disgusting,” Mom didn’t realize how rough TV meteorologists have it.
“Then at 2 I got, ‘Too bad that V-neck doesn’t plunge further,’” Bridget sounded… tired.
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BRIDGET
I actually hadn’t gone to bed yet when the girls left for school. Zoe was right that I was tired. I had only been at it 2 months and gotten more perverted messages on my public accounts than I had gotten all four years of college! I started venting my frustrations to Miss Susan who nodded in understanding and provided a lot of advice from her years working in, as it turned out, anger management.
“Is it all right if I sit out today’s game?” I asked her with a despondent frown.
“Joy’s working a full shift today. I plan to send the picture about 10 minutes before she leaves. I’ll have Zoe long tied up by then.”
“Thanks, Miss Susan,” I smiled and told her I would consider it.
With that I retired to bed for the day. It was so strange living such an upside-down life. To say I loved my job would be false; I loved the good parts of my job though. The science parts were honestly the best, but the positive messages and compliments always brought a smile to my face, especially after a big weather day.
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JOY
How can a nickname display both hatred and love? “Babushka” somehow was a verbal expression of my mother’s infinite love for me, her daughter, and a verbal expression of my officemate’s seemingly infinite disdain for me, her colleague. I only held my tongue because I didn’t know if she was intentionally rude or if she was just silly and understood that I was quite the awful looking frump and undeserving of my position.
Today, when that girl said it, it triggered something within me, and I held my tongue and kept a stiff upper lip on the way back to my office. Once alone, I put my hair into a ponytail and removed the bandana that I had been wearing all day up to that point before deciding to retreat to the equipment laboratory which was my responsibility and the reason I had been hired. I let out a sigh and turned to my labors because I was supposed to become familiar with each one of these pieces and fix them and get them back in operation!
Today’s hostage photo came much later than I honestly expected. I was honestly expecting something more in the neighborhood of 1:30 to 2:00, but instead they came around 3:45, which was just before I was planning on leaving for the day! Oh, how that made my day though to both hear from my mother and to see the look on Zoe’s face!
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ZOE
It seemed fair enough that Joy and I traded daily who was Mom’s victim. Sure I was smiling when Mom took the first photo of her ever-professional daughter. I thought I was professional, anyway, with my coordinating long-sleeves and my business skirt. It was perfect for a meeting in a very chilly room because no one could see the blanket under the table that kept my legs warm while I was sitting. I admit I have a thing for high heels.
As soon as I walked in the front door, I was ordered to sit down by my mother for her to tie me up, sometime around 1 o’clock. Wow, did she tie me up as I realized when I felt my elbows touching. She was quite good at cinching rope so that it didn't pinch, and she tied my wrists, forearms, and elbows. My legs were similarly tied at my ankles and either side of my knees. Mom had me trapped.
“Is Bridget joining us?” I asked hopefully while squirming a little.
“I don't know. She's catching upon sleep, and I cannot risk you waking her,” Mom approached me with what appeared to be Joy’s bandana from the previous day.
“You don't have to gag me now. I’ll be quiet,” I whined a bit.
Mom took no chances and jammed my sister’s dirty headscarf in my mouth and sealed it in with one of the tightest knotted cleave gags I ever had in my life. The red bandana ensured the stuffing would stay in for at least a good while. Joy was the prettier Fredericks girl, but she was the less savory one. In the interim before it was time to text Mom’s Lovable Little Babushka, I was hogtied on the table…
The hogtie was of course uncomfortable, but at least my wrists and hands were only connected and not touching. While I struggled, Mom explained her plans for the game including a part that caused me to get a bit nervous; I was going to be subject to a similar “lateness torment” when Joy surpassed the possibly unreasonable time limit. From what I gathered, she hadn't decided on her regimen of torture yet.
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BRIDGET
I slept straight from 7:45 to 3:29 and woke up feeling like a million bucks! I quickly threw on some jean shorts and a Green Bay Packers t-shirt, white socks, and a pair of sneakers and went out to see what Miss Susie had dreamt up on this day. For today's game, I felt it best to stay out and let Joy and Zoe have it just between them.
“Bridget! You're just in time! Would you mind taking the hostage photos?” she asked me in her cordial manner.
“Certainly! I’m happy to help you!” my adequate sleep translated to feeling bright and cheerful.
I took the first photo with Zoe playing up the part of a damsel-in-distress. She gave me some rude, but not profane, gag talk when I took a close-up, and again she posed in a very cutesy manner. I made her sit on the table, and after that she got more and more agitated while her mother explained what torments she had in mind for her daughter. Zoe’s torture was my excitement, it seemed, and I reknotted the bright red bandana that gagged her so tightly that, despite the stuffing, it was between her teeth! I also checked all the ropes and maybe pulled her elbows together a little more, and it is possible, quite possible, I did all these things on purpose.
Truth be told, it felt good to have a day off from being tied up. I was very much… a kidnapper at heart and enjoyed more non-consensual games. Of course there were boundaries, but Joy and I both liked to just grab and go without any warning once we knew it wasn't going to cause any problems for the other person. I know better than anyone else as the only Cool Girl who missed a homework deadline because she was bound and gagged and locked in an armoire. We learned from that freshman mistake.
Because I was free for a change, I was able to give Miss Susan more accurate on travel times for her to setup Joy’s tasks…
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JOY
When I got the text from Mom, I got so excited that I silently dashed back to my office, gathered my things, and left without saying a word to a soul. I didn't run, but I walked quite quickly back to my car. Once I was settled into the warm greenhouse, I opened the text and admired the photos of the beautiful damsel-in-distress that I had the privilege of calling my sister, whom I loved more than anyone else in the world except our parents.
I had no clue what had happened in the pictures, but I could tell that something off camera had Zoe’s full attention in a negative way because in those last few photos I saw an increasing level of discomfort that seemed tinged with negative anticipation. Her eyes were wide, the gag was tight, the ropes were tighter, and her outfit was gorgeous on the figure that I so deeply admired because I utterly despised that extra 10 pounds I seemed to always carry around and was unable to lose even when I tried dieting although I could blame that on being too lazy to exercise despite having more than enough willpower to stick to it. I quickly responded to let my mother know that I had received the hostage photos and was willing and ready to play her game, whatever that was, on the usual terms we had been following all week long.
Go to the grocery store. You have until 4:30 to get home with the requested items, seemed simple enough to me.
With that, I walked to the car and began the ride to the grocery store without even knowing what I was buying or what Mom was going to do to Zoe.
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Zoe is going to be tortured based on how late Joy is, just as Joy and Bridget were the day before. Which foot torture will Zoe get?
(A) Olive oil and a blow dryer, to prime her feet for fingernail and hairbrush tickling
(B) Baby oil, ahead of electric toothbrush and hairbrush tickling
(C) Icing, to make bastinado and rubber band torture hurt even more
(B) won the vote, so Zoe will be wearing the grey knit skirt.
Chapter 10
ZOE
Joy had tied me up so comfortably that I honestly had no problem sleeping through the night. My only problem was that I am one of those people who likes to curl up into fetal position while sleeping, so it took me a little bit to fall asleep. My dreams largely involved images of me and cousin Darlene’s children getting into friendly TUGs of the kind I played in high school with Joy and her friends.
The dream transitioned to a different image with time. That image was Joy and Mom talking in whispers about something that I couldn’t differentiate from generalized mumbling. The scene ended however when I felt something scratching my nose. It wasn’t really scratching; it was Joy tying a red bandana over my nose!
“I’m sorry, Zo’,” Joy said kindly when she saw my eyes open, “Mom asked me to do it.”
“GUM HUH UHHHH!” I cried out.
Joy added a fresh white handkerchief over my mouth for an OTM gag as well, and she seemed quite pleased. The flavor of my socks had mostly faded overnight, and the soaked cotton balls were now trapped in my parched mouth courtesy the extra layers of fabric. All my little sister would divulge was that it was all related to breakfast and that I had to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, after enough waiting, Mom came into the bedroom.
“Zoe, sweetheart, I’ve made a delicious breakfast for you, but you this time you owe me something as payment,” that maternal smile beamed with love.
“Wha?”
“You will be the hostage today.”
For a yogurt with granola and toasted English muffins with bananas and honey I would of course agree to that! That made a fantastic start to everyone’s day! As we sat down to eat, Bridget came back from work and shared her joys and stresses with us.
“Listen to this: ‘Any chance of getting a floor mount camera?’ That came in my DM’s at 11.”
“That’s disgusting,” Mom didn’t realize how rough TV meteorologists have it.
“Then at 2 I got, ‘Too bad that V-neck doesn’t plunge further,’” Bridget sounded… tired.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
BRIDGET
I actually hadn’t gone to bed yet when the girls left for school. Zoe was right that I was tired. I had only been at it 2 months and gotten more perverted messages on my public accounts than I had gotten all four years of college! I started venting my frustrations to Miss Susan who nodded in understanding and provided a lot of advice from her years working in, as it turned out, anger management.
“Is it all right if I sit out today’s game?” I asked her with a despondent frown.
“Joy’s working a full shift today. I plan to send the picture about 10 minutes before she leaves. I’ll have Zoe long tied up by then.”
“Thanks, Miss Susan,” I smiled and told her I would consider it.
With that I retired to bed for the day. It was so strange living such an upside-down life. To say I loved my job would be false; I loved the good parts of my job though. The science parts were honestly the best, but the positive messages and compliments always brought a smile to my face, especially after a big weather day.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
JOY
How can a nickname display both hatred and love? “Babushka” somehow was a verbal expression of my mother’s infinite love for me, her daughter, and a verbal expression of my officemate’s seemingly infinite disdain for me, her colleague. I only held my tongue because I didn’t know if she was intentionally rude or if she was just silly and understood that I was quite the awful looking frump and undeserving of my position.
Today, when that girl said it, it triggered something within me, and I held my tongue and kept a stiff upper lip on the way back to my office. Once alone, I put my hair into a ponytail and removed the bandana that I had been wearing all day up to that point before deciding to retreat to the equipment laboratory which was my responsibility and the reason I had been hired. I let out a sigh and turned to my labors because I was supposed to become familiar with each one of these pieces and fix them and get them back in operation!
Today’s hostage photo came much later than I honestly expected. I was honestly expecting something more in the neighborhood of 1:30 to 2:00, but instead they came around 3:45, which was just before I was planning on leaving for the day! Oh, how that made my day though to both hear from my mother and to see the look on Zoe’s face!
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
ZOE
It seemed fair enough that Joy and I traded daily who was Mom’s victim. Sure I was smiling when Mom took the first photo of her ever-professional daughter. I thought I was professional, anyway, with my coordinating long-sleeves and my business skirt. It was perfect for a meeting in a very chilly room because no one could see the blanket under the table that kept my legs warm while I was sitting. I admit I have a thing for high heels.
As soon as I walked in the front door, I was ordered to sit down by my mother for her to tie me up, sometime around 1 o’clock. Wow, did she tie me up as I realized when I felt my elbows touching. She was quite good at cinching rope so that it didn't pinch, and she tied my wrists, forearms, and elbows. My legs were similarly tied at my ankles and either side of my knees. Mom had me trapped.
“Is Bridget joining us?” I asked hopefully while squirming a little.
“I don't know. She's catching upon sleep, and I cannot risk you waking her,” Mom approached me with what appeared to be Joy’s bandana from the previous day.
“You don't have to gag me now. I’ll be quiet,” I whined a bit.
Mom took no chances and jammed my sister’s dirty headscarf in my mouth and sealed it in with one of the tightest knotted cleave gags I ever had in my life. The red bandana ensured the stuffing would stay in for at least a good while. Joy was the prettier Fredericks girl, but she was the less savory one. In the interim before it was time to text Mom’s Lovable Little Babushka, I was hogtied on the table…
The hogtie was of course uncomfortable, but at least my wrists and hands were only connected and not touching. While I struggled, Mom explained her plans for the game including a part that caused me to get a bit nervous; I was going to be subject to a similar “lateness torment” when Joy surpassed the possibly unreasonable time limit. From what I gathered, she hadn't decided on her regimen of torture yet.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
BRIDGET
I slept straight from 7:45 to 3:29 and woke up feeling like a million bucks! I quickly threw on some jean shorts and a Green Bay Packers t-shirt, white socks, and a pair of sneakers and went out to see what Miss Susie had dreamt up on this day. For today's game, I felt it best to stay out and let Joy and Zoe have it just between them.
“Bridget! You're just in time! Would you mind taking the hostage photos?” she asked me in her cordial manner.
“Certainly! I’m happy to help you!” my adequate sleep translated to feeling bright and cheerful.
I took the first photo with Zoe playing up the part of a damsel-in-distress. She gave me some rude, but not profane, gag talk when I took a close-up, and again she posed in a very cutesy manner. I made her sit on the table, and after that she got more and more agitated while her mother explained what torments she had in mind for her daughter. Zoe’s torture was my excitement, it seemed, and I reknotted the bright red bandana that gagged her so tightly that, despite the stuffing, it was between her teeth! I also checked all the ropes and maybe pulled her elbows together a little more, and it is possible, quite possible, I did all these things on purpose.
Truth be told, it felt good to have a day off from being tied up. I was very much… a kidnapper at heart and enjoyed more non-consensual games. Of course there were boundaries, but Joy and I both liked to just grab and go without any warning once we knew it wasn't going to cause any problems for the other person. I know better than anyone else as the only Cool Girl who missed a homework deadline because she was bound and gagged and locked in an armoire. We learned from that freshman mistake.
Because I was free for a change, I was able to give Miss Susan more accurate on travel times for her to setup Joy’s tasks…
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
JOY
When I got the text from Mom, I got so excited that I silently dashed back to my office, gathered my things, and left without saying a word to a soul. I didn't run, but I walked quite quickly back to my car. Once I was settled into the warm greenhouse, I opened the text and admired the photos of the beautiful damsel-in-distress that I had the privilege of calling my sister, whom I loved more than anyone else in the world except our parents.
I had no clue what had happened in the pictures, but I could tell that something off camera had Zoe’s full attention in a negative way because in those last few photos I saw an increasing level of discomfort that seemed tinged with negative anticipation. Her eyes were wide, the gag was tight, the ropes were tighter, and her outfit was gorgeous on the figure that I so deeply admired because I utterly despised that extra 10 pounds I seemed to always carry around and was unable to lose even when I tried dieting although I could blame that on being too lazy to exercise despite having more than enough willpower to stick to it. I quickly responded to let my mother know that I had received the hostage photos and was willing and ready to play her game, whatever that was, on the usual terms we had been following all week long.
Go to the grocery store. You have until 4:30 to get home with the requested items, seemed simple enough to me.
With that, I walked to the car and began the ride to the grocery store without even knowing what I was buying or what Mom was going to do to Zoe.
=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=
Zoe is going to be tortured based on how late Joy is, just as Joy and Bridget were the day before. Which foot torture will Zoe get?
(A) Olive oil and a blow dryer, to prime her feet for fingernail and hairbrush tickling
(B) Baby oil, ahead of electric toothbrush and hairbrush tickling
(C) Icing, to make bastinado and rubber band torture hurt even more
Last edited by AlexUSA3 9 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!