Annie and Me 2: On Feet, Tape, and Hogties (f/F)

[AlexUSA3]

I hope @Nadiatugs, @Lucky Lottie, @TheEngineer, and @hafnermg find this a worthy successor to Annie and Me.

Annie and Me 2: On Feet, Tape, and Hogties (f/F)

“Take that! You're now my captive.”
“Mmmm!” I grunt into my little sister’s dirty socks.
“Don't worry. I’m just taking you hostage,” Annie explains curtly.
“Mmm mm mmmm!” I protest loudly.
“Don't force me to tape you,” she gently runs a finger along my right sole.
“Mmph,” her threat subdues me.

Annila, my sweet younger half-sister, is a joy I cannot put into words. We look so much alike with our almost matching shades of blonde, but her little shades are a bit lighter than mine and her dark shades darker. That small, round nose, and those blue, brilliant blue, eyes are so cute and remind me of her late mother.

I had the day out of work, and it was a rainy, stormy, summer day, and after I asked so sweetly Papa said Annie could spend the day with me. On my way home from doing my exercises, I picked up dear Annila and took her to my home. How sweet she was inside her heart; she made traditional Finnish cookies just for us.

The young teen wore brown jean shorts, a forest green t-shirt, socks, and sneakers. As soon as we got in the home, she asked if she could borrow two of my bandanas, and I of course allowed this. Quickly, I saw her return with a brown bandana headband and a beige bandana mask. She had a toy gun in her hand as well.

“Stick ‘em up,” she said in crisp English.
“You're robbing me?” I asked with a slight Russian accent.
“Knees on the floor, hands behind your back,” she ordered me.
“Yes, miss,” I knelt down and put my hands behind me.
“Good girl,” she tied my wrists with a scarf to initially hold me down.
“I will do what you ask.”

I was wearing socks and sneakers too. With it, I had pink gym shorts, a bright green sports bra, and a plain pink tiedye bandana (it had no patterns) headband that I like to call my “meteorologist” because it's like white clouds in a pink sky. It was typical gym clothing for me, but for Annie it was the opportunity to see my muscles. That desire is why she eventually, with my coaching, roped me.

Ropes bind me tightly in a spreadeagle on my own bed, but with a little bit of slack. A little slack allows me to move my body enough that she gets to see my muscles contract as I struggle. In my mouth are my filthy gym socks, and a blue bandana cleave gags me to hold the wad in my mouth.

When I jerk my arms and legs in a struggle against the ropes, my muscles explosively burst. Annie studies these motions with awe and a kind of teenage worship. Fighting leads to sweating, as well, and she strokes my soles and armpits with a hairbrush to force me to laugh and instinctively jerk. I do not know if the laughing or the jerking is the goal. I am just glad she does not know about hair ties yet. She tapes and photos me for my friends to see later.

“Sammy, why is your hair always braided?” the youngster questions me.
“Huh?” her question catches me off guard.
“Why is it braided all the time? Even in church you keep it in a braid.”
“Hair in hym ihuihhenh hurhs!” I said in Russian like a fool and forcefully worked fhe gag.
“I cannot understand you. Is there a gag in your mouth?” she is taunting me now.
“Pleh!” I spit the socks out and answer, “It hurts when it’s caught in weight machine.”

She blinks at me in deep confusion before I realize she could not possibly understand what I had said. I repeat myself in English, but I did something extremely naughty. I purse my lips with a mischievous smile because I have forced her hand. Annie grabs the wet socks and approaches my mouth again.

Pushing the socks back into my mouth leads to a fresh retch on the taste as the flavors trigger the nerves and whatever other stuff is there. Annie knots the bandana before she ties it this time, and then she grabs my beloved silver duct tape. As she wraps my head, she comments on how she dislikes the smell while I try not to get excited from the same thing! My bandana slides down over my eyes, and Annie redoes the knot in order to keep it in place.

Then I feel it. Annie pushes her socks against my nose, and I suspect she is using her own bandana mask to tie it in place. I put up a big fight against her despite having no chance at victory. She likes this struggle.

“I want to be strong like you someday!” she slides a finger into my rib cage.
“Noo!” I grunt and jerk.
“You must be punished for being so bad!” I hear and feel her climbing on the bed in between my legs.
“Hahaha!” I feel her attack my ribs more forcefully, “Hahahahahaha!”
“We will leave you in pain! Your family has not paid yet!”
“Hahahahaha!” I cannot respond in any other way.

Annie Räänta, I love you, and you love me in a way I cannot understand. I hope I am in reality the hero you see in me. I hope I never lead you astray or down the wrong path. I regularly pray that God protects you and guides you into being a woman like your late mother; your mother was such a remarkable woman who saw the good in Papa and brought it out whereas dear Momma could not.

The sweet teenager is teasing me now as she removes the scrunchie that held my braid using her left hand while she assaults my left rib and armpit with her right hand. She pauses a moment to use the hair brush to fluff out my hair so she can finally, strangely for the first time, see it as she never has seen it before. I do not know why she pulls my blindfold down, but she does. After she has done this, she resumes the loving attack on my body; I am a snake in its death dance.

Indeed, there is no mask on the girl’s face; a bright smile replaces it. I howl into my dirty socks, forcing myself to taste them, and take deep, toxic breaths of her socks. Her fingers are like drugs to me though; I just like being tortured too much. She doesn’t know even half of the things I like to happen when I’m tied up. I’m just enjoying my time with my little sister.

“This will teach you not to spit out your gag!”
“MM HM HM HMMMMM!” I groan helplessly and jerk my limbs.
“I can’t believe how happy you are!”
“HMMMMMM!” the pain increases, but I think she’s the happy one.
“Sammy, thank you for finally giving Papa a chance; I wouldn’t have made it through Mama’s passing without you.”
“GAAAAAHHHH! HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!” my responses are pretty much off topic.

I am working up an incredible sweat now as I involuntarily show off my physique for my little sister’s admiration. Six-pack abs, strong arm muscles, and incredibly toned legs all vanish when I’m still and come out with incredible detail when they contract. Nothing is ripped except maybe my pecs and shoulders, but even those are still distinctly feminine in their contracted state with a standard female figure present at rest.

Annie continues her bizarre idolatry of me by continuing to tickle me whether with her fingers in my ribs, armpits, or belly or with the brush on the soles of my feet. I keep laughing helplessly at the assault, but with one of my jerks I free a wrist. I have escaped! I effortlessly push her off of me and reach over to untie myself.

“NO!” Annie reaches for the plastic gun, “Keep your hands where I can see them!”
“MMMM!” I groan and freeze.
“Now, you may slowly untie yourself. Slowly!” the desperado panics, “Bad Sammy!”

I do as my kidnapper says, and I know I have set myself up for trouble this time. Annie looks at the clock and grabs coils of rope to hand to me. She regains her confidence as she does so, and I do not know what she is planning. A smile washes over her face once again as she holds her toy gun.

“Tie your ankles and thighs together really well. It must be tight! I know your Momma spanks you into behaving.”
“Mmm hmm,” I smile under my gag at my prodigious student of TUGs and start.
“Good job!” she says when my ankles are bound.
“Ank mmm!” I respond kindly to her compliment.
“Thank you!” the bandit says when I’ve tied my thighs, “Now put these socks over your arms.”

My knee socks are a clever addition to force onto my arms. She has memorized each little detail that she has seen Momma use on me in just a month of TUG play. Even this is a surprise for me, though; she ties my wrists together in front of me instead of behind me. She ties my elbows and then my knees before the surprise comes. Annie ties my wrists to my ankles and my elbows to my knees and thighs for a front facing hogtie of a different kind. What a clever girl to figure this out without ever seeing it!

The youngster steps back and admires her work with absolute wonder at her success; she is learning the tricks all on her own. The blindfold gets put back over my eyes. A rope wraps between both my wrists and ankles and gets fastened to the footboard that is mere inches from my feet.

“Take this, you bad girl!” Annie attacks my feet with the brush again.
“Hmm hmm hmmmmmm!” my laughter renews in darkness.
“I will break you, Sammy!”
“Nooo!” I respond knowing she doesn't know the dirty things that would break me.
“Just wiggle your toes nonstop when you surrender.”
“Nooo! Hahahaha!”

My little sister is such an adorable desperado tickle torturing her big sister. I enjoy being tied by her more than most anyone else except maybe one of my friends and my own mother. I cannot believe her determination, but I am a strong and stubborn girl who will not surrender easily. Her fingers continue destroying my ribs and armpits while the brush tortures my soles. I am no longer laughing or even groaning; now I am at that stage where only agonized grunts of pain come from me. I refuse to give up, though, and instead continue to chew on my rancid socks and to sniff Annie’s.

Annie is a determined girl, though, and she tips me over and begins spanking me as best as a 13 year old who has never personally experienced any corporal punishment can dish it out. This girl is more Gangsta than I! She only makes me happier, though, because I love a good spanking. My happy groans even as I shriek in pain are nothing more than a different kind of defiance to her though.

“Bad Sammy! What am I to do with you?!”
“Mmm mm mmm!”
“Your momma does something like this,” she bunches my hair as if for a ponytail and yanks hard on it.
“Yeow! Mmm mm mmmm!” I thrash and yell unintelligible complaints.
“Give up already!” I hear playful frustration at my refusal to accept defeat.
“Noooo!” I respond again.

I am in so much pain, but I am having too much fun frustrating the determined young girl that the pain is worth it. Now, I am tired, and my lungs are almost spasming from so much forced laughter. To Annie’s joy, I wiggle my toes. She has won this round and gives me a hug. My blindfold is removed, and my sister again masks herself with it. She enjoys having me captive too much to let me go so quickly and leaves me to suck on my socks.

I do not have words to describe why I love being tied up; I just know that I do. I am a big, strong girl, stronger than any other girl I know, so being captive is like inverting the power dynamics. I have never met a girl who could actually kidnap me without help, and I voluntarily surrender to others. I love the sensations of the tortures, being unable to do anything to stop it or help myself. Tight bondages relax me even, and I feel an intimacy with those who take the time to enjoy the moments with me.

Annie is simply in love with me, her big sister, and just sees herself as a little girl who is taking over on her bigger, stronger, older sibling. It's about the shift in that sense and less about the actual domination for the playful one. It's hearing the big sister wail into the gag knowing I cannot stop her from eating all the cookies or staying up late. Most of all, she loves tying me because I first loved to be tied… and because she loved me before she ever even met me.

During the years of separation between Papa and I, I was still the pride and joy of his life, the apple of his eye, the most precious of his children whom he had hurt and as a result resolved in his own heart to become a better person, friend, husband, and father. Despite the hurt I then returned to him, he never ceased to tell Annie about me and all he was hearing about me; he told Annie she would adore me when she finally met me, and she dreamed of that day. It was apparently worth it.

Annie freed me with a careful eye making sure I did nothing funny, and as soon as my hands were free she grabbed her toy gun and ordered me to untie myself. It took me a few minutes before I was free, and she threatened to fire when I reached up to free my face from the tape.

“You will make us lunch.”
“Mmmm,” I agreed to cook.
“I will tied your legs before you may ungag yourself,” she added menacingly.
“Mm hmm,” I opened my arms for a hug.
“No hugs!” she tightened her grip, and my eyes fell, “All right.”
“Mmmmm.”

I never give free hugs. I’m shy and keep to myself. Talking to anyone but Momma is always hard for me, but Annie is different. I love her in a similar way to Momma, and I feel an emotional bond to the girl. I’m glad that God blessed me with being a sister and gave me one who appreciates me, unlike my half sister in Estonia who panicked and hid from me as if ashamed to have been found. I slowly grow closer to Elina.

I am a Russian not by choice. Momma is Russian; I was born in Russia; Momma’s brother lives next door. I speak Russian like a Russian and English like an American, except sometimes after long periods of speaking Russian. I go to a Russian Orthodox church where there are matushkas and babushkas who speak Russian.

Annie is American of Finnish parents. Papa and her late mother taught her to speak Finnish well enough so that she may freely converse in either and with what little of Papa’s family is home. We are different and similar. We talk differently yet similarly.

We are sisters before it all. Annie, I love you.

My beloved desperado watches me cook a simple American lunch of eggs on toast for us to enjoy. Every motion I make is watched with idolatry; I know I could ruin Annila if I go astray. I have a precious gift that I cannot waste.

“Samantha, sit down,” she says in a calm voice.
“Mmmm,” I sit, and she begins wrapping tape around my lower legs. Samantha?
“You may take out the gag. I left a paper towel for the socks,” she wants something.

I unpeel the tape while Annie wraps my entire lower legs tightly together as a preview of what is to come after lunch. I am slow and careful, and the youngster wraps my big toes in electrical tape as well. She learns too quickly; she is smarter than I. Blessings abound in her life even though she is too young to understand it.

“Sammy, are you having fun? You like being tied up, right?” she is a thoughtful girl!
“I only have had more fun with Momma. It's so much fun because it's you, my little sister.”
“Good,” she smiles, “I really like playing these games. It's fake, and I don't have to worry about being smaller than you. But the fun of the grab is all there.”
“You like it when you're here and Momma or I kidnap you like we do?” I ask her.
“I like all of it. I’ve had so much fun the past few weeks. I don't want you to go back to school because then I have to wait for you to come back to play again.”
“Papa will let you visit with Momma,” I say confidently, “And then you play with her. Momma will never replace your own mother, who bore you and raised you, but she is your maternal figure now.”

Annie wasn't sure whether to smile or cry, and she bitterly swallowed a piece of her food. This girl is like an angel. She has suffered but never once lost her faith in the guiding hand of God, and she blindly trusts that things will work out. Through me, a whole world is open to her. We eat in silence, our company being sufficient.

When we are done with all, Annie pulls the same socks over my arms, takes the tape, and wraps my arms, all the way from my armpits down to my wrists, in duct tape, to bind them behind my back. Next, both my socks and hers are pushed into my mouth, what an awful taste, and my mouth is wrapped in 8 fresh layers of duct tape.

“Hop!” Annie makes me stand up at gunpoint.
“No!” I defy her.
“Hop!” she jams the gun into my back.
“No!” I maintain my position.
“I said, ‘Hop!’ Hop!” she backhands me on the buttocks.
“Mmmph!” I smile inside at having won this tussle.

Annie, the clever girl, leads me to the couch, and there, in a single strip of tape, she crushes my torso from the top of my shorts up to my chest without taping my boobs. In the next strip, she covers my thighs from the knees up to my shorts. There is no hope left for me; I am Annie’s captive. I am tied up in my favorite way with one of my favorite kinds of gags by one of my favorite people.

This desperado isn't done, though. I am rolled onto my stomach, and Annie tapes my lower legs and upper legs together. She has, on her own, discovered a frog tie. More electrical tape, a wider roll she just discovered in my bag, wraps around my soles and then from there to my mouth; she pulls it tight so that I am arched and wraps it several times before sticking the middle to itself and cinching it by wrapping more around it. To my nose Annie pushes one of her sneakers, and she ties the laces around my head.

“Mmmmmm!” I groan.
“Take that, Sammy! You're a bad Gangsta Row in bad… bondage! That's it!”
“Mmmm!” I groan at both Annie's smell and taste.
“You're going nowhere,” she beams with pride.
“Nmm mmm.”
“I love you so much, Sammy! You're my hero!” she kneels down and hugs me tightly.

Nothing special happens after that. We watch the Brewer’s matinee with me tied like this the entire time. It is uncomfortable and humiliating, especially when she films me and photographs me to share it with my friends later. For what is thankfully the first of many times, my sister and I keep the other captive all day.

Annila Räänta, I love you so much and look forward to even more games with you.

THE END

[Lucky Lottie]

Another great happy little story. I can't wait to see what Annie gets up to next

[hafnermg]

Wow! Great bonding moments for these sisters!! Like Lucky Lottie above I can't wait for more of their adventures!