Back in The Sleepover, I had the girls play a game known as “TUG Court,” which was a total mockery of a courtroom and real justice and was comically conducted to conclude if a girl had or had not committed some sort of TUG-related “crime” against one or more of her friends. I realized that the concept deserved its own feature length story, and that’s what this is.
Hannah Larsson is on trial, accused of having tied her friends and then tortured them as well, all without consent. She demands a trial before the TUG Court, where she believes she can prove her innocence. The girls of the Cool Girls’ Club serve as the judge, the lawyers, the jury, and even the executioner, if necessary. Is Hannah really innocent, or is there more to this story than she and her accusers are willing to divulge? This is no ordinary courtroom: crazy antics will take place, and the gag orders might be taken quite literally.
I am seeking input from you the readers: what kinds of elements might make a “TUG Court” more fun for you as a reader and for the participants as well? Keep it clean; this is a “Story for Everyone.” I’d love to have some ideas thrown around so that this story will entertain as many as possible.
Last edited by AlexUSA33 days ago, edited 1 time in total.
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What a fun idea -- I wonder if the "gag order" could simply mean that everyone in the room is gagged except for the judge and the person who is supposed to be talking. And maybe witnesses are tied to the stand as they testify? Good luck with this!
TapeTurtle wrote: ↑1 week ago
What a fun idea -- I wonder if the "gag order" could simply mean that everyone in the room is gagged except for the judge and the person who is supposed to be talking. And maybe witnesses are tied to the stand as they testify? Good luck with this!
Agreed! A fine idea! Looking forward when it will come to pass! My compliments!
Liking the idea and looking forward to not only what you produce but also what suggestions you relieve.
And yet if I may be so bold how about you consider the concept of not just discussing the events that have been alleged, but also have demonstrations and live action. Possibly have the defendant restrained and gagged when in court and even when held in the cells etc. you could even have her straitjacketed and muzzled
There could be penalties for the lawyers like if one get held in contempt they could be bound and gagged and unable to help their client. Also blindfolds could be used to prevent people from seeing evidence and identifying it or someone. Earplugs could be used the same way. I love the court idea!!
I am still soliciting ideas for a while yet. Bring them on!
TapeTurtle wrote: ↑1 week ago
What a fun idea -- I wonder if the "gag order" could simply mean that everyone in the room is gagged except for the judge and the person who is supposed to be talking. And maybe witnesses are tied to the stand as they testify? Good luck with this!
"Gag order" is something I had in mind. Witnesses being tied will definitely be put to use.
Bandit666 wrote: ↑1 week ago
And yet if I may be so bold how about you consider the concept of not just discussing the events that have been alleged, but also have demonstrations and live action. Possibly have the defendant restrained and gagged when in court and even when held in the cells etc. you could even have her straitjacketed and muzzled
Both of these ideas appeared in The Sleepover, and yes I hope to explore them more fully here.
hafnermg wrote: ↑1 week ago
There could be penalties for the lawyers like if one get held in contempt they could be bound and gagged and unable to help their client. Also blindfolds could be used to prevent people from seeing evidence and identifying it or someone. Earplugs could be used the same way. I love the court idea!!
Some good ideas here!
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
“Please stand!” the bailiff declares, “Presenting the Honorable Judge Nichole Blakely!”
“Do we have to stand?” asks a voice.
“Yes! Now do it!” hisses another.
“She’s as honorable as any other petty hood Gangsta Queen!” a third cheekily declares.
“Oh, would you all shut up?” the bailiff responds.
“Shut up yourself first!” that second voice responds.
I cannot see what is taking place. I’m awaiting my turn to enter the room, and apparently this court goes in backwards order with the judge appearing before the defendant. I thought I was in an American court, but it’s apparently 1600s England here. This is so much less awkward than when I was arrested and tried for being the 16 year-old high school junior who was the girlfriend of the top pot distributor in the county. Oh, yeah, I sold a lot more than pot, but I only had pot on me when I got caught. I did a lot of bad things before I took control of my life one year ago.
“Bring forth the accused!” Judge Blakely declares, “Bailiff!”
“Get up,” Bailiff Sjaastad declares and opens the door, “Move out.”
“Mmmmmm!” I protest her treatment.
“Hop then!’” the bailiff's patience wears thin.
“Mmmm hyin!” I groan into my gag some more, “Hel- he!”
“Figure it out yourself!” the bailiff is enjoying this show with a grin on her face.
I have black sweatpants, a lavender long-sleeve pocket t-shirt, and a black bandana headband. I am trussed up more than a typical prisoner going out for a trial, though. My wrists are cuffed behind me, not in front, and the chain attaching the handcuffs to my torso through the belt loops on the pants is much tighter. White ropes bind my thighs and ankles together, and I am barefoot. This is much more extreme than any of my personal prison experiences. In my mouth is a red ball gag with a black strap, and, in another break from real prison systems, my elbows are cuffed as well!
My holding cell is nowhere as nice as that in juvenile detention. Instead, I’m locked in a closet while I wait, and I squint at the light while doing my hop. What the heck, Bridget Sjaastad? Be nice! I hop out towards the living room where legions of fans await me. The blonde bailiff, who is the same height as me, has platinum blonde hair that is beautiful. She's wearing blue jeans and a black sleeveless t-shirt, and she's the same height as me.
“Bailiff, why is the defendant gagged?” the judge asks in horror.
“She wouldn't stop talking to me, your honor!” the bailiff blushes.
“You're something else,” Nichole Blakely shakes her head, “Ungag her, you psychopath!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bridget stifles her laughter and obeys.
“Many thanks, your honor,” I say and am given a drink of water.
“And why are her legs tied up like that? She's not going to run away.”
“Would you like to trade jobs part way through the game?” the bailiff becomes agitated.
“Oh, heck, how about we make Hannah trade places with me?” a jury member jeers.
Nichole and Bridget become quiet, and the latter removes my gag but remains firm on the rest. How intimidating is a judge who is wearing pink athletic shorts, a navy blue t-shirt, and a pink kerchief bandana? She's a comical sight, sitting on a recliner with a gavel and a pile of papers. Her wavy brown hair is collected by the bandana and kept out of her face. Her skin is full of freckles though as her Irish name would make you expect. Another girl who's 5’4”.
I’m sitting at a small folding table with my lawyer. She has a stack of papers as well, but I can see that hers are materials to help defend my case. I look up at Michela Palmeri. Michela is tall, tanned, and gorgeous. She is 5’9” and has wavy brown hair that stretches down to her breasts in front since she lets the hair go on either side of her body. She's wearing a blue denim mini-skirt and a coordinating pin-stripe button-up shirt. White pantyhose and white high heels finish this professional’s wardrobe. Oh, by the way, she's my girlfriend, too.
At the dining table sit my accusers and their attorney, Alexandra Watkins. Alexandra is such a precious jewel in the lives of me and my friends. Her face is grave as she flips through her own papers and talks to the accusers about her strategy. She is wearing a red knee skirt, black hose, red heels, and a black three-quarter-sleeve blouse with red roses on it. Her blonde hair is very long, reaching halfway down her back, and her reading glasses have a pretty golden frame.
“Mmmm,” Michela and I exchange a kiss to push the other’s buttons.
“Miss Palmeri! Quit kissing the defendant!” Nichole booms at us.
“Oh, buzz off!” Michela blushes, “She's my partner.”
“I should hold you in contempt of court! Go home to do that!”
“Your honor, if I may suggest,” Alexandra deadpans while continuing to sit and look down at her papers, “Foam core tape on the defendant's lips.”
“Suggestion appreciated and declined.”
I looked out at the jury of my peers. There were so many faces I knew and loved who had taken advantage of spring break to be out here even if they didn't already Minnesota Tech. There were Casey, Cassie, Jenny, Joy, Kendra, Kylie, Luisa, and Zoe. Friends whom I loved and who loved me; this was going to be a memorable day.
My accusers were familiar: Ashley Calland, Emilia Albuquerque, Joyce Verdi, and Mary-Ann Voisin. Ashley, Mary-Ann, and I had shared a pod back in juvenile detention. That's right, we went to prison, and so did Kendra, Kylie, and Michela. All of us were in the same pod. You're under no obligation to respect us, but everyone present respects and loves us.
“Hannah Larsson,” Nichole solemnly proclaims, “You are charged with 4 counts of kidnapping, and 21 of assault, including spanking, fondling, kissing, and hair pulling. How do you plead?”
“Your honor,” I stand up, “I plead not guilty.”
“You understand that as a member of the Cool Girls’ Club you are entitled to a trial in which you are represented by a member of your choice and with a trial of your peers?”
“I do, and I intend to exercise my right. If there is no objection, Miss Palmeri here will serve as my attorney.”
“Miss Watkins, do you object to this decision by the defendant?”
“Oh, no,” Alexandra stands up and smiles at us, “They make a cute couple.”
“Does either attorney object to the choices of jury members?” Nichole asks.
“No objections, your honor,” Michela stands up.
“Miss Watkins, your opening statement.”
“Ladies of the court and jury,” Alexandra takes off her glasses and holds them, “I intend to prove conclusively that Miss Hannah Larsson kidnapped and tortured these four ladies just 6 days ago, on Sunday, March 6, 2016. The four victims, Ashley Calland, Emilia Albuquerque, Joyce Verdi, and Mary-Ann Voisin, contend that the actions of Miss Larsson were unprovoked and had no justification. I am pursuing the highest reasonable penalty for these actions: three hours time spent bound and gagged while being put through as much torture as the victims wish, due to their pain and suffering. This attack is unjustifiable, and the defendant Miss Larsson is a threat to all members of the Cool Girls’ Club. That is all.”
Michela is much more nervous with these opening speeches, and she nervously adjusts her shirt to be as comfortable as possible before she walks out to the floor. Her legs are so perfect thanks to her never breaking her prison exercise routine despite now being a college freshman. I beam with pride while she walks around.
“Ladies of the court and jury,” Michela's voice shakes, “My girlfriend… my client is innocent of the crime she has committed… I mean the crime she's accused of committing. I’m so nervous; I don't know if I should do this for you, babe. These four have raised a false accusation against the defendant. My client neither kidnapped nor tortured anyone. It was a gray area of bondage play known as “consensual non-consensual” in which a person is authorized to surprise the victim and do things within agreed limits. If I am successful, my client seeks retribution, and I will truss the prosecutor in a strangle hogtie. Thank you.”
“Strangle hogtie?” Alexandra puts her glasses on her blouse’s collar and points at herself, “Me?”
“Your honor, is it unreasonable to…,” Michela gets cut off.
“Go suck an egg, you two,” the judge snarls, “Miss Palmeri, mechanically dictating your plans to your opponent is… ill-advised.”
“Strangle hogtie? Me?” Alexandra asks again, “Would this be as kinky as it sounds?”
“Miss Watkins, shut up!” Nichole bangs her gavel, “Can we please proceed?”
“My apologies, your honor,” the prosecutor blushes and sits down.
“Ladies, let me explain the purpose of this court and trial,” Nichole looks around the room, “We are all Cool Girls. We have taken a vow to love and cherish our fellow members, including both the defendant and the accusers, in perpetuity. When a violation of those principles we hold takes place, we consider it an internal matter so long as the law of the land has not been broken. We’re more honest than most churches in that regard in that we do actually prosecute and punish,” she adds with a sly grin knowing nearly all of us in the room are either religious or at least maintain strong religious sympathies, and a lot of girls boo and jeer her, “Notwithstanding, TUG Court is here both to entertain ourselves in but another manifestation of our love and to actually answer the question of whether those principles of love have been violated. Of course, we’ve already apologized, forgiven, and psychologically moved on in every case I’ve seen; rarely have any of us seen a scenario where a real rift occurred between members. Now, I’m not as good of friends with Kendra or Cassie as I am with Jenny or Hannah, but I still love them as my fellow humans and, most importantly, as my fellow Cool Girls. Today’s court has convened to determine if the defendant Hannah Larsson really violated those principles of love and friendship. If she did, we must also determine if she willfully did so or if she merely was ‘in the heat of the moment’ as the saying goes. Or, perhaps, we will conclude that she merely committed the described acts, but if she did so as a “CNC” scenario as described by Miss Palmeri then she did still commit the acts but within the principles of love and friendship. Ladies of the jury, do you understand that your purpose is to hear the testimonies from the witnesses presented in this case, determine the guilt of Miss Larsson, and determine a fitting punishment for her?”
In the back row of the jury, who are still standing at the moment, a hand raises in the back of the jury, and the girl is apparently short because I see her jumping in an attempt to be seen. All that is visible is a flash of brown-blonde hair and a bright blue bandana. I smile knowing who it has to be. I love that 5 foot nothing Napoleon.
“Your honor, if I may, I’ve got a question about this court,” Kendra pushes through the rest.
“You may proceed,” Nichole is quite stately about this.
“Aren’t there conflicts of interest all over the place in this game?”
“Of course, but we try to remain as neutral as possible. It’s more fun when we start letting our favoritism get the best of us. Do you wear your bandanas as tightly as Jenny wears hers?”
“Thanks, Nic’! Um… I never paid attention to Jenny, but I wear it pretty tightly.”
“Your honor or Judge Blakely,” the bailiff is on her period, “You squeezed your brains out!”
“Question!” Luisa asks since she’s a high schooler, “If Hannah did it lovingly is she guilty?”
“It becomes another issue altogether that we’ll address if necessary.”
“If she did it, she did it, and you’ll decide if she gets trussed or gets to truss,” Bridget interjects.
“I think we’ll tie up the bailiff as our piece of the action after this is done,” comes from the jury.
“Eat my dirty socks!” Bridget retorts as crossly as ever.
“Oh, I’ll make you eat mine!” Kendra comes back without any fear.
“Do me a favor,” Nichole smiles sweetly before slamming her gavel, “Sit down and shut up!”
The jury drops fearfully, and I squeeze up tightly against my attorney. I love Michela from the very depths of my heart. Without her love, I wouldn’t be here today, and she wouldn’t be here either without me. Those are very different scenarios, though. No one objects to her wrapping me in a tight hug as long as we’re not kissing. My cuddling is short-lived, though, because the judge then motions for the lawyers to approach her so she may give them their instructions on conduct. It’s in soft whispers with both nodding and giggling while getting their instructions. I sit back and take in the scene.
The court is taking place just off the campus of Minnesota Tech, where I and many of the girls here present are attending college. This is one of the so-called unofficial “sorority houses” of the school bondage sorority, which has an official house but two more that happen to be under lease to members of the sorority. This particular house is rented by, among others, two of my accusers, Cassie and Emilia, and they got clearance from their roommates to do this today.
I squirm in my chair a little and look at the red ball gag sitting on the paper towel, ready to go in my mouth again when necessary. It’s an interesting ball gag with two slots cut into the sides so the ball can be exchanged for another one while using the same strap. I spent about 30 minutes in that closet while waiting for people to get themselves organized after the first step, choosing Bridget as the bailiff, was completed. I indeed had chattered until she asked Cassie for a gag to stop me from talking any longer.
The outfit I am wearing is chosen on purpose. This is the kind of uniform we wore when I was in juvenile detention alongside Michela, Kendra, Kylie, Mary-Ann, and Ashley. It was back in November of 2012 that I was arrested, and what a journey it’s been to get me from there to being in this sorority house in March of 2016. All of my fellow inmates went through a journey, but a lot of us here who didn’t go through juvie also had a journey of their own. The beautiful part is how those events led to us all being the Cool Girls and (for some of us) sorority girls we are now.
Nichole booms, “This court is now in session!” and my trial is underway!
TO BE CONTINUED
CGC Short Stories (F+f+/F+f+): viewtopic.php?f=8&t=20527
Find my other CGC Stories in the same link above!
In her natural habitat is:
-Giddy when approached
-Passive when suspended
-Bratty when loose
-Obedient when cuddled
-Cheeky when gagged
-Truly happy when tickled
