My Greatest Battle (FF/FFF)

[AlexUSA3]

My Greatest Battle (FF/FFF)

My first summer home from college saw my mental health collapse. Big time. I went from the laughing Gangsta Queen to a laughing Gangsta Queen with a terrible coping mechanism. It was so strange for me because it was unlike me, and that’s why it caught everyone off guard that I, of all people, had this problem.

I took up cutting after I moved out of my parent’s house. The abuse had been too much, and the day that made me snap enough to leave made me snap for real. I have just chopped a nice line in my arm when this story begins. Downstairs, in the living room, my friends turned housemates Joy and Zoe are playing video games with our friend Hannah and Hannah’s girlfriend Michela.

Hannah and Michela were a cute couple, and, despite the fact that nearly all of Hannah’s “new” friends that she dragged around with her when she visited people had been her “podmates” when she was in prison, they were all good people. Michela was such a sweetheart that within months of her own release from juvie I was calling her my friend and was one of the three that approved her membership in the Cool Girls’ Club, or the CGC.

I put a bandage on my arm and then do what I have always done to hide wounds on my wrists, as I used to get lots from my father grabbing me before I moved out, and tie a pink bandana on my wrist. It looks natural. I’m already wearing black trainers and a black kerchief bandana with my pink t-shirt. No one will notice. Five years of being Joy’s friend, and I was this cocky? I had to change my shirt to get to this point because of the blood, and I thought no one would notice?

I cut myself because I hated myself. I started to convince myself that I was the problem, not my family, and that I deserved some form of abuse even if I convinced myself that they all truly had my worst intentions at heart (except my mom). It was a twisted pattern of thought, and it sprung out of me in this manner. I was an idiot and a fool.

I quietly return to the living room and sit down on a chair by myself. My colorful friends all are arranged in a line. It is a bright room with these four! Look at them! Michela has a pale orange denim miniskirt, a long-sleeve pin-stripe button-up shirt, and an orange bandana headband. She is countered in brightness by my darkness, perhaps. Hannah has her simple CGC colors: all blue trainers, bandana headband, and sleeveless t-shirt.

Then there are the Fredericks girls. Joy is also in CGC colors in these waning months before she became the modest girl we all know today. Purple trainers, a purple kerchief bandana, and a pink t-shirt are found there. Zoe is loud like Michela: bright blue trainers and a yellow tank top. She doesn't have a bandana as she likes being an interloper and standing out among us.

“You changed your shirt,” Joy casually observes.
“She cuts herself, too,” Hannah just as casually points out, “When did that start?”
“Say what?!” Joy pauses the game and jumps to her feet, “What did you just say?”
“Sh-t!” Hannah blurts out and stands up too, “I… didn’t know this was new.”
“What the heck makes you make such a horrible accusation?!” I try to seem offended by this.
“It’s Psychology 101. You know prison kids, you know someone who tried it.”
“F-ck you!” I shove her into Zoe, “What’d you blow my cover for, you b-stard!”
“Hey!” Zoe exclaims as Hannah falls onto her, “No violence!” she stands up.
“So, Nichole,” Michela then speaks so calmly it chills me, “Your daddy hurt you too, hmm?”
“How long indeed?” Joy asks, “I thought this was just a weird fashion statement from you.”

I moved out in mid-May, and it’s now June… four weeks for about 6 cuts? How am I supposed to tell the girls with whom I live that I was chopping myself to bleeding, on average, every four to five days? How did Hannah notice so quickly? Why did Michela react that way? Why, when I was stressed, did I want people I trusted to tie me up, spank me, and fondle my boobs and crotch as much as they liked?

Why do I take Michela by the arm and lead her to the bedroom I am currently sharing with Joy? I make the others stay behind; maybe it was because her daddy abused her too? What I do then I never did before: I tell someone in extreme detail what my father and brothers did almost daily when I was at home, and I confess my TUG, nay bondage, fantasies to her. She nods her head in understanding. She’d been through worse from her dad.

“Nichole, would you like me to tie you up and do some of that?” she asks me, “It’s therapeutic.”
“Michela,” I take off my shirt to reveal a pink bra and visible ribs, “Would you? Please? You… understand me.”
“Are Joy’s parents away?” she asks to be certain, “Like, can we do this in the living room?”
“Why can’t we do it here?” I ask her with agitation in my voice.
“Your sin is public; down there, you will feel the compassion from your friends.”
“All right,” I roll my eyes defiantly, “Yeah, the folks are gone for a couple of days. She’s on a quilting retreat, and he’s on a business trip.”
“Therapeutic bondage transformed both mine and Hannah’s lives,” she sounds so confident, “You need to reclaim your tits, girl! God gave you those for you to feed the babies he gives you and to get sexual pleasure from them, not for some pigs to fondle you as psychological abuse.”

I let Michela similarly take my hand. The Italian girl is so friendly, so sweet, so considerate, and so genuine that I have to trust her. She’s incapable of lying unlike Hannah or Joy, who might lie to try to keep a secret. This girl is good like Zoe, always honest and full of true love. Down the stairs we go to the family room where our friends await us. Joy might have silly qualms about Hannah and her friends, but I feel truly understood for once. Michela's words are true. I’m more than a thing that my father abused and discarded. I’m a unique person with her own personality and passions and friends and purpose. She says I’m a child of God, but I still hadn't reached the point of believing that.

When we enter the living room, soft whispers come to an end. Hannah wiggles her eyebrows at the sight of me; she trusts Michela explicitly. I feel like I am in good hands. Zoe is surprised to see me without my shirt, but she isn't disturbed at all. Joy squirms in her spot, though; I cannot wrap my brain around how judgmental she is! At Michela’s behest, I sit on a rolling chair; it's a basic cheap computer chair with a padded seat, no arms, a flexible back, and a hydraulic pump in the center

“You’ve been crying,” Hannah notices my cheeks are wet.
“I have? I didn't notice. We had a moment of bonding,” I rubbed my eyes.
“Now to be followed by binding,” quips Michela, who grabs a Minnesota Wild tote bag, “I miss playing hockey.”
“Maybe you can start again in college!” Joy suggests, “Why not?”
“Because it's been five years? I'm rusty,” she opens the bag and pulls out some clothesline.
“Baby, maybe you would find you’d be back to it in no time!” Hannah’s voice oozes affection.
“Why did he do it?” Michela asks us rhetorically, referring to her father abusing her.
“I ask myself a similar question every single day. Why?” I heavily sigh.
“I don't know,” Hannah responds confidently, “It doesn't matter anymore.”

Michela stands out among us at 5’9”. I’m just 5’4” like Joy and Hannah, and Zoe is 5’6”. The big girl is like a giant teddy bear, albeit a lesbian teddy bear who likes hugs perhaps a little bit too much when she gets them from certain people. She's scarred and is still trying to regain all the emotional processes she had to shut down to survive her abuse and then prison. That left her with only one emotion, lust, and it still occasionally shows during interactions with those she trusts but aren't as close to her as her prison friends or her immediate family.

I let Michela pull my wrists together behind the chair back to tie them. Crossed wrist ties are so comfortable, and this one is both comfortable and tight. Joy squirms a bit, and I realize she's in a brutal conflict with her own bisexuality. I couldn't care less if any of these three girls plays with me a bit as long as the playing is restricted to lips and hands. I never said it, but I figured I’d not need to go there.

Joy’s conflict isn't with me. It's with Michela and Hannah; she wants both of them. Joy’s such a hypocrite; she hates Michela for being a convicted felon but still wants to kidnap her for a rough sex session. Joy’s the only demonstrably bisexual girl of the three; I could guarantee she'd slept with a former high school boyfriend two days ago based on the buzz she had when she returned from a friend's house.

Michela dismantles my bra and exposes my front for my friends to see, and Zoe quickly draws the blinds and the curtains to block out the world and to make this private. I blush a lot when my boobs are brought out, and I can see that Hannah is quite in control of herself with no desires for me. On the other hand, Joy is becoming increasingly agitated and horny and bites her lower lip as a distraction against that burning lust she has for Hannah and Michela. The latter is all over it though.

“Lusting, Joy?” Michela calls her out, “Seeing Nichole makes you want to see what I look like?”
“Who? Me? No!” Joy obviously lies, “I’m thinking about Hannah though.”
“So that's why she's staring at you, and you're not noticing?” Michela has eagle eyes!
“Quit kidding yourself, sis,” Zoe wraps an arm around Joy, “It’d be easier for you if you would just admit you like girls even if not as much as boys.”
“She's just ashamed because I’m a convict and went to prison. Hannah said it was the same way last time she brought a friend here,” Michela drops big truth bombs.
“Joy, do you sincerely believe I won't love you for admitting you're bisexual?”
“OK!” she throws her hands up, “I am bisexual! Happy?”
“Yes!” Hannah says kindly, “You're accepting your condition! It doesn't matter how you got it! You don't have to act on it. Just accept that you have it.”

I do not know where this is going anymore, and I don't really care as long as there is no copulation, or, rather, fornication, happening behind open doors. I neither want to see it nor hear it, and neither does Zoe. Zoe feels as strongly about fornication as I do, which is ironic considering the looseness of her little sister. Michela is a very devout Roman Catholic… and shares a bed with Hannah.

My boobs are trussed up now, and Michela is tying my thighs together. My ankles are already tied. I see Joy shrinking and growing increasingly dejected. She has quietly pulled back onto the sofa and curled herself up into a tight ball. Joy’s greatest flaw is that she struggles to process her thoughts and feelings. I decide it's time to try to help her in my own way.

“Joy, would you like it if Hannah tied you up?” I ask her, “She’d gladly do it for you.”
“Actually,” she muses for a moment, “That would help me. You know I snap easily.”
“Hannah, it's amazing to see,” Michela grins, “good things come from our suffering.”
“I know,” Hannah brushes Joy’s hair aside, “I have rope, zips, and tape. Choose one.”
“Nichole is getting roped… so tape!” Joy cautiously decides and removes her shirt.
“Damn, Michela,” I turn to my captor, “You're getting zipped then!”
“Maybe Hannah! She's flexible enough!” the orange Italian cackles.

My ankles, knees, and thighs are now tied. A rope runs from my ankles to the pump in the center. I have my “tits out” as Hannah would say, and Michela now ties a waist rope to further secure my arms and torso to the back of the chair. I am going nowhere, and my therapist shows her knowledge of these situations.

“How did your father normally gag you?” she asks me, “It matters a lot.”
“A strip or two of duct tape or a cleave gag from a fabric scrap. It doesn't matter.”
“Are you sure? I still can't say the name of one of the gags my daddy used on me.”
“This part, I am. It's the contact that matters. Why are kink and abuse linked?” I look right into Michela's eyes.
“I,” she can't look at me now, “I know what you mean. I don't know why. Trauma. A need for control.”
“Joy’s super kinky, and she has no trauma at all.”
“We met a girl who’s like that, but she doesn't have Joy’s self-doubt.”

Zoe stands there like a proud big sister. She's overjoyed to see us all working together to help each other. I wish I could see from her straight, not terribly kinky, and trauma free eyes. I say not terribly kinky, but I’m not sure that's true considering she founded and leads her college’s bondage sorority. She's a more controlled kinkster though.

Joy starts to loosen up once Hannah has taped her wrists as well as either side of her now bare breasts. Joy’s turning 19 in just a few days, but she is quite well developed in her kinks. She's semi-naked; she's bisexual; and she's looking for action. Her fears of the convicts are either forgotten or assuaged; that or she’s too excited by being tied up.

This is my first true experience with serious adult bondage. That makes me the oddity in the room because Joy and Zoe have sorority experiences and Hannah and Michela have their own sexual relationship plus they are amateur bondage models and friends with some semi-professionals. I’m not sure what to expect now that Michela has me gagged with a blue rubber ball threaded with a red bandana; she knots the bandana behind my head and doesn't go easy on me either.

“Nichole, are you OK?” Michela asks me with her sweet expression, “Three snaps if you need something; five for an out.”
“Michela, I am really impressed by you. You’ve made something useful and good out of your past,” Zoe praised Michela, “You’d fit right in with the sorority.”
“Maybe she could start one at St. Catherine’s!” Joy suggests.
“It's a Catholic college, Joy; I really doubt that,” Hannah laughs at the suggestion.
“Is it a Catholic college, or a school run by little old priests?”
“It's historically an all girls school,” Michela smiles, “And run by nuns.”

Joy is now quite nicely taped. Her lower legs are taped from her ankles to her knees, and her thighs are taped from her knees to her waist. Her wrists have been crossed in an ‘X’ shape with a tight ‘+’ of the tape holding that in part in place. The tape covers more: a continuous strip starts at her neck and goes down to her waist with only her boobs exposed. Hannah takes some electrical tape to secure Joy’s big toes.

Joy gets a similar gag as I have. Her rubber ball is orange, and the bandana is purple like her shorts and bandana. After that, she also gets her face wrapped in seven more layers of duct tape. She is quite helpless, and now she gets to be the plaything of the girl who has a crush on her. OK, Hannah has a crush on nearly all of us.

“Here goes,” Michela says before she starts groping my breasts, “Firm tits, girl.”
“Mmmph,” I groan and feel a strange excitement inside me, “Mmmmm.”
“That's nice,” my captor smiles, “You're in control of yourself now.”
“Ohhhhh,” I wiggle about a little and enjoy that truth.
“Does it feel good?” she is firm and kind in her squeezes, “Liberating?”
“Mmm hmm,” I slowly nod and close my eyes to savor the moment.

Joy is having a much kinkier moment in her fondling. I open my eyes to see her roll her eyes in satisfaction after getting a kiss from Hannah. Hannah is squeezing Joy’s boobs in a much firmer manner and going for a rougher style. Their play is like that of the sorority: rope, gags, and anything that leads to sexual pleasure.

Then again, Michela is trying to arouse me as well. That's what I asked her to do. I have to follow through now! She's trying to fondle and grope me into sexual pleasure so that I feel the thrill of those actions and learn to enjoy them instead of forever being scared on account of the Blakely men. Michela, I know you find me attractive, but it's my breasts you're supposed to squeeze and not your own. Now that I look and actually pay attention, I see she’s grinning at none other than Zoe and thinking about bondage.

“So,” Michela looks at Zoe, “You run the sorority? Think you can control me? Maybe edge me until it hurts?”
“You have to take care of Nichole first,” Zoe doesn’t decline the offer.
“I’ve got her where I want her,” Michela professionally fondles me, “She’s cute enough to sleep with, but I’ve got more self-control than that.”
“Mmmm!” I feel a new sensation, and my eyes grow wide from the initial burn before I collapse in the chair with the heaviest sigh I’ve ever experienced.
“Did she just?” Hannah and Zoe ask at the same time.
“Orgasm? Heck yeah!! That’s the thrill of being a woman, Nichole.

I am completely overwhelmed by this and slump over as much as the bondage permits me. She’s really taking care of me in a touching way, and my lungs heave for about 30 seconds before I am able to look up at her and express my gratitude. She did well; It felt good; I like it; I cannot stop her from doing it. She could start kissing my face for her pleasure, and I can’t help it. The best part is that it happened on terms to which I agreed and was done to make me happy. She cannot spank me though because of how I am tied, but that is what I truly desire. Another time.

Looking at Joy and Hannah is wild. They’re as close to fornication as the circumstances allow them. Hannah is sensually kissing Joy and fondling her breasts and crotch. They’re stretched out on the sofa with Joy on her back and Hannah between Joy and the cushions on the back of the sofa. The groan Joy lets out is much louder, to my surprise, and she pushes her body high into the air, at least high relative to her bondage.

“Oh, I go even higher than that!” Michela says, “You should rope me up real tight and see!”
“What makes you so comfortable with me?” Zoe puts her hands on her hips.
“I saw the hurt in your and your sister’s eyes when I outed Nichole,” explains the Italian.
“Is this some sort of,” Zoe is slow and pensive, “love language of yours?”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Hannah says while Michela looks crestfallen at Zoe’s question, “She struggles to find ways to express herself still. It’s so cute. She’s trying to say she sees you as her friend and trusts you.”
“Aw,” Zoe’s so kind, “You’re one of those girls who feels safest when tied up by her friends.”
“Mmm hmm,” the big girl nods.

Michela is blushing and shuffling her feet while looking at the floor. Her hands are behind her back with her alternating which hand is clasping the other wrist. That now familiar prison stance is mesmerizing and disappointing at the same time. It’s a security blanket for those girls, but it’s sad that life led them to develop that particular security blanket.

The big girl is a walking tragedy. I have met many likable people, but she is so easy to love in a strong way. I watched her grow more comfortable with each succeeding encounter over the past five months. Now, she’s but another Cool Girl, and she really embodies what it means to be one.

“So, do you regret not coming to my party last month?” Hannah teases Joy.
“I told her she should go, and she’s expressed regret about it for sure,” Zoe says.
“I think the past few weeks have seriously changed her opinions about us Bondagettes of Pod F.”
“Mmm hmm,” Joy nods a bit sadly and looks at Hannah with a sensual stare.
“OK, beautiful,” Hannah resumes her vamping of the girl.
“All right, hockey star, let’s rock and roll,” Zoe declares and takes Michela’s bag, “I’ll strip you as I wish, got it?”
“No problem,” the big girl has that same grin even while still embarrassed.

Zoe prefers a thinner white rope than the clothesline that Michela adores. Zoe is a professional even if she learned about rope games only a day after her little sister. She takes out a coil of the one-quarter inch material and boxties Michela’s wrists behind her back. Michela smiles with an unusual confidence, a smirk unlike anything else I’ve seen.

I keep going back to Joy because she has a personal battle going as well. She has these fears of the prison girls, unfounded fears that prevent her from welcoming them not only into her life but also into the Cool Girls’ Club. Hannah is a professional at vamping Joy, and the captive girl is growing to appreciate it. Is that a vibrator? Wow, are Hannah and Michela kinky girls, but then again the vibrator sounds fun to me.

We have gone from me cutting myself to playing kinky games at the sorority house, it seems. I am OK with this; I have found a soul like my own in Michela Palmeri. Now, she needs to detoxify herself after helping me with my problems. I feel much better; I also am not naïve and know that I won't magically lose the urge to hurt myself. It's a good thing I moved in here instead of with my best friend.

Boxtie, harness, and a crotch rope under Michela's skirt are a good start. Rope ties her ankles, knees, and upper and lower thighs as well. Onto her knees goes Michela, and a rope runs from her ankles, around the harness, and to the crotch rope. For a strong keeping of the theme, Michela gets an orange rubber ball gag threaded with a black bandana. Seeing the buzzer in Michela’s bag, Zoe gladly sets that against the lovable girl’s crotch to make her happy.

“Mmmmm,” Michela groans sweetly when the vibrator begins working on her.
“I like you, Michela,” Zoe is unusually expressive, “You're a good person.”
“Awwww,” the big brown eyes seem to fade away a bit, and I sense an interior strife.
“Mmmmm!” I thrash to get Zoe’s attention.
“Oh, don't get jealous!” she says to me.
“See why I fell in love with her?” Hannah asks with a hopeful smile.
“I do. I see why she fell in love with you, too,” Zoe’s words are so kind.

Hannah and Michela have been through so much both together and alone. It's not any real wonder that the lust drives them both to a blank, uncertain state. For a long time, this was the only emotion they had that had never hurt them, lust for fellow females. I understand their perspective too well despite having a man with whom I am regularly exchanging texts and phone calls. Men hurt them, and men hurt me.

Michela is writhing in an interesting way on the floor, and she seems excited by buzz in her crotch. Joy is also enjoying a buzzer, but she's getting fondled and kissed by Hannah. Now I am getting perfectly fondled by Zoe; she really knows how to grab my boobs. Why are women better at fondling women than men? Well, I cannot say if this is accurate because my experience is in sexual abuse. I can't ask Joy, either.

“Mmmph!” I squirm a bit while Zoe plays with me.
“Nice boobies, friend,” Zoe taunts my helplessness.
“Oooohhhhhh,” Michela loudly contorts herself in orgasm; it is a huge arch indeed!
“Mmmmmm!” Joy repeats her prior small arch.
“We have three hotties in distress!” Hannah laughs.
“That's your opinion!” Zoe agrees, “For you, hotties; for me, TUG buddies.”
“Our TUG buddies are also hotties.”

That orgasm feels good, and Zoe and Hannah decide that my new understanding with Michela should be celebrated in a fitting manner. I am detached from the chair and laid on the floor next to the Italian. Zoe hogties me in a similar fashion, and she opens Michela’s shirt and bra to expose her boobs. She takes the vibrator away from Hannah and attaches it to me just like the other one is attached to Michela.

“You two have 15 minutes to get out. If either one of you fails to get out in time, you will both be kidnapped and spanked,” Zoe explains her rules, “Go!”
“Mmmmm!” Michela and I are both enjoying things.
“Joy, my love,” Zoe takes a protective hold of her sister, “Is Michela such a bad girl?”
“Nuh uh,” Joy nods with regret and then looks at Hannah.
“I’m proud of you for coming out of the closet instead of lying to yourself.”
“Awww,” the captive sheds a tear at the kindness of the sister who so passionately protects her.
“Let’s get you out of this now,” Zoe grabs her safety scissors.

Michela and I look at each other and tandem arch or something. This is my introduction to orgasm, and the girl who is helping me seems strangely comforted by it all. We now have to help each other escape our bonds. It would probably be too easy if we weren’t hogtied, but we still make a quick job of things. I have so much experience with escaping bondage, and she does too in a mix of tragic and heartwarming ways.

We get each other out with ease, in 9 minutes, albeit interrupted by Michela orgasming one last time before she earns her freedom. The gags come out, and I sit on the floor hugging my new confidante. Something special happened between me and Michela Palmeri that day. We’ve now known each other for a few months, but this was the day that Michela made the leap from being a Cool Girl to truly being an integrated part of the Club.

We’re crying. We both went from having happy lives as children to having our fathers turn on us in deplorable ways. We understand each other’s suffering, and I realize that suffering will never go away forever. We must carry these horrors with us until our dying breaths; we can receive and give comfort though.

“Michela, the Cool Girls’ Club didn’t realize this at the time they admitted you, but you’re a real treasure to this group of girls,” I say while we embrace.
“We were misfits,” she sniffs back some of her tears, “And now we found where we fit.”
“I’m a misfit, too,” I rub my eyes, “Indeed, we fit.”
“Michela, will you forgive me?” Joy sheepishly asks her, “Would you like a kiss?”
“I would like a kiss,” Michela grins, “And of course I forgive you. Come here.”
“Mmmmmm!” Joy and Michela lock lips in an adorable manner.

Joy and I both struggled with personal conflicts. It would be a long time before we were 100% confident in ourselves, but we had taken the first major leaps in getting there. I was adjusting to life after escaping my abuse, and Joy was accepting her sexuality. We both benefited on this occasion from the two girls who knew the struggles of overcoming your past.

THE END

[LunaDog]

Utterly superb, my friend. There's REAL emotion and feelings described here.

[AlexUSA3]

Utterly superb, my friend. There's REAL emotion and feelings described here.

That's my goal! I try to make the people and situations feel real, like you're sitting there as a witness to a story being told or unfolding. You will find that in all of the CGC stories.