The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 10 Chapter 2 (Apr. 29, 2024)

Post by **hafnermg** » 2 weeks ago

Excellent!! B!!

Post by **Caesar73** » 2 weeks ago

Post by **Lucky Lottie** » 2 weeks ago

B for me.

A lovely chapter. Really fantastic story beats

Post by **LunaDog** » 2 weeks ago

If you can't beat them, join them! 'B' for me too.

Post by **AlexUSA3** » 2 weeks ago

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

"B" wins in a landslide. Well, too bad, you get "H" in Story 10, like it or not!

Story 9 Chapter 1: Birthday Love

March 18, 2015

“Happy birthday,” Michela was awake when I opened my eyes.
“Thank you,” I smiled at her.
“You're an old lady. You are 19 already?” she kissed me on the cheek.
“You know what I want for my birthday?”
“Knowing you, you want to be tied up and have me tease you,” she kissed me again.
“You prove your love more and more every day,” I blushed.
“Wait until you see your birthday present.”
“No no no no no nooooo! Saturday, my dear.”
“It makes me sad that we spent our 17th’s together but not our 18th’s.”

That night, we did just that. It's too dirty and long of a tale to tell here.

This was the first birthday where it felt like life really mattered, but I did something I had wanted to do and hadn't done. You want to talk about a broken heart? It had been over 2 years since I had last seen my mom and dad, and this was the first time I cried about it. Rather than wallow in misery, I went out to breakfast with Michela, went to class, went to lunch with Grandma, went back to class, went to work, and got bound, gagged, and tortured by Michela.

Yes, I had lunch with Grandma. It had been a year since I’d last seen her, and I felt so bad for how I mistreated her after my release. I felt an odd strength inside me; it was a moment that made me believe in the divine. Something more powerful than me told me to call Grandma.

We both cried and hugged before going into the restaurant. I missed her so much, and I do not know why I hid from the only person who knew me before and still wanted to love me unconditionally. I was so glad to be with her again, and she with me. I have never let anything separate us since.

“Grandma,” I said between tears, “To get the sad stuff out of the way, let me tell you about the great-grandson you almost had.”

That baby still bothers me to this day. Yes, I would have been a drug-slinging Mom with a worthless incarcerated father, if he hadn't murdered the poor thing as part of my execution sequence, but my life would have been very different. Most likely, I would have moved back in with my grandmother then.

► Show Spoiler

March 19, 2015

The most delicious day of my life was this day as I learned who St. Joseph was and what he meant to an Italian family. I couldn't believe it; Michela made the famous dessert, the zeppole, for us to enjoy. They were freaking good and heavy and creamy and delicious. I had a promise to keep though.

Nothing is like eating authentic food, getting immersed in a culture, and being jolly all around the way Michela's family was. I still had work and class, but I made memories with the Palmeri's, memories I still cherish. It was a hard day for Michela, though. It wasn't until Mom Palmeri explained that I understood: he is Mr. Joseph Palmeri.

“Ashley, the girl in pink, I brought Michela too! What's the news?”
“I got my GED! I never would have pushed except I remembered you two pushing!”
“Sweet! Congratulations, kiddo!” I peered into her almost dead eyes.
“Ash, you’ll be out soon. Don't give up,” Michela cheered her on.
“Someday, I’ll tell you what happened,” she whispered, “I remember all but none.”
“Stay with me, kid,” I tried to talk her back to reality, “I’m sorry.”
“I miss my mom and dad… You being here today means the world to me,” life returned.
“We're all hurting in some way except Kylie; we love you,” Michela smiled.
“I love you girls! Anyway, let me tell you about this new girl…”

So we sat and talked the time away until it was time to leave. I left that day feeling that, as long as I visited regularly, Ashley was going to make out better than Michela or me. She had the love and support on the outside that the rest of us lacked.

A big thing happened on this day: I changed my phone number. Hannah Larsson the drug dealer was a thing of the past.

March 20, 2015

“Hannah, I sent Michela out after I saw you’d be home,” Mom Palmeri said to me.
“Uh oh,” I worried she was about to end my relationship with Michela, “What’s up?”
“I'm still concerned about Michela. She's still got no motivation. The only thing that seems different for her now is where she's living her prison routine and what she's got on her when she does it. Has she ever confided anything to you that maybe I could,” she paused for a moment to choke on her tears, “use to help her?”
“Momma P., I struggle too. Every emotion she had up to the point she fired the gun is dead. She still maintains the same opinions of people, but she doesn't know the right way to express it anymore. Even when we're out with friends, she sometimes stops to stare at the wall and goes vacant. It happened just last week. I have too many loose screws to be asking. We're only comfortable with what's happened since the things that made us the shells you see.”
“So that's why you can love your friends and each other and me, Luisa, and Sofia?”
“Kind of,” I tried so hard to convey my own emotions for this family, “Michela does not talk about much besides you three and hockey. She thinks she's a reject since no one from school or the hockey team ever visited or wrote to her while she was inside.”
“I see,” Mom was thoughtful, “Michela never told me that had happened.”
“Imagine a normal 14 year-old girl and all she thinks and feels. Now, tabula rasa, wipe it all out of her. Wipe the slate clean like your husband did when he did what he did. Michela did the right thing by standing up for herself because she feared for your lives. That girl,” I burst into tears, “loves you so much that she basically threw her life away and went to prison for you, Luisa, and Sofia, so that you would be safe from that monster.”

Now it all made sense to Mom Palmeri. We sat on the sofa hugging and crying until Luisa came downstairs from doing homework because she heard us. She and Sofia were too young to appreciate the gravity of what was happening, and they were still too young to understand anything more than that their father was a psycho and that the big sister they worshiped would never be the girl she was before it all happened.

My explanation made things make sense to Mom. She understood enough to imagine a little girl, now seeing all those teenage and childish perspectives of love, beauty, and goodness being crushed until she was just a soul in a body, and then putting that body in prison for nearly four years as punishment for doing what she knew was the right thing. Naturally, the girl would develop an affinity for the person who shared a room with her and showed her kindness. What really sealed the deal for Michela that I was the girl she loved was when I acted like her by facing Clarissa Sanchez. It must have been the moment Michela knew she had truly done the right thing since everyone else in the Pod, even Mrs. Copley, praised my actions. If my self-defense was good, then how infinitely better was her self-defense!

Michela loved me. She wasn't just an empty teenager who was responding to the new emotions of eros and lust; that was just the only way she knew how to express it. She, Michela, loves me just like she loves mother and sisters. She was expressing it in a different way with me. I finally appreciated just how special I was to her. From a sad conversation came a beautiful realization.

► Show Spoiler

March 21, 2015

“Michela!” I heard a familiar voice as we entered the Moreau's, “That means Hannah is coming too!”
“Yes, it does!” I entered behind my friend and immediately we were hugged.
“Joyce, you are such a happy girl!” I returned the embrace.
“It's not enough to have fun and get paid; I get to spend the time with good people.”
“A couple of jailbirds? Good people? I ruined more lives than…”
“Stuff it. Listen to me. You're good people, and you're sorry for your mistakes,” she retorted wisely and turned to Michela, “Is she always Napoleonic like her stature and headband want me to believe?”

I bursted into laughter and, since she was only an inch taller than me, gave her a kiss on the cheek. Joyce blushed a little, and I realized my kiss was a bit too sexualized. I blushed too and looked at Michela, who shook her head, grinned a little, and wagged a finger of disapproval before playing with her outfit a little as if she'd dressed just for the “instant wood” factor on my end.

Then I turned and saw the haughty boss b-tch Cassie and the gorgeous Emilia. Cassie didn't get f-cked hard enough by her partners, and Emilia was a good girl. Innocence and pride were an interesting mix for real, and Emilia seemed to maintain a charming naïvety about this enterprise. Joyce knew what it was about, but her words about this being both good money and good fun were honest. Fun was being a b-tch back to the Boss B-tch, fondling Joyce and Michela, and teasing Emilia.

Michela's eyes were fixated on Emilia, though. What Joyce was for me, Emilia was for Michela, I guess. I didn't know. On her worst days, Michela’s love for fettuccine was indistinguishable from her love for bondage grinding with me. I decided to wait and see what my adorable girlfriend did without me by her side.

“You look cute,” Michela said, “What brought you back here?”
“It was so much fun last time. I liked the people as much as the work.”
“Well, thank you,” Michela blushed and sat down, “Did you know bondage before college?”
“I had never even heard of it; I like doing it to destress especially after nasty homework.”
“I wouldn’t know,” my girlfriend looked away, “I can’t go to college.”
“What?!” I heard both Emilia and Joyce say, and Joyce gasped.

I had to explain to Joyce that Michela was a convict; she already knew from hanging around with Jenny and Nichole. Unlike me, Michela was a felon, and her record remained intact to haunt her to the grave. I could tell Joyce was hurt by this; she strangely cared about my ragtag crew who’d been rejected by society.

I was surrounded by dolls and such, almost all of whom were in their own personal outfits. Odd to say, but this was the only time even I was wearing my own personal clothes for a scene. Boss B-tch had a vertically striped button-up, in the style of Michela’s beloved shirt, featuring pastel blues and yellows and such, a woolen business skirt, and black heels. Emilia wore a denim mini skirt, a pastel blue tank top, and white heels. I had a denim skirt I wore higher than necessary and my new blue thickly banded sweater, and a cool, icy blue bandana headband. Joyce’s shirt was similar to the Boss B-tch’s but brighter, she had a pastel yellow denim skirt, and white heels with her held by her beloved hair pins. Michela had a ruffled brown miniskirt, a brown argyle sweater, and a white bandana headband that had green and yellow dots all over the field of white. Yes, that’s in alpha order by name! We all had hose except Joyce, who had white ankle socks, and Michela’s hose was white. A few of us had our skirts hiked up to show more leg.

I wanted to screw all of them, even the Boss B-tch. Joyce especially though was the girl of my dreams as far as looks went. Italian, Spanish, Slavic: this Swede did not discriminate on any ethno-European lines at least. Let’s just say my list of female sexual partners in my life is quite a bit longer than the list of male ones. Joyce though…

“Hannah,” she saw through me, “It’s OK to be attracted to me, but please don’t stare.”
“I’m sorry,” I didn’t realize I was staring at her because I was shifting between her and Michela.
“Look, it’s charming, but…,” she struggled for the right words, “I’m not exploring that depth of my kink with someone I barely know.”
“I…,” I knew I’d made things awkward now, “Didn’t mean to be like that, Joyce.”
“I’m not into girls, but bondage is about fun. Maybe someday I’ll let you… control me,” a smirk formed on her lips.
“Thanks,” I looked into her friendly eyes, “The last man I had hurt me.”
“How about I get to tie you up this time?”

Joyce kindly rubbed my back until the Moreau’s reminded us there was work to be done even if visiting was nice. She still wanted to be my friend. She saw something in me no one else did: a victim of someone else’s… Greg’s… decisions.

► Show Spoiler

“My beauty, you are helpless. I was a girl scout. Every outing in the woods from when I was 13 usually saw some kind of rope games involving human subjects whether we were practicing our diagonal lashing or tying logs together or whatever else it may be,” Joyce smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s comfortable at least!” I looked at her while sitting on a chair.
“Now, I asked around before we came out today, and I brought something just for you.”
“Oh, dear,” I saw Joyce holding a pair of worn socks, “Are those for me?”
“They’re not for your girlfriend,” she said, “And I can do this with the others any time.”
“Might as well,” I couldn’t hide from Joyce, it seemed, “Ahhhh!”

This made a great start to things, for sure, as Joyce one at a time layered strips of double-sided tape over my lips before she took my bandana and used it to tightly OTM gag me in that way I found so arousing. This film somehow was less about betrayal and naughty b-tches and more about a strange friendship. My arms and legs were Joyce’s logs; three ropes tied my arms in the tightest bondage I had experienced since Greg’s murder attempt; three also tied my legs. There was a professional and basic harness with ropes on either side of my tits and between my arms and my chest.

“Now, remember, I have kidnapped you… act as if you’re just waking up from chloroform.”

Let the film begin! I acted as if I had been merely placed on the chair and am sleepy and looked straight ahead. I blinked a few times and slowly looked down to see my trussed up legs and tits in the clothesline. I turned to the right and looked up to my left to see Joyce proudly standing next to Steve. I realized these were my hostage photos.

I twisted my arms to pull at the harness and let out a groan of frustration. I twisted about on the chair and started groaning more frequently while grabbing at that tit harness. I tried reaching to the other side of my body and picked at the rope on my thighs. That girl scout was good!

I pulled my legs up to try to reach my ankle ropes from behind, but I couldn’t twist enough in the denim skirt! I let out the loudest groan I’d probably let out in a scene and glanced toward Joyce, who proudly stood with crossed arms. I let my heels clack on the floor and leaned as far forward as I could, pushing my tits into my thighs, and I wailed quite loudly. I then rocked back to tuck my legs into my chest while sitting on that chair.

“Sweetie, aw, do you know who did this?” Joyce ran over to me.
“Nmmmm!” I shook my head as if I didn’t know her.
“I did, honey! You see, that guy you slept with the other night was my husband,” she squeezed my cheek.
“Huh?!” I squealed knowing Marcy was filming us, “Noooo!”
“Yes, you did, you little harlot, and now I’m going to let you suffer!” she smiled and giggled.
“No no! Uggghhh!” I retched on the flavor of Joyce’s feet.
“Oh, those socks in your mouth? Those are mine! Anyway, soon, I will knock you out again, but this time I’m going to put you to sleep forever!” she acted like it was a game, “And you will never ruin another marriage!”
“Hleathe nooo!” I begged her.
“Shouldn’t have been a husband-stealing wh-re, should you?” she kissed me on the forehead, “I was a girl scout for 12 years; you’ll never escape! Bye bye!”

Joyce almost skipped away like she was a demonic little kid from a horror novel.

► Show Spoiler

“GMMM!” my life was in the balance.

I was quite viciously bound, as the photos show, and I looked around me and wailed the loudest I had wailed quite likely since my execution. Pulling at the harness did nothing. I still couldn’t reach my heels. Joyce skipped over and turned my legs to face forward with another batch of her sadistic giggles.

Facing forward I yelled some more and looked at my legs and then at Steve. I clacked my heels on the floor and leaned forward while grunting and wailing. I was shaking my legs with tons of aggression in the hopes of walking at least so that I had some chance to escape this maniac that was preparing me to die. My legs were everywhere, including on top of the chair at one point, and my wails became increasingly despondent with time before I let out a big arch in what you see as the last of the photographs. That had to be the last one because I orgasmed and turned away from the camera. I never orgasmed without stimulation, so this had to be really good.

“Hi, captive!” Joyce pranced back with that same gaiety, “How would you like to die?”
“No! Hleathe! Ah’m horry! -ohn’h hill he!”
“Aw, you’re afraid to die, aren’t you?” she frowned a little as if she felt bad.
“Mmm hmm!” I nodded and looked into her eyes.
“Those scout knots are awfully tight, aren’t they?” she felt bad, “I was maybe rough on you.”
“Mmmm!” I agreed, “Hleathe! Ah’ll -ever ho ih a-ain!”
“Sorry, baby, smell this?” she held a red bandana up to my nose: water.
“Hleck!” I turned away from it as it were poison.
“That’s chloroform. Enough to kill you,” she smiled again, “Shouldn’t have screwed my man!”
“NOOOOOOOO!” the bandana was knotted over my nose quite tightly.
“See you in hell, b-tch!” she tossed me to the floor, spanked me on the butt, and walked away.
“CUT! That was beautiful improvisation, Joyce!” Marcy smiled.
“Thank you!” she curtsied, “But she was the real star.”
“Heh heh!” I was even more interested in Joyce than I was before… as a real friend.

It was the beginning of one of the greatest friendships I have ever had outside my prison circle. I suffered so much alongside Joyce as she went through a nightmare where she lost everything: her innocence and her parents, all in an 8 month window. There were several times where Joyce just burst into tears and buried herself against me. How this worked out will make sense later. I just wish I’d been there when Joyce got her Ph.D., but circumstances prevented me from being there in person even if I was there with her in spirit.

► Show Spoiler

“You were amazing!” Michela hugged me when the gag was off.
“Thanks. These scout knots are genuinely tight! Joyce, you are amazing!” I grinned at her.
“Thank you! Perhaps we should let another of us knotty girls prove her mettle?” Joyce asked.
“Michela, how about a kiss while I’m still helpless before I’m free?”
“Like this,” her lips met mine in an erotic manner, and I awkwardly groaned, “How was that?”
“Perfect. Now get me out because I want to see what each of these sorority girls has to offer.”

To this end we agreed. Emilia would tie Michela; I would tie both the Boss B-tch and Emilia; the Boss-Bitch would tie Joyce. To this end, I decided that Cassie would be next to be tied. To my frustration, Boss B-tch was eager to be tied by me again; she loved being tied by me on their last visit! She said I showed no mercy just like the other sorority girls, and Emilia said that she’d enjoyed it so much that she laid in the backseat on the way home and orgasmed from recalling all the fun of being tied up by me!

Humiliation was Cassie’s top kink. At school, she liked dressing up like this and getting tied up, exposed, and forced to do silly tasks for her captors’ entertainment or being used as a pleasure toy for her captors. Emilia recalled a recent adventure where Cassie had been tied up and forced to rub her face against another girl’s crotch until orgasm. The thought made me warm, and I felt like a hypocrite. I hated her guts; but I wanted her to rub my until I orgasmed.

“Let’s do the cheesecake first,” I suggested, “Show off that bust and those legs!”
“I love cheesecake!” Michela misunderstood the term, “My maternal grandma makes the best!”
“One of our sorority sisters made the best cheesecake for a birthday party!” Emilia joined her.
“That was sooo good!” Boss B-tch recalled that time.
“My mom makes a fantastic Sicilian cheesecake with ricotta cheese!” Joyce piled it on.
“That’s not what cheesecake means. It means the photos where you’re just sitting there looking like a queen before or after the bondage.”

Cassie hadn’t been nearly as much of a pain in my neck this time, and she had no problem with flashing a smile for the camera while she knelt on the camera upstairs in the living room instead of in the basement where my scene had been filmed. She had nice gams once you paid attention to something besides her personality. To the disruption of my peace, she seemed happy with the cheesecake shots.

Nothing rope can’t fix, I thought. I’d crush her wrists together behind her back, tie a harness that could never get off her tits. Three for her legs would certainly ensure she’d not have a good time with me in control and not want more from Tied After Class, I thought. For good measure there was a nice pair of socks stuffed in her mouth with strips of duct tape holding her lips shut. I saw the fear in her eyes; it had to be real, right? I was getting her goat, right?

I couldn’t be more wrong on so many levels.

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Which will Hannah do to Cassie?

(A) Hogtie her
(B) Spank her
(C) Expose her

Post by **Kinky_boi** » 2 weeks ago

Post by **silvertejp590** » 2 weeks ago

Post by **hafnermg** » 2 weeks ago

Post by **johopp** » 2 weeks ago

First C, then - when she is exposed - B.

Post by **harveygasson** » 2 weeks ago

Post by **AlexUSA3** » 2 weeks ago

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

Since you responded so eagerly, I have to accept your clamoring for "C" and have Hannah expose Cassie!

Story 9 Chapter 2: The Monster Inside Me

It's so twisted. I hated Cassie. I also wanted to expose her tits, spank her, and force her to eat my carpet until I orgasmed and even eat her carpet. She had such a great expression too. She was so innocent and scared while she was acting for a scene. She was as cute as the cheesecake shots showed, but I felt that cute face hid a rat. She let out the most pitiful squeals and moans of distress while struggling, too. That harness was absolutely perfect for her tits.

Her performance was admirable, but I hate her too much to really appreciate it. There were even things for me to learn in her acting. but I was missing it all. I felt only two things: lust and hate. I hated that haughty spirit, but I did lust for those legs, the botox tits, and those seemingly eyes.

As she scooted around the chair, I focused on the body, not the soul. I had deprived myself of the best part of bondage modeling: meeting new people. I took the chair away so she'd have to hop around, and I think I did it more so I could study her body in a fresh context. What a body.

“Hannah, are you thinking of her… in a… sexual way?” Michela asked me.
“We both look at Kylie that way,” I said to her while eyeing Cassie, “Is that bad?”
“That's inviting Kylie for a threesome. You’re just being kind of wh-rish right now.”
“Me?! It's whorish to have dirty thoughts about Cassie or Joyce. but it's not wh-rish to screw Kylie?!” I walked into the kitchen and got angry.
“Yes!” Michela started crying, “A threesome is by mutual agreement! You're looking at her like you want to hurt her!”
“It's only a bondage thing, Michela! I only love you, but yes I do want to screw her.”
“That's not OK,” Joyce remarked, “Michela loves you and opened her home to you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn't know that it's not OK,” I became defensive in my stance.
“You,” Emilia joined in, “have no moral compass for a person who deep down inside can be such a sweet girl.”
“It's OK, Hannah,” Michela spoke calmly, “To want to play and have fun. But you are lusting after Cassie in a bad way. I’m fine with your feelings for Kylie and Joyce, but you genuinely hate Cassie so much you want to f-ck her body to f-ck up her mind.”
“Moving the goalposts? A little thing for Joyce or Kylie is OK but not for Cassie?!”
“You know I believe our relationship is sinful,” Michela stood up, “There's a massive difference in this case. You just want Cassie’s body, not Cassie. You want to enjoy a kinky time with Joyce on mutual terms, but you're thinking in terms of r-pe with that girl over there. I can morally justify mutually enjoyed kink; I cannot justify this. Hannah, my mom is fine with me being in a lesbian relationship with you, but neither she nor I will tolerate you if you’re going to be morally bankrupt like this.”

► Show Spoiler

I looked at Michela and then the Boss B-tch. She was right though. When I lusted for Joyce or Kylie, I was thinking in terms of having mutual fun with them. Michela was beyond a bondage buddy; we were significant others and sexual partners. Cassie was nothing but a f-ck toy to me; she was subhuman in my eyes.

Seeing Cassie’s busty form begging for help was arousing in a bad way. Watching her throw off her heels didn't endear me to her. I only wanted the body. Worse, my desire to force feed her my carpet was indeed accompanied by the thought of her much more brutally bound and gagged, naked, and crying as if it was nonconsensual. I was a monster. I had imagined qualities in her that I loathed in myself, and I was using her as the effigy by which to do the horrors that I felt I deserved to suffer. Instead, I tried looking into her eyes, and I saw someone different from the girl I hated.

“I’m sorry, Michela. I'm sorry. I’m no better than Greg or your dad.”
“You're better to me; I saw it in your eyes once we said it was wrong.”
“If you believe our relationship is sinful, why do you share a bed with me?”
“Because I do love you, and I am truly sexually attracted to you. Right now, we need each other in a strange way, and I think our sexual activity is less sinful than the sins we’d commit otherwise. But I need you to at least be moral, because I can’t have you hurting my sisters. They mean more to me than you, just like deep down inside Grandma means more to you than I do.”
“You mean you have your priorities straight, but I have only some of mine straight.”
“You do,” Michela took my hand, “I see a beautiful flower waiting to blossom.”
“Like Mary-Ann tying me up to force feed me to Kylie isn't…”
“That's kink. That's an expression of personality and uniqueness in a mutually agreed environment. Female sexuality is very different from male.”
“You’ve studied and thought about this a ton,” Joyce looked at Michela, “Impressive.”
“Hannah, why do you hate Cassie?” Michela put me on the spot.

Me? I did hate Cassie, and I’d never thought of my sexual urges as expressions of it; I had been hurt through sex. That moment haunted me every day of my life so much I now was thinking in terms of using sex to hurt someone. That meant something that was so awful it sent shivers down my spine: Greg hated me. I wasn't any better than he. It all made sense in the context of borderline personality disorder though. I had a distorted view of life, and it had to come to an end. Now.

“You’re a passionate girl,” Joyce observed me with disapproval, “but a hypocrite.”
“What do you mean?!” I asked with dismay at her statement.
“You show different personalities with different people. With Michela, you're soft and vulnerable and open, and now I see it. You want to be friends with me and Emilia, so you're nice to us.
“I can’t take this,” I started walking towards the bathroom.
“No way, Hannah,” Michela blocked my path, “She sees through you like I do. We love you.”
“OK, you got me. Out with it,” I crouched down, leaned forward, and fluffed my hair to hide my tears, “I want to be good like you girls, but I…”
“No hiding,” Joyce got under me, “You’re a good girl, but for a girl who was harshly judged and is constantly feeling like the world unfairly judges her you sure judged Cassie and did everything in your power to try to force her to fit your narrative. You have an ugly perspective.”
“I’m sorry. I did. I thought Cassie was a pretentious haughty b-tch, and once I decided that I set out to prove myself right,” I surrendered and collapsed to my knees, wrapping my arms around Michela’s legs.
“You were haughty and pretentious before your humbling experiences, weren’t you?” Joyce had me in the corner, “And then you were humbled a bit by prison only to wind up getting way more of a humbling then you needed when your boyfriend tried to kill you. You saw the same flaws in my friend, or thought you did, and set out to give her a merciless humbling just like you got even though you know you were unfairly overcompensated for your faults. You're seeking goodness, have found the goodness you believe in, and refuse to accept where it comes from.”

How did she pierce my soul like this? I hated myself indeed, at least my old self, and in trying to wipe out the old me from my life instead of embracing my past mistakes, I was wiping out those who reminded me of me. I’d been a monster to Cassie in their eyes while also successfully being one of the greatest bondage thrills Cassie had ever experienced. All I’d done was make myself a big jerk to the people I wanted to like me. In trying to squash the monster I’d seen in Cassie, I’d been the monstrous past me I loathed and wanted to squash. Yes, I have found it, and after 16 years of being raised to hate it I couldn't accept where the answers to my questions lay.

► Show Spoiler

“Hannah, I still love you,” Michela gave me a kiss on the lips, “You owe Cassie an apology.”
“I know,” I sniffed, “I’m sorry to both of you as well. I’m always hiding myself out of shame. And I’m not controlling my sexual desires.”
“Why don’t you be like Michela? If she’s uncomfortable, she just keeps quiet,” Joyce suggested.
“Because I’m more naturally a piece of sh-t that deserved to be duct taped and r-ped and left in a dirty, dusty, dark basement and left to starve to death, that’s why!” I really believed my words, “Look at me thinking awful things about Cassie!”
“Aren’t you glad you got a second chance at life? That Casey, Jenny, and Nichole gave you a second chance at being a Cool Girl? That Michela sought you out for a second chance at love? Hannah, aren’t you grateful for it? Or are you that bitter about the past that you only feel safe in groups of your choosing and can’t share that gratitude with others?”
“I wear a mask everywhere I go. When I can’t wear a mask, I have two choices: hide or lash out. With Cassie,” I kept calm, “I lashed out. I have a distorted view of life. I am a monster! If you choose to be my friend, you're bound to get hurt.”
“Hannah, stop crying, please,” Joyce started crying with me.
“Why are you crying with me?” I asked in a moment of self-hatred, “You should have tied me up and dumped me in the basement alone.”
“Because, Hannah, I believe in you. So does Emilia. So does Michela, and so do all the other people who love you, whether they're from prison or not.”
“Hannah, I love you. I love the girl that saw a lonely rejected Kendra in prison and lifted her up. You saw a traumatized, orphaned Ashley, and you loved her like a long lost sister. You saw me, empty and dead, and you filled me with life,” Michela spoke from her heart, “Trust Joyce because you trust me.”
“You look at the world at the wrong angle; tomorrow try looking at life in Michela’s shoes,” Joyce cared so much about me.

I let go of Michela and took the hand Joyce offered me. I stood up with her assistance and gazed into her kind eyes. She wanted to see me happy even though she’d barely spent 3 hours around me. I wasn't such a tough prison girl anymore. I was pathetic, really, but I was still human. There had to be some quality in me for all of these girls to care about me as they did. Emilia knew how to care and be real, but Michela and Joyce had the way that called out to me. If Emilia shared that view, she hid it well.

Michela said so many true things: that living with her was better than the alternative. I was hurt that she considered our relationship to be sinful; I saw us as a couple who’d one day live happily together to the end. I had projected my self-hatred onto everyone and everything, and I’d let my past control me so much that I was thinking of hurting an innocent young lady who’d never wronged me. I was a mess, but I had hope. Here was my chance.

Emilia paused and whispered some kind words in my ears as did Michela; and then Joyce did too. I was just as messed up as Michela and Ashley, but they had something they believed in. I had nothing. I saw myself as an animal and tried to let my animal image of life control me; I had a distorted, inaccurate perspective, but I could be fixed if I tried. Maybe the animal image had its use, but my version of it was hedonistic and distorted. I didn't want to be an animal; deep down, I wanted to be created, just like I knew Joyce and Michela believed.

“Go, keeping in mind what we said, give it a try. Do something to her,” Emilia whispered.
“OK,” I took a deep breath and walked onto the set between photos.
“MMMMM!” Cassie yelled at me when I fondled her tits.
“Sorry, baby, but these need to be shown to the world,” I unbuttoned her shirt.
“No no!” she whined, but it was tits out, my friends.
“Yes yes!” I taunted her and pulled her shirt back, “Enjoy!”
“MMMMMMM!” she struggled and jiggled her tits.
“Someday, I’ll play with you for real,” I teased her some more and walked away.
“NOOOOOOOO!”

I did it! I did it! I just went out and did it without getting sexual with it. I had done it! I was embraced in warm hugs as soon as I was off the active set.

► Show Spoiler

Beautiful Emilia had the most natural beauty in an objective sense. She looked like a gorgeous doll without a speck of makeup. That’s not the reason I torqued her elbows together behind her back, but it’s a justifiable reason during a purely fun moment. She handled her elbows being tied as well as Mary-Ann or Jenny did! Bendy!

The rest was the usual fare, with the harness being tied to make sure her own melons pushed out from her chest. How lucky was I to get to first tie a girl with E’s and then one with D’s? Both were super perky too, but Mary-Ann’s were my favorite for personal reasons, and Michela’s had a special thing because we were a couple. I say this to show that my mind was putting together the different lines between what was acceptable to think and feel about Michela, about my friends, and about others who weren’t in either group. Love, kink, and everything else.

A knotted white bandana cleave gag just seemed appropriate for Emilia, like she would find that simple gag to be arousing. The best way to show I had learned from Michela, Joyce, and Emilia was to put it into practice. I had done that with Cassie, and now I was doing it with Emilia. Man did I bring so much drama to the Moreau’s home!

Sadly for you, few photos of Emilia’s time in the ropes were taken, and those were mostly just of her getting familiar with her predicament. What came after was special. Joyce impressed Marcy in particular, and the young girl was asked to do her psychopathic maniacal jilted housewife skit once again.

“Hi, cutie pie!” Joyce walked over to the Spaniard.
“Who are you?” the gag muffled the speech, but it was intelligible.
“Remember that lap dance you gave last night to the handsome swarthy dark man with the beard and the teatree oil cologne?”
“Yeth! What’th that haf to do with thith?” Emilia looked at her.
“That man,” Joyce giggled and squeezed Emilia’s cheek, “Is my husband!”
“Ohhhhhh!” Emilia nodded in understanding, “I’m thorry! Pleathe let me go!”
“I might let you live unlike your slutty blonde friend. Ha ha ha! I already chloroformed her out of this world!” then Joyce grew serious and turned away, “Oops, I made a mistake.”
“What?! No!”
“Well, now,” Joyce screwed up her face, “I just told you, so,” she whispered into Emilia’s ear, “I have to kill you. But, maybe your friend with the jumbo tits will make it out of this.”
“NOOOOO! Let me go! Pleathe! I won’t tell a thoul! I want to live!”
“I’ll think about it. Don't try to escape; I was a scout; you can't escape. Until then, have fun!” Joyce gave the cutest girlfriend kiss on Emilia’s cheek.

Joyce walked away with the same childish flair she used with me, and we got to watch Emilia try to escape my ropework. The black-haired beauty had a sparkle in her eye, and I turned to Cassie in the living room, far away, who was still the way I’d left her. Cassie had it too. Bondage was a source of pleasure for them; there was kinky pleasure in their souls.

Then I understood it. The way the eyes went flat with only a twinkle of soul in girls like Michela and Mary-Ann was the struggle to process what had happened and to find the right emotions. In my eyes, that flatness was the struggle to find, as Emilia said, my moral compass. Right there, in the Moreau’s home, I looked Michela and Joyce in the eye, took one hand each in mine, humbled myself, and made the hardest request of my life, one that one day would be the primary reason I eventually had to permanently break off my connections with my parents.

“Joyce, Michela, teach me about God in a way I can understand.”

It was the moment I made the transition from atheist to agnostic.

► Show Spoiler

“Hell-lo, my big titted queen!” Joyce strode over to Cassie.
“Mmmmm!” the girl looked up and grunted into her gag.
“Yes, I know. You’re tied up! I’ll tell you a secret,” Joyce squeezed Cassie’s nose, “I did it! Those are girl scout knots; you won't get away!”
“Unk!” Cassie pulled away from her.
“I know. You’re so proud of those tits because they’re natural, but those tits are ruining my marriage. My husband keeps staring at them so much; I know because I was there hiding in the club last night when he gave you that $50 so he could see them and play with them.”
“Thit!” was Cassie’s first intelligible gag talk.
“I know, honey, but I can see in your eyes that you never thought of yourself as a home wrecker. I can grab your cell phone, and you can tell your boss you’re quitting. Or you can die.”
“No!” Cassie wailed.
“Wouldn’t that be so much fun?!” Joyce’s eyes sparkled, and she let out that psycho giggle once again, “You’d be the lucky one of your coworkers there at the club,” then her face grew dreadful and serious, “Quit, or I’ll tape your nose shut! You’ll be dead like your blonde friend in the blue sweater.”
“Mmm mmm mmmm!”
“I’ll be back!” Joyce gleefully dropped Cassie to the carpet, “Remember: quit or die!”

Joyce looked at us as she walked away from the girl in the living room and went back to the den where Emilia was kept. There was a big grin on her face, and I could see she was enjoying this and hadn’t expected to get put to use. I didn’t have to dominate anyone today; we had Joyce. I was a bit more reliable, and I could get that TAC rigging style more accurately than her though.

Emilia saw her coming and knew that part two was coming. Marcy had one camera, and Steve had the other. This delightful scene was continuing for more of each it seemed! As it turned out, they were far enough apart that the gag talk didn’t interrupt the other, and we all knew to remain silent for this.

“So, my little doll,” Joyce fondled Emilia’s tits, “I’ve made a decision. My heart softened a little while I was out of the room.”
“Pleathe, let me go,” Emilia tried, “I’m thorry. I’ll quit my job! I’ll move away!”
“I’ll let you live. I have a friend, though, who’s into girls. You’ll have to let her play with you while I take photos of you, OK?”
“OK!” Emilia readily agreed.
“Then, you’ll call your boss and quit your job before you leave,” Joyce acted like it was normal to do these things to people, “It’s wrong to kill a girl who was just desperate for money like you are. Your friends on the other hand are just common sl-ts. I’m doing the world a favor by doing to them what I’m not doing to you, right?”
“Yeah!” the captive would agree with anything.
“All right then! Have fun! I’ll call her up!”

With that, Emilia’s scene came to an end. Joyce had one more scene to wrap up though before the day could move on. Cassie continued in her struggle in the living room, and Joyce walked back into there. The psycho giggle returned as she went to the big titted girl.

“So, I’ve made a decision!” Joyce spoke with glee and kissed Cassie on the cheek.
“Mmmmm!”
“I’m going to tape your nose shut, and you’ll slowly die here on the carpet!” Joyce made it sound like they were going to play hopscotch, “I told you I killed your friend. Now I have no choice but to kill you.”
“EEEEEEEEE!”
“I guess you shouldn’t have been such a wh-re, should you? I’m doing housewives everywhere a big favor by taking you out! I have to go pick up dinner, but when I get back we’ll play,” Joyce said and almost pranced away.
“NO NO NOOOOOOO!! EEEEEEEE!” Cassie wailed repeatedly as the scene faded out.
“Oh my goodness, you are something else!” Marcy said, “You did it so well!”
“This girl is good!” Steve pointed to her while looking at me, “You youngsters are the best. Just a week ago, we shot with a girl who was so delightful we didn’t get past the pinups.”
“It's a bit dark, but we’ll spin it so it'll still sell.”

► Show Spoiler

With trepidation, I walked back into the living room where Cassie was still working to untie the ropes that bound her. The girl with the big melon breasts wasn't so haughty; she was just confident in herself and knew limits. I knelt down beside her and helped her untie her legs, and she flashed a smile at me.

“I could have gotten it,” she said, which now I realized had a tone of gratitude.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a b-tch towards you,” the words came with difficulty.
“Hannah, I don't know you, but I see you’re struggling today. Are you OK? You do not have to be specific.”
“No,” I responded, and I turned to Joyce and Michela, “But I’ll be all right.”
“Cheer up. Have fun. Let this be an escape from reality, and it's more fun!” she said just what I needed to hear, “I’ve heard only a few things about you. Just ‘cause things were a disaster in the past doesn't mean you're a disaster now or have to make one of the present.”
“Yes!” I squealed upon hearing her words, “That's what I needed to hear! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I jumped up, wrapped my arms around Cassie, and gave her the sweetest kiss on the cheek I had ever given anyone. The past was in the past! I couldn't change it, and no one else could change it either. I was just like Michela: broken, lovable, and worthy of love. I just had to make the best of things with what I had. Living in a hovel had been the best for me then; being a bondage model and living with Michela was best for me now. Trying to project myself into every person I met or into modeling work was making the worst instead of the best.

Now I looked at Cassie and realized that, for all I knew, she could have just as dark or sordid of a past as me or Michela, but she didn't let that set the tone for her life. In her case, it might be a bad grade on a test; then she’d hunker down and try to do better on the next assignments! She didn't say “Well, I could cheat, so everyone's a cheater” or “Well, I flunked that one, so I’ll flunk the rest.” That smile wasn't haughtiness; it was the smile of a more private individual who could live with herself.

“You should visit Minn Tech sometime; I’m curious how you’d control a situation if you had no restrictions,” she grinned.
“Well, I think now we need to make a film for our revenge on Joyce and her friend. I would like to visit, but I don't know.”
“Oh, you and Michela would be a hit!” she said, “You tied me up really well! I wasn't going to get those off anytime soon. You're uncomfortable around me.”
“I am. I assumed you were a pretentious b-tch and treated you like it. I am so sorry.”
“I can be a bit of one for real. I’m sorry if I gave you a bad first impression. I admit I was distrustful when I was told you’d been in prison.”
“So we both assumed the worst and were wrong!” the revelation astounded me.
“Yep!” she laughed at that.

I turned and saw three girls smiling back at me. I had hope!

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Which awaits Michela?

(A) Being forced to sniff the other girls’ feet
(B) Being gagged with the other girls’ pantyhose
(C) Both!

Post by **Caesar73** » 2 weeks ago

C it is!

Excellent Chapter once again. I like your concept with the Spoilers - the backflashes!

Post by **LunaDog** » 2 weeks ago

I'm feeling greedy! What else could it be other then, 'C!'

Post by **hafnermg** » 1 week ago

Post by **johopp** » 1 week ago

Post by **AlexUSA3** » 1 week ago

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

You want "C"? You get "C"! The next poll won't be such an easy decision though!

Story 9 Chapter 3: The Start of a New Me

As we walked to the shed, Michela, Joyce, and I talked about that taboo topic which I had long treated as being for scaredy cats: God. No, it wasn't an easy topic to broach or discuss or even acknowledge with anything more than disdain. I was in a sexual relationship with a girl who was first-hand proof that becoming a faithful believer of some random branch of Christianity will not magically make your sinful desires vanish. Michela was a very devout Catholic, daily reading religious texts, saying rosaries and chaplets, and attending mass even on weekdays. Yet here we were in a relationship she outright had said to me on more than one occasion was sinful, yet she felt this was better than what she'd be doing otherwise.

Michela's was an emotional argument; Joyce's was practical. She struggled at times to believe things, and she admitted that certain steps in the process required nothing but a blind trust. She reconciled those parts that came from my strictly academic opinion on origins and science. She clearly talked because she appealed to the thing that I’d most relate to: my lost child, the baby I so desperately wished I had. She took the best approach to my heart, and it clicked.

“I will give this more thought.”
“No rush, honey,” Michela rubbed my back, “None at all.”
“You like Emilia, right? She's not religious,” Joyce said, “But she still has ethics.”
“You answered my questions. Thank you, and thank you for setting me straight on… right and wrong thoughts concerning my crotch.”
“Hannah, you have more hope than you realize,” Joyce was so confident as she spoke, “You try so hard to be good, but you don't know what good is.”
“I just never realized that it was right in front of me. Michela, Jenny, you, Nichole, Mary-Ann. Now I know.”
“Emilia, are you ready to tie me up?” Michela asked, “Gag me with my bandana?”
“Sure!” the obviously straight girl smiled, “Time for the revenge of the escapees!”

It was now I understood that Michela felt the same way about Cassie that I felt about Joyce. She had self-control, and she understood a healthy expression of desire in the form of kink. I think we both had a thing for Emilia as well. We were bisexual girls that only found solace in sexual relations with girls as it was the one emotion that had not backfired on us. As I said, though, Michela controlled her passions whereas I had let my passions control me.

Emilia, it seemed, was a natural switch. Most likely, in sorority activities, she played whatever role was needed at the moment. She was just too comfortable with everything, as if she mostly used clothesline when tying people. Then, the three of us did something I can only call naughty; we took off our pantyhose and made a giant wad for Michela’s gag. With a look at Cassie, then me, and then Emilia, she opened her mouth as wide as she could; double-sided tape sealed her mouth shut; her bandana sealed the deal.

Michela Palmeri was now a total hottie in distress. I was already on edge, so my arousal didn't surprise me at all. Sweat formed all over Michela’s body while she struggled in her position and made all of her usual utterances. She was aroused, but the taste in her mouth was reflected in her face.

It was a very basic scene, but it was cute with her turning upon occasion. Mostly, she just asked the imaginary viewer to help her or untie her. I looked less at her body and more into her eyes; she really had a beautiful… soul. She was alive despite her father’s desire to kill that sparkle.

Cassie effortlessly pulled the sweater down. Tits out, my friends. Michela wailed, but she was warned to behave. She played it up so well, and I felt pride inside me. It was the pride of being privileged to see her grow. Maybe that's not pride. The Michela before me had a long way left to go in her journey, but she was emotionally much healthier than the girl with whom I shared a cell for a year.

► Show Spoiler

Foot shots, close-ups, and a wailing Michela Palmeri. I wasn't into feet, but someone here was as I was about to discover. You cannot tell a person's kinks by their outward appearance, but you can guess their kinks based on their past experiences. Cassie and Emilia had given me no kink gauges so far.

“So,” Emilia walked onto the set, “This is the psychopath's crazy b-tch friend, huh?”
“I guess so. This must be the girl with the rope fetish.”
“Eh -e -o. Unhie -e! Hleathe!” Michela begged them.
“You thought you were going to screw me when I was kidnapped and tied up and gagged like you are right now!” Emilia grabbed Michela by the hair, “Like I’ll be nice!”
“Hmmm,” Cassie loudly clacked her heels and sat down, “Does she like feet?”
“Ah anna -o home! Eh -e -o!” the captive continued begging them.
“I don't think so!” Cassie took off a heel and pressed her foot against Michela’s face, “Smell it!”

Michela squealed and tried to turn away from Cassie’s stinky foot, but she couldn't go far. Emilia’s grip tightened, and she masterfully controlled Michela’s head. Michela had no freedom of any kind, and she took a deep breath of Cassie’s foot. Now, Cassie had revealed a kink of hers, and Michela loathed it while I was standing off camera to watch and wishing I was the one being forced to smell the feet. Licking was beyond my taste though; just smelling was fine.

Humiliation was an odd thing. I was deeply into it whereas Michela was more private with her kink. Kink was intimate for her, and her limits depended upon the company as much as on the captor. I don't think she liked the foot sniffing on any level, but for a paycheck she could handle it like a champion. On the other hand, Cassie was sincerely enjoying herself.

We all took turns, even me. Watching Michela turn her nose at our feet while sucking on our hose brought me a strange pleasure unlike the kind that Cassie experienced. I merely enjoyed the torture; Cassie enjoyed the nature of it; Emilia enjoyed the simple humiliation of the captive. We all had a kinky pleasure, but we ranged from mirth to pleasure to dominant satisfaction.

“Unhie -e! Hleath, eh -e -o!”
“Do know that your little friend there planned to kill us all?” Cassie questioned her.
“Huh?! No!” Michela grew fearful and shook her head.
“She's clueless. She thought she was just getting a lick of bondage p-ssy,” I added to things.
“Yeah, you're right,” Cassie nodded, “We’ll scare her.”
“Quick! I hear someone coming!” Emilia said.
“Oh, my goodness, who did this to you?! Where are the wh-res?!” Joyce ran over.
“We did!” I hand gagged Joyce and felt her melt in my arms to my delight.
“Mmmmm!”

► Show Spoiler

“Eh -e -o -ou h-cking wh-reth!” Joyce snarled into her gag.
“Aww, sorry, hottie,” I squeezed her cheeks, “But you need to be taught a lesson.”
“Unhie! Now! Ah’ll -eh ou- and thnuhh -ou all!” she promised our deaths.
“Yeah, right,” I lifted her up and spanked her butt.
“Owww! Ah’ll hut -ou all in uh hroun-!” she insisted.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Emilia said.
“Your English idioms aren't perfect,” Cassie grimaced.
“Aren’t you so cute?” I asked rhetorically before Cassie and I kissed her on opposite cheeks.
“Noooooo!” she stomped her heels on the concrete.

Every good model has a set of expressions at which they excel. Cassie excelled with genuine fear written on her face throughout her scene; Michela’s was desperation; I was kind of lacking any; Emilia was also good at fear; and Joyce had her own, too. I could see a touch of anger in her eyes mixed with the words “How dare you!” all over her face at the moment.

How did hair clips make her prettier just like the bandanas made Michela prettier and scrunchies made Jenny appear as sweet as she was? We’d roped Joyce in a standard manner, stuffed socks in her mouth, and hidden the socks under strips of green duct tape. Cassie had tied Joyce, which gave me an opportunity to study Miss Jumbo Tits’s abilities as a kidnapper and Joyce’s abilities as an escape artist.

Innocence and guilt, anger and fear, determination and desolation–all were written on Joyce’s face. She turned left and right and gave a fascinating effort to escape. She squirmed in a way I’d never seen before, but I didn’t understand it either. She seemed to be looking to make sure she was “alone” in the fictional sense. I had been clearly the subject of conversation when I was tied up because I felt a gentle nudge from Cassie and saw her motioning for me to follow her and to expose Joyce.

“Hiiiii!” Cassie strutted onto the set, “I bet you’re angry to be tied up!”
“Mmmm hmmm! Eh -e -o! -ight -ow!” the fiery Italian temper flared, “Wh-re!”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand you,” I started unbuttoning Joyce’s shirt, “OMG! Girls, look!”
“Someone isn’t wearing a bra!” Emilia had a sly grin.
“No bra!” Cassie gasped, “How positively wh-rish of you!”
“OWW!” Joyce screeched when Cassie twisted a nipple, “Ah’ll hill -ou! Ah -ill!”
“We’ll see!” I gave her a blatantly flat kiss on the cheek.

The look on Joyce’s face was priceless. It went from “don’t you dare” in photo to “of course you dared” in the next after she’s exposed. Joyce continued looking around and worked up the cutest sweat in her struggle. She tried crying a bit as if she were afraid and grunted little except for an expression of her frustrations with her struggles.

► Show Spoiler

Why was I sexually attracted to Joyce and Cassie so much but not to Emilia or my friends Jenny, Nichole, and Casey? I wasn’t attracted to Kendra, either, but I was attracted to M.A. and Kylie. I was attracted to Kristine, and I’d been so obvious in my first scene and so scared that she had kindly returned my flirtations despite being straight and married and even suggested that one day she’d let me have my way with her as part of a scene.

I watched Joyce struggling, and I turned and looked at Michela. Both attracted me in different ways, but the attraction to Michela was stronger. To Joyce I felt the same urge I felt toward most of the others I named: a sexual attraction but more in the desire to have kinky fun. To Michela I felt a passion for the person inside. Poor Michela had more or less forgotten, and I listened to the conversation between her and Emilia while watching Joyce.

“All right, screwy b-tch, I am going to degag you, OK?” Emilia sometimes had bad grammar.
“Mmm hmm!” Michela nodded and waited patiently, “Thanks.”
“You know your psycho friend was going to snuff us when you were done having your fun?”
“WHAT?! She kidnapped you?!” Michela’s voice was full of disgust, “That’s way uncool!”
“Yeah, she stole us from a strip club! Said she saw her husband there!”
“I am so sorry! Look, please let me go! I’m sorry!” Michela acted fearful.
“I think we will, but we have to be certain you won’t squeal! I must gag you another time.”
“MMMMMM!” Michela ate the panties again and got the double-sided tape, still attached to her bandana, back over her lips and knotted in place.

Cassie ignored them and focused on Joyce, and I realized that Cassie was straight but kinky. She enjoyed domination and submission in a different way than I did. The emotions she felt weren’t sexual but still somehow hormonal. Michela and I experienced fun or sex in bondage. What an epiphany I’d had! This was what Kendra and Mary-Ann experienced that day. There was fun to be found in the actual actions of dominating and submitting!

Joyce continued issuing her promises and threats into her gag with that sparkle in her eye getting larger by the moment. She loved bondage on so many levels, and nothing destroys me like what happened to her that night in November of 2016. Look at the emotions written on her face in just this one scene! Truly she was a talented actress of the same class as Michela, but it was ruined in an instant that night.

In her cursings for the camera, Joyce let her heels fly off towards Cassie, who merely laughed at the attempt and caught them with ease. Cassie then dropped the heels, walked over to Joyce, and twisted a nipple. I came up behind her, effortlessly picked Joyce up by her tits, and dropped her on the ground while she shrieked. She was trying so hard to escape while promising to do so and ensure our deaths at a young age. I had an engagement with Michela, though, with Emilia asking me to come over.

“You understand what’s happening here?!” I pointed to Joyce as I walked over to the other side of the enormous shed.
“Mmm hmm!”
“Good, because I’m into girls, too, and I am going to ensure you say nothing to the cops.”
“Hmmm?” she moaned a little erotically while I fondled her tits.
“Just blackmail,” I kissed her on the gagged lips while Emilia took a quick video of us with her phone to conclude the scene.
“Very nice,” Emilia smiled, “You two are a cute couple for real.”
“Yeah, but what we want to know is if you’d let us include you in a bondage threesome or not.”
“That’d have to be a wildly dark CNC style play for me to enjoy it,” she answered thoughtfully, “Humiliation is Cassie’s territory.”
“Maybe Michela and I need to attend Minnesota Tech. You like CNC?”
“I have limits, but yes,” she smiled, “Let’s untie Michela and focus on Joyce.”

► Show Spoiler

Doesn’t Joyce have the cutest tits? Oh, right, they’re censored. Heh. She continued wriggling on the carpet with one intention: escape. Bound and determined, right? Right?! I thought it was funny. Cassie and Michela rolled their eyes, but at least Emilia thought it was a cute joke.

What a girl! She stared right at us the entire time she struggled against the ropes. The threats of grievous physical harm poured out of her while we watched her. She enjoyed the role more than I’d have ever guessed, and she was having a ton of fun being a ham for the camera. Even Cassie and Emilia discovered a new side of Joyce that day; to this day, roleplay is Joyce’s top source of pleasure in TUGs.

Joyce showed off her other talent for the camera. Not only was she a good actress and a cute damsel in distress, but she was also an escape artist! Joyce stared right at Cassie while sloughing the ropes off her arms and body. Then the cutest cheesecake shots followed, especially the one with her smiling while she was still gagged and freeing herself. This girl understood the true joy of bondage and how to show it off.

“Sh-t, she escaped!” Cassie walked onto the set where I stood looking at the ropes.
“Yep,” I picked them up, “That means…”
“She's out there somewhere,” Emilia added.
“Plotting revenge,” Cassie finished the statement.
“Well, girls, time to move. Japan, Little America, Hungary… not here!” I said.
“We're in big trouble,” Emilia said as the scene ended, “We're dead dead dead.”
“We’ll stick together, and we'll get her next time. I promise,” Cassie insisted.

► Show Spoiler

“That was so much fun!” Joyce grinned like a girl much younger than her 19 years, “And I forgot to say this… belated happy birthday and early happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” I said, and I acted like I needed to pee or something.
“Thank you,” Michela curtsied, “It means a lot to hear that in close quarters.”
“Hannah, are you OK?” Cassie asked me, “You seemed to get thrown off by that.”
“No, I’m not OK,” I admitted in a soft voice, “My last birthday brought me suffering.”
“I’m sorry. Would you like to talk to one of us?” Boss B-tch was but a Boss in reality.
“My last birthday… is why I am the mess you see now.”

I quietly explained to a girl I barely knew why I’d said that. I didn’t notice the rest had stopped talking and were listening. I rose to a near shriek as I explained what that monster had done to me and how he threatened to kill me, forced me to kill our innocent baby, tied me up, and beat me afterwards.

I didn’t need to explain my execution scene, but I did talk openly about how I was now afraid of being tied up with duct tape and men in general. That was why, I explained, I only worked with Marcy and the models and how the Moreau’s had been extremely sympathetic and respectful of this limit of mine. Cassie couldn’t understand, but she sincerely felt bad and understood how my birthday could become a source of pain to me, especially since this was now my third birthday as an effective orphan.

“Sorry I turned this into a pity party. Did any good come from it?” I asked them.
“You,” Joyce was crying, “Poor thing. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve gotten to hear some awful stories at the center, but yours is the worst,” Emilia said.
“Center?! What center?!” I snapped my head around, “What center? At Minn Tech?!”
“Yeah,” Emilia seemed shocked by my reaction, “They try to help troubled teens, whether ones who were in the prison system or foster care system. The doctors try to root out the sources of the youth’s actions and offer care based on that.”
“I have to end up at Minnesota Tech! I have to! I have to end up in this psychology program, whether as a test subject or as a student volunteer, assistant, or anything else!”

Just then my phone started ringing, but I had a goal. This fall semester, I had to be at Minnesota Tech even if it impoverished me. I had found my calling in life; I’d started on the community college general studies track because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I wanted to help girls just like myself and my friends, whether unwanted or just bad, who’d turned to crime. What, or rather Who, was God? Whoever He was, or rather is, He loved me just as much as Jenny. I say her because she was, and still is, the most innocent girl I knew, and know. I had my first logical points in my mind set.

Minnesota Tech or bust!

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Who is on the other end of the line?
(A) Jenny
(B) Nichole
(C) Casey

Post by **silvertejp590** » 1 week ago

Post by **harveygasson** » 1 week ago

Post by **johopp** » 1 week ago

Post by **hafnermg** » 1 week ago

Post by **Caesar73** » 1 week ago

Your Choices are never easy - after some deliberation I go for ..... A!

There are many things to say about this Chapter except its steamy hotness

I do like especailly the first Paragraph:

"As we walked to the shed, Michela, Joyce, and I talked about that taboo topic which I had long treated as being for scaredy cats: God. No, it wasn't an easy topic to broach or discuss or even acknowledge with anything more than disdain. I was in a sexual relationship with a girl who was first-hand proof that becoming a faithful believer of some random branch of Christianity will not magically make your sinful desires vanish. Michela was a very devout Catholic, daily reading religious texts, saying rosaries and chaplets, and attending mass even on weekdays. Yet here we were in a relationship she outright had said to me on more than one occasion was sinful, yet she felt this was better than what she'd be doing otherwise."

You captured the Contrast between Michaela´s Beliefs and her Relationship to another Woman very well here.

Post by **AlexUSA3** » 1 week ago

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Lucky Lottie, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp

So, it is Jenny who is calling Hannah

Story 9 Chapter 4: Back in the Fold

“Hannah Bandana!” Jenny's familiar squeak greeted me, “How are you?”
“Good. I finally asked Joyce and Michela about important things. How are you?”
“Good good! Would it be all right if Nichole and I came over tomorrow?”
“It should be! We're having a birthday party tomorrow, if you want to come. It’ll be a mob scene though because it's Michela’s first birthday party in five years.”
“Awwww, we would love to be there for her, if she wants that.”
“I want that. It's my first birthday party since my sweet 16,” I started crying, “Jenny, I threw it all away. I'm sorry! All I want to be is 14 again and able to undo all the sh-t I did and not hurt you, Nichole, and Joy like I did and be a Cool Girl again!”
“You never ceased to be a Cool Girl. You still are one.”

Then Jenny kindly lectured me. No, lectured isn't fair, because Jenny's words pierced my soul with the purity of her love. There was something special, meaningful, in how Jenny and Joyce loved us. I was slowly learning how to better love others.

I was glad Jenny called. If she hadn't called, the events that happened that Sunday… might not have ever happened. When I hung up the phone, I walked over to Michela and gave her a tight hug and told her all about the guests coming to her birthday party. Really, I didn't want to accept it, but they were coming for me more than Michela.

March 22, 2015

I don’t know what overcame me, but when our friends arrived I ran. I left Michela in my dust and ran to embrace Casey first, Nichole second, and Jenny third. There wasn’t a reason except that it was the order in which they had been walking up to the door of the Palmeri’s…our home. I was at home here, and I was loved as the friend who was slowly bringing Michela back to life. Nichole and Casey were the girls slowly bringing me back to life in a way, but it was mostly all of my amazing friends from Pod F.

“Kenny, come out!” I called back.
“I’m coming,” Kendra sheepishly walked to the driveway.
“Kendra! It’s so good to see you!” Jenny ran to her cousin.
“Jenny!” Kendra finally smiled, “Thank you for still caring after all I’ve done!”
“I never stopped!” Jenny said while they embraced, “You’re family, cousin; I love you!”
“Let’s go inside,” was Kendra being embarrassed to have an intimate moment in front of others.

Kylie couldn't be there because she was having her own first birthday party since she got out of juvie. Her first since she was 14! Mary-Ann didn't know what birthday parties were; Kendra agreed to come. It was a nice little reunion; all had to accept that Michela wanted her juvie friends there. But my grandma made it too! Unfortunately, M.A. had to leave early because she had work early in the morning. Joyce was sick and couldn't make it.

It was strange to see Jenny be taller than someone. Little Jenny and Kendra looked so much like each other that the only distinguishing feature from behind was Kendra’s muscle. Oh, sure, there was the obvious orange bandana on Jenny’s head which contrasted with Kendra’s bright blue. It was new to see Kendra with one; she’d spent too much time around me, M.A., and Michela and been converted it seemed. That or she saw it as solidarity. Kendra was doing things her way while the party was going.

Then she didn’t. She and Jenny were too cute together. We all worked together to bind them and gag them. Michela and I knew that Kendra wasn’t terribly interested in bondage outside studio work, but we also knew she was a sport. Yes, we kidnapped them. And Michela once they were tied. We had a party after the party!

Friendship is a funny thing. What a sight they made! Oh, where do I start? I’ll let you read the next interlude first.

► Show Spoiler

I mentioned the respective orange and bright blue bandanas that Jenny and Kendra wore. Kendra had a kerchief, but Jenny had a headband. Of course, Jenny almost always had her hair in a braid that was held by a scrunchie, but Kendra’s was down today. Jenny had matching orange athletic shorts and a black t-shirt; Kendra had tight black jean shorts and a bright blue tank top.

Jenny’s gag was a bright blue rubber ball such as those used by the same sorority to which Joyce, Emilia, and Cassie belong, with a handkerchief; Kendra’s gag was the same with an orange ball. We even tied them the same. Three ropes on their arms to crush them down, two on their thighs, and three on their legs bound them, and a Tied After Class harness followed. We took off their shoes and socks and put those aside before zipping the big toe of Jenny’s right foot to the big toe of Kendra’s left and vice versa.

Michela was a gorgeous bondage doll with whom I shamelessly took liberty in the process of the kidnapping. Today, she had dressed like an Italian flag! Her long red skirt came to her ankles. A white button-up long-sleeve shirt was her top. On her head was a green bandana headband. Why was I the one blessed to share a bed with such a gorgeous girl like Michela?! Green knee socks and black ankle boots finished the outfit.

We asked, and Michela refused to allow us to put a rubber ball in her mouth. I knew she would say that, but I still let Casey and Nichole ask her. Instead, she got the hose I had worn to mass that morning when I went with her family since Kendra said she’d be there as well. A knotted white handkerchief cleave gagged her. Both her wrists and her ankles were crossed and tied. A real harness pinned her arms, and her thighs were tied together. In tying her ankles, I made sure Nichole’s white rope dug into the heels of Michela’s boots. We hogtied her, and I opened her shirt to humiliate her.

The three of us–Casey, Nichole, and I–piled on the futon to watch Jenny and Kendra struggle on the floor while Michela struggled on the bed. Despite the general dislike of bondage, Kendra loved us, especially me and Jenny, enough to forgive this for the sake of an intimate moment. It was odd; Kendra was vulnerable.

“Look at Kendra. Feel that feeling?” Nichole asked me, “That's friendship.”
“I know,” I watched the two little girls on the floor, “Nichole, tell me about school.”
“What about school? You're in college; you know.”
“No, about Minnesota Tech and life there.”
“Oh, well, It's different living on campus, but it's great because of friends. I don't…”
“You trailed off. Something wrong?” I scratched my head.
“College life,” Nichole took off her own bandana, “is better than home life.”
“Want to talk?” Casey asked her.
“Nah,” Nichole shook her head, “It's fine. Just not as good as being with my friends.”

Casey, the Gangsta Friend, was a true friend indeed. I hugged her tightly like younger Hannah used to hug Achilles the Stuffed Rabbit, who sat on the pillow, as he’d always done, curiously not noticing the hogtied girl struggling on the bed. I do not know why I was so tightly clutching except that I had a desire in my heart: for me and my friends to be accepted into (in my case, reconciled with) the Cool Girls’ Club.

Nichole didn't want to talk, clearly, so she instead joined the platonic hug on the futon. We all watched the three girls in their respective captivity. To bring out the best in my dear Kendra, I set up my phone to film her. When she saw it, I saw a sparkle form in her eyes. Unlike Jenny, Kendra was working up a sweat in her bondage. The cousins looked at each other and smiled; the reunion of the two was complete.

► Show Spoiler

“Nichole, I need Minnesota Tech. I’ve been diagnosed with BPD. I need help. I’m a disaster. Michela and I need… you girls.”
“I can't help you, Hannah, except to encourage you. Email them,” Nichole seemed to truly hear my pleas.
“All right. I have to try. Maybe somewhere out there is a school just waiting for me. Maybe there's one for Michela, too. Even better, maybe they'll be the same or at least close to each other!”
“Keep exploring, Hannah,” Casey's words oozed hope, “God will provide.”
“I hope so. If He sees me or even cares,” I saw similar doubts in Nichole's face.
“Look at them… long lost friends reunited,” Casey motioned to the Kristensen girls.

Jenny and Kendra were twisting and squeaking in a most adorable manner. Bondage or not, Kendra was having a moment to remember with her cousin, and she smiled in a way that still pierces my heart. In life after juvie, Kendra was…happy. Oh, sure, we knew the serious dour girl would return in an hour, but at the moment she was having too much fun playing with a cousin she loved.

Kendra and I had a lot in common. We were both taken for granted, but unlike her I had neither siblings nor cousins. We escaped reality by doing drugs and got busted as parts of the same ring. We both hid from the few people who loved us because we were ashamed of what we’d done, and we tried to hide our emotions.

Jenny and Kendra were trying to reach the other's bonds, but it didn't matter because little Kendra got herself out of the clothesline before the more experienced Jenny! I knew Jenny was awful at escaping, but even this was bad by her standards. I smiled visibly because my little wish was coming true. Kendra had passed the test.

“Awwwww,” Kendra taunted Jenny, “Are you stuck girl?”
“Mmm hmm!” Jenny nodded although she was making headway.
“That's too bad,” Kendra smiled, “Be a shame if I did this!”
SMACK! Jenny was spanked on the butt, “Wheeeeeeee!”
“That's my Jenny. Remember when we were like 10 and would help Gramgram make pies for the holidays? You, me, your mom, and Great-Aunt Judy?”
“Mmm hmm!” Jenny nodded while her cousin helped her get out.
“Maybe,” Kendra's eyes sparkled, “We can do it again while Gramgram is still alive.”
“Mmmm!” that squeal of delight was infectious.

Only in the Kristensen family of Danes could you find an 82 year-old great-grandma where the great-granddaughter was pushing 20 years. It was hard to believe Kendra had parents under 40 when mine were pushing 50. I was jealous listening to them talk about family when my grandpa died in a jungle somewhere northwest of Saigon back in 1970, leaving an infant son and a 19 year-old widow. I’d seen pictures and heard the stories of Grandpa George, but to hug him and kiss him would be so much better.

Michela was where my eyes went while my ears ingested the delight of the cousins. I would have put so much more effort into cherishing the moments if I’d known Kendra would be dead 41 months from now. In reality, I did though, because she was the first person for whom I had a true and meaningful platonic affection, and I understood that while sitting there.

Michela was hot as could be, and I knew there’d be some light clothes-on fornication if Michela was game. The rope was good, but Michela was better. Like myself and Nichole, she had the prowess to competently escape, and the hogtie came to an end. She sat up and smiled while sucking on my hose before gradually escaping. It took another 15 minutes, but she did it.

“I knew they could get out if they tried,” Nichole leaned back and smiled.
“Well, then, there's just one thing left to do,” Jenny’s eyes beamed with joy.
“What's that?” Michela's eyes were hopeful as if there were a reward to come.
“I’m curious, too!” I think I had my own hopes.
“To officially make you two members of the Cool Girls’ Club, and to recognize you as a lost sheep that has come back into the fold.”
“Jenny…,” I felt the love coming off my friends, “Do you mean that?”
“I do. Michela Palmeri, do you want to be a member of our Club?”

I turned to my girlfriend and saw a new sparkle in her eyes. Her torture as a child had not been in vain; good things had come out of it. My mistakes had truly seen me reap my own great rewards, too, and for the first time I understood that my suffering could be used for good when I tried. Michela seemed overwhelmed.

“I have since the day I first heard of it!” Michela jumped at this.
“Do you agree to abide by the principles of love outlined in our Constitution?”
“I do!” Michela readily accepted the terms.
“Kendra, I know you're not into TUGs, but do you?” I looked at her.
“How can I say no?” Kendra smiled, “Love and friendship is right here. I do.”
“Then, with the agreement of Casey and Nichole, we have the required three members to pronounce you both Cool Girls. Welcome to the family!”
“Thank you so much!” Michela hugged Jenny, “You don't know what it means to girls like me who believe that they’ll forever be rejected by everyone they meet.”
“It's an honor, Jenny,” Kendra joined the hug in a rare display of affection.
“Welcome home, Hannah. We saved your seat for you,” Casey held out her hand.
“You never gave up hope, and here I am. I’m back. For real,” I started crying.
“Hannah Bandana, I’m glad to call you my friend.”
“Once a Cool Girl, always a Cool Girl,” Nichole reminded me, “And no Cool Girl has a journey as touching as yours.”
“Yet. Wait until I get my other friends to join,” I reached out and hugged Nichole.

The six of us then all grouped together in a giant hug. I started bawling my eyes out, which got Jenny and Michela bawling too. I had redeemed myself in their eyes; now, I had a second chance. My story had been about proving myself to those I thought did not want to be seen with a former inmate when in reality I first had to prove myself to myself. Thank you, Joyce, for what you taught me the other day. Thank you, girls, for having infinite depths to your hearts. Thank you, Kendra, for letting me see things you only let Jenny and Mary-Ann see.

► Show Spoiler

I ordinarily only talk about the bedroom when there’s bondage, but tonight’s game didn't start with bondage. We did have our clothes on like I hoped. Michela sat on the futon, and I sat next to her. Something had happened today: Michela's eyes burned in the passion of lust, but there was life.

Slowly, I unbuttoned her shirt just like I had done before during the game and took off my own shirt, Michela just posed like she would for a pinup photo while staring into my eyes. Our lips met, and Michela found herself on her back with me on top of her with my left hand squeezing her tits while my right pushed her head towards mine.

Then I let go of her. We embraced each other tightly while we rubbed our tits and our p-ssies together. We kissed without breaking eye contact. While we looked into each other's eyes, I noticed that Michela seemed to be emotionally alive. What a moment! It was a beautiful orgasm we experienced together.

“Hannah, thank you for everything you've done for me,” she said when we paused.
“I'm just one person,” I admitted, “We have lots of great friends.”
“I meant it earlier. From when you told me about the Cool Girls’ Club when you first arrived in juvie, I spent hours wondering what a club that promised love, loyalty, and friendship and to help one another unconditionally was like. I craved it.”
“Well, it's…,” she took off her boots.
“It's the love you showed us when we were inside, Hannah,” she said emphatically.
“Oh, no, I,” I couldn't resist attacking myself, “I was just…”
“You reached out to us and loved your podmates in a different way. We had our own genuine friendships, but you reached out to us and loved us without friendship first.”
“Michela?” I watched her remove a sock and her bandana.
“Quit interrupting me.”

Michela was soon on top of me with one of her socks in my mouth, her bandana as the cleave gag, and the other sock as an OTN gag. I was buck naked, bound, and gagged at Michela's mercy. While she tied me up, she told me more about friendship and the meaning of the Cool Girls’ Club to her in a spiritual sense. Joining the CGC meant a unification of spirit to her; she'd found friends who respected her, loved her in spite of her past, embraced her despite her faults, and welcomed her on her own merits. They wanted to see her be happy. In other words, they lived by the principles by which she tried to live through her religious convictions.

Now, Michela opened up about the feelings she’d experienced when “Daddy” tied her up the first time and how bizarre it was. Then she went into the humiliation of being forced to wear whatever clothes he picked for her and how she'd grown to detest any and all kinds of shorts. After a pause, something changed in her eyes, and innocent Michela, the hockey star, returned and described how her mind started deteriorating the night he first assaulted her. Then she told me about the threats to hurt Mom, Luisa, and Sofia if she told anyone about it and him taking her cell phone from her. She didn’t talk about the actual actions or bondage; she talked about what it all did to her.

“Hannah, today I learned my life still has value,” she said quietly, “That I don't have to hide from the world.”
“Awwww,” I was crying.
“I used to think that people would just look at me and instantly recognize me as the girl who shot her abusive father. Or that they’d hide from me because I was a convicted felon. Those girls know it all and love us as if we never did it all. We can talk about the past, but they only look at who we are right now.”
“Mmmmm,” I bashfully squirmed a little; she was right.
“Hannah, you made a lot of bad choices when you got out of prison but… They turned out to be the spur for the biggest blessings each of us has. Hannah, I know what I want to do with my life after just sitting at home and feeling sorry for myself for five months. I want to help girls like us who were incarcerated. Maybe be a lawyer fighting to make sure girls like me who should never have gone to prison don’t.”
“Mmmmmm!” I felt her passion; my sins had resulted in good for my friends!
“Now, let’s play the skirt and sheet game, hmm?”

You know the game I mean from before. I’m blindfolded with my own yellow bandana and have a washcloth against my crotch to soak up any orgasms I get from the vibrator, and I struggle to find Michela’s crotch and make her orgasm too. It’s the best game, and it is even better when I am gagged with one of her socks while smelling the other.

What an emotional day it had been for the gorgeous Italian and her girlfriend!

► Show Spoiler

March 25, 2015

Michela always was a work of art even when she wasn’t modeling. The skirt, shirt, shoe combo was the real Michela, including the perfectly coordinating bandana, if she wore any headgear. I understood it had something to do with her dad, and she occasionally wore jeans. There wasn’t a pair of shorts to be found among her laundry. Tonight was one from her scenes: the orange skirt and bandana headband with the vertically striped shirt.

“Michela, now, we’re going out,” I said to my girlfriend after we had eaten her birthday dinner with her family.
“Are you taking me somewhere?” Michela asked, “And then maybe we’ll play after?”
“Yes, now… please trust me, because we love each other, OK? Will you do something?”
“All right. I’ll listen. What is it?” her eyes widened a little.
“Blindfold yourself with your bandana. Please?” I stared into her eyes with all my love.
“I can’t do that, can I?” a tear formed in the corner of her right eye.
“Michela, you can do it. I… we have a surprise for you. Something you will love.”

Michela started crying and hugged me tightly. She was scared and shaking and held me in a soft, childlike embrace. We slowly moved apart, and we kissed. With a deep breath and trepidation, she slid the bandana over her own eyes and held her arm out for me to lead her while letting out a fearful whimper.

This was difficult. The last time she was blindfolded was the last time her father r-ped her, and she strongly associated blindfolds with his molestations. This is why I asked her to do it, because I love her. She had to do it herself to associate the blindfold with me instead of him.

A short ride later, and we were at the skating rink in Minnetonka with me, Mary-Ann, Kendra, Casey, and Kylie all with her. We kept quiet so she’d think she and I were alone besides the other patrons of wherever we were. Kendra was filming this with her cell phone. Casey had to be here; it was her suggestion.

“Michela, put your headband back in place but keep your eyes shut,” I said to her.
“All right, Hannah. I know this will be worth it,” she did exactly as I said.
“Beautiful. Open your eyes.”
“Where are… we?” Michela's eyes grew wide before she dropped to her knees.
“Happy birthday, Michela!” we all said.
“I…,” childish wonder filled her eyes instead of tears, “You girls love me!”
“C’mon! Show us those hockey player moves!” Casey encouraged her.
“Thank you for being my friends!” genuine joy could be heard in her voice.

Michela needed all of two minutes to remember how to skate despite six years having nearly passed since the last time she played hockey. Mary-Ann was a disaster; Kendra was like a natural; Casey, Kylie and I were average. One by one, Michela took us by the hand and led us along, telling us how she hadn't been this happy since before her father started hurting her. It had been so long since she experienced that kind of joy.

“You know what you need to really win?” Kendra asked, “To really blast that d-ck out so your life is yours again?”
“What, Kenny? I’m all ears,” Michela said, barely caring about the past.
“You need hockey back in your life.”
“Come here!” Michela, her eyes full of life, hugged little Kendra.

Then, Michela took us aside, and for the first time truly opened up about her past and how much hockey meant to her and how much pain she felt when she was punished by being taken off the hockey team. There was more to Michela than even I knew.

Thank you Kendra and Casey. You saved my life, and you saved Michela’s too.

► Show Spoiler

“Michela Palmeri, I love you so much,” I said to her in the bedroom that night.
“Hannah, I really meant it. I haven't been so happy in so long,” her eyes sparkled.
“Whose socks will you eat tonight? Mine or yours?”
“Yours are more special. Hannah?” I knew it was coming.
“Yes?” I prepared the gag, “I cannot answer that.”
“Why did he do it? Why would a man lust after the daughter that he helped create? Why would he lure her into a trap so he can bind her, gag her, and f-ck her? Why’d he do it not just once but repeatedly for 10 months?”
“Michela…,” I sighed and knotted the blue bandana around the sock, “I can't…”
“When I shot him, I intentionally let him live so that he has a chance to repent before he dies. Even Fr. Kelly has struggled with answering me on the spiritual side of it. I had to protect Momma, Luisa, and Sofia, but I still shot him. I felt freed when I did it, as if my future had changed from being a perpetual chew toy to possibly being able to make something of myself.”
“I don't understand,” I finished the gag, “Michela, stop talking about–”
“Maybe I’ll never know. I just know that I feel safe when you tie me up and gag me and fornicate with me. Someday, Hannah, I’ll let you read my diary. Gag me now.”

This is the most Michela has ever said about it. She is vulnerable. How can she let me tie and gag her when that's just how she ended up the way she is? Not only does she let me do it, but also she likes it more than ordinary sex although many nights we just grind.

Read her diary? Me? I couldn't, could I? That's her personal space, not mine. She didn't hide from me while writing in it, but it was private. That was her safe space. I could only be hurt by that, right?

I thought back to Ashley. Some days her mind is an absolute blank as if she went to bed as a little girl in France and woke up as a tween in a Minnesota youth prison, and other days she will quietly whisper some horror she experienced. My sweet Michela has a vivid recollection as if it all happened just this morning, and she has to bear that cross all the way to grave.

One sock was stuffed in the other, and a blue bandana was tied around the neck of the other. Casey taught us this one. Michela accepted the gag with the sparkle in her eyes slowly fading to be replaced by the empty void with nothing in the twinkle but lust. It was just what I saw at the Moreau’s a few days before this; the sparkle that is her soul. Several layers of duct tape kept her quiet. Strips were bad for her, but wrapping was OK.

Rope already bound her in a tight spreadeagle on the expanded futon, and the vibrator was already secured to her p-ssy. I opened her shirt and found there to be no bra. She knew something special was coming tonight and prepared for it. I gently fondled her bare tits and switched the vibrator to a medium-low setting. Then my lips met hers… then I was on top of her, grinding her…

Happy birthday, baby. I hope your first birthday since juvie was as special as you told everyone it was.

=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=

Since we have run out of scenes for you to choose for Hannah, choose one for Michela!

Post by **harveygasson** » 6 days ago

Post by **Caesar73** » 6 days ago

A it is!

Stories of Tie Up Games

The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 10 Chapter 2 (Apr. 29, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 8 Chapter 3 (Apr. 9, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 1 (Apr. 12, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 2 (Apr. 15, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 2 (Apr. 15, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 2 (Apr. 15, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 2 (Apr. 15, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 2 (Apr. 15, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 3 (Apr. 18, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 4 (Apr. 22, 2024)

Re: The Bondage Model - Vote Story (F/F, some M/F) - Story 9 Chapter 4 (Apr. 22, 2024)

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