Cross Country: Vote for an AI Damsel -- Chapter 3 (M/F+)

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TapeTurtle
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Cross Country: Vote for an AI Damsel -- Chapter 3 (M/F+)

Post by TapeTurtle »

Trying something new (and kinda weird) again — hope you all enjoy it! [edit — making this a lot simpler]

How this works: Every chapter of this story will be based on an AI model that someone votes for via comment/reply. Most of the models I found so far have been from the Instagram account ElitePics. I will pick a few images from the account and link them to the story. The audience will vote on which damsel they’d like to see bound and gagged in the next chapter.

For example, if you all were to vote for this image:

Image

The next chapter would feature a story that would have to involve both this model being bound and gagged and also a train of some kind.

Obvious disclaimer: I don’t own the Instagram account, and don’t claim any of the work to be my own.

Thanks for playing along! Here goes nothing:

— — — — — — — — — —

Part One:

“You really mean it? Your dad’s car? I can have it?” Justin stared at his friend incredulously.

“He left it to me, so it’s mine to do what I want with it. Win the bet, it’s yours.” Henry grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t need it. And I don’t have a reason to travel around like you do.”

“I thought you were just joking. I mean that’s not really possible, right?” Justin studied his friends face, expecting him at any point to interject and claim he was kidding. “You’re really serious.”

“Dead serious. I don’t think you can do it. But I’d have a lot of fun watching you try.”

“So you want me…over the next year…to travel to every state in the U.S.”

“…which you do every year for work already.”

“Right. But you want me to find a woman in each state. And somehow convince that woman to let me…tie her up. And then you want a picture?” Justin couldn’t believe the words coming from his own mouth. “Does that about sum it up?”

“You just about got it buddy. A year. You can get this done in a year. Want more time?”

Justin went silent. He looked outside of his house, where his friends red Lamborghini, his dream car, waited outside, just out of reach.

“18 months.” Justin said, taking a deep breath, realizing what he had just signed himself up for.

“You’ve got a deal.” The two men shook hands. “Where do you think you’ll start?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t really had time to game plan yet,” Justin replied, only half telling the truth. He knew where he’d be starting — back home, in Connecticut.

— — — — — — — — — — —

Which model should be Justin’s kickoff damsel?

A) Image
B) Image
C) Image

Thanks for voting!
Last edited by TapeTurtle 19 hours ago, edited 12 times in total.
TapeTurtle
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Post by TapeTurtle »

I created a Flickr album of potential damsels, if anyone would like to begin their nominations there!

Here’s the link:

https://www.flickr.com/gp/200464196@N02/58nX6Ck85r
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Post by TheDapperKing »

I don't know why but this is reminding me of this old flash game called Franks Adventure lol where you had to go around collecting nude photos to sell lol
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Post by TapeTurtle »

Just looked it up — that’s really funny. Hopefully this story will be more fun and a little more consensual.
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Post by ninterz »

Thinking about it he should start with C
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Post by Caesar73 »

Would go for B :)
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Post by AlexUSA3 »

I'll go with B as well.

Good grief, there is a lot of botox in there. With that much botox, Jason will inevitably cause one or more of the girls to burst when he tries to steal a naughty squeeze.
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Post by Switcher1313 »

B please.
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Post by GagFan96 »

I gotta go with C.
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Post by TapeTurtle »

Model B is the Winner!

Chapter 2: Connecticut

Justin walked through the doors of Spinteck, an incredibly small IT firm he used to work at based in his home town of Meriden, CT. Besides his backpack, he was holding a large brown paper bag. He waved hello to the receptionist, who grinned and stood up to give him a hug.

“So good to see you Justin! You look well! What are you doing here so late? It’s almost 5:00! If you’re here to visit, almost everyone has gone home.”

“Oh I figured. I’m just here to see one person. Is Anjali still here?”

“You know she is — she’s always the last one to leave. She locks up for me most nights in fact.” The receptionist began gathering her belongings. “Which actually is a good transition. I’m heading out for the day. Will you tell your family I said hi? And remind Anjali to get ALL the lights turned off this time. She forgot yesterday and I got an earful.”

“I’ll make sure. So good to see you.” After another polite hug, she walked out the door, and Justin made his way into the office, then did a quick scan of the room. The managers offices were all empty, as were all five desks in the bullpen, save one, where one brown haired young woman was working diligently at her computer with her back to the door. She was wearing a tight, plain gray t shirt, yellow pants, and a pair of white sneakers.

“Shouldn’t you be heading home? You never know who might wander in after hours at a place like this,” Justin called out. His best friend, Anjali, span around in her chair.

“Holy shit. Holy shit!!! What are you doing here?” She charged up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. “You couldn’t make it a full month without seeing me again, could you?”

“The pain of separation was unbearable. You complete me.” Justin gave his friend a shit-eating grin, which was met by a punch to the stomach. Anjali was right though — Justin had just been home to visit his dad after his mom had passed away several months ago, after only usually making it back two or three times a year. “I brought us dinner,” Justin continued, showing her the bag. “And wine. Are you down to hang out for a while?”

The two ate and drank for over and hour, catching up on work, family, and eventually, after their second bottle of wine, Justin’s new challenge.

“Hold up. You’re traveling around tying girls up to win a car?” Anjali squinted unsure whether or not her friend was joking, refilling her wine glass. “That’s not real.”

“It’s real.” Justin held out a photo on his phone. “Here’s the car.”

“That’s not…Justin…is that the same one?”

“Good memory. It is. Same kind my dad sold to help care for mom. And I might be able to get a new one for free.”

“Okay. Well shit. I guess…I guess it’s a worthy cause.” Anjali sipped her wine. “So how many have you managed so far?”

“Zero. Came back home to try and find someone to start.”

Anjali raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Where do you suppose you’ll start looking. Kind of a small town. Not a lot fish in the lake, if you catch my drift.” She took another sip of one as Justin grinned sheepishly. Anjali glanced at her friend’s backpack. “Oh…so…me.”

Justin’s face went red. “I was hoping so, yeah. It would just be for a few minutes. I hate asking, but maybe we can head to your apartment and do it really fast and then I’ll be gone and owe you for the rest of my life.” Anjali seemed to recoil at how fast her friend was talking now.

Anjali sighed, then stood up, swaying a little, brushing the small flecks of crumbs off of her shirt. “No — that’s ok. Let’s just knock it out here. What do you need?”

Justin went white. “Here!? I mean…thank you, you’re amazing, you’re unbelievable, but…here? You’re not going to get in trouble?”

“Trouble???” Anjali scoffed, almost offended at the suggestion. “I run this place, Justin, don’t you remember? I’m untouchable!” She began talking louder. “In fact…” moving quickly, and clearly inebriated, Anjali loosed the drawstrings on her pants, sliding them off onto the floor, exposing her tone, bare, deep brown legs. “I can do whatever I want in here!”

The two laughed hysterically. “Okay then, if you’re so sure!” Justin moved to his backpack and pulled out a roll of chrome sliver duct tape.

“Oh — shiny. You’re gonna make me look pretty in that!” Anjali snorted laughing, before turning around and placing her hands behind her back.

She was right. She did look pretty. When Justin finished, he took a few steps back to look at her. The duct tape had been wrapped around her wrists behind her back, but also above and below Anjali’s incredible chest, making her breasts balloon outward into the gray fabric of her shirt. Her bare legs were taped at the knees and ankles. Finally, her full lips had been concealed behind a band of taped that had been wrapped around her head several times, making her cheeks bulge. Anjali giggled into the gag and tried to smile as Justin raised his phone to take a picture.

“Mmmmmmpppphhhhhh,” She tried to say as the flash when off, laughing hysterically and trying to wrest her arms and legs free from the tape. “Fffhmm hmm fhfpmhmmm.”

“Why thank you,” replied Justin. “Now, what says we make this fun? If you can escape that, I’ll send you lunch at the office once a month.”

Anjali nodded her head vigorously, hopping around the office to find some leverage, her heavy breasts swinging with her every movement. Justin turned his back to her and looked at his phone. In a text to Henry, his friend, he attached the picture of the bound and gagged Anjali with the caption: “Connecticut — 1/50.”

Within moments his phone pinged. It was Henry replying. “Holy shit dude. Way to fucking go. Didn’t think you’d pull off even one. Wishing you luck. Long way to go.”

Justin grinned as he put his phone in his pocket, sitting back in an office chair, content to watch his tape bound and gagged best friend hop around the office until the morning came.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Next Chapter, will Justin be tying…

A) Image
B) Image
C) Image

You Decide!
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Post by Ducttapelover93 »

Love the idea of this story! My vote is for C.
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Post by ninterz »

Nice part.
Going for A
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Post by TapeTurtle »

Thanks to those who have voted so far! I’ve also finished the Flickr album if anyone would like to nominate a model for future stories.
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Post by KCMand »

My vote is A
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Post by TapeTurtle »

Model A is the winner!

Image

(Switching the story to first person -- hope you enjoy!)

Chapter 3: Rhode Island (Part 1)

It was Anjali's idea, actually, to begin using a dating app to find women to bind for Henry's challenge. Being more reserved romantically, I had never used one before, and was surprised to hear just how effective it might be in meeting girls across the country wherever I went.

You're a smoke show, Justin -- you'll match with whoever you want. Just don't mention the bondage thing too early; that's a bit of a red flag on the Tindr these days." Jokes aside, I knew she was probably right. I sprang up to 6'3" in high school, managed to put on some decent muscle fairly quickly through football, and haven't struggled to gain a woman's attention since -- even though I rarely ever know what to do with it. "If ever there was a time to start acting like a smoking-hot womanizer, it's now." Anjali laughed. "Just promise me you'll at least be kind to these girls."

It turns out that she was right. Upon downloading the app in my hotel room, I matched within 5 minutes to a blonde, gorgeous woman named Diane. The notification seemed surreal as it bled across my phone screen. She worked at a library just a few minutes away, across the state line in Foster, Rhode Island. She sent me a message saying if I was free and could pick her up from work that afternoon, she'd love to have dinner. It was an easy way to potentially cross off a whole state from my list. I nervously confirmed, made a reservation at a bistro near the library, and our date was set.

My plan was to woo Diane over dinner and potentially convince her to come back to my hotel room, where I had stashed a few rolls of duct tape and several ropes in the closet. Maybe she would be willing to partake in the challenge, maybe she wouldn't.

Pulling into the library parking lot, a text message appeared on my phone, and dashed my plan upon the rocks.

"I'm so sorry. I'm not going to be able to come to dinner. I was walking out to the parking lot and my boss says I have to close up tonight. I even got changed and everything. I promise I didn't stand you up. I'm so, so sorry."

Crestfallen, and trying to be understanding, I put my car in park and thought for a few moments. Before I could devise a new plan, with potentially a new girl some other evening, a light tapping on my window startled me back to the present.

"Are you Justin?" Leaning over to look into the car at me, was a tall, toned blonde woman in a tight robins-egg dress. I found myself relatively speechless as I made contact with her sharp blue eyes, and struggled to keep my gaze off of her incredible cleavage, which pushed firmly against the top of the dress. "It's Diane. I'm so sorry. Can we talk?"

I stepped out of the car and reached out my hand. "Please don't apologize. Things happen. No hard feelings." She smiled sweetly at me. "It's still a pleasure to meet you."

Diane chuckled. "Thank you for being understanding. I feel horrible. But this job means the world to me. And you drove from Connecticutt?"

"Just like 15 minutes. It's not a problem, I promise. Maybe we can reschedule for tomorrow?"

"I can't -- I'm leaving town tomorrow for a conference on information technology. My boss is making me go."

"She really is working you to the bone, isn't she?"

"You have no idea. I wouldn't be surprised if she made me work late just to spite me. She's not even here anymore. Nobody is. Now I just get to babysit an empty building."

A thought popped into my mind. Trying not to be nervous (as nerves were going to be a problem if I were ever going to win this challenge), I grinned. "It's empty, huh?"

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Diane and I ended up talking for almost an hour until the end of her shift, when it was time to lock the doors and perform one last walk through the library to ensure everything was in order. She offered to take me on a brief tour of the building, saying it was just as useful in getting to know her as talking was. I offered to wait for her to change back into her more comfortable clothes, but she insisted that we were still on a proper date and she needed to look her best -- which she absolutley did.

We roamed aisle after aisle, weaving between subject shelves and making small talk about authors and books we're drawn to. It was, admittedly, hard for me to focus on the topics of books watching her bright blue-covered hips swaying ahead of me. After forty minutes, I I decided it was time to start making my move.

"This is incredible, Diane. Y'all really have an impressive range of literature in here."

"That we do. I curate it myself -- which is more than I am paid to do. Name a topic -- I bet we have something in here on it." I smiled to myself, seeing an opening.

"Modernist women poets?"

"Of course -- we have three or four volumes on Marianne Moore alone!"

"Brazillian cuisine."

Diane laughed. "Cookbooks and culinary histories are downstairs."

I laughed. "Wow. Okay. Let me try something harder. What about...a bondage photography book?"

Diane turned back to me, her cheeks red and eyebrow raised. "What did you say?"

"Like a book of photos...with pictures of people tied up? Isn't that a thing? It's a type of art, I'm pretty sure."

Diane played along, smirking, but cautious. "Art. Uh huh. Sure. I've never seen one, if it is."

"Well than I guess this library isn't all that fantastic...the lead curator hasn't even procured a bondage book!" I chuckled sarcastically as Diane's face went red.

She smiled and punched me playfully in the shoulder. "Give me a break. I'll order one here in the next week or so and then we'll see who's laughing."

I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Or we could just make one ourselves tonight..."

After a short moment of genuine stunned silence, Diane grinned, biting her lip and taking a step toward me. "Well that would be more expedient, wouldn't it?"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a small little reading area, with a sofa, coffee table, and a few reading chairs. She shoved me seductively onto the sofa and begin putting her hair up into a ponytail. "Stay here. I'll be right back," she said, grinning and walking away into the darkened aisles of the library.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- --

TO BE CONTINUED...
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