Thanks a lot for your continued support.
Spy Camp (m+f+/m+f+) Part 38
I will pause this story for now.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
This continues to be an amazing read, I had been wondering how people would find out how far Giselle had gotten with the hostage. It's also nice to see the relationship between Giselle and Eight develop throughout this entire story.
I believe you would be a lot more comfortable in ropes
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Shame this story is put on hold but I understand, great writing takes effort!
- Mineira1986
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 619
- Joined: 4 years ago
It was fun to read about the "punishment" for Swift Fox. Also, surprised to see them getting a win.
And sad this story gets a pause. Hopefully, it won't be too long =).
And sad this story gets a pause. Hopefully, it won't be too long =).
"Swift Fox, why not?" chimed Red Deer.
"Yeah, come on. My singing isn't fantastic either," Tarantula added. "I won't laugh. Promised."
"Else, you stay here all night. I have the keys," Willet joked, but Giselle reckoned it was not a genuine threat. Her hands were cuffed above her, and a rope fixed her legs and waist to the vertical pipe. She being coerced into taking part in the karaoke.
"I'll assist you," Eight spoke from behind the piano. "I bet you know this one."
The tunes of a decade-old Disney song filled the basement, and six pairs of eyes scrutinized Giselle. Of course, all girls of her generation had listened to the song a hundred times, and the catchy lyrics were slammed into their souls until the end of days. Most other songs had been pop, although Macaw had picked old-school Kate Bush and Grease. Singing a children's song made things even more embarrassing.
After the familiar pause before the first verse, Giselle opened her mouth and let the words flow out. Eight's eyes lit up, and a pure smile formed on her lips as Giselle's self-described bleating and screeching filled the basement. She joined in the chorus. Her voice was soft, clear, and pitch-perfect while she looked casual. She was not even trying.
A few minutes later, the torment was over. The ground could not swallow Giselle as her hands were still cuffed above her.
"Bravo, bravo," Willet said, applauding. "You have a good voice, Fox. Very tender."
"Excellent," Eight said. "Do you want to do another?"
Giselle wanted to bob her head but was interrupted by a knock behind her. Ithaca stood in the open door. "Girls, could you untie Swift Fox, please? I need to borrow her for a minute."
Untied, she walked up the stairs. "Washington wants to talk to you," Ithaca explained, causing the cogs In Giselle's head to turn. She had despised the karaoke, but she had joined the karaoke to avoid this exact scenario. Antoinette had been around yesterday and was likely still today. Hence, Giselle had to lay low or appear busy with other things, so the karaoke was perfect. Now senseless counselors forced them together. The trap was even too obvious for a children's cartoon.
"Mind if I quickly go the bathroom?"
"Yeah, sure."
Around the corner, Giselle opened the bathroom door and let it slam itself shut. She sneaked through an emergency exit door and ran up the seven floors of staircases. There were no CCTV cameras here. After verifying the rusty trapdoor was not connected to an alarm, Giselle ascended the ladder to the roof. The unseasonable weather was still wetter than an ocean, so Giselle closed the trapdoor and lay behind an AC unit.
Soon, Giselle was as wet as a drowned rat but could not care less. She could sit here all night if it meant avoiding this confrontation. Adults never listened to her nor respected her opinion. The bridges were burned. She had no intention of forgiving as no one recognized her feelings. Or maybe they did, but only as long as it benefitted them. Whatever Antoinette desired, it would not be out of kindness.
Running from your problems might be for cowards, but Giselle favored the consequences rather than becoming a rollover again. Maybe she was even kicked from the camp. She was willing to pay the price for her principles.
One might expect Giselle to be sobbing or angry on top of the office building, shivering from the cold. But she was satisfied and yawned. She had been given little choice in this cruel world. She lay on her back, watching the dark grey skies, and accepted the soaked tracksuit. She had hidden for longer in more uncomfortable places. She contemplated she should have run into the forest, but there was a decent chance they would track her down, and getting lost carried risks. During her capture after the mission, Giselle had done the calculations that led her here.
They were straightforward.
She had told nobody she had learned Antoinette was here, so it would take them maybe half an hour to deduce that. Only Eight had known her hiding place during the mission, and Washington was smart enough to connect the dots. He would start a search, and she would come out eventually, proving her point. Then Antoinette would be forced to retreat while she faced discipline.
It should have been a watertight plan.
Emphasis on should have been.
It had only been 40 minutes before Giselle heard the trapdoor open. There was no other way to leave the roof, so she stared up, awaiting the inevitable. Footsteps neared. It was only one pair.
"Giselle?"
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
"GO AWAY!" Giselle replied. "I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!" she screamed.
"Giselle, please, calm down," Antoinette said, grabbing the girl's arm.
"Then I say it calmly. I do not want to see you ever again. I don't want to hear from you ever again. Goodbye. This conversation is over. Now fuck off."
Giselle tried to wrestle free, but Antoinette did not let go. She was almost two feet taller. "I am trying to help you, okay? Don't be so stubborn for once." She whipped out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed one of Giselle's wrists to a handrail.
"You are even more delusional than I imagined," Giselle sneered. "Get these things of me and leave me alone. How is that unclear?"
"I cannot stand and watch as you squander your life. Yes, I have made mistakes and suffer more shame and remorse than you can imagine, but please, sweet Giselle, I care dearly about you. You are super clever, creative, persistent, and courageous. I want nothing more than to see you succeed in life, and what I heard the past year about you hurts. If you don't want me, sure, I understand, but at least try to make something out of it."
"I can take care of myself. Thank you for the shitty offer. Now let me go and disappear forever."
Antoinette resumed her pleas. "Let me give you the facts. You are 16. You hang out and drink near that train bridge with a drug dealer, two broke drop-outs, and a woman with a history of domestic violence against her younger siblings. Your average grade dropped from an A- to a C in less than a year. You got in school suspension seven times since Christmas. You left all your extracurricular clubs, often with fighting. You have no friends anymore and despise your family. Is that taking care of yourself?"
"Fuck off."
"Oh, and you swear like a sailor now. Where is this going?"
"None of your business."
"It is now. Recall yesterday's mission? You still have it if you want. You can accomplish so much if you try. Focus on the present and future instead of the past. That is difficult, but it will bring you joy instead of only anger and resentment. We were young and made many mistakes. You suffered greatly from them. Try to heal. Find positive influences."
If Giselle had been looking at Antoinette, she would have seen the tears on the wet skin. She had adopted the strategy of ignoring.
"I still have contact with many good friends I made here, at Spy Camp. There are talented, witty people from all walks of life. Whatever we did with WeWereThere, you can learn and use here. Try to enjoy it. If you ever need anything: money, help, or a proper conversation, message me. I care deeply about you, Giselle."
With those words, Giselle received the key to the cuffs, which she opened quickly. "I need nothing from you. I want nothing from you. I will not forgive you."
Giselle walked away to the trapdoor and climbed down, where Ithaca awaited. Giselle ignored her and went down, hearing she was being trailed.
Giselle did not care. She entered a toilet cubicle and locked it before Ithaca could interfere. She eyed the door in anger, not allowing the counselor to hear her weeping.
"Yeah, come on. My singing isn't fantastic either," Tarantula added. "I won't laugh. Promised."
"Else, you stay here all night. I have the keys," Willet joked, but Giselle reckoned it was not a genuine threat. Her hands were cuffed above her, and a rope fixed her legs and waist to the vertical pipe. She being coerced into taking part in the karaoke.
"I'll assist you," Eight spoke from behind the piano. "I bet you know this one."
The tunes of a decade-old Disney song filled the basement, and six pairs of eyes scrutinized Giselle. Of course, all girls of her generation had listened to the song a hundred times, and the catchy lyrics were slammed into their souls until the end of days. Most other songs had been pop, although Macaw had picked old-school Kate Bush and Grease. Singing a children's song made things even more embarrassing.
After the familiar pause before the first verse, Giselle opened her mouth and let the words flow out. Eight's eyes lit up, and a pure smile formed on her lips as Giselle's self-described bleating and screeching filled the basement. She joined in the chorus. Her voice was soft, clear, and pitch-perfect while she looked casual. She was not even trying.
A few minutes later, the torment was over. The ground could not swallow Giselle as her hands were still cuffed above her.
"Bravo, bravo," Willet said, applauding. "You have a good voice, Fox. Very tender."
"Excellent," Eight said. "Do you want to do another?"
Giselle wanted to bob her head but was interrupted by a knock behind her. Ithaca stood in the open door. "Girls, could you untie Swift Fox, please? I need to borrow her for a minute."
Untied, she walked up the stairs. "Washington wants to talk to you," Ithaca explained, causing the cogs In Giselle's head to turn. She had despised the karaoke, but she had joined the karaoke to avoid this exact scenario. Antoinette had been around yesterday and was likely still today. Hence, Giselle had to lay low or appear busy with other things, so the karaoke was perfect. Now senseless counselors forced them together. The trap was even too obvious for a children's cartoon.
"Mind if I quickly go the bathroom?"
"Yeah, sure."
Around the corner, Giselle opened the bathroom door and let it slam itself shut. She sneaked through an emergency exit door and ran up the seven floors of staircases. There were no CCTV cameras here. After verifying the rusty trapdoor was not connected to an alarm, Giselle ascended the ladder to the roof. The unseasonable weather was still wetter than an ocean, so Giselle closed the trapdoor and lay behind an AC unit.
Soon, Giselle was as wet as a drowned rat but could not care less. She could sit here all night if it meant avoiding this confrontation. Adults never listened to her nor respected her opinion. The bridges were burned. She had no intention of forgiving as no one recognized her feelings. Or maybe they did, but only as long as it benefitted them. Whatever Antoinette desired, it would not be out of kindness.
Running from your problems might be for cowards, but Giselle favored the consequences rather than becoming a rollover again. Maybe she was even kicked from the camp. She was willing to pay the price for her principles.
One might expect Giselle to be sobbing or angry on top of the office building, shivering from the cold. But she was satisfied and yawned. She had been given little choice in this cruel world. She lay on her back, watching the dark grey skies, and accepted the soaked tracksuit. She had hidden for longer in more uncomfortable places. She contemplated she should have run into the forest, but there was a decent chance they would track her down, and getting lost carried risks. During her capture after the mission, Giselle had done the calculations that led her here.
They were straightforward.
She had told nobody she had learned Antoinette was here, so it would take them maybe half an hour to deduce that. Only Eight had known her hiding place during the mission, and Washington was smart enough to connect the dots. He would start a search, and she would come out eventually, proving her point. Then Antoinette would be forced to retreat while she faced discipline.
It should have been a watertight plan.
Emphasis on should have been.
It had only been 40 minutes before Giselle heard the trapdoor open. There was no other way to leave the roof, so she stared up, awaiting the inevitable. Footsteps neared. It was only one pair.
"Giselle?"
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
"GO AWAY!" Giselle replied. "I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!" she screamed.
"Giselle, please, calm down," Antoinette said, grabbing the girl's arm.
"Then I say it calmly. I do not want to see you ever again. I don't want to hear from you ever again. Goodbye. This conversation is over. Now fuck off."
Giselle tried to wrestle free, but Antoinette did not let go. She was almost two feet taller. "I am trying to help you, okay? Don't be so stubborn for once." She whipped out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed one of Giselle's wrists to a handrail.
"You are even more delusional than I imagined," Giselle sneered. "Get these things of me and leave me alone. How is that unclear?"
"I cannot stand and watch as you squander your life. Yes, I have made mistakes and suffer more shame and remorse than you can imagine, but please, sweet Giselle, I care dearly about you. You are super clever, creative, persistent, and courageous. I want nothing more than to see you succeed in life, and what I heard the past year about you hurts. If you don't want me, sure, I understand, but at least try to make something out of it."
"I can take care of myself. Thank you for the shitty offer. Now let me go and disappear forever."
Antoinette resumed her pleas. "Let me give you the facts. You are 16. You hang out and drink near that train bridge with a drug dealer, two broke drop-outs, and a woman with a history of domestic violence against her younger siblings. Your average grade dropped from an A- to a C in less than a year. You got in school suspension seven times since Christmas. You left all your extracurricular clubs, often with fighting. You have no friends anymore and despise your family. Is that taking care of yourself?"
"Fuck off."
"Oh, and you swear like a sailor now. Where is this going?"
"None of your business."
"It is now. Recall yesterday's mission? You still have it if you want. You can accomplish so much if you try. Focus on the present and future instead of the past. That is difficult, but it will bring you joy instead of only anger and resentment. We were young and made many mistakes. You suffered greatly from them. Try to heal. Find positive influences."
If Giselle had been looking at Antoinette, she would have seen the tears on the wet skin. She had adopted the strategy of ignoring.
"I still have contact with many good friends I made here, at Spy Camp. There are talented, witty people from all walks of life. Whatever we did with WeWereThere, you can learn and use here. Try to enjoy it. If you ever need anything: money, help, or a proper conversation, message me. I care deeply about you, Giselle."
With those words, Giselle received the key to the cuffs, which she opened quickly. "I need nothing from you. I want nothing from you. I will not forgive you."
Giselle walked away to the trapdoor and climbed down, where Ithaca awaited. Giselle ignored her and went down, hearing she was being trailed.
Giselle did not care. She entered a toilet cubicle and locked it before Ithaca could interfere. She eyed the door in anger, not allowing the counselor to hear her weeping.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Glad you continued this tale. A pretty intense Chapter. Especially the Confrontation of Giselle and Antoinette on the Roof. Antoinette has made a lot of valid points. But in her current frame of Mind Giselle is not able - no, I would go for "not willing" - the truth besides Antoinettes Words. Antoinette is trying to make amends. Seriously.
The close of the Chapter is pretty telling: Giselle fleeing, hiding - and crying.
The close of the Chapter is pretty telling: Giselle fleeing, hiding - and crying.
- slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2644
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
So true. Glad you continues this story.Beaumains wrote: ↑4 months ago You can accomplish so much if you try. Focus on the present and future instead of the past. That is difficult, but it will bring you joy instead of only anger and resentment. We were young and made many mistakes. You suffered greatly from them. Try to heal. Find positive influences."
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 8/05
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 7/05
- Hitchhiker - Updated 11/05
I am delighted you have taken up this story again, @Beaumains. I have enjoyed it, and once more, I am left wondering where you will go with this. Well done and thank you.
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51935021448_8459ac441e_o.jpg)
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Read the first few chapters and so far I really enjoy it. Giselle is really a cool character, you certainly put quite a lot of thought into this!
Yeah, Giselle is not completely perfect or in the right, but it is just a very messy situation.Caesar73 wrote: ↑4 months ago Glad you continued this tale. A pretty intense Chapter. Especially the Confrontation of Giselle and Antoinette on the Roof. Antoinette has made a lot of valid points. But in her current frame of Mind Giselle is not able - no, I would go for "not willing" - the truth besides Antoinettes Words. Antoinette is trying to make amends. Seriously.
The close of the Chapter is pretty telling: Giselle fleeing, hiding - and crying.
I think I will write two more chapters of this story before deciding on what I will write next. I had some time on my hand during my Christmas break.
Thanks a lot! I am glad you like Giselle.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
"Make groups of three and enter 10 minutes apart," Cassandra explained. The previous night, she had played the kidnap victim. Tonight, she organized a haunted house with the other former campers who had remained for another day. "Follow the lights and complete the tasks. That is if you are brave enough to come."
Giselle giggled from the back. It was nine o'clock, and she had only returned five minutes ago, drawing many stares and even more whispering. Well past dinnertime, Giselle had left the toilet cubicle. Washington had forced her to eat in his office under a long, tense conversation. She was still furious he had planned to trap her together with Antoinette. It had been yet another betrayal.
"Fox, Bee? Team?" Eight asked.
"Sure," Giselle smiled fakely. "It will be my pleasure to witness you shit your pants." Willet and Tarantula would only use it as an opportunity to question her. Spider Octopus and Honeybee were more relaxed and less ambitious. The three commanders had all been fired after the debacle, which made many jittery.
"Yeah, you're known to be fearless," Eight replied as the three girls separated themselves from the rest. "But now the more important question: did you receive an offer?" she inquired. "You were gone for hours."
"For what?"
"To be a commander, of course. Everyone is talking about it."
"Why would I become commander?"
"Because you single-handedly saved yesterday's mission and performed well in most other missions and games," Eight continued. "I'm certain you have a good shot."
Giselle scuffed. "No, not at all. That would surprise me. Washington is not a big fan of me. Besides, even if I got the offer miraculously, I would decline it. I'm not interested in descending to these dirty political games."
Honeybee locked eyes with Eight, not knowing how to respond to Giselle's statement.
"Do with that information whatever you want. I couldn't care less."
"Eh, we still have an hour before our turn," Honeybee proposed, reading Giselle did not want to discuss anything now. "Shall we play a game?"
Giselle agreed, happy to turn the attention away from herself. Three boys joined them for the easy-to-explain card game, and the hour passed quickly. Orlando drove the three girls to the old factory and made them wear pink glowsticks around their necks, wrists, and ankles. They provided barely any light but made them visible from far away.
"Now we are truly sitting ducks," Honeybee joked, but Giselle noted it was a coping mechanism. She was nervous about a silly scare. Giselle had considered meeting Antoinette inside, but her enemy would not confront her again. The childish jump-scares in the dark did not feel threatening to Giselle, but she could not kick the tall girl down now.
The group passed the steel fences and followed the green glowsticks to a small building, escaping the rain. A ladder led to the tunnel system beneath the factory, and without hesitation, Giselle climbed down. It smelled good. Old, moldy, rusty, and dusty.
As Eight entered, Giselle noticed a vague footstep in the distance. Another one followed from the exact same location. And one more. There had to be a speaker making the sound of a single footstep. Trailed by the others, Giselle made her way through the white smoke from the machine. She would never see anyone jump. Luckily for her, this tunnel was a warm-up as only one man attempted to scare, picking Eight in the back as his target. She chuckled and said "boo back," unimpressed.
Passing four black curtains, they entered a well-lit room that killed everyone's night vision. On a table in the middle lay a paper that Giselle read aloud. One brave soul has to continue this torment while deaf.
"I don't mind," Giselle expressed. It was more challenging, but the intentions were trivially easy to read. "I predict they'll hand out more handicaps. You decide."
"I will do it," Honeybee scrambled. During the mission, she remained in the command center. Eight had said she was a grey hat hacker and felt all but comfortable during these games.
"Cool," Giselle replied, grabbing a brown leather cap marked S. It resembled an old-school aviator hat but had much thicker padding around the ears. Giselle clipped it in place.
"You look fabulous," Eight said softly from behind, yet Honeybee barely reacted. She had noticed words were spoken but could not discern their direction or message. "Let's continue."
The next corridor was long, silent, lit by candles with a few hidden speakers making ghostly sounds. Most strikingly, in the end, there hung a figure clothed in a long, white, bloodstained dress. She was chained in an X-shape and hung from the wall. Her arms were covered by mud, and she stared at the ground, letting her hair cover her face.
"This actually looks good," Giselle whispered to Eight as they approached. It goes without saying that these weirdos had opted for real bondage.
Giselle led the bunch and smirked when Cassandra raised her head. "RUN, YOU FOOLS!" she shrieked. "GO! NEVER RETURN!"
Giselle turned around as a woman clothed as the grim reaper herself approached Eight.
"Shall we continue?" the actress whispered. "What are you looking at?" She turned around. "Ouhh," she called involuntarily, seeing the skull a few inches away.
"RUN, THY FOOLS!" Cassandra reiterated, and the three continued.
In the next corridor, Spider Octopus approached Giselle. "Why did you do that?"
"Why not? Or did she scare you?" Giselle jested. "Is our little octopus afraid?"
Eight laughed and grabbed Giselle's shoulder. "I will get you back," she hissed playfully. "I promise."
"Do your worst," Giselle replied as they entered a room lit with purple light. On the table in the middle awaited another letter. Honeybee read it. Another brave soul will continue this torment while blind.
"It's you or me," Giselle said to Eight. She picked up the blindfolds, which were black caps that covered most of the head. They only left their ears, mouth, and nose free. "You pick as I betrayed you earlier."
Eight laughed. "That's not fair. Be honest: Do you want to do it?"
"Perhaps. You decide."
"You're cruel, Swift Fox," Eight smiled. "Why do you want to play mind games?"
"It is all your decision. Do whatever," Giselle replied, curious how her friend would handle the situation. "Get me back if you want. You wanted revenge, right?"
The cogs spun in the actress' head as she pulled the hat over her head and tightened the straps. "I will do it," she voiced, allowing Giselle to tie the black cloth around her head.
Another set of stairs let further into the earth. It was dusk outside, but there was no natural light down there. Giselle had once explored an old silver mine for a video, so she was not impressed. Holding hands, they sneaked through a narrow passage filled with white smoke. Sounds of rats played over a few speakers at ground level, and as they passed a point, a hidden speaker blasted the sound of an exploding pipe, causing Eight to jump. She was far less comfortable when blindfolded.
"It's okay. It's the same as before, which you also considered unscary," Giselle whispered condescendingly. Giselle was uneasy as she had to take care of her team, especially as they entered a small room that was a dead end. Only a small lamp above the door provided some light by illuminating the sign above: "Find a key each."
Needing hands to feel around in the smoky room, Giselle found three crates with hand-sized holes. Sleeves prevented the campers from looking inside. The keys had to be there.
"Shall I go first?" Giselle suggested after presenting her findings and placed her hand in the first hole. Honeybee would not understand her, but at least she saw what Giselle was doing.
Cold brushed Giselle's fingers as soon as her hand passed the black rubber sleeve. The deep box contained frigid water and ice blocks. She rolled up her sleeve, and having the shortest arms of all campers, she had to enter the hole up to her shoulder before being able to touch the bottom.
"It's so freaking freezing," Giselle complained as her skin was screaming.
"Sounds like a you-problem," Eight joked. "I would love to see your face now."
"We will wait until it's your turn," Giselle returned while finding the key at the bottom. When attempting to retract her arm, a rubber glove grasped it.
Giselle panicked. "Let me go!"
"What's happening?" Eight asked, smiling.
"Some fucker grabbed my arm."
Eight laughed, and Honeybee pulled the blind girl outside Giselle's reach. "And how does that feel?"
"This goddamn hurts!" Giselle screamed. "Get off me!"
"Maybe you should ask it nicely. Not everyone appreciates your profanity, Fox. Even monsters."
"Please?" Giselle added, and to her dismay, the hand let her go. Eight chortled, and Giselle had almost preferred the pain over this embarrassment. Of course, the scarer was listening. She put some ice water in Eight's neck and unlocked the padlock. "Your turn, miss Bravery."
Aiding Eight's hand to another crate, Giselle felt her trembling.
"Do you also hear squeaks inside?" Eight asked, putting her hand in the hole.
"That's why it's perfect for you."
Eight snickered before yelling. "There're rats inside."
"And a key as well, hopefully."
Eight smirked. The agony had disappeared as if Eight had convinced herself the rats were sweet baby bunnies. "Got it," she whispered, pulling her hand out. "I did this live on television once. Then you have to act scared. I prefer rodents over spiders or snakes. These appear to be tame. Pets, I suppose."
"So, you got the easy one," Giselle replied, not admitting another defeat as Eight screamed.
Yet, Eight had not expected that her ankles would be clasped. When she was let go, the three girls laughed. Giselle tapped Honeybee on her shoulder, and clearly, she was not looking forward to the task.
"It's a plate," the taller girl with short black hair stated. "There's a knife and also a fork."
"What's on the plate?" Eight questioned, forgetting Honeybee was practically deaf. She had not even heard Eight talking.
"That's disgusting... Absolutely vile. It's jiggly. Jelly. Do I have to eat it? There does not seem to be a key inside. No, please, no," she continued her monologue. She brought the fork that pierced a brown substance into her mouth and swallowed, coughing heavily. "No, nope. Is there water?"
Giselle looked around but saw nothing, and she shook her head.
From the crate, Honeybee now received a key and unlocked the door. From the corner of her eye, Giselle spotted her throwing something in a corner. She had not eaten the thing.
The next hallway let into another lit room that would introduce another handicap. Cocky, Giselle read the text aloud. Two of you have shown courage. However, one of you burdened up the other two with handicaps like a coward. Let us test our coward. Put a piece of spaghetti in your mouth like a bit-gag and secure it with tape. Removing, losing, or breaking the piece of spaghetti leads to a grueling punishment. Also, this weakling will lead the pack.
"You are screwed, Fox!" Eight laughed. "I made the correct bet, you little, little chicken."
Giselle was glad Eight could not see her blush. The worst handicap was last, as predicted, and Giselle had willingly sacrificed herself. Still, another dreadful prospect. Honeybee helped her secure the green fluorescent tape while pleased she was only deaf. The make-shift gag meant Giselle had to concentrate and could not flinch.
"Lead the way, Jellyfish," Eight replied, urging Giselle to climb the ladder to the main machine room. The Spy Camp alumni had decorated it nicely, hanging brightly colored Christmas lights, making it look like an industrial fey forest.
"Best set so far," Giselle wanted to tell her friend, but at the last moment, she remembered not to talk.
She wandered forward, impressed by the large room that now showed so much climbing potential. Still keenly aware the next fright was hers, she followed the lights on the grounds beaming. It did not take long before a chainsaw sounded in the distance, accompanied by the sound of dogs.
"RUN, RUN! Yes, RUN, you should!" a man screamed, and Giselle's first instinct was to laugh. She was anything but afraid of the crazy persona. As Eight and Honeybee took care of each other, she casually strolled forward. Racing forward like an idiot was not her instinct. She did not fit in the fight, fright, or flight instinct, fiercely preferring hide.
"RUN!"
Giselle laughed again at the awful voice acting. She strayed left of the lights, trying to find a machine where she could hide behind as the path got narrower and narrower. Finally, she spotted a gap a dozen feet ahead and rushed towards it, away from the path. Chainsawman was not far away, so Giselle ducked behind it to assess the situation.
Or at least Giselle tried.
As soon as Giselle passed the corner, she was pushed away in the air. Making a botched half-turn to catch herself, she shoved over the concrete floor head-first. She growled in pain, feeling blood drip over face.
"Ollie, off. Sit," a man shouted.
Giselle giggled from the back. It was nine o'clock, and she had only returned five minutes ago, drawing many stares and even more whispering. Well past dinnertime, Giselle had left the toilet cubicle. Washington had forced her to eat in his office under a long, tense conversation. She was still furious he had planned to trap her together with Antoinette. It had been yet another betrayal.
"Fox, Bee? Team?" Eight asked.
"Sure," Giselle smiled fakely. "It will be my pleasure to witness you shit your pants." Willet and Tarantula would only use it as an opportunity to question her. Spider Octopus and Honeybee were more relaxed and less ambitious. The three commanders had all been fired after the debacle, which made many jittery.
"Yeah, you're known to be fearless," Eight replied as the three girls separated themselves from the rest. "But now the more important question: did you receive an offer?" she inquired. "You were gone for hours."
"For what?"
"To be a commander, of course. Everyone is talking about it."
"Why would I become commander?"
"Because you single-handedly saved yesterday's mission and performed well in most other missions and games," Eight continued. "I'm certain you have a good shot."
Giselle scuffed. "No, not at all. That would surprise me. Washington is not a big fan of me. Besides, even if I got the offer miraculously, I would decline it. I'm not interested in descending to these dirty political games."
Honeybee locked eyes with Eight, not knowing how to respond to Giselle's statement.
"Do with that information whatever you want. I couldn't care less."
"Eh, we still have an hour before our turn," Honeybee proposed, reading Giselle did not want to discuss anything now. "Shall we play a game?"
Giselle agreed, happy to turn the attention away from herself. Three boys joined them for the easy-to-explain card game, and the hour passed quickly. Orlando drove the three girls to the old factory and made them wear pink glowsticks around their necks, wrists, and ankles. They provided barely any light but made them visible from far away.
"Now we are truly sitting ducks," Honeybee joked, but Giselle noted it was a coping mechanism. She was nervous about a silly scare. Giselle had considered meeting Antoinette inside, but her enemy would not confront her again. The childish jump-scares in the dark did not feel threatening to Giselle, but she could not kick the tall girl down now.
The group passed the steel fences and followed the green glowsticks to a small building, escaping the rain. A ladder led to the tunnel system beneath the factory, and without hesitation, Giselle climbed down. It smelled good. Old, moldy, rusty, and dusty.
As Eight entered, Giselle noticed a vague footstep in the distance. Another one followed from the exact same location. And one more. There had to be a speaker making the sound of a single footstep. Trailed by the others, Giselle made her way through the white smoke from the machine. She would never see anyone jump. Luckily for her, this tunnel was a warm-up as only one man attempted to scare, picking Eight in the back as his target. She chuckled and said "boo back," unimpressed.
Passing four black curtains, they entered a well-lit room that killed everyone's night vision. On a table in the middle lay a paper that Giselle read aloud. One brave soul has to continue this torment while deaf.
"I don't mind," Giselle expressed. It was more challenging, but the intentions were trivially easy to read. "I predict they'll hand out more handicaps. You decide."
"I will do it," Honeybee scrambled. During the mission, she remained in the command center. Eight had said she was a grey hat hacker and felt all but comfortable during these games.
"Cool," Giselle replied, grabbing a brown leather cap marked S. It resembled an old-school aviator hat but had much thicker padding around the ears. Giselle clipped it in place.
"You look fabulous," Eight said softly from behind, yet Honeybee barely reacted. She had noticed words were spoken but could not discern their direction or message. "Let's continue."
The next corridor was long, silent, lit by candles with a few hidden speakers making ghostly sounds. Most strikingly, in the end, there hung a figure clothed in a long, white, bloodstained dress. She was chained in an X-shape and hung from the wall. Her arms were covered by mud, and she stared at the ground, letting her hair cover her face.
"This actually looks good," Giselle whispered to Eight as they approached. It goes without saying that these weirdos had opted for real bondage.
Giselle led the bunch and smirked when Cassandra raised her head. "RUN, YOU FOOLS!" she shrieked. "GO! NEVER RETURN!"
Giselle turned around as a woman clothed as the grim reaper herself approached Eight.
"Shall we continue?" the actress whispered. "What are you looking at?" She turned around. "Ouhh," she called involuntarily, seeing the skull a few inches away.
"RUN, THY FOOLS!" Cassandra reiterated, and the three continued.
In the next corridor, Spider Octopus approached Giselle. "Why did you do that?"
"Why not? Or did she scare you?" Giselle jested. "Is our little octopus afraid?"
Eight laughed and grabbed Giselle's shoulder. "I will get you back," she hissed playfully. "I promise."
"Do your worst," Giselle replied as they entered a room lit with purple light. On the table in the middle awaited another letter. Honeybee read it. Another brave soul will continue this torment while blind.
"It's you or me," Giselle said to Eight. She picked up the blindfolds, which were black caps that covered most of the head. They only left their ears, mouth, and nose free. "You pick as I betrayed you earlier."
Eight laughed. "That's not fair. Be honest: Do you want to do it?"
"Perhaps. You decide."
"You're cruel, Swift Fox," Eight smiled. "Why do you want to play mind games?"
"It is all your decision. Do whatever," Giselle replied, curious how her friend would handle the situation. "Get me back if you want. You wanted revenge, right?"
The cogs spun in the actress' head as she pulled the hat over her head and tightened the straps. "I will do it," she voiced, allowing Giselle to tie the black cloth around her head.
Another set of stairs let further into the earth. It was dusk outside, but there was no natural light down there. Giselle had once explored an old silver mine for a video, so she was not impressed. Holding hands, they sneaked through a narrow passage filled with white smoke. Sounds of rats played over a few speakers at ground level, and as they passed a point, a hidden speaker blasted the sound of an exploding pipe, causing Eight to jump. She was far less comfortable when blindfolded.
"It's okay. It's the same as before, which you also considered unscary," Giselle whispered condescendingly. Giselle was uneasy as she had to take care of her team, especially as they entered a small room that was a dead end. Only a small lamp above the door provided some light by illuminating the sign above: "Find a key each."
Needing hands to feel around in the smoky room, Giselle found three crates with hand-sized holes. Sleeves prevented the campers from looking inside. The keys had to be there.
"Shall I go first?" Giselle suggested after presenting her findings and placed her hand in the first hole. Honeybee would not understand her, but at least she saw what Giselle was doing.
Cold brushed Giselle's fingers as soon as her hand passed the black rubber sleeve. The deep box contained frigid water and ice blocks. She rolled up her sleeve, and having the shortest arms of all campers, she had to enter the hole up to her shoulder before being able to touch the bottom.
"It's so freaking freezing," Giselle complained as her skin was screaming.
"Sounds like a you-problem," Eight joked. "I would love to see your face now."
"We will wait until it's your turn," Giselle returned while finding the key at the bottom. When attempting to retract her arm, a rubber glove grasped it.
Giselle panicked. "Let me go!"
"What's happening?" Eight asked, smiling.
"Some fucker grabbed my arm."
Eight laughed, and Honeybee pulled the blind girl outside Giselle's reach. "And how does that feel?"
"This goddamn hurts!" Giselle screamed. "Get off me!"
"Maybe you should ask it nicely. Not everyone appreciates your profanity, Fox. Even monsters."
"Please?" Giselle added, and to her dismay, the hand let her go. Eight chortled, and Giselle had almost preferred the pain over this embarrassment. Of course, the scarer was listening. She put some ice water in Eight's neck and unlocked the padlock. "Your turn, miss Bravery."
Aiding Eight's hand to another crate, Giselle felt her trembling.
"Do you also hear squeaks inside?" Eight asked, putting her hand in the hole.
"That's why it's perfect for you."
Eight snickered before yelling. "There're rats inside."
"And a key as well, hopefully."
Eight smirked. The agony had disappeared as if Eight had convinced herself the rats were sweet baby bunnies. "Got it," she whispered, pulling her hand out. "I did this live on television once. Then you have to act scared. I prefer rodents over spiders or snakes. These appear to be tame. Pets, I suppose."
"So, you got the easy one," Giselle replied, not admitting another defeat as Eight screamed.
Yet, Eight had not expected that her ankles would be clasped. When she was let go, the three girls laughed. Giselle tapped Honeybee on her shoulder, and clearly, she was not looking forward to the task.
"It's a plate," the taller girl with short black hair stated. "There's a knife and also a fork."
"What's on the plate?" Eight questioned, forgetting Honeybee was practically deaf. She had not even heard Eight talking.
"That's disgusting... Absolutely vile. It's jiggly. Jelly. Do I have to eat it? There does not seem to be a key inside. No, please, no," she continued her monologue. She brought the fork that pierced a brown substance into her mouth and swallowed, coughing heavily. "No, nope. Is there water?"
Giselle looked around but saw nothing, and she shook her head.
From the crate, Honeybee now received a key and unlocked the door. From the corner of her eye, Giselle spotted her throwing something in a corner. She had not eaten the thing.
The next hallway let into another lit room that would introduce another handicap. Cocky, Giselle read the text aloud. Two of you have shown courage. However, one of you burdened up the other two with handicaps like a coward. Let us test our coward. Put a piece of spaghetti in your mouth like a bit-gag and secure it with tape. Removing, losing, or breaking the piece of spaghetti leads to a grueling punishment. Also, this weakling will lead the pack.
"You are screwed, Fox!" Eight laughed. "I made the correct bet, you little, little chicken."
Giselle was glad Eight could not see her blush. The worst handicap was last, as predicted, and Giselle had willingly sacrificed herself. Still, another dreadful prospect. Honeybee helped her secure the green fluorescent tape while pleased she was only deaf. The make-shift gag meant Giselle had to concentrate and could not flinch.
"Lead the way, Jellyfish," Eight replied, urging Giselle to climb the ladder to the main machine room. The Spy Camp alumni had decorated it nicely, hanging brightly colored Christmas lights, making it look like an industrial fey forest.
"Best set so far," Giselle wanted to tell her friend, but at the last moment, she remembered not to talk.
She wandered forward, impressed by the large room that now showed so much climbing potential. Still keenly aware the next fright was hers, she followed the lights on the grounds beaming. It did not take long before a chainsaw sounded in the distance, accompanied by the sound of dogs.
"RUN, RUN! Yes, RUN, you should!" a man screamed, and Giselle's first instinct was to laugh. She was anything but afraid of the crazy persona. As Eight and Honeybee took care of each other, she casually strolled forward. Racing forward like an idiot was not her instinct. She did not fit in the fight, fright, or flight instinct, fiercely preferring hide.
"RUN!"
Giselle laughed again at the awful voice acting. She strayed left of the lights, trying to find a machine where she could hide behind as the path got narrower and narrower. Finally, she spotted a gap a dozen feet ahead and rushed towards it, away from the path. Chainsawman was not far away, so Giselle ducked behind it to assess the situation.
Or at least Giselle tried.
As soon as Giselle passed the corner, she was pushed away in the air. Making a botched half-turn to catch herself, she shoved over the concrete floor head-first. She growled in pain, feeling blood drip over face.
"Ollie, off. Sit," a man shouted.
Last edited by Beaumains 4 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
What happened to the adorable Giselle? Great again, @Beaumains. But what is a spaghetti bit-gag?
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51935021448_8459ac441e_o.jpg)
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Oops, that was an error. Fixed it. What I meant is to put a straw of raw spaghetti between your jaws and secure it. If you bite too hard, it breaks.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Fascinating and very inventive.
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51935021448_8459ac441e_o.jpg)
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
For a couple of minutes, Giselle had returned to the mandrill enclosure in the abandoned zoo. In a monkey onesie, she climbed around and swung tens of feet in the air using old ropes as the other members of WeWeThere filmed and laughed down below. Fifteen minutes later, police sirens would pollute the air. Only Jason and herself would remain uncaught by spending 23 hours in a food storage box for elephants.
Now, Giselle was less fortunate, waking up with fabric cuffs around her ankles and wrists. Despite being body-slammed by a dog twice her size, she had been pressured into accepting the punishment.
“Mornin’, Swift Fox,” a voice next to her whispered as Giselle admired the white ceiling colored by the shadows of the jail bars.
Giselle spun to Willet and greeted her back.
“Bad dream?” the former commander said softly. Cottontail was asleep and pressed her open hand against her mouth. She was the only other cowardly girl forced to spend the night in the mock jail cell due to breaking a strand of spaghetti.
“Yeah, rather stupid. Nothing interesting.”
Willet curled closer. Their beds were adjacent. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not really. It mostly was shock and disappointment,” Giselle responded. Band-aids covered her hands and face. “Give it a few days to heal. That’s all.” Only Willet was not gaping at the injuries, her eyes revealed. She wanted a close-up for another reason.
“I gotta ask you something bold. Is that alright?”
“Sure,” Giselle replied, internally tensing. Willet was constantly scheming and could not be trusted.
“You know, yesterday was strange... You were absent for ages. I wanna share a little theorem. Everyone believes it’s simply about you becoming a commander, but I conjecture there’s more. During dinner, I spotted a group of alumni in the back, with one woman wearing a baseball cap who had not been at lunch. She wasn’t interacting with us, nor was she here last year. That’s odd, isn’t it?”
Giselle agreed, understanding where this was going.
“I walked by and recognized her voice. From YouTube, the channel WeWereThere, to be exact. Antoinette. They do urban exploring.”
Giselle tensed and began counting to distract herself from the words and their combined meaning.
“It made me think. Why was she remaining in the background? Other semi-famous alumni don’t do that. She’d have fans here and could teach us. Why? It was a tough puzzle, but I concluded she attempted to protect you, or precisely, your identity. I believe you’re Gigi, their young member who disappeared two years ago. Am I correct?”
Spider Octopus had given Giselle a short lesson in lying. Deflect without being overly defensive. “Me? A YouTuber? I have the charisma of a McDonald’s toilet seat. That’s ludicrous, but I’ll take the compliment. Thanks. I wish I had such talent.”
“No, no, I’m serious. You have too much in common for a coincidence. You look alike, have that same squint with your eyes, speak French, and she is adventurous and amazing at sneaking and hiding like you. Have you heard of her?”
“I have seen some videos in the past, but I’m not a fan,” Giselle lied, keeping eye contact. “But it’s cool one of them was here. I’m not surprised. That’s the type of person invited here.”
Willet and Giselle took a quick peek at Cottontail, who appeared more at rest than an actual sleeping bunny.
“Excuse me if I’m wrong, Fox, but there are too many arguments for this theorem. Remember the hidden message game? I rewatched it yesterday, and you were comfortable on camera despite acting otherwise. You played me the first time, but it was on purpose. You have great comedic timing.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I used to play in my brothers’ short sketches before they moved out.” Giselle lied casually but saw Willet had convinced herself already of the contrary. “Nothing major. The best with me had around 3000 views. It was pretty cringy in hindsight.”
Willet worked her cuffed hands under Giselle’s blanket, clutching her hand. “That’s a shame. I used to be an enormous fan. They got me into adventures, and without them, I would not have been here.”
“Sorry, but you’re mistaken.”
Willet scuffed. “Then clarify why you’re here. A hint, at least. Convince me of the opposite.”
“I don’t owe you any explanation. Stop gaslighting me,” Giselle hissed, losing her temprum. “For you, I am Swift Fox. That’s all you need to know. A far-fetched theory will not lure me. The rules are clear. We’re not supposed to discuss our usual lives.”
Willet smiled and threw her head on her pillow, and Giselle followed her example as they awaited freedom. Again, Antoinette had messed it up. If Willet desired, the gossip would spread through the camp rapidly, and the former commander would blackmail her if that gave her a slight advantage. She had to consult Eight and inform her before Willet reached and asked directly. Sadly, restrained in the cell, Giselle was at the mercy of the alumni. She did not have to wait long.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Cassandra welcomed, now dressed in a simple pink t-shirt and a black skirt. “Did my prisoners sleep well?”
“Your hospitality could not be greater,” Willet answered. “Thanks!”
Using a small hatch in the door, Cassandra handed out breakfast trays before leaving her cuffed captives alone.
It was the usual breakfast, cereal, toast, and eggs, but it tasted worse for Giselle. “They don’t release us?” she complained.
Her more experienced companion chuckled. “It’s the same game as usual. Mind games. Allow them some fun, and don’t take it personally. Relax.”
“Why? Is it weird I despise being bullied?”
Cottontail snickered while drinking her orange juice, which was a poor combination. Willet bobbed her head and put a hand on Giselle’s shoulder. “It’s not bullying. It’s more like playing a board game or sports match and seeing the other team celebrate. Just don’t let it go to your ego. Enjoy the challenge, and don’t let them kick you down.”
Giselle scuffed and ate her breakfast in silence. She did not regret sacrificing herself for Eight and Honeybee but was angry she had not been warned of the consequences and the way she had failed.
When Cassandra returned with Celeste to collect the trays, her face read devious. “The classes are starting in half an hour. I suppose you want to freshen up and get ready for them?”
Giselle gave a death stare. It was bait. Willet and Cottontail also remained silent but nodded.
“Okay, but you’re still our jailbirds because you’re cowards… That’s a problem, isn’t it?”
Another silence ensued, and Giselle was not willing to play along.
“So, if you prove you’re brave and courageous, we’ll release you.”
Celeste brought a wheel divided into 20 sections, like a budget version of Wheel of Fortune. “It’s 50/50 between getting out or bound. Spin it, or I’ll free you after lunch. Your decision. Are you bold and take the gamble?”
Willet rose from the bed and put her cuffed hands between the bars. “I want a spin.” Celeste held the wheel and allowed Willet to spin it. It stabilized after ten seconds, and Willet illuminated. “Looks like I am free to go.”
Slightly disappointed, Cassandra opened the cell door and unlocked the teen’s cuff. “Who’s next?”
Cottontail dashed forward, smirking, and spun the wheel as well.
“Another lucky one,” Cassandra described, freeing the second of the three campers from the cell. Willet and Cottontail hugged and watched Giselle deliberate.
She could wait four more hours here, but taking the risk was the superior option. It was 50%, after all. She did not care about the classes, and the punishments on the wheel made her rethink. Labels like “cage,” “chair,” “cross,” and “yoke” did not spark joy.
Giselle sighed, grabbed the cardboard, and twisted it, watching the white sections circle around. The iron pins ticked against the red arrow, slowing it down. Giselle read the label twice. It did not read “freedom.” It read “mummy.”
“Mummification it will be,” Cassandra beamed. “Cottontail and Willet, you will be transported back to HQ. Swift Fox, please wait in the cell.”
Now, Giselle was less fortunate, waking up with fabric cuffs around her ankles and wrists. Despite being body-slammed by a dog twice her size, she had been pressured into accepting the punishment.
“Mornin’, Swift Fox,” a voice next to her whispered as Giselle admired the white ceiling colored by the shadows of the jail bars.
Giselle spun to Willet and greeted her back.
“Bad dream?” the former commander said softly. Cottontail was asleep and pressed her open hand against her mouth. She was the only other cowardly girl forced to spend the night in the mock jail cell due to breaking a strand of spaghetti.
“Yeah, rather stupid. Nothing interesting.”
Willet curled closer. Their beds were adjacent. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not really. It mostly was shock and disappointment,” Giselle responded. Band-aids covered her hands and face. “Give it a few days to heal. That’s all.” Only Willet was not gaping at the injuries, her eyes revealed. She wanted a close-up for another reason.
“I gotta ask you something bold. Is that alright?”
“Sure,” Giselle replied, internally tensing. Willet was constantly scheming and could not be trusted.
“You know, yesterday was strange... You were absent for ages. I wanna share a little theorem. Everyone believes it’s simply about you becoming a commander, but I conjecture there’s more. During dinner, I spotted a group of alumni in the back, with one woman wearing a baseball cap who had not been at lunch. She wasn’t interacting with us, nor was she here last year. That’s odd, isn’t it?”
Giselle agreed, understanding where this was going.
“I walked by and recognized her voice. From YouTube, the channel WeWereThere, to be exact. Antoinette. They do urban exploring.”
Giselle tensed and began counting to distract herself from the words and their combined meaning.
“It made me think. Why was she remaining in the background? Other semi-famous alumni don’t do that. She’d have fans here and could teach us. Why? It was a tough puzzle, but I concluded she attempted to protect you, or precisely, your identity. I believe you’re Gigi, their young member who disappeared two years ago. Am I correct?”
Spider Octopus had given Giselle a short lesson in lying. Deflect without being overly defensive. “Me? A YouTuber? I have the charisma of a McDonald’s toilet seat. That’s ludicrous, but I’ll take the compliment. Thanks. I wish I had such talent.”
“No, no, I’m serious. You have too much in common for a coincidence. You look alike, have that same squint with your eyes, speak French, and she is adventurous and amazing at sneaking and hiding like you. Have you heard of her?”
“I have seen some videos in the past, but I’m not a fan,” Giselle lied, keeping eye contact. “But it’s cool one of them was here. I’m not surprised. That’s the type of person invited here.”
Willet and Giselle took a quick peek at Cottontail, who appeared more at rest than an actual sleeping bunny.
“Excuse me if I’m wrong, Fox, but there are too many arguments for this theorem. Remember the hidden message game? I rewatched it yesterday, and you were comfortable on camera despite acting otherwise. You played me the first time, but it was on purpose. You have great comedic timing.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I used to play in my brothers’ short sketches before they moved out.” Giselle lied casually but saw Willet had convinced herself already of the contrary. “Nothing major. The best with me had around 3000 views. It was pretty cringy in hindsight.”
Willet worked her cuffed hands under Giselle’s blanket, clutching her hand. “That’s a shame. I used to be an enormous fan. They got me into adventures, and without them, I would not have been here.”
“Sorry, but you’re mistaken.”
Willet scuffed. “Then clarify why you’re here. A hint, at least. Convince me of the opposite.”
“I don’t owe you any explanation. Stop gaslighting me,” Giselle hissed, losing her temprum. “For you, I am Swift Fox. That’s all you need to know. A far-fetched theory will not lure me. The rules are clear. We’re not supposed to discuss our usual lives.”
Willet smiled and threw her head on her pillow, and Giselle followed her example as they awaited freedom. Again, Antoinette had messed it up. If Willet desired, the gossip would spread through the camp rapidly, and the former commander would blackmail her if that gave her a slight advantage. She had to consult Eight and inform her before Willet reached and asked directly. Sadly, restrained in the cell, Giselle was at the mercy of the alumni. She did not have to wait long.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Cassandra welcomed, now dressed in a simple pink t-shirt and a black skirt. “Did my prisoners sleep well?”
“Your hospitality could not be greater,” Willet answered. “Thanks!”
Using a small hatch in the door, Cassandra handed out breakfast trays before leaving her cuffed captives alone.
It was the usual breakfast, cereal, toast, and eggs, but it tasted worse for Giselle. “They don’t release us?” she complained.
Her more experienced companion chuckled. “It’s the same game as usual. Mind games. Allow them some fun, and don’t take it personally. Relax.”
“Why? Is it weird I despise being bullied?”
Cottontail snickered while drinking her orange juice, which was a poor combination. Willet bobbed her head and put a hand on Giselle’s shoulder. “It’s not bullying. It’s more like playing a board game or sports match and seeing the other team celebrate. Just don’t let it go to your ego. Enjoy the challenge, and don’t let them kick you down.”
Giselle scuffed and ate her breakfast in silence. She did not regret sacrificing herself for Eight and Honeybee but was angry she had not been warned of the consequences and the way she had failed.
When Cassandra returned with Celeste to collect the trays, her face read devious. “The classes are starting in half an hour. I suppose you want to freshen up and get ready for them?”
Giselle gave a death stare. It was bait. Willet and Cottontail also remained silent but nodded.
“Okay, but you’re still our jailbirds because you’re cowards… That’s a problem, isn’t it?”
Another silence ensued, and Giselle was not willing to play along.
“So, if you prove you’re brave and courageous, we’ll release you.”
Celeste brought a wheel divided into 20 sections, like a budget version of Wheel of Fortune. “It’s 50/50 between getting out or bound. Spin it, or I’ll free you after lunch. Your decision. Are you bold and take the gamble?”
Willet rose from the bed and put her cuffed hands between the bars. “I want a spin.” Celeste held the wheel and allowed Willet to spin it. It stabilized after ten seconds, and Willet illuminated. “Looks like I am free to go.”
Slightly disappointed, Cassandra opened the cell door and unlocked the teen’s cuff. “Who’s next?”
Cottontail dashed forward, smirking, and spun the wheel as well.
“Another lucky one,” Cassandra described, freeing the second of the three campers from the cell. Willet and Cottontail hugged and watched Giselle deliberate.
She could wait four more hours here, but taking the risk was the superior option. It was 50%, after all. She did not care about the classes, and the punishments on the wheel made her rethink. Labels like “cage,” “chair,” “cross,” and “yoke” did not spark joy.
Giselle sighed, grabbed the cardboard, and twisted it, watching the white sections circle around. The iron pins ticked against the red arrow, slowing it down. Giselle read the label twice. It did not read “freedom.” It read “mummy.”
“Mummification it will be,” Cassandra beamed. “Cottontail and Willet, you will be transported back to HQ. Swift Fox, please wait in the cell.”
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Loved the Conversations between the Characters - but that Giselle lost and her Cocaptives did not makes me think this Game was rigged. And imho I think Giselle has earned some better treatment long ago, her Captors enjoy that way too much - even if it is true that Giselle shoudln´t get that to her Ego. But that is just my opinion
Excellent chapter as always!
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
@Beaumains, this remains a joy to read. It is fun to be on the inside of Giselle's thoughts.
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51935021448_8459ac441e_o.jpg)
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Thanks a lot! I can assure you the game was not rigged, but its outcome was a conscious choice of the author. It is maybe a bit sad for Giselle, but I somehow have to get her involved into bondage for a story on this site. I promise I will go easy on her this time.Caesar73 wrote: ↑3 months ago Loved the Conversations between the Characters - but that Giselle lost and her Cocaptives did not makes me think this Game was rigged. And imho I think Giselle has earned some better treatment long ago, her Captors enjoy that way too much - even if it is true that Giselle shoudln´t get that to her Ego. But that is just my opinionExcellent chapter as always!
Thank you! Giselle is always a bit challenging to write for me, so I am glad you enjoy her thoughts.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
From under Cottontail’s bed, Giselle saw two pairs of feet appear. Celeste and Cassandra halted their conversation as Giselle was not cuffed, angry, and defeated in the cell.
“Has she escaped?” Cassandra questioned after a whisper that Giselle could not follow.
“Somehow… I guess. The padlock is still closed,” Celeste replied, opening it to check under the sheets. “She probably had lockpicks on her. Shall I call Washington?”
Somehow, Washington responded instantly. The exchange consisted of worse acting than a budget soap opera. “So, yeah, we’ll search for her. She should still be in the basement… Oh, of course, we’ll still tie her up. Nope, she won’t weasel her way out of that. Yes, it’ll be tight.”
“You go left. I go right,” Cassandra said after the call ended, and Giselle noted they did not go far. Celeste wore boots, and her steps went from loud to non-existent as if she had halted at once. Giselle’s weak hiding spot could not have been a more straightforward explanation for her disappearance. Giselle deduced they would be hiding behind a corner, about 100 feet away on both sides of the hallway, when she really made her escape. They had even left the cell door open. It was a trap.
Giselle contemplated for a minute as making a play and staying inside would lead to equally embarrassing defeats. She had to do something, even when the chances of success were almost zero.
Ears sharp, she crept from under the steel bed and wormed herself through the half-open door. Touching it could create sound. The narrow hallway had doors, and the one Giselle opened was just an empty closet. That was an awful hiding spot. She examined the hallway, knowing that she had to hide there, and there was shit all.
“Focus,” Giselle whispered to herself.
Her hand rested on the rough, white-painted concrete blocks in the renovated parts of the abandoned factory. There was nowhere to go in the narrow hallway, 12 feet high and barely 5 feet wide.
“There has to be something… There always is. I’m just blind. And stupid.”
Giselle looked up and noticed that the ceiling consisted of liftable tiles like those commonly used in gyms or schools to hide cables. However, it was 12 feet up, and those ceilings could not carry much weight, she knew from experience. Well, there was nothing else. Shuffling her cuffed feet to the other wall, she tensioned her muscles and began striding up the wall, pushing her body against both sides of the hallway. Staring at the ground below getting smaller, she shuffled up. Her muscles ached, not having practiced this move in months, but it was all within her ability. She was short and had the weight of her feather.
Lifting the tile up, Giselle realized her choice had been perfect. A thick steel support beam was installed next to the hole. Getting one hand around it, she released the tension in her body and hung above the hard floor, far below. The space between the tiles and the concrete above was small, two feet at most. Hence, pulling herself up was the hardest, especially while being cuffed. Giselle rested for half a minute before placing the tile back in place and turning the hidden space into darkness again.
For a ceiling, the space was lovely. It was not too dusty, moldy, or wet, and even better, there were no signs of rodents or their excrement. It was dusty and cramped, but Giselle could not care less. At least she had not spilled any dust on the floor.
Ten minutes later, the boots returned and slowly advanced towards the cell door. Meanwhile, doors were opened and closed quickly, confirming Giselle’s suspicions that all were empty closets. A smile clad her face as the pace of the footsteps and slamming of doors intensified, signaling the anguish of her captors.
“She was hiding under a bed. 100% I saw some orange,” Cassandra hissed. “We covered both exits.”
“Thus? Check again? She cannot be here,” Celeste replied, irritated.
“So you’re saying she was gone already? That we were both hallucinating? Then she had to have left already and opened the lock. She’s the type to carry a set of lockpicks on her, especially as she dreaded her extra punishment. Still, I am sure we saw her.”
“And that’s why you should always use ropes,” Celeste sighed. “Who shall I call? Annika? Washington is probably too busy.”
Cassandra grumbled in anger. “How humiliating… Should we really pat them down in the future? Are we in that stage? I’ll make the call.”
The duo left, and it took more than half an hour before the speakers in the building sounded. “Attention, Swift Fox,” Dallas’s voice echoed. “You have officially escaped. Please head to the entrance of the basement.”
Giselle smirked, keenly aware that her opponents could keep their promise, but staying above the ceiling would not change the situation. Hence, she lifted the tile, and hanging from the steel beam, she let herself drop down. The hole in the ceiling was not her problem.
“Hey,” Giselle greeted the three women smugly at the stairs leading to the old steel door that shielded the factory from the restored catacombs. “Could you please remove these cuffs? Thanks.”
Cassandra approached Giselle and complied, slightly surprised. “Couldn’t you have used your lockpicks for that?”
“I don’t have any. As you knew, I was under the bed and then hid.”
Celeste leaned against a table. “Where?”
“In the ceiling.”
“How? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Dallas, real name Annika, stood up to open the door. “You’re free to go. Should I bring you back? You have enough time to freshen up for the second round of classes. We have a workshop on classical Japanese bondage and one on cryptographic methods to decode encrypted messages.”
Horrendous options. Even if you win, you lose in Spy Camp, Giselle concluded.
“But, if you want, you can still opt for mummification,” Cassandra said. “I heard you were new to bondage and not a big fanatic. You will be in charge, and we will free you whenever you say.”
“I did it once already,” Giselle replied.
“That wasn’t proper mummification. It was only a thin layer and not very tight,” Dallas replied.
Giselle reddened. It was either being tied in a class, stuck doing math in her summer vacation or being mummified. What was the lesser evil? The cryptography class was equivalent to instant brain damage, and her peers would be unforgiving when entrusted with a new toolset of ties. Celeste and Cassandra were far less threatening.
“Sure, whatever.”
Cassandra and Celeste smirked. They accompanied Giselle downstairs to her cell and unpacked a bag with four rolls of bandages, each about 6 inches wide. Asked what color she wanted, Giselle opted for a bright red color. The off-white looked dirty, the orange reminded her too much of the stupid prison, and the black somehow appeared more frightening.
“Sit down on the bed,” Cassandra instructed, but not in a menacing nor patronizing way. “Hands to your side and sit up straight. Keep your lungs filled so it won’t be too tight around your chest.”
Giselle nodded as the 20-year-old who had played the hostage during the mission bound her hair in a messy, twirly ponytail.
“What music do you usually listen to?” Celeste queried as she wrapped Giselle’s chest diagonally in both directions.
Giselle replied with her favorite musicians, and to her surprise, Cassandra pulled out a Bluetooth speaker and began playing all the familiar greats. It almost felt nostalgic and brought Giselle back to herself. Eight days ago, she had arrived at Spy Camp, but not hearing her name, not wearing her clothes, and only interacting with strangers made it almost odd to hear something so personal as her favorite songs. It made her calm down and, somehow, feel safer.
Being wrapped up completely was an unfamiliar, alien feeling to Giselle. Her arms pressed against her sides, and now she lay on the bed as her legs got wrapped. They added a little cushion between her knees and ankles such that the joints were not squeezed too hard against each other. They did this not out of kindness but to mummify her as much as possible. From her neck down, the bandages kept her imprisoned as her feet were also enclosed. At first, she had expected to be able to still bend her legs and back, but the tight bandages prevented much. Their friction made them stick to each other, and bending meant stretching them further elsewhere, which was impossible.
“This feels weird,” Giselle explained. “It is almost claustrophobic.”
“Claustrophobic? After sticking yourself in a ceiling?” Cassandra laughed. “It is hard to describe, but I get what you mean.”
“Ready to go the next step?”
“What do you mean?”
“Many try to enter a meditative state when in such strict bondage. If we add a blindfold and let you for ten to fifteen minutes, you can try that out. Okay?”
“That sounds scary.”
“We stay here. Just shout if it is too much.”
“Has she escaped?” Cassandra questioned after a whisper that Giselle could not follow.
“Somehow… I guess. The padlock is still closed,” Celeste replied, opening it to check under the sheets. “She probably had lockpicks on her. Shall I call Washington?”
Somehow, Washington responded instantly. The exchange consisted of worse acting than a budget soap opera. “So, yeah, we’ll search for her. She should still be in the basement… Oh, of course, we’ll still tie her up. Nope, she won’t weasel her way out of that. Yes, it’ll be tight.”
“You go left. I go right,” Cassandra said after the call ended, and Giselle noted they did not go far. Celeste wore boots, and her steps went from loud to non-existent as if she had halted at once. Giselle’s weak hiding spot could not have been a more straightforward explanation for her disappearance. Giselle deduced they would be hiding behind a corner, about 100 feet away on both sides of the hallway, when she really made her escape. They had even left the cell door open. It was a trap.
Giselle contemplated for a minute as making a play and staying inside would lead to equally embarrassing defeats. She had to do something, even when the chances of success were almost zero.
Ears sharp, she crept from under the steel bed and wormed herself through the half-open door. Touching it could create sound. The narrow hallway had doors, and the one Giselle opened was just an empty closet. That was an awful hiding spot. She examined the hallway, knowing that she had to hide there, and there was shit all.
“Focus,” Giselle whispered to herself.
Her hand rested on the rough, white-painted concrete blocks in the renovated parts of the abandoned factory. There was nowhere to go in the narrow hallway, 12 feet high and barely 5 feet wide.
“There has to be something… There always is. I’m just blind. And stupid.”
Giselle looked up and noticed that the ceiling consisted of liftable tiles like those commonly used in gyms or schools to hide cables. However, it was 12 feet up, and those ceilings could not carry much weight, she knew from experience. Well, there was nothing else. Shuffling her cuffed feet to the other wall, she tensioned her muscles and began striding up the wall, pushing her body against both sides of the hallway. Staring at the ground below getting smaller, she shuffled up. Her muscles ached, not having practiced this move in months, but it was all within her ability. She was short and had the weight of her feather.
Lifting the tile up, Giselle realized her choice had been perfect. A thick steel support beam was installed next to the hole. Getting one hand around it, she released the tension in her body and hung above the hard floor, far below. The space between the tiles and the concrete above was small, two feet at most. Hence, pulling herself up was the hardest, especially while being cuffed. Giselle rested for half a minute before placing the tile back in place and turning the hidden space into darkness again.
For a ceiling, the space was lovely. It was not too dusty, moldy, or wet, and even better, there were no signs of rodents or their excrement. It was dusty and cramped, but Giselle could not care less. At least she had not spilled any dust on the floor.
Ten minutes later, the boots returned and slowly advanced towards the cell door. Meanwhile, doors were opened and closed quickly, confirming Giselle’s suspicions that all were empty closets. A smile clad her face as the pace of the footsteps and slamming of doors intensified, signaling the anguish of her captors.
“She was hiding under a bed. 100% I saw some orange,” Cassandra hissed. “We covered both exits.”
“Thus? Check again? She cannot be here,” Celeste replied, irritated.
“So you’re saying she was gone already? That we were both hallucinating? Then she had to have left already and opened the lock. She’s the type to carry a set of lockpicks on her, especially as she dreaded her extra punishment. Still, I am sure we saw her.”
“And that’s why you should always use ropes,” Celeste sighed. “Who shall I call? Annika? Washington is probably too busy.”
Cassandra grumbled in anger. “How humiliating… Should we really pat them down in the future? Are we in that stage? I’ll make the call.”
The duo left, and it took more than half an hour before the speakers in the building sounded. “Attention, Swift Fox,” Dallas’s voice echoed. “You have officially escaped. Please head to the entrance of the basement.”
Giselle smirked, keenly aware that her opponents could keep their promise, but staying above the ceiling would not change the situation. Hence, she lifted the tile, and hanging from the steel beam, she let herself drop down. The hole in the ceiling was not her problem.
“Hey,” Giselle greeted the three women smugly at the stairs leading to the old steel door that shielded the factory from the restored catacombs. “Could you please remove these cuffs? Thanks.”
Cassandra approached Giselle and complied, slightly surprised. “Couldn’t you have used your lockpicks for that?”
“I don’t have any. As you knew, I was under the bed and then hid.”
Celeste leaned against a table. “Where?”
“In the ceiling.”
“How? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know.”
Dallas, real name Annika, stood up to open the door. “You’re free to go. Should I bring you back? You have enough time to freshen up for the second round of classes. We have a workshop on classical Japanese bondage and one on cryptographic methods to decode encrypted messages.”
Horrendous options. Even if you win, you lose in Spy Camp, Giselle concluded.
“But, if you want, you can still opt for mummification,” Cassandra said. “I heard you were new to bondage and not a big fanatic. You will be in charge, and we will free you whenever you say.”
“I did it once already,” Giselle replied.
“That wasn’t proper mummification. It was only a thin layer and not very tight,” Dallas replied.
Giselle reddened. It was either being tied in a class, stuck doing math in her summer vacation or being mummified. What was the lesser evil? The cryptography class was equivalent to instant brain damage, and her peers would be unforgiving when entrusted with a new toolset of ties. Celeste and Cassandra were far less threatening.
“Sure, whatever.”
Cassandra and Celeste smirked. They accompanied Giselle downstairs to her cell and unpacked a bag with four rolls of bandages, each about 6 inches wide. Asked what color she wanted, Giselle opted for a bright red color. The off-white looked dirty, the orange reminded her too much of the stupid prison, and the black somehow appeared more frightening.
“Sit down on the bed,” Cassandra instructed, but not in a menacing nor patronizing way. “Hands to your side and sit up straight. Keep your lungs filled so it won’t be too tight around your chest.”
Giselle nodded as the 20-year-old who had played the hostage during the mission bound her hair in a messy, twirly ponytail.
“What music do you usually listen to?” Celeste queried as she wrapped Giselle’s chest diagonally in both directions.
Giselle replied with her favorite musicians, and to her surprise, Cassandra pulled out a Bluetooth speaker and began playing all the familiar greats. It almost felt nostalgic and brought Giselle back to herself. Eight days ago, she had arrived at Spy Camp, but not hearing her name, not wearing her clothes, and only interacting with strangers made it almost odd to hear something so personal as her favorite songs. It made her calm down and, somehow, feel safer.
Being wrapped up completely was an unfamiliar, alien feeling to Giselle. Her arms pressed against her sides, and now she lay on the bed as her legs got wrapped. They added a little cushion between her knees and ankles such that the joints were not squeezed too hard against each other. They did this not out of kindness but to mummify her as much as possible. From her neck down, the bandages kept her imprisoned as her feet were also enclosed. At first, she had expected to be able to still bend her legs and back, but the tight bandages prevented much. Their friction made them stick to each other, and bending meant stretching them further elsewhere, which was impossible.
“This feels weird,” Giselle explained. “It is almost claustrophobic.”
“Claustrophobic? After sticking yourself in a ceiling?” Cassandra laughed. “It is hard to describe, but I get what you mean.”
“Ready to go the next step?”
“What do you mean?”
“Many try to enter a meditative state when in such strict bondage. If we add a blindfold and let you for ten to fifteen minutes, you can try that out. Okay?”
“That sounds scary.”
“We stay here. Just shout if it is too much.”
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
I like this Chapter very much - how Giselle made her escape. That the chooses mummifcication above the other options? I understand very well. Kryptology would scrambles my brains to I guess. I am looking forward to every chapter, each time wondering where to Giselle will lead her Journey.
It is interesting to see someone pick the lesser of the evils. Excellent episode.
![Image](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51935021448_8459ac441e_o.jpg)
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
I had gotten away from reading the continuation of this story due to time constraints but I have picked up where I left off and really like it. How do I get a job tying up teenage girls at a summer camp??? Hmmmmm..... ![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Active story:
The bully, the tree and me (mm/m): http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8 ... 967b8517c3
Recently finished story:
A Kidnapping For MacKenzie.
Active story:
The bully, the tree and me (mm/m): http://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8 ... 967b8517c3
Recently finished story:
A Kidnapping For MacKenzie.
This was kind of the end of what I had I had explicitly in my mind, and now I have to think about the details how to continue. I think I will write a few more chapters of my other ongoing story first.
Thanks a lot! I think if that is your only motivation, then you might be disqualified. So I am not going to give you the sign-up form for next summer
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared May 12th
Spy Camp May 6th
All My Stories On This Site