CGC Short Stories - Amanda and Janie (Apr. 16, 2024)

[AlexUSA3]

Welcome to The Cool Girls’ Club Short Story Collection which is exactly what it sounds like: a series of one shots and 2-5 chapter tales involving members of the Cool Girls’ Club. These stories will try to do what I failed to do in The Cool Girls’ Club: write a coherent and well-paced tale without random strings of dialogue.

I know I introduced a lot of characters over the years, so I will try to restrict things to a core group in each story unless someone voices otherwise in the comments. This would mean a story either from college or high school, basically. Too many stories in the original tale had ridiculous amounts of chaos (e.g. 8 girls tied up at once, which is overkill), and I want to avoid that kind of thing.

Other CGC tales for everyone…
The Cool Girls’ Club (Complete)
The Sleepover (Complete)
The Visitor (Complete)
Camping Trip! (Complete)
The Games: Monopoly (Complete)
Sisters Secrets (Complete)
A Scout's Life (Complete)

Adult CGC tales...
Big Girl TUGs (Mostly isolated one shots)
Road Trip (Complete)
The Ratchet Bunny (Complete)
The Bondage Model (In Progress)

One shots for everyone...
Snowies
A Sjaastad Christmas
Sjaastad Christmas Cowgirls and In-Law!
Baby Sjaastad's 18th Birthday
Their Little Secret
Momma and Me
Annie and Me
Annie and Me 2: On Feet, Tape, and Hogties
Wedding Day at the Sjaastad's!

The Muses, one shots for everyone...
Shut Up, Serafina!
Rope Bunny in a Theater
Wedding Day at the Sjaastad's!

Kinky Conference Girls, a series of four one shots for adults...
Kinky Conference Girls

One shots for adults...
The Joys of TUGs and Orgasms
Coming Home
My Greatest Escape
The Rope Bunny and the Dominatrix
Dominatrix at Play
Dominatrix in Trouble

[Lucky Lottie]

Voting for Serafina. She seems fun but needs more spotlight on her activities.

[AlexUSA3]

If you were looking for new ways to work card games into TUGs, this story if for you!

Sera’s First Card Game (F/F)

Serafina Randaccio, coxswain of the Minnesota Tech Lady Eagles rowing program, had been introduced to TUGs by a complete accident. After mulling it over, she had asked her friend, Joyce Verdi, to teach her more about TUGs. Now, just 10 days after the friendship had blossomed, she was inviting Joyce over just to play TUGs… if one “just” played TUGs.

Sporting curly dark brown hair that came just past her shoulders, Sera easily could be mistaken for Nichole especially given that she was 5’5”, or only half an inch taller than the other. Her greatest feature was infinitely deep chocolate brown eyes. The young Italian wore her black trainers, a pink t-shirt, and a black kerchief bandana in a typical look for her. Sweat poured off her body in places, and she wasn't sure what emotion it was. All the amiable girl knew was that Joyce had promised that they would have fun together.

During her first three years of college, Sera lived in a single dorm. Her anxiety issues made her impossible as a sister let alone a roommate, and the decision to spend more money in exchange for a little bit more control over her circumstances had been well spent. Her acquaintance with Joyce wasn't new; they were both mechanical engineers. The sudden explosion of friendship after she learned Joyce was “genuine paesan” was a new bright spot in the rower's life.

Joyce Verdi felt like a nerd. She was diabetic even if at a healthy weight, had moderate vision loss, was only 5’4”, and wasn't athletic. There was a hole in her heart after the sudden loss of her mother, and she had found much comfort in the spontaneous young mother.

It felt odd, for Joyce, to be the one Sera trusted most with TUGs considering she was the only one of the club girls who hadn't known true TUGs before college. Girl scout knot practice didn't count in her mind since there was never any kidnapping involved. As a friend, however, she was happy to oblige and teach Sera a bizarre new game that went with TUGs.

From classmates to friends in under two weeks seemed unreal to both of them. Sera's only friend in the entire university before that fateful was her rowing teammate who also was one of Joyce’s TUG buddies as it would turn out. Since then hardly a day went by where Joyce didn't run up the stairs from her dorm on the second floor to the third floor to spend time with Sera. On paper, they only shared heritage, but they still complemented each other in subtle ways.

“Joy, I’ll be back! I’m going to see Serafina!” Joyce dashed away as always.

A wide grin was on Joyce’s face as she sprang up the steps with her dark ash blonde hair flying around her head. Seeing Sera was one of the few things that genuinely gave her the “kid in a candy store” feeling, and today her TUG tote was in her hand. Into the corridor she went, down to room 316. She knocked on the door and waited.

On the door was a hand drawn birthday card, something that no one in the building except Joyce knew to be from Sera’s son; to everyone else he was another nephew. A photo of a high schooler in red coxing a boat subtly betrayed the resident, but a small magnetic sign said “Sera is in” as well. The rest of the things on the door only served to advertise her Roman Catholic faith.

“Hi, Joyce,” a strong Italian accent greeted her.
“Hello, Serafina. May I come in?” Joyce’s grin grew more.
“Of course. Get in. I just a-talk a my sister, and I'm… uh… grammar confused.”
“How are you doing?” Joyce looked right at her.
“Terrible, since-a you ask, but that's a medicine for you,” Sera responded, “It works for my head, but today it make-a me sick.”
“Should we save the TUG for another day? Maybe go downstairs for video games?”
“I'm fine now… just weak.”

The first time Serafina had been tied up, Joyce’s friends, thinking they were tying up a different person because it was a sneak attack, had gone “all out” in tying her up. But when Sera got her lesson in TUGs from Joyce and a friend, Sera was tied very simply and even did some tying. She felt it was time to try again.

This was why Joyce brought a deck of UNO cards with her. UNO had an interesting assortment of cards that provided various opportunities to turn the tables and make things overall more interesting. Joyce had learned this challenge from her first-year roommate, and the rules were just fine by her.

“We're playing a card game?” Sera watched her shuffle the deck.
“Um, not really. We're using the cards to decide things for us.”

The master of ceremonies explained how the cards would work to choose factors for her like how much she would get tied up, layers of gag, and so forth. The chances of things depended upon the shuffle. It added an excuse to giggle about something.

“All right, all right, what is first card?” Sera sat cross-legged on her bed.
“This one decides how much I tie you up, if at all,” Joyce knelt on the floor.
“If I draw a 5?”
“This means,” Joyce took her time, “I get to use 5 total things to tie you up. So handcuffs count as one. A single strip of tape is one. So forth.”
“Well, 5 isn't bad. But what if I draw a ‘wild +4’ card?” Sera flipped the next one.
“Ouch. That adds 4 bonds to the 5, so I get to use 9 now instead.”
“Reverse?” the coxswain held up another.
“I now draw cards because now I’m the one getting tied up!” giggled Joyce.
“I don't want to tie you,” Sera stuffed the card under her pillow.

Sera's cards went like this…

• 5: five bonds
• Wild +4: four more bonds
• Reverse: Joyce would now be drawing, but Sera tossed the card
• 9: nine layers of gag, but each component (e.g. a sock) counted as one
• 3: Tickled for 3*2 = 6 minutes
• Skip turn: time to escape determined by captor, but Sera also tossed this one
• 6: Time to escape before release is 6*10 = 60 minutes
• +2: Time to escape reduced by 2*10 = 20 minutes, reducing her to 40 minutes

“Is that everything?” Sera smiled mischievously.
“You're allowed to add more things if the other people are OK with it.”
“I add one more card… Well, it's a 0,” Sera frowned.
“For some parts, like the number of ropes, it's treated as 10.”
“Then, while I'm tied up and helpless, I’m getting 10 girlie kisses from you.”

A smile formed on Joyce’s face, and she felt quite humbled to have captured the heart of this rower. How did she have so few friends when the outside was nothing like the playful, kind soul on the inside? Then again, Joyce was one of those people as well; it was easy to befriend if you tried even though she was professional and cold in the classroom.

“You kidnap me now?” whined the native Italian with a sparkle in her eyes.
“Well, since you asked, I think I will kidnap you now,” Joyce couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s the difference between the rope colors?”

That was one Joyce wasn’t ready for. Joyce had a variety of pink, brown, and white ropes in the same bag, and they would look similar to an outsider. The simple answer was that the pink rope had been dyed that way by the young lady for more personal purposes. The more exact answer was that the brown rope was from the hardware store and good for general play, the pink was for more controlled (e.g. consensual) moments, and the white was harder to unknot. Sera fingered each of them to get a feel for their strengths and weaknesses.

“All right…,” Sera considered her options carefully, “I want a chance to escape.”
“Then let’s do the pink hemp… I like escaping, too; that’s why I have this one.”

“Joyce,” the rower gulped nervously, “Is 9 too many ropes?”
“It’ll be fine,” Joyce wiggled her eyebrows, “Just you wait and see!”

Joyce pulled out all the pink rope she had; it was probably 12 pieces in total. It was amazing how well she took care of it all, and she knew Sera was more interested in the lessons than in the game at this point. How different their lives were to this point.

Joyce was only 7 months older than Serafina, but she was already parentless after losing her dad to a heart attack and her mom to a wrong-way drunk driver. The former came with the territory of being born when her dad was already in his 50s; the latter was a senseless tragedy for which she knew she would never find answers but would forever desperately seek. Two half siblings from her dad’s first marriage made her word very awkward with a niece and a nephew who were older than her.

Sera still had her parents and grandparents and was the fourth of eight children and was used to a non-stop onslaught of chaos and noise; on top of that, she was the mother of her parents’ oldest grandchild. Despite her lack of friends, she fit well into the loud and profane world of rowing. A personal moment like this was an escape for Sera and a step into normalcy for Joyce. Sera had no problem with removing her shirt for this game, revealing a black sports bra underneath and an amazing lack of evidence of her teenage maternity.

“Let’s do this,” Joyce sat down and had Sera stand up, “Put your hands behind your back.”
“All right,” Sera stood up and nervously, instinctively mind you, twisted in place.
“Hold still,” Joyce pulled her wrists together behind her back with the rope.
“Well, this is a bit of a surprise! It feels nice!”

Joyce skillfully tied Sera’s wrists with the first piece of rope, making sure her friend was still comfortable. The next piece was a surprise when Joyce effortlessly pulled Sera’s arms together until her elbows touched, and the captive seemed unfazed by this. At this, the captor marveled that anyone ever mistook Sera for Nichole when Nichole was arguably the least flexible girl in the entire club!

“How bendy are you, Joyce?” Sera tried to look at her.
“My elbows can be tied, but they don’t quite touch,” came the dry response.

Sera’s eyes grew wide with excitement when the next rope wrapped underneath her breasts, and she gasped when Joyce effortlessly pulled on the rope and made said breasts pop. A wrapping of the same rope above the breasts made them pop even more. Passing the rope through her armpits helped the rope tighten down on her torso. No amount of experience could ever change the thrill of that moment.

“Hey, Sera, are you still OK with this?” Joyce asked before she continued.
“If anything, I’m liking it too much,” commented the amused girl.

Then Joyce felt comfortable continuing with her binding of the rower. Rope number four wrapped around Sera’s waist several times and pinned her arms to her torso. Sera realized then that Joyce had up to five more ropes to use! It didn’t seem real even when Joyce gently seated her on the bed.

The professional rope work of Joyce Verdi continued to bind the rower’s ankles first, below her knees second, above her knees third, and below her crotch fourth. The pink rope gently hugged her body at each point, and the bondage seemed unreal. To test her captivity, Sera stomped her feet a little.

“Joyccceeee! I think I’m-a stuck!” Sera looked at her and giggled.
“Now, if I were bad, I would take your shoes off and stuff your socks in your mouth.”
“No such thing! I’m not ready for that! You blindfold me, right?”
“If I try a stuffed gag, it will be a special one that doesn’t have any more choking risk than what I am doing,” Joyce pulled a blue bandana through an orange 2-inch rubber ball.
“That’s good. Stuffing is still scary to me.”

Joyce pushed the rubber ball into Sera’s mouth and knotted the bandana behind her head. She grabbed a roll of pink duct tape and wrapped it around Sera’s head 7 times to finish her gag. Sera tried to say something, but it wasn’t intelligible and only served to make Joyce laugh.

Sera’s favorite TUG accessory was the blindfold; not being blindfolded in her mind didn’t seem like being tied up since eyes were important for escaping! Joyce used a red bandana for this and made sure the knot was secure. Nothing was too good to make sure this new friend got the best introduction possible.

“Mmmmm!” she groaned into the ball and tape.
“That sounds wonderful!” Joyce gently laid her upon her stomach on the bed.

The last part was the hogtie. Joyce carefully used her ninth and final rope to connect Serafina’s ankles and wrists together to put her into a much more difficult position. Now all they had left were the 6 minutes of tickling and the 40 minutes to escape.

“Have you ever been tickled by your brothers?” Joyce asked just to check with her.
“Mmm hmm,” the captive responded in the best way she could.
“That’s just what I wanted to hear. I’ll spare your feet this time!”
“No, no, NOOOO!” squealed the rower when Joyce began tickling her.

Joyce’s fingers ran up and down the bare ribs and belly of her friend. This game, Joyce felt, had been the perfect way to introduce Sera to the world of TUGs without getting too extreme. There was no kidnapping involved, and nothing was long-lasting. It was like a taste of everything, and the clocks ensured that nothing would last too long. During the brief window of tickling, Sera did not even get past the giggle stage.

“Sera, do you mind if I share this with the Club?”
“Mmm!” Sera nodded.
“May I take a quick video and some photos with your phone for you to decide yourself?”

That got a similar nod, and Joyce could not help but smile at the response. There were positive signs that Sera was willing to explore and give others a chance; it was all a matter of building up comfort. Joyce wasn’t best friends with every girl in the CGC, but she could trust each of them with her life.

Sera now was tasked with escaping this without any help at all. It seemed like 40 minutes was insufficient, but she quickly realized that it was quite fair. But, could she do it? A bit of nervous excitement filled her, the same excitement she felt before a race. It was as sporting as the others had told her.

With determination, the young Italian struggled against the comfortable pink bondage in which she was presently trapped. With the clock working against her, the girl who would, with time, be known as the Gangsta Chick, worked to impress her new friend. Ropes, however, were a tricky thing, and time whittled itself down. Grunts followed and squeals ensued as the girl desperately sought her first solo escape.

With effort, her incredible flexibility allowed her to manually unknot the hogtie rope. She sat up on the bed and shook her head until the blindfold fell off her eyes and down to her neck. Tape held her mouth shut, and she loved the feeling of the glue that sealed it so well and the chunk of rubber in her mouth that garbled her speech. She felt something she hadn’t felt at Minnesota Tech with anyone but her fellow rowers: happiness.

“I’m sorry, Sera,” Joyce said as the girl got her wrists free, “But you only have 2 minutes.”
“Mmmmph!” she thrashed a little in athletic style frustration and graciously accepted defeat.

It was now time for Serafina to be released from the rope. She didn’t hide her disappointment at the conclusion of their game or her happiness at the new friendship she had discovered. Joyce couldn’t hide her own happiness because true happiness was something that she had not found in a very long time. With her typical meekness of heart, Joyce carefully untied the ropes and put them back in the back.

“This is going to be a good friendship, isn’t it?” Joyce asked Sera while she put her things away.
“I think it is.”
“Why don’t you come back downstairs with me? We can play other, non-TUG games in my dorm.”
“Joyce,” Sera stood up, “It’s going to be an honor to get to know you. You know how to make a misfit feel like the best fit ever.”
“Your teammate felt the same way. I’m glad to be of help.”

Together, the jock and the nerd, having already discovered so many ways in which they could relate to each other, walked out of the dorm room. Sera had no idea what kinds of adventures the future held, but if they involved TUGs she figured it would be awesome! Her first card game had been great, and she looked forward to the second one as well.

NEXT: Red Bandana Gang's Playthings (FF/FF)

[Lucky Lottie]

Awesome read!

[harveygasson]

Great start to this new series

[AlexUSA3]

Great start to this new series

Thanks. I hope the next installment is able to compare!

Awesome read!

The next story will be in 3 or 4 parts. Don't forget about the poll as well!

Red Bandana Gang’s Playthings: Part 1 (FF/f)

“It's too cold!” Janie pulled the covers over herself more tightly.
“Janie, wake up!” whined Jenny.

Jenny was used to the weather and to her roommate's behaviors. Despite being a full foot shorter, Jenny fearlessly grabbed the beeding and ripped it off Janie’s bed. A whooshing sound was followed by expletives while the little track star dashed into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Jennnnyyyyyyy, it's Saturday! To hell with practice!”
“We have no practice. It's leg day!” Jenny moaned from her stronghold.
“To hell with leg day!”
“But you promisssseeeddddd!” Jenny had the pitiful tone to perfection.

Jenny was short and adorable in Janie’s eyes… Probably because Janie was 6’1”, and Jenny was 5’1”. In spite of Janie’s Floridian thin blood they made good roommates here in Minnesota. One used her size to be intimidating, and the other used it to be cutesy.

“I’ll go with you,” Janie caved.
“Yay!” Jenny opened the door to reveal she was wrapped in Janie’s red comforter.
“Oh, give it back, Jenn,” Nichole, one of the quartet of roommates, hobbled over.
“She's fine, Nichole,” Janie grabbed Jenny with it.
“Be nice with my sister!”
“Why couldn't you go with Bridgie?” the big girl grilled her friend.
“She had a rowing erg thing today.”

Jenny had a good friendship with Janie because Jenny happened to be a good friend of Janie’s older sister. Both got along because they were both morning people, natural learners, and naturally warm and friendly. Janie was rough and promiscuous, and Jenny was soft and virtuous. The friendship was solidified when Janie liver-punched a boy who kept harassing Jenny in an effort to date her. While Jenny wasn't one for violence, her strong sense of right and wrong complemented Janie's desire to always do the right thing by others.

Jenny’s blonde head with its solid red kerchief bandana without any printing poked out of the comforter until Janie removed it to reveal red sweatpants and a brown t-shirt. The runner had a stout Nordic frame with decent muscle tone all over. Her blonde hair was held in a ponytail courtesy a brown scrunchie and stretched just past her shoulders.

Nichole was Jenny’s sister by marriage and not my blood; that much was visually obvious. Nichole had a scrawny Irish frame but also had dark brown curly locks that only went to her armpits. A pair of crutches were under her armpits due to medical dramas that had plagued her throughout the semester. Icy blue sweatpants, a navy blue long-sleeve t-shirt, and an icy blue kerchief bandana matched her cool, calm personality.

“All right, Jenn, get out so I can dress.”
“No, I’m cozy. I won’t look,” she buried herself under the covers.

Jenny and Nichole couldn't remember life without each other because they had been best friends for so long. Their friendship was so strong that Jenny’s parents legally adopted Nichole when her home life collapsed and years before that put a second bed in Jenny’s room because Nichole spent so many nights in their house. Even now in college they had twice in three years been roommates. From friends, to besties, to like sisters, to legally sisters was their transition from pre-K to junior year of college.

It was Nichole who had introduced the concept of “gangsta” to her circle of friends, a style she had picked up from her biological sister in blissful ignorance that her sister was a real gangster. She was the seed that started the group of friends that became the Cool Girls’ Club; she was also the one who sarcastically suggested that their routines to induct new members involve tying up the person. For all this she was rightly called the “Gangsta Queen” with Jenny as her “Gangsta Princess.”

“Jenny, get out of there,” Nichole laughed a little at this.
“Make me.”
“I trust her,” Janie shut the door in Nichole’s face.

With that, Janie began to put on her clothes for the day. After seeing Jenny, Janie decided to go for 100% red: sneakers, socks, sweatpants, long-sleeve t-shirt, bandana headband, and scrunchie to hold her braid. Even her underwear was red.

“Let’s go Jenny,” Janie ripped the bedding off to see a smiling young girl underneath.
“All right,” Jenny bounced off the top bunk of the bed and swung down to the floor with grace.
“If I did that, I’d stumble and concuss myself. I’m too big.”
“I’m puny; it’s not so great when I need to ask for help at the grocery store.”

The two girls headed out into the chilly morning just as they were. Jenny, a native of the region, wasn’t bothered by the weather as long as it wasn’t below freezing and kept skipping down the walk and pausing to wait for her friend. Janie was thinking about something and not paying too much attention to the energy of her friend.

“Jenny, you’re wearing red, and I’m wearing red. You know what that means?”
“We’re both wearing red!” teased the small girl.
“You know what I mean! We can each enjoy a nice stuffie tonight instead of freezing to death.”
“All right; I’m game. How many, and how shall we do it?”
“We’ll leave the others out; just us and our two roomies tonight,” Jenny kept bouncing along, “Red Bandana Gang! You kidnap Bridget, and I’ll take Nichole. Then tickling, maybe video games, and a cozy night’s sleep.”
“Sounds too good to be true. How soon do we grab them?”
“Well, we cannot grab them until we know they’re caught up on their homework.”
“Is that a joke?! I know I should look in a mirror.”

Janie flippantly said this because she was an 18 year-old college junior carrying a lovely 4.0 GPA. She frequently had homework done correctly the same day it was assigned despite the material often having not yet been discussed in the lectures. Her mind moved too fast at times, and she sometimes said hurtful things without thought. Her present companion was the opposite: always thinking of others to her own detriment.

No more was discussed while the girls did their respective strength training exercises; they were still talking but not about their kidnapping plans for now. It was only afterwards that they resumed discussions of what they would do and when. First, they stopped to eat breakfast to give themselves more time to plan without interference. Jenny, however, was departing for the day to work on homework with her classmates; they promised to return in time for dinner with Bridget and Nichole.

Bridget walked away from the gym with a smile on her face. These indoor erg competitions carried little weight to those outside the sport, but they were where Bridget always did the best and made Minnesota Tech proud. She wasn’t their greatest rower by far, but she had a consistent ability to perform under all circumstances that made her invaluable to the program. Her rowing uniform consisted, today, of white sweatpants, a white-and-navy horizontally striped tank top under which she wore a navy blue long sleeve t-shirt, and a navy blue bandana headband.

The quiet one of the four roommates, Bridget and Janie were an odd couple to share a bunk. The big softball player was open, affectionate, and bubbly; the rower was closed, caring, and stolid. Bridget had once gotten so mad that she had accidentally broken Jenny’s rib while tackling her to kidnap her after an argument. The stocky 5’4” Scandinavian packed a wallop and successfully defended herself against the giant Janie upon occasion.

Under that exterior, Bridget was the sensitive one who felt other’s pains and joys the most. She had played the role of caregiver while Nichole recovered from massive external and internal injuries during the past few months. When an intervention was needed, she volunteered to play the role of the bruiser who would kidnap the person in need. To Nichole, Bridget was the one who greased the squeaky wheel; to Janie, she was a fellow meat head; to Jenny, she was a trustworthy ally despite the past squabble between them. As a roomie, she was the most considerate of the four, always taking great lengths to make sure others were accommodated and made sure all their emotional and physical needs were met.

“Well, how’d you do?” she was greeted by Nichole when she exited the gym.
“I won one!” Bridget smiled and showed her medal.
“Oh, that’s awesome! Bridgie, you did the thing!” they exchanged high-fives.
“Want my hoodie?” Bridget reached into her backpack, “You look cold.”
“I’m… thanks, Bridgie, I could use it,” Nichole sat down and put her crutches aside.
“Here you go. Why did you come out here?”
“Well,” Nichole put the oversized hoodie on herself, “Jenny’s hanging with her classmates, and Janie’s finishing a term paper that isn’t due for three weeks. I figured we could go get a cup of coffee and talk about the Red Bandana Gang.”
“Uh oh. Are you sure?” Bridget screwed up her face, “Are those two up to one of those?”
“Well, they’re both wearing red, but I don’t think they realize it. I was thinking you and I should jump Janie either way.”

Nichole and Bridget made their way toward the campus coffee bar where Nichole got herself a standard coffee and Bridget got a pumpkin spice mocha. They sat down at a table in a corner and talked about Bridge’s victory. Bridget was excellent at conveying the exact events in their proper order and what she was feeling so that Nichole felt like she was on the erg alongside her.

They talked so long that they stopped to get lunch on the way back to their dorm, running into Janie inside the dining hall. It seemed like a good way to size up her potential captives, so Janie was glad to run into the duo. She had just sat down with her tray of food when they arrived.

“Go get something to eat and join me,” said the red girl, “I can wait 5 minutes.”
“Janie, here’s something for you to chew on in the meanwhile. When we get back to the dorm, Nichole and I are kidnapping you for 3 hours. Got it?” Bridget dropped a bomb and walked away.

That wasn’t anything close to what Janie was expecting. With a promise of 3 hours, she looked at the clock and wondered if surrendering was the best option. If she stalled until Jenny returned, war would break out. If she went into hiding, she guaranteed Jenny would get tied up. But if she came along willingly and let the duo do as they pleased, perhaps they would fulfill their promise of 3 hours before Jenny returned. The best decision, therefore, was to eat her lunch as normal and go home with the treacherous duo.

“You done? Let’s go!” the big softball player happily bounced up.

Walking back with Bridget and Nichole felt like being accompanied by her executioners even though they talked like nothing was wrong. It was the typical conversation, centered around the rower’s triumph in the morning. Janie hid her concerns about her and Jenny’s plan well, but she had to handle a slight bump in the road first. When they entered the apartment, Janie knew she was in trouble because both girls immediately went to their TUG bags that were waiting right on the table where Nichole had left them.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Nichole ordered the Gentle Giant.

And Janie felt the cold steel of one of Joy’s pairs of handcuffs.

[Lucky Lottie]

An unexpected though welcome twist

[AlexUSA3]

An unexpected though welcome twist

It was indeed a twist.

Red Bandana Gang’s Playthings: Part 2 (FF/f)

“We made a promise,” Nichole roped Janie’s elbows together, “It’ll be fun!”
“What kind of fun? Tickled and locked in an armoire? Or video games?” Janie looked to Bridget for help.
“Video games are on the menu, sweetie,” Bridget encouraged her, “You’ll get to play fairly. You’ll just be tied up.”

In a humiliating twist, Janie was being bound with her own red rope. Once her elbows and a breast harness were securely tied by Nichole, the handcuffs were replaced with rope followed by a waist/crotch rope. Whatever was coming to Janie was serious. Simultaneously, Bridget bound Janie's ankles, knees, and thighs with more of the red rope.

“Let's look in here. Aha!” Bridget found a pair of red socks and red bandanas.
“Gangsta Jock’s favorite color! I have the red tape!” Nichole smiled at this.
“Oh, Janie is so adorable in her red! Open wide, Janie!”
“Nope!” Janie closed her mouth.
“Bring her to the sofa,” Nichole motioned with her head.

While Bridget dragged the helpless girl, Nichole hobbled behind them. Janie was laid on the sofa on her stomach, and Nichole sat on her legs. Janie smiled at them, taunted them through gritted teeth, and squirmed. Then Nichole “cheated.”

“Tickle tickle!” her fingers jammed into Janie's rib cage.
“Ha ha hamfffff!” Janie got the double sock gag.
“This should hold that in,” Nichole added a tight red bandana cleave gag.
“Umph!” Janie moaned when Bridget rolled her over.

One by one, strips of red tape went over her lips to ensure the gag stayed in place. Each and every strip was carefully pressed against her to ensure it was smooth; a Nichole gag was always perfectly smooth if she could help it. Janie was quite annoyed by this because her plans seemed to be going up in smoke! How could she enjoy this when something bigger and better was in the works? But she had to at least pretend to be enjoying it lest she arouse suspicion or give the impression that she was upset.

“Say ‘Mmmm!’” Nichole held up the camera.

Nichole taunted Janie while she filmed the captive struggling. A brief movie, ten or so photos, and a taunting text box all made a good post for the CGC Facebook page where Nichole knew Jenny would see their roommate’s distress. In another place, indeed it was seen.

Hopefully they let me go before Jenny returns the Gangsta Jock thought to herself.

“Janie, you're so ticklish, I’m going to help myself!” Nichole approached her ribs again.
“Noooooo!” she watched and waited for the inevitable.

Janie was off to the tickling races again with Nichole’s fingers looking for every spot that would make her laugh the hardest. Unlike some girls, Nichole was unafraid of tickling a victim with a stuffed gag, and she knew she could push Janie to the most extreme limits. And push she did.

Five minutes of laughter was insufficient for Nichole. Ten minutes of pained cackles didn’t satisfy her cruel streak. Twenty minutes of angry grunts didn’t push Janie enough for her pleasure. No, it had to be thirty minutes, when nothing but shrieking came from Janie.

Nichole loved tickling, and the glow in Janie’s eyes showed she loved it too. Janie might have been trying to squirm away, but the two pairs of hands torturing her was more than she could battle alone. Bridget felt most comfortable with Janie at times like this where it was all about just having fun and personalities were put aside; her own insecurities weren't relevant in these moments.

Janie had tears pouring down her cheeks from the tickling, but she truly loved being pushed to such brutal limits. Sweat soaked her clothing from the intensity. To make it more intense, she had been double-teamed because Bridget helped as well. The terrible duo that had kidnapped her was even more diabolical at tormenting her.

“MMMM HMPH!” Janie wailed and finally kicked so hard she threw Nichole off.
“Well, I guess that’s enough of that then,” Nichole rubbed her leg.
“GRRRRR!” the captive gave her a stern look that said she’d had enough.
“Gangsta Jock, if you’re done, we’re done. Would you like to play some Mario Kart?”
“MMMM!” Janie struggled and tried to twist her arms.
“We’ll take care of you,” Bridget said and immediately began untying Janie’s arms.

The Red Bandana Gang was already forgotten. All Bridget and Nichole could think about was having fun with their roommate in their shared spare time. Bridget wasted no time in undoing the variety of bonds and instead tied Janie’s elbows and wrists together in front of her. Another rope held her upper arms to her torso to ensure she still had minimal flexibility.

Janie looked at her two roommates and, despite her situation, pictured them bound and gagged and tucked into beds to spend the night. She wanted Nichole in particular despite Jenny being Nichole’s “sister.” Both girls could be huggable, but she wanted the girl she got less often and would fight for her too!

The video game controller was awkward in Janie’s hands because of her bound wrists, but her size made it so that she still had a firm grip. This right here was an example of why she loved TUGs: tied and helpless for loving and being loved. Right now, she had to be friendly if she wanted to get out of this red binding in reasonable time.

Time flies when you're having fun, but Janie's fun was diminished by her inability to trash talk her roommates. Lauren always would ungag Janie for video games, but this oversight wasn't personal. It seemed unreal that she was only 18 and was so blessed to have such amazing people in her life.

“I’ll kick your tail!” Nichole teased Bridget.
“Not with a knitting leg you won't!” Bridget retorted smoothly.
“Yeah, sure! Janie will help me, won't you sweetie?”
“Ah -unno,” Janie shrugged.
“Side with me,” Nichole pinched her nose.
“Stop it!” Bridget freed Janie's nose, “We love her!”

While they bickered over Janie’s gagged allegiance, they neglected the race and found themselves down racing to be “next to last” while Janie motored away. It was strange and funny and even Janie managed to forget about the Red Bandana Gang while she sat there with her friends. Both Bridget and Janie were sad when Nichole suggested they hogtie Janie and see if she could escape before they untied her.

Bridget loved escape races though and eagerly did the work of tying Janie. She untied Janie’s arms again and put them back in the tight elbows-touching behind-the-back tie from before. The breast harness was also detailed and cinched through the armpits with the V in front; a tight waist/crotch rope pinned Janie's arms even more. Bridget laid her on the floor and ran a rope from her ankles to elbows and repeated, cinching it well, for a hogtie. Lastly, she blindfolded Janie with another red bandana.

“All right,” Bridget plugged her phone into a wall outlet, “I am going live in the FB group. Bridget Sjaastad with this live Cool Girls’ Club competition streaming from Preston 114B. Janie Patterson, the red-obsessed girl, is tightly bound and gagged with her own red rope, is gagged with red socks and a red bandana and red tape, and is blindfolded with yet another… yes, a red bandana.”

“Mmmmm!” Janie interrupted the monologue and squirmed on the floor.

“Gangsta Jock has 30 minutes to escape or she will have to endure my feet in her face while she gets untied by Nichole! This Gangsta was tied in a really unfair manner; it will take everything she knows to escape although I think she will make it!”

“Bridget’s feet are the worst; I learned that as a frosh!” Nichole interjected happily.
“H-ckk!” Janie swore against her bonds,

“Janie is really squirming and losing her cool now!”

Bridget continued narrating in this manner while Janie continued her escape attempt. The Red Gangsta Jock was indeed good at this, and she kicked and flailed her way out of the hogtie first and foremost. She sat up and began squirming. Twisting her arms back and forth slowly loosened the waist rope.

Janie was determined not to be forced to smell Bridget’s dirty feet. For a girl like her, it was genuine motivation to escape within the time given. On a scale of 1-10, Bridget gas was a 16 in Janie’s opinion, but she wasn't the worst of the CGC members.

“Janie has a hand free now, friends! It is a mere matter of time, now, and she's really romping on this one as she still has 22 minutes left to escape. I can tell I was vicious with the elbow rope because it's not budging, and, just think, I used the soft cozy rope to do that!

“I’m looking for a glimmer of hope for Nichole and I. I was really looking forward to shoving my toes in her nose, but I guess not today. Janie Patterson has her arms out of the rope completely. What will she do first? Off comes the blindfold! She flips me off!”

“F-ck you, too, you brat!” Nichole fought fire with fire and laughed at her arson.

“It appears Janie… Off with one rope… Off with another… She will escape in under 12 minutes it seems. Well, folks, I did a terrible job, it seems, or Janie is just talented. She is peeling the tape off her lips… Unknots the bandana…Out comes the socks! 11 minutes, 39 seconds, folks, for a new personal best! I made that part up, but there's a good chance it really is a personal record!”

“Thank you, everyone!” Janie waved to an imaginary audience and took a bow.

Janie excused herself to use the restroom, and she immediately sent a text to Jenny to remind her about their deal. Either Jenny was helping her kidnap these two, or she was doing it alone and then kidnapping Jenny as well! An apology came from Jenny, and the two now knew it was time to figure out how to kidnap Nichole and Bridget.

It was time for the attack of the Red Bandana Gang.

[AlexUSA3]

@Lucky Lottie @harveygasson

Red Bandana Gang’s Playthings: Part 3 (Ff/FF)

Jenny excused herself and began walking towards her apartment to resume the quest to which she and Janie had committed themselves that morning. She stepped out into a chilly and already dark scene and pulled her brown hoodie over herself to protect her body against the cold. She walked briskly to minimize her time in the brisk air.

“There, warm chicken soup,” Nichole was interrupted by her roommate.
“From a can,” Bridget did not approve in the least.
“Oh, shut up! I modified it a lot! I added egg noodles and made it not be a sodium bomb!”
“Where's Jenny?” Bridget whined, “If she approves, I’ll eat it.”
“Well here she is; Jenny, save us!” Janie sided with Bridget.
“Is this good chicken soup?” Bridget asked her and pushed the bowl toward her.
“Can't get along without me? Let me see,” Jenny tasted and grimaced, “Awful. Sis, what happened while I was gone?”
Nichole’s jaw dropped, “Absolutely nothing! Why?”
“You're trying to poison them for some reason,” Jenny took the handcuffs that were still on the counter, “Sorry, but I am placing you under arrest.”
“I’m,” words struggled to come to her as she was cuffed, “I’m offended.”

Janie calmly went to the pile of red rope, still on the floor, and grabbed a medium length. Bridget, whose back was to Janie, never noticed her friend coming from behind her. It was startling when Janie grabbed her.

“Hey!” Bridget pushed her away, “Not now!”
“Yes, now! Nichole’s doomed, and you are too! Red Bandana Gang is attacking!”
“You were right!” the rower looked at her roommate while Janie cornered her.

Bridget could take Janie in a wrestling match but only on the open floor and with a bedroom in range for her to escape. In the corner like this, she was unable to do much of anything to protect herself, and she finally turned around and crossed her wrists for Janie to tie them. The Red Bandana Gang had won, but unfortunately for Bridget and Nichole it was early in the night.

“Bridgie, Nichole,” Jenny warned them, “Would you like to put on your jammies first before you're taped?”
“I’m good,” Bridget said, “This is more embarrassing.”
“Our little winning rower! Jenny, Bridge here won a medal today!” Janie pointed to her captive.
“Way to go, girl! You're a winner in our hearts always, but today you're a winner at the sport you love!”
“Thanks,” Bridget smiled and blushed and looked at Nichole who smiled back.

Janie took a roll of red tape from Jenny and began wrapping it around Bridget's arms, wrapping it again and again until she was satisfied and then breaking it. Janie, taking absolutely no chances, wrapped the tape around Bridget’s chest just below her breasts and then above them so tightly it almost squeezed her lungs, a feeling Bridget liked. The captive rower was smiling, but Nichole was grimacing while Jenny did the same taping of her chest, uncuffed her wrists, crossed them, and taped them. Both girls then taped their captive’s arms to her waist.

“This is another fine mess you’ve gotten me into!” Bridget giggled at her situation.
“I don't even get that joke,” Nichole rolled her eyes.
“Sorry, it's a Laurel & Hardy joke; you know I prefer the old stuff!”
“It's a 80 year old jokmph!” Nichole got a hand gag over her mouth.
“Behave, Gangsta Queen, and I won't gag you until after you're fed.”

Janie looked at the sweatpants on Bridget’s legs and decided duct tape wasn't good enough for those. She retrieved a bunch of the red rope that was on the living room floor and began tying her friend's ankles together. She tossed some of the rope to Jenny, who then looked sadly at her sister's leg knowing that underneath those pants was a brace that helped strengthen her right leg. A tear was starting in the corner of her eye when Nichole interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, come on, Jenny, get tying! Or is only Bridget allowed to be properly bound up and gagged?” Nichole taunted the joy of her life.
“Since you asked,” Jenny forced a smile on her face and knelt down by her legs.

Together, the former kidnappers found themselves further kidnapped with rope binding their ankles, knees, and thighs. The soft red rope was secure but comfortable, making a nice way to be captive on a chilly Saturday. Sitting at the table with their roommates was better; but the fact of the matter was that they were still captive.

“Janie, under my bed are all these different boxes; grab the ones that say “CS” and “AS” on them, please?”
“Aye aye, Gangsta Princess!” Janie bounded away.
“Princess kidnapping her Queen… is this usurping?” Bridget looked at the two.
“Oh, no,” Jenny sat on Nichole’s lap and wrapped her arms around her friend, “She is forever my sister from another mother and forever the Gangsta Queen!”

Janie returned with the two big, heavy boxes which Jenny had brought back with her during spring break. Inside the box of “CS” were canned soups and stews, made for her by her mother just for a day like today. In the box labeled “AS” was homemade applesauce!

“Who wants what soup?” Jenny asked her friends.
“Chicken” for Bridget, “Beef Stew” for Janie, and “Minestrone” for Jenny… but Nichole.

“There's Texas Toast in the freezer,” Bridget said, “It’ll be a perfect side.”
“Why do you eat that poison, Bridge?” Jenny grimaced, “Whatever; we’ll eat it.”
“What about me?” Nichole frowned and looked at the box.
“You get this since you like it,” Jenny motioned to the canned soup in the pot with the grace and style of a game show glamor girl.
“I sh-t the carpet this time,” Nichole leaned back in her chair.
“You’ll still get applesauce, even if you're a kitchen hack,” Jenny teased her.
“Gangstas gotta Gangsta, Gangsta Queen,” Gangsta Jock shrugged.

Once everything was heated to perfection, Jenny and Janie had one of the greatest pleasures TUGs could provide before them: feeding a captive. Some considered it to be a miserable task, but it was one that others loved. With soup, it was much harder and took more skill.

“I’d rather be the one feeding someone,” Bridget kicked the table.
“Oh, hush now,” Jenny said, “Janie will do fine.”
“I might be a bit slow, but better slow than messy,” Janie screwed up her face.

Janie took it slowly and made sure she got absolutely nothing on Bridget. There was no joy in this for Bridget; it was torture. Janie, too, would rather be on the receiving end of a TUG feeding. At the same time, Jenny and Nichole were naturals and almost in giggle fits even with a little bit of food being dribbled here and there. When all the soups and bread were consumed, the captors traded and split a small jar of applesauce with their captive.

“Next time it will be me baby feeding one of you three!” Bridget frowned afterwards.
Jenny looked at her sternly and calmly ordered Janie, “Gag her.”
“Already prepared!” Janie tied a knotted red bandana cleave gag around Bridget.
“Ah’ll het hou!” Bridget threatened before strips of red tape followed, “Mmmmmm!”
“I promise to be an angel,” Nichole leaned back and pitifully gazed in Jenny’s eyes.
“Fat chance,” Jenny stuffed a bright blue rubber ball in Nichole’s mouth.
“Augh,” Nichole calmly grunted while Jenny knotted the red bandana.

After eating so well, tickling was off the menu of punishments for at least an hour if not more. Bridget kicked the table so much that Janie finally carried her away and put her on the sofa; Nichole, on the other hand, behaved herself quite nicely in the hope of being treated more gently. Nichole again tried the pity tactic and was instead awarded strips of red tape on top of her gag.

“While you were gone, these two tickled me for thirty minutes straight even with my mouth stuffed,” Janie spoke in an exaggerated tone.
“I’ll get the brushes!”
“No no no!” Nichole grimaced at this announcement and let out a groan of despair.

Nichole may have been the “master tickler,” but no one knew how to push her own buttons better than the Gangsta Princess; 16 years of friendship breeds that kind of familiarity. Janie dragged Nichole over to the sofa to be with Bridget, and they were seated side-by-side. While spanking might not have been introduced to the CGC yet, stinky socks went back to high school for all of them.

Both Bridget and Nichole had their shoes and socks removed. Using red bandanas, Jenny and Janie tied the socks to the opposite girl’s nose! Nichole’s eyes grew wide with frustration, and Bridget’s grew wide with frustration. Red electrical tape wrapped around their big toes to reduce their foot motion. The stench of foot filled both girl’s nostrils, and they glared at each other as if somehow the other captive was at fault for this.

“MMMMM!” Nichole fought the tape and rope to no avail.
“Aw, is the Gangsta Queen sorry she kidnapped me before?” Janie taunted her again.
“Nuh uh!” flames shot from her eyes, “NGGGG!” she thrashed, “EH… -EE… OHHH!”
“Oh, Nichole I can’t let you go, sorry; Jenny’s the one who kidnapped you.”

Nichole looked at the girl with her kerchief-covered head and pointed a finger at her. Nichole wagged the finger and began grunting into the gag as if she were daring to lecture her own sister on the ethics of kidnapping; Jenny playfully interpreted it as a lecture on the merits instead. Nothing intelligible was said, but Jenny, Bridget, and Janie startled giggling so much that the former was in tears. Bridget suffered much on account of this because it filled her nose with the stench of her co-captive’s feet.

“I’m glad you like it so much!” Jenny gave her sister a big kiss on the forehead.
“No, no, no!” Nichole groaned, “-et -e -o!”
“Janie, tape her hands up; she deserves it,” Jenny ruffled her hair.

Nichole never used the three-finger snap, and with cause: she wasn’t demanding immediate release in that sense. She was an unwilling captive, but she was not stopping them by force even though she knew she could just snap her fingers or, if they’re taped, do any pattern thrice and get out of this. She tried to turn away from Janie, but the strong softball player easily taped up both of her hands after intimidating her into clenching her fingers into fists.

The icy blue Gangsta Queen looked at one captor and then the other. Then she turned to her navy blue friend who was similarly bound and gagged. It was useless to beg any longer; Nichole had to admit her defeat. She sank into the sofa and readied herself to smell Bridget’s socks even more strongly than she was presently smelling them.

Jenny baby-talked her, “That’s a good girl. Now are you ready to be tortured?”

Something about the word torture didn’t bode too well for Nichole and Bridget.

“Which would you like to start when you tickle our sweetheart Bridget?” Jenny asked Janie.
“I think I’ll start with the toothbrush; Lauren uses an electric one on me back home.”
“Well, Joy has an electric, but she’s not here.”

Janie shrugged and looked at Bridget with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She watched the beautiful blue irises vanish in an instant when the rower understood it was time! Tickle torture had arrived! Bridget’s eyes were full of excitement; but the other girl’s were filled with dread. Unfortunately for the victims, the promised hour hadn’t yet come, but the captors were a bit too eager to get things started.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” Bridget started laughing heartily.
“NMMMMMM!” Nichole thrashed about some more.

Janie rubbed the dry plastic bristles against the captive’s feet, regularly moving to the toes and the top of the feet so as to provide both momentary relief and varying sensations. It worked like a charm to give the asthmatic some momentary relief, but at the same time Jenny was forcing Bridget into fits of laughter.

“Oh, my dear friend, I’m just getting started,” Janie laughed and went into full torment.
“Noooo!” Nichole wailed and struggled in her bonds, “Heh heh heh! NOOOO! AHHHHHH HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“Ha ha ha! Eeeee ha ha haaaaaa!” Bridget continued giggling.

Jenny rubbed the hairbrush all over Bridget’s feet without mercy, and she swapped between one foot and the other. Bridget was so ticklish down there that she would keep laughing as long as the brush or fingers were assaulting the soft skin of her soles. But laughter only lasts so long and then it spirals downward to heavy grunts.

Jenny and Janie not only did the evil work of tickling the soles of their captives but also worked their fingers up the victim’s leg and to their rib cages and armpits. Jenny found the last of these easy because she was so small, but Janie found the task nearly impossible and had to ask Jenny to do Nichole’s armpit tickling. On the other hand, Janie’s powerful fingers got the most out of the ribs.

Nichole started wheezing, however, from the intensity and duration and soon began to cough in a very concerning manner so that Janie decided to stop. It was typical of the asthmatic girl to need breaks during tickling, something that occasionally upset her because she loved being tickled so much more than other forms of teasing and torment. In this case, however, being kidnapped made the whole set of circumstances even more frustrating. Still, she didn’t snap; she didn’t want to be a captive but wasn’t stopping her roommates either.

“Are you OK?” Janie pulled the socks off Nichole’s nose.
“Mmm hmm,” nodded the captive girl.
“You need a break to catch your breath.”

Janie was right; Nichole’s lungs were heaving up and down more than usual. Four times out of five this wouldn’t happen, but this time it did. Meanwhile Jenny was continuing her domination of the medalist rower Bridget Sjaastad. Bridget seemed to be able to keep going indefinitely.

Janie now had Nichole sitting in her lap and put the socks back over her nose. It was time for the boring part of the night for the captives. Red bandanas blindfolded both of them for the long stretch between now and bedtime. Both captives were seated on the floor between the captors while the Red Bandana Gang enjoyed the video games.

TUGs can be miserable when it becomes boring in a bad way. Nichole and Bridget weren't even allowed to watch the game being played, and at one point Jenny sat on Bridget’s legs with her own feet on the captive’s nose. That moment, however, ended when Bridget threw the petite girl off her.

For Nichole, there were multiple efforts to help Bridget escape, but Janie foiled her each and every time. After the fourth attempt, Nichole was forced to sit in between Jenny and Janie while Bridget remained on the floor; Jenny put her legs in Nichole’s lap during this time. Janie and Jenny had a good time, but Bridget and Nichole sure didn't.

“Jen, let's change their gags a little,” Janie suggested partway through their game.
“What do you have in mind?” Jenny probed a little.
“Oh,” Janie took the socks off Nichole’s face and stuffed one in the other, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” the Gangsta Princess watched the Jock unpeel Nichole's tape gag.
“That's what I said.”
“I think,” Jenny began to do the same with Bridget, “I’ll do nothing, too.”

It was a simple gag: one sock inside the other with a bandana knotted around the sock. This made an effective gag with reduced choking risk. The stuffing in this gag added a lot of entertainment value to the cruel deed, and both girls, once ready, unknotted the simple bandana cleave gags.

“Let me gohmph!” Nichole was quickly quelled, “UGGHHHH!”
“Hey, Nichole, what armph!” Bridget got the same, “Ewwww!”

Both girls quickly knotted the gags before they added fresh red tape to things, this time with 8 layers of wrapped tape to crush their faces for maximum silence. Jenny and Janie removed their socks and pushed those instead against Bridget and Nichole's noses instead now. It was a mean way to assert their victory, but they did it without any shame.

“Mmmm!” Bridget moaned at the stench tied to her nose.
“Yuck!” Nichole couldn't decide whose toe gas was worse to smell.

The worst part of being a girl might be that it's easier to keep you tied up. A trip to the bathroom simply requires that you be seated on the toilet with your pants pulled down. You don't need to be untied unless you're dropping solids. It was a bit unfair for the captives, but they had no choice but to accept the humiliating treatment.

“We should film them!” Jenny suggested.

So the narration began from start to finish explaining how they had been nabbed and the wicked manners in which the four pairs of socks had been used. Nichole kept on thrashing like a caged animal in the hope of finding a way out, but she was punished by Janie pinching her butt. Bridget was enjoying the humiliation in its own wild and wacky way.

Bedtime brought an interesting twist to things because Janie didn't want Nichole to sleep with the socks on her face. So those went into the laundry pile, and Nichole was gently tucked into Janie’s bed without inconveniencing the captive further. A kiss on the forehead with a kindly “Good night” ended their evening.

In the other room, cruelty was added to cruelty. To hold her stinky socks on Bridget’s face, Jenny pulled a pillowcase over her head, wrapped it up until it was taut over her face, and secured it with a strong rubber band. Bridget had a strong respiratory tract, so she would handle the layers no problem.

“Good night,” Jenny kissed her friend and wrapped her in a tight hug.

With that, Jenny brought this story to its conclusion.

NEXT: Monopoly (f/ff)

[Lucky Lottie]

Nice to see lots of tickling

[AlexUSA3]

Monopoly (f/ff)

In the home of the Rondell children, everything is a stiff competition, and everyone wants to win. Often, the losers find themselves bound and gagged for an extended duration as punishment for losing. The competition could be heated when Caleigh and her sister Eva were involved, but the competitive fire turned to ruthlessness when their cousin Olivia was involved.

Olivia Whipple not only was between her cousins in age but also was between them in height (closer to Caleigh on both counts). Visiting her cousins in Minnetonka, on the opposite side of the state, was like Christmas. Sometimes, the visit even happened at Christmastime!

Caleigh and Olivia were high school seniors getting ready to graduate the following spring and already finished growing. Caleigh, to her disappointment, never did pass 5’6”, and Olivia had stopped at 5’7”. Unfortunately for both of them, Eva, just over one year younger than Olivia, had already grown to 5’8”. Being so close in age and size had benefits, but Olivia had the thing both Rondells lacked: poise.

That poise came in handy when Eva and Caleigh began arguing over a simple hairbrush. Both wanted it, and Olivia came in between them to put a stop to the argument. Everyone knew that Eva could be picky about everything, and Olivia didn’t feel like waiting 30 minutes. The simple solution was often the best one.

“Eva, spare us the drama and just put your hair in a bandana instead.”
“Fine,” Eva stormed out, “I’ll get you back, Cay!”

The volleyball player went to her room in her typical kind of snit. She grabbed a dark green bandana and put it on her head as a headband to go with her chocolate brown jumper and lavender long-sleeve t-shirt. She started thinking about the Monopoly game into which all this was supposed to lead and quickly forgot her silly anger although she knew she had to follow up on her promise of revenge. When she had the opportunity, she was going to gag Olivia with the scarf.

After a morning of sledding they had to clean up and warm their bodies again. To that end, the girls had, with permission, piled into the hot tub even though they couldn't use soap in it. The warm water had felt nice, but it set the stage for this typical battle in the bathroom. Just as soon as the sisters saw each other, Caleigh began a sign language argument, but Olivia just stood in the way and stared at her.

“Get lost, Liv. Let us fight in peace,” Caleigh tried to gently nudge her along.
“Are we playing this game,” Olivia stood firm, “or do I have to pick a favorite and tie up the other?”
“We're sisters; we fight,” this time Caleigh shoved Olivia, but Eva was gone.
“Are you two done bickering, or do I have to play this game alone?!” a voice called from a bedroom.

Olivia looked at the older cousin and her pink plaid flannel pajamas. She was in the middle of her cousins with turquoise sweatpants and a sea green sweatshirt with her hair in a ponytail held by a white scrunchie. Unlike the other two, she wore glasses all the time and carefully followed her older cousin into the bedroom in which Eva had already opened the box.

“Double-check the rules for me,” Eva handed the sheet to Caleigh.
“Why can't you read it?” Caleigh took the sheet and looked at Eva in confusion.
“I don't have my readers.”
“The readers that are on the… Bummmm ba ba ba bummmm… nightstand?!”
“If I get to tie you up, you are soooooo getting shoved under my bed.”
“Too bad I’ll be the one who’s tying you up though.”

Underneath Eva’s bed was a big empty void, but under Caleigh’s was organized chaos. Eva’s bed was topped by a wrinkle free solid lavender comforter, but Caleigh’s had tons of wrinkles amidst the blue flowers on their pink background. One nightstand was carefully cluttered while the other had only a lamp, a glasses case, and a clock.

The Monopoly board looked standard as you went down from “Go” toward “Jail” except that jail was replaced with “Held Hostage” with the accompanying “Go to jail” on the opposite corner of the board replaced with “Taken for Ransom.” “Rope Works” replaced the “Water Works” on the board as well, but the majority of the changes were to be found in the “Community Chest” and “Chance” card piles.

“Our mom would freak out if she saw this board,” Eva giggled at the cards.
“We got it as an early gift to tote along with us to play with you since we’re here for two weeks.”
“Which one? Your mom or your dad,” Caleigh looked at them.
“Dad, and I won a coin toss to use it first.”

The girls gingerly opened the packs of cards and carefully shuffled them so as neither to bend them nor to see any of them by mistake. It was like Christmas, but 4 days early! And Olivia was looking forward to having both of her cousins finally shut up and wrapped up.

In the past, the sisters often worked together to take out Olivia early in a game and then only afterwards would they worry about each other. With them fighting, she stood a chance, and if they started again Olivia had no plans to stop them. Soon, she knew the war continued.

“You two won’t survive the knotting you’re getting from me,” Eva spoke with assurance
“Like you’re going to make it through a game with me and Liv,” Caleigh trash talked back.
“No, no, no. It’s my game, and I’m winning,” added the game’s owner, “Which cleave gag is your favorite? Knee sock, bandana, or handkerchief?”
“I,” Eva looked at her cousin, “don't need to answer that question. You do.”

Caleigh could put aside all the TUG aspects in her mind and focus on winning. TUGs were secondary in this game of capitalist economic warfare and terrorism such as she practiced when playing with her sister and cousin. While she cared more about the spoils of victory, she kept in the front of her mind the image of Eva squirming on the floor while bound and gagged.

Eva just wanted to shut up her sister and cousin, but especially Caleigh. Every day, it was the same nonsense from the elder Rondell girl, especially with the complaints about Eva taking care of her hair so precisely. Eva saw it as actually caring about her appearance as opposed to her sister being a frump. Revenge would be sweet, would it not?

From there, it progressed just like a normal game of Monopoly, or so it seemed. Caleigh already studied the board by just looking around, but Eva and Olivia just dove headlong into it. Olivia hadn’t looked at any of it beforehand because she wanted it to be just as much of a surprise for her as for her cousins. It was Olivia who first landed on the “TUG Chest.”

“Bought some rope; paid $50. Oh, brother!” Olivia read the card aloud before putting $50 in the center of the board.
“And I rolled a… snake eyes! Oh, thanks for the $50, Liv!” Caleigh said as she landed on the corner spot, but then she rolled a two and drew a chance card, “Kidnapped. Go to ‘Held Hostage.’ Do not pass Go; do not collect $200. Livvie, we need that rule sheet now.”
“I have it,” Eva grabbed her glasses and began reading, “Let’s see… It’s the same as regular Monopoly, but...”
“But what?” Caleigh got testy.
“Here, Livvie. It’s your game, so you get first honors,” Eva threw her rope bag to her cousin.

Caleigh had no idea the TUGs were stuffed this deeply into the rules. She had simply expected TUG-themed Monopoly with an informal agreement for the losers to be tied up. Instead, Olivia was binding her wrists behind her back with a piece of rope, and now she had to learn how to roll a die while tied up! To her disappointment, Caleigh didn't get a double on the first roll, but after the second bad roll she had escaped the rope anyway.

“Killjoy,” Olivia pouted, “You ruin all TUGs by escaping!”
“I’m sorry! I have a natural talent for it though!” Caleigh promptly rolled a 12, “Oh, boy, I get the money pot!”

For the next couple of turns, the proceedings were like those of a typical Monopoly game, but then a chance card came up that made the girls scratch their heads. It was Eva who landed on the spot and got to draw the card. Unsurprisingly, the brazen teen was sputtering after she had donned her glasses and read the card.

“‘The judge has placed a gag order on you. You are to be gagged for the next three turns.’ Who came up with this nonsense?! Uncle Dan's a twisted son of a gun!”
“Darn, Eva, how about a simple piece of microfoam?” Caleigh looked in her bag.
“Sure. Give it,” Eva took it and gagged herself.
“Well, darn, I'm in jail,” Olivia scowled as she landed on “Taken for Ransom.”
“My turn!” Caleigh took the same piece of rope and quickly tied her cousin's wrists.

Eva so far had to admit that she wasn't too terribly impressed by this game so far. She wanted motivation to go for a kill, and instead she felt like she was playing to avoid the less pleasant scenarios. Eva and Olivia, on the other hand, were giggling as they gave and received these things. Olivia tried to get out, but in the meantime something happened: Eva landed on the ‘Just Visiting’ spot.

“Let me see these rules… must be something juicy for this with how sick Uncle Dan is…,” Eva scanned the sheet, “Oh, yes!”
SMACK!, she threw Olivia onto her side and spanked her on the butt!
“What on earth?!”

So this was how the game would go. Even without losing the game, Olivia already found herself getting walloped by the strong volleyball player. Caleigh was shocked by how much anarchy was to be found in these modified rules. To Olivia’s relief, the sisters still had a rivalry going. After that spank, Olivia could handle losing to Caleigh so long as Eva lost.

“Well, well, well, Cay. Next time you land on Park Place will cost you a pretty penny!” Eva smugly put a house on the spot.
“I’m not doing so well, am I?” Caleigh groaned as looked at the building empires around her.
“Oh, you never know what will happen, Cay,” Olivia tried to be positive.
“Good grief, you always have to play the mediator, don’t you?” Eva rolled her eyes.
“As long as you play the part of a big bully!”
“We all just want to win, O’Libya,” the volleyball player was less than charitable.

Olivia felt a slight burning within her. She hated that nickname with a passion and turned a bright cherry red and resisted the urge to jump her cousin. Such was her anger that she didn’t even really notice when Caleigh snapped at Eva to apologize. Eva’s face turned a brighter red than Olivia’s, though, and the insulter apologized to the insulted one.

That did it for Olivia, though. Any chance she had to take down Eva she would take. She was beyond sick and tired of her cousin’s brazen insults, arrogance, and overall crass behavior. It was one thing to be just crass, but the other factors sometimes made Olivia crazy. She knew that Caleigh’s defense of such being Eva’s style of humor and tough love was true, but she personally disliked it and struggled to find any tolerance for it.

“Oh, brother, here comes the ‘Chance’ card,” Eva drew one and then took a deep sigh of relief.
“Is it bad?” Caleigh asked her.
“Not for me. It’s bad for one of you though.”
You may cleave gag the opponent of your choice for three turns (see rules).
“That’s bad for one of us for sure!” Caleigh studied it carefully.
“Let me see that rule sheet!” Eva adjusted her glasses and read carefully, “For $1100, I’ll do it!”
“Do what?!”

Caleigh read the rules while Eva grabbed one of her dirty socks from their sledding and walked up to her sister. She had to hear Caleigh’s voice every single day of the year, and getting a break from it would be fantastic. She wasn’t expecting Eva to kidnap-style tackle her and jam the sock in her mouth. A red bandana cleave gag and a strip of microfoam tape followed. Now, Caleigh understood, by doing the math, what Eva had done: she was gagged for the duration of the game.

Caleigh’s face had this most disgusted look upon it. Nothing was more unpleasant than the taste of Eva’s socks, and Olivia couldn’t prevent herself from giggling at the scowl. The tension seemed to increase in a mixture of disagreement and anxiety due to the evil chance cards. Eva was willing to risk her chances of victory to engage in a little domestic terrorism.

“I’m sorry, cuz, but the card says I get to do it! $1500 makes it more worth my time!”
“Grrm!” Olivia watched the closet door shut and leave her in darkness.
“We’ll wait for her time to run out,” Eva signed to Caleigh.

For $1500, she was willing to increase from simply “tied up in the closet” to “bound and gagged and tightly bound” in the name of fun. Sne had even paid for a longer duration, but unlike the gag she couldn't pay for Olivia to be tied up the entire game. Caleigh just watched and shook her head and wondered how this one would ever get what she deserved.

It wasn't fancy, but Olivia was unfortunate to be a gymnast and had her ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows tied together. Her gag was merely a cleave gag with strips of duct tape, but it wasn't how she wanted her game to go regardless. Now she had to wait 15 turns or 15 minutes, whichever came first. Here in the dark, her ability to escape was severely hampered.

The first step was to stand up, but that was much more awkward than Olivia expected. It was easy to then open the door and hop out and start uttering some gagged threats at Eva, but the big girl just laughed it off and enjoyed watching her captive’s faux anger. Olivia might have been feigning anger, but the threats were very real.

“Aw, poor Liv, having to spend this time all bound and gagged.”
“Mmmmmm!” Caleigh shoved her sister in a playful way.

Olivia had been trussed up so effectively that she wasn't escaping anytime soon. She had to wait or ruin Eva’s rope, and she wasn't doing that! She waited while sitting on Eva’s bed to deliberately add wrinkles to it. Eva wasn't the only one chasing the high of being playfully cruel. This one was unfortunately boring, and Olivia motioned for the others to keep playing. Just as quickly, Caleigh stumbled into some good fortune for herself and Olivia… sort of.

“Ha! No no no! Wheeee!” Olivia’s feet were attacked by Caleigh’s fingers.
“Rules is rules,” Eva spoke for her gagged sister.

Alas, it was only 30 seconds of tickling, so Olivia never got really tested during the torture. It added a little mirth to things, and watching her cousins play without her was a bit humbling. Caleigh’s fortunes continued to improve.

“Well, darn! Who came up with a card that allows you to do that?!”
“Ah dunno!” Caleigh took Eva’s hotel as her own.
“All is fair in love and war,” Eva rolled her eyes and scowled.
“Hee hee hee!” came from the victim of the rules.
“Oh, shut up!” the captor unknotted the ropes that bound the captive’s wrists.

Caleigh was glad to no longer be alone in what she knew was a hopeless battle. She was going to stave off Eva as long as she could so that Olivia could raise up her own stock in properties. She soon had the opportunity to put her strategy to work.

When Caleigh found herself so low on money that she could no longer pay her debts, she sold property to Olivia to pay off those debts, but she took advantage of the rules to settle her debts with Eva. It wasn't the best strategy, but it was all she had left to try to give Olivia a chance of defeating Eva. She signed her plan to her deaf sister.

“Rather than sell out and lose, I get to tie you up? Sure!” Eva loved tying her sister.
“Mmmmm!” Caleigh groaned at being tied for three turns.

This time, Caleigh did not try to escape and took her simple binding in stride. Wrists, ankles, and hogtie weren't too bad, but permitting Eva to spank her each turn might have been going too far. She had to make it irresistible, though. The spanks were worth it if she could just sell more properties to Olivia.

Fortunately for Caleigh, Olivia saw through Caleigh’s plan and worked with her to make this work. With some more time, Caleigh had sold out to Olivia, and now it was a mere matter of waiting for her to land on a space that belonged to one or the other. It was fortunately only the next turn, ending her suffering quickly.

“Awww,” Caleigh groaned as she landed on Eva’s space.
“Three bonds? No way! I want to really tie her up!” Eva tossed the rules sheet aside.
“Wait! My dad also bought some of these to help rectify our problems!” Olivia interfered.
“Bought what?”
“Check them out!” Olivia showed a package of wide cable ties.
“Ohhhhhhh sweeeeeet!” Eva studied them with great interest.

Eva couldn't resist the opportunity to put her sister in something inescapable. Zip cuffs were put on her wrists, and a cable went around her elbows as best as possible. Duct tape went above and below her breasts and around her waist. Cable ties secured her ankles, knees, shins, lower thighs, and upper thighs, and a regular zip tied her big toes. As promised, Eva shoved Caleigh under the bed, and she zipped Caleigh’s ankles and wrists to different parts of the the metal frame.

“You need more than that!” Olivia taunted when Eva initially used five bonds.
“Surely you can do better! Come on!” she pressed further.
“That'll run you $3000!” Olivia finally announced.
“The price I pay for…fun… I don't have that much cash!”
“Too late. Darn. Rules say you can't renege either.”
“But I… Grrrrrr! Gosh dang it!” Eva grimaced as she sold property to get the money.

The game had not at all gone the way Caleigh wanted. She had just wanted to win the game outright, and instead she was bound and gagged and jammed under her sister's bed. What a day it had been, and it ended in a rare scene in which she knew escape would never happen.

“I have to make this up somehow!” Eva’s desperation was obvious in her inflection.

To Eva’s great consternation, she drew a card which saw her have to forfeit a hotel. The Monopoly gods had turned against her, and she was slowly circling the drain. A natural fighter, she normally fought to the last drop of blood, but this time she had to give up.

“Livvie, you win. I’ve sold too much property and can't get it back.”
“Are you sure? I don't want to accept a false victory when you still have a chance.”
“No,” Eva leaned back, “Better to give up while I’ll still be a gracious loser.”

Eva was given a heavy treatment of rope… lots and lots of rope. Overkill in triumph now gave way to overkill in defeat. Her wrists, forearms, elbows, lower chest, upper chest, waist, ankles, shins, knees, lower thighs, and upper thighs were all tied. Olivia used her own socks from the morning to gag Eva and wrapped those under 8 layers of grey duct tape. The captive was then laid on the bed on her stomach, and her ankles were tied to the footboard so that her bare feet hung off it. Ropes went from her shoulders to the ends of the headboard. At least, in Eva’s opinion, her cousin had the least offensive feet.

SMACK!
“MMMMMMMMMMM!”
SMACK!
“MMMMMMMMMMM!”
SMACK!
“Owwwwwwwwwww!”
SMACK!
“Noooooooooooooo!”
“I’ll stop at that lest your parents or brothers suspend me upside down from the attic rafters. But you're not ticklish!”
“Heh heh!” Eva was proud of that fact.
“But I can do this!” she took a single yank on Eva’s hair.
“Yowtha!”

Eva squirmed quite angrily at the combined emotions from her defeat and punishment that had followed. She was a warrior through and through, and this extreme bondage was not on her menu for the day. Further squirming only caused Olivia to add a pink bandana blindfold though.

“Oh Caaaaaaaleeeeiiigghhh!”
“No no no! Ha ha ha! Nooooo!”

Even while so securely tied Olivia the gymnast still wedged herself under there and was tickling both of Caleigh’s rib cages at once. A heavy taste of Eva’s sock leached onto Caleigh’s tongue as a result. Olivia was sparing nothing, but then she decided to pause. They had all been through enough for one day, and she took a quick set of videos and photographs for them to remember this one. She knew if she went too far with the torture than it would all come back to her.

And they would forever recall with pleasure the day they all played TUG-opoly for the first time. It would, they figured, be the first of many.

NEXT: Birth of a Nation (ff/ff)

[Lucky Lottie]

A very interesting game of monopoly. Good bondage too.

[Mineira1986]

A standalone Monopoly story would be nice. With more time to develop the rules and the characters conflict.

[AlexUSA3]

A very interesting game of monopoly. Good bondage too.

My mind has more than just Monopoly in mind.

A standalone Monopoly story would be nice. With more time to develop the rules and the characters conflict.

I might just take you up on that one!

Birth of a Nation (ff/ff)

“I frankly think I am quite bad looking!” Nichole stepped out of her friend Jenny’s bathroom.
“You can just go ahead and change, Gangsta Queen. Black is my color,” shot Casey Clark.
“But… I’ve been wearing and loving it for years!” whined the curly-haired Irish girl.
“Look, Blakely, black is my favorite color, and as Club President I get first dibs.”
“C’mon, Case, be a pal,” Jenny mediated, “You can both–”
“No excuses today. Nichole has other colors she can wear.”
“Nichole,” Hannah whispered, “do it so she'll shut up.”

The quartet of Hannah Larsson, Jenny Kristensen, Nichole Blakely, and Casey Clark were meeting in the house where Jenny lived. This was their second official meeting as the Cool Girls’ Club, a group of girls who… that's why they were meeting. They didn't want to be truly exclusive or be cruel, but they wanted exclusivity whether that had meant members had to pass a test of some sort or be subjected to a harmless type of “torture.”

“Tickling?” Nichole had suggested, but that wasn't tough enough.
“A video game challenge?” had come from Casey.
“What the heck do you want to do? Tie them up?” Hannah had joked.

Casey had liked that idea though. In fact, she liked it so much that she used a little of her allowance money to buy rope at the hardware store and practiced on herself and on Hannah since the previous week’s meeting, and likewise Hannah had practiced as well.

“Is this better?” a defeated Nichole shuffled out.
“Quit whining. You know black’s my color on Club day.”
“You're always the cutest to me!” Jenny remained positive and squeezed against her friend.
“You two are so cute! Like sisters!” Hannah grinned.
“We sometimes say we're sisters.”

Jenny, on this cool late autumn afternoon was wearing brown sweatpants, a red t-shirt, and a pink bandana headband. Her blonde-brown hair was in a simple twist braid held by a brown scrunchie. She looked cozy and was cozy in her own home. Even if she was the smallest of the group by size, the others all were in agreement that she was the largest in spirit and embodied the true spirit of friendship.

Nichole was in black sweatpants, an icy blue long-sleeve t-shirt, and now an icy blue kerchief bandana. Unlike Jenny, she didn't remember life without her friend who was now known as the Gangsta Princess. The Gangsta Queen was the brains of the outfit.

Hannah, who wore white sweatpants, a blje t-shirt, and a white bandana headband, was the adventurous one. She had bold and crazy ideas, like tying up and gagging people for fun. Although some of her suggestions were in jest, her creativity mixed with Nichole’s mind to bring concepts to reality. Her platinum blonde hair was shining brilliantly in the present light.

Then there was Casey, Club President. Black jeans, a black long-sleeve t-shirt, and a black bandana headscarf were things reserved to her and her alone. The Club was her idea, and she made sure everyone knew it all the time. If she didn't have her way yet, she would within 10 minutes.

“We need to find something we can agree upon so that we have unity,” suggested Jenny.
“Well, we agree that we like to dress like Gangstas!” Casey took the first swing.
“Yes, it's our first fun little quirk. Maybe there's a game we all like?” Hannah looked around.
“Ummm, like maybe a video game or a board game? We're just the weird girls that wear bandanas during Skip-Bo games?” Nichole tried to develop the idea.
“Kind of what I was thinking. We're the cutest little Skip-Bo players.”
“Never heard of it,” Casey shot it down, “Remember Hannah made a joke about tying up and gagging people?”

Casey felt a bit embarrassed to say that. The thought of playfully kidnapping people sounded awesome, and she felt that she and Nichole were the right ones to do it with Jenny and Hannah as their first captives. Was she blushing? Her heart rate certainly had increased.

“Pretending to be a damsel in distress… fascinating idea Case,” Nichole thought it over, “Very Gangsta, but it sounds very sporting too! Like a dare or challenge.”
“You like it?” Casey grew hopeful.
“Well, it sounds like something out of sex ed, but we can sure make it a kids game.”
“Then,” the President shook with excitement, “Hold down Jenny.”
“Hold her down for what?” the Gangsta Queen scratched her head.
“So I can,” Casey showed a piece of rope, “Tie her up because I think she’ll be just adorable!” “Me?!” Jenny scrambled into the corner.
“Yes, adorable, cute, Gangsta, athletic, sassy, slender, innocent, cuddly, spunky, friendly Jenny.”
“What about Hannah? How about you since you're into it?” Jenny nervously watched all three approach her, “Mmmm!”
“Girls, hold her!” the bully ordered her minions.

Jenny had never been tied up in her life until now, but then Casey introduced her to the concept of being forcefully tied up and gagged. Casey only had a few ropes, so she tied Jenny’s wrists, ankles, and thighs. It was a slow and careful process to make sure she exactly and safely replicated the motions. Once she was sure about what she was doing, she double-checked the photos she had saved and tied Jenny’s elbows, and, much to her joy, the victim's elbows easily pulled together. Into Jenny's mouth went a clean black sock, and green bandana cleave gag held the sock firmly in her jaw. Lacking further, the President used a belt to pin Jenny’s arms just below her breasts.

“Mmmm!”
“She is pretty as a picture,” Nichole took out her phone.
“Nooooo!” Jenny kicked the air helplessly.
“And a video too. Oh, Jenny, you are absolutely adorable like Casey said you would be!”

Jenny squeaked and squirmed on the floor. She looked at her best friend and wailed as pitifully as she could, but instead she saw a wide grin on her face. How could she enjoy kidnapping someone else? What was the fun in this? Casey’s face had the euphoria of the experience having been all she wanted and more. Even Hannah, who normally was a harmless young girl, seemed tickled by the scene.

“Mmmmmm!” Jenny groaned a bit and worked the gag with her tongue
“You know what would make her even cuter? If we wrapped her face in tape,” Nichole suggested, “I’ll get some!”
“Hmmm!!”
“Hey!” Casey interrupted, “Get another piece of rope while you’re at it!”
“Oh, sure!”

Nichole walked into the garage which was perfectly organized by Jenny and her dad and looked for a rope and the tape. She soon returned to the living room with both things and sat on her sister's butt. She wasn't sure how much tape to use, so she just wrapped Jenny’s face until it felt good. Jenny’s squeals and squeaks became softer and softer until Nichole quit after nine wraps.

“Let me at her,” Casey gently pushed Nichole off her.

Jenny shot daggers from her eyes while Casey tied her wrists and ankles together. A loud groan of dissatisfaction followed as the rope was knotted securely. Now she was even more firmly imprisoned and unable to go anywhere! What on earth were these friends of hers thinking?! And beyond all other things, why did she like this?!

“Jenn, see if you can escape! I know you can do it!” Casey encouraged her.
“Hmm…,” Jenny felt buoyed by the President's charisma.
“What are these called?” Nichole asked her.
“The term I saw was ‘Tie Up Games,’ or ‘TUGs’ for short.”
“What else can you tie people with?”
“Um… tape, of course, just like on TV. Bandanas, scarves, zip ties, handcuffs…”
“Bandanas and zip ties we have in excess! I’ll be back!”

Nichole went to the garage again and grabbed a package of zip ties. She then went to the bedroom and rifled her drawer for her bandanas. Yes, Nichole spent enough time at Jenny’s that she has her own dresser even if it was mostly empty.

“Here we are. Let's tie up Hannah!” Nichole shamelessly announced.
“You really are Gangsta, Gangsta Queen!” Casey laughed heartily.
“Mmmmmmmmmmm!” Jenny wailed a little in her first ever TUG.
“We practiced together! We should tie her up!” Hannah tried to flip the tables.
“I have to learn how to do it somehow!” Nichole defended her intentions.
“No choice, Hannah, we’re doing it!” the Club President tackled her friend.
“Get off me!” Hannah yelled quite angrily.
“Quick, gag her!” suggested Casey.
“On it!”
“MMMMMM!” Hannah yelled into the sock instead.

Nichole quickly tied a black bandana cleave gag and wrapped the blonde’s face in seven layers of the same grey duct tape. She pulled out some of the zips and started by zipping Hannah’s wrists together. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to do her friend’s elbows with a single zip like the wrists, but two put together worked. Two zip held Hannah’s thighs together, and a solitary one held her ankles. At Casey’s suggestion, Nichole put Nichole into a hogtie just like Jenny.

“You did a good job, and you enjoyed it like me!”
“I did enjoy it! A lot! It was a silly thrill.”
“Ah’ll hill -ou -oth!” Hannah shrieked into her gag.
“Pass me a bandana, Gangsta Queen,” Casey motioned.

Casey took the offered white bandana, folded it into a wide band, and blindfolded her friend with it. Eyes cannot shoot daggers when the eyes cannot be seen. Just as Jenny finally understood her position enough to undo the hogtie, Nichole asked a question for which Casey had no good answer.

“What happens now? What do we do with them?”
“Well, um… We could… um… some people spank them, I saw,” Casey scratched her head.
“I can’t do that to Jenny.”
“Yeah, -ou han’h ho -hat ho -e!” Jenny struggled to escape her arm bondage.

Jenny didn’t understand it, either, but she liked it. It was like being the damsel who was awaiting rescue from peril. Hannah, on the other hand, hated her situation. She did not want to be bound or gagged, but she especially hated the zip ties. Rope or tape she could forgive, but genuine pain was off the table. Swears were flying off her mouth as she howled and screeched into the gag. It was the unfortunate reality that zips were dangerous and that just didn’t know better.

“Oh, my goodness! My eyes!” Nichole grew wide-eyed, “You didn’t say that this was a type of erotica!”
“Oh, so adults do some bad stuff with it. I can find pictures of people making out while dressed as Super Mario and Princess Peach if I try.”
“It’th hun!” Jenny sided with Casey.
“Well, if you ever touch my crotch or boobs, I’ll cut your fingers off.”
“She’s a real Gangsta!” Casey pointed to Nichole and looked at Jenny.

The rope hugged Jenny’s body nicely, and she felt strangely safe and comfortable with the present company despite her vulnerability. It was like a strange smothering hug to be bound and gagged, and she hoped her friends had as much fun being her nabbers as she did being nabbed. Why was it so thrilling?

Jenny kept struggling and finally had the ropes off her arms enough that she could begin to untie her legs. She did bother with the tape, but she had a happy look in her eyes that Nichole rarely saw except when Jenny truly loved doing something. The blonde struggled to untie her legs, but Casey took that over so that Jenny could untape her face. Jenny did it all slowly and carefully. The tape was off, but then she had to unknot the cleave gag as well.

“That was fun!” she practically bounced where she sat on the floor.
“Was it really?” Nichole watched her enthusiastically spring up.
“It was so awesome, Nichole! You and I have a new game to play for a long time to come.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, we won’t like it that much!” Nichole tried to remain realistic.
“Ah’ll h-ckin’ hill all uh -ou!” Hannah yelled into her gag some more.
“Oh, come on, Hannah, it's not so bad once you see it as a game!” Jenny crouched down by her.
“H-ck -ou!” Hannah blindly flashed both middle fingers, “Ah’ll hie -ou up hirtht an- hock -ou in the hlotheh!”
“We have to do something; she’ll have a stroke before the hour's up,” Casey shook her head.
“She said that to… me?” Jenny stepped back and shook a little.
“No wonder she's upset; the zips are cutting her!” observed Nichole.
“Well that explains why she’s unhappy being tied up!”
“Ewwwwww… I think I know why she's so crabby,” Jenny watched the captive.
“Oh, God, let's get her out of here!” Nichole quickly cut the zips.
“I’ll take her home!” Casey helped her friend up.
“Necth hime ah’ll hie -ou uh!”

Jenny and Nichole, after the hasty farewells, just looked at each other in stupefied silence. Never had they witnessed such anger, nor had they seen white clothes so disgustingly destroyed before. Their first game of TUGs was enough for Jenny to fall in love, and it helped them all to realize that some rules and boundaries needed to be put into place. Seeing the picture of herself tied up only strengthened Jenny’s feelings about it.

“I could have spent all day like that, but I have homework to do so I can’t,” said the tiny girl.

And she looked forward to opportunities to play more games with her sister and their two friends.

[Lucky Lottie]

An good first tie for Jenny. Hanna... not so much

[AlexUSA3]

Author’s note: This is my first major “retcon” I have imposed in these stories. Given the character I developed throughout the run of the CGC, it seemed inconsistent for the character of Casey to have been left aside all those years. Especially in light of what had happened to Casey, I cannot imagine Nichole, and especially Jenny, not doing something to help the founder of the Cool Girls’ Club.

Casey’s Black Friday (f/self)

Casey Clark never did have Thanksgiving with her family. The young native of Mudville, instead, had a very special Thanksgiving with her family. You see, Casey had a very different life from other girls her age; well, the time from her birth until she was about 4 weeks old was very different.

All Casey knew was that her dad, an Argentine graduate student at the University of Minnesota, had a hook-up with a then freshman girl from Mudville. The girl became pregnant with his child and only knew after he had graduated at the end of that semester and gone home; embarrassed, the girl had the child and abandoned her at the fire station shortly after birth. Thus, the baby, who was named Casey by the young woman, came to live in the Clark family.

“Mom and Pop,” as Casey called them, had no children of their own, so Casey became the joy of their lives. The young girl was prodigious in some regards, becoming a master of both classical guitar as well as using her talents of both music and song in their church. Despite some minor attention at the time, few people truly knew of Casey’s origins, and none of them cared: she was a Clark to all who knew her and loved as the child of Mom and Pop.

After a fight with the pastor’s daughter, a typical situation, Casey drifted from her family’s ways and began a three year struggle with various things; she tried to remain in the paths of her parents as a homeless Christian but faltered. During this phase, Casey started the Cool Girls’ Club with her friends, established herself as a bully, and found herself ousted from the club. Never had she considered simply asking forgiveness for her actions; instead, she found herself on the outside of the circle of friends that she had brought together. She slowly reconciled with each of the girls she had in various ways hurt and renewed her friendships, but TUGs didn’t come back to her life so soon. Of course everyone knew: word that a 16 year-old almost died of a stroke gets around a small town very quickly.

A seemingly minor fall turned to tragedy, however, when the injury led to cerebral hemorrhaging and subsequently a stroke. She became helpless and suddenly had to learn everything again: to talk, to walk, to eat, to dress herself, etc. Almost by divine intervention, though, she instinctively picked up her guitar once again. Through it all, she had the support of her family and two other friends: Morris, their Maine Coon cat, and Gem, their Golden Retriever. She also had to learn something else: to tie herself up for self-bondage.

On Black Friday, rather Thanksgiving Night, Pop, a Hennepin County Sheriff, would gladly accept the overtime hours to work at the Wal-Mart in Mudville or even go up to the shopping centers on the southside of Minneapolis or in Minnetonka. Which store he worked would also determine where Casey and her mother would go if they wanted a bargain because they knew Pop would make sure they were safe.

With trepidation, the young girl, having only re-learned to drive weeks before, drove herself and her mother to the store. It was Black Friday, so she was in all black: sweatpants, canvas shoes, socks, long-sleeve t-shirt, hoodie, kerchief bandana, and bandana neckerchief. It was all so many layers, but she also had problems keeping warm. Cold weather affected her ability to do things after the stroke. There was also another plan, though.

White was the magic color. Casey’s rope supply was white with nothing else but it in her collection. After an evening of shopping fun, there was another itch to scratch. The shopping itch was gone, but now there was the desire to be a kidnapped CGC Gangsta. At least, she still considered herself a Cool Girl at heart, but one in exile. How little she knew what was coming her way the next morning.

Over the years, Casey had mastered the techniques of self-bondage using that white rope and some padlocks, but she had only done it twice, to dissatisfactory results, since her stroke. But, tonight, she was determined to regain her lost ways; she was still Casey Clark, and she was still at heart the lovable “Gangsta Friend” even if she had been a bad friend in the past. Living up to that title required her to continue the CGC tradition with her black bandana because black had always been her color.

She shut the door to her room as she did every night and turned on the light; it was her standard routine to sometimes watch TV, read a book, cram for a test, do homework, or play some video games before winding down for the night and putting on her pajamas. It was her one hour of personal time or, as she called it, her “time to chill.”

Morris looked at her from his cat tree in the corner of the room with a typical relaxed face, and she gave him a couple of nice pets. Of course, when she gave him a kiss, he simply glanced back at her and started purring, and she wasted five minutes satisfying the cat’s desire to be pet. Then she remembered her goal.

Out from the closet came the big red shoebox, a previous holder of snowboots, chosen because it was the only red one she had so that she could easily tell others to get things for her. It lived near the left end of the closet in a lineup with several others. With the closet door open, she could now see herself in the mirror. It was an awful sight with some of her hair still much shorter than the rest, and quickly she shut the door and turned away from the monstrosity. Such was another reason she continued to wear the kerchiefs.

In the box were a dozen white ropes, a neatly folded pile of bandanas, five pairs of white crew socks, several locks, and a partial roll of, naturally, black duct tape. Tonight, she only needed one sock, and she was already wearing the bandana she needed! Grabbing her iPad as well, she perused the documents for the PDF with the screenshots and self-created images that instructed her on the ways of self-bondage.

Morris was clueless at what his human was doing when she took out five ropes from her box and put them on the bed and then added a sock to that. She grabbed the top bandana, bright yellow, in case she wanted a blindfold. The cat simply blinked a cat kiss at her and hoped she would pet him some more.

Instead, Casey was tying her ankles together with one of the pieces of the white rope. Her heart raced with excitement at the thought of returning to one of her old hobbies. When Mom and Pop would be at work, this was a great way to pass the time when she was home alone. To do it after so long was almost like another checkbox in her recovery from the stroke. With the same skill with which she used to bind her friends, Casey bound her thighs tightly.

She unknotted the bandana that had just a little time before been used to protect her face against the cold Minnesota weather while she shopped with her mother. In her all black like this, she was glad to not have been mistaken for a burglar. She took off her hoodie and hung it on the knob of her headboard, as she usually did. The paisley black cotton square was folded into a narrow strip, and she placed the sock right on the flower in the center. She knotted the bandana around the sock to make a combination of a stuffed-knotted cleave gag and put the sock in her mouth before knotting the bandana under her hair.

The hard part would be the elbow-wrist portion. The hogtie started by creating a continuous loop of rope by knotting the ends together. Now, she had to move onwards and turned off the volume on her phone. Skipping the blindfold, Casey took her little remote and dimmed the lights as she normally would do and laid down on her stomach upon her purple comforter with her head toward the foot of the bed. Instead, the yellow bandana became an OTM gag.

Much work was needed in order to bind her arms, but with some labor she had her elbows and wrists secured with her wrist rope secured with the padlock. With her design, her elbows couldn’t be loosened until her wrists were loosened, and her elbow rope wasn’t too strict since hers couldn’t touch as it was. Once the wrists were together, it was hogtie time.

The rope loop had to be pulled around her ankles and wrists until she was satisfied. The more times she pulled it, the more stringent the hogtie was. Sometimes she did one, and sometimes she went as high as six for ankles and wrists touching with no space! Tonight, she did three. As soon as the padlock clicked, Casey was officially bound and gagged at her own hands. The keys were attached to the hogtie loop, and there were safety scissors in case things went completely awry.

“Hmph!” she quietly complained as though a friend had tied her up instead of herself.

She imagined herself having been tied up by her former TUG buddies, who were now just more vanilla friends to her. How hard it was to still see the posts of those three still tying and gagging each other for fun and doing so without her. It had been this way for nearly two years now, and she always held out hope over that time that eventually something would change.

“Mmmph!” the sock absorbed her saliva without mercy.

The sad part of self-bondage was that escape was certain as long as you didn’t flirt with danger. It was so much more interesting being a captive at the hands of another person because they were in control of your fate, more or less. Escape was uncertain and often a necessary goal, especially if the captor were the type who would tickle her captives.

The feeling of the ropes clamping down upon her body was usually relaxing, but tonight instead it brought back memories of her fun times with those other girls. A positive girl like Casey did not give much consideration to her ouster but instead upon the good times leading up to it. It was time… to ask her friend Jenny; if anyone was willing to give her another chance in TUGs, it was the warm-hearted Jenny.

God, please give me another chance to be their friend. Give me the strength to ask.

A TUG at the hogtie rope proved her self-bondage to be an effective one. She was not going to have an easy time escaping this one, and she let out a groan of feigned despair and kicked out just a little. Unfortunately for her, reverie had stolen away more of her time in the self-bondage, and it was already time to free herself. She glanced and saw the eyeshine that showed Morris to still be in his usual position.

Casey took careful hold of the keys and made sure she had a secure grip upon one of the four on the chain before trying it in the hole. Wrong. There were two pairs of locks that each had a pair of matching keys, and she had to struggle to get the right one. She tried another. Wrong. Third time’s the charm? Wrong. Grabbed the same one a second time. Fourth? YES! This was why she never studied the locks before using them: she had to make it a challenge in some way.

Casey lowered her legs and now sat up so she could repeat the exercise on her wrist bonds. This time she had the right key on the first try, and both her wrist and elbow bonds came off with ease once the padlock was off. She quickly untied her legs, straightened up the ropes, and put them in the box. Unknotting the gag was easy, and the yellow bandana didn’t have time to even get wet, so back into the box it went as a nice neat square. The sock would go into the laundry and look like one of the many socks of the same kind that she regularly wore.

Soon, the box was back in the closet in its usual place, and Casey had changed into solid, you guessed it, black fleece pajamas and gotten into her bed with its purple comforter and pulled one of her mother’s homemade quilts over herself for extra warmth. She grabbed her phone to check it one final time before turning it off. To her surprise, there was a text from none other than her friend Jenny from just 7 minutes before.

We brought home so much food that my mom suggested I have a Friends-giving tomorrow. Would you like to come? Sorry to send this so late. We got home an hour ago.

Casey’s heart leapt with joy. God was so good and showed His love in so many ways. Without a thought, Casey replied that she would be there and that she was certain her parents would be OK with it. With a smile, Casey turned off her phone and turned out the light. The sooner she went to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come!

Next: A Joy-ful Thanksgiving (ff/ff)

[hafnermg]

Another fun adventure!

[Lucky Lottie]

I hope all goes well with her. Such a nice little story

[AlexUSA3]

Another fun adventure!

I am glad you enjoyed it.

I hope all goes well with her. Such a nice little story

Let's see how it goes.

A Joy-ful Thanksgiving (ff/ff)

Jenny Danielle Kristensen never forgot about Casey. Even as a teenager, Jenny was already known for writing down the names and reasons of people for whom she wanted to pray on a regular basis. The name Casey Clark had been on her list from the day of their separation, and she finally got the courage to visit when word spread throughout the school that the club founder was so seriously ill.

The girl Jenny met that day was very different from the one that had left her friend’s house 22 months earlier. They were freshmen then, and now they were juniors. Visiting Casey not only was a big step for Casey but also one for Jenny. It marked a change in her from a girl who would do anything to hide from those who had emotionally hurt her to one who was much more caring and forgiving.

When Jenny’s mother said she could have a Friends-giving, of course the girl accepted. It was common for her and her parents to come back from their massive family reunions with tons of food for all. This year, so much food was left with them that they didn’t know what to do with it!

Every Thanksgiving was hard for this particular branch of the Kristensen family. Some 13 years earlier, when Jenny was just shy of turning 4, on the day after Thanksgiving, Jenny’s big brother, Daniel, her only sibling, died after a 2 year battle with cancer. She took the photo off the mantle of the fireplace and sat down on the sofa and held it to her chest with tears rolling down her cheeks. She sat there in her red sweatpants, a brown t-shirt, and a camouflage bandana headband.

“Leave me alone!” Nichole said to her older brother with fury, “You’re such a b-tch!”
“Don’t talk to your brother that way! You’re a freak like your sister!”

Nichole’s father pinned her to the wall and struck her several times on the back. With a mixture of hatred and tears, Nichole ran up the stairs to the living room. Without a word, she grabbed her icy blue hoodie and tied another icy blue bandana over her face for protection and headed toward the door.

“Don’t you want to go shopping?” her mother asked.
“No! I’m going to see my friends instead!”

Despite the sub-zero weather, Nichole was glad there was no snow or ice to be found. She wore the hoodie and mask along with navy blue sweats, an icy blue long-sleeve t-shirt, a navy blue kerchief bandana, black canvas sneakers, and white socks. She hadn’t either a hat or gloves that fit her to wear against the elements. She jumped on her bike and rode to her friend Joy’s house.

Joy and her family had decorated on Thanksgiving. For Joy, it was precious with her sister home from college, but after a long flight and a big day, Joy and her father had to do the Black Friday shopping on their own. After an eventful morning, Joy was lying on the sofa enjoying the sight of the beautifully decorated tree. Anticipating CGC style fun, she wore brown leggings and a brown bandana headband with a purple t-shirt. The knock on the door of her friend interrupted her reverie.

“Hey, Nichole!” Joy opened the door to see her friend, “Go to the garage, and I’ll meet you!”

Joy quickly grabbed her purple hoodie, hat, and gloves and headed to the garage. Soon, she and Nichole were riding their bikes toward Jenny’s house. Nichole had cried so much that she didn’t realize her tears were still glistening in the sunlight. Joy was disheartened to see this and knew to give her best so that today would be a happy memory in her friend’s life. They parked their bikes by the door of Jenny’s house and put the locks in place. Knowing she could do so, Nichole unlocked the door with her own key and let herself into the house.

“Jenny, are you OK?” Joy asked when she stepped into the house.
“I’m,” Jenny sniffed and tightened her grip on the photo, “I’m OK. I was just reminiscing.”
“A red Monte just pulled up in front of here. Do you know who that is?” Nichole interrupted.
“I miss Daniel so much this time of year,” the sobbing girl didn’t seem to listen to her friend.
“Jenn, not being rude, but someone’s walking up to the door,” continued the blue girl.
“I suspect I know who it is.”

Jenny walked over to the door after hearing the knock. Wiping her tears from her eyes, she went to the door and opened it. There, on the other side, was a brightly smiling girl leaning on a metal crutch after having just pulled down the yellow bandana that had masked it before. Joy looked at both Jenny and Nichole in horror and retreated while the surprise guest just shook her head.

“Come in! I thought you’d be here sooner,” Jenny motioned in her usual friendly manner.
“Cold weader cautheth problemth. Can’t walk, sleep later,” Casey tightly embraced Jenny and slurred a little while stumbling a little, “Sthroke brain, I call it.”
“Get over here, Gangsta!” Nichole took Casey out of Jenny’s arms.
“It’th the Queen herself! It’s good to be here again. Jenny, I jutht love how cozy your home is.”
“Come on, Joy, get over here!” Jenny motioned.
“Jenny and Nichole, the first two people from Mudville High to visit me when I was sick.”

Joy stood rooted in her spot in the corner by the window. The sight of Casey Clark terrified her and brought back memories of that horrid weekend. Unlike the other two, Joy never knew Casey from before. She studied the figure at a distance. A yellow bandana had been her mask, a black bandana was her kerchief, black jeans were on her legs along with black-and-white canvas shoes, and her long-sleeve t-shirt was yellow. At least, that’s what became visible after Casey removed her heavy pink winter coat. She had also carried a guitar case and backpack, apparently.

Casey wasn’t pushing; she knew what she’d done. Instead, at Jenny’s behest, she took off her shoes to reveal yellow crew socks and sat sideways on the sofa with her legs on the cushions. Jenny sat down under her guest’s legs, and Nichole sat on the loveseat. Into the living room came Jenny’s father with the Christmas tree.

“I thought you girls would like being here for this,” Jenny explained, “Even if you don’t help.”
“Jenny, why did you,” Joy motioned nervously, “Why is she here?!”
“Because she’s my friend,” the Gangsta Princess grew tight lipped, “People change.”
“Four months back, I sent Joy an apology on Messenger,” Casey laughed, “She blocked me.”
“I’m going home,” Joy started to get up, but Nichole pulled her down, “Hey!”
“Now, look here,” Nichole gazed into Joy’s eyes, “Would I give her a chance if she was a jerk?”
“Joy, I really am sorry for what happened,” Casey smiled brighly, “Please, give me a chance.”
“I’m ashamed. I blocked you. I never visited you. I threw you out. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Jenny threw her arms in the air, “Thank God that day led to a change of heart in Casey!”

Somewhat involuntarily, Joy stood up and was dragged to the sofa by Nichole. Next thing the girl in purple and brown knew she was seated between Jenny and Nichole with Casey sitting across all of their laps. That feeling in Joy’s heart was the loving power of forgiveness and the true joy it brings. At this point, Jenny’s parents had left to do some shopping and left the four alone.

“What would you like to do?” Jenny asked her guests.
“Well, um…,” Casey grew a little excited and looked at Joy, “It’s been so long since I…”
“Since you what?” Nichole’s excitement terminated her patience, “Out with it.”
“I haven’t played TUGs with anyone except myself since then.”
“Casey,” Jenny giggled a little, “Is that what you want to do?”
“Only if you don’t mind,” the weak girl blushed a little.

Jenny looked at Nichole and smiled. Nichole didn’t smile, but she nodded in understanding. They both looked at Joy, and Nichole grabbed her torso and head while Jenny grabbed her legs. Without a word being spoken, Casey reached over to grab her backpack in which she had put, among other things, some of her rope.

Casey tied up Joy slowly and carefully and with much more care than the previous occasions in which Joy had been bound and gagged at Casey’s commands and hands. Rope tied her crossed wrists, breasts (above and below with one rope), ankles, and thighs. A knotted white bandana and strips of black duct tape gagged her. After 15 minutes, she was being cuddled by the founder of the Cool Girls’ Club with Nichole acting as security guard because Jenny had stood up to put the food in the oven for their lunch.

Now, Joy realized the meaning of “eat crow.” She studied her captor and noticed the awful state of her head and understood why this girl of all would wear kerchiefs to school let alone at home. The stroke victim pulled her mask over her face again and took a couple of selfies with her teddy bear named Joy. To be as joyful in this moment as she was could only mean Casey truly changed for the better.

“Thank you girls, for your help. Say, Jenny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your brother.”
“We don’t talk about it much,” Jenny sighed and leaned on the back of the sofa.
“Even I don’t know much,” Nichole admitted while getting a sisterly kiss from Jenny.
“This one,” the Gangsta Princess patted Nichole’s head, “Filled the hole he left behind.”
“No, I can never do that.”
“It’s perfect. Gangsta Queen and Gangsta Princess, sisters from different mothers.”
“Mmmmm,” Joy squirmed a little.
“I didn’t forget you,” Casey squeezed her tightly, “You’re the one that’s the perfect cuddle toy.”
“Speaking of cuddle toys,” Jenny walked over to Casey, “You’ll make a nice one.”

Casey wasn’t paying attention and instead looked into Joy’s eyes. Like it or not, Joy’s eyes let everyone know that she wasn’t completely comfortable with the present situation and probably was waiting to get stabbed in the back or otherwise hurt again. She found it hard to be grateful that her former enemy was now transformed into a nicer person with the same charismatic leader qualities as before. It was concerning that the girl in black could still talk people into doing her bidding.

Something in that girl’s eyes though was kind. Jenny looked at the guitar case propped against the piano; next to it was a violin case. Even if Joy wasn’t Casey’s friend, they both were among Jenny’s friends and had equal right to be here. Moreso, Nichole was also friends with all three; if anyone was the odd one, it was unfortunately herself.

Joy remembered all the pressure she received from her classmates, especially Jenny and Nichole, to visit Casey. Even Joy’s mother pleaded with her to go, and she had resolutely refused and had regretfully used the word “hate” to describe how she felt about this particular person. She tried to remember three images: Casey the first night of the horrid sleepover, Casey’s sadness at being thrown out of the house, and the day Casey wheeled into the classroom for the first time.

How would Joy feel if it had been the other way? If she had been the one who nearly died? If a former friend came to visit to apologize, unconditionally, for their ill behavior and to forgive her own? If she then told them that she wanted to apologize to someone, and that person refused? If when she reached out on her own, that person rebuffed her efforts? Only a few months before, it had all happened. How would Joy feel if Casey had… died?

“Ay-hee ah’m hohy,” Joy softly muttered.
“I don’t know what she’s trying to say,” Casey groaned a little, “I’m out of practice.”
“Ay-thee… ah’m thohhy,” the brown bandana girl looked into her captor’s eyes.
“I forgave you the day you blocked me,” the captor smiled back at the captive and embraced her tightly, “Here’s proof.”
“Joy, I did one of your own tricks! I hacked your phone and sent Casey a friend request,” Jenny was quite proud of herself.
“She is so sweet, and I love her more than the world,” Nichole tightly hugged her friend.

Jenny really did love Nichole like a sister, and, contrary to Nichole’s insistence otherwise, the Gangsta Queen really did show up in Jenny’s life at just the right time to fill the void left by the tragic death of her big brother. Jenny and Nichole went into Jenny’s adjoining bedroom and soon returned: Jenny had a camouflage bandana mask, and Nichole pulled her icy blue back up and over her face. They sneaked over behind Casey and grabbed her by surprise.

“MMMM!”

Casey thought she would explode from the excitement. Only twice had she been kidnapped by her CGC friends during her first stint in the Club, but she had kept her excitement secret in order to appear strong as the leader. Now, she was not only about to get kidnapped but also, if she got the chance, to introduce something new to her rediscovered friends.

The new captive was thrilled to be getting properly bound with her friend Jenny’s rough brown rope, with her wrists and elbows properly bound and with a true pair of wrappings above and below her nearly non-existent boobs (or A cups, as some call them) and another at her waist. Her legs were tied at her ankles, knees, thighs, and below her waist. The captive was picked up and gently tossed onto the sofa next to Joy.

“Hey, want to try something fun?” Casey asked between bursts of hearty laughter.
“Always!” Nichole bounced up from checking the knots on the leg bonds.
“Take my socks off my feet and gag me with them!”
“Say what?!” Nichole pulled back and then sniffed close to Casey’s socks, “Oof! No way!”
“It’s fun for me! Just because I like it doesn’t mean you have to try it on yourselves.”
“Oh, all right, but you better not barf!” Jenny knelt down and began pulling the socks off.
“I promise I won’t; I brought a spare pair to wear home anyway.”

Jenny pushed the socks into Casey’s mouth and heard a slight groan of initial disgust; otherwise, the girl was fine. Jenny removed the captive’s yellow bandana mask, folded it, and used it for a cleave gag. Five strips of the black duct tape from Casey’s bag finished her gag. Gently, Jenny brushed Casey’s hair out of her face and made sure no strands were caught in the gag.

Casey couldn’t believe it. She was finally tied up once again! This kind of friendly kidnapping was the ideal kind of TUG for her, and she looked at the now more comfortable Joy and then at Jenny and Nichole. Realizing how much forgiveness and love had to be in the hearts of Jenny and Nichole to invite her back to this house and back into the CGC like this, Casey started crying tears of joy.

“Awww, Nichole, look at her,” Jenny was touched by it.
“This girl didn’t know if she’d ever walk or talk again, and here she is playing a game she loved and missed so much!” Nichole sat down on the opposite side from Joy and hugged Casey.
“I think she’s crying because she can’t believe we so eagerly gave her a second chance.”
“Mmm,” Casey nodded in agreement with Jenny and pushed tightly against Nichole.
“She still loves TUGs,” Nichole tightened her grip, “I have seven joys right here.”
“Seven?” Jenny sat with Joy and gave her a girlfriend kiss, “I see three.”
“You, Casey, turkey, music, Christmas, Joy, and Joy. Joy counts twice because Joy’s a joy!”

Jenny smiled and without a word went to the closet. One of the great blessings in Jenny’s life was that her mother loved sewing and quilting. She grabbed one of the quilts and together she and Nichole cozied under the thick fabric blanket with their bound and gagged friends. Jenny, as much as she liked Casey, had a special spot for Joy that ranked beneath only Nichole in her life; Nichole had a similar spot for Casey.

Jenny tightly squeezed her friend in the hug until Joy began squirming. Nichole imitated this, but Casey instead enjoyed and softened into even more of a teddy bear. Casey may have been roiling a little on the taste of her dirty socks, but she had, during her self-bondage games, put much worse of her own socks in her mouth. It was a slow leach of flavor, and given her late awakening the socks hadn’t been on her feet too long.

“I think that gag is gross. What about you, sis?” Nichole asked to break the silence.
“I’d be OK with it being done to me as long as my socks were used.”
“I'm surprised by you even saying that.”
“Hey!” Jenny became squeaky, “I might be a Princess, but a Gangsta one at that!”
“OK, Gangsta Princess, I admit I’d eat your socks too,” Nichole deadpanned.
“Say what? You're crazy, girl,” Jenny shook her head, “Let's tickle them!”

Jenny, the Princess of the Gangstas was Queen of the ticklers. With her tiny size, she could get her hands into places the others couldn't, especially when the victim was effectively tied up. Taking Joy, Jenny was able to get into the most sensitive points along Joy’s armpits and ribs despite the ropes. Nichole took a guess and was correct; Casey was most sensitive on her feet.

Joy and Casey howled into their respective gags. Even if it was just ten minutes of tickling, it was enough to bring tears to Casey’s eyes. She hadn't been tickled like this since the last time this same girl tickled her! Despite her efforts to resist the torture, there was nothing Casey could do except accept her suffering. The laughter made the taste of her socks seep onto her tongue more strongly.

More than the TUGs and tickling, Casey had missed the friendships. She could forget that she was permanently handicapped. Similarly, Nichole had forgotten the pain of her morning abuse. Jenny had put aside the pain of her brother's death. Even Joy had a benefit in that she could put aside the long-standing guilt of the wrongs she had done by Casey.

“I love you girls,” Nichole sat in between the two captives when the timer went off.
“Mmmmm!” both squeezed up against Nichole while they breathed heavily.
“I agree!” Jenny said as she checked on the food.
“It's always good to be here… and actually be loved.”
“This food is done! I’ll put some things to nuke, but it's time to free these two!”
“Mmmmm!” the captives bounced happily.

Nichole took time to make sure she untied each girl properly. Casey had forgotten what it was like to be kidnapped and so roughly tied up, and she wondered when she would have the opportunity to get back at the Gangsta Queen and Princess. Joy felt much more comfortable with the present company than she had before.

“And thank you God for… making us friends,” Casey concluded the grace before the meal.
“Amen!” Jenny agreed most heartily of all.
“Amen,” Joy humbled herself and agreed with that.

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a whirlwind. First, it was video games. Second, Jenny’s parents returned, so they all then decorated the tree. After the tree decorating was finished, the music began with Casey with her guitar, Nichole at the piano, and Jenny with her violin.

It was a fitting conclusion to a very special Friendsgiving.

Next: Thanks to the Bridge

[Lucky Lottie]

A nice happy story, thank you

[AlexUSA3]

A nice happy story, thank you

Thankfully we have two more happy Thanksgiving stories coming!

Thanks to the Bridge (FMf/f)

Bridget Sjaastad sat on the couch in her father’s living room and stared blankly at the wall. The high school junior had, despite her efforts, failed to convince her parents to attempt to reunite the family between now and Christmas. Her mother was going to the grandparents, and her paternal grandparents were spending the day with her aunt and company. She didn’t cry or pout that her father insisted that Thanksgiving be just her, her older brother, her older sister, and him.

Bridget wanted her baby sister there, though, and she begged her father to ask. He wouldn’t budge, though, and remained firm. Since the divorce the prior summer, almost daily Bridget pleaded with her father to put forth his own effort in attempting to fix things. All she wanted was to have the family be a family again.

“I’m not beyond making a paternal suggestion that Michael kidnap his little sister for a while.”

That had shut her up and in. Now, she sat on the couch in a catatonic state just as the clock struck 11AM. Even her older sister, Erin, being home from college didn’t help her mood. Erin came up behind her sister and quietly sat down next to her and gently put her head on Bridget’s shoulder.

“I want Kristi,” Bridget said and then folded her arms with flat lips.
“Aren’t you glad I’m here?” Erin asked knowing she was the star of Bridget’s life.
Silence
“Would you like to play a game with me?”
Silence
“Let’s go make something tasty, hmm? Dad’s getting dinner from Hy-Vee or Meijer or one of those anyway.”
Silence
“Bridge, I want Kristina here too, more than you, because I’ve barely seen her since she was a toddler!”

Bridget snapped her head around and looked into her sister’s eyes and hugged her tightly. Young Bridget was so different from the adult version; this one was repressed and traumatized by the ugly world of divorce court. After being needled by lawyers for hours, the slimy professionals desperately hoping to make her slip up in their side’s favor, she had become this quiet shell. It had been a tragedy that had seen Bridget rise to be her class’s bully before a victim with an Exacto knife had taught her a lesson. Now, Erin wanted to crack open that shell and bring back the Bridget she had left when she went to college.

“Now, let’s do something together, hmm?” Erin asked in a soft, kind voice.
Silence
“Wouldn’t you like to bake or play or anything?”
Silence
“How about I just tie you up and shut you in the closet?” Erin got sarcastic.
Nodding
“Would you rather I tied you up and cuddled you?”
“Please?” Bridget finally spoke, “Don’t gag me. I want to ask you something.”

Erin knew how to get her sister to open up to her; Bridget only hid things from her sister when she felt her sister would be the one most upset by it. To get this far gave Erin the reassurance that her sister would be OK; she just needed a pick-me-up. The older girl grabbed a bag of rope and sat down next to her little sister, who had already put her arms together behind her back.

Erin was the oldest of the four Sjaastad siblings, with a 5 year gap from her to Bridget and over 8 years from Bridget to Kristina. Erin was several inches taller than Bridget, maybe 5’8”, but she was very slender. Bridget was short but stronger than girls much taller than herself and very firmly built. Scandinavian ancestry was readily apparent in their appearance with both girls having platinum blonde hair. Bridget’s hair grew freely, but Erin kept her own shoulder length due to migraines caused by the weight.

Fashionably they differed as well. Erin had gentle perfect amounts of makeup to hide the blemishes from a brutal case of chickenpox and always looked like a lady worthy of a knight whether she was wearing pants or a skirt. Bridget, on the other hand, had never had any pox, had successfully dodged teenage acne, and had no shame about the few blemishes she had. Anything from shorts to sweats to dresses was fine because she put function over form.

As long as she could remember, Bridget had looked up to her big sister. It was more than just hand-me-downs; from the day Bridget was born, Erin naturally understood the impact a big sister could have. Even when she was in high school, the older girl always made sure she had time to dote on the younger one. When the writing became apparent on the wall, it was Erin who spent hours on the phone assisting Bridget through the trauma of divorce court.

Erin kept the binding simple for the moment by only tying Bridget’s wrists, ankles, and thighs. She wasn’t looking for more than just keeping Bridget subdued and helping her mood brighten a little. If it worked, then they could perhaps do something else. Bridget understood that her sister merely wanted her to be happy.

“Erin, am I making things worse?” Bridget finally asked her question.
“I came home and haven’t gotten to talk to my little sister because she’s been so mopey.”
“I’m sorry. I just want a complete family again,” the rower leaned back.
“So do I. Instead of being sad about God saying “No,” be happy he said “Yes” and let Erin be here,” the voice of older brother Michael interrupted them.
“Bridge, we’re both grateful you tried so hard. Neither of us loves Kristina like you do.”
“Thank you, Bridget, really.”

Bridget looked at her brother and then her sister and smiled. She had tried. She couldn’t change anything, and she knew their father wanted the family to be whole again as well. None of them had the power to change their mother, though, and that was what Bridget had missed all along. In that, she was perhaps a bit naïve. Actually, she realized, they all were imperfect!

Michael was the brains to Bridget’s brawn. While he was bigger and stronger than even their father, he was the clever one who said profound things like he had just said. Both of the older Sjaastad siblings had amazing self-control; Bridget would have slapped herself if she were in one of their shoes.

“This Thanksgiving, I want to thank God for giving me the siblings I have, even if we only have the three of us together!” Bridget exclaimed.
“That’s the spirit!” Erin hugged her, “I always miss you the most when I’m at school.”
“Don’t inflate her ego now!” Mike sat down on the recliner.
“Buzz off, Michael, you know she’s always been a precious jewel to me!”
“Yeah, she takes me window shopping in the mall, unlike you!” Bridget squeezed against Erin.
“Hold on, let me get that,” Mike stood up just as quickly when the house phone began ringing.

Bridget forgot she was tied up until she tried to cuddle up with her sister and found herself unable to move her arms. Just because there were bad things didn’t negate that there were good things. Like Erin and Michael, she simply needed a change in perspective from “half empty” to “half full.” Michael, who was a biochemistry student, liked to change the phrase to “Is the glass half empty or half full? It doesn’t matter when it contains cyanide.”

“That was Mom asking me to get Kris. It appears she wants to spend the day with us, and Mom wouldn’t say ‘No’ to her,” Michael walked into the room with his car keys.
“Oh, take me with you!” the captive bounced up.
“All right, but you’re staying tied up! Mom mentioned something about a text from some girl named Bridget and how it might have influenced Kris.”
“She did get it!” Bridget’s eyes brightened in a way that Mike both did and didn’t like.
“Just remember this is more special for Erin than for us,” he burst her bubble.
“Let’s just shut her up first.”

In the Sjaastad house, there were strict rules regarding TUGs, especially the gags. In general, the most important part was not to abandon the captive. Some ways, however, had been devised to skirt the rules even while violating the spirit of those rules. In this case, inescapably wrapping the sock in a bandana worked as a stuffed gag which could be mixed with tape. It wasn’t nice, gave Bridget something to chew upon, and kept her quiet. The bandana and the duct tape made sure it was a peaceful ride for Mike, Erin, and Bridget. Before getting into the car, Mike secured Bridget’s arms with a leather belt just below her boobs.

Erin sat in the back during the short ride to their mother's house. All of them went upon the insistence of their father: just because the marriage was over didn't mean the children shouldn't love their mother. Bridget squirmed so much that Erin finally laid down on top of her and shoved her onto the floor of the car. When they arrived, Erin went to the door so she could see her mother.

“Mmmm!” Bridget struggled and threw herself about.
“Bridgie!” a young voice interrupted her.
“Mmmm!” the captive sat up.
“Get up here!” Erin hauled her sister up onto the seat, “Behave!”
“I’m so happy!” Kristina hugged Bridget like a child who had found a lost stuffie.
“Seat belts, girls,” Mike reminded them, “It's so good to see you!”

Erin and Kristina had an awkward relationship because there were over 13 years between them, but at least they had the middle sister between them on the ride home. Bridget was the bridge between them all, in a way. She was the one who was closest to Mike and Kristina; she was the one who fought so they could all be together; she was the sibling who was unafraid to tell the harsh truths. With her here, Erin didn't feel so uneasy about talking to her little sister, but she wasn't prying like Bridget either.

“Why is she tied up?” Kristina asked after a while.
“Well, Bridge was sad because she didn't think you'd be coming over,” Erin explained.
“Are you sad, Bridgie?” the youngest one looked at the captive.
“Nmm mmm!” Bridget gave each sister a gagged kiss.
“No one can be sad when you're with us too!”
“I love all of you!” Kristina crushed Bridget in a hug.
“I love you all more as the big sister,” Erin teased and also crushed Bridget.

Kristina was glued to her sister like a magnet to a refrigerator all the way home and all the way into the house where she had lived before, to everyone else’s distress, the judge decided she had to live with her mother. Even their maternal relations were flabbergasted by this decision, but there was nothing anyone could do. The judge had an “axe to grind”, and they were stuck with the decision.

Bridget didn’t have it easy the entire way. She had to hop to the car in the cold Wisconsin air and then hop back from the car into the house! Such silly little games were what the Sjaastad siblings enjoyed most though. It was all cute and innocent for them, and none of them had even thought of looking on the internet for ideas. All they knew had been devised by their own minds or taught them by their father who had also played TUGs as a child. TUGs were the one game that all of the Sjaastad children enjoyed on a common level with each taking turns… except in these kidnapping games where one of them (a.k.a. Mike) was much stronger than the others.

“Bridgie, are you crying?” Kristina asked her sister.
“Mmm hmm,” Bridget nodded and rubbed her eyes dry on Erin’s kind shoulder.
“Bridge has had an emotionally taxing morning,” Erin said, then explained, “It’s been a tough morning.”
“Oh… I’m sorry, Bridgie,” Kristina tightened her grip and then whined, “Errinnnn, can we make cookies?”
“We may, but Bridge stays tied up. Let’s make them to thank her for her stubborn effort to bring us together today.”
“OK!”

Kristina didn’t get to do much with TUGs because she was still only 8 years old, but today she was allowed to use a bandana to blindfold Bridget. Although Bridget had started at 7, Kristina still wasn’t allowed to be tied up. She did, however, get lessons on the art of tying up others. It was interesting to watch how, despite being so young, she used so much caution to make sure that no hairs were snagged in the blindfold.

“Be back soon, Bridgie!” Kristina kissed her on the forehead and dashed to the kitchen.
“Let’s make you more comfortable, sis,” Mike said and rolled her onto her stomach.
“Mmmmph!” Bridget remained on the sofa and got put into a hogtie by her brother.

Bridget was left there while her brother went to help their father, who had spent all relaxing in the shed with his tools. Kristina and Erin were in the kitchen working on their little surprise. A bandana tied over Bridget’s nose told her that whatever was being made had a distinctive scent to it. On the couch all alone, Bridget thought about a variety of things, but she worked on a surprise for her sisters instead: escaping.

After having spent the first 10 minutes of her solitude just thinking about the day’s events, she was ready for a change of pace. A quick test of her bonds told her that escape would be easy as long as no one checked on her. She pulled the hogtie rope to bring her ankles closer to herself. She had been hogtied by Mike, so she correctly guessed that the knot would be obvious and sloppy. Tighter isn’t better when you have no technique.

A quick untying of that hogtie knot got her some freedom to sit more comfortably. A simple belt couldn’t do much when there was little else to support; it was by itself without even elbow bonds to make things more interesting and difficult. After enough pulling of the bonds and moving her arms enough, the rope loosened enough for her to slip her hands out. She pulled the blindfold off and was shocked to see her brother and father standing there smiling at her.

She quickly unknotted the ropes on her legs while her father gently removed her layers of gag. When the OTN gag came off, the smell of cinnamon filled her nostrils. Something made him want to be with her, obviously, and she squealed a little because of the tape sticking to her hair. Almost instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him for a big hug.

“I’m proud of you. For loving your little sister so much you’d fight for her,” he said softly.
“I hope I wasn’t being a brat.”
“Nooooooo! Pushy, but not a brat. Your mother and I agreed that if it meant that much to you then you would have to ask her yourself.”
“You mean you… the last week?!” her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide.
“My little rower is growing up!” he squeezed her tightly, “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“I love you so much!”

Bridget soon let go of her father and sat up. She walked past her brother and into the kitchen where her two sisters were putting the dough in the fridge. They froze when they saw Bridget, but Erin immediately smiled. After seeing that Erin was smiling, Kristina knew it was OK for Bridget to be here and also smiled. Bridget opened her arms, and Kristina ran into her sister’s hug.

“Bridgie!”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Kristi!”

Next: Janie the Biker

[AlexUSA3]

I was very happy to see that more people had voted in the poll. Whoever voted for Caleigh and Janie, I'd love if you dropped a comment just so I know who you are.

Here comes our last "American Thanksgiving" story.

Janie the Biker (f/f & m/f)

Black canvas sneakers, black socks, black ripped jeans, a black t-shirt, a black leather jacket, a braid held by a black scrunchie, and a black kerchief bandana adorned the girl who hopped on the back of the motorcycle. Off it went with the girl in black holding the pilot tightly. The motorcycle wasn't being driven by her brother or sister though.

Janie Patterson had just come back from a morning out with her father to see her sister's current boyfriend there. It was a cheap motorcycle: a stereotypical Hispanic high schooler riding a stereotypical bike. Lauren was a high school senior, now 17, and Janie was a high school sophomore, at just 14. The boyfriend was a big guy who came from a family with excess money, and while the bike was humble the sporting gear wasn't. Not only did he give Lauren her own leather jacket, but since Janie loved rides on the back as well he gave her his older jacket. At 5’7” already, she figured she would perfectly fit in it one day since she was almost as tall as her sister.

Now, the all black was supposed to be over the top. She had a competitive match in her big sister, Lauren, who had boots instead of canvas, black leggings instead of jeans, a bun instead of a braid, and a headband instead of a kerchief. In a classic display of “green mushroom disease,” Lauren also added a black bandana neckerchief.

“We’ll be out for a joyride. See you in 30,” Lauren said as they took off.
“Later!” Janie waved and smiled as they disappeared around the corner.

In Florida, even Black Friday can be ridiculously hot, and today was no exception. At a roasting 90 degrees, Janie had sweat her butt off during the 10 minute ride, but she had a wicked idea forming in her mind. Either she could stay outside like this and build up a nice pair of sweaty socks to kidnap Lauren, or she could egg Lauren into kidnapping her.

But why would she do that? If getting kidnapped was the plan, kidnapping Lauren had to be first. Then Trent would feel the need to defend the other sister and would take her down and do to her as she did to Lauren. She was such a manipulator, but she only manipulated where TUGs were concerned. While her sister was gone, she sat down on the sofa to play some video games with her brother. It didn't go so well when, in a moment of boredom, Janie divulged her plan to her brother. Perhaps it was a Freudian slip, or an intentional slip. Either way, Trent was quite controlled in his reaction.

“And if I did this, would it make you happy?” he asked her casually.
“Probably. I like the sound of the scene.”
“You see it like a snapshot of the movie of your life?”
“Our lives, Trenton. We're all in this together,” a mischievous smile appeared on her face.
“You have your fun,” he smiled and focused on the game, “You’ll get your share.”
“How about if I win, I get to kidnap her before you kidnap me, but if you win you get to take me now and her later?”

The difference between Trent and Lauren was that Trent noticed the home life. He saw how his sister was the most ignored of the oft ignored teenagers. He saw her joys and triumphs and shared them with her. It was humbling to have her in the same class as himself, but he felt instead to be the luckiest of the three to have a front row seat to the growth of a prodigy. No matter how many secrets Janie told Lauren, no one truly knew her as well as he did.

A big brother is the ultimate bully, but a big brother also takes a dive at the right time. In this case, he lost the game on purpose. He saw the look in her eyes and knew what she wanted to happen. In this scenario, he used the opportunity to decide how to bind Janie when the time came. He was bigger than his sisters but much gentler than either of them.

The sound of the motorcycle approaching signaled the end of the game. Janie jumped up and went to grab the things she needed, which was mostly her sister’s rolling desk chair and a bunch of duct tape rolls in grey, black, and white. The excitement showed on her face, and Trent couldn't resist matching her.

Lauren didn't know she was walking into a setup. Green mushroom disease had some serious side effects and consequences that the medical literature was yet to document, and she was about to discover some of those. A kiss goodbye ended the ride, and she made her way to the house with sweat pouring off her body and completely unaware of the future home of her socks.

“Hey, twips,” Lauren stepped into the house and shut the door behind.
“Hey, sis,” Janie walked over, “Sorry, you tried, but I’m the badder biker girl.”
“What makes you think you're badder than me, hmm?” the older sister laughed at her.
“Because I’m the one who is dirty enough to slew foot kidnap her sister.”
“Whoa!” Lauren’s legs flew out from under her, and the big girl fell toward the floor.
“Let's rumble!” the young teen laughed.

White duct tape wrapped up Lauren’s wrists, and Janie continued wrapping it all the way up her sister's arms. It was full coverage, and the youngster did the same with the grey tape on her sister's legs. Lauren tried to fight, but she had been overpowered by her little sister. Janie pulled Lauren off the floor and sat her in the chair.

“Janie, you jealous little b-tch, I’ll get back for this!” Lauren snarled.
“The only one of those,” Janie sat down and began untying her shoelaces, “Is you!”
“I’ll bring you down and do twice as bad to you! NNNNGGGGHHH!” the captive struggled in her rope prison.
“Keep making a jerk of yourself! See what that’ll do,” the captor removed her own socks.
“You're going to put those in my mouth? I’ll kill you! UNG!”
“It's a kidnapping game, and you're a sore loser! Give it to her, Janie!” Trent cheered.
“Enjoy!” Janie smugly rammed the filthy socks deep into her sister's mouth.

Janie took her sister's neckerchief and tied it as a cleave gag before also wrapping six layers of black tape around her face. Lauren kept howling and shrieking into the gag but only unintelligibly. White tape wrapped below and above her breasts, and grey wrapped around her waist and arms to crush Lauren against the chair. For her sharp tongue, Janie also pushed one of her shoes against Lauren’s face and secured it with more black duct tape.

“Ngggg!” Lauren stomped her feet on the floor.
“Awwww, sis, are you embarrassed to have been kidnapped by little ol’ me?”
“Nmm mmm mmmm!” the captive continued her gagged invective against Janie.
“Does the bad-ss biker chick want a little ride?” Janie swore shamelessly and kissed her sister.
“Sis! Watch the language!” Trent reprimanded her while Lauren disapproved in grunt.
“Whatever! Let's roll!”

Janie chose the simple humiliation of rolling her sister all over the first floor of their home and the screen enclosure. Partway through the first lap, Lauren began dragging her feet on the ground, so Janie turned the situation around from pushing to pulling. It was still accompanied by angry sounds.

Lauren, at this point of life, only was OK with being tied up by her brother, and she hated being kidnapped like this. Being forced to taste and smell her sister's feet was the worst part of it, but it was just desserts truly as it was her favorite way to torture her sister at this phase. Getting it all back at the hands of the prodigious girl was more infuriating.

When the second lap finished, Janie decided to stop and tickle her sister. Nothing was more humiliating for a big tough biker than to be tickled by someone they consider to be weaker than they are, right? At least, it was true for Lauren the biker. On the other hand, Janie the biker had forgotten about the big problem looming behind her.

“Ha ha ha!” Lauren started cackling, but then a “GRMM!” ended it.
“Forget about me, Jane?” Trenton taunted her while she squirmed in his arms.

A big tall softball player was helpless against a bigger and taller basketball player. It was especially true when that basketball player was their big brother. The element of surprise had returned because she had been so focused on her sister, and white ropes bound her arms in three places, her legs in three, and her thighs in three. A series of chest and waist ropes also pinned her, and it all happened to her in her own rolling desk chair; ropes from her ankles and wrists ran to the center post of the chair.

It was only fitting for Janie to be gagged with Lauren’s socks, a black bandana, and a piece of microfoam tape. Black duct tape pinned her other shoe to her own nose. While Trent felt the sock gag was warranted on account of her language, he resisted using Lauren’s shoe because the older sister had been the antagonist while the other was simply playing a game with her hero.

Janie and Lauren were next electrically taped at their big toes. With that, they could not move their toes, and now they were helpless against being tickled. Angry screams filled the air from being so tightly gagged, and Trent taped her ankles and wrists to the center post of the chair. It was a fun moment for both of the younger siblings.

“Mmm ngggg ummm!” growled Lauren.
“How about I make this more interesting than just watching you two?” Trent held up the dreaded electric toothbrush.
“Mmmm!” Janie playfully tried to wheel away, “Nooooooo.”
“Uth oh mm ee um ummmm!” Lauren was a bit frustrated at the moment.
“I’m sorry, Lauren, but here it comes!” the friendly voice of Trenton Patterson made Janie smile.
“NNNNNNN!” the angry captive felt the brush begin spinning against her feet.

Trenton was even more sinister than either girl realized. With one toothbrush and a hairbrush at his disposal, he could alternate between the two indefinitely. Tickle one until she’s tired; tickle the other; go back to the first; repeat. Lauren deserved to get it worse, though, so he started with her. There were two biker chicks before him: one was cute and the other was a punk.

In discussions concerning the sisters, Trent often found himself left out. Yet he truly adored both of them and often put his own neck out for them in order to ensure that neither ever got an undue punishment for any reason. He was indescribably proud of how his little sister was growing up; at first he was jealous and embarrassed by having her in his classes.

Lauren cackled while at the same time thrashing and yelling into her gag. Beads of sweat poured down her face, and she breathed heavily into Janie’s shoe. Just when she was getting ready to give an ear piercing shriek, she finally turned and saw the happiness on her little sister’s face. A turn to the other side between bursts of laughter showed a similarly happy brother. Of course the oldest Patterson siblings felt like a jerk. She was used to being the one scheming against Janie, and she was having to eat a jumbo slice of humble pie right now. She got a moment to think about her behavior when Trenton switched to tickling Janie with the brush.

Janie was giggling as a person could only when they were with their favorite people. She was still young enough that she wasn’t bothered by her sister’s outburst, and the brother just ignored it and focused on making his little sister happy. It wasn’t even the usual forced laughter; it was forced giggling. It didn’t change Lauren’s desire to escape though. The elder of the biker girls kicked roughly against the tape and found it held firm.

“Hahahahahaaaaa!” Janie was bursting with laughter from the toothbrush.
“I’ll make it worse yet for both of you!”

That’s when an idea struck Lauren. She was going to be as annoying as possible. Perhaps Janie would escape or even get released and join in on it, but she was going to make it very satisfying for them to put her through the wringer. Taking a glance at Janie’s arms showed that the younger girl was working on her bonds as best as she could. Lauren took a deep breath and began.

“EH EE OH!” she cried out and got an unforgettable whiff of Janie’s feet.
“Calm down! I’ll get back to you soon!”
“Nnn nn nn!” Lauren began wheeling the chair away from the kitchen.
“Now, look, Lauren, get back here!” Trent jumped up and grabbed her.
“Hee hee!” Janie giggled some more at her sister’s defiance.
“GRRRRRR!”

Trent got back down on the floor and resumed tickling Janie. Again, the girl burst into fits of a mixed giggle and forced laughter. It was difficult to discern because some part of it was genuine, but Lauren this time began silently wheeling herself away. She noticed a rope slip off of Janie’s arms because the leather jacket, despite being soft, still had a smooth exterior. The tape stuck, but the rope didn’t. Lauren got around the corner and push-kicked the chair about until she was into the guest room. She began moving faster and sweating more profusely, and then she heard it just as she broke her legs free from the post.

“Where’d you go now?!”

Lauren push-kicked herself into the guest bathroom, also the pool bath, and shut and locked the door. Trenton heard this and came in pursuit of her. After trying the door, he thought he’d take the easy route and silently walked away. Lauren, not taking chances, took a deep breath, stood up with the chair, and locked the pool door and bolted it. Of course, there was the key to the bathroom, and there were these other bonds that would take hours of labor or a knife to break. The only reason the one broke was because of the tape.

Janie took advantage and began squirming in her leather bondage and eventually slipped all of the ropes off her arms while Trent ignored her in his pursuit of Lauren. He went out to find the locked pool door and had to walk back to his older sister, making the lap in the other direction. While he did this, Janie untied herself, got the tape off her toes, and undid her layers of smelly and foul gag. Lauren’s feet tasted so awful. By the time Trenton had returned with Lauren, she was already quietly putting the rope back into perfectly neat coils.

“Well, look at you!” Trenton wheeled Lauren into the room while the captive feigned anger.
“It was the leather that did it!” smiled the humble teenager.
“I don’t understand; next time I’ll have to use the brown rope on you!”
“I guess,” Janie shrugged.

The youngster adjusted all of her clothes while Trent checked Lauren’s bonds. She then kept her plan of cleaning up all of the mess that came from her portion of the bondage. An inspection of Lauren revealed that she had exploited the only true weakness. Janie put the rope into the bag and turned to her sister; she sat on the bigger girl’s lap and hugged her.

“I,” Janie gave her a sisterly kiss on the check, “Have to help Trent keep you down, hmm?”
“GRRRRR!” the captive growled, and the younger Janie didn’t see the mischief in her eyes.
“Trent, just torture her!” the youngster gave up and put a rubber band on her sister’s wrist.
“My pleasure!” Trenton turned on the toothbrush, “Enjoy this, sis!”
“Nooooo! HA! GAHA HAAAA!”
“I’ll give you something of my own!” Janie snapped the rubber band.
“YOW!”

Lauren cackled until it hurt. The tickling felt so deserved after her earlier outburst and latter acts of mischief. She squealed even in her quest to resist the toothbrush, but, just as the toothbrush was dying, Janie snapped the rubber band again, and Lauren shrieked loudly. Janie resumed the tickle torture by attacking Lauren’s belly and ribs; her sister was receiving a disgusting taste of her feet.

The sweat poured off Lauren’s body, and the leather only made the situation sweatier. Howls of brutal forced laughter filled the air, and all of them forgot all cares of life. With more and more of the torture, Lauren’s laughter became less of a laugh and more of a groan. Interspersed were kisses from Janie, hairbrush tickles of her feet from either sibling, and snaps of the rubber from Trent.

“Thanks for the setup, girls,” Trent said in between bouts of his own laughter.
“What setup?!” Janie stood up for another kiss.
“Well, you set her up knowing I would capture you, and she set us up for this.”
“She did?” Janie looked at Lauren and smiled, “It’s all been an act to get us to torture her.”
“Heh heh,” Lauren’s eyes sparkled between bouts of torture, and Janie unpeeled the shoe.
“You liked that shoe, didn’t you?” Janie asked, and Lauren shrugged because it was humiliating.
“Get going! Keep tickling her!”
“NOOOO!”

Lauren thrashed about so much that her bandana had already fallen off her head and onto the floor behind her, but sustaining the torture like this was making her bun fall apart as well. Janie removing the shoe was a kind act that allowed her to get more fresh air into her nostrils and also diminished the taste of the socks in her mouth.

The occasional rubber band snap made her shriek in pain, but Janie’s continued torment of her feet and ribs were the principal sources of her suffering. Tears poured down her cheeks, and now her hair was almost completely out. Janie and Trent were getting tired as well, and Janie was also very sweaty from her own imprisonment and torment.

“NNNNNN!” Lauren couldn’t do anything but groan in pain anymore.
“Have you had enough?” Janie asked her.
“Mmm,” she weakly nodded.
“All right,” Janie took a clean brown bandana and wiped the sweat off her face, “I’m the cuter biker girl though.”
“Huh?! Noooo!”
“Either you admit I am and get a kiss and release, or I will tickle you some more!”
“Hii, oo’re uh uhuh eyher hih.”

Janie gave the promised kiss, grabbed a knife, and began freeing Lauren’s arms. Trent grabbed another knife and took his sister’s legs and toes. Lauren slowly came out of the tape bondage, but she continued to sit in the chair. Janie carefully put her sister’s hair into a comparable braid and put the headband back on Lauren’s head. Finally, after nearly 10 minutes of panting, resting, and drinking water, Lauren stood up.

Then, the Patterson children shared a hug to conclude their Black Friday TUG adventure.

Next: Bluelight Special Part 1

[Lucky Lottie]

Yau! Always love a good tickling story

[AlexUSA3]

Bluelight Special: Part 1 (Ff/f)

Let me tell you the story of how I discovered my forever friends, or actually how I knew they were my forever friends! I was 17 when this happened, just a high school senior. It's time for Christmas stories, and this all happened at Christmas time. Sorry for a bit of a darker tale, but I promise part 2 will be all fun and games!

I’m Sarah Nichole Petersen, but back then I was still a Blakely, my birth name. Even choosing to be called Nichole instead of Sarah was rebellion, you see. At home I was Sarah until I was 9, and then I demanded to be called Nichole because I used it with all of my friends. Demanding wasn't so good, but it was the first mature decision I, to that point of my life, had made. I had to this point of my life been a girl of the softer kind, the kind that complained about as often as the sun stood still but inwardly was suffering the 44 stabbings that took Julius Caesar from this life.

I never understood how a girl whose father was a Blakely and whose mother was an O’Brien had dark brown curly hair. I never got an answer from my father except an insult like “because you're scum like your sister.” My mother finally provided an answer in her own grandmother, whom I never met, being Portuguese. But asking my father got me the usual response: a beating.

Eggnog and whiskey, how stereotypically Irish of the douche. Friday and/or Saturday was guaranteed alcohol consumption by him, and with it usually a guaranteed beating. Today, I was punished merely because I was trying to survive. I simply walked by him, because I had told Joy I would spend the day with her, and that was enough to spark him. I always fought back despite knowing the results; I hate him to this day.

What had happened this time was unacceptable. Joy was up the stairs waiting on her friend who was in the basement for Saturday stuff related to Christmas. I don’t even remember why I happened to be down there when I usually avoid those monsters like the plague. After yet another spanking, fondling, and beating, as usual, my brothers laughed at me, and one of them even used profanity. I said something profane back, and yet another blood curdling promise to ruin me later came from my father. With terror in my eyes, I dashed up the stairs. Misogynistic scum.

Claire was bad then, truly. Not knowing better, when she walked out of the house with only the clothes on her back, I didn't realize my sister was part of a real gang. She ended up in all sorts of trouble such as getting arrested, having a baby at just 18, and already being married twice before 22. After that day, I was treated like complete garbage, and I didn't get new clothes besides hand me downs or things others outside my home bought for me until I was in college.

Today I wore a multi-colored outfit. It had to feel special somehow, right? Navy blue sweats, an icy blue bandana headband, and a white long-sleeve t-shirt kept the warmth in me. What little warmth I had.

“J-j-joy, I’m r-r-ready to go,” I wiped the tears away.
“Are you OK?” Joy’s eyes were fearful, “What was that screaming?!”
“Yeah, j-j-just a fight,” I gulped having never had a friend come so close to this before.
“Do you… always fight with your dad like that?” she helped me put on my icy blue hoodie.
“Uh… oh, no!” I lied while internally wincing at the pain, “You just came at a bad time.”
“C-can we… can we… we need to talk.”

Joy’s face showed deep distress, and she glanced at the Christmas tree. I knew then that she’d seen it; there were, at best, two presents for me under the tree. Mom couldn’t do more than that, but since she’d sobered up she’d been the only ally I had here. It was terrible for both of us, two battered and scared girls. Since I was 17, Claire was only 24, and Mom was only 43. Young to have this situation, and we were both convinced that if we tried anything to leave that one of the freaks would kill us. The result was that my Mom told me she would secretly give me what little else she had slipped past my father; at least she was able to find ways to avoid getting abused so long as she treaded carefully.

“There’s so much under that tree… is there really only one present for you?” Joy asked me when I shut the car door.
“Oh, that, well…,” I concocted a new lie on the fly, “I once opened my presents early is all.”
“Uhhhhhhhh,” Joy put the car in gear and backed out of the driveway, “I don’t buy that.”
“You’re making things out to be bad or something,” now I was staring out the window.
“Maybe because I think they’re bad or something.”
“Why,” I spun in fury, “don’t you mind your own f-cking business?!”

Joy quietly shifted in her seat and said nothing more, and I felt myself choking back tears. What would happen to me if she found out? I saw in the mirror the kind eyes of the pink Cool Girl focused on the road and occasionally turning to look at me. Her pink bandana headband, purple turtleneck, and pink leggings all clung to her body and accentuated her gorgeous form. OK, so she was 5 or 10 pounds overweight, but she’s the sweetest dumpling I ever met so I don’t care.

“Nichole, would you like to talk to Mom? She was a professional.”
“Joy, let me be for now; we’ll talk later,” I pushed her away as the car stopped.
“I won’t be able to enjoy your company until you do something,” she was so stubborn!
“I’m going to Jenny’s,” I got out of the car and began walking down the driveway.
“Get back here!” she ran in front of me, and her mother saw me shove her down.
“What’ll it be?!” I taunted her and stood over her where she lay on the frozen ground.
“I made you a cup of hot chocolate already,” Mrs. Fredericks intervened.

I knew right then that the secret was finished. Jenny’s mom already knew and had suggested I talk to Mrs. Fredericks, and now I was face to face with the same woman, Joy’s mom. I laughed because stress makes you laugh at the most insane things. After 6 years of being pulverized, she had to know since Joy’s mom and Jenny’s mom, while not the best of friends, shared a quilting club.

“Get up,” I held a hand out to Joy, “I put you down and will pick you up too.”
“Thank you,” she said, and I wouldn’t let go of her hand, “Please, Mrs. Fredericks, don’t do it.”
“I’m supposed to do it though,” she followed us up the steps and into the house.
“I won’t cooperate though; I refuse,” I ignored her calmly rolling up my shirt as if I didn’t notice.
“Joy, Nichole and I want to talk; go bother Zoe.”
“Mom,” Joy was shaken but confident, “I know you’ll help her.”

Once Joy had bounded up the stairs, I was led to the craft room where Mrs. Fredericks asked me to remove my hoodie. I did that without question, but then I was asked to remove my shirt. At that, I put my foot down and thought I had outsmarted her. Mrs. Fredericks, however, still had an ace up her sleeve.

“If you don’t lift your shirt, the only way I can help you any more is by calling CPS.”
“Fine,” I took off my shirt and for the first time was seen without a shirt by anyone except Jenny.
“Nichole, what happened?!” Joy interrupted us.
“What are you doing here?” her mother became visibly upset.
“Zoe was on the phone with grandma. Nichole, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re old enough to handle the truth,” I knew it was coming.
“What are you talking about?!” tears welled up in Joy’s eyes.
“Joy, Nichole’s father beats her.”
“Where did you get that?! No one beats me!” I tried lying, but I realized Joy knew from before.

Joy hugged me in a special way. I will never forget how she hugged me and promised to do all she could to help me and how she would never tell a soul, not even Jenny. I saw how strongly affected Joy was by this, and I knew that both meant it. I had a lifeline, and Mrs. Fredericks said I was welcome to knock on their door at any hour and that she was going shopping and not to leave their house until she was back. To this end, she ordered Zoe to get off of the phone.

“Nichole, are you OK?” Zoe asked me.
“Yes, I’m OK. I’m battered, not cancerous,” I finally spoke truthfully.
“Joy, let’s make it easy to watch this girl. We’re going to tie her up for a nap in my bed, OK?”
“Hasn’t she been through enough for one day?” Joy sided against Zoe.
“Actually,” I took Zoe’s side, “As long as you don’t let your mom see me tied, it sounds good.”
“Come on,” Zoe offered me her hand, “I’ll be gentle and use that white rope you love so much.”

While I loved Jenny as though she were my own flesh and blood, I felt just as safe here in the Fredericks home. Up the stairs we went to Zoe’s bedroom, and she gently and effectively tied my crossed wrists behind my back. I sat down on the bed, and she similarly bound my ankles and my knees. A belt was secured below my breasts, and a knotted white handkerchief gagged me.

I tried to move as a test of the bonds and found them to be good, and my speech was adequately muffled. Zoe took a few pictures of me before she blindfolded me by pushing my headband over my eyes. Into darkness I went, and I was rolled onto my stomach and felt the bed covers come over me. It didn’t truly feel special, though, until I felt Joy and Zoe each give me a kiss on the forehead.

I cried myself to sleep.

I didn’t know how long I slept, but I know I woke up to Joy or Zoe squishing into the bed beside me. The only way I knew for sure was when Joy nuzzled against me, and I felt her bandana rub me a little. It mustn't have been a long nap because Joy was also trying to nap but with me. I turned around to face her even if I couldn't see her and squished up against her as closely as I could.

Rope does something amazing to me and to many other people I know: it relaxes us. Hormones are released from the pressure of the rope against the skin, and even in a simple binding we feel at least a little of it. We stay lucid and even are unable to forget our problems, but we can think more clearly and lose a lot of the worry that would otherwise drive us to tears, hysteria, anger, or a whole host of unhealthy reactions. Being gagged helps us in that we can’t talk about feelings or anything else either. The blindfold plunges us into darkness that some find closes them in, but for some of us it helps us more easily blot out the images that flash before us and torment us.

“Nichole, Mom’s on her way home. Do you want to get out?”
“Mmm hmm.”

I nodded knowing we were supposed to be having fun before going to Jenny’s for dinner, and I had ruined that with my startling revelation. Instead, I was tied up, gagged, and blindfolded for a nap before lunchtime! Somehow, it had all been worth it though; for the first time since Claire had left my life seemingly for good, I felt like there was a genuine spring of hope. Joy untied me slowly, and we talked around that while knowing our conversation was really about it. It would be still another 17 months before anyone besides the Fredericks girls and their mother knew what was happening to me and my mother.

“Hey, Nichole, I got you something,” Mrs. Fredericks put a bag on the table.
“Me? You didn't have to,” I shrank back behind Zoe.
“No, no, go get it,” Zoe pushed me in front of her.
“Ummm… OK,” I trembled so much that Joy took my hand and led me over.
“Go on, Nichole. Trust me,’
“All right,” I took a deep breath.

I was only so scared because of the thought of whatever it may be and how it would potentially make my home life worse. Looking into the bag, I was surprised to see an iPhone box in the bag. With a gasp, I pulled it out and opened the box before looking at Mrs. Fredericks with a dropped jaw.

“Now you can keep in contact with your friends and trusted loved ones… and not worry about your father finding out.”
“But but this isn't necessary!” I stumbled to Mrs. Fredericks just like my speech did.
“I’m helping you in the only way I can; you can text people without the information showing on your father's billing statement. It's about keeping you safe.”
“You don't need to do it though! I know I can…,” when I turned I saw Joy and Zoe.
“Would you rather watch your world disappear in a courtroom?” Zoe asked me.
“Well,” I turned back to the maternal figure and smiled warmly, “Thank you, Mrs. Fredericks.”

There was hope for me. Someone cared about what was happening to me. I felt like life wasn't about circling the drain until someone murdered me. If the Fredericks’s did this much for me, how much more did my beloved Jenny love me?

In the next part, a joyous surprise, time with Jenny, and a Joy-ous surprise. And don't forget the TUGs!

Next: Bluelight Special Part 2

[AlexUSA3]

Bluelight Special: Part 2 (f/f -> f/fff)

I continued to stare at the phone like an absolute idiot despite being nothing of the kind. I had no idea what to do, especially when I compared it to my old phone, a flip phone from which I had to move things to Joy or Jenny’s computer in order to be able to upload them to Facebook. What I didn’t realize was that this was a small sacrifice, merely adding a cell phone to their monthly bill, as opposed to what I thought they had done which was buy a phone outright.

“Come on, Nichole, get your coat so we can go to Jenny’s,” Joy put a hand on my shoulder.
“I…,” I felt so vulnerable; I had always feigned that my life was happy to these three, “OK.”
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Fredericks looked at me, “Is something still bothering you?”
“I’m… I’m just…,” I stumbled over my words quite professionally, “Am in shock.”
“Let me help you a little,” Zoe teased me by turning on the phone, “I’ll help you set this up.”
“All right… it’ll only take a few minutes, right?”

I followed Zoe’s instructions exactly, especially the part about making my passwords be based on things that my family couldn’t guess no matter how hard they tried. She advised me to never use my home internet on the new phone because my father could see it in the device information. Such basic common sense concepts had never been a thought to me. How could Zoe willingly do this for her little sister’s friend? It meant Joy had a very loving and protective big sister!

Mrs. Fredericks also sent us away with a tray of cookies that she sternly warned us to share with Jenny. Once the phone was set up, Joy and I walked back out to the car in a strange but positive silence. I actually smiled when we sat down in the car. I smiled! How much more comfortable I felt now with these wonderful people around me! I didn’t play with the phone too much on the way and instead talked with my friend. I began making plans for Joy to spend the night as my bound and gagged stuffie.

How do I describe Jenny? We go back to kindergarten. I arrived just as she was dealing with the greatest struggle of her young life, the death of her big brother. She was there for me even when I didn’t tell her why I needed her, like the many times I ran and hid at her house after a beating from my father. I was there so much that her parents put a second bed in her room. When loved ones passed, we were there for each other. At exam time, we were study buddies. Whenever one of us needed help, I was there in a heartbeat.

I was troublesome to Jenny and Joy, though, especially the former. They were born and raised in religious households; Jenny took it more seriously than anyone else I knew or in her own massive family of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. But I was a stout atheist back at this time. Her response was to pray for my conversion and continue to be my friend although she never admitted the former until after, well, my conversion!

“Sis!” Jenny practically jumped at me when Joy and I came in.
“Whoa! Calm down!” I returned the hug and got a big kiss on the cheek.
“Come with me,” she took me by the arm, “We still have an hour before dinner.”
“What's the rush? Let us put our bags down in your room first.”
“We're going in there anyway! Just come on!”
“Let's go,” Joy calmly took the lead.

The small Danish girl sprang ahead of us, and her camouflage kerchief bandana flew from her motions. A pink t-shirt and camouflage leggings were accompanied by the familiar pink running sneakers and matching crew socks. Once we were in her cozy and welcoming bedroom, also my bedroom in a way, she shut the door behind us. It was about 10 minutes before her parents were due to come home from a Christmas shopping trip. Joy’s eye caught something in the corner, but I didn't look.

“Look!” she proudly opened the closet door.
“Mmmm!” there was Casey, on the floor in a warm and cozy rope game!
“You left her crutches in the corner like a fool,” Joy rebuked the little one.
“Don't pick on her,” I immediately took a playful defense, “just because she's a cute, short, and mischievous Gangsta Princess!”
“Mmmm!” the humble captive tried to squirm away.
“Now, now, it's been two hours, so you should come out!” Jenny took a firm grip of the captive, “Behave, Gangsta Friend!”

Casey wasn't just in a secure boxtie; she had been wrapped in a blanket that had been roped shut as well. From the sound, multiple layers had gagged her, and she was red with sweat in a way that only arose from intense tickling. The Friend wasn't nearly as dependent on the color black as she used to be, and in fact she had mustard sweatpants and a burgundy sweatshirt, both emblazoned with the logo of the University of Minnesota, and her kerchief bandana was a nearly perfect match of burgundy. The little white paisley patterns on the bandana were the only bright color on her.

As it turned out from the photos and videos Jenny showed us but had withheld to not reveal her actions, Casey had been tied up since sometime shortly after lunch… or about 4 hours. I always thought Casey was interesting to watch in captivity, but my opinion solidified after her illness. I watched and teased Casey about her careful, deliberate motions and her incessant stream of calm gag talk threats and demands.

“En ah eh ou, ah’ll ip hie ou o our eh an hichle ou unhil ou hry,” the girl promised hours ago.
“Now who’s being the adorable spunky rope-loving big-hearted Gangsta, hmm?” teased Jenny.
“Ah’m hellin ou,” the captive tried to appear intimidating, “ah’ll eh hou hack!”
“Oh my, Casey,” Jenny squeaked, “Are you threatening me?!”
“Ah am!” the defiance continued, “An ah’ll ehen hag ou ith our irhy thockth!”
“Ooooh! Warning shots fired!” I laughed at that, and the rest of the video was similar.

We watched it and laughed while Casey struggled on the bed in relative silence compared to her earlier spunk. After so many hours of captivity, Casey was a bit broken down now and was, to my surprise, completely submissive. She needed something to bring back that competitive spark that she had in the video. I didn’t know what though.

Such was an odd thing about people when they were tied up. Some started with a massive fight that ended in them purring like a kitten; others fought until the ropes were off; some were cool and collected; and others got restless with time. Of my four generalizations, Casey apparently was of the first type. I knew where the rest of us lay. Such traits rarely showed outside of solo interactions.

“Let Joy help her. I have some things to show you,” I said, and Joy blushed a little.
“What is it? Let's see!” my friend sprang behind me.
“Look!” I showed her the phone and hid the truth, “Since my folks only let me have a flip phone, Mrs. Fredericks gave me this!”
“Sweet! That’s so nice of her! You can do so much more with that,” how brightly she smiled!
“She is so nice!” how little Jenny knew, “She even sent us cookies!”
“Oh, Joy, thank your mother for us!”
“Thank her yourself! You can now!” the Gangsta Girl called back to us from the other room.

I put the cookies on the counter and slowly walked back to Jenny’s room with her. When we got there, we saw Joy and Casey casually talking. The latter was still tied up but no longer under the blanket or gagged. It was then I realized that Jenny never told either of us that Casey was going to be here! So trustworthy were the Kristensen’s that this was the only house where Casey’s own father, a police officer, felt safe letting his daughter stay overnight. There were these little ways in which our lives intertwined despite feeling so different, and we all had a place we could call our home away from home.

“Oh, by the way, you had mail sent here?” Jenny turned and asked me.
“Yeah, I do that sometimes just because my father forgets to give it to me.”

My father forgets… on purpose. My brothers regularly steal my mail and more than once stole the money from a birthday card. That resulted in a rare occasion of them getting walloped. Of course, they did it again; I kicked their shins; I got tied up and spanked. Same old, same old. It never got different there, but today it got very different at the Kristensen house when I saw the return address on the envelope.

“Oh my God!” I ripped the letter open frantically and quickly scanned it, “YES YES YES!!!!”
“What is so exciting?!” Jenny watched me jumping up and down.
“I got into Minnesota Tech! And they’re giving me a Hale Scholarship!”
“What?! Eee! Nichole!” she started excitedly jumping too.
“Wow,” Joy sat down on the bed, “I only got the standard academic scholarship.”
“Be happy for her sake,” Casey then said within my earshot.

I stopped bouncing and turned to Joy. A smile was on her face, but I could tell she was also very, very conflicted. Part of her was jealous, yet more was happy because she knew this was my only chance to escape. After looking at me long enough, I saw a twinkle of joy appear over her face, and a tear rolled down her cheek at the thought of my suffering. She stood up and responded in the way I best understood: a hug. Joy, a master of the concept of love languages, found herself among two huggers and the somewhat random me.

Now I walked over to the Gangsta Friend and admired her outfit and beamed with pride that she had ascended from a full handicap to already having been accepted to attend the University of Minnesota. She had a dream, and she was going to live it. And now I was going to live mine too. In a sudden spark of demonic possession or something of the kind, I playfully rolled the girl over and gave her a swat on the butt.

“Hey! What on earth was that?!” she said in shock before bursting into laughter.
“Ummm,” I struggled to find an excuse but found my poise, “Random. Just random. You seemed to have lost your verve from being tied up for so long.”
“Well, it was a good surprise! Don’t do it again any time soon.”
“I won’t,” I smiled and began untying her arms.
“Too bad we’re not at my place. My folks know I play these games with you.”
“They sure didn’t before! What changed?!” Jenny seemed surprised.

Casey sheepishly explained how her mother accidentally saw a photo on her phone; they weren’t against the games as long as they remained clean, especially since the games were Casey’s own idea back in the founding days of the Club. What trust! Just as she finished her story, Jenny saw her parents pull into the driveway, so we quickly put the rope toys away and turned on the video games in order to look like normal teenagers instead of the TUGsters we were.

Another surprise awaited me a little later. We ate dinner with Jenny’s parents around 5 and went back to playing the games after Casey and Joy volunteered to wash all the dishes, but Jenny went to the laundry area to retrieve some things she had made that morning. She so consistently used her talents to love others.

Knowing my love of the color, Jenny had made a blue tie-dye bandana and matching t-shirt for me. From plain white to a work of art. Simple gestures like these were why I loved her, and I couldn't resist trying them on. I pulled my icy blue headband down to my neck and put the new tie-dye bandana on as a headband knowing it would look amazing with my current outfit. Over my t-shirt went the new one; I was always cold anyway. I was a Gangsta Queen who loved blue, and now I was even bluer. It took a lot of love for a blue colorblind girl to do this for me. We’ll later recount a story about a funny thing that happened on account of her tritanopia.

“Bluelight special, aisle 6,” Joy teased me.
“Like we don't hear that enough at the pharmacy,” I fired back since we worked at the same store.
“You are special!” Jenny naïvely jumped on it though, “So pretty!”
“Well,” I smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, “Thanks. You’re always amazing!”
Casey also contributed, “No one rocks blue like this girl. She’s a cold Gangsta, and it shows!”
“Yes, and Case, we owe these two girls for all they’ve done for us today,” I winked at her while continuing to embrace Jenny and with Joy not looking at us.
“Oh, we do,” she winked back, and I knew the conspiracy had begun.

Video games were a consistent pattern at Jenny’s. She liked the Mario games that were for the family and anything related to automobiles, so Mario Kart was always a favorite for when party games were needed. We could subtly have a little interior warfare with kidnapping the losers being the goal without her parents ever knowing. As far as they were concerned, we were just four ordinary teenage girls having fun together; fun just happened to include TUGs.

It’s so easy to curbstomp Jenny at a video game. I blame it on the colorblindness when talking out loud, but I know that’s untrue because she is so good at more standard racing games that it cannot be the case. Her mechanical mind just cannot process the comical Mario-verse, and as a result she gets, well, curbstomped! I exaggerate a little, but if we played 100 rounds she would have closer to 10 wins instead of 25.

Because of this, our little video game marathon, complete with a score sheet, in the bedroom so that Jenny’s dad could watch college football, saw Casey and I subtly and skillfully gang up on dear Joy. The Gangsta Girl never knew what hit her. Taking turns to launch attacks on the poor thing ensured that she didn’t catch on to our ways and finished well below one of us at each and every stage. I kept a watchful eye on Jenny, but with the game on the hardest difficulty setting I rarely had to do anything to her.

“You’re ganging up on us!” whined the Gangsta Princess in a typical manner.
“Nonsense, but I did promise to get you back,” Casey said truthfully since only Joy suffered so.
“Oh, sure, now you’re coming at me instead of trying to win like me.”
“No need to be paranoid,” I defended Casey, “Sheesh, Sis, you whine too much.”
“Are we a Club or a Gang? Because you three are jabbering like it’s the latter,” Joy took advantage of our verbal spat to motor away.
“Well, we’re the Cool Girls’ Club, but all of us have a Gangsta nickname,” observed our founder.
“I’ll just take that win, thank you,” Joy smiled broadly; now I was quite determined to kidnap her before she got into her pajamas.

During a break in the festivities, I couldn’t resist going to the bathroom and taking a selfie during a much needed break. Had I really given Casey that little swat earlier? Was it a dirty swat? Was it a playful swat? Was this some strange manifestation of my own father tying me up (albeit in a pathetic manner just to hold me down) and spanking me? Was I really posing for a selfie with a smartphone of my own? Was it all real, or was I going to wake up in my own bed and discover it was all merely a phantasm? Beyond one door were my friends in Jenny’s bedroom, and beyond the other lay Jenny’s parents who loved me as if I were their own daughter.

In a strange moment, I took off the shirt and bandana that Jenny had made for me and started to cry like a little girl lost in the mall. Mrs. Kristensen heard me and gently knocked from the other side of the bathroom. Without any fears, I opened the door and followed her into her bedroom. I was a pathetic sight, a pariah to my own flesh and blood. I was the scapegoat of my sister’s sins, and that was the first time in my life I thought God was real. Clutching Jenny’s handiwork in my hands like the aforementioned little girl clutches her doll, I poured out my heart on the events of the day and how deeply affected I was by all of it.

“Now, don’t keep them waiting. Put those back on. Your sister put so much effort into making it all for you. You try to sneak over here on Christmas Eve because we’ll have a surprise for you.”
“OK,” I finished drying my tears, “May I call you Mom and Dad?”
“Of course you may since you’re like a sister to Jenny and a daughter to us!”
“I love you so much!” I grasped her tightly and already knew what that surprise would be.

She called Jenny “my sister” to my face like that! Even Mr. and Mrs. Kristensen loved me like their own flesh and blood! Even if I wasn’t loved by my biological father and brothers, I had… I had someplace where I was loved like their own. Even if I was another girl, I brought joy even to Jenny’s parents in the unending grief of their son’s death. When I was here, they felt the thrill of having two children in their house once again.

I pulled the shirt back over my white one, adjusted the icy blue bandana that still flopped around my neck, and put my beautiful new bandana back on my head, this time as a kerchief. I had one important task to do. Once I was back in the room, I walked over and gave my sister a kiss; now I really could call her my sister if I could call her parents “Mom and Dad”! Immediately, Jenny noticed my bloodshot eyes, and she knew I must have been emotional about things. Thankfully, only when I was ready did Jenny know of it as anything besides me being perpetually moody.

“Nichole, take the beanbag chair,” my dear Gangsta Friend stumbled out of it, and I knew she knew the truth without anyone telling her.
“Thanks, but Jenny deserves it more,” I pointed to her, “For making me the cutest Cool Girl.”
“I sit in it all the time. You take it,” Jenny motioned to me, “Do it because you love me.”
“Or,” Joy grabbed me and forced me down into it, “I can just do that since I’m the brute here.”
“All right, but just know what revenge is like. Come on, Casey, let’s just play this normal.”
“We’ll give them what they owe soon,” Casey pulled a quilt over her increasingly useless legs.

It was sad knowing that tonight was supposed to see the temperature plunge down to nearly 0 degrees Fahrenheit and that the cold, as a side effect of the stroke, would leave Casey barely able to walk if at all and possibly unable to even dress herself. The glow of the Christmas tree filled the adjoining living room, and the sparkle of the ball ornaments seemed to call me. Jenny and I each had a little tree that we decorated together the weekend after Thanksgiving, and they stood on the long but short bureau where I had a drawer of my own, more than I had at home. When Jenny, almost by grace, needed a bathroom break, Casey nervously wrung her hands.

“Nichole, my dad’s a cop. I’ve heard it all; he figures it better I learn from him. I’m sorry.”
“Look at those ornaments. Come on; I’ll help you walk,” I let her put her arm around me to stand up.
“Thanks, but what are we doing?”
“Enjoying the Christmas tree. Jenny will find us. I want a photo of us four together.”
“You are such an admirable soul. The ones who deserve it least suffer most,” remarked Casey.
“Quit talking and start posing,” I turned off the depressing talk just as Jenny arrived.

What a picture it was. It truly was an amazing picture. When I saw it, I absolutely had to take a picture in front of the fireplace mantle with its greenery and blue lights so that it truly was what Joy had teasingly called the bluelight special. One of those pictures that Joy took (with my very own smartphone!) saw Jenny giggling because I’d wrapped an arm around her neck to blow a raspberry against her cheek.

It was late enough now that I felt safe, as we went back into the bedroom, motioning to Casey to shut the door behind us. Now was the time to begin thanking my friends for the incredible love both they and their respective families had shone on me on this day. Without even turning the lights back on, I hand gagged Jenny, tackled her onto her bed, and reached into the box under the bed in order to grab a piece of rope. Jenny’s parents were early-to-bed-early-to-rise anyway, and he’d watched the rest of the game from their bedroom. This meant we were free to play TUGs without worry.

Jenny’s legs kicked out so much that Casey sat on them while Joy took over hand gagging her so I could focus on tying her up. The Gangsta Friend pulled off the Gangsta Princess’s smelly and sweaty socks; the Gangsta Queen bound the Gangsta Princess’s flailing arms with a vicious bond right near her elbows; the Gangsta Girl put one sock in the other per the Gangsta Friend’s expert advice and tied a brown bandana around the outer pink sock; the Gangsta Princess protested our actions until her laundry went into her mouth with a tight knot behind her head and underneath her braid.

Joy took over holding Jenny’s legs and even assisted in binding them with some of the tougher brown rope while Casey continued the gagging. A roll of red vet wrap was a completely new toy to me and to Joy, and from her face in the darkness I could see that Jenny was perturbed by it as well. Her eyes sparkled brilliantly though even while she quietly squeaked into the disgusting gag she knew would be there for the next 9 hours. The vet wrap wrapped around her mouth two or three times, and then it wrapped around her chin and the top of her head three more times. It was an interesting and mouth clamping situation that was finished with a brown bandana blindfold.

I had to this point bound Jenny’s elbows and wrists and was now working on her chest and waist. Joy handled her legs. In those days, we hadn't heard of toe ties or of crotch ropes and didn't even consider such things. Overkill wasn't the goal; imprisonment was the simple end to our attack. By the time I finished the waist and chest ropes, Joy had finished binding Jenny’s ankles, knees, and thighs just above her knees. Jenny, as she found quickly, was stuck. In a moment of sudden recollection of the events of the day, I suddenly… um… I spanked Jenny too.

“Mmmm!” squealed the ever-resistant captive.
“Energizer rope bunny,” Casey said with an understanding nod.
“Nichole,” Joy pulled me aside, “Shall we resume the game sans Jenny?”
“I,” I blushed in the darkness, “I… I… Yeah… Um… Yeah, let's do that.”
“Mmmm!” Jenny threw herself about, “Mmmmmmm!”
“Straighten up,” Casey patted me on the back, “You got this.”

That spank just about confirmed my worst fears… I did it because my father does it to me. I did it in an odd playful manner, while he does it in a sick perverted manner, but that doesn't change that I did it. Slumping in defeat, I sat back down in the beanbag chair because I… liked it too. I hated when he did it, but somehow doing it playfully in the context of a game was like an escape. Later in life I was able to point each and every one of my “kinks” back to my abusive childhood.

Jenny didn't seem to ever quit; she was a Type 2 captive in Nichole Theory. Squealing and squirming seemed to be her two favorite sports because she did a ton of both. She made a snowstorm of activity that made me wonder if she needed to go in the closet for a timeout session or be hogtied on the floor. An idea struck Casey, and she pulled the shrieking captive down to the foot of the bed. She sat on Jenny’s thighs, and Joy sat on Jenny's torso. That put her head right near me, and I gave her a big smooch on the forehead.

The rough brown rope held the girl firmly; tighter was better to her as long as she wasn't getting harmed by it. Jenny was made of rubber and contorted into any shape with ease whereas Casey couldn't handle such a tight tie for long because circulation was a problem. My sister was the pleasure of captors everywhere, and it was a thrill to, for the first time, take photos and videos of a captive and directly upload them to the CGC Facebook group.

Then came the Joy-ous surprise when I took another much needed potty break (I drank 3 pounds of water that day). I never realized until afterwards that the sounds I heard in the background were quite familiar. I paused again and stared at myself in the mirror and thought about how good it felt to be safe and wanted and how I wanted to return the favors but didn’t know how.

Upon my exit from the restroom, I discovered a bound and gagged Casey on the bed squirming on the bed more than Jenny. The Gangsta Friend was bound similarly to Jenny but with reduced strictness to allow her to endure the tie for longer. Her feet were bare, so I knew her socks were in her mouth in the same fashion as Jenny’s were in hers. Strips of black duct tape were over her face, but the white bandana showed beyond that. Unlike Jenny, Casey had to be hogtied because she was making such a fuss, and that’s the part that was happening when I finally emerged.

“Joyyyyyyy, you ruined my plan!” I whined a little while I studied the helpless girl.
“Just because I’m not as smart as you doesn’t mean I can’t see through you,” she deadpanned.
“Well, um,” I was stupefied by this and continued to stumble over my words, “I… did…”
“I was going to kidnap you as well, but if you sit down and just nicely play with me…”
“But what?” I didn’t look at her and instead played with Casey’s hair.
“I won’t tie you up.”

I looked at her now and smiled widely. She knew I would enjoy being cuddled or cuddling, and I knew that accepting her offer would earn me a cuddle buddy, likely Jenny, and that declining it would end in me being her cuddle buddy instead. I looked at the sleeping bags and knew that, if we had enough blankets, we could easily fit together on the floor between the two beds.

“I’m not going to play nicely, but I will play,” I egged her on, and Casey giggled a little.
“Take a controller,” Joy motioned, “and choose a Gangsta to sit on.”
“Fine,” I sat on Casey, “Just remember I am going to be as rough on you as the computer.”
“Just sit down and enjoy yourself and celebrate that it all changes in 8 months time.”
“That is the truth. Get ready to go down, Gangsta Girl!” I was smiling once again. A future!
“And just know that nowhere are you loved more than inside these four walls,” she smiled with me as well.

In the darkness, we continued to play while our respective cushions squirmed about. Joy had it a little rougher because Jenny never stopped moving. More than once she ordered Jenny to stop it, and I admit I gave her a second swat that really quieted her down. I blushed, but I think Joy saw it and understood my inner struggle. An ally like her was an essential part in my recovery, and it would turn out to be her to whom I turned when I finally reached my breaking point.

I wasn’t nice at all though. Even though it wasn’t essential, I hammered Joy with everything the game would let me throw at her. After the day I had, I didn’t want to be tied up by anyone but her, and, because her treachery ruined my plan to tie her up instead, I was going to push her into tying me up. Perhaps, just perhaps, I felt like a really naughty Gangsta Queen with my brand new tie-dye blue shirt and bandana, and I physically pushed her after we had turned the game off and put the stuff away. I might have even tackled Joy like I was going to tie her up knowing that she would throw me off and get me back instead.

Joy of course pushed back when I did and giggled like a little girl in a candy store. When you played in her style, it made her so happy that I couldn’t resist playing it her way. Joy was like those grandmothers who stunned you with their strength even though they seemed small and weak. She came back at me with the energy of a lion’s fury but the playful spirit of a kitten, and she put right down in my place with ease since I was getting what I desired and didn’t fight like I could have.

When the familiar white rope started working around my wrists, I smiled and taunted her about doing my bidding. I knew it was inevitable what would happen to me at this point, and my guess was correct because Joy tied my ankles second and then removed my socks from my feet. Into my taunting mouth went the same kind of gag that afflicted Jenny and Casey, and my goodness was it a terrible taste especially since I had gotten out of bed at 5 AM and gotten dressed almost immediately. Over 16 hours of my feet doing their thing into those socks, and now those plus a navy blue bandana gagged me.

Joy took white vet wrap from Casey’s bag and wrapped my mouth and head like Jenny before taking the icy blue bandana from around my neck and blindfolding me with it with the knot over my hair to squish the frizz against my scalp. I felt her continue to tie me up skillfully with a full breast harness, a careful elbow binding, a waist rope, and rope on either side of my knees. In an odd act you could call kindness, she ended it all with a playful spank on my own butt, and it was the night that spanking entered our world of TUGs, an escape from the traumatic hell of home.

I couldn’t see or talk, and my movements were severely hampered. By the sounds, I could tell that Joy took photos and videos of us three captives and then laid the sleeping bags out on the floor. I was a very situational captive, and I decided that tonight I didn’t feel like putting up too much of a fight. Casey had become quiet by the time I was tied up, and Jenny was still going at her struggle with true determination. Bedtime, however, subdued the Gangsta Princess I loved so dearly, and she accepted the fate that awaited us all.

“Are you comfortable?” Joy asked us, and we all nodded.

Sitting us up, which meant undoing Casey’s hogtie, I think Joy took a selfie with the three of us as a group, but then she took one with me alone. A big kiss on the forehead affirmed how much she cared, and we were all laid upon the floor and buried under quilts and comforters while we all sucked on our filthy socks. Joy turned out the lights and got under the quilts so that Jenny was against my bed followed by me, Joy herself, and Casey.

That was how one of the most emotional days of my life ended. It was the first step in what would lead to me becoming the woman I grew to be. For that, I am eternally grateful to Jenny and Joy and their respective families.

Next: The Tree