Sibling Bonding


Sibling Bonding – Part 1

“Anna!” I cried. “Breakfast is ready! Anna!”

I was calling for my slightly younger sister. No, before you think my parents were randy, we are step-siblings. Long story, but yes, Anna is only about less than a year younger than me. We actually hardly ever call each other stepbrother or stepsister. We in fact were extremely close siblings.

This was so much so that we had a rule that we would each take turns to make breakfast for each other on weekends. This sibling rule came about two or three years ago and started to be a regular habit, especially since Anna recently graduated and was back home for good. Her favourite breakfast was fresh ham omelette. It was ready but it was unusual for sis not to be up on a Saturday, especially after half nine in the morning.

“Anna Louise Camden!” I rapped on her door. “Your omelette is getting cold!” I rapped again and then the door clicked, revealing a mass of red hair–yes she’s a fiery redhead. “Morning James,” she finally replied. I noticed she was still in her PJs. “Can you give me a minute. I need to look for something.”

“Your meal’s getting cold. What are you look…is that a handcuff?” Her door may have been slightly open but it was clearly not a bracelet or accessories around her right wrist.

“Uh…”

“Why do you have a handcuff around your wrist? Did something happen to you last night?” It couldn’t be as Anna was home earlier than me and we both wished each other good night.

“Uh…it’s a long story. Could you help find the key? It’s a small plastic piece.” Still curious, i bent down with her and quickly spotted the object. “Thanks, bro. Will be down in a jiffy.”

About ten minutes and an almost cold omelette later, Anna was down in jeans and a short sleeved blouse, well low cut enough to almost reveal her small cleavage if she bent over.

“Ok, spill it. Why were you handcuffed?”

“You promise not to tell anyone else?”

“I’m your brother and close friend,” I reminded her, dying to know.

“Ok, brother, it’s a drama prop. Specifically, a prop from a dram play back at uni.”

“I didn’t know you were in drama. I thought you were dancing.”

She gave me a “may I continue?” look and she did. “It was my friend’s play and i volunteered to help out with back stage stuff. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job but being backstage meant you could get a free pass to watch the actual event.” She paused to finish a bit more of my cooked breakfast.

“Anyway, the show was part of my friend’s overall drama degree, focusing on the challenges of life. One part of it involves the protagonist being temporarily kidnapped and coerced to perform illegal activities. These,” she paused for a while, “are the handcuffs my friend was locked in.”

“And how…wait let me guess. You were trying to renact the play?”

My sister’s skin turned red, almost matching her hair colour. “Uh yes…please please don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone that you were trying to re-enact a play?”

“I mean… you know…being hand..” her voice trailed off and she reached for her tea.

I guessed immediately what she meant but didn’t want to further the subject. Breakfast done, we washed up and I asked her what were her plans for the rest of the day.

“Nothing much, was supposed to go out but the meeting was postponed. You?”

I replied the same. I brought out the cloth for wiping the table and did so, and in the process touched the handcuffs.

“The play must have had a lasting impact on you,” I commented, bringing it up again.

Anna turned and I saw her skin bright red again. “Uhm, how did you guess?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have your BA in Philosophy but I know you well enough to know that you like to keep memories.”

“It was a drama act that was sort linked to philosophy,” she said, wiping the last of the dishes.

“And the – what did you say? Hostage scene must have been closely linked to some philosophical theme.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, wiping her hands. “That was the most intense part.”

“How was it exactly?”

“Ok, let’s head to the living room.” My heart pounding, both of us did so and Anna sat on one of the chairs, arms inserted into the gaps in the chair.

“Well, she was handcuffed to the chair like this,” Anna demonstrated.

“Hands handcuffed to that sort of chair?”

“Yeah, some other team member had a chair in her house like this and brought over,” Anna said.

“Ok, how was she exactly handcuffed?” Come on…

I suddenly snapped the cuffs over my pretty sister. “Like this?”

“OW! James!”

“Come on, Anna, you handcuffed yourself this morning,” I argued. Yes, my little sister cuffed!

“Ok, yeah like this,” she said. I noticed she didn’t have the expression of “what the heck did you do” that most would have had.

“And what next in the scene?”

“Well, the character was intensively questioned,” she continued, slightly twisting in the restraints.

“Like, now Miss Camden, tell me where the crown jewels are?” I changed my tone to a slightly to a slightly sinister one.

“Somet…I won’t tell you!” She had slipped into the act seamlessly.

“Perfect, So what happened if the girl failed to answer the question?”

“Uh,” she closed her eyes. “The girl was uh..”

“Was what?”

“…tortured”. She mumbled the word.

I tried not to hide my excitement as I prodded further. “How was she tortured?”

“Uh, James, really can we postpone this. I think I get the idea now.”

I dragged over a chair a sat next to her. “Do you really want to stop Anna? Or are you hiding something?”

She shifted slightly and did answer so I repeated myself. “Anna, you really really liked the position the character was in right?”

“Jam..please don’t…ok I give. Make sure you don’t tell anyone.” I gestured for her to continue. “I always wanted to be a Damsels in Distress.” Ah hah! My sister, step sister, a DiD.

So for the next few minutes she spilled the beans oh how she dreamt since young of being a captive by evil men or monsters in various situations. “So..uh these cuffs were like the great objet every and I uh…” she trailed off, her skin tuning red again.

“So, what happened to the character?”

“She was uh tortured with…please don’t James….”

“Spill it.”

“Ice. No please don’t!” But I ignored her cries and ran back to the kitchen. Within a few minutes I was back with a few ice cubes wrapped in a dish towel. “James, I don’t wa…AH!!!” I pressed the ice again her left arm. “AH!” she cried again, as I repeated it against her other arm. “James Carden! Sto..AH!” I pressed the icy block against her cheeks.

“That’s for not answering the question Miss Camden.” I returned to my sinister voice.

“Ok, ok…ah!” I pressed yet another against her neck. By this time, part of the ice began to melt, causing a damp spot that trickled down to her boobs. “James! Enough!”

I nodded and discarded ice and cloth. “But you liked that right?”

“Ok, yes that how it sort of happened. But…”

“Tell me what happened after the torturing.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Tell me Anna. You’ve no place to go for now.”

“She was g…”

“Was what? Speak up.”

“Gagged. But…”

“Gagged how?”

“With t…” I didn’t wait for Anna to finish her sentence and ran up the stairs. Where was…ah ha! It was the family medical kit, which mum kept around since we became a family. I headed back down and Anna’s eyes widen as she saw what was in my hands. “James, I really think you should….mmmmmphh!!!” her sentence turned into a gag speech.

Part 2

So where I left off, I had found my stepsister Anna handcuffed to one wrist early one Saturday morning. After much prompting, I discovered she had helped out with some drama play were the character had been bound with handcuffs, thus explaining her with that item at home. One thing lead to another and Anna was soon cuffed to a chair, her hands behind her. She then explained that the character had also been gagged so I gleefully got some medical tape and pasted it over her mouth.

“Mmmmppph, lmmme upppp!!” She screamed.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Anna just continued to wail through the gag until I peeled it off.

“James!” She glared at me and said “stop this! Un-cuff me at once!”

“Why? You want this don’t you?” I admit it, I was trying to torture her psychologically.

“Release me at once!” She screamed as she tugged at the cuffs.

“That’s mum and dad’s special chair. If you break it, you pay for it,” I warned her.

“Damnit…”

“Language, language, sister. Now tell me, how was the character gagged?”

“James…” I reached over and ticked her sides, starting from her tummy, to her legs, back to her tummy. then her sides and even near her boobs, feeling her bra as I did so and getting a slight erection. “James…James…” she wailed.. “stop this!!”

“Tell me how it went, or I’ll tickle forever,”

“No…”

I pressed my fingers deeper into her sides. “Ok, ok stop it!” She yelled.

“So spill it…”

“I…uh..it’s embarrassing…”

“Say it…”

“No…”

“Fine, I’ll just tape gag you,” I proceeded to rip off another piece of tape

“Ok, I give. The girl was also gagged, tape gagged with a…”

“Go on…”

“With a…oh my gosh…it’s so embarrassing….”

“Say it…”

“pair of her…knick….” but I got it and ran back upstairs to her room, grabbed one of the items from her drawer and ran back downstais. “James, no stop it! I won’t have my undies in my mouth!”

“Why not?”

“Because…” she turned red in the face. “It’s disgusting!”

“But you seem so happy being cuffed and re-enacting the scene,” I played with her mind as she sat there.

“No…uh…” she sounded weak.

“Open your mouth Anna,” I ordered, sounding almost like a kidnapper or crook.

“It’s dir..ty…”

“It’s a clean pair, from your drawer,” I argued. Unless my stepsis puts her dirty pants in her drawer…

“James…” she pleaded but I tickled her with one hand causing her to open her mouth. It was wide enough for the bikini like undies – wow, nice choice sis — to fit inside. I then plastered a new piece of tape over her mouth.

“Try yelling..” I told her.

“Mmmmpppp,” it came out as a softer cry.

“Now, that’s not too bad right sis?” I gave her a slight kiss on her red hair then sat down next to her, reading my kindle. I continued to read my book, occasionally looking and watching Anna struggling and grunt through the underwear gag. After maybe an hour or so, I heard her yelp three times through the gag and tug at her cuffs. “What?” I asked.

“Mmmpp, Tmmm,” she wailed.

I waited for a while then moved to peel off the tape, extracting the saliva-soaked knickers out–yucks! “What?” I repeated.

‘James, I need to…pee,” she croaked.

“Yeah right,” I was about to stuff the underwear back when she shook her head.

“Fine, hold on,” I finally uncuffed her right wrist and as she stood up, I brought the cuffs in front and secured them in front of her.

“James!”

“What? You can take off your jeans using your hands.”

“Don’t be silly; release me!”

“Ok, ok,” I did so but then held her firm. “But you don’t need your mouth to pee.” I stuffed the soaked undies back inside and re-sealed her mouth. I remembered that line from some movie.

She glared at me before proceeding to the nearby loo. Minutes later, my gagged stepsis exited straight into me and I cuffed her right hand. “Mmmpphh!” she cried.

“It’s not over yet,” I announced, leading her to the kitchen again and securing the other ring to the sides of a table. I brought a can of soup and started to boil it.

Minutes later, I finally peeled off the tape and extracted the underwear from her mouth, placing it on the table.

“Thanks…” she croaked then I gave her a cup of water to hydrate her mouth.

“Can you uncuff me?” She asked as I settled the bowl of soup in front of her.

“You still have your right hand free,” I countered.

“James, it’s over, release me,” she argued.

“Not it’s not sis. We’re alone and you like it so hurry up and finish your lunch so we can get back.”

“Release me!”

I headed over to her and snapped the other cuff behind her back. “Now, captive, i have to spoon feed you.”

“No…” she finally gave in and finished the soup herself. “James, please, the cuffs hurt.”

“No, arguing Anna, up to your room.” prodding her, I picked up her soggy knickers and force marched her to her room.

“Now, tell me more about the play,” I ordered, forcing her to squat on the ground.

“No…”

“Okay, in this goes again,” I held up her soaked pink knickers.

“No..”

“Tell me then,” I ordered.

Glaring at me, she replied, “the script in on my desk.”

Part 3

So where I left off I had led or rather forced my sister up to her room to read the drama script she was involved with. Now with the script in my hands, I settled down on her bed to read it.

“James…” she pleaded with a stronger plea than before. I ignored her.

“James…” she repeated.

“What!”

“Can we…you please…”

“Hush sister. You want to be gagged again?” I pointed to her soggy undies.

“No…”

“Then quiet,” I replied, going back to the script.

“James…” I lunged over to her and cupped my left hand over her lips, effectively hand-gagging her. With my other free hand, I started to read the script. It was the typical DiD scenario, a rich daughter kidnapped due to her and her father’s riches. The girl was handcuffed to a chair, just like what i did to my stepsis earlier, except that her legs were cuffed as well. “Hmm, we missed this out didn’t we?” I looked at my sis.

“Mmmmpph…” was her response and I felt a bit of her saliva against my hand.

“Let’s see…yes they used ice torture to get information out of her, they wow! hot objects against her, then electric shock torture! This is some drama act alright how did you manage it?” All I got was some muffled yells from Anna. “Okay,” I said I flipped over the page, “the character finally revealed the location of her jewels and the combination code…wait she’s release from the chair…” I skipped a page and then my eyes widen. “Hmmm…the girl now is bound with rope, not just around her arms, wrists and ankles but over her breasts and crotch…as well…” Turning to Anna, I exclaimed, “your play showed a girl wearing a crotch rope? Wow, this is some adult drama act as well!”

“James, please can’t we stop this…” she pleaded as I removed my hand.

“Why…”

“Because…it’s…” Anna started to stammer.

“Because it’s some you secretly like right?” Anna was bright red now and looked down.

“Don’t worry sis, I know where to get some rope.”

“James!” She grabbed my arm. “Please, let’s stop this,”

“Oh no sister, it is still on.” Before she could move further, I cuffed her again, attaching the cuffs to the leg of her bed and pasted a piece of tape over her lips. Stay her oh red head.” She gave several yelps but I ignored her as I raced down to the garage. My father and I fished alot as a hobby and our rods and fishing boat naturally required rope. I picked out a coil of rope used for our sail boat and also a pair of heavy duty scissors. Anna’s eyes widen as I came back with the rope.

“Okay Miss Camden, I remove your gag, you don’t yell.” I did so and with saliva dripping down her chin, Ann burst out, “James, you can’t be serious.”

“You want your gag back on?” She shook her head.

“Then obey me.” I knew by now I was sounding much like a captor or a master, but I didn’t care. This was really a fun time and mostly Anna’s fault–she was the one who had the handcuffs in the first place. Soon enough I released her once more and wrenched her arms behind her. Just then I stopped.

“What…”

“Your clothing. The play described the girl in a floral dress, down to just below her knees. You’re in a jeans and skirt.”

“I’m not going to change in front of you…”

“I never said so. Now, I’m sure you have a dress like that, go put one on.”

Anna hesitated. “James, binding me with rope is one thing but..uh are you going to tie the…crotch rope?”

“That’s what happened in the play,” I held up the script.

“James, I’m not letting you type a rope around my…my…”

“Put on some thing tights. Now move.” Gee, sis what’s wrong with mentioning crotch?

Minutes later, Anna was in a light blue floral dress and 20 denier tights. “Ow!” She yelled s I wrapped the first round of rope around her wrists. “James, does it have to be so tight?”

“A bit yes,” I loosen it slightly but had no plan to make it a sloppy rope work. Indeed less that 10 minutes later, her wrists were tight bound behind her with some sort of lashing.”

“James, it hurts.”

“It could be worst sis,” I replied, then wrapped one rope below her boobs. “What on earth?!”

“Oh come on, you know the girl in the play was bound like this.”

“James, I won’t be able to breathe…” But i ignored her protests and soon enough I managed to wrap rope in some form of a breast bondage style around her breasts. I truthfully never knew the cup size of my step sister but now it looked like a good B cup protruding out.

“Next part, the crotch rope,” I announced and saw Anna shiver in fear. Two loops around her waist, that’s fine. Making her lie over, I ran the rest of the rope between her anus and her crotch. In the process, i did get a good glimpse of her white high waist knickers since her tights were quite transparent. Oh yes, I included a small knot which directly rested against her crotch. Not sure if it was against her clitoris, but it had to do. I then quickly bound her ankles and then moved to fix her gag.

“Please, please I don’t want my knickers in my mouth again,” she cried.

“Ok, but how bout this?” I picked up one of her others tights and wrapped in around her head, giving her a passable cleave gag. All done.

Part 4

So when I left off, I had rope tied my sister, and gave her a basic breast bondage and crotch rope. As moved back to examine my work, she immediately groaned. This wasn’t a “get me untied” groan but a vastly different one. The groan turned to to several muttered of “mmmoooh” and “mmmahhh” so I kindly removed the basic cleave gag and asked her what was wrong.

“James! Oh my g…I’m…having an…orgas…oh my I can’t believe I said it!”

“Say it again..” I responded.

“No…ah!! Ohh! Please remove…oh…”

“Say it sister Anna,” I prompted her.

“No…please…oooh…I can’t believe I’m actually…mmpph!!!” I tied the cleave gag back. Ever since I had met Anna, I had known her as a well-mannered girl. I’ve also long suspected she was really moralistic, never did anything wild or extraordinary, never had a boyfriend, never chased after boys, never did anything special. She most probably never kissed any guy except my father and thus most probably never… Well, played with her clit or ever had an orgasm/arousal. So yes, this was most definitely her first orgasm.

Anna gave muffled cries as I settled down next to her to read the drama script. Just as I flicked the page, a ringing sound interrupted her cries and my reading.

“Mmmhphommm,”she wailed.

“Yes, sis, hold on, I’ll get the phone.” Minutes later, I popped my head back in and held my finger to my lips. “It’s our mum. Be quiet and I’ll remove the gag.” She nodded gratefully and I dabbed her mouth with a damp cloth.

“Hi, Mummy, yeah…no we just had our…uh..lunch…no..nothing special,” she said, quite evidently straining to talk as the crotch rope tingled her clitoris. “No…what? You’re coming home what time? Oh…ok, we..ah sorry, get our own dinner. You want to speak to James? Ok..Bye.”

Turning to me and trying her best to ignore the sensation, she turned to me and said, “Mum and Dad won’t be home until very late. James…oooh….can we..” I ignored her cries as I yanked open her drawer and picked out something. “Open again, Anna,” but she shook her head violently. I tickled her once more–didn’t want to pinch her mouth–and it was opened just enough to jam another of her own tights into her mouth. Quickly, the cleave gag secured them in.

“Mmmmmpp…” she wailed.

“Oh, sis, that’s what the script says here,” I pointed to the page. “The girl gets a a stuffing, see? Just getting you to enjoy what’s written.”

I stepped back once more and saw my pretty red-haired sister bound, gagged and crotch roped. As she continued to squirm and moan, I felt an erection down there. Anna was a really a pretty step sister from the start and several times, my male friends often mistook her as my girlfriend, not my sister. This wasn’t the first time I felt aroused by my sister; watching her in her night clothes or sleeveless summer clothing. I make no apologies for this though–it’s just human nature.

I sat on her bed and continued to watch her squirm around in the bondage then picked up the drama script again. The middle of the story line was boring so I skipped that. Just as I turned the page, I saw an asterix and followed it down the page to find the hand-written words ‘AL Camden’.

“AL….hey!” I turned to Anna. “You wrote this play?”

“NmmmIdidnmmmrelemmm!!!” She cried.

I looked back at the script and saw that included the damsel-in-distress to be bound with ropes around her breasts, a rope between her legs and a ball gag!!! “AL Camden!” I cried, sitting my sister up against the bed frame. “You wrote this play?” I asked again, only to get a muffled reply.

Yanking off the gag, I repeated myself. “Damn you James!! Release me at once.”

“Breast bondage, crotch ropes, ball gag…hey look includes knickers over her head! This isn’t some simple play,” I pointed at the page.

“Release….mmmpph!!!!” I hand-gagged her and felt her spit against my hand. “Tell me what I want to hear sis, or you knickers go in your mouth and stay there!”She shook her head violently so I threw her flat down against the bed.

“Ok! Ok! I give!” She yelled. “I co-wrote this play. It was a private act ok! The girl was a friend and yes that all happened!! Now please release me!”

“Oh really,” I muttered. “Ball gag,” I read out loud. “I wonder if I will find it here?”

“Damn y…” I re-gagged her as I said with her soggy knickers and tape. With Anna violently thrashing around, I searched her room and voilia! I found a black ball gag in her bag.


Part 5

“My oh my, Anna Camden, what do we have here?” I held up the ball gag in front of her. She only gave frantic cries through the gag. “Ok, I remove your present gag, you explain this. Ok?”‘ She nodded and gave more muffled cries. I finally eased her soggy knickers out after the tape and she screamed, “please, the crotch rope, get it off!!!”

“Not until you explain why you have a ball gag.”

“Please, I can’t bear any more!!!” I thought for a few seconds then reached down and undid the crotch rope, spying a bit of her own undies in the process. “Now explain.”

“Water please; the gag dried my throat.” I gracious accepted her request, but used the cup and facet in bathroom. “Can you remove my bonds?”

“No, they stay. Now tell me about this ball gag.”

“Okay, look it’s part of the play. Yes, I admit I co-wrote the play with my friend. Somehow, the first actress considered for the damsel-in-distress didn’t and couldn’t fit in, so I sort of volunteered. No, I DID NOT buy the gag or the cuffs; someone else did and I don’t know who. But I volunteered to keep the props. Now please, can you release me?”

“No.”

“Why? Look, I gave in to all your play. I don’t want to spend more time bound and gagged.”

“You do,” I replied, as her facial expression was much different from her plea.

“No, please.”

“Yes. Now, here’s the deal. You wear this ball gag, and that will be the final play.”

“No.”

“Ok, then I’ll keep the key to the cuffs and stuff back your knickers.”

“You sadistic…”

“What did you call me?”

“James, I’m your sister. Not your slave.”

“I’m not treating you as such. But after all, you wrote the play, you like being bound in adult style. You want it don’t you?”

Anna shook her head but I knew she wanted it. “At least give me a breather first.” I nodded and allowed her to relieve herself in the loo before re-binding her. “It hurts.”

“I guess you didn’t say that when they bound you.”

“Look ok, you want to see me gagged with that but the bonds hurt. Can’t you loosen them or remove the uh breast bondage?” She clearly liked to be tied up but not confident in saying the bondage types. “If I don’t use rope what can I use?” I yanked open several of her desk drawers and soon found some parcel tape. “No, no…” But soon enough her hands were taped bound tightly. “Not over my dress or tights’ the tape will ruin them!”

“So I guess it’s just rope then.”

She glared at me. Picking up the ball gag, I ordered her to open her mouth. “Wait, it’s dirty,” she cried.

“No, it smells ok. Besides, you wore it last right? Open up dear sister….” She regretably did and once more she was bound and gagged. Yay!

Part 6

As soon as I locked the ball gag in place, Anna started emitted gagged sounds and moved about. Clearly, she needed to be more secure. “Stay still,” I said. She clearly didn’t so I grabbed the rope and holding her with both my arms and thighs, I started winding rope around her boobs again, forming some basic secure but not tight breast bondage to secure her arms to her sides. Since she didn’t want tape around her silky tights (yes they were silky), I used what was left with the rope to bind them.

“Mmmmppph!” She cried but the ball gag masked the sound, though less than her panty gag earlier. Still, that was the kinky item she had. “Aw come on Anna,” I patted her on her head, “it’s the gag you had and wrote about right?” She continued to groan through the gag and being naughtier, I switched on her radio to a station she hated and soon enough, some punk hip hop music which she always hated but I was alright with came on. It made her squirm and groan even more. So for the next few minutes, I had much enjoyment listening to the various songs that were played while watching my sister wriggle and cry out through the gag she had.

After around twenty minutes and four songs later, I noticed a huge damp part on her bed and turned her head around to see her saliva drooling out by side of her mouth. “Aw, you’re drooling like a baby, Anna,” I commented in my evil voice as I drew some tissue to wipe the drool. Anna glared at me and continued to moan and drool. Finally, I had some kind of pity for her, and eased the ball out from between her teeth.

“That… water,” I got a cup from the nearby toilet and eased the cup into her mouth.

Once she had finished drinking, she said “James, can I not be gagged by this? It hurts and it’s humiliating.”

“Oh so did you say that when you wrote the script and acted it out?” I retorted.

“No…but…”

“But what?”

“I didn’t wear it for long. Come on, you made your point. Let’s end.”

“No, you like this.”

“No…”

“Ok, I give you a try. Try to get out of the bonds in three minutes. If you succeed, I’ll stop. If not…” I gave her an evil grin. “Your time starts now!” Anna struggled wildly and did manage to get part of the tape around her wrists torn but as I counted down the seconds, that was at most she could do. “I win!” I clapped my hands in triumph.

“Not fair! You bound my arms! The tapes were too tight!”

“Complaints, complaints. Now open wide,” I lifted up the ball which I wiped clean.

“Give me a breather first.”

I complied, undoing the torn tapes, but minutes later her wrists were bound again and the gag was back on. “Ok, no more music,” I switched off the radio. “How about we watch a movie?” She nodded and carrying her with one arm touching her tights-covered thighs to the nearby TV room. Over the next hour or so, we rapidly switched through a series of action movies and romance movies. All was going well until Anna started mmmmphing wildly through her gag. “What?” I asked, easing the ball out again.

“James, I need to go to the loo.”

“I thought I let you already.”

“No, please I need to.” Sighing, I started working at her bonds. I could get the ropes off easily from around her ankles but the tape was a different matter. “Hurry damnit!” she cried. Instead of trying further, I pulled her up and got her to the toilet and instinctively yanked down both her knickers and her tights in one go. Then I left her to do her business.

“James! James damnit James! my hands are still bound!” Sighing I returned with scissors so she could clean herself while I looked away.

“I can’t believe my step brother actually removed my undies,” she groaned as we stepped back out.

“Well, take it as a record of your life.” I joked.

“Very funny, hey!” she cried, as I snapped the handcuffs back on her wrists securing them behind her back. “James, can we stop this now?”

“No, no,” then the clock chimed. “Ok, no gag,” but then I realised her breast bondage was still on so I removed it. “I’ll make you dinner ok?” I brought her down and within less half an hour I had cooked a ready made pizza. “Uh,” She gestured to her arms so I removed one cuff to allow her to eat.

“You get excited by all this don’t you?” She asked between bites.

“Excited? It’s interested.”

“Come on brother, you know what I mean.”

“Whatever sex drive I have is my business,” I replied.

“Well you were really ‘interested’ seeing me with that….crotch rope,” she continued.

“You wrote that play.”

“Ok, fine fine, I wrote an erotic play. What, is that a crime?”

“You like it. You started playing with the cuffs, you had the ball gag.”

“And….?”

“And finish up,” I said then as she did so, I secured her wrists again. “James!” She cried.

“Ok, just until tomorrow morning ok?”

“What, no – how can you?”

“Please for me?” I gave her a puppy dog look.

“Let me change first, I’m no longer going to wear this and give more upskirts to my brother.” Back in her room, she changed into slacks and a pink T-shirt and I held up the cuffs.

“No, that hurts.” I pointed to tape but after the earlier incident, we both rejected that. I pointed to the zip ties but she shook her head and same with the rope. “Well, either you choose or I’ll do it.”

“Grrr..ok, fine,the handcuffs. But no breast…uh bondage ok?” She still didn’t seem to like term.

“Ok fine,” She was quickly re-cuffed and ropes around her ankles. “Open wide,” I held up ball gag.

“No anything but that!” Groaning, I reach into her drawer and ignoring her protests, she was gagged with a black pair of her knickers sealed in with two strips of tape. Back at the TV room, I put on a couple James Bond movies, stopping and movie to the next. Anna was never a Bond fan so she did groan through her gag. Time flew by until it was nearly midnight.

“Bed time,” I removed her bonds and tossed the saliva-soaked undies into her laundry basket. Anna soon was in her cute teddy bear PJs when I stopped her.

“What?” then she noticed the cloth in my hand.

“James you got to be joking. It’s bed time, I am not going to be bound!”

“Yes you are. Don’t worry, it will be light bondage.” She continued to protest but I persuaded her and bound her wrists lightly in front of her with cloth and gave her a cleave gag. As a finishing touch, her ankles were also bound with cloth.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll camp out if your room too,” I said and brought over my sleeping bag. “Goodnight Anna.”

Part 7

I was awaken by feeling over my lips. As I stirred, it was clear it was something human–a human hand. “GOT YOU!” I heard a familiar voice cry but that was the end of the cry as my hand reached out and with a few tackles, I brought Anna flat down on the ground. “Ah, the captive has escaped eh?” I snarled, the foul odour of my breath breathed down on my sister.

“Yes and this is the end of your…mmmph!!!!” I used my right arm to cover her lips wile my other armed pressed down on her torso–I said torso, I didn’t wanted to touch her boobs.

“MmmJammmes….”

“Give in! Give in!” She continued to struggle but her resistance was weak. I dragged her off the ground and flopped her back on her bed. “Jam…” she cried but I wasn’t in the mood as I rummaged around the room. Ah! I spied the ball gag, I mean the ball gag she tried to hide but I found, and lifted her head. “Noo….mmmph!” I eased the ball in between her teeth and buckled it in. I searched around and found the handcuffs and locked her wrists behind her.

“Though you can escape huh?” I spied the cloth gag and cloth on her bed. Well, they weren’t exactly tight bindings….

“Jammmmps…” She cried through the ball.

“Don’t ‘James’ me. I was planning on ending this today. Now your luck has changed.”

“Ommr parmmmts wimmm be…” She tried talking but saliva started to drool out of her gag. Serves her right.

“Yeeah but not till the evening.” Anna started protesting again but stopped.

“Oh Miss failed escappee,” I reached over and unlocked her cuffs. “You’re allowed to shower. But…” I dragged her over to the bathroom and pulled off her towel from the rack.

“Get over there behind the closet door and change out of your clothes, put the towel on.” With a curious look, Anna compiled, ensuring I couldn’t see her naked body as she tucked the towel around her cleavage. She gave a yelp as I cuffed her hands in front of her then led her back to the bathroom.

“Ok shower,” I said. She raised up her hands.

“I said shower Anna. No no, the cuffs stay on as well as the gag. Don’t you try to take off the latter. No,” I shook my head, “I don’t care, the cuffs are in front not behind. Now get moving.”

Slightly over ten minutes later, Anna emerged, her hands still cuffed and the ball gag in place, but the towel not so well tucked around her. I uncuffed her hand and ordered, “Get changed,” I pointed to a set of clothes I picked out for her. It was a shiny light blue bra and skimpy translucent pink knickers, short pleated skirt and simple T-shirt.

“Jmmm…” but I was in the mood as cuffed her hands behind her then brought her downstairs. In the chair, I bound her with tape and rope, ensuring a secure binding before I turned my attention to breakfast. I cooked up a full English (with no black pudding) and then stared at her as I placed her plate in front of her.

“Do you think you deserve this?”

“Immmhungmy,” Was her answwer. I waited for several second before easing out the gag and boy was her jaw filled with drool.

“I…thanks,” she coughed and I was briefly sympathetic and wiped her mouth.

“James, can I please have my hands free?” She tugged at her cuffs.

“No.”

“Please. Look I’m sorry I got free and tried to tackle you. Please…” I sighed and uncuffed one ring ensuring one of her wrists was cuffed to the arms of the chair.

“Very funny,” she commented.

“Just eat up.”

“Can we discuss…”

“Eat your food or the ball goes back in.” Anna did so regrettably. Breakfast done, I reached forward to replace the ball but she shook her head. “Not this gag again. No….mmpph!!!”

“You don’t get a say in this matter step sis,” I snarled again. Undoing her from the chair, I marched her back up to her room but instead of more bondage, I lay her body down on the bed and her knees kneeling on the floor. I then removed the ball from her teeth.

“James, what on earth are you doing?” Anna started to cry out but then I simply lifted her skirt up and swatted her underwear-covered bum hard. “OW!”

“Remember when you were 10 and you broke dad’s gift to mum?” I reminded her. “Remember what you got?”

“James, this is out…..OW!” I spanked her again. “OW!” “Stop this at once!!!”

“I don’t want you to choke on a gag but no I’m not stop.” Anna continued to cry out as I spanked her a total of ten times.

Part 8

“James!” My step sister cried as I helped her up. “You…you…you spanked me!!!!!”

“It’s not your first time that you got that,” I reminded her.

“But… but that’s parental. You’re my brother…”

“Step brother,” I corrected her.

“That’s worse. You… touched my pants… my underwear… my bum…. it’s mo…”

“What you want to report me for molesting you?” A small part of me was wondering if she would but her look said something else.

“Just let me the f*** out! Get these f****ing things off me!” She tugged at the plastic cuffs.

“Whine Anna. If I were you, I wouldn’t struggle; those ties can really cut through your skin.”

“James!”

“Stop ‘James’ me. First you swore Miss “I pledge never to swear in my life”. Second, you wrote the full fetish novel which I can easily distribute.” I noticed her flare up. “Third, that morning tackle means I want revenge.”

“But…”

“Stop whining and remember we still have the day ahead.”

“You…ok fine. You want me as your play toy? Let me loose; I need to really use the loo. And no, you aren’t going to see anything.” Not that I was interested in seeing her private part. I complied with her request and gave her time. But back out she said, “Do I have to still wear this?”

“Why?”

“I was thinking of like jeans, or at least so tights and shorts….”

“Stop horsing around and get your arms behind you,” I ordered. I used rope this time for a good reason but tried to not kill off all her circulation. It wasn’t just all around her wrists, I gave her a complex breast bondage, pushing her boobs out. “You’re…enjoying this aren’t you,” she commented. I didn’t reply. “You’re getting a hard o…” I yanked her hair.

“Rule 101. Never torment your captor. I could gag you now, but if you remain silent it can wait.” For the next part, however, she definitely could not remain silent as I tightened a rope around her waist then through her anus and up through the middle of her crotch (ok there was a slight peek at her front but hey it was covered!). “James…”

“Shut up and save your breath,” I warned but the sensations from the crotch rope worked its magic and she started to moan. I swiftly bound her ankles and knees then paused.

“Ah…oooh! No…ah!!!” My step sister cried out from the arousal. I initially reached out for the ball gag but remembered her earlier comments. There wasn’t cloth nearby and I didn’t think a cleave gag would be sufficient so I went for the next best. “Which would you like Anna? Pink? Dark blue? Black?” I held up the items.

“Damn…ah!!” was her response so I chose the largest–the dark blue knickers and jammed it in her mouth sealing it with a two long pieces of duct tape.

Anna was bound and gagged again.

Part 9

“Your problem, Anna Louise,” I began as I watched her groan through the gag , “is that you can’t keep secrets and simply aren’t who you really are.”

“Gtmmmemmmoutmmmommphis!” She cried. More like a groan as a result of the crotch rope, I thought gleefully. I watched her squirm for a few more minutes before lifting my sister up and carrying her downstairs. As seating her would disrupt the crotch rope, I laid her gently on the floor and started fixing up breakfast.

Around half an hour later, I yanked her up and regrettably undid the crotch rope – but used that rope to lightly bind her to the chair. I then gave her a warning and tore away the tape and extracted her underwear out.

“Tha…thanks,” she said. I gave her a sip of juice–you can’t give a bound girl hot coffee or tea–and then proceeded to eat.

“Hey! Am I suppose to eat my pancakes like a dog?” She did have a point, so I groaned and undid her wrists.

“You know, our parents will have a real hard time wondering about my wrist and lip marks,” she grunted as she ate.

“The marks aren’t that bad, and you can apply your make up,” I retorted. It is true, somehow there weren’t rope marks.

“Damnit it James, I want this to end after breakfast!”

“Eat your food. I decide what to with you,” I growled back in the captor-like voice.

Breakfast over, I tied her hands back but not her ankles and decided not to stuff her mouth but taped it back up. Back in her room, I made her sit with her legs slightly open as I rummaged through her stuff once more.

“Okay, ‘fess up Step sis. Any more gags or binding material you have? Or drama scripts?” I smirked as I tore off her gag again.

“You know, if this was any other circumstance, I would have chased you out of my room.”

“Answer my question,” I growled.

“No…”

“That doesn’t sound right. Try again.”

“I said no ok! Let me out of this…hey! Yikes, yikes no, no..yikes, yikes!” Her cries came as I ticked her in her armpits, tummy, feet and lifted her skirt to touch her bum. Tickling was her weak point–I knew this when I first met her.

“James..no…ok…ok I tell!”

“Right, no nonsense. From the start.”

“I always liked to be a damsel in distress ok? Not like those fake ones on TV or books. A real one! I’ve been reading up on such and found out about ball gags and cuffs. That’s it ok!”

I looked at her eyes and determined she spilled out everything. “Ok, sis, I believe you. So, since you like them,” I saw something within my grasp. “You can have your wish for the last time!” Before she could move further, I ball gagged her once more, then quickly changed her wrists bonds to handcuffs. With her slightly kicking legs rope bound, Anna was once more secured.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I smiled then left to relief myself. As I slowly headed back to her room, I hear a screeching noise. Shit, my parents were back. I quickly rushed back to her room and saw Anna mmmphing loudly and squirming around. “I know, I know,…” I said sweating profusely. Where was the key? I turned 360 degrees and tossed over various items. Shit, shit shit….I finally found it under the bed.

“Mmmmh, Hurmmmph!” She cried. The cuff looose, I quickly yanked off the ball gag, thankfully not chipping her teeth. “Hurry, help!” She pointed at leg restraints. But damn, those were tightly bound. I heard my parents call.

“Damnit, I have to get out! You do it!” I rushed back to my own room, and quickly combed my hair and shaved with my electric shaver.

“Hey, there you are,” I turned to see my dad.

“Hey Pop, how was your trip.”

“Nice, but exhausting. Anna also in her room?”

“Yeah…” I hope she got her legs unbound in time.

“James? Anna?” I heard my mum call. “Why’s there rope in the kitchen chair?”

The End.

From GDIT Charlotte Angel: 1 Charlie’s First Case


Charlie’s First Case

“And what could you bring to the Herald, Miss Angel?”

“Well, I’m very good at English, at my last school I actually won several awards for writing and one of my essays was selected for publication in an anthology for a local charity. “

“No, Miss Angel. I’m not asking about your writing talents; you submitted more than enough evidence of that when you handed in your application.”

She waved a blue ring-binder file which I had handed into the office a few days earlier.

“I want to know about you, about how you would find me stories, interviews.. I mean this essay about your granddad swallowing his false teeth is extremely well written but it doesn’t tell me if you’ve got what it takes to be a reporter.”

I sighed, it was only a school newspaper The Holmes Herald it wasn’t one of the nationals or anything. What did she want me to say, that I had evidence the headmaster was operating a secret white slavery ring kidnapping sixth formers and shipping them out to the Middle East? I’d only been coming to the school a week how the hell was I supposed to know anything?

I rubbed my hands across the front of my pleated blue skirt as I tried to think of an answer. “Err, I do have an eye for the unusual, anything happening out of the ordinary, that sort of thing,” I blurted out.

She looked me straight in the eye. “I wonder if that’s true,” she responded . It’s odd but I didn’t get the feeling she doubted me; it was more like she knew something I didn’t and was waiting for me to cotton on.

“Okay, right then Miss Angel – Charlotte, I’ll give you till Monday morning to find a story and write it up. If you can do that and if I like what I read the jobs yours.”

“Monday,” I repeated. “that doesn’t give me much time!”

She smiled and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “If you’re as observant as you say you are that should be ample time,” she said softly. “Believe me when I say that there’s hardly a day goes by when something unusual doesn’t go on in Crooksville.”

When she said that I knew I was going to like Rupinder Punshon, the editor. She was two years above me studying English and Sociology at A-level. A very attractive girl of Indian extraction she was wearing a brightly coloured sari and her long black hair was tied in a French plait that reached to her waist. We shook hands and I left her office – a converted portacabin on the school grounds – and headed back through the main building to the front gate.

Now that I hopefully have your attention, dear reader, I think it is probably safe for me to tell you a bit about myself, but please fell free to skip ahead if you really aren’t interested, my story proper resumes on page 2.

My name is Charlotte Angel, but my friends tend to call me Charlie while my family for their own reasons call me Lotte. People tell me I’m pretty but I can’t see it myself. I’m 15 going to16 this October – its September as I write and there are less than 4 weeks to go – with straight brown shoulder length hair and brown eyes. At 175cm tall, I’m the second tallest girl in my class and while I’m not fat I have enough muscle to stop me looking skinny. I have 32A cup boobs. I get the odd spot, though thankfully not too often, and I enjoy all sorts of different sports. I’m just a typical teenager really, full of hang ups and anxieties but I do pride myself on one thing and that’s my innate sense of justice and fair play. I inherited that from my parents, mum’s a lawyer, and dad is – was – a policeman.

I’m the middle of 3 sisters; my elder sister Verity is 19. She’s the gorgeous one of the family, lovely blonde hair, ruby red lips, Think Marilyn Monroe and up the ante by 10. I also have a brat of a kid sister, Serendipity: the name means lucky accident but I think my parents were being ironic when they chose it. She’s a 12 year old computer geek and the most obnoxious know-it-all but I love her really. I just don’t like her most of the time.

About six months ago our lives were turned upside down when dad was killed trying to intervene in a bank robbery. After that mum had to give up her worthy but poorly paid job with the CPS in London and go into private practice. Unfortunately that meant uprooting the family and moving us here, to Crooksville, the dullest, most boring town in the whole of Oxfordshire, no the whole of England, no make that the most boring place on Earth. I hate it here, we moved in three weeks ago and my life seems to have just stopped. Nothing ever happens here! Ever!

There are only two secondary schools in the whole of Crooksville. I was enrolled at Holmes Secondary Modern, the better of the two or so they tell me. The other school is called Moriarty High and is on the far side of town. The two schools apparently have some sort of friendly rivalry thing going on between them but term only started 4 days ago so I have yet to see any evidence to support that statement. Okay that’s enough about me – back to the story.

It was 4:30 in the afternoon when I left Rupinder’s office. School had officially been over for at least an hour and I wouldn’t have gone back into the school building except for the fact I left my bag in my locker. I certainly didn’t expect to see any other pupils about at that hour, especially not pupils from Moriarty High.

The obvious difference between our school and Moriarty High was the uniforms. I, for example was wearing a crisp white shirt, black blazer, blue knee length skirt, white ankle socks and black loafers. I also wore a yellow and black school tie. Apart from variations in skirt length and footwear just about every girl in the school wore the same, well we of cours wore black tights in the colder months.

You can imagine my surprise therefore when I rounded a corner and saw two girls going into one of the classrooms dressed in yellow blouses and black skirts – the colours of Moriarty High. Of course my curiosity was piqued; what’s more I could already see this as the break I was looking for. Rupinder had told me if I kept my eyes open I would find a story. What if this was it? I decided to investigate.

Pressing my back to the wall of the corridor I sidled across to the door which the girls had disappeared through. They had closed the door behind them but there was a window in the middle of it, which allowed me to see inside. It was a computer room and one of the girls was sat at a terminal typing while her friend stood over her. What could they be doing? They were an odd looking couple, the one sat down was a tall, impossibly skinny blonde with close cropped hair, her friend was as round as she was tall with a mess of jet black hair.

I fished around in my school bag and found a disposable camera I’d bought to take pictures of my old friends before I left London. Luckily there were still a couple of exposures left on it, I’d been carrying it around with me ever since I’d got here in the hope I’d find something to use up the remaining film on. Now it looked like I had just the thing. I’d take photographic evidence of these two girls, I thought.

I took the photos quickly through the glass, and then slipped the camera back into my bag. Now I just had to find out what they were actually doing in the computer lab, and that was going to be easier said than done. What I needed was a distraction, something that would get them out of the computer lab long enough for me to sneak in there, then I could hide somewhere (behind the teacher’s desk perhaps) and observe them up close. As I was trying to think up a possible distraction, I heard a shout.

Snapped from my reverie, I was shocked to find the girl who had been standing up nudging her friend’s shoulder and pointing in my direction. She must have looked round and seen me staring through the window. To my horror her friend leapt to her feet and they both charged towards the door with fury in their eyes. Terrified I turned to run but in my haste to get away I tripped over my own feet and fell face first on to the tiled floor. I saw my camera fly out of my bag and scooter across the floor before disappearing under a trophy cabinet. Next thing I knew fat sweaty hands were pulling at my hair, forcing my head back.

“I’ve got her Jackie,” said the short and round girl. “Quick, get the gag in her mouth before she can raise the alarm.”

I caught a flash of red and blue – the Colour of Moriarty High’s school tie – before something was pulled tightly across my mouth and between my teeth. Nimble fingers knotted the gag tightly at the back of my head, trapping a few loose hairs as well.

“Come on Marsha,” said tall and skinny Jackie “Let’s get her back inside before someone else comes snooping round.”

I whimpered into my gag as I was half dragged, half carried through the door to the classroom. The girls forced me to sit in a chair, and I watched helplessly as Marsha emptied the contents of my school bag onto the floor. Retrieving my mobile phone from the clutter of books, pens and accessories, she held it up in front of me and crushed it in one powerful hand.
“Just in case you get any ideas about calling for help,” she said apparently having forgotten I was unable to speak. I breathed a mental sigh of relief that the camera wasn’t still in my bag, at least when I got out of here I’d evidence of what had happened.
I could see Marsha wasn’t wearing a necktie and I guessed that was what the girls had gagged me with. Worse still, Jackie was now removing her tie and Marsha took hold of my wrists, forcing them together behind my back so her friend could tie them.
I struggled and fought but they were too powerful and between them they quickly had my hands tied firmly behind my back. I sat in the chair and glared at them, determined not to let them see how scared I was.
“We need something to secure her legs with,” said Jackie “See if you can find some cable or something”
“How about her school tie, it would be a good punishment for her making us ruin ours. My old man’s gonna be furious when he finds out I’ve ‘lost’ another tie.”
Both girls laughed at that though sitting there bound and gagged I failed to understand the humour in the situation.
Marsha grabbed me by the shoulders pinning me into the chair while Jackie loosened the school tie around my neck and used it to tie my ankles tightly together.
Jackie went back to work on the computer while Marsha stood guard over me. The she-mountain pulled up a chair opposite me and looked me squarely in the eye.
“I bet you’re wondering what we’re up to aren’t you?” she asked
“Mmmfff” was about all I could say in reply but in truth yes I was very curious.
“Well I guess there’s no harm in telling you, by the time anyone finds you we’ll be long gone and our little booby trap will be set and impossible to turn off. “
I raised an eyebrow in what I hoped was a quizzical manner. I guess she understood because she continued talking.
“You see my friend over there, Jackie” she indicated Jackie who turned round in her seat and waved at me in a patronising manner, I glared back at her as defiantly as I could given my situation, “she’s developed a computer virus that is capable of completely erasing every single computer record in this school. Right now she’s installing it into one of the machines in this room, within 2 hours it will have spread to every single computer in this school. The moment any one of these computers is switched on Monday morning the virus will activate itself and within 30 seconds it will have wiped clean the memory of every single terminal in the school. What’s more it will then spread itself out across the network erasing every last file that has the slightest connection with this school. Within one hour the school will be wiped from the memory of every computer in the world and by lunchtime everyone who has ever attended this school or worked here will officially cease to exist, their identities completely purged. “
She started laughing again and her friend joined in, it was a horrible sound, so mean and spiteful. I tried to express my displeasure but tied and gagged as I was I couldn’t really get my message across, if anything my struggling and muffled protests just made them laugh more.
“Okay I’m done,” said Jackie after another 10 or 15 minutes “Let’s get out of here”
“What about Nosey here?” asked her friend pointing a fat thumb in my general direction
“Leave her where she is. She’s not going anywhere and, like you said, by the time anyone finds her my little virus will be so deeply embedded in their system it’ll take a computer genius to de-activate it.”
So that was it. They left me, sat in an uncomfortable metal chair tied hand and foot and gagged, unable to do anything. I struggled for ages but Jackie had been an expert knot tier, there was no way I was getting free of those bonds.
Exhausted I took a respite and watched the seconds tick by on a clock over the classroom door. My eyes wandered down and I found myself looking at a fire alarm set into the wall. It occurred to me that if I could reach that and set it off someone would have to come out to investigate. I would be rescued.
Luckily although the girls had put me in a chair they hadn’t had the foresight to actually tie me to the chair. Maybe I could hop across the room to the alarm. It was a daunting prospect but the alternative was waiting to be discovered and that might not be till Monday morning. Besides there wasn’t just me to think about here. I had to warn someone about the virus in the computers.
I wriggled out of my loafers figuring my socks would give me better grip on the linoleum floor; I could use my toes for balance. I managed to twist round in the seat and grab hold of one corner of the desk nearest to me with my bound hands. That way I was able to lever myself into a standing position. Once I was comfortable with my balance I began to hop, one tentative step at a time, across the room. Luckily the seat the girls had chosen for me was only a couple of rows back and so I reached the wall in a matter of minutes.
Turning round so I had my back to the wall I reached up with my bound hands and pressed the fire alarm button. Nothing happened. I pressed harder. Still nothing.
Frustrated I hopped round so I was able to see the fire alarm. It said In emergency break glass.
Ah, that was a problem. I’d thought you just had to press the glass, but you had to physically break it. There was no way I could do that with my hands tied behind my back like this. I wondered if I should lie down and try to reach it with my feet but I was afraid that if I tried and failed I’d never be able to get to my feet again.
All looked lost and I was close to tears at this point. Then, on the teacher’s desk I saw a large gold paperweight. Perfect, I thought, if that doesn’t break the glass nothing will.
I took a deep breath and hopped carefully across to the desk at the front of the classroom. Fumbling around as best I could with my hands tied behind me I found the paperweight and picked it up. Gosh, it was heavy. I was afraid I might drop it; if I did I knew I’d never manage to pick it up again.
Carefully I hopped back over to the wall where the fire alarm was. I was beginning to tire by now, my legs threatening to buckle under me but somehow I made it. Twisting round I fumbled again for the alarm and this time heard the satisfying sound of breaking glass followed by the ringing of the alarm. Relieved I collapsed to the floor and closed my eyes, waiting for my rescuer to arrive.
When I opened my eyes I saw the wrinkled face of the school caretaker looking down at me. I could hear sirens approaching and guessed it was the fire brigade on their way.
“What’s this?” The caretaker grumbled “Another stupid student prank I suppose. You’re the new girl aintcha? This your initiation rite is it?”
“Mmmm mmmmm mmmmffff” I replied before he thought to remove my gag. As he set about untying my wrists and ankles I tried again. “There’s a virus in the computer” I told him “Two girls from Moriarty high broke in and put it there. You have to get someone quickly before it spreads”
I looked up at the clock over the door; it was already 6 PM, by my estimation we had less than an hour.
The caretaker called the headmaster and made me tell my story to him, He seemed a bit dubious at first but when I said one of the girls was called Jackie he asked me to describe her. I did and that seemed to settle it, apparently she was a well known computer hacker and this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to sabotage the Holmes school computers.
“The problem is, “The head confided in me “if you’re right about the time factor, and I suspect you are, then we’re done for. Our computer teacher, Mr Baxter, is away at a conference in Edinburgh all weekend. If only we had a computer programmer less than 20 minutes from the school who could help”
“Actually sir” I ventured “I think I may know just the person”
I rang home and got mum to bring Serendipity out to the school Amazingly, she had that virus licked with seconds to spare. Did I say how much I love my kid sister?
As for me, I retrieved my camera, went home and typed up a detailed account of what had happened, handed it in to the Herald office first thing Monday morning along with the photos I’d taken of Jackie and Marsha.
Second period I got a message to see Rupinder after school. This time I took my bag with me to be on the safe side.
“I told you if you kept your eyes open you’d find a story” she told me.
I laughed “Yeah, well it wasn’t exactly the way I would have chosen to go about it but I am glad I was able to save the school”
“You’re new to this town Charlie; use it to your advantage. Keep your eyes and ears open and stories like this will come to you “
“I hope not exactly like that” I answered shivering at the memory of being tied up by those two girls.
Rupinder smiled and changed the subject. “How do you fancy being our undercover reporter?” She asked
“How do you mean?” I asked cautiously.
“You seem a sociable girl; I want you to join as many after school clubs as you can, make sure you attend social and sporting events, that sort of thing. Put yourself about and I guarantee the stories will come to you.”

If I’d known about the perils that lay ahead I’d have turned Rupinder down flat, gone home and locked myself in my bedroom for the rest of the term.

Laura’s return: Continuation of Laura’s 72 Hour Hold Part II


Part 2

Laura was still trying adjust to the new ‘cocoon’ around her so much that she didn’t notice Nurse Jodie pick up something. “Whmmmmhlllp,” Laura cried as the black hood enveloped her head. She then heard something from the nurse about not being allowed to see the route to her new quarters. On that note, Laura was literally dragged as fast as her bound ankles allowed through a five-minute walk. The hood was finally released and Laura found herself in a brightly lit room. The light was actually set at normal brightness but the walls where ultra-white, nearly dazzling Laura’s eyes. The room was rather narrow and the ceiling was only a foot above both Laura’s and the nurse’s head. It was void of any amenities except one small padding in the corner. It must be where I’ll be resting, Laura thought.

But no, Nurse Jodie instead led her to an opposite side and helped her sit down, legs bent at a 45-degree angle. The nurse peeled off a section of the wall and Laura heard a soft click. “We don’t want you to move around initially. Do stay in this position, will you? I’ll come by later when Dr. Blymire is ready.”

Laura let out a muted wail but the nurse had already exited the room, the door closing silently behind her. This is a nightmare, Laura thought bitterly. I was supposed to be cured and have a happy graduation in a nice gown, blouse, skirt, sheer pantyhose, and cute underwear. Now my clothes have been removed, I’m locked in an ultra-tight straitjacket with granny panties, ankles bound and mouth thickly gagged. All because of the series of outburst she had. Why oh why did she have them? And now what on earth will they perform on me? Cut my brain into half?

“She’s secured,” Dr Stephanie Blymire remarked and she scrubbed her hands thoroughly with disinfectant.

“She’s secured, not yet cured,” came the voice in the shadows.

“Well, let’s see how your procedures work,” Blymire said, drying her hands.

“My ideas but you’ll be the implementing it. You better perform well,” the voice threatened.

Hours later, Laura was stiff from the extremely tight bondage as well the cold temperature of her room or rather cell. Yes, Dr Blymire and Nurse Jodie has lowered her room temperature and pumped a special gas into her room. Just as Laura thought she would roll over frozen, the cell door shifted open.

“The doctor is ready for you now,” Nurse Jodie announced but Laura cry could barely be heard. The nurse signaled to someone and a hooded figure brought in a wheeled stretcher. Laura was yanked off the wall tether and the nurse checked her pulse. “Yeah, she’s fine,” she remarked and Laura was strapped down, blindfolded and wheeled out. After ten minutes, they were in another room with just a fixed armchair in the middle. Laura was helped to stand up and still blindfolded, Jodie and the orderly proceeded to undo her straitjacket. As the jacket finally came off, Jodie jammed a syringe into the back of her neck and pushed Laura to squat down, yanking away the given panties at the same time. Immediately, Laura urinated but out into a waiting pail. Nurse Jodie gave her a quick wipe, pulled up the underwear and the draped a translucent gown over her which didn’t cover breasts and hardly covered her stomach.

With the help of the masked assistant, Laura was pushed on the chair, her bound ankles attached to the bottom frame, her arms locked down on the two armrests and a latch locked around her neck, preventing her from moving her head forward. Next, they rubbed cold gel over parts of her arms, above her breasts and around neck before stick dozens of wires at the places they rubbed the gel on. Headphones were tightly attached over her head and finally a metallic band was looped around her forehead.

“Nice to see you again, Laura,” Dr Blymire appeared from another corner.

“Mmmph,” Laura grunted through the gag.

“Oh, I forgot,” the doctor brought up a tablet and tapped twice on the screen. “Don’t speak; you can’t of course but talk through your mind.”

What the hell is this?! The words flashed on the tablet screen. Why am I topless and strapped down like this?

“This is the first stage of your rehabilitation; we want to…

Get me out of this!!!, Laura gave a mmpph through her gag but the muffled cry was louder as she was electro-shocked again.

“Do I have your attention young lady,” Dr Blymire continued, not raising her voice but leaning her head forward toward the gagged girl.

Torture me, kill m… the words came on the screen but the doctor shut it off and shocked the girl again.

“I can continue doing so, Laura Granger, or you can have this examination which will cure you. Which is it?” Laura’s angry eyes closed and she lowered her head as much as the neck chain allowed.

“Very well. As you can see, I can read your thoughts via the transducer attached to your forehead so there’s no need for you to try to talk via your gag. Now, listen carefully to the voice you will be hearing. Answer the questions, in a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and answer in your mind not through gag speak. Understand?” Laura nodded. “I’ll be monitoring,” she concluded and disappeared from view.

Your name is Laura Maryanne Granger, a voice burst into her ears.

Yes, Laura thought.

Your birthday is 16 June 1991.

Yes, she replied.

You attended Harvard University.

No, Laura shook her head.

The voice continued to drone on asking wire the wires monitored Laura’s brain waves, heart beat and breathing rate. Finally, it stopped and Laura gave a cried of relief as Nurse Jodie and her assistant undid her straps. But the relief was temporary as they ‘suited’ her back up. “That’s it for now; I’ll see you tomorrow Laura. Jodie will take care of you.”

Take care my foot, Laura thought as she was again strapped down to the stretcher, blindfolded and wheeled out. Laura again found herself in another room-a canteen like place but different from that she recalled from her last visit. Jodie drew up a buckle and attached it to the back of Laura’s straitjacket before placing a bowl containing something steaming in front of her.

“I’m going to remove your gag now, no screaming or spitting or any nonsense, got it? Laura gave a muted cry and Jodie unbuckled it but let it hang around her neck. She moistened the young girl’s lips and passed her a drink via a straw. “Now, let’s get this soup in,” Jodie announced.

“I can’t feed myself?” Laura croaked.

“Obviously not, now open your mouth,” Jodie repeated.

Laura clamped it shut and shook her head. “Okay missy, time to re-gag you. I’ll leave you here instead and let you watch your meal turn cold,” Jodie said, lifting up her gag.

Laura shook her head and Jodie caught it. “Do I have to repeat my instructions again?”

“No….”

“No what?”

“No, Nurse Jodie.” Satisfied, Jodie soup-feed the young girl, occasionally wiping her jaw. The soup or watery broth was tasteless, adding more to Laura’s discomfort. “There, see? Good behavior helps,” Jodie said, wiping Laura’s lips. “Drink up,” she passed the bound girl another cup with a straw. “Can’t I have more of it?” Laura’ asked.

“Well, given your state, we don’t want you to urinate, do we?”

I want to, Laura thought silently, so she could be freed from the straitjacket. “No please, I’ll be quiet….mmmph!!!” Laura was gagged again. Blindfolded, she was wheeled out and back to her ‘cell’. Inside, Laura was surprised to see a mat rolled out on the floor in the middle of the room. Next to it were several items and Laura stared at one of them.

“Yup, that’s an incontinence brief, or as colloquially known, a diaper.”

“Mmmdiapmmer?!” Laura cried.

“Yes, you remember what the doctor said before, you do have to wear diapers; we aren’t going to let you use a toilet, not for urinating. Now, lie down.” Laura stood there in disbelief so Jodie helped her down. She restrained Laura’s upper torso then undid the straitjacket’s crotch strap and cut away the panties, shocking Laura even more. Next, she rubbed some icy-cold and sticky cream around the patient’s crotch and anus and easily turned her and slipped the crinkly diaper underneath. After the sound for four adhesive tabs, the dread device was fastened on and back when the crotch strap.

“Mmmmmmp…..” Laura wailed.

“I know it is tight but you’ll get used to it soon. Too loose and you might pee through it.” Nurse Jodie buckled her and shifted her to the same edge she was brought to earlier and Laura was again strapped down. “Have a good sleep Laura, I’ll see you soon.” With that, Jodie cleared the items and left Laura sobbing, bound, gagged and diapered.

To be Continued.

 

 

Laura’s return: Continuation of Laura’s 72 Hour Hold Part I


A continuation of Gregerbits Laura’s 72 Hour Hold, with permission from the author.

Part 1.

“Laura, Laura, can you hear me?” Those words softly entered Laura Granger’s ears and she snapped out of her drugged state. Her eyes were foggy initially, but her vision cleared in seconds. The young lady found herself in a familiar setting–it was Dr Blymire’s office! But Laura was in a very restrictive beige straitjacket and a red ball gag was clamped between her teeth. She titled her head and saw the skirt she bought for her graduation was missing and she was just in her black thin pantyhose, the crotch strap covering her the front.

“Laura, I’m going to take of your gag now, please no shouting, screaming or it will stay on, alright?” Still a bit groggy, the restrained girl nodded and she unclipped the ball gag, letting the saliva-soaked item hang around her neck. Dr Blyrmire passed a straw and water bottle and Laura sipped water to relieve her dry throat.

“Thanks,” She began, then her eyes turn to an angry look. “What the hell am I doing here again! I thought I was cured. I thought all this was over. Why am I in this freakin’ straitjacket? Why…” she struggled against the jacket, but it only got tighter. She tried to kick, but her hose-covered legs were bound with thick brown leather restraints which were also secured to the chair as well as her straitjacket.

The doctor simply held up a syringe and Laura’s angry look turned into that of a frightened animal. “Laura, please calm down or I’ll have to stun you again. Will you calm down? I’ll explain.” The doctor launched into a long speech how she learnt that Laura made various angry outburst during her college study, swore at her friends and seniors, show disrespect at various times to her professors and even counsellors and nearly burnt down the hall in a fit of rage. “Laura, I miscalculated when I diagnosed you as a bipolar depressive. You mental state needs to be re-evaluated again and mot possibly higher treatment needed. Therefore, I’ve taken the initiative to remand you back here.”

“But…but..this is unfair. I can explain all those times!” Laura protested and tried to give explanations. Dr Blymire simply pulled out sheets which were reports by her classmates and professors on her outbursts and even acts of violence. “Laura, you aren’t cured yet. You’re a danger to society…”

“But I’ve secured a job!” Laura cried then fell silent as the doctor raised the syringe.

“Your interviewer said you raised your voice at times at him and questioned him back. Laura, you will get your job, but right now you need to be cured. Here, please watch this,” she turned on a tablet and Laura’s parents appeared on screen.

“Laura honey,” her mother began, “I agree with Dr Blymire’s findings. Baby you are suffering internally, even if you think you aren’t. You need to be cured completely in order to get on with your life.”

“Sweetie,” her father added, “no father likes to see his daughter in your state but this is the county rule. I trust this doctor and I’m sure you’ll be fine in her hands after a month. You’ll be alright,” he blew a kiss.

“How…” Laura continued, “How can you treat me like this, yanking me off in public view, taking off my new skirt…”

“Laura, county rules are county rules,” the doctor argued. “Besides, you were drugged and brought out via a secluded exit. And the college chancellor also agreed with us beforehand.”

“This is a nightmare…” the young girl wailed but Dr Blymire simply changed the slides on the tablet and showed her what she would experience. Most of the words of the paragraphs were in medical terms and those were alien language to her but she spotted a several prominent words. “I…I have to be straitjacketed and gagged all the time now?”

“You are what we call a level 2 case, Laura. You’ll be kept in a straitjacket and muzzled most of the time unless the tests we given you require you to speak. As you had outbursts and you tend to raise your voice unexpectedly, ou have to be specially silenced. This won’t be beneficial for your own pysch or for the other patients here, many who would also silenced by this method.”

“But won’t this cause harm? I mean won’t my mouth be damaged or something?”

“The gags,” Dr Blymire pointed at the ball gag around here neck, “will be special. They are hypoallergenic, so it won’t cause any bacterial or viral disease and can be worn for many hours, even across days. It won’t affect your breathing; has minute air holes in it but you just won’t be able to speak. As and when you improve, we might stop your gagging.”

Laura shook her head and read on. “I have to be…in diapers?”

“We prefer the term incontinence brief. You will be in them at least at whne you sleep or when you spent long term in you room since we don’t want to undo you straitjacket all the time. Also, some of the drugs you may have to intake have strong diuretics so you will lose your bladder control, not exactly forever.” Laura had no idea what incontinence or diuretics were but was more stunned by how she would be treated.

“If there’s no other questions, we can get started,” the doctor announced.

“Wait, don’t I have to sign some sort of agreement?” She cired in last minute desperation and tried to shift in ther tight cocoon. Dr Blymire simply swiped the screen and Laura saw the signatures of her father and mother, as well as an approval by the College chancellor. Bursting in to tears, she didn’t put up much of a struggle as the doctor placed the ball back between teeth and secured it behind her head. The bonds holding her down were undone and she was swiftly carried out of the office into a side room and brought unsteadily to her feet. After hearing some talking, Laura came face to face with another familiar face.

“Hello again Laura, it’s me Nurse Jodie, hope you remember?” Laura grunted through the gag but again gave an angry look.

“Do do that Laura,” Nurse Jodie said. “Will you be calm?” Laura didn’t change her look thene received an electric shock, causing her to scream a muted scream and buckle down.

“Apologies for that, Laura,” Nurse Jodie said, helping her up. “I hope I won’t have to use that again?”

“Yesmmnurmm,” Laura responnded through the gag.

“Very well. Now, I’ve going to remove this straitjacket and put you a a special one which you’ll wear for your time here. Ok?” Laura just shifted her head as the nurse undid the straps and it came free. The nurse also knelt down to undo her leg restraints then proceeded to rub the young lady’s arms.

“Better Laura?” Laura nodded. “Right, please remove your clothing, pantyhose and all.”

“Mmmph?”

“Please remove your clothes. This time, you’ll only wear a straitjacket and underwear. The straitjacket has inbuilt bra cups.” Bewildered, Laura did so and handed the nurse her blouse and pantyhose. “Everything Laura,” the nurse gestured to the semi-naked girl.

“Plmmm,” Laura called but Nurse Jodie advanced toward her. Shivering from embarrassment, Laura unclipped her bra and tried to cover her breasts unsucessfully. Then her thong black bikini panties were lowered. “Here, you have to wear these,” the nurse handed her what looked like grany-style translucent panties. Just as those came on, the nurse ordered her to raise her hands horizontally. Bit by bit, Laura received a deja vu as a new straitjacket was wound around her. This one contained three straps tight holding her arms against her breasts, while there felt like more straps behind. Then it was completed with the painful and arousing crotch strap.

“Bend down for me please,” Nurse Jodie instructed and she attached new leg restraints for Laura. Back up, Laura felt her ball gag being unlocked. It was not freedom but rather a new gag in the form a a tube with a leather panel was inserted into her mouth and locked again behind her back.

“Please test out your straitjacket Laura,” Nurse Jodie said. It definitely felt more secure and Laura could not even move the slightest bit in the new beige straitjacket. The leg restraints looked the same but Laura felt they were much short. Surprisingly, Laura found, as Dr Blymire mentioned, that she could breathe better with this gag on but her voice was muffled even more.

“Alright, Let’s get you…” Suddenly, a beep came on Nurse Jodie’s phone. “Yes? Oh…ok doctor, yes I will.”

Nurse Jodie turn to Laura and announced, “Looks like Dr Blymire suddenly turned busy. She recommended you go you to new room room first. How does that sound?”

“Mmmm…” came the very muted reply from Laura.

To Be Continued.

 

Castle Bond


Part 1

The car finally braked to a stop. “Yay,” My younger sister Jocasta exclaimed as she opened the door on her side. “Just about time to stretch my numb legs and arms.”

“You better stretch well,” my younger brother Jaigo and the youngest in the family remarked. “It’ll be your last stretch for a long time…ow!” Jo pinched his arm.

“Stop it you two, this is a holiday, can’t you keep the quarrels away?” My mother remarked.

Both my siblings glared at each other turned their backs as they helped pull out their luggage. A sudden breeze swept through the carpark and I furiously rubbed my bare arms and legs.

“Told you to dress warmly,” mum remarked. Hey, this was suppose to be a holiday away from the dreary British winter, not one where the weather was still cold, I thought. Not replying, I yanked out my suitcase and followed my family towards the sign saying ‘Mandatory Registration Centre’. It was a short queue and next to us was a burly man in uniform. The whole place looked like that of an immigration centre.

“Ladies to the side,” he barked in a thick accent. “All ladies to the side, hands on your head.”

With our bags left with the men, we did as we were told. Nearly half an hour later, dad motioned us to a side room and simply said, “Ok, it’s time. Assume the position.” We each turned around and place our hands behind us. As soon as I did, I felt soft nylon rope draw them together and in just over a few minutes, my hands were bound behind my back. “Open wide,” I heard my brother say and as soon as I did, a thick cloth was inserted between my teeth and secured behind my back.

Ok, I’ll have to explain. This is not some weirdo family or punishment for us siblings. Rather it’s a family vacation to a mystery castle called Castle Bond in a small landlocked country in Europe near the Alps. The whole castle was built in the 16th Century and today it is a famous holiday resort with a twist: All female guests regardless of age must be restrained and gagged while in the castle. This dates back to the history of the castle where women staged an unsuccessful rebellion against the king and were bound and gagged as a punishment for months after. The current owners of this castle, the Bond family, latched on to the history and visitors across the many decades accepted the idea. My family, well particularly my sisters, use to play lots of tie up games (TUGs) with the boys my eldest sister knew. My parents, well, seemed to also partake in this sort of activity. My brother was only just introduced to TUGs when our parents caught us in the act. Instead of punishments, they admitted to us that they to played TUGs when they first met. A quick Google search revealed this place so it seemed perfect for all of us.

I tried to balance myself but it wasn’t easy, wearing heeled boots. “Ok,” my father announced as he secured the knot behind my mother’s head–all three of us were bound and gagged in the same fashion. “Jaigo, grab their bags. Let’s go, the main meeting will start soon.” My brother gave a slight remark that we over packed but dragged both our bags. Coward. Outside, other families and couples were streaming out of the centre. All ladies and girls were definitely bound and gagged in various ways with different accessories. All of them were in the company of some male or young boy. Dad had booked a large room in advance and luckily for us there was a lift; I didn’t fancy using the steps in my condition. The suite we were allocated was huge, well, my family is huge. I’ve three other older sisters who would only be joining us tomorrow. That’s Avena, 25, Imogen, 29 and Sayle, 31, the oldest and the only sister married–she would be joining us with her husband, Martyn. Jo is 20, I’m 22, Jaigo just turned 18.

“Ok, we don’t have time to fully unpack now.” He reached over and undid my bonds. “You may just want to wash your hands and change your footwear.” I brought my hands to my gag but he waved. “No, your gag stays on, remember our agreement.” Ok, another explanation: Castle rules state that all women must be bound and gagged when outside, unless they have medical issues. But inside the rooms it is optional. Since our family has played TUGs, dad ruled before hand that we would still be bound and gagged while inside our guest room, unless instructed otherwise. I head to my allocated bed and unzipped my bag, exchanging my boots for dark tights and sensible flat heeled shoes. After a quick handwash, I was back in the main common area to see my brother retying my sister. “Hands, Freyja,” Jaigo said. I’m sure you’re enjoying this, I thought as he tied my wrists behind my back again with the same rope. That was not the end as I saw both them pull up black cloths from the packets they were given.

“Whmmm?” I queried.

“They said all girls have to be blindfolded for the introductory meeting,” Dad explained and both men applied the blindfolds.The blindfold was ordinary black cloth but boy it immediately blocked out my vision. Unable to speak properly, move my hands or see, I was at the mercy of my brother as he guided both me and my younger sister back down. It was short walked through a corridor and my ears heard the noise of more individuals. Next, I felt hard surface as I was helped down on a chair. That was far from the end as I felt my ankles bound and more rope secured me to a chair. Then, someone tested a microphone and I heard a voice boom. “Ladies and gentlmen, welcome to Castle Bond….” The next two hours was an introductory speech about the castle and the main rules and regulations. Usually, I would rather read the powerpoint presentation or slides on the screen but without proper sight, I was forced to listen instead. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remember to sign up for the sessions tomorrow. We understand many of you have prior experience, but it is still compulsory to attend. With that, I wish you all an enjoyable stay.” Finally, we were released and soon back in our guest room. Since we all wanted to shower, it was bonds, blindfolds and gags off which was a welcome relief.

But soon enough, it was dinner and that was down at the restaurant below. I sauntered over to the partitioned side of of the room and looked at my suitcase. I picked out another strapped dress–I arrived in one–but this time added a thick cardigan and wore the same shoes. I wasn’t about to wear heels for my first day. “You look stunning sis,” my brother commented as he yanked my hands behind me. “Mmmmm…ph,” I grunted at his comment and the tightening of the new ropes around my wrists. Another one of rope ropes went around my waist, pinning my arms to my back. Once again, I was guided by him and my father took my mother and Jo. In the lift, a guy and what looked like his girlfriend in a strapless black and patterned dress. She was extensively wrapped with ropes all over her arms, wrists and breasts and had a cleave a OTM gag. My father and brother greeted him and I initiated eye-to-eye contact with her. I could sense she was saying, you’re lucky girl, look at how much I’m trussed up.

A few more steps and we were at the hotel’s restaurant. “Good evening sir,” the maître d greeted my father. “Table for five? Will your wife and daughters be using their hands or require assistance?”

My father immediately replied, “We will be feeding them.” What the heck?!

“Very well sir. Margo,” he called. Suddenly, a waitress with a rather short skirt and patterned tights came up to us. What surprised me was that she was gagged with a red ball gag protruding out of her mouth. Her hands were cuffed in a rather long set of handcuffs in front of her and looking down, her ankles were also encased in leg irons. “Thsmwy,” She spoke through her gag and guided us to a table. As she handed out menus only to the men, I noticed that other female staff were similarly dressed, bound and gagged. Oh my gosh, they really were serious about this bondage!

Usually, I could engross myself over the various dishes on offer but being bound and gagged and with my brother sitting opposite me, I was deprived of that. Instead, he just read out the dishes. We ladies settled on the local river fish in breaded form while the men chose steak. Such and agreement was done by gag speak. Margo, the waitress arrived with bread and expertly placed the bread rolls on our side plates despite her fetters! It was only after my brother buttered the roll did he reach over and and lower the cleave gag.

“Open wider sis,” he said and boy did it feel humiliating being fed by the baby of the family. The melting butter dripped down my chin.

“Jaigo, wipe it off.” No response. “Jaigo!” My father yelled.

“Yes, Dad.” Idiot, I thought silently. Just you wait when this trip is over.

Our main courses came and the spoon feeding continued with us ladies suffering under more humilitation. Finally,the last piece was swallowed. Dad held up my glass and I gratefully drank since the fish was quite salty. “That’s enough, you be using the loo too much.” Oh man, are you going to restrict our toilet usage just because we have to be bound all the time?

“Thnku, syammh,” our waitress remarked farewell in gag speak. Back in our room, dad allowed us to just be wrist bound but told us girls not to talk. Mum then mouth a few words silently.

“Your mother wants to retire soon. The TV can stay on, but not too loud. Don’t stay up too late; the sessions start at 10 in the morning.”

“Night dad,” my brother said then turned to us girls. Suddenly, he tackled both of us down and tied both our ankles and knees. “Hey!” Jo cried.

“Oh you broke silence, do you want to shut up or be gagged.”

We both glared at him and accepted the light hog tie.

“Now, what’s on….” he flicked on the TV Surprisingly, all channels were surprisingly in English but rather boring shows. Just over an hour later, we two girls were in bed, with our hands lightly bound in front of us and gagged with a small strip of medical tape. Thus ended the first evening in Castle Bond.

Part 2:

I was awaken by both the burst of sunlight and a hand shaking me. “Hey wake up, Freyja,” it was my Dad. “Time to rise; we’ve lots to cover today.” I instinctively tried to say “morning” but it came out as “mmrning”. It was then I saw the state I was in. But soon he undid my bindings and tape gag, giving me a sip from a bottle with a straw.

“You’ve less than ten minutes to the shower and out. Go!” It was like camp all over again and I did my best to scrub myself and stretch my limbs since I wouldn’t have the chance to do so for the rest of the day. Back out, I had barely changed back to my PJs and a bra when dad returned. Obediently, I accepted the cloth wrist bindings and cleave gag. The rest of the family was in the common dining area with Mum in her dressing gown and Jo opposite her. Both of them were also cleave gagged and from the looks, their wrists were also bound. My brother was bending down on my chair when my dad cleared his throat. “Not now.”

“But dad…”

“I said ‘not now’. Help Freyja sit.” I was glad dad didn’t want our ankles bound so early in the morning. With our gags lowered, it was spoon feeding time again. Dad had ordered a classic full English which was alright for me but not so when my brother literally shoved the food in my mouth and got the sauce and butter again on my chin. “Jonathan…” Dad scolded.

Well, it wasn’t better with the tea. First, my brother added too little milk and being told not to speak, it was hard to give corrections. Second, he nearly splash some of the hot drink on my lips. I gave up and gestured to the juice. Finally, another meal without the ability to use my hands was over. But there was not time to relax. “They said nothing special for the sessions, but girls should ideally be in skirts or dresses.” Jo gave a dejected look as she was never the skirt or dress type. “Weather is much warmer today so you can shed the hosiery. Get changed.”

I selected a thicker strapped cyan blue dress with the same bra yesterday and new black knickers. Back came rope for my wrists bindings, this tight more secure. The new cleave gag seem thicker or was it my brother’s evil plan for me? Jo, mum and me were made to knnel on the floor while our ankles were given a “leg-iron” type rope binding. “Ok,” dad said, re-checking mum’s bonds. “I’ll be heading back down to pick up Avena, Imogen, Martyn and Sayle. Jonathan,” he turned to my brother. “Watch over all. And that’s it. Not additional binding, no additional gags, no dirty play, you got it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Dad.” I hope you mean that, I thought, and luckily he did. Around fifteen minutes later, the door opened to reveal my brother-in-law, Martyn, and my other sisters. Avena was in an ankle length skirt with black ropes circling her lower torso and her wrists behind her back. Her cleave gag was was black as well. Imogen, my red-haired sister, was in a red tube top with a rather short jeans skirt. She was bound and gagged similarly but with coarse brown rope. Sayle, the married sister, was also bound and gagged in the same way, wearing a knee length translucent dress. All girls were brought down to the floor near us but Imogen emitted a “omw!” as Jon brought her down.

Dad gave him another verbal reprimand and Imogen quickly crossed her legs lest there be an upskirt. “Alright, welcome all. As you know, despite our own history and experience, we still have to attend a session which will teach us everything from basic ties to advance bondage. But as a family, we still have some major rules of our own for these few weeks of stay. One, all ladies will still be restrained and gagged in their rooms unless scenarios or orders are changed. Two, no one is to wonder off by themselves, boy or girl. All female members must be accompanied by one of us guys at all times, unless we formally allow other men to escort you. Three, we will still give toilet breaks despite the daily restraining and gagging. If you need to go urgently, say “mmmph, mmmph” loudly. Safe word for removal of restraint is “mmm” for restraint and “mmpph” with a shake for your gag. Other rules will be what they dictate and what happens as well go along. Got it?”

We girls nodded. Dad continued, “Ok, Despite the uneven ratio, here’s how it goes. I’ll take Donna (that’s my my mother) and Imogen. Jonathan, you take Freyja and Jocasta. Martyn, Sayle and Avena. Let’s go.” Jo’s ankle bonds were off and my brother dusted her black skirt. Then it was my turn with his right arm holding me and Jo on his left. Even though I had chosen flat heeled shoes, it still wasn’t easy balancing myself. Luckily, we were the only ones in the lift–perks of such a large family. Downstairs, couples and families were all heading to the conference room again, with daughters, mothers and girlfriends all bound and gagged in various fashions. Dad presented a card to the guard at the door when I spied two different lines. “Ladies this way, men that way,” the guard waved.

“But, we’re a family,” my dad protested.

“This is how it will be for the session. Don’t worry, you’ll see each other after.” Wishing us ‘bye’ and ‘good luck’ they, joined the male queue while other marshals guided us ladies. One clip tags on our left breast area. “You’ll see why,” he said as he ushered us in.

All the ladies were hustled to one corner and then men directly opposite them. “Alright, silence!” Some six-foot tall guy in faded jeans and checkered shirt said. “It’s quite simple. You all have number tags but you girls are well silenced. Each guy will step forward call out their number and the girl with the corresponding number will pair with him. Got it? Go!” It was a messy work of calling and a guy shorter than my 1.75m height was paired with me. “Hi, I’m Carter,” he said, holding out his hand then realising the silliness, withdrew it.

“Oh, pairs, step forward.” The session was about to start.

This part is inspired by sarobah’s story/stories “The resort”

***
Part 3:

I inched forward when suddenly Carter’s hand shot out. It felt cold and the grip wasn’t as strong as my brother’s. “Mmm,” I mumbled, not showing either disgust or like at the moment.

“Couples, take a seat on any part of the matted area,” the same man said and still held by Carter, we both did. I quickly crossed my legs though I guessed that there would be unintentional or forced up skirts later. “Alright all,” the guy introduced himself as Erik with a ‘k’, and he was one of the descendent of the original owners of the castle. Next to him was a girl in a spaghetti top and knee length skirt, with a OTM white gag and ropes around her busts, wrists behind her back. Erik introduced her as Karin and continued briefly outlining what was on the programme.The workshop would be divided into three two-hour sessions during the daytime, a lunch break, same format for the afternoon and a final two hour in the evening. First, we ladies were all unbound and gags off but told to be silent. The firs session was called “Basics” and that’s what it was – nothing really new to me, although I picked up a few handy hints about stuff like the best materials to use in different circumstances: rope, tape, that sort of thing. Then we were given basic gags–cleave with different cloth, cleave stuffed, OTM, OTM stuffed, tape of all kinds of tape and tape stuffed. By the end of it, Carter had me bound with a blue nylon rope and hankie stuffed in my mouth with gaffer tape over. This session also involved advice from Erik for us girls: a good warm-up is the best way to prepare yourself, physically and mentally, for a tie-up session. It helps you to relax when under stress and also to become more flexible. “You’ll be able to enjoy the TUG or bondage then,” he said. TUGs or bondage or whatever we wish to call it is like a spiritual awakening–you are denied ability to move in the world around you, your gag prevents communication and, he held up a piece of cloth, “your eysight is gone.” Yeah, back to the good ol’ blindfold, I thought, as I felt the knot against my skull. ” But when you’re cut off from the world, You discover strength in your vulnerability, power in your submission, self-reliance in your helplessness, sensuality in your suffering, ecstasy in your agony, joy in your shame, intense self-awareness in your sensory deprivation….” He droned on and on.

The final part of this session was a timed tie-and-gag session to see which team was be the fastest to get the girl bound and gagged. Erik yelled out several combinations like “cloth only” or “rope and cleave” or “rope and stuff”. While it was quite fun to race, it was also really physically taxing and many girls and women suffered rope burns. Carter wasn’t fast enough but Imogen and her parter, Donald, got third place for two combinations. “You’ll get your prizes later,” was the only comment. It was a short breaktime and water was passed around, again with us girls wrists bound behind our backs–Carter chose tape.

The next part moved to more advanced stuff like hogties. These were just with rope but with cloth. Hogties in my view are the more physically torturing as the strain muscles all over. Then, chairs were brought out and Erik taught chair ties of various forms, again with simple material. Then came out tables. “Table tie,” Erik said. “Classic in ancient and modern times for interrogation and torture.” Soon enough, my hands and legs were spread out like a starfish and tied with rope. I’ve hardly done table ties or spreadeagle ties before and it seemed just as bad as hogties. “Ok, next,” he called. But that was not a call to relax. Rather, it was time for stuff like elbow ties. We started with a fairly loose binding, which was gradually tightened until – at least in some cases – our elbows came close to contact. Of course, as we know the major attraction is not that it totally immobilizes your arms, but rather the ornamentally enhancing effect it has on your breasts. By hauling back on your shoulders it forces your boobs outwards; and for the likes of myself, not generously endowed in that department, the enforced posture is rather flattering.

Next, we progressed to the lotus technique. This is where your legs, with ankles crossed, are drawn up folded to your breasts, and you are forced to bend forward at the waist until your shoulders are between your knees and your chin almost touches your heels. A rope is looped behind your neck and tethered to your ankles to keep you restrained in your balled-up position. With your hands still bound behind your back, this is a very effective arrangement because you’re completely helpless, unable to move anything – except maybe wiggle your fingers and toes. It’s also very taxing on your muscles and joints.

The came the ball tie, which was a little more relaxing but definitely meant dresses up for many and knickers exposed for the boys to see. I’m sure Carter was aroused well before that with the various TUGs/bondage, but his face didn’t show. I strained to see the other family members. Jonathan is probably well having his briefs soaked with semen now, I thought. Sayle to Avena? I only spotted Imogen again. I was most concerned for mum–she wasn’t the kind of accept stannous bondage especially with a strange guy. Was she given some one around her age or some young squirt?

Part 4:

Finally, it was lunch time and it was a good selection of bite-size food and international fare. Of course, it was boy-feed-girl but unlike my brother, Carter was much more careful not to get any sauce or liquid on my face or chin. He gave a short introduction of himself–German on his mother’s side, American on his father’s side, taking a gap year before taking a physics degree at a top Ivy League university. Interesting but well, not really one for immediate dating. Lunch over, the stuff tape gag went back on. The afternoon was for more advanced bondage and several younger girls politely dropped out.

“Breast bondage time,” Erik announced. Ok, that’s not too bad if done properly. My partner failed to do so properly and caused me to moan (not erotic moans) from the pain. Finally, with Erik’s help, he got it right and boy did that also push my 34B boobs out. Just when I thought it was over, Erik said, “Ok now we’ll try that again, with just underwear on.” What?! But lo really, all the female folk were untied and took off their out clothing. Oh well, they did say this was the more advanced TUG/bondage part. With my hands undone, I dropped my dress to the ground, revealing my black lingerie underneath. I heard a typical boy’s “woohoo” from Carter as he rebound my wrists and started work on the second round of breast bondage. He was a little faster this time. As he finished, Erik and Karin, wearing a silky red lingerie set with exquisite breast bondage and thick OTM gag, approached. “No, this rope goes here, and tighten that knot,” he told Carter. As Carter re-did the corrections, my boobs really protruded out. I also became a little unbalanced and nearly fell down, had Carter not caught me.

“Okay, I see you you all are alright with this. Now boys, tied a overhand knot on a very long piece of rope.” Oh, what now? Next, the boys soon tied on over our bare stomach area and I knew what this was: crotch rope. I was made to lie to the side and “mmmph” Eric yanked the rope between my buttocks and pulled it tight against my knickers-clad crotch, fastening it again the waist rope. “And girls, relax.” But that was hardly an order to be followed since almost immediately, the knot pressed hard against clitoris and it soon swelled. Very quickly, it started to swell and I gave a short grunt through the gag. Then I believe the muscles there began contract there and my vagina juices started to flow out. then, “Mmmmahmm,” the orgasm came. It lasted for a few minutes and I rolled about on the matted floor as did other girls. The resolution phase came but the crotch rope did it work again and the cycle repeated itsself. All the women were rolling on the floor and we couldn’t help but collide into each other. I then spied mum in her high waist white knickers. Her breast bondage appeared looser but she had two knots instead of one for her crotch rope and boy was she moaning alot!

Erik left us girls in this erotic stage for just over an hour before he instructed the boys to remove the crotch rope. My knickers was not wet with all my vaginal juice and I myself was soaked with sweat. A quick drink and our breast bondage was removed and our outer clothes were back on. It was more advance gags time and they gave a series of ball gags, penis gags, butterfly gags, ring gags, jennings gags harness gags and all the other various adult gags around five minutes each. Erik finally said that girls could indicate their preferred gag and I nodded to the panel gag. As soon as the went on, he said, “now it’s chains time.” Oh yeah, handcuffs and leg irons! Those that they provided here felt lighter but firmer than the ones I’ve used before in my TUGs involving my sisters. Then finally it was to leather cuffs and then to plastics ties/handcuffs.

Before we knew it, it was dinner time. It was pretty rapid feeding and then the gags came back on with only a small sip of water. “Ok, we’ll let you girl’s pee, in various groups.” If you think this was normal no. Our wrists were handcuffed to our front and our legs were still locked in leg irons. If you wore a not too long dress or skirt, it might be easy to lift it up or drop it down and wipe your female private part. But for most of us ladies it wasn’t the case, so it was a huge challenge just to answer the call of nature. Back in the main room, the last session was test time. Carter still struggled with the various forms of ropes but scored high with basic gags especially tape gags and the more advanced bondage. Prizes were given out and we got runners up for zip ties and panel gags combo. Imogen got her prize from earlier and that was the end of it. “Alright, enjoy yourselves for he remainder of your stay her. If there’s any questions you can Whatsapp me at…” He gave a number and all the men folk clapped.

We were soon reunited with our own family members and retied and re-gagged in the same manner. Back in the sanctuary of our guest room, we ladies changed into casual wear. Mum as she was the night before, turned in earlier, while the male folk had to unpack the suitcases of the new arrived sisters–perks of being bound and gagged! The TV was turned on and somehow the channel was a local programme from the Castle itself. On it was a newcaster, ball gagged and handcuffed, reading in gag speak!!! We all watched before we all called it a night. This time, it was thick tape gag, and tape around my wrists–thankfully in front–and ankles. “Night sis,” my brother greeted and it was darkness.

Part 5:

I woke up to the feeling of both a dry throat and a roughly shaking hand. “Get up sis, it’s bright and early,” I heard my brother call. No sooner had he removed my gag did he clamp his hand down on my mouth. “No talking,” he hissed, and I gave my best glare at him. Why would I, I thought. He roughly brought me up, dragged me to the bathroom and told me to brush my teeth. Giving him a quizzing look, I did as told then suddenly spied the red ball gag in his hands. “Wh…” I began but he clamped his hand over my mouth.

“Dad’s orders. Every lady must be ball gagged for breakfast.” I shook my head, not believing him.

“It’s true,” my brother growled and pinched my nose, allowing him to push the dreaded ball in side and secure the gag. “Ten minutes for bath. Don’t you try remove the gag.” Shaking my head in amazement, I managed to shower. Outside, i found my brother had laid out the shortest skirt I brought and a tube top.

“Nmmm,” I shook my head. I’m not letting you dictate my dress code so early on.

“Ok, but you won’t be so lucky later on. I’ll turn around.” I made sure he did then pulled on a fresher pair of knickers, plain beige bra and normal T-shirt and jeans. At the table, all the women were similarly gagged with either red or ball black gags and wrist bound with tape. “Alright, from now on, morning shows will be taken with ball gags unless you feel ill. There’s no reason for you to talk there.” Dad finally removed our ball gags and the men–dad, my brother, my brother-in-law–feed us a cold cereal breakfast. “Today it’s a day tour of the castle. We’ll all go and and different stages of the tour, you ladies will get types of bondage.” The first one was tape. Tape was over not just my wrists but my elbows, really restricting my arm movement. The tape was was further secured with a piece of clean cloth in each of our mouths. My brother was watching over me and my other sister Avena. Dad took Jo and Imogen, my brother in law took mum and Sayle. In the lift, we met an elderly couple who looked as old as my grandparents. The lady was in a lose cleave gag and cloth bindings. The boys greeted them and downstairs, we all headed for the quite evidentlong queue. Everywhere, women and girls of all ages were bound and gagged in different ways. The young children were either cloth gagged or had loose wrist bindings or light duct tape gagging and bindings. Some young teenagers had bulging mouths, indicating that they were stuffed like us daughters. Those around our young adult age had more secure rope or even leather ties. Some chose to use plastic or metallic handcuffs, while other just did all rope. Gags for late teens and above included all kinds, from the cleave gag to the Jennings or ring gags which really tortured your jaw. Not a single girl was left unbound or ungagged. Even if girls travelled in all female groups, male staff from castle would escort them.

Dad got the tickets for the tour and us girls even had badges pinned to our breast area. “Welcome to Castle Bond’s day tour, I’m your guide Johannes,” a tall lanky man is a slight German accent greeted us. “Men, please ensure that your ladies are securely bound and gagged, especially those 12 years and above. Also, do not lose sight of your ladies. Alright, follow me.” We did so then he pointed out areas which we have seen the day before. “That’s the main entrance of the castle completed in 1600. The gate is still visible but hardly lowered and raised due to need for repair; we’ve constructed doors instead. Over there is the conference room. It was the main meeting room for King Bond and inner council during his year of reign. Major planning and dinners have occurred there.” We moved further past the restaurant my family had dinner the first night. That wasn’t around in those days. We passed by several arch ways and I was surprised to see a moat running near our feet.

“Yes, this is a moat. King Bond instructed that they channel the moat within, not around the castle,” Johannes explained. But our gagged cries were more directed towards the wooden gallows structure in the middle. “Oh, yes, that’s the King’s main display, but not if you guessed, for hanging. Rather. women would be secured to poles over there and made standing for hours while water or dirty stuff would be thrown at them. Our menfolk guided us closer and the small notice did indeed it mentioned that ladies would be bound to poles–there where several poles sticking out from the structure, making it not like a normal gallows. “Today, female guests can be secured to the structure but only regulated water sprays and wet sponges will be thrown at them.”

“Cool thingy. Can’t wait to try it out,” my brother commented. Asshole, I thought. You just love to see us sisters suffer.

Johannes then led us inside a small door where I nearly bummed my head Inside was a narrow corridor with rooms, no they were jail cells, but the bars were shiny. “The King and the knights would bring captive girls, and sometimes men, and lock them up in the cells, still bound and for the ladies, gagged. “Cuffs were rare in the early days, but soon iron fetters were available.” As we moved closer, we saw the inside of the cells contain either a plain wooden bed with metallic cuffs on four corners or a single chair, also with cuffs at the front legs and arms rests.

“These are modern tables and chairs, but yes, if the women had committed serious crimes, there was no need to go through court, they would be sent down here and locked to either the chair or table. This would happen for nearly 24/7, with only breaks for food and the toilet. Today, females can either be restrrained to the table or chair for a period of time, or you can request them to be removed and try your own different restraints and gags there.”

“Great!” My brother said and Jo and I gave him an annoyed glare.

“Break time,” Johannes said. “Five minutes and we’ll resume the tour.”

Part 6:

Dad, my brother-in-law and my brother approached us bound and gagged ladies. “Ok, gags off first then we’ll all give you a drink, then it’s ropes and undies and tape gag.”

Undies? I thought. Oh yes, knickers or panty gags. But this thought was interrupted as I saw my brother approach. Please don’t…he peeled off the adhesive gag slowly but there still was the sting and quite possibly a red mark. He eased out the saliva-soaked cloth and I coughed in response.

“Sssh, no talking.” I wasn’t you fool, I thought but gratefully accepted the bottle of water to my lips. It wasn’t exactly cold water not did it taste like the mineral water I knew but it was a grateful quench of thirst.”That’s it; don’t wanna make you pee.” I glared at him but he simply moved and cut away the bonds around my arms and wrists. I expected to get time to rub the circulation back but nope, he immediately tighten cotton ropes around the same area and before I knew it, I bound tightly again.

“Less than two minutes before we begin again folks,” Johannes called.

“Open wide sis,” my brother said and I noticed something bunched in his hand. I shook my head but knew it was inevitable. The cotton undies were jammed in and not one bit protruded out. Ripp! came the sound and soon enough, two strips of the same tape sealed my undies inside. “They are your beige ones, picked out from your suitcase when you were sleeping,” he added. Asshole, asshole.

I turned and saw dad slap the same tape on mum’s lips. “Alright people. Gentlemen; gather your ladies, the tour is about to begin again.” Once more my brother’s hand grabbed my arm and I was quite helpless as we moved off into a larger room. Inside were several tables but clearly, they weren’t for eating or decoration. They did have ropes or leather straps connected to them. “This is the rack chamber,” Johannes started. “The King and his inner circle would bring ladies charged with any offences here, strip them to their underwear or naked, and interrogate them until they confessed. For some strange reason, this chamber is the first phase before they bring the confessed ladies to the rooms you saw earlier.”

“How do they interrogate them?” One guy asked.

“For the minor offences, it was simply verbal questioning and humiliation. For serious offences, cold water, heated objects were used. For even more serious,” he gestured to another set of tables. “Whips and various devices would be struck.”

“Wow, wee…” my brother breathed. “Can we actually…”

“Jaigo, we aren’t in the business of making of humiliating the ladies or torturing them.” my father growled. Yeah that’s right little boy, don’t you dare try to strap me to that.

“We do allow ladies to be restrained to them in their lingerie,” he remarked, mispronouncing the last word. “But if you go naked, you must sign a consent form. And we monitor activities at all stations. Our staff will step in my we suspect action that is too extreme.” That didn’t make me feel any better.

“Over here is something rather new but similar,” our guide continued and we entered what really looked like a medical operating room. Inside were four metal tables, with medical restraints and medical instruments by the side.

“This is a modern addition; the kingdom naturally wasn’t that advanced. As the room suggest, this is for medical play. As before, ladies and well gents must sign consent forms if they want to be naked and no excessive play will be allowed. Both these areas are off limits to children and young teens.” I heard couple of muttering of affirmative. No way should that happen.

We moved out into day light and by now, my knickers–the one in my mouth–was definitely soaking with all my saliva. It had not dried out my throat yet, but I guess that would change shortly. Johannes asked us to move single file along the walkway. Mum moved first, her mouth bulging with her high waist undies–I could see part of it stick out of her mouth. Dad followed after her. Next was Sayle with her husband steadying her, how cute. The red-headed Imogen, then Avena, then me and Jocasta, with my brother behind both of us. A couple of minutes later, I heard Johannes mention something when, WHUMP! I bumped into a frame.

“…careful of the arch way, it’s short.” Thanks for saying that after it happened, I groaned in my head and through the panty gag.

“Hey, you alright?” I turned to see….

TBC

Author’s note: Some earlier chapters have been updated and some will be updated soon. Thanks.

Part 7:

The two figures were a guy and a young girl, prehaps a pre-teen or young teenager. The guy who spoke was one huge chunky person. I judged him to be at least 18cm with muscles bulging out from his short sleeve shirt–not exactly what most men and boys were wearing here–and faded jeans. He was a blonde guy with blue eyes  but hey, I don’t mind sterotypes. His female companion was in floral dress with white bra straps visible and wearing three-quarter leggings. As with all girls here, she was bound and gagged but with a simple grey duct tape gag and hands bound with similar material behind her back.

“Hi, I’m Jonathan Powers, but every one calls me Jon. You alright?”

“Mmm,” I said through the stuffing and the gag. I was more mesmerized by his looks and my response was rather ‘wow, you’re damn hot’.

“Oh, this is my cousin Melissa,” he pointed at the girl who tried to smile using her eyes. My brother, father and brother-in-law introduced themselves while we gagged ladies just nodded our

 

Secondary School Tie Up Games: The Various Rules


The four boys looked at the four chair-bound and tape gagged young school girls. “Ok girls,” announced Yan Long your aim is to struggle free of your bonds. And please, try not to the chairs. Your time starts…now!”

The four girls from the famous Singaporean schools started struggling wildly and emitting muffled cries as they tried to struggle out of their bonds. As they did so, they parted their legs, revealing their PE shorts underneath, except for Shirleen, who flashed her underwear. Su Ying was to first to get free but the four boys shook their heads when she attempted to remove her gag.

“Mmmmphbl…mmph!” She cried as her brother held her tight and re-bound her wrists with duct tape. One by one, the other girls, starting with Laura, then Huiling and finally Shirleen broke free but were similarly bound by the other boys. The girls were dragged to the floor, made to sit cross-legged and only then were their tape gags gently peeled off.

“Let us go!” Su Ying shouted, particularly in the direction of her brother.

“I’ve enough of this!” Cried Huiling partly in Mandarin.

“I also didn’t ask for this! Get this off!” Shirleen said, closing her legs tightly, lest she flashed herself again.

Laura echo her friends’ protests, wanting to shout some swear words.

“Clearly, they are lovely captives, are they?” Victor remarked.

“You girls keep it there; we still need to formalise the rules,” Yan Rong said, pulling up his laptop and opening up a new Word document.

“What rules? I need to go to my chess try outs now!” Su Ying cried but her brother ignored her.

“Ok, rule 1, we all agree to have these Captor-Captive games often…”

“No,” Huiling countered. “Only when we girls feel like it…”

“No, no, let’s make a deal. When we are all free,” Charles interjected.

“Ok, Rule 1: We play when we’re all free. Should we set up a WhatsApp group?”

“Can we please get a move on….mmmpph!” Su Ying’s protest was shut off as Guoyun taped her mouth again.

“No WhatsApp; I don’t get that much privacy even with phone. Text or WhatsApp, no group,” Shirleen argued.

“Ok. Rule 2: What sort of binding or ties and gags?”

“Tape is icky,” Laura twisted her bound wrists.

“Icky in your mind,” Victor countered. “Tape should be ok. But as we did, slowly peel it off.”

“Yes,” Huiling said, “I don’t want red marks,”‘ she continued in Mandarin.

“Tape ok. Cloth we can get. Rope maybe, after all, I’m a Scout,” Yan Rong smiled as his sister gave him an evil look.

“That’s enough,” Laura said, dreading on evil restraints. “I don’t want you to treat us like slaves.”

“Or we’ll bound you guys,” Shirleen added.

“Fat hope,” the boys remarked in unison.

“Rule 3: What do we do when they are bound and gagged?”

“No looking up our skirts or uniforms!” Huiling cried. The other girls, including the gagged Su Ying, agreed.

“Well that can’t be helped,” Yan Rong smirked. “We’ll….”

“At least not often and warn us in advance!” Laura cried. “I rather wear all shorts or jeans for this. Or maybe make it a rule that we girls wear shorts underneath….” All eyes turned on Shirleen who blushed a deep red.

One by one, more rules such as no nudity–the least is down to swimsuit/bikini or bra and panties, no sexual activity, no adult-type equipment, no acts of torture, safe words for pain and needed to get released and many others. Nearly one and half later, they decided on ten major rules and finally the girls were released.

The rules:

Rule 1: Games should occur only when everyone (both boys and girls) are free and not bogged down with studies of CCA or stuff. Warning should be made in advance.

Rule 2: Restraints: Can be tape, cloth, rope or any related material that is easy to acquire and hide. Gags: Cleave, stuff, tape etc. No adult stuff, no hard-to-remove items.

Rule 3: Captives (usually the girls) should just be bound and gagged. Simple play like tickling (SY, Huiling object to), water/ice on skin, soft touching is allowed. Comments but not derogatory will be allowed. Absolutely no sexual acts of sex, no nudity (down to bra and underwear or swimwear is the most) is allowed and no violence.

Rule 4: Alongside 1,2 and 3, safety is the utmost priority. If any captive objects or cannot withstand it, she (yes usually she) should give three sharp yelps (if gagged) or cries or tap the surface three times. Captors must release and ungag them at once.

Rule 5: This is not just uncommon but unheard of. No one else, parents or siblings or classmates or friends must know about these tie-up games unless the group agrees to allow them in the game.

Rule 6: As with 3 and 4, when capturing a girl (less so if it is for boys), there should be no excessive violence so as not to create any injury.

Rule 7: Dress code: Since girls are (usually) warned in advance, they may often be captured in what they are wearing and usually it is their school uniform. Up skirting will be allowed (all four girls protest) but not recommended all the time.

Rule 8: As with 5, privacy and secrecy are highly important. Games can happen in anyone’s homes, provided that no one else is around although locations might change.

Rule 9: As with 1, 5, and 8, the length of games should be varied so as not to disrupt schedules, especially school work. If victims or captors have to suddenly head off to tuition or back to school, the game will be over

Rule 10: As with 2, so far participants are thirteen to sixteen years old and thus will not play with any adult stuff or perform any adult acts. As they grow older, this might change.

“I need to pee!” Cried Shirleen, as she ran towards the Tan’s toilets. Huileen also followed her while Laura was the first to exit the residence, grumbling about her hair and sore wrists.

“Argh…” Su Ying moaned as she peeled off the duct tape and the boys helped to collect and throw away the tape and rearrange the chairs. Just then her phone beeped.  The message read:

Chess try outs: Congratulations to the following girls…She scrolled through the list, her eyes burning with anger for missing this out. As she read the names, Su Ying then relaxed; many of those weren’t friendly class or schoolmates and she wouldn’t want to be with them anyway.  Another message flashed on her screen.

Positions open in the Girl Guides. Reply ASAP.

Oh yes, she said, sending a reply. I wanna get back at Yan Rong for this. Girls Guides would be the answer.

End.

 

 

The Preventive Program


“Mom, No! No! No!” I screamed as the car turned into the carpark.

“This is exactly why you need to go through this tour Cathy.”

“But I’m not insane! Dad!”

“Your mother’s right, Catherine. It will help correct you and make you lady,” Dad replied as he parked the car. I resisted and mom had to unbuckle me from my seat and drag me out of the car into the grey-colored building. I continued my verbal protest as my parents signed forms at the receptionist counter and I was guided into through double doors and found myself, minus my parents in a large waiting room. There were three other girls, one brunette, one red-head and one Asian. The brunette was in skin-tight slacks and a tube top, the redhead in jeans with holes and a T-shirt with rock stars stenciled on it and the Asian girl like me, in a skirt and blouse.

“Good afternoon to all,” came a voice from the side. We all turned to see a nurse with the nametag ‘Marie’ and an army of additional nurses behind her. “Welcome to Woodcock’s Mental Institution Treatment Preventive Program. You all are here because your families believe you have some psychological issues that well are not at the stage for treatment. Instead, what you’ll see here…”

“Is a place for loonies,” the brunette interrupted, stepping back.

“I’m not in the mood for interruptions,” the Nurse shot back. “As I said, in this Preventive Program you have a quick ‘tour’ of the whole Institution to see how female mental patients are treated. You get a whirl-wind experience of what it is like to be a patient here and the treatment patients undergo. By the end of the tour, you hopefully will see that it is better to correct your attitude and…”

“This is shit. I’m outta here,” the brunette interrupted again but as she turned around, one of the nurses pulled out a syringe and jammed it into her heck. She immediate shivered and collapsed down, unconscious.

“…. That it is better to correct your attitude and lifestyle than to be condemned here for long-term treatment.” We all were more shocked by the treatment of the girl than the last words. The brunette was carried out by a few nurses but a snap by the head nurse fingers drew our attention back.

“First, we’re going to put this straitjacket on you,” She held up a mass of thick canvas, straps and buckles that magically appeared in her arms. It was modeled on the Posey straitjacket model. I’ve seen one before on TV.

“Wha…” the Asian girl, named Yan Ling, started then remembering what just happened, closed her mouth.

“This is for everyone’s safety, including yourself as patients or guests, and the staff. All patients are placed in straitjackets 24/7 to prevent physical assaults and any escape. “Next, we will put this leg restraint around your ankles, so you can’t kick people and run away.” She held up two thick brown leather cuffs with locking straps, attached by two leather straps which looped through metal slots on the cuffs.

“And finally, since silence is required for all patients to prevent verbal assault and unnecessary conversation, we need to put this muzzle on each of you.” She held up a sealed plastic bag, inside was a large panel device with a protruding, threaded knob and an assortment of leather straps attached.  “This will fill your mouth without causing unnecessary strain. It is also hypoallergenic so it can be worn for hours without changing.”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” the redhead exclaimed in horror. “This is too much. What if we get any complications?”

“We all are trained nurses and all of you are listed as healthy according to your medical records. No patient has suffered any ‘complications’ while in a straitjacket and gag here for the past twenty years. Ok, I think questions will be answered later during the tour.” She motioned to the junior nurses and at least four of them surrounded each of us.

“Let’s get started. First, straitjackets can’t be worn in your states. Jeans, pants, skirts, whatever bottoms off. Now!” Shocked by the army-like order and what we would be going through, we all complied, and I dropped my skirt to reveal my skimpy blue panties. We were ordered to place them in on big plastic bag.

“Everyone, hold your arms and hands out straight, keeping your fingers together.” The nurses next to me guided my hands to the proper position. At the same time, they used their legs, forcing my feet to spread out. “I’m going to slide the straitjacket over your arms, and the orderlies will hold it closed as I fasten the straps.” Nurse Marie announced, stepping close to me. “Keep looking forward and do not move your arms or legs. Am I clear?”

I nodded, now really frightened. As Nurse Marie advanced with the straitjacket, the other nurses removed their grip around my hands and grabbed my elbows. The nurse slid the jacket sleeves over my forearms, and the other nurses quickly grabbed the jacket and quickly pulled it back over my upper arms and shoulders. They held the jacket firmly with both hands and began fastening all the back straps. She pulled the top two straps through the buckles to keep my arms inside the sleeves, and then started from the bottom of the jacket, pulling each strap snugly as she wanted the straitjacket to fit my torso properly. Once the nurse was satisfied with her work, she began re-tightening each strap causing the strong material conform to my body shape. After readjusting the bottom strap, she crouched down and reached through my legs to a wide strap dangling from the bottom of the jacket. I had just noticed this strap and was wondering about its use when the nurse yanked it back between my legs and fastened it to a buckle sticking out between the two bottom back straps. I had been given wedgies before in school and for fun but this one was worse than those!

Nurse Marie walked back around in front of me. “Cathy, please lower and bend your right arm at the elbow.” They know my name, but that was hardly comforting. I did so and the nurse pulled the right sleeve through the wide loop below my breasts and fed it through another, thinner loop on the side, and one orderly grabbed the sleeve as it came to my back. She did the same for her left arm, adjusting the arms crossed in front of me. Nurse Marie went around my back again and fastened the two sleeve straps. When they were done, my forearms seem to disappear behind the wide front loop. The nurse then took each strap on the jacket, stuck it through the belt loop on the corresponding buckle strap, and threaded it back though the buckle, to make them even more difficult to loosen.

“Cathy, please try to move around to see if we need any more adjustments,” the nurse ordered. I first tried to raise and lower her arms but couldn’t get more than an inch in either direction before running into the loops on the front and sides. I then tried moving my arms apart, but the orderlies’ skill and strength in removing slack made that equally futile. I bent backwards and forwards, but the tightly fastened thick canvas made it impossible to curl her spine, so I could only bend at her hips. But this action had a big drawback, as the wide crotch strap rubbed against my clit giving me a quick arousal. “I can’t move at all! This is insane!” I protested.

The nurses ignored my protests as one bent down and attached the leg restraints. Ow! Nurse Marie then retrieved the bag and tore it open, revealing the muzzle.

“I’m going to place the muzzle on you now. Open your mouth as wide as you can.” As I bit down on the foam tube, it completely surrounded by mouth. The foam would expand back into its original, onerous dimensions and compressed my tongue completely. Two straps coming from the front of the mouth panel were fastened behind my neck to keep the gag–I preferred the term gag–firmly in place.

All around me, the other two girls were bound, cuffed and gagged similarly. “Everyone done? Good. Now, single file, Cathy first, Claire second, Ling, third.” We were arranged so by the nurses and guided through another set of double doors leading into a narrow corridor. We all shuffled along, oh our footwear was removed as well. As we did so, the crotch strap dug deeper and deeper against my clitoris, giving me another set of arousals.

We entered another open area and from a side appeared the brunette, guided by a trio of nurses. She was similarly restrained and gagged like is, but there was a thick blindfold over her eyes and her underwear was rather thick. “Put her behind the rest and really watch over her,” Nurse Marie instructed.

“As you can see,” she began in a tour guide-like voice, “the nursing staff are all female. As for doctors, some are male but there has never been a case of sexual assault against any patient or staff since this institution was founded.” Yeah, yeah, I thought. She could be bluffing. We walked on and passed some nurses and patients some patients escorted by one nurse, others by two. All were straitjacketed and gagged like us but the straitjackets wear of different colors. Two of them were tape gagged instead of the panel gags we had on. The redhead Claire asked a question through her gag.

“The different colored straitjackets indicate the level of patients. White are low-risk. Beige or brown are medium-risk. Black is high-risk but high-risk prisoners aren’t allowed to move around. As for the tape gags, well, if the doctor deems the patient has improved, they get tape gags instead. But for your case, you’ll all get the panel gag.” Wonderful. Such special treatment, I thought. We entered another open area where they were several tables and chairs, fixed to the ground. Girls, similar to us, were seated there, with nurses standing nearby and what looked like guards with batons at the sides.

“This is the social area for low to medium-level patients,” Nurse Marie whispered. “Sometimes, not every girl is isolated and we give them time to mingle together to get them a field of how society is.” I peered closer and noticed each girl had some hairband-like device placed on their head and tablets attached to the tables.

“Obviously, they can’t talk properly. So those bands transfer thoughts from their heads into words on the tablet screens.” Fascinating, I thought but shuddered, realizing I could have been one of these girls. “Whtmmmthdmmm?” The Asian girl asked.

“Oh, you see those? Your friend Freyja here is also wearing. Diapers. A good majority of patients who stay for the long haul are placed in diapers.” I then looked at the brunette again and yes, she had a diaper taped over her. But wait, there was also something else. “Diapered patients also are made to wear plastic panties to prevent any leaks. You’ll find out more later. Move along.”

We were brought to another narrow corridor and all the nurses held fingers to their lips. “This is the high-risk row of cells. High-risk patients are those that suffer from extreme mental disorders and sometimes face treatment than last extremely long or can’t be cured. High-risk patients are kept in their rooms with no interaction with others and minimal movement daily. Do no utter a sound, even through your gags.” We moved slowly along until Nurse Marie halted us and swapped an ID card against a card reader twice. We were brought inside an empty cell with a narrow pad at one corner.

“This,” she whispered, “is what it looks inside. The patient is strapped to a mattress fixed on the ground. She doesn’t get to move up until it is feeding time and gets only one hour of controlled exercise each day. She’s diapered full time. You,” she gestured to the redhead. “Come and demonstrate.” The petrified girl was laid down and the nurses strapped her in. “This is how high-risk patients remain for years. Do you want this treatment?” We all shuddered.

Another step away, we were brought into an even smaller cell. The was no mattress and the walls were painted black.

“This is the suicide watch cell,” Nurse Marie said. “We have two and getting more. Basically, any girl who exhibits suicide-like tendencies is brought here. She’s strip naked, attached to cuffs,” she pulled down one to show us, “and kept standing or even cuffed to the wall. We keep them naked and there’s only this,” she pointed to a small hole, “for body relief.” All of us emitted scared muffled tones. “No, we won’t demonstrate.” Phew.

Next up was the medium-risk cells. The doors were thick and no windows were visible, but one slot was pulled open and we all took turns to peek in. Some girls were sitting in corners, slouching. Others were moving wildly about while some were kicking and banging their heads against the wall. “You can see why they are medium risks. Some of them don’t get the luxury of interacting as shown just now. It all depends on your behavior,” she particular looked at the blindfolded and diapered brunette.

Finally, it was the low-risk cells. Like the medium-risk, they had thick doors, small eye slots and padded walls. Girls inside were straitjacketed, some gagged, some tape gagged some not gagged or leg-bound at all. “Much better behavior,” the nurse explained, “but still we don’t give them any prizes. You’ll all experience this later this evening.”  What?!

We were brought to what looked like an exercise hall. Some patients were walking or running around while others were given specific leg exercises. “You all can try this. Even her,” she gestured to the blindfolded troublemaker and her blindfold was removed. So, for the next hour, we were made to run several rounds around the track. It was really difficult with my arms bound against my boobs. By the end, I was so sweaty under the thick straitjacket and the blouse I wore. Shit, I want a change now!

But that would have to wait. It was already time for dinner time as we were sat separately at a table. “All patients are spoon-fed by nurses. As time goes on, if they improve, they may get to use their hands to feed.” A mixed African American and Spanish nurse removed my gag fed me some thick gravy-filled dish and quite tasteless juice.

“Ok ladies. We’ll give you time to use the loo. One by one. Of course, except you,” she pointed at the diapered girl. I was the first in, and boy, it was great to be free of the jacket and rub my sore arms. Still it was a rushed call and soon enough we were restrained again.

“We want to show you the other parts but apparently they are quite occupied. So, to your rooms you go.” We were all brought up back to the low-risk set of cells and each of us were deposited into a room. As described, it was padded, white all over, with one mattress on the floor and nothing else. Not even a toilet bowl. The nurses there left me, leg restraints undone but said I would be watched by a CCTV hanging from the wall. How little privacy we get, I thought. Left alone, I tried to walk about but with my hands strapped in front, I lost my balance and fell so many times I gave up. As I laid on the ground, I started cry. I never cried much before. I would always let my emotions out by shooting or throwing stuff until physically stopped by my parents or the police. Oh my gosh, would I really be condemned to this place? Am I a lunatic? Have I lost my mind?

I don’t what time it was later when I heard the cell door open. Nurse Marie and the same nurse who spoon-fed me came in. “Time to sleep Cathy,” the head nurse announced. Ok, why not let my crawl to the mattress? Then I saw what was in the junior nurse hand.

“Mmmmwht?” I cried through the gag.

“It is compulsory. We have limited staff on duty at night and we don’t get patients or guest out for the toilet. Hence the briefs.” Briefs my foot, those are diapers. Used by kids! I tried to protest further but remembered how the other girl was treated. The crotch strap was undone and my panties were pulled off. Some icky cream was smeared over my private part then the diaper taped on and plastic panties added. The straitjacket was re-secured and instead of the thick, a tape gag was replaced.

“It’s only for the night. But have a good sleep.” How to have one? I’m straitjacketed, gagged and now diapered.

The next day

Again, I had no idea what time it was when the nurse woke me up. My gag was exchanged back for that thick panel gag and out I came, legs bound again. Strange, none of the others were nearby. I was brought to what looked like a shower area. Yeah, finally a shower, I thought.

“I’ll be helping you. No resistance please.” But how on earth could I resist bound and gagged? She undid the jacket, tore away the plastic panties and the diaper which to my horror was urine-stained, and took off the rest of my clothing. Made to stand and still gagged, I squealed as water then soap and again water was squirted all over me. Then I was brought to a nearby table.

“Dimmmprs?” I cried again.

“Nurse Marie’s orders. Don’t resist.” Within minutes I was diapered again, plastic panties on and then bra back on. “I think this is too thick for you, no?” She held up my blouse. So just the straitjacket was tightly strapped back on. Brought back to the food hall, all the other girls were already there. Freyja was there as well, her blindfold removed. We all ungagged again were spoon fed some oatmeal and then lined up again in the same order and brought to an area with were a door marked ‘NEURO EXAMINATION ROOM’.

“This where they hook wires to the heads of patients, lock the patient’s head in a metallic football-like helmet and keep you tightly restrained to a chair for hours. They analyze your brain cells, neurons or whatever. One reason why you wear diapers,” She padded my backside. Bitch, I thought silently. Moving on, we moved to a narrow catwalk. Below was a chamber shaped like a tomb but at the side where men dressed in lab suits busy monitoring computers. Wires from these computers were fed into the tubes. Wait a minute, I’ve seen this in….

“Yes, for those of you who have watched, this is sensory deprivation tank, just like in the TV series Fringe. Patients are made to wear skin-tight body suits and floated in a tank with high percentage of salt. They are drugged so that they are forced to sleep while again their thoughts are processed. It helps the doctors to gain a true background of patients.” Yikes, I thought. I hate floating in any water, and definitely don’t want my thoughts to be known to another person.

The third chamber was also a tank of water where a girl naked with only cloth around her breasts and crotch was laid in. This time, a IV drip was added besides the wires. “That contains a special mixture of drugs to change one’s disturbed thoughts slowly over time,” Nurse Marie said. “Sometimes, it takes several days of lying there before the patient improves.” We again all shuddered at the sight.

I thought we had seen enough but no, we were brought back again to the area where patients interacted with each other. I was sat down opposite another blonde-haired girl, with patient number stenciled over her jacket. Tablets were placed down in front of us and the hairband-like devices were placed over our heads.

Hi? I saw on the screen. Ignore the number on my jacket. My name is Abi, don’t say Abigail. Yours?

I thought in my head and mumbled through my gag. Cathy, I answered.

“No noise through your gag. Only va your thoughts,” came the orders.

Abi: I’ve been here for two years. You’re with this program eh?

Cathy: My…my parents brought me here. They wanted to change my attitude. I didn’t expect it to be like this! I flexed my arms as much as I could.

Abi: It sucks. After a while, I try to ignore it but it still sucks. What did you do? Scream the house down?

Cathy: Just get angry almost everytime. Broke some furniture. Ran into the police several times.

Abi: I was angry and shouted every day since twelve. They say something is wrong with part of my brain. I don’t believe but I’ve stopped my anger lately.

Cathy: What do they do you? Drugs?

Abi: Oh, some mind exercises. Scenarios. But at first some serum. It really was torture.

Cathy: I saw the cells and patients and how the nurses treat us. That’s torture.

Abi: Then you really shouldn’t be here as one of us. I’m hoping to get out soon but it’s never a time you want here.

I looked at here and sucked the ball between my lips hard. Thanks, I hope you do soon. It’s really moving to hear your story Abi.

We chatted a few more minutes until Nurse Jodie said time was up. Oh my gosh, I wish I could hug her, I thought, as she was escorted away. We all were made to walk around the exercise arena again before being brought in for lunch which was soup. “We’ve actually move quite fast,” the head nurse declared. “We’ll let you people rest here for a while, but don’t try anything stupid.” How could we? We’re all bound gagged and diapered.

“Itmmmhurribmm,” The redhead Claire started through her gag.

“Agmmmree,” the Chinese girl said.

“Uhmm,” I nodded trying to find a comfy way to sit. But with a diaper, plastic panties on and crotch strap digging in, it was quite impossible.

“Wemtreammlikellonnies,” Freyja commented, her eyes indicated hatred.

“Wemmmbeoutmmmoon,” Claire argued.

“Bullmmmhit,” Freyja responded.

“Beposmmmtive,” Yan Ling added.

“Fummmm,” Freyja swore loudly. How the hell could her voice be raised through this gag, I wondered.

“Watch it,” one of the nurses nearby warned.

“Fummu,” Freyja cursed her and miraculously managed to stand up. The two nurses on duty tensed and advanced towards her. With all her strength, Freyja lunged towards them, head-butting one of them. An alarm blared and other nurses, including Nurse Marie barged in. The rebellious girl was sedated and carried out once more.

“Ok, rest of you, out. You have to spend your time in your cells.” We all gave muffled protests but it was useless. Back in my cell and legs bound again, I sat against the hard mattress and cried once more. Just let this whole thing end. I want to be a good daughter, a good girl….

I must have drifted off again as the door clicked open. How long was I asleep? I don’t usually take afternoon naps. “Hey, time to move Cathy,” the junior nurse stated. I mumbled a reply but instead of lifting me up, she bent down and undid my crotch strap.

“Mmmph?”

“You wet yourself. Besides, where we’re going you won’t want to wear a diaper.” Oh shit, I really wet the diaper again! The nurse took it off, wiped my crotch with wipes then helped me into some plain white boxer-like briefs. I was then brought up and escorted yet through another maze of corridors until I was brought into an office. It was just a normal medical office with charts on one wall and medical certificates on another.

“Thanks, Jeanna, I’ll buzz when I require you.” I turned to see a moustache-ed man, around 6 foot tall. He locked the door, pressed a couple of buttons and lights at the side came on. Only then did he reach over to undo my gag and passed me a sip of water.

“Thank…you, Doctor?”

“Barnes. Catherine Granger right? Sorry we can’t shank hands.” Yes, I bet you are sorry.

“Hi. Uh, what’s this? Is this going to be medical examination.”?

“Ho, oh no, no. I would be meeting you in a different circumstance.” Now, what would that be?

“So, what is this?”

“It’s more of a ‘getting-to-know-how-you’re-doing’.”

“Well, besides being restrained, gagged and well embarrassed, I’m ok.” I didn’t want to describe how it was being diapered.

“How do you feel now having seen our institute?”

“I…it was really scary Doctor. I don’t know if you were meant to scare us, but boy, it’s a horror movie out there.”

“And how is it now to you. Do you wish to vent your anger?”

“No, actually last night, I think want I wish a fresh start to my attitude.”

“Very nice,” was his only reply. It is a doctor thing?

“Can I ask what’s happening now and later? Are the other girls also being questioned like this?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Oh. What about that girl uh Freyja.”

“She’s going to spend a little more time with us, but you shouldn’t worry about her. You’ll get to stay here a couple more hours and then you’ll be home.”

“Oh, thank you.” I suddenly teared up. He reached over and wiped my tears. How kind. I never experience such kindness before.

“Can I ask another question?” He nodded. “What’s going to happen to that girl Abi?”

“Oh yes, you and her. Abi’s making some improvement but slow. That was quiet and unexpected bonding you two had. I can’t give a date when she’s out, also for security reasons I can’t give details. But she’s fine.”

“It’s good to know. Any chance of visiting?”

“We don’t allow; only family members. But you may see her again; I just can’t say when. Anything else?”

“Well,” I flexed the straitjacket again. “I guess you can’t…”

“Rules are rules. I’ve seen girl’s plea and we tried once or twice but it wasn’t helpful. But since you’ve been well behaved,” he reached under his desk and tore open a cloth. “Mouth open please.” I reluctantly did so and to my surprise, the cloth felt quite comfortable inside my mouth. But he also tore two pieces of tape, sealing the cloth in.

“I trust you won’t emit much sound; naturally it’s not as strong as this,” he held up my old gag and tossed it in a nearby bid. The nurse can back in to collect me. “Best of luck Cathy,” he said and I gave a nod and muted reply of thanks.

I found myself back in the original waiting area with Claire and Yan Ling. Clearly, they were either treating Freyja or she was restricted somewhere. All three of us were out of diapers and plastic panties and in the issued boy shorts. Ling and I were taped gagged while Claire was still in the panel gag–did they not think she was well behaved? Our meet up and muffled greetings were cut shot as they produced a portable DVD and with earphones on, were shown a clip further describing the history of the institute. It was rather boring and I nearly feel asleep until Nurse Marine snapped her fingers. Our original clothes were brought out and yay! Off came the straitjackets and the leg restraints. I gleefully done my sexy panties and skirt and less than an hour later, they removed my gag and I rushed into the waiting arms of my parents, swearing to both never to lose my temper or shout at them again.

Few months later

I rang the doorbell. “Hey Cathy, thanks for doing this,” The elderly woman said.

“It’s ok, Mrs. Winston, have a good trip.”

She smiled and I promised to email or skype her later. I head upstairs and didn’t have to knock since the door was partly opened. Inside was Abi, the girl I met during the ‘Preventive Program’ I went through. Abi was in a white straitjacket, gagged with a panel gag and ankles cuffed with leather restraints. As expected, she was also wearing plastic panties and diapered.

“Abi? Hi, it’s me.” In agreement with the Institute, Abi could be released to her single mom for a few days each week. Since her single mom had a job in next state, I also volunteered to watch over Abi until her mother got back home. Because Abi was still legally under the Institute, she had to trussed up like any patient.

“Cammty,” she cried and I hugged my new best friend.

The End.

%d bloggers like this: