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 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.”


“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 One


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 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 and only female guests 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 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 with the boys my eldest sister knew. My parents, well, seemed to also partake in this sort of activity. My youngest 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. “Jon, 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. 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 pre-registered in in advance and luckily for us there was a lift; I didn’t fancy using the steps in my condition. The room or rather 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, Jon 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 that we would still be bound and gagged while inside our guest room. 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,” Jon said. I’m sure you’re enjoying this, I thought as he tied my wrists 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. They looked like 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 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, pulling on some black tights on 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 got steak. Such and agreement was done by gag speak. Margo, the waitress arrived with bread and expertly placed the 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.

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

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

Our mainly 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 dish 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.”

“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 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 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….


TUG Stories Moderators


Jason Toddman is an asshole.

There is no such thing as gender tagging.

Secondary School Tie Up Games: The 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. Youre 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 Chinese.

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

“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 Chinese.

“Tape ok. Cloth we can get. Rope maybe, after all, I’m a Scout,” Yan Rong smiled as his gagged 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 treat 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 girl’s were released.

“I need to pee, I need to pee!” Cried Shirleen, as she ran toward’s 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 about 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.



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.


“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.

Davis Story: The First Time

Warning: This is a story that mentions other stuff like incontinence and bedwetting so be warned. Nothing too gross here.

“Freyja, I’ll be out for a while. Remember to change your pull up when you feel wet ok? Anything else wrong, look for your sis Sayle. Ok?”

“Ok mummy,” I said tiptoeing up and hugging her. I watched my mother head out to catch the local bus–Daddy had taken the only family car. We lived in an old farmhouse at the edge of a very small town. While there were enough shops and food outlets available, we had to get other necessities either from the farmers around our residence or head to the nearest city. What mummy was probably getting was more accessories for my wetting. You see, I was born with a weak bladder, or whatever the doctor told me, so I couldn’t wear big girl’s undies and had to change every few hours.

It was around the start of spring break and I love such holidays even though most were at home. I was the fourth child in the family–yes there were loads of kids, or rather the fourth daughter. The eldest, as mentioned, is Sayle, then there’s Imogen, Avena, me and my lovely little sister, Jocasta, who keeps saying she’s old than me, although she’s a year and a few months younger.

Finishing my cup of fresh orange juice–really fresh from a local farmer, not the kind you get from supermarkets–I headed upstairs to the room I shared with Jocasta or Jo, humming the old Teletubbies tune. Just before I reached my room, I heard a ‘thumb’-like sound and nearly fell down, frightened. At this young age of 9, I was really scared of sudden loud sounds and would run to my parents or hide every time there was thunder. I got up and waited but there was no more sound. Phew. In my room, I opened my drawer and got out my Gameboy set and started playing some games. Gameboy was going to be out of stock but I just loved fiddling with its keys and its structure.

It was probably around another ten minutes later when I heard another loud thumbing noise. Then it came again. What on earth? I headed back to the hallway and then detected the noise coming from Sayle’s room. Being the oldest child, Sayle had one of the largest rooms in the house and one to herself. Well, it was often not just herself inside; her long-term boyfriend Martyn usually came over to join her there. “Don’t you disturb us,” she would often warn us younger children before she locked the door.

I approached her door which was filled with posters or rock stars and other girly fashion pictures then heard more thumbs and then ‘mmmphs’ and ‘arghs’. What on earth was going on? Was she and Martyn talking in code?

“Sayle, are you alright?” I called.

More “mmmph’ sound came and then I her laughter. Wait, that wasn’t her laughter. “Sayle, Sayle, are you ok?” I knocked on her door several times. The same sounds came again.

Her door was a traditional wooden door but had a key hole so I looked through it–I wasn’t that tall and my eyes were exactly the same height as the key hole–and saw a body shape rolling about. “Sayle!” I pounded on the door. Being a kid and having watched lots of TV, I turned to rush to the nearby phone to call the police or fire department.

Even before I could move a couple of steps, someone grabbed me from behind, cuffed a hand over my lips and I was dragged backwards. “Hmmmmelllp!” I cried and kicked then heard:

“Quiet, be quiet, be quiet! It’s my Martyn!” The hand was released and I was sat down on the floor. Inside Sayle’s room for the first time, I saw my sister in those spaghetti strap tops and mini skirt. She was lying face down on the ground but her hands were behind her, tied with what looked like tights. Her legs were bound similarly and tights were also bound around her head, probably gagging her.

“Say..le!” I cried lunging forward but again Martyn’s thick hands stopped me. “Look, I’ll, we’ll explain.” He reached forward and removed the tights around her head–it was a mouth gag!

“We were playing….” He started.

“A game. I lost so I had to be captured.”

“Captured?” I asked.

“Yes, tied,” she twirled around on the floor to show her bonds. “Look, it was a game we often played and liked. It’s nothing dangerous…”

“No harm,” Martyn said. “Well, not something people, kids,” he stared at me, “play.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“It’s a long story. Now look, why don’t you go back and be really quiet about this. No telling Mum or Dad or the others hear?” Sayle said.

“Why? I don’t get it. Why do you want to be tied?”

“Just go back will you? Don’t go to the phone, don’t tell!” She raised her voice. Sayle always likes to bully people and that starts by raising her voice.

“No…” I wasn’t going to unless they explained. Suddenly, I felt my arms yanked behind me and something thick binding my wrists together.

“Hey! Stop this! Help!”

“Where’s your tights?” I heard Martyn yelled as he tightened my wrist bonds.

“The rest are dirty. First drawer, hankies!” I heard drawers yanked open and then cloth, no, hankies were jammed into my mouth, stopping my speech. “Mmmmph!” I used my tongue and wedged most of it out.

“Scarf!” A thin scarf was wrapped around my lower jaw, sealing the hankies. I kicked and kicked but soon my ankles were also bound with more scarfs.

“Yes! Another captive!” I heard Martyn clap then he re-tied the tights around Sayle’s lips.

“Mmmmmph!” I cried. She responded with the same gag cry. We both rolled around while Martyn sat on her bed, smiling gleefully. The rolling and gagged cries continued until I heard Martyn cry, “your Mum’s back!” With rapid speed, he undid ours bonds and gags and I was pushed out. It was also probably just in time as I felt a dampness between my legs and rushed to my room.

“Jo? Are you upstairs?” I heard mum call.

“Yes, mum just changing,” I replied, pulling up the fresh Goodnites.

“Ok, come down to wash up your cup.”

I proceeded to but was intercepted by Sayle.

“No telling Mum anything what just happened. You’ll get the full story later. Agree?”

I nodded and yes, she and Martyn explained the full story afterwards.

The End.


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