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.”

“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

igetpantygagged


Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly. This  post was inspired by iSam’s Mom, where Sam Puckett doesn’t like to hear the word panties. It is actually still PG in nature. I mean, come on, fat producer Schneider leaves tons of sexual innuendos in iCalry,  olive oil, “you let my enemy penetrate my inner sanctum”, “I get my best ideas when wet” etc. So why not feature panty gags.

“…Some one’s little I Heart Vegas panties!” Carly screamed at her best friend Sam.

“You know I hate that word!” Sam shouted back.

“Panties!”

“I’ll show you you lover of female undies,” Sam snarled and sprung like a wild cat on her prey at Carly. The bimbo was so shocked  as the aggressive girl pinned her down on  the ground in one swift stroke and with one hand, she pried Carly’s mouth open and forced her own orange classic briefs panties into her best friend’s mouth.

“Mmmpp…wht…ah….u…” Carly screamed as her friend, extremely well trained in fighting and subduing people pushed the underwear in almost completely.

“Spencer!” Sam yelled. “Get me some  duct tape!”

Carly older but pretty naive brother heard the request and shouted back in reply. Soon enough, Sam used her thighs to pin the popular web show host to the  ground and ripped off a large piece of tape.

“Now, Duct Tape!” Sam yelled, something she said before when she gagged Carly previously and forced her to speed date. “Mmmppph!!” The Brunette cried as the first strip of ultra sticky  adhesive sealed the panties in. Sam plastered two more strips–one below and one above, creating a pretty effective gag.

“Don’t stand there, help me restrain your sister,” Sam shot her words at the dumb boy. Spencer was too willing to oblige; the sight of his pretty sister gagged was really arousing him. The girlish girl could only scream muffled cries as the two of the continued to hold her down and tape her wrists tightly with many rounds of tape.

“Do you want to take of her jeans?” He asked the blonde girl.

“Spencer, I know you were clever enough to enter law school but you’re now officially a genius!” With that, both he and Sam ignored the cried of the panty gagged girl as the y managed to yank her tight jeans down halfway, exposing the girl’s pink bikini panties.

“Aw Carly, these undies should be the the one’s in your mouth, not mine,” Sam commented, getting a “Mmmggh!!” in reply.

“Now, now girl you’re in no position to argue,” Spencer added. Together both of them managed to pull of her jeans. Soon, Carly’s knees and  ankles were also taped. Finally, tape was wound below and above Carly’s breasts to pin her arms to her sides.

“YES!” Both of them  did a high five.

The end.

Too Late!


“Pull! Pull! Pull!” I constantly kept of tugging at the handcuffs that locked my wrists behind my back, ignoring the pain that had tripled over the last few hours. There was no way I was going to stay cuffed, bound and gagged with my ankles stocks as stuffing to prevent more noise from emitting. I had been trussed up in the bathroom for hours, so tight that I couldn’t move and as a result,  couldn’t prevent myself from wetting myself.

 

SNAP! The chains linking the cuffs finally broken free. Success! It was simpler from then on, wriggling to remove  the ropes around my breasts and then working at the knots around my ankles and knees. Finally, again ignoring my damp panties, I stood unsteadily up, and move to work on the door. It snapped open, and I cautiously moved out.

 

I was shocked to see my sister, gagged and bound on a chair, still in her swimming costuming. Blood was flowing down from  what looked like a shot to her arm. “Oh Leanne!” I cried rushing forward.

 

“You lose the game,” The dark figure emerging from the side room  said.

 

“Evil man! I’ve enough of your games!” I cried.

 

“Haha!” he snapped of his mask, My brother then walked over to my sister and used a cloth to rub of the tomato sauce and freed her.

 

(So yes, this was a real act I played and no one got hurt at all. Unfortunately, I did get damp clothes as a result).

New Detention Method


New Detention Method

By: Claire Harrison

At Raddelborn Grammar School, the behaviour of students, both boys and girls was extremely appalling for several years. Recently, however, things have improved drastically. Grabbing my usual equipment, I passed through the school gates to learn the reasons for the change.

“It came about by accident really,” noted the Principal Mr. Thorborn. “One of our teachers had read a fiction book about House Arrest where the prisoner was still cuffed while under house detention. I happened to see the book on his desk and after one huge staff meeting, the idea can into effect”.

“The idea” was instead of writing lines, doing extra work or chores, students would be physically restrained in a set aside room, monitored by teachers. Various equipment such as cloth, clean underwear (donated by the students), rope, handcuffs, leg irons and even plastic ties are used, depending on the type of offence and number of times. For example, a student late for school three times would be bound with rope and cleave gagged, while vandals would get a hog tie with handcuffs and a stuff gag. “The worst punishment?” I asked the Head of Discipline, Mr. Vanu. “Oh, we keep the student really chained and gagged and even hooded till evening, checking every hour or so.” After the punishment, students are made to write a page of how they felt during the punishment and how they would not commit the offence again.

I caught up with two girls and two boys which have been through the “detention” at least once. “I thought it wouldn’t be much,” admitted Marianne Sturman, Year 7. “But once the restraints encircled your wrists and ankles, you really remembered those few hours forever.” “My hands couldn’t move after I was released from the cuffs,” said Patrick Hayes, Year 8, who was caught looking at his friend’s script during an examination. “I couldn’t figure out what to write after that and nearly got another hour of it.” Lilly Haliwell,  the same year as Patrick, was not so lucky. She was always a rebel and was finally caught hacking the school computers and contaminating the chemistry lab. A hog tie with an underwear gag for five hours was her punishment and she had to write double the account afterwards. “Look even the wrist marks are still there!” she said, half sobbing. Her parents, on learning about her actions, caned her daily and grounded her for the rest of the term afterwards.

What about the teachers? Surprisingly, only one out of the dozen I managed to interview was uncomfortable about it. “You’ll be surprised how parents and other school heads wrote to us after hearing the results,” Mr. Thornborn continued, showing me a report. Offences had dropped from 99 cases a term to less than 2 every two school semester. Grades of each year had dramatically improved. “What about the dangers?” I queried.

I was handed another ring file which detailed the exactly procedures. After each individual’s offence has been noted, it is matched with the guidelines determined by the discipline committee, which includes three parents. The student is notified of the detention (which is on the same day) and directly after school. It takes precedence over all other activities which still must be undertaken later and time is allowed for lunch to be digested. The school hires a local doctor to give the student a check up and should there be any problems, the restraining is scheduled later.

The room can accommodate at least 80 students, all who are either on the floor, bound to a chair or the wall. It isn’t that well ventilated to cause more discomfort but there is some flow of air. Since students have to be there for a period of time, they are forced to wear cheap disposable nappies first before being roughly bound and gagged. Those on the floor are not to touch each other and hence are allowed to roll around in a certain area. Those to the chairs don’t get much comfort as the chairs have their cushions removed and they feel the hard wooden frame on their bums. Those against the wall feel varying temperatures as the wall is electronically heated. Teachers patrol the room and there have been very few cases of students feeling sick halfway. For more humiliating purposes, each student is filmed with the film showed to the class the next day and the student forced to keep it forever.

I don’t know what came over me but I blurted out, “Could I try?” “Why not,’ Mr. Thorburn replied and added, ‘In fact, there’s a student facing her first but biggest offence today. Want to meet her?”

16 year old Leanne Choon, who was my height and build had three cases of plagiarism, three cases of exam cheating and three cases of truancy against her. I couldn’t get much out of the sullen girl, who kept her head bowed as Mr. Vanu held her. “oh, since you’re with us, why don’t you try the girls uniform. There should be some spares.” Being just under five feet and small, I guess school uniforms wouldn’t out grow me. I stepped out of my slacks and top into a blouse, skirt which reached just a third a way below my waist, black tights and flat healed shoes. I was half shocked as Vanu grabbed me too.

The medical check up was fast and well a little rough. It was practically almost a strip search and a look up at our medical history. The diapers came next and I struggled to get them on. Immediately, I was grabbed and pushed to my knees. A hand pinched my nose and I felt a silky material being rammed into my mouth. I half gagged on it and instinctively used my tongue to force it out. That was impossible as a leathery substance held it into place. Out of the corner of my eye, Leanne was already gagged and that was the last I saw of her as an opaque hood was tightened over me.

Next, the real restraining began as my wrists and ankles were encased in steel. Next was still another surprise as two thick bands—it had to be a long plastic tie or strong nylon—was wrapped above and below my C cup breasts, causing them to stand out. Ouch. The finishing touches were the chain forming the hog tie and straps around my knees.

“Ok, Claire roll but if you move further that you’re suppose to, you’ll know.” That meant that if I rolled out of my designated space, I would feel the hard shoes of the monitoring teacher. After a few minutes, it seemed better to remain still but with the tight restraints, that made hardly any difference in terms of comfort. Lying on my side seemed to be the best but the hogtie chain was really inflexible and my muscles were aching terribly. Suddenly I heard, “All girls, lie facing the ground.” With my breasts already emphasized with the straps, that meant more torture for them as they felt the roughness of the floor.

Time passed as the gags were really effective as I could barely heard the grunts of the nearby victims. Suddenly, I was yanked up from my position. “We’re letting you try the chair,” came the remark. The hogtie was removed and I was carried over a shoulder. I expected to be placed down on the hollow chair and described but instead felt someone yanking my skirt and tights. My hot diapered butt felt the coolness of air before the hard frame of the chair came next. More straps came across my chest and ankles, making sure that I could not move at all.

It was like another one and half hours before I was lifted out of the chair. Despite the hood, I knew my butt was now red and marked with the frame of the chair. “The wall” as the last and it was not simply placing one against the wall. My arms and legs were spread out in a spread eagled position, holding me against the concrete wall. As described, the wall’s temperature fluctuated. Finally, I was unchained and the hood was removed. It was like close to six o’clock and I had been in restrains and various positions for four hours. My diaper was a little soaked from sweat and my urine and I could hardly move my limbs to rub back the circulation. That however, was performed by a kind teacher.

“Want to write the detention report?” Vanu asked. I nodded and was ushered to another room. My hand took at least ten minutes to form the first word but I managed to write something worthy of a journalist in the time allocated. “That’s a pass,” Vanu remarked and finally my gag was removed. The stuff was a silky underwear which was unrecognizable. “Ow,” I finally said as I rubbed my jaw. “That really does teach one a lesson.”

I met up with Leanne who was full of tears and just wouldn’t move from the spot. “Come on, it’s over,” I said. “No-o,” she sobbed, “this is the beginning. My parents are going to give me more hell tonight.” I finally managed to coax the girl as we changed back into our knickers. “Oh,” Vanu said, passing me a disc. “For memories sake.”

It was a punishment I’ll never forget alright.

Hiking Gone Wrong


Day One:

I was just a junior guide but was gaining awards faster than most of my peers, so I was really fortunate to be selected for the Advanced Awards Hike, which was only open to guides who had two years of experience. I was paired up with a rather obnoxious assistant section leader named Clarissa, who was whining about taking a junior girl guide on a twenty odd kilometre hike across a mountain range. The intervention of our teacher in charge cleared all protests.

It was twenty kilometres as the crow flies, but it all depended on the route each pair took. Various Guide and Scouts were participating and we were the defending champions, so Clarissa gave me a sharp lecture on not letting her down. Why would I, I thought, having previously hiked with my family through out roughly the same terrain. There were very little rules and regulations set down, except the icky rule that all teams had to wear their uniforms. For the guys, it was alright but us girls had our legs exposed to the elements and natures creatures. The problem was solved by allowing girls to wear long socks and each female team was provided with extra insect repellent.

The line up was simply at t he edge of a forest and with a sort introductory speech, the masses of guys and girls raced off, each team taking their desired direction. Clarissa claimed to know the shortest and fastest route having performed the hike in the past and we made steady progress, hardly stopping to rest. After around two hours, we reached what was called the “Swinging Beam” which was simply a rickety old bridge. Despite the danger it posed, teams were allowed to cross it as safety nets were wired below. Gingerly, I lead the way and Clarissa followed, almost losing balanced. “#$%^,” she muttered then paused in her tracks and yanked out a knife.

“What are you doing? Cutting the bridge is against the rules!!” I exclaimed. “Shut up. The bridge is at breaking point anyway. We’re leading the pack and no one’s around. Unless you want to lose the game, you saw nothing, clear?” I nodded and with a light cut, “Swinging Beam” became “Broken Beam”.The rest of the hike was uneventful, save the constant buzzing of insects attacking my face and limbs and the perspiration that was building up around my body. It was about five afternoon when, crack, the ground below us gave way.

“OWWW!” We both screamed as our buttocks struck some rocky ground. We both chorused “are you okay” to each other but before we could get up we each were pounced upon. Something like close to 65kg of weigh fell upon me and immediately silenced my mouth by jamming what felt like a cloth into it. My protests and struggling was futile as I felt my arms wrenched behind my back and rope cutting into my skin. “Mmmmph!!” I cried and I heard my leader’s muffled scream to, but my ankles soon received the same treatment.

Finally, I was yanked up and dragged across the ground a pole that was hammered into place. More rope encircled my breasts and stomach, lashing me to the pole. Our captors were the scouts from our main rival school, Lemington High. “Mm..what the, Clarissa screamed as her cloth was removed. “What are you guys doing?” she screamed.

“Pay back, bitch. Last year you jammed the pathway with rocks and now you cut the bridge. And we’ve got evidence”, one of them growled as he tightened the ropes around breasts. “Hey, this is also against the rules!” I exclaimed. “Oh look, you’ve got a little protégé. Well missy, no one knows but we know all about the bridge cutting. And you’re team will lose for sure—you won’t be found for a while and we’ve got a video of you pranksters. Now, if you don’t mind,” I was about to protest but the cloth was jammed back into my mouth and held in place with a large stripe of duct tape.

The two boys then scaled up the hole using rope and with one saying “Auf Wiedersehen ladies,” they threw a camouflage netting over the top and left us all truss up. Immediately, we both started struggling but their knots were too perfect—they were after all scouts. This can’t be happening, I thought, why did she have to cut the stupid bridge? It was about half an hour of futile struggling later when the netting above us was yanked away. I glanced up and saw the same captors, one of them climbing down with a rope. The main ropes around me were swiftly cut away and I was yanked up with the rope attached to my bounds. Minutes later, Clarissa who was grunting or possibly swearing, was hoisted up too. “Walk ladies, and don’t give us trouble.” Thus, we continued our hike, bound and gagged.

The sun was quickly setting and the boys led us to a clearing. By then, I was drenched with sweat and my bound hands ached. The stuffed gag was also a discomfort in drying my throat out. We were shove to the ground and our ankles were trussed up again before our gags were removed. “#%..,ow!” Clarissa’s swearing was cut off with a tight slap across here face. “Any more dirty stuff from you and you’ll be forever gagged, got it?” Meanwhile, I thankfully accepted the short drink from the other captor/scout who then proceeded to unpack. Scanning around, I was again thankful that our backpacks were also retrieved but the burning question when we going to be free?

“We’ll make a deal. You be with us for the next few days or so until the valley area, where we’ll release you but never mention what you did today. If you don’t agree, we’ll dump you in another ditch and leave you permanently stranded. Whatcha say?” The “leader”, whose name turned out to be Jonathan proposed. I glanced at Clarissa with half pleading eyes, but silently fuming at her for getting us into this predicament in the first place. She muttered a silence yes and our wrists bounds were re bound in front of us, allowing us to barely scoop the canned food that was prepared.

After a meagre dinner, we were re-gagged but with cloth cleave gags this time, after promising not to scream. There were only two tents amongst the four of us—our and the boy’s—but they didn’t want us to be together. Instead, Clarissa was bound inside our tent while my wrists were secured to the pole of the boys tent, with both of them pretty close by. Having noticed the insects buzzing, they kindly threw a blanket across my exposed legs but that was all the comfort I would get. For the next two hours, I sat there in my increasingly greasy and damp uniform trying to think of puzzles or poems while the two captors chatted away.

“Bed time. We want to start early so that we get even further ahead.” Naturally teams were allowed to change out to sleeping gear and all they had to do snap a dated photograph before and after sleeping. This was about the only time Clarissa and I were free of our bonds and gag. “Hmm, now we don’t want any trouble from you two. So strip to your underwear.” I was about to protest when Clarissa undid her blouse. Bloody hell, I thought, but responded similarly. Being the tom boyish kind, Clarissa wore a black sports bra that covered most of her chest and matching sport panties. I wore a normal white bra and blue underwear which most definitely aroused the boys, given their looks. For our “bed time”, we were zipped up in our sleeping bags but with our wrists tied behind and cords wrapped around the back to prevent us from moving much. The cleave gag was in place again, but only after another drink of water. I was with the only scout, Bruce and thus ended my first day of hiking in a rather unusual circumstance.

Day Two:

Being in such a position, I naturally had a rather horrible sleep and was really groggy as Bruce woke me up. My bonds were gratefully removed and the drink of water barely helped to cleanse my parched throat. I murmured the need to change underwear and he stepped out for a few minutes for me to change to a beige bra and panties, then finally placing on a new set of uniform. Outside, my leader was ready and after snapping the required photos, we set about packing up. “Ok, ladies, we’ll make it easy on you but no trouble making.” That meant that we would have a piece of cloth in our mouth but no proper gag. Our wrists would be bound in front of us lightly but enough so that we could carry our own backpacks. That said, it was still uncomfortable and the makeshift gag did dry my mouth out quickly.

The scouts proceeded via their own route, but it soon seemed that it was as much a short cut as Clarissa’s. It was near midday when we heard noises and the boys quickly yanked us behind trees, concealing our bonds. “How did they get here so fast?”. Looks like we weren’t the first team, I thought. After the chattering disappeared, the boys hastened the pace so fast that I nearly lost my balance. Our lunch break was pretty short—just to grab a energy bar bite when Clarissa tried to make a run for it. I wasn’t sure about her plan, but as the boys were looking the other way, she darted off.

“Get her!” Jonathan screamed as he held on to me. Clarissa really didn’t have chance as she was brought back, her screams muffled by Brue hand. “You bitch, ” Jonathan yelled and within minutes, her wrists were doubly secured behind her back. “I’ll deal with you later,” he yelled, and placed Clarissa’s backpack in front of her.

We continued our travels, with each boy tightly grabbing each of us lest there was another escape. Finally, we reached a creek and another campsite was set up. However, Jonathan first, yanked both of us by our blouses and said, “you both will suffer for that incident earlier.” He reached into my backpack and demanded to know which of my underwear was clean. Puzzled, I pointed to one and yanking out the cloth, he forced my knickers into my mouth. “Mmmph!” I cried nearly choking but that was to no avail as it was secured which a piece of tape. Clarissa was similarly asked and thus both of us were humiliated with our knickers as gags. “Fix the campsite,” we were instructed. Once again sticky, we did so and were “rewarded” by being hogtied. Each boy took turns dipping in the stream, torturing us further.

Our further punishment was to prepare dinner for the guys while still gagged with our underwear. We were “tortured further” by watching have most of the meal while we were given a smaller portion, fed to us while we were tied up. We were trussed back into our hogtied, loser but still restrictive and kept apart. It’s not my fault, I silently screamed, trying to find a less strenuous position. It was to no avail and tears started streaming down my cheeks. Somehow, Jonathan noticed and suddenly undid my hogtie. “Watch the bitch,” he instructed Bruce and carried my bound body to the creek.

“Looks like you need a bath,” he remarked and started to undo my other bonds. It was so cat-like and partly sensual as he undid my uniform. I moaned under my gag but then my hands were tied again. Clad in my underwear, He lead me to the creek and the cool water was indeed a welcoming touch. Then, the cat like process continued as he rubbed my face and hair with soap and did so like wise for my arms and legs, missing my main body. “here,” he said, pulling my bound hands in front of me and slipping the soap into my fingers. I hesitantly began scrubbing my bra clad breasts and torso, then hoping he was not looking, I clean my crotch area. “That’s it for now babe,” he said and guided my back up.

In any other case, I would have screamed molest but there was some kind spark from that guy, even though he was my captor. I was allowed to change my underwear before being subjected to a simply tie—albeit with ropes above and below my breasts. Meanwhile, Clarissa was subjected to further punishment as she was forced to bend on a kneeling position while each boy took turns swatting her bottom. Their spanking must have been really painful since Clarissa’s muffled grunts were pretty large. After about thirty paddlings, they proceeded to secured her with more rope criss-crossing her breasts, firmly pulling them and enhancing her small cleavage. Her bound hands were attached to a rope looped around her crotch and secured around her torso. “This is a crotch rope Mandy, but lucky for you, you won’t be subjected to it. Unless you misbehave.” Noting how my senior was constantly moaning, I certainly did not desire a rope that would tingle me and arouse sexual thoughts. Their final act was to place another of her panties over her head and blindfold her, before wrapping her tightly in her sleeping bag.

Jonathan approached me, again in a cat like manner. If you still remember, I was gagged with my own underwear which by now had soaked up my saliva. Once again, I was thankful as her gently peeled off the tape and eased the soggy undergarment out of my mouth. With it all damp, I only had about two pairs of undies left. “You won’t get this anymore, but I hope you won’t cause any trouble.” I nodded but only received the piece of tape in return, and him adjusting my falling bra strap.

Day Three:

I got a slightly better sleep than the night before, mostly because of my bath. Once out, I noticed that Clarissa’s hair was wet—perhaps she did get a bath too. This time round, a rope was attached to both of our waists, locking us together. Clarissa still had her underwear jammed in her mouth and as a further punishment, she was not allowed to wear her bra. That was ok for my senior since her boobs were that big; conversely if it was me it would be really humiliating. We set off, this time of a path traced on Clarissa’s map which would bring us around the large lake and to the base of the mountain. From there the finish point wouldn’t be that far away but we were in the dark as to where the boys would “dump” us. Everything seem alright until an hour into our travel when I felt dampness between my legs. Even at fourteen years old, my periods were irregular and I would have worn a pad had I noted been kept in restraints for the past two days. “Mmmph!” My cry jolted everyone and the brown stain rapidly grew on my skirt. “Aw, babe did you bring pads?” I nodded but he shook his head. “Later. We’ve got to hustle.” I moaned in despair as this was my last uniform skirt; I couldn’t possibly continued with a bloody stain on it.

I had to for the next few hours and tried to ignore the dampness until finally we stoped to rest. Clarissa was hogtied again while Jonathan fished out my toiletries kit and escorted me to the side. Was he going to watch me me change? No, but one wrist was lashed to his arm. I further realised that I was running out of clean underwear and had to wash my pairs soon. The tugging on the rope however meant that I would have to inform them about this later.

A large chasm soon appeared before us and the only way across was to swing across using the hanging vines. The boys threw our backpacks across but stopped to confer. “We’re not letting either make a run once they cross.” That meant that Bruce went first, followed by Clarissa who was untied then me and finally Jonathan. Unfortunately, I landed flat and was soaked in mud. Aw great, further stains on my uniform. That chasm was not the only one that day as another materialised a few metres ahead. This time, vines were absent but there was a stone formation that surrounded part of it. Two small holes were visible and that indicated the route across.

“We can’t fit through that hole. Wait, you can,” Bruce remarked, jabbing his finger at me. “But we can’t let her escape.” “She won’t,” Jonathan replied but Bruce gave a indication of disbelief. I was made to go across, albeit without my blouse. That was a blessing and curse, as I didn’t have to deal with a muddy top but my skin was exposed to the coarse stone. It took at least fifteen minutes and as small as I was, I had to squirm like worm to reach the other side.

We paused early which meant that Clarissa was made to pitch the tents with the boys while I sat bound wrists and feet. “Mmmph”, I tried to say can I get a change and finally Jonathan responded, undoing all but my gag. Grabbing my pack, we again moved to the side.

What happened next was a sequence of slow moving events. I tried to signal that I needed privacy, but he instead held me firm and worked the buttons of my stained blouse with one hand. “Mmmph”, I cried through the tape but it was to no avail as he slid off the clothing. “Your bra’s dirty too,” he remarked then slide off my skirt. I started trembling this time, a girl with her menses in front of a guy. Grabbing one arm, He fished out on of my shirts but instead of letting me wear it, he worked the clasp of my bra.”Mmmph!” I cried but he paid no attention and slid of the undergarment. “You bra’s dirty but just put on the shirt, ok?” Trembling, I did so, one arm wrapped around my exposed bosom.

He gave me more dignity my letting me wear shorts and finally we were back. “Urm,” was all Bruce said at my bra-less figure. “We’ve got to conserve rope, hand me those calbe ties will you?” A side note: All teams brought cable ties to secure their tents and ground mats. My sore wrists were subjected to the sharp plastic but my ankles were free and I was allowed a cleave gag. As for Clarissa, she was locked in a ninety degrees hogtie with an extra piece of tape across he mouth.

Dinner passed as before and we girls sat bound as the guys played rounds of cards. A rustling noise broke the silence and chattering was heard. “Quick, throw them in.” I was ungracefully pushed into a tent with Clarissa landing on top of me. “How are you,” I head. “Fine,” came Bruce’s reply. “Why are there four tents? Oh, some other team pitched on the same spot but we don’t know where they are.” “Oh? Well, we better check then.” Those voices were no doubt the roaming patrols for safety purposes. Clarissa moan but her gag was too strong for her cry to be heard.

Time passed slowly for us bound females and even the light cleave gag started to dry my mouth out. Jonathan finally threw down his deck and marched over to me. “Where are you taking her? “Just to freshen her up. Watch the other one.” I was cradled in Jonathan’s arms and again he picked up by bag. My gag was lowered and I accepted the sip of water. “Do you need to change your pad?” he asked. Never expecting that, I said yes and asked to put on a bra. The answer was no so my wrists were free and I moved to conceal my changing. Even before I pulled my shorts back up, Jonathan grabbed me from behind and gave me a long kiss on the lips. It was rather more like a tentacle sucking my lips but somehow, I did not protest.

He locked me in that embrace for a further five minutes before we returned. Instead of being bound in my sleeping bag, he loosely tied my hands behind me and wrapped himself around me through the night. Oh gosh, here was a girl having her period and a guy hugging her in a lover-type of hug.

Day Four:

I awoke, still bra less but thankfully no longer locked in Jonathan’s embrace. The boys announced that we would set off much later but that meant us girls had to remain bound and gagged while resting. We both were given light hogties, hands locked with the plastic ties and rope around our breasts. Clarissa was stripped to her underwear again and given the crotch rope and a blindfold but we were both gagged with several strips of tape.

The march off again involved Clarissa without her bra and her panties in her mouth. I’m not sure whether it was the same panties, if not Clarissa’s set would be all soggy by now. This time it was an upward climb and given our bonds and being linked, the boys had to help us up the slope. Another water body greeted us behind the mini cliff and although we didn’t travel that far, we took a break there.

We I said “take a break”, it was more a break for the scouts while we captives were subjected to another of their rituals. Our gags were first reinforced with a cleave gag and then a strip of tape over it. Check to make sure I was ok (I guess since I was having my period), my blouse was removed while the bra-less Clarissa’s skirt was ripped off, showing her red underwear. A rope was looped around Clarissa’s crotch and only then were we forced together such that my hands were connected to the rope around Clarissa. Essentially, if I moved my bound wrists, Clarissa would feel a tug on that rope. While Bruce secured our legs with plastic ties, Jonathan secured us together with more rope. Finally, we were laid down with blankets over us.

“Mmmph..mmpp!” Clarissa cried and I suspected she was saying stop moving my hands. “!” I replied back, you’re squashing my boobs! We finally rolled to one side but that was little comfort to either of us. Oddly enough, it felt a little arousing although I definitely was no lesbian.

It must have been noon before we were finally released from that tight bondage and the only reward were two energy bars. The next path ahead was sticky mud that was knee high and quite surprisingly both boys carried us over, backpacks and all. That was by far the last challenge of the day as we neared a rather large cave.

“It’s early. Want to stop here?” Jonathan asked his partner. They huddled over a map for a few minutes before agreeing to call this our stop. We moved further into the cave only to find a mass of animal bones. “Mmm, looks like someone had a feast here, no matter we should be alright.” Just then, Clarissa started signalling through muffled cries. “What you want bitch?” “Jonathan asked, yanking out her underwear. “Please, I really need to pee and urm…” “Grr…Bruce, you take her out and don’t let her out of your sight.”

As the two disappeared, I was once again alone with a guy who seemed to have a crush on me. Back to my appearance, I was in my last clean uniform, my hands bound together in front of me and a piece of cloth in my mouth. “Oh babe, you look so stunning,” he breathed as her undid my bonds. I shuddered and yet was half captivated at the same time. “Please, remove your uniform,” he whispered with tone of coyness in my ears. As my undies were exposed his eyes widen, realising that I was still menstruating. “Oh, babe, you still look wonderful, even with that.” “Mmmpph,” I replied, trying to say, “get lost, you dirty guy.”

I was of course in no position to argue as he applied rope to enhance my cleavage and locked me in a ball tie, with my wrists attached to my heels. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a pair of panties in his hand. It definitely wasn’t mine and he confirmed that my saying, “don’t worry babe, this is a clean pair of Clarissa’s. Sorry but…” he extracted the cloth in my mouth and replaced it with the underwear. Gosh, it better be clean as I tasted the cloth. I couldn’t argue further as he used my guide’s scarf to secure it in place. By then, the other two had returned and I watched Clarissa’s predicament. Her blouse was unbuttoned but not removed and she too was subjected to breasts bondage. Once again, a crotch rope was applied and the poor girl’s arms were folded together behind her back and tied together such that her elbows were bent ninety degrees.

“Mmmph..mmpp!” Clarissa cried and I suspected she was saying stop moving my hands. “!” I replied back, you’re squashing my boobs! We finally rolled to one side but that was little comfort to either of us. Oddly enough, it felt a little arousing although I definitely was no lesbian.

It must have been noon before we were finally released from that tight bondage and the only reward were two energy bars. The next path ahead was sticky mud that was knee high and quite surprisingly both boys carried us over, backpacks and all. That was by far the last challenge of the day as we reached a small rocky enclave.

“Perfect spot isn’t it?” Jonathan remarked. “Mmmmmph, Mmhhpp!!” The panties gagged Clarissa yelled. “What, bitch?” “Please, I need to pee and urm…” she hesitated saying the last word. “Argh, Bruce, you watch her and don’t let speed off again.” As the two moved away, I once again was left with this love struck captor. Pretty helpless, I could only shudder as he undid my bonds and asked me to strip to my undies. “Oh,” was all he could say when he saw I was still menstruating. Yeah, I thought, don’t you try anything.

He did. I was bound in a ball tie (go google it) with my wrists locked to my heels. Now, I was temporary free of a gag but it was not long before he held something in his hand. It definitely wasn’t any of my knickers and he confirmed that by saying, “Don’t worry baby, it’s a clean pair. Now,” with a half apologetic tone, my friend’s underwear came into contact with my lips. Was it really clean? It tasted more like sawdust. It better be clean, I thought.

Still, all I could do was groan as my own guide’s scarf was used to secure it in place. By then, the other two had returned. My team leader’s blouse was simply unbuttoned—remember she was bra-less—but her panties too were exposed. She was trussed up in a reverse prayer position with a crotch rope yet again added. It soon dawned upon me that these scouts knew more than basic scouting knots.

For the rest of the time, the boys simply continued another game of cards. Clarissa for the first time was sweating profusely and tears were running down her cheeks. They did release her into a normal hogtie after a while, but added more plastic ties to her wrists and ankles.

Day Five:

I’m skipping much of the events of Day four as they were similar to Day Three. Being in a cave, we didn’t pitch tents but both of us girls were similarly bound and gagged in our sleeping bags.

A heavy morning dew greeted us which immediately dampen my uniform—I had to use one of my old blouses and skirts as everything else was stained and the scarf was worn out after being used as a gag. My period thankfully had stopped and once again Clarissa was panties-gagged and bra-less. “You’re too easy on her,” Bruce remarked, jabbing his finger at me. “I’m the team leader, you just watch over the other one.” How nice, he was so protective, I thought, but still wondered how clean Clarissa’s own gag was by now.

Having only soaked once in water, all of us were filled with the dirt and sweat of the previous few days. My hair was clotted with insect webs and there was the constant buzzing of insects near my eyes and ears. Naturally, with my bound hands, I couldn’t swat any of them away, which made matters worse.

We made considerable progress that day and lo and behold, we were rewarded with the sight of a majestic waterfall and pool before our eyes. “Now, ain’t that a blessing,” exclaimed Jonathan. Business however came first. Both boys wanted to jump in but us girls were their problem. Last time round, we were hogtied but this time round, they had another plan which involved the pegs used to hold the tent to the ground. Both of us were first made to strip of all our clothing and wrap ourselves in towels. “Ya never want to run away naked,” Bruce explained. Then we were made to lie down, arms and legs spread out in a spread eagled position. Ropes connected to the pegs held us in the X shape position while multiple strips of duct tape formed our gags and our scarves completed the blindfold. “Just to be sure ladies, your bags will be with us so in the event of escape, you’ll be running away only in a towel.”

For the next hour, all I could do was listen to their joyful yelps and endure the caterpillars, snails and ants crawling across my bare skin while the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly on me. The “zzz zzz” of an insect, hopefully not a mosquito rang through my ears and appeared right in front of very eyes. “Mmmmph!!” I cried over and over as it landed on my cheek. Just as I thought it would prick my skin, a pair of fingers clouded my vision and plucked the insect away. “Hi, you want to have a proper bath don’t you?” I groaned in return. “You behave yourself you understand?” I nodded and my bounds came off.

The “proper bath” was me really soaking in the pool with him watching but careful not to insult my modesty. For the next half an hour, I soaked in the soothing water rubbing hard everywhere, especially my wrists and ankles, which by now had rope burns. “Out,” he commanded and I left the moment of luxury but quickly covered myself with the towel. With stiff legs, I moved to get a new change but was stopped by him. “Uh huh, new condition. You’re going to be wearing only your towel for the rest of the day.”

Already humiliated so much, I of course protested, but was easily wrested to the ground. At least it was only a cleave gag but the way he applied it was so rough that I thought the sides of my lips would break. Rope circled my breasts, torso, waist and knees while my fingers were taped. “Just to be sure,” he commented. Another blindfold completed my “restrictions” yet again.

This was by far my most vulnerable and exposed position—if the patrols or other teams came by, it would be totally embarrassing but at least the scout’s torture would end. Five minutes later, I learnt the dread news, this would be where they would leave us. The “ooof” of Clarissa’s grunt was heard as the boys dumped her next to me and with an eerie laughter, they left me bound, gagged and only covered with a towel.

Clarissa immediately rolled over to me and my gag was easily yanked away. I returned her favour and she let out a stream of curses before we both continued to undo the knots. It was a long sweaty time before my wrists cam free and finally all the rope was cast away. That was the easy bit, the next part was finding our gear, which the boys had scattered in different parts of the foliage. Everything was there except that only one brassiere was left in each bag and our knickers were missing. “Those $$$#%%!” she screamed as we dressed. Even so there was no time to be embarrassed to be without underwear as we set off.

Finally, after seven more hours, we reached the finishing point, only to discover that we were third place, a position that came with no prize. Our torturers finally returned us our underwear and we swore not to tell about our experience while they deleted the video of Clarissa’s actions—which after all got me into this mess.

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