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 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whmmm?” I queried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 2:

I was awaken by both the burst of sunlight and a hand shaking me. “Hey wake up, Freyja,” it was my Dad. “Time to rise; we’ve lots to cover today.” I instinctively tried to say ‘morning’ but it came out as ‘mmrning’. It was then I remembered the state I was in. He proceeded to undod 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!” He ordered. 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,” he grumbled.

“But dad…” I began to protest.

“I said ‘not now’. Help Freyja sit,” he ordered my brother. 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 all over my chin. “Jaigo…” 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,” Dad remarked. 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 much more tightly bound. The new cleave gag seem thicker or was it my brother’s evil plan for me? Jo, mum, dressed almost similarly and myself 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. Jaigo,” he turned to my brother. “Watch over all the ladies. And that’s it. Not additional binding, no additional gags, no dirty play, you got it?”

“Yes,” he muttered

“Yes what?” Dad demanded.

“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 with tie ups or bondage, 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 alone 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?” He concluded.

We girls nodded. Dad continued, “Ok, despite the uneven ratio, here’s how it goes. I’ll take Donna (that’s my my mother by the way) and Imogen. Jaigo, 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,” the guard explained. Wishing us ‘bye’ and ‘good luck’ the men joined the male queue while other male marshals guided us ladies. One of them 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 yelled. “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!” He ordered and it was a messy stampede. Soon, 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 Marshal yelled. The session was about to start.

Part 3:

I inched forward when suddenly Carter’s hand shot out and held my right arm. 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 bound 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 hours in the evening. First, we ladies were all unbound and gags off but told to be silent. The first 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, etc.

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 my lips. This session also involved advice from Erik for us captives: a good warm-up is the best way to prepare yourself, physically and mentally, for a tie-up session. It helps you to relax and also to become more flexible. “You’ll be able to enjoy the TUG or bondage then,” he said. TUGs or bondage is like a spiritual awakening–you are denied ability to move in the world around you, your gag prevents proper communication and, he held up a piece of cloth, “your eysight is gone.” Yeah, back to the good old 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 securely and quiet. Erik yelled out several combinations like ‘cloth only’ or ‘rope and cleave gag’ or ‘rope and stuff gag’. While the competition was fun, it was also really physically taxing and many girls and women suffered burns on their wrists and ankles and marks on the faces and mouth. Carter wasn’t fast enough but Imogen and her parter, Donald, got third place for two combinations. “You’ll get your prizes later,” Erik announced. Finally came a short breaktime and water was passed around, again with us girls wrists bound behind our backs–Carter chose tape for mlyself.

The next part of the session moved to more advanced stuff like hogties. These were tied with rope but also with cloth and with fetters like handcuffs. Hogties in my view are the more physically torturing as the strain muscles all over. Then, chairs were brought out and Erik taught the audience chair ties of various forms, again with simple material. Then came out tables. “Table tie,” Erik announced. “A classic in ancient and modern times for interrogation and torture,” he added. 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 strenuous as hogties. “Ok, next,” he remarked. 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 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 and hurts your next.

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. Jaigo 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 all over my face or chin. He also took the opportunity to further introduce 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, I thought. 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 harder than the lotus or arm behind and not that bad if done properly. My partner failed to do so properly the first try and caused me to moan from the pain. Finally, with Erik’s help, he got it right and boy did that also push my 34A 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 ordered to take off their outer 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 corrected 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 have mastered 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 Eric yanked the rope between my buttocks and pulled it tight against my knickers-clad crotch, fastening it again the waist rope. “Girls, relax.” But that was hardly an order to be followed since almost immediately, the knot pressed hard against my clitoris and I gave a short grunt through the gag. Then I believe the muscles there began contract there and my vaginal juices started to flow out. then, “Mmmmahmm,” I moaned as 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 over and over. 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 madly!

Erik left us girls in this erotic scenario for just over an hour before he instructed the boys to finally remove the crotch rope. My knickers was just not wet with all my vaginal juice but I was swaeting. A quick drink and our breast bondage was removed and our outer clothes were back on. It was more advance gags time and they made us wear 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 gag was buckled place, he said, “now it’s chains time.” Oh yeah, handcuffs and leg irons! Those that they provided 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, lower your undies 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 the remainder of your stay here. 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 as we came in. Back in the sanctuary of our guest room, we ladies changed into casual wear. Mum was tired so turned in earlier, while the male folk had to unpack the suitcases of the new arrived sisters–perks of us girls 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 tape bound. “Night sis,” my brother said and it was darkness.

Part 5:

I woke up the next day to the feeling of both a dry throat and a roughl 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 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,” he hissed. I shook my head, not believing him.

“It’s true,” my brother growled and pinched my nose, allowing him to push the dreaded ball inside and secured 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 laid out.

“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,” he said. 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 shower will be taken with ball gags unless you feel ill. There’s no reason for you to talk there,” Dad annouced then 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 different types of bondage.” The first one was tape. Tape was over not just my wrists but my elbows, really restricting my arm movement. The duct tape gag 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 evidently long 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. 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. Also, do not lose sight of your ladies. Alright, everyone ready? Follow me.” We did so then he pointed out areas of the estate which we haven’t 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 his 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 which definitely wasn’t around in those days. We thenpassed 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-like 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,” he explained. Sadistic bastard, I thought. Our menfolk guided us closer and the small notice did indeed it mentioned that ladies would be bound and gagged 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, which certainly 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, he announced. “Cuffs were rare in the early days, but quite quickly, 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 immediately 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 restrained 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 suddenly said. “Five minutes and then 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,” Dad announced.

Undies?! I thought. Oh yes, the classical 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.” he immediately said. I wasn’t you fool, I thought but gratefully accepted the bottle of water to my lips and 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. Rip! 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 moaned silently.

“Alright people. Gentlemen; gather your ladies, the tour is about to resume,” Johannes called. 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, however have leatherstraps connected to the sides. “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 used,” Johannes answered.

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

“Jaigo, we aren’t in the business of making of  torturing the girls,” my father growled. Yeah that’s right little boy, don’t you dare whip me, I thought.

“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 if we suspect action that is too extreme,” he added. 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 suggests, 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, I thought,

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 and 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, 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….


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

Part 7:

The two figures were a guy and a young girl, prehaps a pre-teen or young teenager. The guy who spoke was one huge chunky person. I judged him to be at least 1.85 metres tall with muscles bulging out from his short sleeve shirt–not exactly what most men and boys were wearing here–and faded jeans. He was a blonde guy with blue eyes  the sterotype. His female companion was in floral dress with white bra straps visible and wearing three-quarter leggings. As with all girls here, she was bound and gagged with a simple grey duct tape gag and hands bound with similar material behind her back.

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

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

“Oh, this is my cousin Melissa,” he pointed at the girl who tried to smile using her eyes. My brother, father and brother-in-law introduced themselves while we gagged ladies just gave muffled replies. Johannes interrupted us, guiding the group into what definitely lookked like a maze. “This is the castle maze, grown out of one side of the main garden. It’s not just any maze but for men and ladies to play cat and mouse or cops and robbers or whatever you call it. Basically girls, naturally bound and gagged, with have headstarts ahead of the men–these headstarts may vary according to agreements between teams and our officials–and will move through the maze. The men, or ‘cats’ or whatever you wish to call them, will have to find their girls under a given time


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.

The Patient

The clinic was new to the town and it was certainly welcomed since the old clinic shut down. The single doctor and nurse were strangers to the town’s population but since it was the only medical facility around, they had to visit it for any illness. It was summer time and the town’s star pupil, Charlotte Seager, started coughing a lot. “You better take leave and visit the clinic,”, her head teacher commented.


“I’m…*coughh*, ah *cough*…fine,” she stammered. Charlotte or Charlie loved school and did want to miss her maths and history lessons.


“You’re certainly not. He’s a day pass, go and if need to, rest at home tomorrow,” the teacher replied. Half-grumbling, half coughing, she packed her bags and exited the school grounds. The sun outside was brightly shining and that was exactly helping the sick 16 year old. Thankfully, Charlie had changed to socks instead of nylon tights. But as she walked to the bus stop, the heat of the day grew and made he cougher even more. The bus ride was no comfort since there was a lack of fans or air-conditioning and it was a rather rickety bus. Finally, after another few more minutes in the heat, she was inside the clinic.


“Do you have an appointment dear?” The bespectacled grey haired nurse behind the counter asked.


“*Cough*…no,” Charlie replied.


“Oh do fill this form up. And there’s a water fountain over there. You look like you’ll need it.” After scribbling her particulars, the teenager thankfully drained three cups of water down, which did sooth her throat. Sitting down, she noticed that there were several patients in front of her. It’s one of those logn waits she thought, and picked up a magazine.


After a few minutes, Charlie felt that her bladder was signalling. “Uhm, nurse, is there a ladies in this building?”


“Outside, turn left but I believe it’s under repair today. Some leaky pipe.”


The signal from her bladder grew so Charlotte exited anyway, and indeed found the door to the unisex loo locked. “Open, damnit!” she cried as her bladder’s pressure grew. Returning to the waiting area, she asked, “Nurse, is there any other toilet here or nearby?”


“No, sorry. I thought you have a sore throat?”


“Yeah,” Charlotte replied hoarsely then coughed. “But I really have to…” She didn’t want to say the word, especially not with the other patients around.


“I’m sorry, I do think Dr. Shaw won’t be much longer. Just sit down.”


Shaking her head Charlotte did and crossed her legs and squeezed her eyes. Damn it, hold bladder hold. But why would she suddenly need to pee? It wasn’t that much longer. After what seemed like eternity, the other patients were cleared and the nurse called her named. Charlotte literally ran into the room to find a rather young doctor.


“Good afternoon, Charlotte?” he read off his folder. “I’m Dr. Charles Shaw. Please take a seat.”


She did so, again crossing her legs tightly with the increasing pressure from her bladder. “Your throat is given you problems I believe,” he continued. “Could you open wide?”


She did so and squeezed her eyes shut as he flashed a light and prodded around. Oh please, please, someone stop this torture! Give me a toilet now!


“Hmmm, that is really a nasty throat. I’ll have to prescribe a heavy dose of anti-bio..” Just as he was talking, Charlotte couldn’t bear it any more and shot up from the chair. “Doctor, I need to….” Suddenly her bladder emptied itself, a larger shot immediately staining her translucent blue knickers and spilling onto the ground.


“OH MY GOSH!” she exclaimed with her hoarse voice. “Oh m..,,” she was lost for words.


Doctor Shaw clam walk over and said, “It’s ok dear, why don’t you head over to the bed over there?” Her face red with embarrassment, Charlotte proceeded to but her bladder gave way again, with another dribble. “What…what’s happening to me?”


“Nurse Jane? Could you close reception and bring the mop?” The Doctor called. Turning to his patient, he asked, “have you had any bladder infections recently?”


“No…I,” she coughed and felt another short drop of urine. This is a nightmare. “I don’t know what’s happening to me?!”


“Well, female bladder problems aren’t uncommon with teenagers,” he commented, and that didn’t ease her worry. Just then the nurse came and saw the mess of the floor. She immediately began to mop but Charlie could only turn redder with embarrassment.


“Doctor, I really…” suddenly she peed again, this time onto the bed. “What’s happening to me?!!! Why….”


“Relax, Charlotte,” Dr. Shaw said, motioning her to roll over and placed a thick towel underneath. “Could you remove your skirt and underwear for me?”


Already bright red, Charlotte did so and instinctively cover her private part. The doctor walked ovr to a cabinet and extracted several items. “I can’t tell exactly what’s happening Charlotte, “ he said, “but I can give you something to stop it temporarily.” A minute later, he was by her side, holding a filled syringe in his arms.


“What…what’s that?”


“It’s an antidiuretic,” he replied, and she racked her brains, remembering reading  the term in one of her advanced biology textbooks. “It will moderate your urine production for a while.” Oh. “Now, Can you place your hands by your side? Won’t hurt.” Contrary to his description, the injection did. Then he used another syringe to extract a sample of her blood.


“Now,” he continued, “that’s temporary and I took your blood for further testing. Meanwhile, I suggest you should be given protection.”


“Protection?” Charlie queried, shifted in the bed.


“Well, the drug will wear off after a few minutes and it is not recommended to give another dose, especially for someone your age. So you need to wear continence underwear to catch further leaking.” It was then she saw what he had extracted out of the cabinet.




“If you want to call it that,” he continued in his calm voice. “Now, could you spread…”


“No, no way I’m going to wear that….” she croaked, starting to move off the bed. “I’m…”


“You certainly won’t be going home with that stained knickers and skirt young lady,” he pointed,


“This is so silly. Let me….”


“I say you have about eight or so minutes before you start wetting again. Now back on the bed.”


Charlotte’s head was spinning and suddenly she felt a bit dizzy. “Back on the bed,” she heard him say again. For some reason, she didn’t want to but somehow she found herself flat again. “Nurse, please hold her still,” he said then she heard a whirling sound.




“I need to shave you,” he said, “if not the urine and briefs will create rash.”


“Noo…” she croaked but the elderly nurse held her down and she felt the metallic blades again her area. After a few minutes, she was released, only to be rolled over to have a mat replace the towel and then something slide underneath. “Ow…Ow…OW!!!” she cried, as she felt a creamy cold substance between her legs.


“It’s to again guard again rash,” the doctor commented, glancing at his watch. “Two minutes.” She then realised what else was against her bum. But with the nurse holding her, adhesive sounds followed and the 16 year old was now taped with an adult nappy around her.


“Oh my…shit!” she felt a growing warmness between her legs and moved up to see pee staining the nappy. “I can’t believe it….”


“I told you the drug was temporary,” he commented, removing his medical gloves and then stowing the rest of the materials back. “You can get dressed now.. Not your underwear of course.”


“But how can…”


“Put your skirt on, Charlotte,” this came from the nurse. She gingerly did so and found it did fit over the thick nappy. “But…I can’t go out like this!”


“You certainly can’t go out with urine flowing down your legs either,” he said, “look, the brief can’t be seen at all.” He was right it couldn’t unless someone stared at it.




“I think we’re done here, Charlotte. Nurse Jane will give you the antibiotics. Since you are a school going child, there’s no need to pay for the pills or the briefs.”




He scribbled something and passed it to her. “Here’s a note which brand of adult briefs or nappies you would want to get. Tena Slip Maxi would be a great choice. They are thin and absorbent. At least buy one packet and come back to me in say about a week’s time. The blood test results should be done by then.” Just as on cue, another burst of urine stained her nappy and she squirmed.


“Wait, do get back on the bed.” She didn’t want to, but eventually gave in and he lifted her skirt. “Hmm, it’s it rather soggy. Nurse, can you get another out? And the cream and wipes.” The tearing sounds of adhesive were heard again and the nappy was yanked away. “Sorry, hospital-grade briefs.” he commented, though she did not get him. The stinging happened again as he wiped her vulva and spread cream on it again. Another nappy was slid underneath and secured in place.


“But…” she said again getting up. “I can’t walk properly.”


“Nonsense, it’s your mind dear,” the nurse replied. “And when you get the Tena Slips, they are thiner.”


“But…what will my family and friends say?”


He scribbled another note. “I don’t think it’s a medical case to excuse you fully from school. But this will excuse you from your Physical Exercise. As I said earlier, it’s not uncommon for teens to be incontinent.”




“We’re closing now. Don’t forget your bag and shoes. And the anitbiotics. Also, buy some wipes and DESTIN cream along with the nappies. If you show the store people the note I gave you, you’ll get it cheaper. See you next week.”


With that, the girl who once wore normal underwear half walked, half waddled out of the new clinic. Once she was gone, he turn to the nurse and gave her a hug. “Thanks mum.” he said. “That was a great move, lacing the water.”


“And that was a great act son,” she replied, kissing him. “She fell for it.”


“Yes. Next week when she returns, she’ll be all ours.”







Comments welcomed. Will probably post a sequel.


“Hi…” Charlotte said, re-entering the clinic again. She was dressed in a sleeveless beige halter top and pleated jeans skirt. “I’m…”

“Charlotte Seager, I remember you from last week,” Nurse Jane smiled.

“Uh, yes nurse,” she replied, recalling the horrible ordeal. “Actually, I feel much better. Why do I have to be here?” The nurse had called her to arrange this appointment.

“It’s all standard for a check up. You can go right in,” the elderly lady said.

“Hello again Charlotte,” the young doctor said. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m much better thank you,” Charlotte replied, hoping that it will be a short meeting. “The medicine work fine; my cough is gone.”

“Well, I still wish to take a look. Open wide please,” she did so and the doctor examined her throat with a tongue depressor and a flashlight. “Yes, it’s all cleared.”

“Thanks,” the teenager got up and was about to exit when he called, “what about your incontinence?”

“Uh,” she turned bright red as she spun around, “it still happened across the week but it became less and less.”

“Did you use the incontinence briefs?”

“Uh…no I changed to pull ups which was easier.”

“I’ll like to take a look,” Dr. Shaw said, though it came out like an order.

“Doctor, it’s ok…”

“Nevertheless, I still like to check. Come on the the table.” Charlotte protested again but finally gave in. “Remove your skirt and underwear please.” Her face and arms glowing red, Charlotte did so. “Bend your legs…ah that’s good,” he said then started to prod her vulva with his gloved hands.

“Doctor…” she wailed from from her horizontal position. “Is this necessary? I’m fine, I don’t have…bladder…weakness,” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“You may think it’s fine but it usually isn’t. I need to perform a full urethra examination.”

“What?!” She knew what that word. “No, no, this is too far.” The student yanked up her clothes and announced, “I’m done here,” but just as she exited she felt a sting to her neck and was about to drop to the ground.

“Good job mum. Close up; I’ll deal with her,” Charles Shaw remarked. Quickly he dragged the unconscious girl back into his room. Placing the limb girl

Jennifer Thompson Profile

Name: Jennifer Thompson


Age: Around 17

Nationality: American

Diaper worn: Possibly pampers, goodnites pull ups, Depends (not sure which type), Tranquillity ATN (latest)

Using diapers for: Bedwetting, occasional/often day usage

Comments: Mother must always tape on her diaper at night at home without fail every night every week all year. Only once could she do it her herself as she was on a sleepover. In the morning, she lounges in her soaked diaper until she wants to remove it. More often than not, she waits or has to wait for her mother to untape her diaper in the morning. If that happens, she is not allowed to untape the diaper at all herself or touch it.

Jennifer is also “punished” by making to wear tape on diapers at home if she has wet  her panties. At school, she is allowed to wear goodnites for modesty sake, although they have risen up her clothes and her boyfriend and possibly others have seen it. This is called the “Three Day Rule”. Once at home, her mother removes her pull ups and puts her back in proper diapers (ATNs)  and makes her wear them but changes her regularly for hygiene’s sake. Sometimes she gets to wear the whole ATN since it’s not used. During hot or summer months however, her mother changes her ATN several hours to prevent infection. This “Three Day Rule” may be extended for a week or a few months, especially if Jennifer is sick and her mother thinks she needs to drink a lot and sleep more in the day. Her latest long “Three Day Rule” involved Jennifer using the ATNs in the day intentionally, sicne she said there’s no point in wearing a diaper and not using it. In previous times however, her mother would punish her more if she wet the day diapers or pull ups.

Her mother as placed her in ATNs for long car trips. She has been humiliated by being changed standing up in a ladies room, albeit in a stall but with other ladies noticing. She has also been changed on the ground while hiking. For some strange reason, Jennifer accepts this lifestyle.

Update: Mother diapers her almost 247 now. Only time she can wear panties  is to school with a pull up underneath.

Pictures of her:

Jennifer Thompson 1 Jennifer Thompson 2 Jennifer Thompson 3 Jennifer Thompson 4 Jennifer Thompson 5 Jennifer Thompson 6 Jennifer Thompson 7 Jennifer Thompson 8 Jennifer Thompson 9 Jennifer Thompson 10 Jennifer Thompson 11 Jennifer Thompson 12 Jennifer Thompson 13 Jennifer Thompson 14 Jennifer Thompson 15 Jennifer Thompson 16 Jennifer Thompson 17 Jennifer Thompson 18 Jennifer Thompson 19 Jennifer Thompson 20 Jennifer Thompson 21 Jennifer Thompson 22 Jennifer Thompson 23 Jennifer Thompson 24 Jennifer Thompson 25 Jennifer Thompson 26 Jennifer Thompson 27 Jennifer Thompson 28 Jennifer Thompson 29 Jennifer Thompson 30 Jennifer Thompson 31 Jennifer Thompson 32 Jennifer Thompson 33 Jennifer Thompson 34 Jennifer Thompson 35 Jennifer Thompson 36 Jennifer Thompson 37 Jennifer Thompson 38 Jennifer Thompson 39 Jennifer Thompson 40 Jennifer Thompson 41 Jennifer Thompson 42 Jennifer Thompson 43 Jennifer Thompson 44

The Break In

Mom and I walked gingerly down the stairs. We two females were from a family of six: Dad was overseas on a business trip, my older brother was at some science competition, my younger brother was at Scouts camp and my younger sister was overseas in college. I was dressed in a blue bra, pink panties, lose shorts and T-Shirt. Mom was in a skirt and sleeveless blouse. The noise from outside interrupted both of us and we thus decided to investigate. There were news reports of several break-ins in houses two blocks away. The problem may have been solved if we had a working alarm system. The problem was we didn’t, and the repairman would only be available a week later.

As we turned around the corner into the store room when suddenly, a shadowy figure jumped in front of us and mom was tackled. “Mmmph!!” She cried and so did I. The whole place was pretty dark and the only light I saw was a shiny object–it was a knife! Screaming, I tried to turn back to run but was interrupted by a booming voice.

“Girl, unless you want to see your mommy’s throat cut, you shut up and stay there!” I weighed my options for a few seconds but decided it was too risky to let my mom be injured or worse be killed. As I gave in and he barked, “hands on your head!” Complying, he prodded me to back up to the main living room. With my mom still hand-gagged and held at knife point, I was made to disconnect the phone line and destroy the SIM cards of my cell phone and mother’s. My lovely contacts were gone! I had no time to stop as he then instructed me to lead the way to my parent’s bedroom.

Once in, he then boomed, “ok girl, go to her drawer and take out one of her panties.”

“You pervert!” I yelled, knowing that he was planning a to use my mom’s underwear to gag her. “Shut your girly mouth! Just do as you’re told!” He replied, pressing the knife closer against my mother’s throat and causing her to scream a muffled scream. Looking at her pleading eyes, I gave in and extracted one of her beige translucent panties. Dragging my mother closer, I was instructed to quick insert the silky piece of underwear into her mouth as soon as he removed hand. With a ‘sorry mom’ look, I managed to do so, causing her to yelp more. Throwing me a roll of black duct tape that seemed to appear from nowhere, he ordered, “Tape her all around her jaw, at least three strips”. As Finished, he pinched my mom’s boobs to test the gag. “Good”, he remarked, then threw her face down on her bed. He finished her off binding her arms, wrists and ankles with plastic ties and threw her under the bed.

I attempted to try escape again and was about to throw a wild kick in his direction. Somehow, he must have read my thoughts as I was lifted up and came face to face with him and his foul stench. “Now, girlie, behave as we’re going to have fun.” I was carried to my own room, thrown to the floor and held down by his boot and the rummaging of drawers told me what was about to happen. What surprised me was the words “Choose your gag” as I was brought to look at my own panties.

I stared at my array of underwear from my white boyshorts to my translucent pink bikini cut undies and my black silk and satin thong panties. Dazed from the rushed of events, my head nodded in one direction and the perverted intruder commented “ah good choice but such a sexy pair of lingerie for a young girl.” Immediately, I was gasping for breath as he pinched my nose but that was followed by the silkiness of my blue bikini panties against my tongue. The ripping of tape was heard and the unwanted feeling of stickiness against my lips sealed most of the sounds from me.

I expected to be bound next, but instead I was almost squeezed by the hold of his arms and then felt him tug at my shorts. “Mmmpp!!!!” I cried. My struggles were of course futile like a small fish struggling against the hook of a fishing line. My shorts were lowered to my waist and I expected my underwear to follow but instead I was flipped on my back and the feeling of plastic ties came against my wrists. He’s tying me up before he does it, I thought, still struggling but expecting the worst. I’ll be losing my virginity not to some of the hot boys I always eyed but to some creep….

To my surprise, I felt coarse rope was felt around my waist. “Owmmm!” I cried and the rope was tighten but instead of just around my waist, I felt the rope passing between my buttocks, against my anus and up against my crotch area. “Mmmpppppppppppppphhhhhhhhh!!!” What was this?!

“Welcome, girl, to your crotch rope. You first time I should think,” he remarked, overjoyed. Crotch rope?!

A strange tingling sensation in my crotch as well as the pain of the coarse rope was followed by the lashing on my legs together. My struggling efforts were thwarted as I felt the ripple of sensations from my private part. “mmmp!” “mmmph!” I cried, less out of pain and more out of the strange feeling.

“Ahh,” the intruder exclaimed with a hint of satisfaction, “something a young teen like you have never experienced? Let me introduce to you your first orgasm and many more to come.” Orgasm?! I screamed through my panty gag and naturally I tried to struggle out of the tight bonds but he secured me further in a hogtie. Scooping me up, he dropped me back on my bed as another wave of the orgasm arosed.

“My, my look how stiff your nipples are,” he remarked, causing me to turn red with embarrassment. As I squirmed, he reached down and touched my left breast. “MMAAMMmmmph!” I exclaimed, knowing it was a feeling of arousal from both the stimulation against my clitoris and him rubbing my breasts. “Ah, doesn’t this feel good, girl? Nothing like your sex education class in school?” His teasing only caused me to scream even more due to the constant arousal rather that the strain from my bonds and gag.

His hand quickly moved to my other boob and I felt a shock of pain as he grasped my nipple and gave in a sharp twist. “Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked. Unable to answer, I glared at him but he simply said, “this will be good prep for you girlie.” This breast torture continued for a further few minutes before he withdrew his molesting. A rummaging sound was heard and the feeling of pieces of medical tape was felt against my breasts and a click sound was heard. Zing! Zap! a jolt of electrical current shocked my body. “Welcome to this timed device; you’ll get the shock every minute. It’s not fatal, don’t worry. And the tape is really strong and so are the wires so struggling is almost useless. Goody bye, enjoy the shocks girl,” he announced.

“AHHmmmm!!!” I continued to cry with each electric shock to my breasts. Suddenly, another sound was heard-; was the ‘torturer’ back? “Leanne!” A familiar voice cried. My dad swiftly yanked away the electric cables, and peeled off the tape around my jaw. Extracting my panties, I cried, “the rope!” and his confused look continued for a few more seconds until he saw what I meant. By the time he removed the tingling cord, my panties were wet from all the sexual excitement and my face was red from embarrassment. It too another few minutes before my bonds were finally removed and my mother was freed.

The end.

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