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


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

Part 1.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yesmmnurmm,” Laura responnded through the gag.

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

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

“Mmmph?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To Be Continued.

 

Castle Bond


Part One

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whmmm?” I queried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Part 2:

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

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

“But dad…”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

***
Part 3:

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Part 4:

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Part 5:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Part 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is a modern addition; the kingdom naturally wasn’t that advanced. As the room suggest, this is for medical play. As before, ladies and well gents must sign consent forms if they want to be naked and no excessive play will be allowed. Both these areas are off limits to children and young teens.” I heard couple of muttering of affirmative. No way should that happen.
We moved out into day light and by now, my knickers–the one in my mouth–was definitely soaking with all my saliva. It had not dried out my throat yet, but I guess that would change shortly. Johannes asked us to move single file along the walkway. Mum moved first, her mouth bulging with her high waist undies–I could see part of it stick out of her mouth. Dad followed after her. Next was Sayle with her husband steadying her, how cute. The red-headed Imogen, then Avena, then me and Jocasta, with my brother behind both of us. A couple of minutes later, I heard Johannes mention something when, WHUMP! I bumped into a frame.

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

“Hey, you alright?” I turned to see….

TBC

The Preventive Program


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

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

“But I’m not insane! Dad!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmmmwht?” I cried through the gag.

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

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

The next day

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

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

“Dimmmprs?” I cried again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cathy: What do they do you? Drugs?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Agmmmree,” the Chinese girl said.

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

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

“Wemmmbeoutmmmoon,” Claire argued.

“Bullmmmhit,” Freyja responded.

“Beposmmmtive,” Yan Ling added.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmmph?”

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

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

“Thank…you, Doctor?”

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

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

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

“So, what is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, they are.”

“Oh. What about that girl uh Freyja.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Few months later

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

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

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

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

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

The End.

A New Doctor


Trying to calm myself, I knocked rapidly on the door.

“Enter,” was the curt remark. Inside, I found two individuals, a grey-haired man, maybe in his fifties or sixties and a plumb lady with the name “Roberts” stencilled on her left breast.

“Doctor…Carter Jamieson?” The grey-haired man read out from his open folder.

“That’s me. Doctor…?”

“Henderson. George Henderson.” He gestured to the single seat in front of him. “I’ll be quick. First in your class in medicine. Recommended by lecturer to pursue any medical specialisation. Worked in young offender’s home, police behavioural department…you haven’t any medical experience, have you?”

“No but…”

“And you specifically and only wrote down ‘mental health’ as opposed to other medical issues. Why?”

“I’ve always an interest in cure the mental well-being of individuals. I believe any state of mind can be rectified and…”

“Ok, we’re in a hurry today. Nurse, give Rd. Jamieson the file so he can read as we walk.” Before I could even open the folder, they shot up and exited back into the hallway. Scurrying to catch up, I open the file. It was a long ‘essay’ reporting about an 18-year-old female named Catherine Granger. She had a history of anger tantrums and cases of violence, the latest destroying university property, injuring two tutors and four lecturers, causing them to suspend her and her scholarship.

“Here we are,” the nurse announced, swiping a card to reveal a rather small room with a large black screen in front and another door.

“Wait here until you are called,” the doctor said, as the nurse buzzed the two of them through the door. As it banged shut, I felt a wave of helpless surround me. Calming myself again, I look around and saw a switch near the screen. Curiosity building up, I flicked it and the screen rolled up to reveal a two-way mirror. There, the senior doctor and the nurse stood around a young girl, most definitely the subject Catherine, who was dressed in a dark blue spaghetti top, black bra straps visible, and in tight shiny black jeans. The three of them were definitely engaged in conversation but there seemed to be no audio speakers around. Having no ability to lip read, I could only guess they were arguing about the girl’s anger problems. Suddenly, the girl shot up and definitely shouted at the two medical staff. She ran towards the locked door, slamming violently against it. She spun around and was about to strike Dr Henderson when Nurse Roberts grabbed her and to my shock, the doctor stabbed her arm! The teenager suddenly collapsed down on the ground.

“Hey, let me in!” I cried, pressing against the locked doorknob. It finally opened.

“I said for you to wait Jaimeson,” Henderson said irritably. “But since we let you in, help Miss Granger out of her clothes.”

“Out of…her CLOTHES?!” I cried.

“Hey, you want to pipe down? She’s a violent girl and had to be sedated. We are preparing her for the jacket.” I turn to see the nurse already yanking off the girl’s top to reveal her full bra. “Go on help her.”

“Is this right…legal? I thought we talk thoroughly with patients first, then help them into jackets clothed.”

“She’s really violent and was going to assault me. Now, help Nurse Johnson; the drug won’t keep her unconscious for long.”

I hesitated then bent down. The nurse had already unbuttoned her jeans to reveal pink bikini knickers underneath. The nurse turned her around with some of my help and unhooked her bra. That off, she peeled off the lower underwear and turned the girl back flat down. Immediately, despite my medical education, I felt a sharp erection.

“Check her for contraband and items,” was the order. I started to question it, but the nurse proceeded as instructed checking her hair, ear lobes, nostrils, parting her lips, then searching, or rather quite fondling her breasts, poking her fingers up her anus and parting her vaginal lips.

“Clean,” she said, snapping off her gloves. Out of nowhere, the nurse produced a thick white straitjacket and something else which appeared to be a pair or slightly thicker ‘granny knickers’. Those went up to cover her vulva. Then, with more prodding from Henderson, I helped the nurse slip the ‘sleeping’ girl’s arms into the straitjackets sleeves. Instead of the single or double straps for the front there were three and at the back there were four instead of three. The nurse sealed the back straps first and there were buckled instead of Velcro. She then, with some of my help, folded Catherine’s arms horizontally, threading them through two loops before sealing the front bonds. Finally, the ‘crotch strap’ locked her into place. Testing the ‘gown’ for any loose parts, the nurse declared the unconscious patient ready.

“Ok thanks, nurse. I have to move on somewhere. Dr Jamieson, perhaps you and the nurse like to help our patient to the vehicle?”

That vehicle turned out to be a white rather unmarked van and boy was the girl heavy to drag up into the back. “One last thing, ankle cuffs,” the nurse said.

“We’ve done her like a prisoner to Guantanamo Bay,” I protested.

“Hey Doc, ever had a patient kick you in the balls?” The cuff went on and suddenly, the girl stirred. “Wh..” She mumbled.

“Oh yeah, this as well,” and to further shock, the nurse presented a panel gag–I’ve seen BDSM parties before–which was expertly locked around the girl’s head, turning her conscious cries into whimpered sounds.

“Let’s roll,” the nurse said in a wall intercom.

The drive took around twenty minutes and the vehicle’s noise masked any conversation. Actually, there was none since the nurse stared away from me and the girl across from me was tightly gagged. I could definitely see her protest through the gag and shift around in her bonds and was quite sympathetic towards her. Moreover, I was quite shocked over the series of events from the interview to the striping to the straitjacket and now to this ride. The vehicle jerked to a stop and the nurse swung the doors open. Without any bidding, I unbuckled the straitjacketed girl and we both helped her down through the security card-locked doors. The reception area was nearby and the nurse trotted over, signing away at the counter.

“Hey doctor, I can take it from here. You may need to get your administrative stuff cleared, get the security cards and what not. I think Doc Henderson said to report at 0830 tomorrow? There are bunks. Night.” With that, she pulled the poor, still quite groggy girl out of sight.

Still bewildered, I took several deep breaths before turning to the duty nurse and getting the necessary items ready. “Through those doors, take two rights pass through locked doors and there’s the doctor’s sleeping quarters,” she said. “Oh, Doc said you might want to read this,” I was given a thick folder titled, “Henderson Mental Hospital: Policies, and Solutions.”

To Be Continued

 

 

The Diaper Lover and the Intruder


“Freyja, you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Fine Mom, I’ll be fine. I’m eighteen years old. I can manage myself.”

“Well, alright, but remember to call or text me if there’s anything.”

“Go on your trip Mom. I can manage myself. Really.” I tensed up for and additional sentence of anxiety but she finally gave me a hug and minutes later, she and her luggage were transported away. I watched as the taxi moved away from sight before scampering up to my room. Locking the door, I drew the curtains before dragging out the large cardboard box from under my bed. With the help of a box cutter, my body trembled as I slit the cardboard open, revealing the dark blue travel bag-size pack underneath. I continued to tremble as I used my fingers to slowly tear open the dotted line, despite it having a ‘scissors’ symbol. Finally, the plastic gave way to reveal the many rectangular shapes. Wiping my sweaty hands clean, I extracted one of the diapers out.

Yes diapers. Not something a senior teenager would wear or one who’s not suffering from any bladder control. Alas, I, Freyja Davidson, was a life long diaper lover. I have always been fascinated ever since I was a late potty trainer at three years old. Well, it wasn’t the fact that I got out of baby diapers late, but also growing watching cartoons and TV shows with young characters wearing for need and others for reasons such as comedy. Then in between movies and TV series came adverts of cute little children wearing nappies. So by my early teens, I had images of diapers floating around my head and the yearning to have that soft paddding wrapped around my waist/between my legs. I always yearned to pee in something like that so much that I tried to pee in a sanitary pad and well, ended up soaking my just the pad but my panties and the floor!

But now in my eighteenth year, my dream had come true. I had managed to save enough money and secretly bought a pack of adult diapers via the internet. To be on the safe side, I gave them a false name and the address of my neighbour who was away on overseas work but I knew that he kept a set of keys under his doormat so it was easy to retrieve it. I held the diaper in my hands, like a dog getting his largest bone, like a child with a shiny new toy. Elated beyond words, I ran my hands across the plastic and cotton-like material for severa minutes….

Ok, ok, time to fulfil my mission. Double checking my curtains were drawn, I dropped my jeans and panties off and pulled out the item from the pharmacy bag. I wiped my vulva and crotch area clean before spreading some icky and cold anti-rash cream. Then, I unfolded the diaper and laid it on the bed. No silly girl, I scolded myself, the other way around, tabs behind. Lying down on it, I finally drew the front side across my naked front and drew the top left tape first, then the bottom right and the remaining tabs. No, it still feels uncomfortable. I stood up and adjust two tabs so it felt more snug around me then adjust the sides and the lower crotch area. YES! I screamed. Drawing open my closet door, I examined my self. Diaper lover with a diaper on! I started dancing wildly across the room, enjoying the feeling. Collapsing on the floor, I again ran my hands around the diaper. Oh man, I don’t care if I fail next semster. I don’t care if I can’t find an internship. I’ll just wear diapers and….

And diapers aren’t just for wearing, I told myself. So I stood up and tried to relieve myself for the first time not in a toilet. Come on, come come on, nothing. Ok, that’s because your bladder isn’t that full. I head to the toilet and drank tap water; it should be clean enough. Nothing. I poured another cup but still nothing. I sat on my toilet bowl and tried. STILL NOTHING! Damnit, pee, please…the room light suddenly flew. What the heck, I thought, flicking the room and bathroom lights. A power failure now? Just when I’m so living my dream. Cursing silently, I groped around and found my flashlight and found my jeans. Yanking it up, I found then could hardly fit around my new ‘underwear’. What the heck I thought, I’m home alone and headed out towards the fuse box. Suddenly, just as I twisted the handle to the creaking wooden door next to the kitchen, a gloved hand wrapped itself around my jaw.

“MMMMPH!” I cried out loud and started kicking wildly then felt a circular object pressed against my cheek. “Honey, stop this or your head with be blown off. Got it?” The threat was too deadly to ignored and I did. “My hand will come off, you don’t scream and put your hands on your head. Clear?” Shivering in fright, I did so, and suddenly the lights came back on. “March, upstairs, to your room.” Back inside, I was ordered to sit on my bed and came face to face with a masked intruder. “I ask the questions, you answer directly. Who else is home?”

“Just….me,” I muttered.

“Answer clearly. The car is still in the garage. Who else is here?”

“Just me. Please, take what you…”

“I said short answers. When will your parents be back?”

“My…mother is away on a business trip…” Suddenly I saw him staring down. “Wait,” he exclaimed. “Are you wearing a diaper?!”

To Be Continued.

“I…” I started, knowing it was embarrassing to be be found wearing diapers. But being discovered by an intruder holding me at gun point was something that erases your embarrassment and just stuns you.

“Speak up? Why are you wearing them and not…” he pointed at my panties on the ground. “Those?”

“I…”

“I? You incontinent?”

Incontinent? Oh yes, the medical term for one with no bladder control. “Uh….”

“Ok, understandable.”

What did I just say? A big lie. No, I’m not without bladder control. I just don’t want to be held hostage by you. Maybe that lie will cause to leave?

“Please…” I finally blurted out. “Take…”

“I’m not here to take anything. I just need a place to stay. By the end of Sunday, I’ll go. But right now, I need to stay. Hands down,” he motioned me. That’s some comfort I thought.

“What your name?” Why should I tell you? I thought. Just leave and let me stay in peace with my diapers. I told him. “Nice name. But you don’t look Nordic.” Why thank you.

“Ok Freyja, here’s the deal. I’m not going to harm you if you do what I say. Got it?” Well, hey maybe, but you’re still pointing the gun at me. I finally nodded. What else could I do?

“Ok, first, it’s early but I want you to sleep. Go put on your night wear.” I immediately got up then hesitated. He wants me to take off my clothes…

“Ok,” he read my mind. Open one closet door. Change behind there but no tricks or you be sorry.” One part of me told me to race to the bathroom lock it but judging the distance, I doubt I could dash that fast and he’ll probably storm in. Still shivering, I got out my PJs and changed, folding away my bra–I didn’t want him to see it.

“Your diaper still ok? No need a change?” Technically no and no, I didn’t want to change it with him here. I shookmy head. Still lying about the diaper.

“Open you mouth,” was the next command and one I didn’t expect.

“Wh…y?”

“Do as I say,” then I saw the strip of cloth in his hand. “No, please you don’t need to gag me no…mmmmp,” he tied the cloth across my mouth and secured it, cutting into my lips.

“Hands in front,” he said pulling them in front of me and before I could protest further, he wrapped silver duct tape around me. I was made to lie flat on my bed and the final touch was rope that bound my ankles and further attached to one leg of my bed.

“Good night Freyja,” he announced, switching off the room lights and taking a seat on my sofa. Yeah, and I am going to sleep tight alright, though really, the bonds weren’t that tight. In other circumstances, I would have tried to break loose, but his gun was still gripped and pointing in my direction. Great way to start my weekend alone, I thought. I never liked sleeping back down flat so I turned, only to have him interject, “if you want to turn, turn to the other side.”

“Mmm,” I did so, not expecting that. Gee, is he going to stay up watching how I sleep? Then minutes past slowly and I still didn’t see the gun drop from his hand. Just then, I felt my bladder signal. Great, I need to pee but I’m bound and gagged with a stranger in my room. I can’t…I have a diaper. Damnit, you tried to pee earlier but only now you want to. Great going Freyja, I told myself and tried to sqeeze my legs. The diaper just felt thicker. I can’t hold it ….I finally peed, the urine striking the diaper and warming up my crotch.

To Be Continued.

I peed! Look mom, your only daughter peed in an adult diaper! At eighteen years old! I ran that thought over and again as the warmth crept all over my crotch and into my anal region. With my hands bound infront and touching the shape of the diaper, I could feel the outline grow bigger. I turned my head to look at my captor but he was still in the same position. Did he see me pee? Well he does “know” that I don’t have bladder control, thanks to my big lie earlier. Oh yay, I’m stuck with him and this lie until Sunday….

BANG BANG!!” My ears were deafened by the explosions as more masked men burst in, but these had the words SWAT on them. One of them reached over and removed my gag and cut away my bonds. “You’re safe now, Miss,” he said helping me up. Just as I stood up, my PJ bottoms dropped, revealing my diaper….

I woke up with a sweat and immediately shifted. No, my hands were bound in front of me and no, my gag was still on. Nothing had changed. “Good morning,” I then saw him towering over me. Darn, was it morning already. “Not a scream when I remove the gag.” How could I scream? My mouth was dried out from the gag.

“Th…anks,” I said, though wish the thanks would include him leaving and leaving me alone.

“I’ll let you change and shower. You would probably need a change.” I looked down but there wasn’t much of a visible bulge. Well, I do want to get out of the damp diaper.

“Here’s the deal. You can shower but one, the door remains open two, you have ten minutes.” He handed me a clean towel and one new diaper from the open packet. “Go.”

I gather a new set of clothes and raced to the toilet. I had planned to admire myself topless in the diaper but I was on this time limit. Then my bladder signally again. Heck, I thought looking down, I’m sure it can hold more and peed again in the diaper before untaping it. I didn’t have a rubbish bin in the toilet so left it on the floor and started the show. It was a ood one but I had to hasten it due to the time limit. Drying off, I clipped on my bra then remembered I had the new diaper. And I’m  suppose to be this ‘incontinent girl’ I remembered. Not wanting to lie down outside naked in front of him, I lowered the toilet bowl cover and taped up the new diaper, this time with a better result.

“Nice T-shirt,” he commented as I got out in time. It’s just a rock band T-shirt I thought.

“Open up,” he gestured and I didn’t protest this time as I was gagged again, this time with a thicker piece of cloth. “Hands of you head, move to the kitchen.” Usually, breakfast was in the dining room, but he instead dragged one of the chairs from that area into the kitchen. Before I could adjust myself, he hand bound my arms to the chair’s arms with plastic ties and then my ankles to each corresponding leg. Gee, this guy really takes precautions.

“How do you like your toast?” He asked then giving a short laugh, he held up his hands until I nodded my which number. I had envisioned a nice pancake breakfast but darn all I got was toast and cereal. He even fed me the food and spoon fed the milky tea –“I don’t want you near the cup”. Would I have really tried to have spilt the hot drink on him.

“Ok,” he said, wiping my mouth.

“Now what?” I asked, squirming.

“Your diaper ok? You don’t need a change?” Part of me wanted to just to get released but I shook my head.

“What’s the wifi password?”

“Why?”

“Just answer,” he said, drawing out his weapon and I gave it.

“Good girl, open your mouth again.”

“I’ll be quiet please no….mmmmmmph,” he stuffed a piece of cloth inside then pasted two sticky pieces of tape over it. “Oh, sorry, you can’t look,” he said, and my eyes were covered by a towel.

Great, I thought, bound, gagged, blindfolded and diapered. What a way to spend my Saturday.

To Be Continued.

Anyone looking at me this instant would think its the ideal kinky scene–bondage and diapers. But I was only interested in the kink of the later, never expecting the former. “Whhmmnnedthwimmffm,” I grunted trying to say: What do you need the wifi for?

“Listen honey, I don’t want to gag you tighter or you’ll suffocate. Now, please, be silent ok?”

“Ommmph,” I said dejectedly. So much in trying to be friendly. Ok, next I tried my bonds. If last night’s tape and rope restricted my movement, these plastic ties or handcuffs were tight beyond belief. I was definitely stuck to the chair. Well, I could try to shift, but that would only alert him again. Oh darn it!

So for the next hour or so, I could just sit there, my movements really restricted, my sense of sight and my voice curtailed. But I still had my ears and heard him type away, possibly on his labtop, or maybe mine, I wouldn’t know. Only occasionally would he grunt or say the word ‘yes’. What was he doing? Why did he need to camp out at my place? What sinister plot was he conducting or did he do? Rob a bank? Online theft? Hacking? Or worst, something like murder?

I ran the various criminal activities through my head until once again my bladder gave its signal. Oh bother, I thought. I could give him a signal through my gag that I needed to use the…wait, I’m diapered. And last night, he thought I’m an incontinent person, thanks to my partial answer. Well, I guess I will…I let my pee flow out, the same warmth feeling around my crotch and anal region. It was a long pee and I squirmed and gave a soft grunt through my gag. Did he notice? No indication. Did the diaper hold all the pee? Or did part of it leak out onto my sweat pants? Again, I imagined the scenario: The police coming to my rescue only to find me diapered….

“Bring, bring bring!” A familiar sound jolted me. It continued and then my blindfold was removed. “Phone call,” he said the obvious, the house phone in his hand. “You answer, and tell the person you are fine and not to come here. Any trick words, and you’ll be sorry. Got it?”

I half nodded and the tape and peeled off and he extracted the sooggy cloth. “H..ello,” I croaked, my mouth dried out from the gag.

“Freyja?” It was my mom. “What took you so long to answer?”

“Uh, I was in the toilet mom,” I lied, which well technically was right. I did just ‘use the loo’.

“Everything alright?” I saw him hold his weapon.

“Uh, yes mom.” No it’s not. I’m held hostage and your daughter is wearing a damp diaper.

“Did you have a good breakfast?” What?

“Yes mom. I can manage myself.”

“Well, ok. Remember to switch off the stove and electricity after you are done.” Sheesh, I know that! I’m not a kid.

“Yes.”

“Ok, message or call if you need me. Bye.” Click.

“That’s good,” he nodded. Well yeah, I thought. Now he knows my mom is really away and he can hold me like this.

“Wha..t next?” I asked then saw him fold up the saliva soaked cloth.

“Noo…please,” I pleaded. “Uh, my mouth is dry.” He looked at me, nodded and poured some water. “That’s enough,” he said, part of the water dripping down my chin. “You’ll peed it all away.” Heh.

Without protest, the cloth was eased back in my mouth and sealed with fresh tape and the blindfold came on. Again, I just sat there, listening to his typing and grunting. Another slight pee came and I wondered how soaked the diaper was. The packet said it could hold nine ‘droplets’. How much was that in terms of urine?

Finally, what seemed like ages later, my blindfold was lifted. “Lunchtime,” he announced, but instead of removing my gag, he headed to the fridge. “Sandwiches ok?” It had to be since I couldn’t really talk. He made a fast ham and tomato sandwich and just before he sliced it, he asked, “Are you also bowel incontinent?”

To Be Continued

Bowel incontinent?! You mean shit unintentionally? No…I shook my head. “Good, I don’t have to worry about smelly poo then.” Thankfully, he finally removed the stuff gag but before I could say anything, he dampened my mouth and placed a sandwich inside. With the continuous feeding, I was in a way still ‘gagged’. Finally, he gave me some water then asked if I needed a change.

“Yes,” I replied, really wanting to get out of this chair. My bonds were cut off, but that was brief respite as my hands were bound in front of me and I was marched back up to my room. “Ok,” he cut the tape off and pointed to the pack of diapers.

“Uh,” I began.

“What? Change, oh, very well,” he thankfully realised I needed privacy. “Wait,” he plastered a piece of tape around my mouth. “You don’t need your mouth to change. Hurry up.”

Just as he left, I quickly yanked off my sweatpants and saw the indicator mark on the diaper was almost gone. I wiped down quickly and lying back down on my bed, I taped on a new one. Just as I pulled up my pants, my eyesight focused on my curtains. My windows were facing part of the street. Maybe I  could get part of it open and signal to someone below! I silently moved to the curtain, parted it and pulled the handle of the window. “Creak…” SHIT!

Before I knew it, my masked captor burst into the room, levelling his weapon at me. “WHAT THE HELL! GET AWAY FROM THAT WINDOW NOW!” He bellowed.

I stepped back but he moved over and threw me down on the bed. “You little devil, you  think you can escape huh!” He slapped me on my cheek, OW! “You think you can escape huh!” Ow, ow! He slapped me again. “Plmmm, Plmmm, Please!” I cried back, the tape partly peeling off. “Please! Stop! I just want to be left alone and enjoy diapers! Please….” he hand gagged me.

“What? I thought you have to wear diapers, not enjoy them?”

“I’m a diaper lover,” I confessed. “Not one without bladder con….” He slapped me again.

“Bitch! You lied to me!”

“I didn’t….mmmmph!” A cloth was jammed into my mouth again, part of it sticking out. Tape sealed it in and before I could cry again, he pulled me up.

“Strip,” he ordered, pointing his weapon at me.

“Whmmm?!” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Strip, you diaper girl. Or I’ll do it for you.” My skin glowing red from the slapping and the threat, I slowly did so, finally revealing my dark blue bra and well diapers. “Face down!” Just as I did so, I felt something cold and metallic  surround my wrists–I was handcuffed. “Mmmph!” I cried.

“Shut the hell up,” he growled and then I was lifted in a fireman’s carry and brought back down, this time to the living room. The gag was peeled or rather yanked off but before I could protest, he parted my mouth and jammed spherical inside. Straps cut against the side of my mouth and they were tightened and locked behind my head. “Mmmm…” I groaned softer. What was this.

“I said shut up!” He shouted into my ear. I just couln’t stop groaning  through this new gag as my ankles were once again bound with rope, then my legs bent and more rope attached my cuffed wrists and ankles, effectively hogtying me.

To Be Continued

With my legs bent at an angle–nearly ninety degrees–but with my arms also attached to the bindings, I forced to roll uncomfortably back and forth. Each time I did so, my C cup breasts would be squashed against the cold marble floor, causing me to yelp. After much rolling and groaning, I found I could lie to one side, but soon enough that would cause my bare arm on that side to go numb. So I just kept rolling from side to side the whole afternoon. Once again, at some point, my bladder gave its signal and I let it go again, the pee warm up my vulva and butt. Damn this binding, I thought. Ok, so I lied to him, but that wasn’t really my fault. Did it really warrant my semi-naked in my bra and this ridiculous binding and ball in my mouth?

“Beep, boop beep!” My ears heard another familiar tune. That was my cell phone!!! Perhaps it was one of my friends and he would undo this binding and let me reply. I tensed up and waited, but that failed to happen until I heard another message tone. Then another seconds later. Finally silence. Shit, shit, what happened? Oh damnit, he must have messaged back. Who was it? Which college or school mate? Which friend? Maybe they’ll come over, I thought. Then I’ll be rescued and this whole predicament will be over. But then my friends would see me with a diaper on. I’ll be the butt of all jokes for ages. Good going Freyja….

It was perhaps maybe just over an hour later which I felt another bodily signal. albeit not from my bladder. It was my anal region and it told me I need to take a dump. Yeah, ok, call it shit if you like. “Mmmmph,” I called through the gag. “Hemmmmph,” I called twice before footsteps came.

“What,” he grumbled levelling the gun at me.

“Immmneedtooopmmmm,” I tried to say ‘I need to poo’ in gag speak.

He just turned away. No, please. “Pllmmmmm,” I groaned, trying to squirm towards him. “Ireallnmmmtopmmm.” I really need to poo.

Thankfully, he turned back and still pointing the gun at my forehead, he eased the ball open. Saliva drooled out. “Please, I need to use the toilet. I need to…poo,” I croaked.

“You have a toilet on,” he cackled and lifted the ball back up. I shook my head wildly. “No, please, I don’t want to go it the diaper. Please, let me use the toilet.”

“No,” he replied. “Open back up.”

“Please!” I started pleading wildly, my anus really signalling. “Please, I don’t want to make a mess in…” He shooked his head but thankfully undid the rope bounds. My ankles were still bound so he dragged me all way to the nearest toilet. “Ok, do it,” he said then noticed my binding. “What the hell,” he grumbled, switching my cuffs to the front so that I could, with some difficulty, undo the diaper.

“Ok,” he gestured, still standing there.

“Please,” I just said. Oh my gosh, is he going to?

“Shit, Freyja,” he gestured. “I’m not leaving you out of sight.”

WHAT?! I screamed in my mind. Unable to see any way out, I didn’t argue and now with my crotch exposed to a strange masked man, I did my business. Naturally, I was red with embarrassment all over, having my own modesty violated. Damnit! I screamed in my mind, I’ll get you back for all this.

My business over, it was a pain trying to wipe clean with my hands cuffed in front of me. Just as I twisted around to hit the flush, he did so then he actually taped the diaper back up around me. In another scenario, I would have said thanks, but that was a little shock. Back out, he was about to reposition me in the hogtie when I asked to stretch. “Please, Mister,” I begged, “My arms and legs really ache.”

Staring at me, he thought for a few seconds but then nodded. It wasn’t much of a relief, but at least it was something before I was re-cuffed and the ball jammed into my mouth. It was back again to another session of squirming around, but as I did so, I felt the diaper loose. I had read forums and blogs online where they said diaper tapes would be loosen if you untape the re-tape the diaper. Shit, would it fall off?

Just as I ran this thought through my mind, I felt him touch my ropes and thankfully I was free from the hogtie. “Dinner time,” he announced and I was back again in the kitchen. This time, my hands were simple kept cuffed behind the chair’s back while he tied a rope around my naked torso, and again attached my ankles with zip ties to the chair.  Less than forty minutes later, I was finally relieved of the ball in my mouth, the saliva sphere resting against my chin as he forked up a pile of spaghetti.

To be Continued.

He lifted the load of spaghetti up. “Can, I please have my hands free to eat?” I asked.

“No. Not with that stunt earlier.”

Bleah. “I’m cold,” I told the truth, shivering.

“It’s not too bad,” he remarked. “Now, open up, or I won’t feed you.” Dejected, I did so, and he wiped the sauce that stain my lips. So kind. After a few more feedings, he turned to his own plate. He lifted part of his mask and then literally ‘whollopped’ half of the plate before stopping and looking at me.

“So you don’t have a bladder problem but suddenly you put on diapers,” he said. I didn’t answer. “Why?” Darn, here it comes.

I still didn’t answer so he asked again. “I..just like them.”

“Why?” Oh dear, it’s becoming an interrogation.

“Just, that I like them.”

“To pee in them?”

“Uh,” how do I explain this? “It’s just the comforting feeling,” I said.

“Oh, the softness,” he remarked. I didn’t say yes though that was the main reasoning. He fed me another scoop then stopped. “Is it sexual to you?”

“Uh, no,” I said, though yes I didn’t feel aroused a bit. That was before you stormed in and held me like this.

“And this is the first time you are wearing? How much did it cost?” I answered as he fed me.

“Do you parents know?”

“No. My mother doesn’t.” When will this end?

“Father?” I didn’t answer. “Ok, sorry to ask about him. I never knew my parents…oops.”

So ok, now I know a fact about him. “What did you need the internet for?”

“It’s a secret.”

“But…I just told you…”

“Girl..Freyja, the less you know about then better.”

“Not fair,” I whined as he cleared up. “Who messaged me earlier.”

“Your friend Cathy. She wanted to ask you out to a movie.”

And you said no to her in reply. Darn it! He saw my look then moved over to me. “Look, it’s of course not your ideal weekend. But I’ll make it up to you with some movie; I’m sure you have a DVD collection.” I do, but I would rather watch recent releases than old ones. He lifted up the ball. “Please, no, I’ll be quie..mmmmph,” he still jammed it inside.

“You are nice diaper Freyja. But still not so trustworthy.” I was released but allowed to walk freely up to my room. The cuffs were removed then still in his sight, he rummaged through my drawers and found a spaghetti top dress. “I think you’ll look nice in this, put it on.”

It wouldn’t exactly match my bra colour but I wasn’t in the mood to change out to something else. Dress on, he switched my bonds to tape. While that wasn’t exactly a relief, I was glad the tight metallic cuffs were off. Another relief came as the ball gag–yes I learnt it name–was changed to tape with stuffing. In the TV room, after taping my ankles, he pulled out a series of DVDs and started pointing at them. None of them seemed ideal at all, but I finally gestured at one. “The Wedding Date,” he read. “Never seen it but ok.” So there I was, taped up and gagged in a dress, with an intruder.

To Be Continued.

The movie, if you haven’t watched it, was about a lady who hires an escort to join her in her half sister’s wedding, where the best man is her ex-fiance. With some twist or twists, the movie ends with the escort becoming romantically involved with the girl and turning into the best man. Not the best evening at all. As the movie progressed and the protagonist flirted or was being enthralled by her escort, my captor movie closer and closer towards me, until his arm was around my shoulder. I gave a yelp through the stuff gag but he didn’t move away and instead held me tight against him as the characters on screen began to have sex. As I watched, I slowly began to feel and arousal across my body, one that I have had since I met my first crush at twelve. And that guy was now in loe with another girl.

As the movie neared its final part with more romantic scenes, my bladder again signalled and whih no way out, I released its contents. “Mmmm,” I groaned through the gag then did so as the pee continued. I felt not only the usual warmth but a small ‘click’ as my urination was done. Rats, the tapes were really getting loose. The masked captor turned towards me and asked, “Freyja did her wee, wee?” Red in the face, I only could half nod.

“Aw,” he said then glanced at his watch. “Let’s end here. Bed time.” The movie wasn’t that great, but neither could I protest as he scooped me up and carried me one hand on my back and the other under my knees. Back in my room, my bonds were undone and he told me to change to my sleepwear.

“Mmmmprv,” I said the word ‘privacy’.

“No, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he said but I shook my head in protest. No way I was getting nude in front of him!!!

“Listen Freyja,” he pulled out his weapon, “I’m not going to ask politely again. Change out. Or I’ll change you myself.” I still shook my head. I don’t think you’ll do it, or kill me, I thought.

“Damn it!” He yanked down the straps of my dress and of course it fell down, but my diaper did as well. I shrieked and turned around quickly with my back towards him.

“Aw, little Freyja lost her diaper,” he cooed, and I turned red again.

“Ok, why don’t you lie down and put a new ‘love toy’ on.” I just stood there. If I did so, he would see my naked crotch.

“Ok, we’ll do it my way,” he said and I squeal as he pulled me down on the bed. My left arm was immediately handcuffed to the edge of metal frame of my bed and I immediately struggled until the weapon was inched from my face.

“The more you struggle, the more cuts you get or worse, you get a broken wrist,” he hissed at me. “Now, be a good girl and stay still.” I glared at him and squealed but he simply move down. The next thing I knew, he hands were wiping my crotch with the baby wipes. The wiping felt like rape–though  I never had sex before, and I kept groaning and protesting through my gag. Then, he swiftly laid a new diaper underneath and taped it tightly on.

“There, you see? All done.” I shivered as he recuffed my hands behind me and brought me to the toilet and removed my gag. “You need a good brush,” he commented and brushed my teeth. With the lingering taste of tooth paste in my mouth, I couldn’t say a word as he jammed yet another cloth across my mouth, cleave gagging me again. “Ok, are you going to be a good girl and wear your PJs?” he as he uncuffed me.

“Mmm,” and he allowed me to turn around so my breasts weren’t exposed to him. I was yanked back on the bed and the same night restraints applied–wrists taped in front of me, ankles tied. Then, a blindfold was added. “Mmmmph?” I questioned this, then felt him slide down next to me. “I need a proper sleep in a bed,” he commented. The final touch was him cuffing his wrist to my bound arms, so that was no way I could move suddenly. “Good night Freyja. I hope you don’t pee too much in your new diaper.”

To Be Continued

Oh My gosh, Oh My Gosh! Some one had just touched me ‘down there’! I had been molested!!! Ok, it was due to the fact that I didn’t obey my captor. But that didn’t give him the right to put on a diaper on me. Wait, a diaper. You Freyja chose to buy and wear diapers. You chose to be the diaper lover. But I didn’t chose to be bound and gagged and blindfolded…

As I ran these thoughts through my head, I heard his rhythmic breathing. Yeah, well at least he didn’t plug my ears. But why can’t I see your full face? Yeah you don’t want me see your face in case I can tell the police. But tell them what? That you touched my pussy without my permission? That you diapered me? Well that’s because I chose to wear them. What a story the police would hear….At least he doesn’t snore, I thought. but some minute comfort while I’m bound, gagged and blindfolded. And…oh wait, what’s that feeling? Oh gosh, I’m getting aroused thinking about all this. Darn….

With him next to me, my sleep was even more uncomfortable than the night before, so much that I had to be shaken to be waken up next morning. “Up and early today,” he announced, as the soaked cleave gag was removed. Being a gentleman for the moment, he gave me a small drink.

I was about to say something when he lowered my PJ bottoms. “Aw, not so wet eh?” Again I turned red in the face and mumbled something like ‘what the hell?!’

Being brought up, my bonds were removed and I thought I would be allowed to bath but he stalled me. “Why do you use up your diaper first,” he said.

“What?!” I cried then he hand gagged me.

“Softer. Why don’t you pee and use up your diaper?” WHAT?! I cried silently.

“But….”

“Do it Freyja.” There wasn’t a gun pointed at me but I didn’t want to argue again. And yeah, I did need to pee so I did, partly squatting to do so. “Let me see,” he pulled down my pants again. “Better.” Too embarrassed to talk, I tried to turn to the bathroom but he forced yet again that ball gag in my mouth. “You don’t need to talk while showering, same time,” he said. Feeling more violated, I scrubbed furiously ‘down there’ as the water struck my body and gag. Damnit, please let this end…Towelling off, I just realised I entered the bathroom without a new change of clothes and even ‘underwear’–bra and diapers. Shit, shit, shit! That means I have to change outside in front of him! Throwing on my old night clothes, I exited slowly.

“Ah, just over nine minutes,” he claimed. “Oh, you can’t go down like this. Here,I picked out clothes for you,” he pointed at a purple bra, one of my short pleated skirt, and a translucent top. And there was a freshly laid out diaper.

“CmmmIplschammaln,” I tried to say ‘Can I please change alone’.

“No, no, not after yesterday’s stunt.” SHIT. “I won’t deliberately peek, but I’m not leaving.” Sighing, I turned my back towards him and got my top off first, clipping on the bra and then the new shirt. Then, as best as I could, I wiped my crotch and arse clean with the wipes and lying down, I taped on a new diaper. Skirt on, he nodded. “I suppose you hate that gag,” he said. Yes, please, remove it, I thought. He did so, but replaced it with one with a me sucking a tube and a leather panel. “Panel gag,” he said and I learnt something new. With my hands cuffed behind my back, it was down for breakfast.

To Be Continued.

My ankles once more were bound to each leg of the chair with zip ties while rope again secured me to the chair, passing above and below my boobs. The cuffs were switched to the front but that was little comfort since my arms and hands were stiffened by last nights bonds. As I watched him work up what looked like a large breakfast, my thoughts wondered back to the day before. He had seen me defecate and helped me tape up my diaper. He had made me dress down to only my bra and well diapers. Then he taped up a new diaper on me, thanks to that lose diaper and the fact I didn’t obey him. Yes, so he touched me, he molest me. He’s a creep. But wait, so far he’s fed me, not physically assaulted me, and while he did touch my pussy, he didn’t do so for sexual advances. So is he really a captor?

“Here you are, pancakes and bacon and syrup. There’s not enough butter in your fridge.” Of course not, but coincidentally, I don’t like a lot of butter on my pancakes, how nice. He gingerly removed the gag and boy did I really want it out. It was like sucking on a tube–no not a pacifer. As he cut up the pancakes, I tried to form a pleading look and drawing up my confidence, I asked, “Please, sir, can I have my hands free to eat?”

His masked face turned and stared at me for a few seconds before he reached over and undid one cuff, linking it to the arm rest. “One hand only.” It had to be more than enough. “Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t push it Freyja,” he grumbled, then lifted his mask started eating.

“I…I won’t,” I added, not wanting to get anymore torturous bindings like yesterday. “I don’t want to be forced changed.”

He stopped. “What? You disobeyed me yesterday. In any case, you like to wear right? I was just helping you.”

“But…”

“But you should learn something. Captive 101, obey your captor at all costs. Besides, I used to change diapers.” Used to? I tried to press on that point but he clammed up and told me to eat up.  I was even allowed a short drink of coffee this time.  Parting my skirt, he checked on my diaper. “Good,” he commented on the dryness. “Please,” I tried again, “can I have a different gag?”

“What did I say about about  a captive?” I sighed and accepted back the panel gag which really muted out any sounds. The cuffs came back behind my back and the rope were readjusted in a firm but to too tight fashion around my arms and boobs. Positioned on the nearby sofa, he bound my knees and ankles with zip ties then whispered, “Look, I won’t blindfold you today but only if you promise to turn towards the seat and stay there. Ok?” It had to be How much more will this continue?

To be Continued.

I lay there, diapered and restrained, voice shut off by sucking on a tube. Again, anyone else looking at me would think this is the perfect bondage story for fetish lovers–diapers and adult restraints. But I ‘m just a girl who wants to explore the wonders of an adult diaper, not one with it and restraints on!!! As I ran this thought through my head, I heard him shuffle about more than then cursing silently. What was he up to? Stealing? Hacking? Planing an attack? What was so secretive about his work?

My head was suddenly yanked back and the icky panel gag was eased out.”Where’s your purse?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked back. I thought he didn’t want to steal items?

“Just answer.”

“Second drawer near my bed. Please, I don’t….” The gag went back on and before I knew it, my purse was in his hands. “Don’t worry honey, I’m not going to deduct alot of money from your debit card,” he said as I was spun around while I heard him enter my bank details. “All done, let’s have an early lunch.” After I chewed down the chicken sandwich I tried again to ask him how much money he ‘spent’.

“No worry, not much.”

“But….”

“But as I said before, you don’t need to know what I’m up to.”

“But I’m not going to do anything about it,” I pleaded. “Please, I’m just a student…”

“Shut up unless you want the gag back on,” he snapped and I did so. Then he glanced at his watch. “I have to go out for a while,” he said. Yay, that means he will leave me alone and I can try to…”But first, I have to secure you.”

“You already have,” I muttered as I flexed against my pretty inescapable bonds.

“Not good enough. Not especially after yesterday.” Rats… “Please, I’m sorry I tried that.”

“Apology accepted but still…do you have a quiet room?”

“No, nothing.” What was his plan now.

“Basement?” I didn’t answer then I thought about it. “No please, it’s so cold down there. I’ll freeze; there’s no heating.” But my plea was not considered as he carried me back up to my room. I was quickly uncuffed and made to wear a thick jumper and place on pantyhose. “Ah, good I don’t have to worry about that,” he pointed to me dry diaper.

“Please sir,” I begged again as I was handcuffed at my wrists and ankles. “You can leave me here, I won’t escape. Please…what..not that’s dis….mmmmmph!!!!” He picked up a pair of panties and jammed it in my mouth. Yikes, he’s so perverted!

“You didn’t like that panel gag, this should hold you,” he said, wrapping tape around my jaw and trapping my hair with it. A few minutes later, I was bound to a chair in my chilly basement. “Don’t worry, Freyja, I’ll be back.”

To Be Continued (yes short one)

I sat there still bound, gagged and diapered once more. No, not just gagged, gagged with my panties in my mouth! That sicko! Wait till he gets caught I’ll ask the prosecutor to send him into the most miserable jail! But wait, the police will probably learnt about my ‘condition’, that I’m wearing a diaper? How could I explain it? Could I bluff that he made me wearing the diaper? I’m terrible at bluffing; the police and then mummy will find out. But it’s all his fault, I whined both in my mind and through the new gag which like others, muffled my cries well. Once more, he had also bound me well, and the handcuffs would ensure that I would be able to easily undo any bindings or push anything. Great, mister. I thought you are some simple criminal not a master of bindings. No wait, isn’t it called bondage?

As I made these thoughts and struggles, I began to sweat alot even in the cool cellar so I stopped. My eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and I could see the outline of the cellar. Our family stored lots of old furniture down here and there was an old air-conditioned controlled wine cellar here that dad used to store his liquor in until he passed away. I don’t remember if it was still operational and I couldn’t see it from where I was. Suddenly, a spider scampered the across the wall. Well hello friend, I thought at least you are free to move. What happened next was even more of a shock. Some insect, possibly a fly, landed on my left ear. “Mmmpph!” I cried shaking my head and it flew away. Then, it came back again, this time landing on nose! “Mmmph!” I shook violently, but just as it got off, I felt a dribble of pee coming out. OMG, did that shock just make me pee?

The fly or whatever launched it ‘attack’ at me again and again, landing on different parts of my face. It then headed for my shoulders but each time I shook it off. Then, of all places, it landed on the base of my neck and crawled down into my cleavage. I screamed and rocked th around violently until suddenly I tipped over and the chair fell down on my right side. Mmow! I cried both from the impact of the fall and then watching the insect crawling out of my boobs and all around my upper torso. Finally, it flew off again. Great going, I thought, then tried tugging against my bonds. But it again was hopeless, I couldn’t get free. An hour passed, maybe just over an hour when once more, I felt the need to pee. Oh well, there’s no other way I thought, and still lying sideways, I peed into the diaper. I think it makes a record for anyone wearing a diaper, baby or adult. No one else would have peed lying sideways bound to a chair.

TBC Very short

As I laid, there, I felt my bladder signal again and seeing no choice,

Ariana gets arrested and locked up for a reason


NB: This does not refer to  any real actresses in  reality.

Ariana, one of the leading actresses in children’s television, is no in her usual wardrobe, nor is  she dressed up for the screen. Instead, she is sitting on a cold wooden bench, her  hands handcuffed behind her and  her legs secured in leg irons. What has happened.

“Yes, I’m arrested,” Ariana explains, trying to twist her head so that her red hair won’t block her  eye. “No, I didn’t commit any crime. This is for show to inform young teens of the consequences  of committing any crime. “The state now has a standard set of procedures in arresting and processing  young criminals and I’m part of an initiative to show you what will happen.” Indeed, there are several cameras rolling. Suddenly, two  policemen  approach. Ariana is unsecured from the restrains holding her down  and is  lead to a table. There her hands are shifted to the  front. “Fingerprinting, ” she explains. “Afterwards, mug shots of her were taken, three of them: front, left side and  right side.

Ariana, still restrained, was next brought to a nearby room. “This is new,” she explains are her cuffs  and  restrains are removed. “Everyone, regardless of crime, gets to be be strip searched. It can be done by either male or female officers.” Due to regulations, Ariana’s strip search happens but is not shown. We next see her in an orange jumpsuit, hands shackled behind her, legs cuffed  and a chain around her waist and another connecting the two together. Ariana further explains, “I’m no longer wearing my bra and panties. Instead, prisoners have to be locked up 24/7. That means toilet breaks  are out except for number 2. Hence, I’m made to wear an adult diaper.” It was quite visible underneath.

Ariana is next gagged with a panel gag. We learn  it is necessary to prevent spitting  and  verbal assaults.

So do you want  to be arrested?

Fake interview about a fake movie


The kidnapping of Esther Heed is a heart gripping story of how a kidnapped millionaire’s girls  lives through the whole sequence and finally gets locked into the Stockholm Syndrone to escape with her captors.  Starring world renown and award-winning actress Emma Weston, it initially drew flak  due to the scenes of nudity and bondage through out, not forgetting the constant swearing and almost rape scene. Emma and Scriptwriter Carl Thompson are here to explain the movie.

Me: So given my short summary Emma and Carl, is there anything you’ll like to add or clarify?

Emma: Why thank you this interview. You said “bondage”. I would say handcuffs, leg irons would be considered as “bondage equipment”. Yes, my character Esther is gagged almost every minute with a panel gag. I suppose that’s one such tool but the running idea was extreme silence and  effective restraining–or silence rather. It’s nothing  to do with domination sadomasochism stuff.

Carl: Thank you. Yes as Emma remarked, they are restraints which appear to be bondage stuff, but aren’t. If you want to dig so closely, yes we bought the gag and leg irons online from such groups, but not as a representation of them.

Me: Let’s go back to the background of the show. You’re well known for a famous movie series and one that’s has such a young audience. Why this?

Emma: (laughing) Yes, it sounds derogatory and paints a terrible image of me, considering I’m only sixteen right? But I’ve always wanted to break away from the “safe” type of movies or shows and try something new. This was a budget movie, a short one  but it also was one with an element that I wanted. So even with opposition from  my manage, my publicist, my parents and much discussion, i took it. I don’t want to be the normal female actress forever.

Carl: We thought it would take an older actress but Emma’s name came up immediately literally; she in fact called us  one we place the script to all acting studios. I was like, are you sure you’re her? But yes, Emma did some “formal auditioning” and she got it easily. I’ve never worked with such an amazing  actresses.

Emma: Thanks Carl.

Me: You really had no qualms about being stripped, locked and then diapered?

Emma: Well, that’s the first thing everyone chats about and some try to criticise. Simply, it passed all censors and even young teens can  watch it. No, after my discussion, I didn’t see it as anything. It’s acting.

Me: It wasn’t say a body suit or anything? You’re vulva was really shaved in that scene?

Emma: Yes, you can’t shave a body suit can you? That took  one take, but the preceding practices, it was all just a mock up. But that really did happen physically. My co-actors Dan and Sam really did shave me down there. As were the cutting often my jeans and my knickers, that also took one take. The cutting of my bra, well, that took four takes due to the camera angle.

Carl: Yes, that scene only. Emma’s the “one take Weston” girl. But that “cutting of the bra” scene, the lighting wasn’t great at first so we haha wasted lots of bras.

Me: And you were then diapered…

Emma: It’s what you never see in movies about kidnapped people right? How do they pee or shit? As this movie  involved the victim being restrained 24/7, how do you let the person exercise bodily functions? That’s the beauty of the script and why I wanted this.

Carl: Yes.

Me: So what was it like peeing and then defecating in the diaper?

Emma: (laughing again) Remember the “number two” was only done once in the show. But the peeing parts. Yes, I really did pee, it wasn’t any props at all. I did wet the diapers/nappies. Again, not something you expected me as an actresses to take.

Me: Can I ask how was it again?

Emma: You mean how the peeing occurred? That was a big stuff. Before the shooting began, I in fact wanted to see what being  diapered was about. So without being changed into diapers, I wore one  myself for about a week. For almost a day, i just couldn’t make myself pee into the diaper, no matter  how much I drank. Only at night did I get up, stand up and pee. The rest of the week, I really practised peeping, but lying  down as it was in most scenes of the movie. Then when it came to the shooting, it came almost naturally.

Carl: I too was wondering about that first, but when it came to the shooting and given what Emma did before hand, it was so bad, to put it simply. In fact, she stayed in the diaper between shots–since we took takes almost every hour and  day. Of course, we had to use new diapers for different scenes.

Emma: Haha, yeah. I stayed in the diapers.

Me: And defecating…

Emma: Ok, that wasn’t really planned at first. I thought it was too gruesome and icky, which it was. But yes, it was during one take where I was  really cuffed, gagged and diapered and didn’t clear myself of my breakfast when I signalled almost frantically to get them release me. So I brought up the idea with Carl and that scene happened. Yes, I did  mess in the diaper. No, as the movie went, the kidnappers did not clean me up–the camera stopped, they released me and I cleaned up myself. But that was shown like for a minute or so. As  you saw in the other parts after that, my character Ester gets to use a bucket instead. Yes, my butt was wiped.

Me: Oh wow. it must have been tricky, being handcuffed  behind your back, shitting…

Carl: Emma again managed it really well.

Me: And how about the restraints then? Esther was shown from start to end cuffed. Even during meal times and bath times…

Emma: Like the diaper, that took a short while to get used to. The  very first day, I told them to handcuff me, hands behind and let me move about. Break or lunch  time, I got the crew to feed me. Then with diapers on, there was no excuse  to ask to pee. As for the gag, same stuff. There however, was one trick that happened. After one scene, it was lunch time but instead of releasing me, they left me cuffed to the bed, gagged and in a rather half soaked diaper for half and hour!

Carl: We did joke around  then. But all safety was assured.

Me: And  the shower scene?

Emma: Yes, again no body suit. I know I’m a 36C girl. Ok, whatever, even though I’m a teen. Yes, basically, chained, albeit hands in front, gagged but showering. Took two takes though.

Carl: Not really a hard scene again. Emma did great.

Me: There were’n’t many diaper changing scenes though….

Carl: It wasn’t scripted to be. Again, that’s just to show how a kidnapped victim has to live and go about daily functions. Now the peeing happened alot as shown in the movie. As well as shitting. That happened. Again, this isn’t considered in other kidnap movies. Or books.

Me: Being restrained that long, even off takes must have caused marks on your skin…

Emma: It did but with some cream and by not moving around too much, it’s ok. It wasn’t placed on too tight. Not even the beginning when the scene showed Ester struggling.

Me: Were’nt you at all shocked being almost fully stripped and then in the later so-called assault/rape scene?

Emma: First question: No as I really wanted this role, I was prepared for it. I wasn’t fully stripped, I knew I was just going to be diapered and that’s all. Second, question, it was NOT a rape scene. Dan appeared naked but was clothes below the belt. My shirt was cut open yes, but my breasts were not full exposed unlike  the shower scene. No attempted sexual action at all. My diaper was taped on.

Carl: Yup.

Me: Ok cool. But how do you see yourself then Emma, especially with all this?

Emma: As I said, I made my decision. I don’t think I’ll be hated for it at all.

PS: All of this is fake but You can easily guess which actress I’m imagining.

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