Another Christmas tale that was derailed by the site outage to bring you a little late cheer.
Friends and Me 1: The Taste and Smell of De-Feet (F/FFf)
Saturday, December 21, 2019
I have a lot of friends thanks to TUGs. When Bridget introduced me to this game, she changed my life forever and for the better. Through her, I got to meet others like Nichole, Kristina, and, indirectly, my little sister. The joys were innumerable, and I am forever grateful. There’s much I could say, but that could fill a tome. I will keep things to this story, a fun story.
Bridget and her little sister (Kristina) came over for some fun while Momma went shopping for Christmas presents for December Christmas for my younger half-sister and half-brother. Today, my sister could not join the fun because she was preparing Christmas treats for the holiday. I had offered to help, but she said I couldn’t because she had surprises for me as well.
Still, having Bridget, Nichole, and Kristina here in my home is enough, especially since Nichole fulfilled her promise to bring her catsuit. Ironically enough, Bridget’s trying it on at the moment. It is fun, but it isn’t her vibe in TUGs. Bridget likes grittier roles like cowgirls where she can be herself. If she is going to get into a spy or bandit game, she isn’t going to wear a catsuit. She is such a sweet girl, but soon she is switching back to her own clothes.
“Two pieces are more fun than one,†Nichole laughs while zipping the black polyester suit.
Nichole is not only wearing the black catsuit but also wearing black ankle boots and her standard bandana, a black patternless kerchief. She has decided to really blend in by adding black leather gloves as well. I didn’t notice what socks she was wearing even when she was standing before us in only her underwear. I was too focused on the playful look in her eyes.
“So, Nichole, as an evil spy, how would you take each of us down?†I ask in a teasing manner.
My friends and I are different yet similar. There is a funny story behind how Kristina became a junior member of the Cool Girls’ Club, but her journey and my journey overlap now because of my little sister’s own friendship with Kristina. Kristina is a sweet girl, soon to turn 16 and then become a full member of the CGC. She is about 5’7â€, and I suspect she will grow more before she is 18. She is blonde-haired and blue-eyed like Bridget, but she has this beautiful swatch of brown hair growing out from the nape of her neck. She likes to wear her hair in ponytails, and the swatch is visible as a result. This girl is very strong because she started using the family’s gym equipment at a young age.
Part cowgirl and part Cool Girl, Kristina has a denim ankle skirt and combat boots. She wears a purple-and-pink button-up long-sleeve flannel shirt, a pink bandana cowboy style neckerchief, a purple bandana headband at the same time, and a pink scrunchie to hold her hair back like I said before. We teasingly call it the “Cowgirl Gangsta†look in the CGC. Pink crew socks and pink leggings keep her legs warm on this cold winter day.
“This cowgirl is big and strong. I’d use the stun gun for a sneaky Western style attack,†Nichole says, and she pulls a Nerf gun out of her bag and fires a foam bullet at Kristina, “Subduing her.â€
Kristina’s face breaks out into a cheerful grin, and she giggles a little. With exaggerated motion, the girl falls to the ground as if she were really stunned in the course of play. The game has been decided by the young girl, and we will all now play along with whatever Nichole decides to do to us. If she decides to shoot a Nerf gun at me, then I will play it like we do in the CGC!
Nichole smiles and kneels on the ground beside Kristina and uses rope to tie the captive’s arms behind her back. It’s the typical binding for a flexible girl: wrists and elbows. Kristina remained absolutely still, as if she'd been truly knocked out. Momma would be happy to see Nichole using her own style of play on others. Kristina’s legs were tied at her ankles, knees, and thighs. Tying a harness wasn't necessary because Nichole hogtied Kristina to ensure the teen couldn't escape.
I’m 5’9†and look like a girl who's half Russian and half Finnish. I have hair that's a pale blonde with natural shiny brown highlights. I almost always keep it hidden in a braid, and today I really am hiding it because I am wearing a big headscarf. I wound up my braid into a bun before tying the headscarf and wrapping the fabric around the braid. I am vain about my hair, and I often go to extreme measures to hide it so people cannot compliment it. I have black jeans, yellow canvas sneakers, a yellow t-shirt, the obvious white headscarf with its red and green floral patterns, and black bandana wristbands on each arm. I never make things easy for any of my loved ones.
“This Russian girl is dangerous. I would soak a rag and chloroform her,†Nichole has grabbed a blue bandana and gently wet it with tap water, and she comes up behind me, “Knocking her out.â€
“Mmmmmm,†I pretend to pass out.
“She was tied up with scarves yesterday, so today I will use cinches and zips on her.â€
Nichole moves smoothly and naturally. Her voice is comforting and sweet. She loves me like an extra sibling, and she tries so hard to protect me from danger even if I do bad things like trying to get my boyfriend to tie me up and screw me. She says “scarves†with a tone that tells me she is a firm supporter of my love of scarf bondage. Likewise, her tone in saying “zips†says that she has a particular love of using those on me. I feel the affection in how she handles me.
Zipties are incredible in their own way. Some call them “plastic devils†because they can cut the skin a little if used improperly, but Nichole uses a cinch strap on my wrists. The cinches aren't as tight, but they're hard to escape when used properly. She uses another strap above my elbows as the crease of my elbows will help prevent slipping. I’m trapped. Eight zips tie my legs together.
Then there's Bridget. Bridget is wearing tight blue jeans, a blue-and-pink flannel button-up shirt, and a blue bandana neckerchief. She has her regular blue sneakers on her feet. Like Kristina and me, Bridget could easily overpower Nichole at will, but she elects not to do so that the spy might enjoy a turn at controlling a situation that has a kidnapping style to it.
“For you,†Nichole grabs a little spritz bottle, “I’d use the knockout gas,†and sprays the air.
“Ohhhhhh,†Bridget groans a little and then collapses as if she really has been knocked out.
Bridgie gets the duct tape. The tape boxties her wrists and encases her torso from her shoulders down to her waist. In similar fashion, the tape encases her thighs and her legs, leaving only her feet, knees, waist, and head exposed. Unlike Kristina and me, Bridget giggles while Nichole ties her up. We're all tied up, but we still have to be gagged. It's inevitable what comes next.
With joy, Nichole removes everyone's footwear, including her own. Into Kristina's mouth go one of my socks and one of Bridget’s. She gets three cleave gag layers of bright yellow vet wrap and five OTM gags. Without breaking the strip Nichole blindfolds Kristina four times and then uses the vet wrap to hold one of her own sneakers over Kristina’s nose. Bridget and I each get a sock from the other's feet, one of Nichole's, and one of Kristina's. I receive a blue bandana cleave gag and then am wrapped in seven layers of clear tape. Bridget gets wrapped in six layers of regular gray duct tape just like the tape that binds her. For me, the clear tape also holds one of Bridget’s shoes over my nose, but the duct tape holds one of mine over Bridget’s.
What better way exists to exert playful control than by tickling and spanking your captives? The spanking part doesn't affect Kristina since she is a minor, but Bridget and I get spanked. All of us are tickled. I am going to say more, but that's a summary of what is happening here. You are about to get my usual waxing about tickling and spanking, for those familiar with my stories. I always enjoy when my captor really takes advantage of a situation in ways that are enjoyable for both herself and for me. In this case, it is enjoyable for all of us captives.
Where to begin? I guess spanking is first. Spanking is best done, in my opinion, by binding the captive up extremely well and then pulling her pants down, if she's wearing any. Because of the youthful Kristina, despite her blindfold, Nichole will not do this. The shots of pain are like shots of a drug to me. I love the inability to fight back, to defend myself, and to stop the onslaught. It is a lot of fun, and I can take dozens of decent spanks before it becomes intolerable. Bridget will not complain even if she is left bruised from the spanking as long as her boundaries are respected throughout the game. That doesn't mean she has no threshold of pain or no limits; it means she’s a little more adventurous and has a higher tolerance for stronger spanks. To each her own, right?
“Mmmmmm!†we groan and squirm in response to the playful punishment from Nichole's hands.
What else can I say about spanking? It can be humiliating in some scenarios and infantilizing in others, like you're a naughty girl in need of punishment. You can't stop the captor from spanking you, but you know she won't hurt you either. You don't know when they will spank you, but you can try to guess. You might be spanked for punishment or just so they can gloat. It's amazing.
Tickling, though, is the greatest part, no question. I love it. Just like spanking, you cannot stop it or resist it, and also like spanking it leads to an addicting pain. You're at your captor's mercy and have to trust that they will not go overboard. This one would be extremely frustrating if I were a real captive and didn't know my captor. You feel the love in your captor's fingertips. I feel that a good rapport with your captor is more important in tickling than in spanking.
You laugh in stages. Some people have more stages, but there are four that all have, with others all coming in between these. The first universal stage is laughter. You laugh and laugh because of your captor's fingers attacking your ribs, belly, armpits, thighs, and feet. It's genuine laughter of the best kind. The second stage is chuckling. You cannot laugh because you have laughed too much already, but your captor demands you must keep going. This chuckle is a bit forced, but it is still quite fun. Then your muscles are too tired. You're at stage three, forced grunts. Tickling forces an involuntary reaction, but your muscles cannot react anymore. This stage is usually the best and most addicting part of the process. This leads to stage four, which is genuine pain from your muscles now being strained until they can't handle it anymore. You can be genuinely hurt at this point, but when you first cross that line is like a moment of euphoria, and hitting the pain stage is a quintessential part of pushing me towards subspace.
“Sammy, I wish you'd stop hiding this gorgeous head of hair,†Nichole lovingly says to me.
“Mmmmmmmm,†I respond with a nervous squirm, unsure of what she was suggesting.
“May I… You’d look so much more like you with your hair out and with a bandana. May I?â€
Nichole believes that the “real Samantha Evangelina Räänta†wears her hair in any kind of scarf, whether a full head covering like I have, a kerchief, or a headband, but wears her hair down more than once per season. She begs me to wear my hair free and not in the braids as much as I do as I have lovely hair, in her opinion. My landlady is like a sister and wants to see me be my best.
As I said before, I’m vain. I might be a strong rower, but I row for sport and not compliments. I chant at church, but I do it for God and to help people get more out of worship, not accolades. I do, however, love when people compliment my looks, my figure, my eyes, my hair, my face, and my muscles. I dress to make all of these things not obvious; I can't help my looks; I won’t wear contacts to church but only wear glasses; I wear my hair in a braid or, once or twice a month, like today, hide it completely in a scarf; I wear loose shirts, turtlenecks, and long skirts often; I refuse to wear any heel that doesn't qualify as a pump.
I do it all so others can't feed my ego, but I’m instead feeding it myself. I give myself a secretive pride instead of learning to humble myself when others say nice things to me. I give Nichole the permission she desires, and she sits me up and sweetly removes the headscarf, which really was a pretty style even with this outfit although learning is more important. She puts a black kerchief bandana on me. I always wear a scarf as a dualistic symbol: a Cool Girl and a girl of prayer. It’s not easy, but I am always trying to pray for others and myself. Even as I go through bondage and games, I am thinking of what I and others need for our bodies and souls. My prayer to be broken of my arrogance is answered as Nichole unwinds my braid so my hair may be seen.
“Nichole, you love my own child in ways even I don't,†Momma’s voice interrupts us.
“Mrs. Räänta, how long have you been there?†Nichole asks in surprise.
“Since before you asked Samantha if you may undo her braid and scarf.â€
“I’m… I’m…,†Nichole was bashful about compliments, “I love Sammy so much!â€
“I’m grateful you're in her life,†Momma laughs a little, “Miss Catsuit Spy. I won't interfere.â€
“Thank you, Captain Lagunova! I will extract the information from them, ma’am!â€
I’m sorry that I am getting off the TUGs and into other topics. I am neglecting Bridget and dear Kristina. Nichole takes the duct tape and wraps Bridget’s eyes to blindfold her. She blindfolds me with the scarf I had been wearing before. Now, besides the taste in my mouth and the smell in my nose, I cannot see. The tickling has exhausted me; the spanking has left me sore; the zips and cinches hold me tightly imprisoned.
I normally go much longer, but I have told the important story, the story of my first leap towards having a slightly healthier approach to how I kept my hair. It's a small thing, but it's important in my life because it was the beginning of a healthier approach to things on lots of levels. I promise two things in my next story: no braid, and different friends to feature. It wasn't really too much of a Christmasstiry, but this is how things work sometimes.
Nichole, I love you.
THE END
