Stories of Tie Up Games

Glad to able to read some more of Giselle's adventures. I really enjoy this story.

“Do you want to join us?” Eight approached Giselle, who sat alone on the pebble beach. The large group of mostly girls had been playing the party game mafia, and to prepare for the next round, they released those who had been voted out from their hogties.

“I’m good. Thanks. I appreciate the offer,” Giselle responded, staring at the lake before her. The boys were still messing around with the canoes and attempted to sink each other. Polar Bear and Bull Dog were already trying to reach the shore with an upside-down canoe.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m all good.”

Eight sat down and rounded her arm around Giselle’s firetruck-red swimsuit. “That doesn’t fool me. I’m not sure what happened to you in the past few days, Swift Fox, but I’m here for you. Okay? I know the tie-up games alone are not responsible for your mood, nor that Washington picked you to be a commander. But you are here for five or six more weeks. You have to sort it out, and I am happy to help.”

Angered, Giselle balled her fists around the small rocks inside them. Washington had chosen her, but Ocelot and Tarantula had won a vote.

“Don’t give me that look. Please, spare me. If you think I won’t understand, try me.”

“Nothing is going on.”

“Nope, you just don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t like talking about myself. I can handle it myself. Don’t worry.”

Spider Octopus tightened her grip. “I do worry,” she whispered. “You look miserable. If I am honest, you are also anxious and frightened. That hurts me to see. But, at times, you calmed down and were so cool, crushing everyone. I want to see that Swift Fox more often.”

Giselle cracked a smile. Eight meant she wanted to see Gigi explore, like in the videos years ago, and be happy, naive, fearless, and reckless. Of course, this includes all the stupid catchphrases and one-liners.

That time was over.

And even if Giselle shared her deepest thoughts, the actress’s heart would break. Never meet your heroes, they say. She could easily shun her or gossip like everyone else. She had also allowed Willet to trick her into confirming Giselle’s identity. “I’m good. I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself, especially being a commander.”

“I won’t.”

From the group of teens, Lionfish ran to the duo. “We are starting a new round. Last chance.”

“Shall we?” Eight asked.

Giselle nodded and stood up. Declining would alarm Eight even further. They sat down next to each other in the circle surrounding Willet. “Last game before dinner, so let us make it special. If you are a mafia member and get caught, you spend dinner bound and blindfolded. Understood?”

Most loved such stakes, but Giselle focused on keeping her face neutral. Why did these games always feature bondage?

Sitting down, she received her role from Willet, and to her delight, it was the dullest, most useless role possible, which made her able to disassociate from the game completely, and she would not be tied up.

Silently, Giselle let the game play out and was eliminated roughly halfway, just after Red Deer was taped up, gagged with her own socks, and blindfolded. Being innocent, Giselle was spared while Cottontail and Hedgehog were tied up and lost the game with the mafia. To Giselle, it did not matter. Her thoughts were angry and elsewhere.

“Tarantula, Ocelot, Swift Fox, please join my table,” Washington declared as Giselle filled her plate with two burritos. Giselle sighed and sat down as far as reasonably possible from Washington at the picnic table.

He had not been forgiven.

“Congratulations again for your promotions. You three will make a strong and refreshing team of commanders. I hope you can reunite the group and allow them to reach new heights. Having three brand-new commanders is unusual, so let me outline my expectations. If you have any questions, feel free to approach us or a former commander.”

Giselle had already turned herself mentally off. Washington had only selected her to make her behave and cut out her antics. No thanks.

“Your main task is to plan and lead missions and take responsibility for the preparation, execution, and outcome. The preparation for these missions has already begun. A motivated, united group achieves superior results.”

Tarantula cut in. “Thus, not like the previous commanders?” She smiled and leaned in like a teacher’s pet who applauded the stipulations of a time-wasting, worthless project.

Washington paused for a second. “That aspect of their approach was indeed not ideal. We both observed the consequences. Therefore, healing these internal wounds is part of your mission.”

Ocelot controlled his emotions better, and in swimming shorts, his tanned, skinny, worked-out body showed off. All muscles were meant for working and not just watery packs. Giselle noted the results of studying martial arts for over a decade. She bobbed her head and spotted Ithaca opposite of her. She gaped at her intensely as if she questioned Giselle’s presence at the meeting and reminded her to behave. One nasty face was sufficient to make her break eye contact.

“Engage everyone and inspire them. Discover the unique talents and combine them into an unstoppable force. A few weeks into the camp, students will also start giving classes to share their knowledge. Part of your duties will also encompass planning classes and investigating what skills need to be improved. Tomorrow, you will receive the specifics. Is everything clear?”

Giselle nodded, just wanting to get out.

“Is there anything known about the next mission?” Ocelot inquired.

Washington grinned. “You will hear more as soon as I have further information.” Of course, he knew, but now played the stupid character as the director of the fictional spy association.

During the rest of the dinner, Giselle was stuck at the table with Washington, some counselors, and the other two commanders. She answered questions while asked but made no effort to engage in small talk. To make the awkwardness even better (in Giselle’s view), Ocelot was also not a natural talker, and Tarantula was too excited and jubilant for any sense to leave her mouth. Ithaca kept staring and smiling at Giselle but kept wisely silent, understanding Giselle was furious with her.

“I’m going for a swim,” Giselle told Spider Octopus when the meal finally finished.

“I will join you if you don’t mind. It seems nice to freshen up before we head back.”

“That’s cool.”

Eight smiled and joined Giselle walking down in the water. Her bikini had a dark violet shade, and it looked so good on her. The ugly red one-piece swimsuit had been the sole option in her size. The water was colder than earlier, but Giselle did not want to back down and smoothly lowered herself into the water.

Eight was a better swimmer, and even on her back, she was faster than Giselle. Giselle did not mind. Others joining them delighted her less.

Eight halted a few hundred feet from the shoreline and was treading water. “What are your plans for tonight?”

Giselle could smell her friend was up to something from a thousand miles away. “What do you mean?”

“You’re now a commander. You have your own room now.”

“Should I use it? It feels too elitist to use it.”

“Elitist?”

“I did not earn it. I’m not better than you.”

With a single stroke, Eight reached Giselle and grabbed her hand. “You earned it! Use it. Don’t feel bad. Everyone would do the same.” Giselle nodded. “If you want, you can even kidnap me for the night, like Willet chose to do last week with you?”

“Why would I? If I recall correctly, I have to keep you tied up?”

“So?” Eight smiled deviously. “What’s the problem?”

“Would you want that?”

“Of course! Don’t you know me by now?”

Giselle reddened. These people remained weird. “If you would that…”

A pair of hands pushed on Giselle’s shoulder from behind. “Do it!” Willet laughed. “Enjoy the perks while they last.”

Beaumains wrote: 1 year ago Giselle had already turned herself mentally off.

She really needs to sort out what she wants (and what others want). This is not an easy story to write in my opinion, as you are dealing with lots of emotions, but you are doing an excellent job. Thank you for a new chapter.

slackywacky wrote: 1 year ago
She really needs to sort out what she wants (and what others want). This is not an easy story to write in my opinion, as you are dealing with lots of emotions, but you are doing an excellent job. Thank you for a new chapter.

Agreed on all accounts - no easy decisions to make for Giselle. A fascinating Character.

Very well done, @Beaumains. As always, I am eager to learn what will follow.

Thanks for all the comments and the 100k clicks!

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A slight headache was followed by the morning sun creeping through the cracks of the curtains and entering Giselle’s eyes. The alarm clock read 6:19 AM. There was one hour left before she was supposed to wake up.

Giselle grabbed her duvet and rolled into it, snuggling up. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before realizing her mistake. Twisting to her other side, her pupils widened, getting kicked back into reality.

Eight lay next to her, clad in her short black pajamas and lying on her stomach. A red silk ribbon connected her wrists behind her back, but they were far from touching. Giselle’s cinches had changed the ribbon into a set of handcuffs. To Giselle, it looked uncomfortable even though she had chosen soft silk. Ribbons of the same kind sewed her legs together and were fastened to the end of the bed. From their twisting, Giselle deduced Eight had been rolling in her sleep. The actress’s face was perfectly peaceful and buried in the pillow. A pink sleeping mask covered her eyes.

Carefully, Giselle covered Eight with the duvet before nestling herself under it as well.

“Thank you,” Eight murmured softly.

“Sorry,” Giselle replied. She was unsure whether Eight was awake or speaking in her sleep.

“It’s okay. I slept well. What time is it?” Eight yawned. Giselle read the alarm clock. “That’s early. I doubt I’ll sleep more. Will you?”

“I can stay in bed all day. Wasting time is a specialism of mine. Should I untie you?”

Eight rubbed the sleeping mask off. Her eyes were twinkling. “Untied? Are you crazy? It feels so good, Giselle. But it is a bit loose.”

Giselle peeled the pink sleeping mask from Eight’s face. “It’s so weird hearing that name, Vespina,” she laughed.

“It is a beautiful name. Of course, I will not use it when anyone else is around like everything you told me last night,” Eight assured. “That took a lot of courage.”

Giselle scuffed. She did not want to be patronized and reminded of the previous night. Mistakes had been made. She had opened up and regretted it already. She should have shared about her relationship with her family and what had happened with WeWereThere. It was too personal. It had made her look weak and pathetic. Eight had been pressing and charming, and when Giselle started talking, she could not stop. It was cozy in bed. In the dark and curled up against a tied-up Spider Octopus, emptying her heart had been too easy. She hated the usual light, open spaces with a therapist or authority figure eyeing her. “Don’t say that. I hate it.”

Eight laughed. “I know! You’re direct and despise sugarcoating. If you’re done with me, tie up. I dare you.”

“You sure?”

“Do it before I change my mind. And make it tight. Be cruel.”

Giselle sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Really.”

“You won’t, and you know that. Trust your judgment and my own. Have fun.”

All the previous time Giselle had tied – better said, had been forced to tie – others up it had always been cuffs, loose bondage, or someone experienced had been watching.

Eight sat on her knees and shook her hair behind her head. “Don’t be scared. It will be alright.” She winked. “Come at me and show you have learned something useful in the past week!”

Giselle smiled and crawled over the bed to reach Eight’s legs and untie them. “Then don’t whine later.” She also untied her friend’s arms, moved her to the high headboard, and positioned her against it on her knees while facing forward. Of course, the headboard was there for bondage, so Giselle bound Eight’s wrists to the sides.

“Tighter, please!”

“How?”

“That’s for you to figure out.”

Giselle smirked and bent Eight’s ankles up to make her stand on her kneecaps. She moved them against the headboard and rigged her legs against it. Now Spider Octopus had to use her upper body strength to balance. Otherwise, she would fall forward and put stress on her shoulders and wrists anyway. “I think I’m off to sleep,” Giselle said, forcing the pink sleep mask back over Eight’s sharp, sparkling brown eyes. Maybe a gag was needed, but Giselle wanted to give her a way to warn her if something went wrong.

“Sleep well,” Eight told Giselle, who closed the gap in the curtains and pulled the duvet over herself, burying herself underneath. Then she closed her eyes.

Usually, drifting away was trivial in this position for Giselle. But now, it was almost unthinkable. Eight could whisper, and Giselle would react, but Giselle felt responsible and had to safeguard her safety. It was unnecessary, and sleeping would be much more dramatic. Eight would love it. But with her head filled with thoughts, falling asleep was impossible. Eight would notice any movements through the mattress. Hence, she just stared at the face of the tied-up actress. She was struggling.

Eight’s face told little. Her mouth was closed and looked solemn as she slowly breathed through her nose. Her shoulders and knees carried were under continuous pressure. It was not enormous, like hanging by your arms. But it added up over time. Losing concentration and sudden movements could lead to short-term relief, but the final price would be higher.

When the alarm sounded at 7:10 AM, Giselle slammed it off swiftly and rose from her bed to turn on the lights. Someone knocked on the door, and Giselle opened it.

“Good morning, Commander Swift Fox,” Tara greeted. “These beds are so much better than those in the dorms. Are you guys ready for breakfast? It seems we are in for a treat today. We can take a shower afterward when it is less busy.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Eight exclaimed from around the corner. “Please untie me first.”

The sound of ‘tie’ caught Tarantula’s attention, and she entered the room to have a look. Red Deer, who had been Tara’s captive for the night, followed. Deep, red marks covered her arms and legs, but she appeared delighted. “You did a good job. I hope you did not keep her like that all night.”

“Oh, no, she used to be gagged,” Giselle replied without a moment of hesitation. “She wanted to be challenged.”

It took Red a second before realizing Giselle was joking. In that time, Tara had freed Eight, and the four moved to the little room where blueberry pancakes and breakfast sandwiches awaited the commanders and their abductees.

An intriguing chapter. I did like the first Paragraphs very much. Giselle awakening. The Conversation with Eight. Then the look back. Then the switch back to the Present.

Honeybee grabbed Giselle’s arm as they entered the factory’s loading dock. “You truly consider that anyone hides here?”

“It is plausible,” Giselle replied. Only an amateur would choose an enormous open space with only obvious hiding spots. You could not even climb into the ceiling. There were only large pipes to hide behind and large metal thrash bins that had long been emptied and cleaned. 

Lionfish and Cottontail walked past the half dozen rusty bins and opened and closed them in rapid succession. No one was inside who required to be bound and gagged. From a distance, Giselle watched, quite bored after an hour of fruitless searching, save from finding that stupid kid in the ventilator shaft. A big dent in the metal had been a clear giveaway, like a child hiding behind a curtain whose shoes were visible.

“So this is how our first mission felt to them: It is so boring for us but so exciting for the newcomers,” Honeybee remarked, and Giselle agreed. Only one new camper remained, and almost 30 people were looking for them.

However, she noticed something from the corner of her eye: Lionfish and Cottontail exchanged glances and smirked. Something was up. Giselle walked up, flanked by Polar Bear and Honeybee. “Seen something?”  

“All empty,” Cottontail replied. “We should move on. Maybe we should do the East-side forest again.” She was a terrible liar. Giselle walked forward, flanked by Polar Bear and Honeybee.

“There’s nobody, Swift Fox,” Lionfish lied. “If you believe we’re messing with you, check it out yourself, but this wastes time.” 

Giselle called the bluff, pushed through them, and opened the lid. She saw terror and fear. A fearful face with an open mouth and deep green eyes was surrounded by long, curly red hair and frozen in the corner. The last of the three new campers. It took Giselle a moment to compute the ramifications as Lionfish clenched her wrist.  

Traitors.  

The commanders had to arrest (and tie up) the new campers, but with the help of the traitors, the commanders could also be captured to make it fair. Polar Bear noticed it as well, and being jacked and a foot taller than Lionfish, the blonde kissed the concrete quickly. Giselle and Cottontail stepped back as Armadillo grasped Polar Bear from behind. It looked bleak. The traitors had banded together and assembled in Giselle’s search party.  

“Surrender, Swift Fox,” Honeybee smirked. Polar Bear was down. Gerbil, the wrestler from Maine, walked to Giselle while four red ropes bungled down from her belt. It was 5 against 2. Outnumbered, the commander turned around, ducked an arm, and sprinted away, losing ground on the long stretch of concrete. Racing to the forest would end badly, so Giselle opted for a long steel spiral staircase that led up. She started to gain a little and saw from above that Lionfish accompanied the new girl in their direction. Washington had designed this to make her immediately bond with some older campers.

Four floors higher, Giselle failed to find allies. Trying to hide in a room was suicide, so she ran through the corridors she had firmly memorized by now, either from the map or from a mission. Twice to the right and once to the left, Giselle entered a bridge across the deserted main hall of the factory. Ocelot and Tarantula were searching elsewhere with their crews. Fortune was not in Giselle’s favor. Her lungs were burning from the stairs, and Gerbil was a trained athlete performing on the national level. Both were not runners, and Giselle noticed she gained ground in technical corners, so she opted for another set of stairs that led up the roof. It was scattered with pipes, gravel pits, little walls, chimneys, random steel bridges, and empty chemical tanks. It was downright amazing.  

Twice as tall and actually fit, Gerbil provided Giselle no time to chill. Searching earlier, Giselle had scouted the area, finding numerous jumps and cuts, but there was no time to try them out. Gerbil beelined to the other exit, cutting Giselle off, and Lionfish, Cottontail, and the new girl passed through the entrance.  

“Now you’re cornered, stupid,” Giselle told herself, snickering like a devil. Four enemies had entered her domain, and now they had to capture her. Lionfish covered the other door, encouraging Cottontail and the new girl to chase Giselle down.

Controlling her heart rate, Giselle dodged them as if toddlers were chasing her. She made the five-, six-, and seven-foot jumps without hesitation, skirted around random iron bars, and climbed fences as she had done for half her life while her opponents lacked her experience. One erroneous choice would lead to a broken ankle. “Careful,” she told the new girl, who bonked her head as Giselle baited her under a low-hanging horizontal pole. If the girl wanted to win, she had to take even more risks.

“Just surrender, Swift Fox. Do you really want to play this game?” Lionfish shouted. “No one is going to win this.” 

“You choose to chase me,” Giselle replied, knowing she needed a plan. Eventually, the girls would switch places, and a fresh Gerbil and Lionfish would be annoying to handle. She checked the sides of the buildings, finding no friends to call for aid. She had to escape somehow without her opponents being able to follow.  

But there always is a solution, although it is often ugly. Nothing is impossible if you think outside the box.

There was another roof, about 35 feet below, with a long lamppost sticking out like a tall street light. For someone not too familiar with the capabilities of a human body, it sounds like suicide to jump onto it and then slide down. Although still dangerous, Giselle had performed it often enough to be consistent, and she considered it safer than many of the other things she had done.

“Last chance,” Giselle told Cottontail and the redhead, who had no clue what she meant until she ran between them, hopped over a brick wall, and leaped six feet through the air. Giselle’s body collided with the metal and curled around it. She used her legs to go down in a controlled manner and waved at the confused crowd above as the metal was rocking back and forth.

Inside the building, Giselle located Ocelot on the ground floor, and his 8-man-strong crew caught most of the traitors and the new girl within five minutes. Mission complete. Giselle smiled as Red Deer and Tarantula loaded up a hogtied Cottontail in the black minivan that drove them back to the office building.



“Hey, you have a moment?” Lionfish asked after dinner. “Do you have anything to do tonight?”

“I don’t think so,” Giselle replied. Eight was gone for a few days for a contractually obligated photo shoot in New York.  

The tall blonde showed enthusiastic puppy eyes. “Great! Could you do me a favor? I know tie-ups are not your thing, but Leafwing wants revenge for this afternoon.”

“She can’t ask that herself?” The new girl Giselle embarrassed in the afternoon was not socially awkward, and Giselle did not consider herself unapproachable.  

“She wants to surprise you. You know, jump you?”

“It seems quite patronizing to ask me to fall for that.”

“I’m not requesting you to act like an idiot. Just don’t avoid her or get angry.”

“Fine,” Giselle sighed. It felt like peer pressure. “Could you stay with me? I don’t trust her yet.”

“Sure,” Lionfish replied, moving in for a hug.

Scouting comes in handy, that is what Giselle showed in this chapter. Know the terrain. Now we are waiting for the revenge to happen...
Good chapter.

Could anyone not love the Swift Fox?

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Could anyone not love the Swift Fox?

I doubt that

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Could anyone not love the Swift Fox?

haha, thanks. I will take that as a compliment. I had not intended that everyone would like Swift Fox. She can be unreasonable, unfriendly, cocky, and demanding, but these all stem mental problems I have spend quite a few words on. I don't think she is very popular among her peers, and some counselors would also dislike having to deal with her.

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Giselle left the toilet to return for another round of a quick, almost completely luck-based card game with Willet, Honeybee, and Cottontail. Giselle’s bladder had already been empty, but Willet had called for “a short toilet break.” So the arm clothe-lining her and throwing her to the ground was not unexpected. However, that her assailant instantly moved to a submission hold, pinned her arms to her sides with her legs, and used her arms to press her face onto the floor and cover her eyes and mouth was a bigger surprise. Giselle was the smallest and weakest by a landslide, but it did not bode well that her opponent studied martial arts.

“Surrender,” Leafwing hissed in a Gollum-like voice. “Open thy mouth, commander.”

Giselle complied, and cotton of unknown origin entered her mouth. It was tightly secured behind her head. After blindfolding Giselle, Leafwing cuffed Giselle’s wrists and ankles, pulled her over her shoulder, and walked Giselle into the forest behind the office building. Giselle heard more footsteps, so she expected that her opponents in the card game were in on it and trailed her.

“Here we go again,” the commander thought, remembering her earlier trial, where she had hung from a bed frame and was tickled mercilessly after being dared by anonymous campers who still had not come forward. Cowards. Tonight could not be worse, Giselle reasoned.

Fifteen minutes later, the new girl lowered Giselle, laying her on the cold rock that thus had not been heated by the sun. They laid her on her back with her head pointing down at a 30-degree angle, unlocked the cuffs, removed her black track jacket, shoes, and socks, and grabbed her limbs and pulled them apart. She bound each limb in a different direction and bent Giselle into a spread-eagle that was neither strict nor loose. Leafwing spread Giselle’s hair and left her alone to notice the sounds of the forest and smell of slow-burning wood.

Giselle’s heart slammed in her chest as fingers moved over her feet, neck, face, and exposed neck. They were not tickling her to avoid breaking her skull but made her feel vulnerable and helpless, like a psychopath kiddo’s doll. The girls giggled and enjoyed teasing their food, brushing her with various materials: sticks, leaves, feathers, and acorns.

Giselle at first let it happen, but her annoyance at once turned into anger.

Why had she agreed to this torture?

Why was it her turn again?

What did she owe them?

Nothing!

First, she beat them in the mission, and they did deserve revenge? That is a skill issue on their part and not Giselle’s fault. And Willet had won the game and was participating as the sneaky, manipulative New Yorker would always do. Leafwing’s disappointment at losing had been genuine, but she better grow up and recognize you cannot always win, and when you lose, cry in a corner. Especially when this is your way to make it even. It was not Giselle’s idea to tie them up when captured.

The blindfold was torn away, and Giselle stared into deep green eyes surrounded by black eyeliner and a gold-colored mask resembling an ancient priest. There was no make-up at Spy Camp. Leafwing was awaiting a reaction, but Giselle did not give her any. She was not worth it. Black cloth covered her hair, and she wore a long red cape, making her look like an inquisitor. The four other girls were equally dressed like budget cannibalism cult members. Giselle rolled her eyes. She was not going to play along.

From the campfire, Leafwing picked out a piece of charcoal with a stick while she sang in a weird language. The sounds were foreign to Giselle. Flat, slow, low-pitched tones filled the area that had to be random and supposedly spooky in Giselle’s mind. It sounded the most like Mongolian throat singing. When cooled down, Leafwing grabbed the charcoal and walked to Giselle. “Welcome, mortal, to my realm.” Her voice boomed.

Let me throw a tantrum. Be angry. Get out. Who cares? Why should I give a fuck about a stranger’s feelings? Why let her do this? Running away would end this humiliation.

The new girl reached for Giselle’s head, holding the charcoal. Slowly, from her forehead, she drew a line down the middle of the commander’s face, down her chin to the top of her tank top. She went back and forth to make it thicker.

Why was everyone here an asshole? Why is their only pleasure in life hurting others? Dimwits. This was stupid. Even Eight would think so.

“Breath, mortal, breath,” Leafwing voiced between her singing. She drew horizontal lines on Giselle’s forehead, cheeks, and neck like an animal’s spine. “The process has begun. It cannot be reversed.”

Eight would also hate this. She would also detest being tied up in a horrible play. Okay, maybe she would deal with it. She was weird herself. She probably would say, “Oh, look Leafwing is new and tries to be original and creative. It takes guts to take such a risk. I would enjoy it if someone did that for me. You should not kick her down.” The copium. She was spineless.

“You are one of us now. Your soul, your life, and your future belong to us.” More lines were drawn on the inside of Giselle’s wrists and the top of her ankles.

“Next time, it’s your turn. Relax and play along,” the actress had advised in the morning. “I know it’s hard for you, but if you have trust, tie-ups are really fun.”

Giselle leaned back as Leafwing retreated. She contemplated to give Eight’s advice a shot. She would be wrong, proving Giselle’s belief this camp was stupid. After dipping her hand in the bucket of water meant for the campfire, Leafwing dripped drops on Giselle’s forehead, singing the mysterious song.

“I still smell darkness in thy blood,” Leafwing said. “We shall exterminate it! Bring me the tools.”

From a bag, one girl retrieved a long black linen cloth, almost 20 feet long and 2 feet wide. They tied ropes to both ends and one girl, Lionfish Giselle guessed, threw the ropes over tree branches while the cloth was held under Giselle’s hips. Willet loosened the spread-eagle as the linen was pulled up.

Giselle screamed into her gag as her back was bent, and her body floated in the air as limbs were pulled down in different directions. Due to the incline, her head bungled down, looking upside down at her peers. It was far from comfortable, but the pain was far from unbearable.

Leafwing rearranged the linen to spread the weight. “You’re looking hella cute,” she whispered through the metal mask.

Giselle reddened. What did she mean? Since when is torture considered cute?

Leafwing laughed, enjoying Giselle’s confusion, and put a finger on her chin. “Look at me and shiver in fear, devil inside thou.”

Objectively, Giselle thought, I can get through this. Being forced to concentrate on her body and mind took her anger away. At least Leafwing was not patronizing her and presented her with a challenge. The new girl put the fire out with most of the water, but some remained. Without warning, she threw it over Giselle’s head and dripped down her long hair onto the rock. Luckily, none fell into Giselle’s nose.

“Now, thou are cleansed.”

With those words, Leafwing’s helpers each untied a limp. They blindfolded her and let her rest for a second before carrying her back to the office building.

Excellently written as alway @Beaumains - Leafwings as a Character ... I am not sure if I like her ...

Caesar73 wrote: 1 year ago Excellently written as alway @Beaumains - Leafwings as a Character ... I am not sure if I like her ...

Thanks for your comment. Sadly for you, Leafwing will feature heavily in the next two chapters. Sorry! But her character so far was all jsut her playing an act. In reality, she should be far less extreme.

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“To survive the night, you will need a tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping mat,” the counselor holding a barn lantern explained as all the campers surrounded her at the forest edge. Their pajamas were in backpacks, and they had already brushed their teeth.

Giselle scuffed. Surviving was too dramatic.

“Remember, you have two attempts. If you get caught twice, your night will be definitely less pleasant. Make teams of two. You have to stay together.”

The group came to life, and Giselle led the social game play out. Red Deer instantly pulled Tarantula out, and Lionfish teamed with Willet. Without Eight, there was no clear choice, especially as Honeybee chose to work with Hedgehog. There were no surprises there. Giselle would wait on whichever unlucky soul remained. So, the tap on her shoulder took her by surprise.

“Hey, Swift Fox, do you already have a teammate?”

Giselle had to turn around before the red locks revealed their owner’s identity, Leafwing. She towered over Giselle. “Oh, yeah, sure,” Giselle replied. Almost anyone tagging along with her would be an annoyance. They had not spoken since the Leafwing’s “revenge,” and canonically, Giselle had no clue who was behind the mask. That had ended only an hour ago. The sun had set, and it was dark at the patch near the office building as all lights had been dimmed.

“Awesome. Great. Thanks,” Leafwing stumbled.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a little,” Leafwing replied. “But I’ll be awake when the adrenaline kicks. I had a flight at 7 in Seattle, so it was a long day.”

“If you’re asleep, you can’t make noise,” Giselle joked. They walked a few feet away from the group. “Any ideas for strategies?” It was more of a test than a genuine inquiry. Giselle was unwilling to be tied up for another night because of a new girl’s naivety.

Leafwing smiled. “Play slow. Stay away from others. Let’s take our time and the long route.”

“I disagree politely. Being slower in the game has advantages but exposes us for longer. Going around is too obvious. I propose staying relatively close to others because that is counter-intuitive, but you can’t sneak silently here anyhow. If someone is found, the seeker’s awareness drops. When that happens, most people would stop and wait until matters calm down. One should exploit those moments. They are free distractions.”

“You know their tactics! What will they do?”

Giselle lowered her voice. “I don’t. I’m bullshitting, but they are pretty predictable. The goal is not to see who can do this but who does this best. If they want, they guard a supply station and capture everyone. No, they let roughly half survive. Footsteps in a dark forest in a small area are difficult to hide. How punishing they are depends on the average performance. The counselors aren’t our opponents. Somebody has to lose, like this afternoon.”

The barn lantern glowed on Leafwing’s face as she processed Giselle’s words.

“They try to reward tactics they deem reasonable, and we try to exploit that. Those who start too fast will be punished for being reckless. Those trying to outflank them are expected to do so. The most cautious will be picked out for being cowards when the rest has finished or is tied up. Hence, I suggest we stay in the middle behind a noisy group and let them take the fall. Their sounds will camouflage ours.”

Leafwing beamed. “You’re taking this so seriously. I heard you were good but did not take everything too seriously. I want revenge for this morning. Let’s win this thing.”

Giselle returned the smile and hug. “I couldn’t care less. I don’t want to spend the night chained in a spread-eagle or locked in a cage. That’s my only motivation. It’s a short, stupid game whose consequences are absurd and barbaric.” She could continue her rant that the camp echoed the real world for at least 30 minutes. Bank accounts are numbers, and diplomas are printed pieces of paper that society deems valuable. One was rewarded for obeying the system and becoming a mindless, uncreative worker used to being exploited while still being cheaper than a robot. The bondage punishments at Spy Came were no different than expulsions, line writing, and social isolation at school. It was all theater to see who would be most useful to those pulling the strings than to make people happy. Everyone was playing a part in a play worse than her high school’s, but telling this to Leafwing would make her sound like a conspiracy nut.

“I agree. Let’s do that.”

Giselle led her partner to a bunch of helpful tools. Both girls bound their hair in a ponytail they led down their tracksuits while covering their heads with a balaclava. Giselle removed her pajamas from her backpack and stuffed them in her pockets. The flimsy plastic backpack grazed against her jacket. Then, she concealed the reflective stripes on her clothes and shoes with black tape.

They joined a group of nervous boys who attempted to boost their confidence with overblown stories and awful tactics. Crawling like a marine would not help. It would be slow, exhausting, and noisy without proper technique.

When the whistle blew, the guys ducked into the tree line, and the two girls followed their example. Giselle focused on Bull Dog and Polar Bear, both at least twice her weight and not known for their subtle movements.
A green light glowed a few hundred yards ahead, signaling the location of the tents, sleeping bags, or sleeping mats. The two other green lights were slightly further away.

Quiet as a cat, Giselle slipped under the dark towers that still carried their leaves during summer. Leafwing trailed her, each step a little louder, but the difference was still minor. Meanwhile, some boys sounded as if they were crunching cornflakes inches from Giselle’s ear. Barn lanterns in front of them moved, patrolling the area. As expected, Snipe and Meerkat, who had rushed forward, were caught quickly while the elephants covered Giselle’s and Leafwing’s noise.

While Dallas was busy cuffing Bull Dog’s and Polar Bear’s hands behind their backs, the girls passed them 70 feet farther. There were more casualties, and Giselle grinned, believing the counselors were constantly finding people. They had chosen a small playing field, causing a short but intense game. Giselle snatched a tent from the pile, leaving the light like a mouse running back into his hole with a piece of cheese.

Near the pile of sleeping bags was a group of eight campers, all cuffed and gagged, because they had been seen twice. Trying to release them was naive: Orlando was nearby. It was a trap. Cottontail’s puppy eyes did not distract Giselle from grabbing two sleeping bags and diving under foliage. A pair of heavy boots approached, but the barn lantern did not light the ditch the girls were hiding in. When he moved away like a forgetful NPC, they walked in the opposite direction.

Without much trouble, Giselle let Leafwing grab the large foam sleeping mats while the playing field was thinned out significantly. “Now we only need to get back,” Leafwing whispered, stating the obvious.

With their hands full, being silent and careful was harder. Giselle noted Leafwing was already smiling proudly. They were not home yet. And that is where Leafwing made her misstep. She screamed high-pitched, and when Giselle turned around, her ally lay on the ground.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Leafwing replied, nourishing her ankle. “A rabbit hole, I guess.”

“Good,” Giselle lied. The sloppiness had attracted two barn lanterns. The first belonged to Ithaca. Leafwing repeated her story as she stood up and tested her leg. It was fine.

Ithaca took a pair of handcuffs from her bag. “Then consider yourself caught. Leafwing, as you’re new, I’ll spare you from the worst,” Giselle’s least favorite camp counselor spoke. A male counselor joined as well to check up on them as the girls’ wrists were linked. “Good luck for the remainder of your journey.”

Leafwing gathered her sleeping equipment, and with the awkward cuffs, they continued their trip. Both counselors had gone deeper into the forest, so five minutes later, they reached the grass surrounding the office building effortlessly.

Two other teams were already there: Willet and Lionfish, and Ocelot and Ibyx. Lionfish was strapped in a straight jacket, but the boys had come out unscathed. Four more duos came out, all being spotted once. “You can pitch up your tents,” Washington told them. Leafwing appeared bewildered and prideful that the punishment was real.

Giselle waxes philosophically. Good show!

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Giselle waxes philosophically. Good show!

I agree. And Leafwing still has some to learn

Nice update.

slackywacky wrote: 1 year ago

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Giselle waxes philosophically. Good show!

I agree. And Leafwing still has some to learn

Nice update.

Agreed on all accounts

Giselle felt a tug against her right wrist. She had already been awake for half an hour.

“Sorry,” Leafwing whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“You’re awake already? Sorry if I moved much.”

“You stayed perfectly still. It was not as bad as I had feared,” Giselle replied. “It sucked. It doesn’t feel like winning.” Having their wrists cuffed together, they had zipped their sleeping bags together. During the night, Leafwing had rolled closer, making them almost spoon. Now, the morning sun penetrated the orange canvas.

Leafwing spun Giselle around such that they faced each other. “Yeah, I know tie-ups are not really your cup of tea. But it’s cool you’re doing them anyway, especially something as weird as this.”

“I’ve gone through worse here.”

“I love them! Everything! I can’t wait on what they have in store today,” Leafwing said. Giselle’s eyes closed again. She could be lingering in bed for the rest of the morning, but Leafwing’s eyes twinkled. “It reminds me of when I was younger, tied at night or during the long travels in our motorhome. My brothers tied and gagged me while they were playing games or just for fun. I miss them now they’re in college. Nowadays, I seldom get tied up anymore casually. It’s so quiet now in our motorhome. How did you grow up?”

“We’re not really supposed to speak about our outside lives.”

Leafwing smirked. “Don’t pull that card, Swift Fox. No names, that’s all. Washington told me we should get to know each other to learn from each other.”

“Fine, I have two brothers, four and five years older. They mostly ignored me all my life. We showed no interest in each other as I was just their weird little sister. I have not seen or spoken to them since Easter, and I couldn’t care less.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. I got used to it.”

Leafwing squeaked Giselle’s hand and pulled her closer for a hug. “That’s not normal, Fox. When I came here, I expected homesickness would be my greatest problem. Living in a small space together, we were always very close.”

Giselle did not miss her parents, and her parents were delighted to escape their legal obligation to care for her for two months. She wisely stayed silent as Leafwing told about her family’s nomadic lifestyle.

Soon, luckily, the alarm sounded that it was time to get up. When the cuffs had been removed and the girls had changed, they joined the other survivors of the previous night’s game at the campfire. As if they were still 11, the counselors came up with the ‘cool’ activity of cooking their breakfast on the campfire: bread on a stick, eggs, marshmallows, and tea. When you had the office building next to you to go to the toilet, it could barely be considered camping.

“Commander Swift Fox,” Washington spoke soon after. “Would you like to go for a walk?” It was not a question, but Giselle contemplated challenging the request. Her peers eyed her, and while staring at Washington, she rose. Her hesitance was sufficient for now. When they left, Washington’s attempt to appease her was not great.

“How are you doing, Giselle?”

Giselle, still furious about his plot to force her to make amends with Antoinette, remained quiet. Hearing her real name signaled a serious conversation.

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re doing amazing. What you have been showing this past week has been impressive. Your peers are in awe, and I see you’re also settling down. I’m so glad you accepted my invitation to the camp. I’m not sure when it will happen exactly, but I cannot wait to see you in action as a commander.”

Giselle walked forward, suspicious someone unwelcome was awaiting them.

“Who does benefit from you being furious with me?”

“It makes a point. It helps me remember I cannot trust you.”

To Giselle’s delight, her words did not only upset the older man. It hurt him. It was hard for adults to take you seriously.

“I had high hopes that talking with Antoinette in a safe environment could be a good first step. Only I should have consulted with you better. That was my sole error. I should have read how deep your pain was. I also did not want this outcome. I can apologize if you want, but I doubt that will change your mind or heart.”

Giselle looked down. Washington was right. Her forgiveness was not free.

“I would just ask to treat Ithaca better. This is not her fault. She just did what she was told. It hurts her, you know, how you stare at her and give her only nasty looks. That is unnecessary. Would you be willing to change that?”

Giselle stared at the green grass below her. Her parents would have mowed it a month before it got so high.

“Giselle, please consider it. That’s difficult, but it was all an honest mistake. We all would love this to be your best summer ever. Truly.” They sat down on a steel bench near the forest edge. It was damp from the dew. “This camp is an emotional rollercoaster for you. You did not know for what you had signed up and are not used to tie-ups. You entered a feuding group that had bonded for a week already and dared to find your own path and follow your intuition and morals. You may sneak better than anyone here, but what makes you stand apart is that you can think on the fly and plan ahead. You also show compassion, bravery, and self-sacrifice. That is why I made you commander. You earned it more than all. Be proud of it. I see you are fighting.”

Giselle felt a tear in her eye, but she suppressed it. Either his manipulation was successful, or he saw her as more than weird, wasted potential, or too annoying to deal with. He continued delivering flattering compliments, but Giselle kept doubts. What were his motives?

“Shall we go back? The first morning classes are about to start. And speaking about classes, I would love you to reconsider teaching a class. Your name was clearly lacking on the list of class proposals. Whatever the subject – sneaking, hiding, parkour, climbing – you will help everyone.”

“I will consider it,” Giselle replied.

She lied.

Why would she teach a class? There were state champions in various sports, actual smart people, and Eight was a professional actress. She had no qualifications. No one ever considered her good at anything. She had no accomplishments.

“Great. Many will show up. Don’t worry about that.”

And that was also possible. Someone popular, like Ocelot or Eight, could teach another class simultaneously, and everyone would choose their class. Giselle reckoned she would do the same.

“Thanks for listening,” Washington spoke as they approached the group. Some were already stretching for the dodgeball practice. “And keep on slayin’.”

Giselle died from second-hand embarrassment as they rejoined the group. A wooden box filled with ropes rested on the grass. Of course, it was a normal dodgeball game.

This Chapter show the Qualities of your Writing exceedingly well - congratulations @Beaumains ! Your Style has a natural flow. I know I am repeating myself here

To the Content: We learn more about Giselles Family. That was interesting to learn.

Centrepiece of the Chapter: The Conversation between Giselle and Washington. I think Giselle cannot expect more than the Apology Washington offers her. That he steps in for Ithaca is the right thing. She was under orders - though that is one of the lamest Excuse in the Book. I know
If Giselle will forgive Antoinette - to me it seems unlike, at least not soon. Washington has a high Opinion of Giselle, which she finds difficult accept.

Sorry for the absence. i was busy with work and traveling. In the meantime, I also wrote a one-shot about the life of an acorn: https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=22142. Feel free to check it out.

Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago Centrepiece of the Chapter: The Conversation between Giselle and Washington. I think Giselle cannot expect more than the Apology Washington offers her. That he steps in for Ithaca is the right thing. She was under orders - though that is one of the lamest Excuse in the Book. I know
If Giselle will forgive Antoinette - to me it seems unlike, at least not soon. Washington has a high Opinion of Giselle, which she finds difficult accept.

Thanks for the detailed comment! I should have replied to it earlier. Giselle has some mental problems and such stressful situation are not helping. I think you can assume that Washington is genuinely willing to help her, but such problems cannot be solved in a week.

----------------------------------------

After the bondage-dodgeball game, rain conquered the sky. It would soak one in 15 minutes but not in two and continued all afternoon, turning the fields and forest into a muddy mess. Washington, Orlando, and Hanover had to cancel the afternoon’s bushcraft workshops and entertain 30 teens inside. Their alternative program did not please Giselle.

They tried to teach skills every spy needs: how to identify, remember, and describe people and faces. At first, Giselle deemed it amusing, but six hours was too much. It was dull, delicate, and demanding, and “testing your long-time concentration” was a dreadful excuse. And Giselle was not any good. Try to play Guess Who? with 100 real faces, all thirty-somethings whose hair is cut out of the photo. Try to describe a face for someone to identify in a pile of 200 photos in as few words as possible. Try to play a game of Match Cards, the memory game, with real faces, but for each pair, one photo had the person wear a gag or blindfold while the other was without. It was all impossible for Giselle.

Washington advised them to try different strategies and see what works best, but Giselle saw the floor spinning beneath her. “Concentrate, Gigi,” Willet reiterated when they watched a video and went through a list of faces and whether they appeared in the video or not.

“I’m feeling dizzy. I’m trying, really,” Giselle replied. In school, she would have given up more dramatically, but here, it was a slow, cruel death until dinner. She had lost her last four rounds of games.

Willet grabbed her hand. “I’m tired, too.” But it was unfair. Willet was 5th in the standings, while Giselle was 29th out of 32. “It’s a lot of practice and knowing what to look for. Don’t get tilted. Otherwise, I will tie you up afterward for ruining my score.”

Giselle kept on losing and ended 31st overall. A terrible performance for a commander. For the pizza dinner, she got punished with a thick white straitjacket and a blindfold. Red Deer fed her the pepperoni pizza, which was messy, but Red saw it as an opportunity to have fun. “Would you want another bite, Commander Fox?” she would ask to embarrass Giselle. “It might come at the cost of being taped to the ceiling for a few hours.”

“No tape, please, but I would like another slice,” Giselle replied stoically. She was in a bad mood, did not eat much, and avoided conversation. She had to sing this dinner out. Such punishments were unnecessarily cruel, even when she avoided them.

“Any plans for tonight?” Macaw asked, nestling herself between Leafwing and Giselle on the bench. “I spoke with Ithaca, and nothing’s scheduled for tonight. We could play board games, but a group escape challenge is a more fitting option. Last year, we did it three times, and it was always good fun. Ithaca was willing to help us. Are you in?”

“Yeah, always,” Tarantula beamed. Her love for ties was unnatural. Red Deer, Hedgehog, and Leafwing entered, putting pressure on Honeybee and Giselle. Honeybee caved first.

“Swift Fox, you’re part of the squad. Join!” Tarantula chimed.

“Yeah, we need your flexibility,” Macaw pressured. “Last year, once, we were roped together in two giant clumps and had to reach each other to escape. It’s fun! Come on. What else will you do tonight?”

“Okay, sure,” Giselle caved as the chocolate mousse dessert was served. Red Deer had to help her again.



One hour later, the twelve nervous girls assembled on the sixth floor. As instructed, they all wore black shorts and tank tops. They guessed a number between 1 and 12 to determine their position in the challenge and accompanying blindfold. Macaw got one that was blue and fluffy, but Giselle learned she was among the six girls whose blindfold was more like a helmet or hood. It covered their head except for their mouths and nose. Three little padlocks were included to lock it. Her hood was bright pink and plasticky. She hated it. Even worse, matching pink tape meant for a gag wrapped around her head.

Giselle was among the first group fetched by the counselors and walked into the big room where they had fenced days earlier. The office cubicles and long tables were still there. Together with Hedgehog, the counselors led her to a corner and zipped something tightly around her legs and feet. She could not stand up anymore or move her legs apart. They forced her hands into mitts and bound them behind her back. She could do little more than squeal as something enclosed around her.

“Okay, girls, you can start. The best of luck!” Ithaca shouted fifteen minutes later.

Giselle smirked behind her taped mouth. She had no clue where to start.

Cottontail scraped her throat. “It seems quite complicated today,” she said. Giselle was jealous she was not gagged. “Snipe and I can see and speak but cannot move at all. Red Deer, Swift Fox, Hedgehog, Leafwing, Tarantula, Willet: You’re bound roughly the same. You are blindfolded, have a mermaid’s tail locked around your legs, and are rolled into fishing nets. Tarantula, Macaw, Lionfish, and Gerbil, you are locked into chests, but your arms are sticking out. Our mermaids have to collect the keys and boxes, and you have to free them.”

“Let’s do this,” Hedgehog whispered, who had not been given a gag. Ribbons and strings caught them in the net, and they had to reach someone locked in a chest. “I’m not screwing you over today. I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Giselle mumbled in her gag, but she had no clue whether Hedgehog understood her. Two weeks ago, during their joint escape after the bondage boot camp, Hedgehog had refused to untie Giselle. Giselle had not trusted her since.

“Fox, go forward, Hedgehog, a little to your left. Maybe 20 yards in total,” Snipe spoke as the duo shuffled forward, tangled up in the net and bouncing against each other like two floundering fish. It was exhausting, having no grip on the wooden floor. “Good job. You’re doing amazing.”

Snipe and Hedgehog kept encouraging her. “Let’s be the first ones free. We can do that,” the latter said halfway. She was more flexible than Giselle and had her arms cuffed to her collar, allowing her to use her elbows. Giselle was holding them up, which only enlarged her build-up frustration. Finally, with her cuffed hands sticking outside the wooden cube, Tarantula worked the knots and freed them from the fishing net. Next, she untied Giselle’s arms but could not remove the mitts or any bounds from Hedgehog.

Doing nothing but issuing commands, Snipe continued. “Tennis balls are scattered throughout the room. Keys are taped to them. There are ammo boxes with padlocks as well. I’ll let you start collecting them.”

Giselle rolled her eyes. The prize for their record-breaking 20-yard dash was more rolling. With her arms free, Giselle was the most mobile and was sent to a far corner to collect six keys and two boxes for Gerbil. None of the keys fitted anywhere, and she returned to hunt for more. There were dozens of keys, roughly 100, so it would be a long evening. For the nth time, she regretted her decision to join.

The plastic tail soaked Giselle’s legs with sweat, and the crawling bruised her elbows and turned her hair into a dusty mop. Worst of all, she was clueless. Blind, disorientated, and with a dry mouth, Giselle crawled around, collecting the balls and cases and bringing them to the girls in the chests. As all had some keys chained near their chests, the obvious strategy of getting everything to one person failed. Everything had to be moved around a million times. However, they made progress as none of her bonds got unlocked. Quickly, Red Deer could use her ten fingers again, while Leafwing was granted the gift of sight, and more minor victories were reported.

“Fox,” Cottontail repeated, standing on the table and chained to the ceiling. “Move the boxes to Lionfish.” She helped Giselle in the correct direction, but Giselle was anything but content, rolling and pushing in the dark.

She was being pranked. Again.

Had Red Deer and Willet not threatened her? She had not even attempted to piss them off.

“Those tails are soooooo cute!” Willet beamed after shedding her blindfold and gag. “Fox, turn around. Oh, man, I wish I could show you a photo.”

Giselle reddened, both out of shame and anger. She was naive. She had fallen for another cheap trick.

Leafwing’s tail was pulled off, and with only one lock from her blindfold remaining, she freed Snipe and Cottontail, giving the keys fixed to their chokers. Now, Macaw and Lionfish could be freed from the chests. How had no key fitted in one of her locks?

Giselle was useless now, with so many enjoying their full ability. She lay on the ground as others went around with the last remaining keys. One of the three locks for her blindfold was removed, but she felt the tide was shifting. The lucky ones who were free had slowed down, hugging and congratulating each other.

“And you are still tied? Do you like that? Hiding under a desk,” Lionfish joked.

“Pppphhreee mmmiiieee,” Giselle replied. She was unaware of her location.

“Pink suits you well, Fox,” Macaw joined in. Lionfish and Macaw picked her up and laid her on the desk. “Don’t move too much. If you fall, it will hurt.”

“So only our commander remains?” Willet approached. She could not help that her fingers found Giselle’s sides.

“Red’s still blindfolded,” Macaw answered. “But for the rest, we succeeded.”

Willet laughed. She had sat down on the desk and pinned Giselle’s wrists down while she tickled her victim. “Should we release Fox? She’s way too cute like this, and she won’t let this happen again soon, I reckon.”

Silence followed, and Giselle felt tears boiling up. Why was she still trying? These people were a lost cause.

“Release her, guys,” a soft voice spoke from a distance, and it took Giselle a moment to register who her savior was. Hedgehog? That’s odd… “You can continue. Sure, but she won’t be happy.”

Giselle understood the implied “You know how she is.” Willet unlocked the mitts, blindfold, and tail. She tried to conjure a smile on her face. “Thanks, Hedge, I appreciate it. I’m going to bed now. See you tomorrow.”

She had turned around and desired her private shower and bedroom when Willet grabbed her. “You okay? I was joking. Sorry, I did not mean…”

“It’s fine. I’m merely exhausted.”

“I did not mean to… I forgot, Fox,” Willet whispered. “Are you taking a prisoner tonight?”

“No, I prefer some proper rest.”

She had ruined the victorious atmosphere and should have shown more sportsmanship like Red was being forced to sing a childish song before Tarantula and Gerbil gave her the key to the aqua hood covering her eyes. But that was not her problem nor her fault.

I will comment in Detail later, so for now just a short impression. The "Challenge" Giselle and her Team Mates had to do was very creative.

Some of the others obviously could not resist pranking Giselle again - that she was thoroughly annoyed is only too understandable.

That Hedgehog did the right Thing was nice.

Welcome back, @Baum1324. Giselle is having a hard time again/still.

43.

Two days passed. After finishing a breakfast burrito, Giselle approached the whiteboard containing that morning's classes. It was the first day the campers taught themselves.

Round 1:
Tae-Kwan-Do, Ocelot, next to the playground
Fence-hopping, Ibyx, factory (meet before HQ entrance)
Escape larger opponents, Gerbil, 1st floor gym

Round 2:
Comfortable long-term bondage, Tarantula, classroom 13
Hiding, Swift Fox, classroom 21
Extracting information, Pangolin, cafeteria

"You are going to smash it, Fox," Eight beamed, putting an arm around Giselle. She had returned late last evening. The four days she had filled with a photo shoot, four interviews, a two-hour podcast appearance, an audition, and a flight from New York to Los Angeles. Her hair was still camera-ready, and her nails were still lime green. "Don't be nervous. You're the expert."

"But I'm not formally trained, you know. I'm doing whatever feels good to me."

Eight smirked. "No more excuses. Okay? You are clarified. You went over your plan with Dallas, and she approved it. You prepared all evening. People will come." She gave Giselle a hug. "And I have a surprise for you afterward."



Giselle fiddled with her thumbs in the minivan returning from the factory. She felt the need to pee again, and her stomach ached. Ibyx's fence-hopping class had distracted her from her forthcoming class, but she had learned little. Ibyx was a rock climber and a goody-two-shoes while she was a professional trespasser. Still, he had found good challenges around the factory.

She fetched her notebook and went upstairs to the classroom on the second floor. Hannover, Honeybee, Ibyx, and Spider Octopus were already waiting inside. "Hey, thanks for coming," Giselle mumbled, standing in front of the tiny classroom. Why had she let herself be bullied into doing this? There were 15 chairs, but not all would be filled. Willet, Leafwing, Ocelot, Snipe, and Cottontail entered before Hannover told Giselle to start.

"Hi, everyone. Today, I want to teach you a piece of my mind about hiding from people. Some consider hide-and-seek to be pure RNG, but it is not. There is skill involved. I could tell you what I think is good advice, but what do you think? What would be your advice?" Giselle said.

It felt uncomfortable. The seconds before Eight raised her hand were awful. "Wild guess: Hide high because most people are looking down."

"Good guess," Giselle replied while writing it on the whiteboard. "Anyone else?"

"Don't stand out," Willet said.

"Find a chaotic place where there are many potential places," Ocelot mouthed. "Some place with a way out."

A few more ideas followed, and Giselle listed them without judging them. "There are decent ideas here, but let's test them. Please split into pairs." Her students complied. "In room 23, I have hidden rubber ducks. You have two minutes to find them. Please note on the sheet in what order you found them. Okay? Also, sadly, the ceiling is out of bounds."

She sent Willet and Cottontail into the classroom first as Hannover timed them with an old-fashioned digital stopwatch with buttons on top. Giselle's heart pounded. She took a risk. Were her homebrew theories correct? She had escaped the police a dozen times when they were called for trespassing and had usually escaped her older former friends from WeWereThere. She customarily won their hide-and-seek games in abandoned places, like a beer brewery, grocery store, military base, metro station, and supposedly haunted house. Willet and Eight knew that Gigi, her former online persona, enjoyed the reputation of always finding little nooks and crannies, getting inside walls, floors, and ceilings, and hiding in dense foliage for hours. They had even sold a few hundred t-shirts with a newspaper print with the headline Gigi vanished. Again.

When Cottontail and Willet handed in their list, she sighed with relief. The duck with a Donald Duck sitting on the projector was found first because it was visible, then the green one in the closet, the pink one above the door, the Darth Vader-themed one taped under a table, and the one behind the dictionaries in the closet in that order. They had not found the duck with the red bikini behind the closet nor the white one outside on the windowsill and the one in Hannover's jacket's pocket. The other three pairs achieved similar results, and she copied them on the whiteboard.

"So, what can we conclude from this experiment?" Giselle started, now getting to her own thoughts and explaining why some ducks were found before others. "You found Donald Duck quickly, but nobody has commented about the duck on this room's projector. Why? Because nobody was looking. Was it a bad hiding spot? Only when people are actively looking."

"It all depends on the seekers' motivations. When they are not actively looking or don't expect you to be in a specific area, being out of sight is your first priority. You play a mental game with your opponent and thus consider their ideas and strategies."

"When people search actively, they evaluate where someone could be hiding. That is, they imagine where they would hide and search there. Hence, if you enter that one dark crack everyone notices when passing by, it will be examined thoroughly. Hiding becomes a psychological game: Hide somewhere that others would never consider hiding themselves."

Giselle scraped her throat. Things were never black-and-white, and hiding was anything but an exact science. But you cannot always be precise. "Indeed, most people intuitively hide beneath things and do not look as much up. Hiding in a gigantic mess can help, as there are too many potential spots to consider. But hiding in a smaller spot nearby often does the trick. No one expects you not to dive into that mess if you are nearby. Hence, they won't search that other spot."

She started to give more advice, but nobody likes dry theory. It was time for another minigame. She was already halfway through her 90-minute class. She split the group into two and gave everyone a mannequin. One group would hide them on the second floor and one on the fifth floor. Because these teens were weirdos, she had also handed them ropes to tie them up.

Hopping between the two teams as they were hiding the mannequins, the 20 minutes passed quickly. It took 15 more minutes to find and untie all the mannequins, and Giselle wrapped the class up.

"Thanks, Fox," Leafwing said as she left. "This could be useful. Very insightful. I wonder where you learned this..."

"That's classified," Giselle replied, and behind Leafwing, Willet winked.

The other campers also mumbled a few thanking words, which made Giselle feel good. Then, only Hannover remained. "How did it go, Swift Fox?"

"It was fine."

"Do you like teaching and speaking in front of the group?"

"There are worse things in life."

"That's a shame. It was excellent. You should be proud," the councilor beamed. "I had hoped you would teach this class again in a week or two. At least reconsider that."

Giselle had no wish to talk to Hannover. She cleaned the whiteboard and collected her notebook before leaving. Honeybee and Eight were waiting outside. The latter instantly grabbed Giselle in a tight embrace. "Good job, Fox. You see, you totally got it." She opened Giselle's hand and pushed a nougat bar with candied fruit into it. Giselle moved it into her pocket. "I smuggled it in," the actress whispered. "Enjoy. You deserve something nice."

They descended to the canteen. Parmesan fish sticks, potato wedges, and salad were today's offerings. Strangely, Washington stood in front of the tables with a binder in his arms. They grabbed food and sat down at their usual table.

"Our country calls on you once more," he spoke in a dark, sad voice. "Commanders, find me after lunch to start preparations."

Eight smirked, and the rest of the room enthusiastically rumored about the upcoming mission. Giselle deemed it an extra effort for her and childish roleplay.

Hannover is right: Giselle has a Talent for Teaching. The Way she delivered her Lesson was well done. And it seems Giselle likes teaching. Even if she downplay this by telling "There are worse things in Life" Who knows? Maybe Giselle has discovered a new Talent of hers - which she learns to appreciate and to accept. It is really interesting to see @Beaumains, the way you show us Giselle´s Development.

Well done!

Caesar73 wrote: 9 months ago Hannover is right: Giselle has a Talent for Teaching. The Way she delivered her Lesson was well done. And it seems Giselle likes teaching. Even if she downplay this by telling "There are worse things in Life" Who knows? Maybe Giselle has discovered a new Talent of hers - which she learns to appreciate and to accept.

Yeah, Giselle took an evening to prepare her class, and it went well. Especially as she is used to public speaking.

I just think she lacks confidence and is afraid of failure (or better said, rejection). Projecting that something went badly, is not meant to be, or even was not perfect is her coping mechanism for not daring to commit to and believe in ideas, friendships and passion projects. At first, trying to act like a rebel was her way of distancing herself from commitments and showing her true self. Now, she feels the pressure to be perfect.

Giselle certainly has many talents but can be her own worst enemy.