Stories of Tie Up Games

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, and @LunaDog

Chapter 005: For Ashley - Nabber Cellar
Thursday, May 21, 2015

“Hey, Maddy!” I picked up the phone for my friend, “Wassup?”
“Nabber Cellar wants you to come over with me this evening. Are you game?”
“Why didn't they call me directly?” that confused me, “You gave them my number?”
“Carl tried, but he wrote the wrong number down,” Maddy cackled, “He’s like that.”
“You told him I have to be dominated by a girl, right?”
“Why do you think I’m going there? Kendra will text you the address. 7PM good? Great!”

Then Maddy hung up the phone on me! That was her way, though. Now a new question formed in my mind. Should I bring Michela, or would the intensity be a trigger for her? Both she and I already were the difficult girls who wouldn't let Steve tie us up over at TAC. I walked back to the bedroom and sat down with my lover and her sister.

Was I trying too hard? Was I spoiling Ashley or empowering her to be demanding? Worse, was this all a dumb idea, and I should put my foot down? My life has been absolutely chaotic since I began this quest. Was this even really helpful for her, or was it harmful? I wasn't certain, and no one could help me with this. I was broken and parentless, not even knowing if my own were still in Minnesota or even alive for that matter. I’d driven by my childhood home last, and there were new residents in the home.

“Michela, I’m going out for work tonight,” I spoke cryptically, “Sit this one out, please?”
“If you're going to Nabber Cellar, you have to bring me,” Michela got bossy.
“I don't want you to get triggered at all. I know your dad used them for inspiration.”
“That's exactly why I need to go,” she explained, “To exorcise my personal demons.”
“Sounds like self-torture to me,” my stance remaimed firm, “Michela, I love you too much. No.”
“Luisa, am-scray,” the firmness in her voice was strong, “Shut the door, too.”
“Yes, sis,” Luisa took off like a bat out of hell.
“You,” Michela pointed right at me, “Don't f-cking order me around in front of my sisters.”
“Sh-t, Michela. I’m sorry,” now I cowered and stood up to leave.
“Hannah, quit running from reality. It hurts me when you do that. I suffer when you suffer.”

I turned back to the girl I loved. The white bandana headband that held her hair back seemed to be symbolic of how truly innocent she still was despite her bondage adventure with me. Michela suffered with me? How could she, though? Was this another one of her bizarre religious ideas to which I was growing more receptive? Was this a confession of the depths of our friendship?

Michela walked over to me and brushed my hair back. My hair was down today, and she looked down into my eyes as someone can only if they love the other person. A tear ran down her right cheek. This wasn't lust. The vacant eyes struggled to experience something more powerful than the usual emotions. What did Michela feel right now? No kisses and no eros. Just a hug came.

That hug was better than eros. That was true friendship. We might lust for each other, but deep down our friendship is much deeper than that. We have no secrets, but we have topics that hurt too much to discuss. Sometimes, though, we overstepped the emotional boundaries and feelings were hurt.

Michela was wearing one of her typical skirt outfits, a knee-length denim miniskirt (knee-length is unusual), a black button-up short-sleeve blouse, and the bandana are her outfit. I’m wearing a pair of blue gym shorts and a yellow t-shirt. Before we leave, I add a blue bandana headband to complete my outfit.

“Let's go to NC together, hmm?” I asked her.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 018: My Second Christmas in Juvie
Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Christmas dinner and dessert were bittersweet on this Christmas. Christmas, in general, was the worst torture of the entire year. No Christmas presents for any of us except the visitors we got on this day. But, the prison was decorated with lights hanging from the corners of the hallways; the walls were lined with snowflakes and the like. We were allowed to go outside to make snowmen instead of having a normal gym day. There were some things that I will cherish about it, like the friendships. I sat down with my friends not knowing if this would be our last Christmas together. I was completely wrong, and instead it was to be the first of many special Christmas seasons, an incredible run that continues to this day.

Ms. Wagner was incredible. She made desserts to bring to the pod this year! What a darling she was, just like Mrs. Copley. Ms. Wagner had no children, and she never got married. She doted on us like the children she never had. Delicious cheesecake and Christmas cookies of different kinds appeared throughout the day. We may have been prisoners, but we were still kids. When Ms. Wagner retired, I found myself with very large shoes to fill.

“Five Christmases without my parents,” Ashley moped, “Why does she do this?”
“You want some cheesecake?” I asked my friend with genuine hope.
“I do not want to get it,” she seemed afraid of Ms. Wagner.
“Come on. Let's go. Come on. Ashley,” I encouraged her until she snapped.
“You are a fool,” she snapped and returned to her cell to mope some more.
“Here you are,” I put a plate by her a minute later, “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

——————————————————————————————

Nabber Cellar relied upon brutal scenes with tight bondage, overkill ropework, and vicious gags. Nudity was going to likely be a necessity; pain was on the menu for the delight it brings. I have signed up for this, and I am not backing down. I feel Michela shaking in my grip while she tries to process the things she had seen here some 5+ years ago. Could she take it?

“Carl, this is Hannah Larsson, and Hannah brought a friend along just in case,” Maddy smiled.
“No rush on anything, ladies,” Carl seems very congenial, “Let's worry about paperwork first.”
“All right. What will we be doing?”
“I thought we’d start with you just dressed as you are. Your friend can join too, if you'd like.”
“That’d be just what Hannah and Michela need! C’mon, Hannah,” Mary-Ann’s eyes glowed.
“No problem,” Carl was huge but friendly, “It's not that hard.”

Tied together would surely be best! We could find out in one scene to determine if we're willing to come back for more or not. This was going to be wild, especially since NC did few photos for advertising purposes. We were going into the lion’s den, and we had the wildcat Mary-Ann tying us up. Speaking of Mary-Ann…

A catsuit for Mary-Ann Voisin. Of course, she had her black bandana headband from juvie. But it was a catsuit, and she looked ravishing in the black, form-fitting, shiny material. That smile of satisfaction was on her face, and it revealed a slight sparkle in her eyes. Those eyes told so much about her. She was beautiful, big, strong, sweet, and, most of all, adventurous.

I know M.A.’s pain. Really, I know it. She was only 11 when she was taken from her family but with good cause. Her parents would get restaurant food while she ate a Chef Boyardee. Serious parents don't do that to their child, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Her parents had it all, and Mary-Ann was lucky to get a box of Little Debbie snacks. Her parents saw no reason to feed her more than was absolutely essential.

I had moved on from missing my parents. Now, it was seering confusion, wondering why they'd abandon their only child after years of loving her. I did eat the same food my parents did, and if they went to the bakery or the ice cream parlor or just got a frozen pie then I got some too. Still, they left me alone, forsaken, and unwanted. They broke my heart, and part of it is injured to this day. Maddy and I commiserate because our children only have paternal grandparents; for me it is awkward because my children have Grandma Larsson in their lives.

The eponymous cellar is in two parts. One part is dark and completely unfinished, sporting bare concrete floors and walls, exposed rafters and studs, and such. The other is completely finished to make a complete room with cream walls. This left room is where we do the first scene where Michela and I are tied together.

Arm chairs and zip ties were a great choice for us. Maddy surely had told them about my varied experience in bondage starting in high school. I sat down with a smile on my face and let Maddy do her thing. For this first scene, there’d be no scenes or drama. Just two girls gagged, zipped to a chair, struggling to escape a hopeless situation.

Mary-Ann grins like a kid in a candy store. She loves bondage on a very different level from me or Michela because she gets such a thrill from not only dominating but also dressing the part. I’ll gleefully dominate anyone while smiling like the Cheshire cat, but I won’t wear a catsuit unless I am told to as part of the scene. The familiar black bandana holds her crazy curls away from her eyes. She’s been doing stuff for this studio for 3 months now and really growing to love it.

The zips one by one secured me to the chair in simple fashion, but they were used in numbers. I was going to be stuck for sure. For ease, Maddy put the chairs side-by-side and bound the two of us simultaneously. Some of my friends call them “plastic devils” with good reason. For me, it’s a good sensation because it’s one I never experienced at the hands of anyone evil. Cuffs and tape were my molester’s preferred methods, and I hope to get to the story where I finally faced cuffs.

Lots of plastic devils lined our arms. Just four alone on each forearm started our bondage; three for each humerus followed; then she put five on each lower leg. Black bondage plastic lined our bodies everywhere! Oh, what a thrill, and I saw Michela getting excited by this. I wondered just how she felt about this scenario. Then came the longer zips; three of those secured our thighs to the set of the chair, including one right at the waist. Then more secured our torsos to the chair; it started with one at the waist; then it progressed to one below our tits, one above our tits, and one halfway between our tits and waist. These weren’t as tight because exposure was on the menu.

It was the gags when happiness went south for the winter. We got to keep our respective pairs of white socks and classic Converse sneakers, with Michela’s being the kind that goes up the ankle. Can you tell I’m paying more attention to her than myself? It’s with good cause, too, because it was now I learned something about Michela. Kendra and I can keep a secret, and Kendra kept it too well. Mary-Ann didn’t know about Michela’s relationship with gags.

LIGHTS. CAMERA. ACTION.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 019: Christmas Eve with Michela
Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Food everywhere! Oh. My. God. There is going to be a much deeper discussion of this day that featured so many things that I cannot forget. People were everywhere, and I was “just” one of Michela’s friends for tonight although I was more than a friend. The best part, though, was the surprise from Michela when she gave me my first Bible. I wasn’t that interested in religion yet, but I still cried because she truly wanted me to follow her beliefs in such a profound manner.

I made a promise to another friend, though. I won’t spoil this because it was the most significant day in Michela’s post-juvie life for so many good reasons, and it belongs with her personal story.

“Merry Christmas, Michela,” we exchanged an erotic kiss under the mistletoe before the party.
“The Christmas gift is having you in my life and being home again.”

——————————————————————————————

The film began with a 1.5 inch red ball gag going into my mouth while I squealed and fought the dominatrix in black. She easily jammed it in as I didn’t try too hard to resist. But Michela didn’t know she was getting ball gagged as well until she saw the white 2.0 inch ball gag approaching her mouth. I watched the life drain out of her body.

“NO!” she yelled and turned away, “That’s a bad gag! Don't do it! Bad gags are for evil!”
“Open wide!”
“Bad gag! NO! It’s a bad gag! NO!” Michela yelled, but then Mary-Ann won the war.
“Ha! Got that in there!” the winner unknowingly fastened the gag and stepped out of view.
“NO! NO! NO! -AD -AG! -AD -AG!” my girl yelled, then shrieked, “EEEEEEEEE!”
“MMMMMMM!” tears started rolling down my cheeks as I watched my girlfriend tap out.

Then Michela surrendered and resorted to quietly crying while disbelieving that one of her best friends had just violated one of her strictest boundaries. This was it. This quiet, mournful, slow, and desperate struggle with little motion, a tear on her cheek, a ball gag in her mouth, and a sad whimper was the Michela of over 100 r-pings at the hands of her father. I tried not to let this ruin the scene and struggled, and they switched the camera focus to me.

As bad as it sounds, no one knew any better. We were actresses acting like we truly feared death in their eyes. It was too real, though. My poor girlfriend was being unwittingly forced to recall such horrible memories, memories which she had suppressed. The only reason I can conjecture why this didn’t happen that one day at TAC is because I was the one who gagged her.

Mary-Ann silently got Michela back to reality with comforting whispers that reminded her that it wasn’t the gag that was bad but the person. Something clicked with Michela, and she resurfaced to a hybridized typical lifeless state. She continued to say “Bad gag” over and over. This cryptic message conveyed it perfectly to me. This was a hard moment for her, and no one on the set was going to be any wiser until after Michela’s gag came out.

I could now imagine the hockey star, the one I saw in the photos from that last Christmas, getting hammered by the evil figure who was also in those photos. It was a terrible thing to imagine, but it was vivid in my mind as if I had been witness to the evil deeds. I couldn’t tolerate the thought, and I instead pushed myself into another mode. There were only a few modes I had myself, but I was, pardon my humor in such a dark moment, bound and determined.

“-ou unhie -e -ight -ow!” I demanded of Mary-Ann to set this ship back on course.
“Oh, think you can talk back to me?” she pulled my shirt out from under the zips, as expected.
“YEAH! -et -e -o!” I replied confidently.
“Not a chance,” she hiked my sports bra up and tightened the zips, “Enjoy,” she twisted my tits.
“OWWW!”
“Don’t mess with me, my dear!” Mary-Ann turns to Michela and unbuttons the shirt.
“Mmmmm,” my defeated girlfriend groans, and looks at M.A., “-ad -ag. -et -e -o. Hleathe?”
“I’m not letting you go,” the dominatrix keeps her back to the camera, “Remember your girl over there. She loves you for real. That’s why I kidnapped you two together.”
“MMMMM!” something clicks with Michela when she is reminded of my presence, “MMM!”
“That’s my future slave!” the bra slides up, the zips are tightened, and the tits are twisted.
“YOW! Ah’ll -et -ou hor thith!”

Mary-Ann, you did something special that night. You brought Michela a little closer to escaping the psychological prison that completely encapsulated her essence. She will never escape it, but at least there is now a doorway by which visitors can enter and wrap their arms around her. I can never thank you enough because you not only helped Michela but also helped make her be more of a best friend to me than she already was.

My imagination runs amok. My mind creates a false image… no, a lifelike image… of Michela. She is frogtied and gagged with a bright red ball gag, just like the one we burned. Her father is violently abusing her. The girl squeals and cries in soft volumes, but she suffers just the same. I am distraught by the sight.

The vision fades to a lifeless girl sitting on the sofa. She is watching hockey, but no pleasure can come from it. It’s just motion on a screen. Her eyes see hockey, but her mind sees her father just 15 minutes before. She is filthy in her eyes, so during intermission she takes a shower. Even this is insufficient, and she goes to bed at second intermission. Then she cries herself to sleep.


——————————————————————————————

Interlude 020: Christmas with Mary-Ann
Thursday, December 25, 2014

“You know when the last time I ate bologna was?” I asked Mary-Ann.
“Hold on… Rummy. No, when was the last time? How about mustard for that matter?”
“A sandwich of Kraft singles and mustard is regular fare for me, but bologna, damn,” I thought about it, “2012 for sure. I’ve had meat only four times since Greg killed me.”
“No wonder you're so thin and only keep the muscle you have. You're hungry.”
“Don't start on me,” I groaned, “Kendra is just as annoying.”
“Well, move in with Michela,” she piled it on, “You’ll get to share a bed with her.”

This was my Christmas. I should have spent it with my grandmother and dragged Mary-Ann to her house with me, but I was a punk who felt like an outcast. Besides, if I were there, then my parents would be there. I didn't want to see their faces. So, here we were playing Rummy 500 and eating bologna sandwiches with a frozen pie for dessert.

Neither of us could cook well. We had no one else. Mary-Ann was further above poverty than I was, but she worked two jobs as well. She also had no cell phone or internet and wasn't paying college tuition. I was stubborn, foolish, and determined. I wish I had her humility.

——————————————————————————————

Michela looks at me. She knows escape is impossible. It’s time to continue… as an act. We are to wail and cry like we’re truly helpless, but this time we’re bondage models and not a distraught pair of lovers. The exposure of our breasts is really arousing, and Mary-Ann decides to turn it all up a notch in the next round. We had two scenes to create, after all, and in the next one I needed to fly solo in it. It was a brief scene, but what came after was what really mattered. Michela soon grabbed our friend by the arm with a gentle but firm grip.

“Mary-Ann, it’s time for a reality check. I don’t like talking about my past, but it matters here.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Maddy squirmed in her dominatrix catsuit.
“You did something horrible, and it worked. My daddy’s favorite gags were that kind. They’re bad gags in the wrong hands; Daddy’s a bad man, though.”
“I didn’t mean to make you tap out. I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known.”
“Well, you did something big. I tapped out when Hannah used one of those on me during a TAC scene, too,” Michela smirked a little, “It’s not a bad gag. It's… Daddy who's bad.”
“I’m glad something good came out of it. Are you OK?” Maddy was answered with a hug.
“I’m fine,” but Michela instead burst into the tears of her traumatic past, “Why did he do it?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

I had never seen Mary-Ann so remorseful for her actions, but thankfully Carl was a patient man. I joined the hug and cried a bit too. M.A. didn't know better for real. Michela needed a moment like this to awaken her to the reality that her father had done evil things with the ball gags being an instrument of torture for her him to use. Michela's bondage journey continues to this day, and ring gags still trigger both in sight and in name. Ashley once mentioned doing ring gag sex with a guy, and Michela walked over and slapped her! Ashley didn't know the phrase was a trigger.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 021: Mary-Ann Again
Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Shopping day. At Wal-Mart, if I go between 6 PM and 11PM, I will find Mary-Ann working one of the cash registers. I always go in her line, and we get to chat. Today, we talk about my plans for going to community college and the classes I am taking. She is the only friend in my life at this point, and the flip side is true that I am her only friend.

“Look at you, being a success. I’m not doing too bad either,” she smiled.
“You're doing really well considering. I’m proud of you!” I returned her smile with my own.
“Hannah, never give up. God’s just waiting for…”
“Spare me the fairy tales,” I cut her off.
“Nice way to talk to me,” she frowned, “$23.82.”
“Starving time will be returning soon,” I laugh off my morbid reality.

As I walked away, Mary-Ann began privately praying a rosary for me.

——————————————————————————————

“GUH!” I grunted out loudly while Michela watched in arousal at the sight of me.
“Good night, my dear!” my own bandana was used to blindfold me.

Things had been turned up more than a notch. I was in my birthday suit, which was sexy, but the ropes were vicious. The rough brown rope torqued me way worse than anything I’d experienced to that point of my life. My elbows and wrists were crushed together. The harness was tight and really thrust my breasts out. The waist and crotch rope were merciless, passing tightly between my butt crack and my p-ssy lips. Three ropes tied my thighs; four tied my legs; rough string of a similar texture tied my big toes. Maddy’s socks and 9 layers of duct tape gagged me. A vibrator was taped to my thigh and pushed against my crotch. I was lying on a rough wooden slab table of some sort.

“MMMMMMMM!” I cried out because Mary-Ann was putting clamps on my tits.
“Awww, did that hurt, little girl?” my captor taunted me.
“Mmm hmm!” I groaned into her socks to no available.
“No complaining!” she paddled my butt!
“OWWWWWW! MMMMMM!” I squirmed quite a bit in my helpless state.
“None of that!”

This was a standard debut for NC, to see how a girl reacted to a sensory overload. It was often just entitled as “Model name’s Test.” The bondage was absolutely brutal, the tightest I had ever experienced. But, it was extremely arousing for both me and my girlfriend. Escape wasn’t on my mind because there was absolutely no chance of that at all.

She spanked me repeatedly and tortured my tits without mercy until she did the roughest thing I had yet experienced in bondage. My first ever hair tie came next, with the rope going around my ankles for a hogtie, around my crotch rope for torture, around my wrists for security, and back to my ankles to get knotted out of reach. It truly was a torture for the ages, and it was extremely, I mean extremely, arousing for me. I didn’t know then that this kind of intensity was my limit and also my peak pleasure.

“GMMMM!” I groaned again and arched in orgasm.
“Ooh, you can move. I’ll have to tie you down to this board.”
“GUH!”

She sure did tie me down, albeit while on my side! It’s a lot of rope and brutal to keep me in that way, but she did it. Now, she can torque my tits and paddle my butt. I’m not too sure how much of this I really want to handle, but I am a trooper. It’s the camera really, and I found out later that they took a nice close-up of me orgasming the second time which came right… about… now. It is a vice of mine that once I am orgasming I become hard to stop and regular. What varies is the intensity of them, which is dependent upon the stimulation. Cameras reduce my tenacity.

“GAHHH!” I shriek when Mary-Ann paddles my tits and then my butt cheeks with ferocity.
“Can you take it, my beauty?”
“No!” I admitted the truth, “Unhie -e! Ah han’h hake any -ore!”
“All right, then. That’s a wrap, Carl! Don’t feel bad. It builds with experience.”
“I can comfort her,” Michela came over and planted a kiss on my lips, “I love you, honey.”
“You want to take her home like this, don’t you?” Mary-Ann giggled.
“Of course. I love her. But we have to untie her. To help her.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 022: Rope

The Cool Girls’ Club taught me the love of rope and gags through my friend Casey Clark. We were looking for a way to induct new members into the Club that wouldn't be harmful to them but would also serve as a potential deterrent. I jokingly suggested tying them up, and Casey took off with the idea.

That gave birth to my bondage journey. I had no idea I would be arrested one day or engage in a series of increasingly violent and deadly bondage activities with my boyfriend, Greg, or that the prison had corrupt guards who liked shackling and molesting teenage girls. To this day, anything near my anus causes me to absolutely freak out, and I cannot engage in anything but vanilla sex with my husband.

Michela and Kylie have similar journeys. The former has finally progressed to allowing men to flirt with her and flirting back, but she has not gone further. Kylie loves a hearty strap-on session but only for vaginal or oral sex. Anal literally makes her have a nervous breakdown. She has an unusual relationship with men, too; it's so complicated I don't know how to explain it. All three of us exclusively see female doctors.

All three of us are addicted to bondage, especially rope bondage. We're all bondage models. We all love carpet and dirty sock gags. We all struggle to hide our arousal for women, which for me is problematic because I am married now. We're all ruined.

Is it any wonder we've had so many threesomes over the years?

——————————————————————————————

“MMMM! MMMMMM!” I grind against Michela’s p-ssy with my own, “I love you so much.”
“Hannah, we’ve been playing since 10:15. It’s almost 1AM. Please untie me.”
“Can’t you sleep like this?” I am in a manipulative state due to the hormones.
“I can make a scene, and then we’ll both be in trouble with you on the street.”
“You wouldn’t dare?!” I looked at her in fear.
“You’re out of control,” her concern shook me so much that chills went down my spine.
“I’m… sorry… I…”
“You forgot your medication again, didn’t you? Hannah!”

I have borderline personality disorder, and it really screws with me. Sometimes, I forget to take my medicine, and then I do stuff like this. It’s terribly unhealthy for me mentally and physically, but I do forget. No wonder I broke so easily at NC; my hormones are screwed up. My BPD has been a source of sorrow my entire life, and it torments me night and day even in the present.

I untied her, grabbed my clothes, and went downstairs to take a shower. I never did such things, but I needed time alone to contemplate what had happened that evening. Was I so desperate to get the money for Ashley that I was hurting myself, pushing myself too much, and taking risks that I couldn’t handle? I had been pinching pennies as if it needed to be done ASAP instead of just taking my time and fulfilling my vow when it was convenient.

Talk about overcompensation. When I was a kid, I rarely got what I wanted even when it was a reasonable request. My parents, in hindsight, provided me with all I needed to live and at least let me eat with them unlike some kids, but they never went above and beyond like Michela’s. I was still blessed, but now I realize that I was more a status item than a person to them. Why did they drop me like a hot potato though? I was 16 when they abandoned me.

Hell, bring on TAC day. Whatever day that is.

——————————————————————————————

Which of the three gags at TAC will Hannah get first?
(A) Classic white bandana cleave gag
(B) Sexy red duct tape gag
(C) Medical bandage cleave gag

B

Shall we play 'doctor's and nurses?' Lets go for the medical option, 'B'

C

Chapter 006: For Ashley - Tied After Class Part 1
Saturday, May 23, 2015

My favorite routine of all had to be meeting Kendra for coffee and doughnuts. Walking into the Dunkin’ Donuts, I looked around for my Napoleonic friend, and sure enough I spotted a tiny girl with a red bandana headband sitting with a coffee and a box of doughnuts. Today, she was solo without her usual company, which was unsurprising on a weekend, I guess.

“Hey, Kenny, where’s Ashley?” I kissed her on the forehead.
“Hi!” a squeaky voice, Miss Jenny Kristensen, responded, “I don’t know where Kendra is yet.”
“Jokes on me! What are you doing here?”
“Kendra told me about your little breakfast chats, and she invited me to come as a surprise!”
“Sorry I’m late,” the correct Kendra arrived with a bright green kerchief bandana, “Ashley.”
“What’s up with Ashley?”
“Yesterday, we took her to the DMV to get her learner’s permit; she’s got a smelly issue now.”

Kendra didn’t have a regular job like Ashley, Mary-Ann, and I did, so she wanted to join me on my trip to TAC today. She didn’t want to participate necessarily, but she wanted to get out of the house and not go to the store or church.

A part-time bondage model could rake in $200 or more per gig; a full day like Kendra would do with Nabber Cellar once earned her $1000 in one go. Those scenes were rough, took a lot of time to set up, and oftentimes involved two or more takes. I got $35 an hour to rig for TAC on the night Alexandra made her debut and got $100 an hour for modeling; NC the other night was a nice profit of $250 for me and $100 for Michela. That’s before taxes.

Today was going to be my first time doing a full-day of shooting for a studio, but I was looking forward to it. It was just going to be me, Steve, and Marcy with Kendra as a witness. Having a witness was advisable but not necessary; I knew I was safe with the Moreau’s. They even texted me to ask what I would like for lunch; no, “Michela’s carpet” was not my answer.

“You going to get sexy and nakie?” Jenny teased me.
“Actually, yes and I am. We’re shooting six scenes today,” I smiled back at her.
“I’m not going to judge you,” the happy girl smiled, “I won’t come with you though.”
“You can if you’d like, but I don’t think p-rn production is your thing.”
“Well, if you’re asking, I believe it’s a terrible and sinful thing that you’re doing.”
“Jenny,” Kendra groaned, “We have enough experience with cops holding all the cards.”

Jenny looked at us blankly. She was so sweet and innocent that she forgot we were criminals in the past. She paused in thought for about 10 seconds before she realized what Kendra meant. It was unusual for Jenny to be the “dumb blonde” for anything more than half a second, but she is still so blissfully innocent to this day.

——————————————————————————————

THE MUDVILLE TIMES, November 27, 2012
DRUG DEALING TEENAGERS CAUGHT
Hannah Larsson, 16, made a deal with the wrong client yesterday. An undercover officer arrested Larsson, whom police say was a key link in one of many local drug rings. Larsson, a student at Mudville High School, was charged with felony possession of a controlled substance with bail set at $10,000.

Wendy Martin, 15, was arrested as part of the wide-reaching sting. Martin is linked to Larsson and the same ring of dealers. She was charged with felony possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute with bail set at $20,000.

Earlier in the day, Kendra Kristensen, 17, was arrested in a scene that shut down Mudville High School for an hour. She was charged with felony possession of a controlled substance with bail set at $7,000.

Interlude 023: Kendra's Busted
Monday, November 26, 2012

The young girl looked left and then right before entering her mother's purse. $27 cash. That and the $53 she got from her father's wallet was enough. She knew she couldn't do this anymore, but she likewise didn't know that she'd already been caught and sold out to the cops. Her phone had been tapped after her parents figured out what she was doing.

Kendra wasn't loved anyway. Her older sister was human perfection: she was athletic and smart. Her younger sister was human perfection: she was artsy and exploited it for money. Kendra was good at sports, but not good enough for scholarships. She had a great alto voice, but not good enough for scholarships. She could draw very well, but not well enough to get commissioned requests. Desperate for an escape from her life, Kendra turned to something horrible: sugar, C, coke, blow, cocaine. The good stuff. She started with pills, but she wanted something that acted stronger and in shorter bursts. I became her supplier.

“Kendra Kristensen?” a man calmly asked her suddenly during World History.
“Who are you?” she responded quite snippily before seeing 4 armed cops.
“We're from the sheriff’s office, and you're under arrest for felony possession of a controlled substance.”
“Well, this sucks… Take me away.”

Kendra didn't cry when they cuffed her. She remained strong and knew to be respectful. She didn't want to be a drug addict, but she was one. Now, she was on her way to the police station and then to juvenile detention. Just like all of us, she went through the awful process: stripped, cavity searched, ordered to put on a jumpsuit, and photographed with her hair down. She was assigned a badge and a bed…

“What's her name and number?” they asked her at the police station.
“I won't tell you!”
“How would you like to go to Shakopee and get sodomized? Or six months in Mudville and 18 of probation. Felony either way.”
“You have all the cards. Promise me you will send them both to Mudville too.”
Silence
“Either you’ll charge them as minors and send them to Mudville, or I won't help you!!”
“OK,” they were surprised this teen played hardball better than they did, “You got our word.”
“Their names are Hannah Larsson and Wendy Martin. Here’s Hannah’s burner number.”

Kendra Kristensen, Prison JF11120286, F04



——————————————————————————————

“Hannah,” Kendra hugged me when we were on the front stairs, “Thanks for being my friend.”
“Why now?” I asked while returning the embrace, “You, hugging me?”
“Not in front of Jenny. Tough girls like me save the soft stuff for private moments.”
“I’m glad you’re my friend,” I tighten my grip, “We did it. We won. We beat the past.”
“I know. That’s why I’m hugging you. I just realized that we did it. Together.”
“The others don’t get us.”
“Now, I’m going to tie you up thrice and make you smell my shoes each time.”
“Unless Marcy ties me up like she said she would! You have a foot fetish?”
“I’m kinky, but my kink is because I’m a Kristensen,” and for once Kendra’s eyes sparkled.

We all knew Kendra had a foot fetish. She liked making people smell her feet and shoes more than any of us, and she even there on the stairs hinted that, despite not liking bondage, had tied up Mary-Ann and/or Ashley, when asked to do so, and forced them to smell and maybe even lick her feet. As long as the foot went straight into a sock after a recent shower, I was game even if I knew I’d not like it. I hope she didn't do that to Ashley though!

She then began to tell me about how differently she felt about her life since she started attending masses with Mary-Ann and Ashley on a more regular basis. She even said there was a guy about her own age who attended the masses and whom she thought was handsome. Again, those sweet brown eyes sparkled as she spoke. Her wish came true, and today she has four children with one Mr. Ross Gentry.

“Oh, kids, get in here!” Marcy waved us up, “Come on! I made us a pot of coffee!”
“Bye,” Kendra took off running in true Kristensen fashion, bounding up the steps.
“Get back here!” I laughed as I followed behind her, “Kendra Penelope, you are so silly!”
“Hi, Marcy!” Kendra bounced into the house like I’d never seen before.
“What’s into you?” the calm Mrs. Moreau asked her.
“I’m finally happy with life,” said the small but cheerful girl, “Back to the tough girl routine.”
“She hit the Dunkin’, didn’t she?” Steve deadpanned at a distance.
“Of course she did! I went with her. And she already drank two cups from the pot you made.”
“She did that last weekend and was a spaz the entire shoot. Gosh, we enjoy having you girls!”

——————————————————————————————

THE MUDVILLE TIMES, December 4, 2012
TEENAGERS SENTENCED
Wendy Martin, 15, received a swift sentence for a count of felony possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute. Judge Thurman sentenced her to 3 years in Mudville Juvenile Detention. Immediately after, Kendra Kristensen, 17, as part of a plea bargain was sentenced to 6 months in the same facility with 18 months house arrest, with the potential for a reduction in the latter with good behavior. Both were charged as felons.

Related to the case, another “client” of the same group, Stacy Langsford, 16, was also arrested and charged with felony possession of a controlled substance. Her bail was set at $5,000.

There are delays in the case of Hannah Larsson, 16, who was charged with felony possession of a controlled substance. The prosecution is uncertain whether to proceed with a trial as a minor or an adult, but recent developments suggest the former.

Interlude 024: Kendra's Inside
Monday, December 3, 2012

“I plead guilty, your honor.”
“Thank you, Miss Kristensen. I sentence you to 6 more months here in Mudville, and 18 of probation. You will be a felon for life, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. This session is adjourned.”

Kendra's childhood came to an end, and for the first and last time she cried in juvenile detention after the guards returned her to the classroom. She looked at me with sadness, and it wouldn't be until two more years passed that I’d know what she'd done for me. Kendra changed that day in a series of small ways. It was her realization that life was short and that she was acting out against her parents’ abusive treatment, and it would be a long time before she escaped it.

——————————————————————————————

“How does this look?” I groaned, trying on my third outfit for Kendra to approve.
“Positively whorish,” she cackled as I trudged back to get another, “No, get back here!”
“You said it was whorish!”
“That’s a good thing, Hannah!” she then turned on the baby talk, “Did I huwt youh feewings?”
“Oh, stop it!” I playfully pushed her, “Quit messing with my heartstrings like that.”
“Gah ha ha!” that infectious cackle rang out, “Hannah Bandana, you are something else!”
“Shall we go to the garage, finally?” I said when I stopped laughing, “Do scene #1?”
“After you, my sexy friend, and ready yourself for the agony of de feet, dese feet!”
“Kenny, I mean this for real, between us. Do you really have a thing for feet?”
“I tied you before,” she smiled brightly at me and blushed, “Yes, I really like feet but not TUGs.”

LIGHTS. CAMERA. ACTION.

It was my turn to be the scrumptious cheesecake to kick off a scene, and scrumptious I am. I was wearing black thigh-high stockings, black heels, a black-and-red plaid miniskirt, and a white tank top. My hair was up in a ponytail. Sheesh, I just realized that two of the models I’ve been using have nice big brown eyes. Well, that sucks. Too late anyway. They work otherwise, so no use turning back! I took a seat with my back to some cabinets.

Aren’t I so pretty? I show off my mischievous side, the side that visits Jenny just to tie her up or plays a game with Michela, starts clean, and then opens her shirt without warning. I love this job on so many levels, and I hope you can see it. Maybe some of us girls, like Kendra and Kristine, do not personally enjoy bondage, but those girls still enjoy the work mostly for the company.

My ankles are tied to the chair, and my thighs are tied together. My wrists are tied together and to my thighs in front of me. Another cheeky face follows before Marcy kneels in front of me and begins applying strips of red duct tape to my face as a gag. She makes sure each of them is flat against my face. Three strips appears to be the magic number today; it’ll keep me in place for a multitude of photos as long as I’m not too naughty.

“Don’t pull the strips off or else,” she threatens me, and I nod in understanding.

Then she chained my neck to the cabinet above my head! Marcy, how could you?! That left me to struggle against a little bit of rope and look scared for the camera. It was going to be a lot of fun working with Marcy. As I struggled, my shirt slowly fell down. Soon, Marcy returned with a little tease: the keys to the lock on the chain. She taunted me a little by putting the keys right between my tits.

“See if you can get them.”

I struggle a little and squeal at this rude development. Of course, she told me in advance that this would happen, but it was still mean! After looking pitiful for some shots, I slowly tried to reach for the keys, but it only resulted in me holding keys that I couldn’t use and pulling my own shirt down. Yes, it was tits out, my friends! A few more pictures of me squirming and wailing ended the photo shoot, but the film…



“Hiiiii!” Kendra showed up in her personal clothes.
“Mmmmm!” I grunted at the girl with the bright green kerchief.
“Listen, b-tch!” she grabbed me by the tits, “You owe me money and can’t pay, so you’re paying me like this, got it!?”
“NOOOO!” I wailed and shook my head.
“Well, too bad!” she lightly slapped me, “I made up my mind, unlike you! Now pay!”
“YOW!” she put clothespins on my nipples!

Then Kendra took off one of my heels and pushed it against my face. God only knows how many girls had worn these heels over the years, but it didn’t smell good. She taunted me while I could do nothing to defend myself. She certainly was a Gangsta at heart even if she wasn’t a bondage Gangsta. I tried to turn away, but I also knew I could dump the chair and seriously hurt myself if I struggled too much.

“You like that? Hmmmm?!” the foot fetish girl teased me some more.
“Nuh uh!” I shook my head clearly.
“I knew you’d like it!” she cackled, “You sick f-cks that don’t pay are always weirdos!”
“MMMM MMM MMMMMMMM!” I struggled mightily.
“Oh!” she sniffed the heel herself, “It’s not that bad!” then muttered, “Candyass crybaby.”
“H-ck -ou!” I yelled at her, “-ou’re -he thihho!”
“Now, listen here,” she grabbed my ponytail, “I’ll have you know that I’m quite normal…”
“That’s great,” Steve grinned, “Your friendship really translates into the films. Untie her.”
“With pleasure!”

With that command, Kendra gladly freed me, and I left to go pick my next outfit. Marcy came with me to help me pick something that would look nice.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 025: Kendra's Outside
Friday, May 31, 2013

“You b-tch!” Mr. Kristensen grabbed Kendra by the hair.
“Owww! Dad, no!” she cried out as she was shoved into the backseat of the car.
“You're useless! Get home, and get a job!”
“Dad, I’m sorry for what I did!” Kendra wailed.
“You always were a liar, and always will be!”
“I mean it Dad,” she was crying now.
“Bullsh-t. You're a common coke wh-re!”

Kendra's fear of a cage almost came true in the opposite sense: they took the lock off her bedroom door. It was the beginning of 21 months of unbearable suffering… Poor Kendra was beaten, even by her sisters, and she abused other things to alleviate the suffering: Benadryl was the most common choice. She’d take a dose so she’d get knocked out and sleep it all off until her next time being kicked or punched. Even at the dinner she was frequently told to get lost altogether or not allowed to eat seconds.

——————————————————————————————

For the next scene, I graduated from thigh-highs to full-length stockings, also black and with lace to make them even sexier. She had me put on this weird underwear thing that was panties and a bra in one piece. Man, was it weird. I have no clue what it was. Open toed black heels were the finishing touch to this horror.

Again, Marcy bound me, but now my ankles, thighs, wrists, and elbows were all tied together. I had my arms tied behind me this time, and we took a photo me acting like I was trying to snap it like a zip tie. A simple white bandana cleave gagged me, but then Marcy put me in a strappado with a rope from my wrists to a drawer handle they drilled into the top of the cabinetry!

“MMMMMMMMMMMM!”

I was really in trouble for this one, and we hadn’t gotten close to the film part yet. I knew before it happened that spanking had to be in my future. No way would Marcy tie me like this without a good walloping from Kendra being in my future. Of course, that sounded heavenly to me. I took a good look around myself and at my bonds while Steve snapped photo after photo. I bent over so that he could get a really good view of my arms taut in the strappado.

Sure enough, Marcy returned and warned me to behave while she checked my bonds, but a burst of gag talk profanity earned me several spanks on the rear, just like I expected. After a few shots of me grimacing, I was exposed. Yes, once again, it was tits out, my friends. Can you tell it’s my favorite part of a scene?

I tottered because of the heels. I was no expert in standing in one place with heels for so long; a bit of relief came to me though when Marcy undid the elbows ropes, taking a lot of pressure off my arms. I stood up more confidently and squealed a lot for the camera, but once again it was that wonderful time for Kendra to do her duty.



——————————————————————————————

Interlude 026: Kendra's Freedom
Monday, February 9, 2015

“Mary!” Kendra kissed her friend through the open window, “You came!”
“Shush!” Mary-Ann passed the suitcase into the house, “Move. Quickly and quietly.”

Kendra quietly opened her drawers and pulled all the clothes out of them. Everything. Summer clothes and winter clothes alike, pajamas, underwear, coats, and socks fit in the one suitcase, to the dismay of Mary-Ann. She hopped out the window and didn't even bother to shut the window behind her. She had removed the SIM card from her phone as well. She had nothing else except what she wore. As the clock struck 1:37 AM, Kendra Kristensen left it all behind forever. Never again would she see her childhood home.

“How does liberation feel?”
“The best part is that I have no ankle monitor! Thank you, Mary!” Kendra smiled.
“BFFs, right?” the driver winked at her passenger.
“Definitely BFFs. You are just the best,” a sparkle glistened in her eyes.
“And soon you'll be sleeping in a bed with all the blankets you want.”
“Well, we still have to get me a bed.”
“Yeah, but I have a full bed. We'll be fine!” Mary took her friend's hand, “I’ll no longer have to worry about you.”

Mary-Ann kept her promise, giving Kendra all the blankets she wanted. They would continue to share the bed for another three days, but they didn't care. Kendra was free and happy.

——————————————————————————————

“Look at you having all the fun without me,” Kendra held a roll of pink duct tape.
“NOOOO!” I said quite clearly before the tape approached my face, “Don’h do ih!”
“Sorry,” she cranked it tightly too, “I’m not letting you stop me!”
“GMMMMMM!” my voice was taken from me in spectacular fashion.
“Nighty night!” she blindfolded me with a red bandana.
“No no nooooo!” I quietly wailed and then squealed.

Then came the spanking. Kendra was good at this from her work with Nabber Cellar and Tommy Trusser. Damn, did that hurt so badly! She was showing absolutely no mercy on me with this whacking. It was hard, and it was real! I knew Kendra loved me, but what was the best part was seeing her so comfortable and relaxing instead of being uptight like when there are other girls around besides me, Marcy, or Mary-Ann.

I kept wailing while Kendra grimaced at me like she really was punishing me for something bad that I’d done. Her brown eyes glowed with happiness, though. She had the same sparkle as her cousin Jenny but with a different eye color. It was work requiring our best, but she was enjoying the company. After 3 more minutes of verbal abuse and spanking, Steve ended the scene.

“How are you feeling? Need a break?” Steve asked me.
“Just a snack break. Anything small will do,” I smiled as I sat down and took a deep breath.
“Would a Pepperidge Farm cookie hit the spot?” Marcy asked me.
“That’d be perfect. I haven’t had a store bought cookie in ages. My girlfriend and her sister are always making sure there’s something around the house.”
“Do you think Michela would ever be able to work without you?” Marcy sat down next to me.
“Maybe someday, but not as of now. She’d be too scared of Steve.”
“Him?” she pointed to the big man with a horseshoe mustache and sideburns, “He doesn’t bite.”
“No, but her father used to tie her up and violently assault her.”
“Ohhhh… Lordy,” her face wanned, “No wonder she’s such a lovable girl but a hot mess.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 027: Kendra's Blankets
Tuesday, February 10, 2015

“Marrrryyyyyyy!” Kendra’s sweet voice filled the air.
“Yes, Kendra?” Mary-Ann entered the room.

Kenny was already in bed, under the sheets, and under the bed spread. There was already a large quilt on the bed, made for Mary-Ann by her aunt. The long blonde hair was around the smaller girl’s head, having been freed from its typical bun. A large smile was on the girl’s face.

“I know you keep the heat low to save. May I have another blanket or two? I’m collldddd.”
“Sure thing, bestie,” Mary-Ann smiled, “I’ll put one on the bed and give you another in case.”
“Thanks, Mary,” Kendra smiled back and soon had her warm blankets while Mary read a book from the library.
“You OK?” the brunette asked her blonde friend after hearing a strange sound.
“Ummmmm,” came back with the choking sound of tears, “Sure, sure, I’m fine.”
“Kendra, you’re crying. Why?”
“I was remembering back when things were good… back when my family loved me.”
“I wish I knew what it was like to have had parental love at any point of my life.”

And together, they cried a little, but then they reveled in the joy that their post-prison friendships had brought them so much that they fell asleep hugging and smiling.

——————————————————————————————

“One more scene and then lunch!” I smiled.

For this one, regular brown full length hose was in order with different black open toed heels, but this tank top was pink. I smiled and went to take my seat in the same old chair, but things went horribly wrong. We had discussed tying my hands overhead, but handcuffs were not mentioned at any point. Marcy innocently cuffed my hands in front of me, and I lost my cool.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but this isn’t going to work!” my heart started racing.
“Whoa!” Kendra knew instantly that I was triggered, “Calm down, babe. Hold your horses.”
“Kendra, hug me, please!” I whined quite pitifully.
“Hannah!” Marcy was ready to act on a moment’s notice, “What’s wrong?!”
“Mr. Reardon, a prison guard,” Kendra hugged me spoke for me, “He and his goons r-ped us.”
“Should we move on?”
“No, no… I just need… to get myself in the right mindset,” I assured them, “Kendra, don’t let go until I’m ready.”
“Hannah, remember you and Michela with the ball gag a few months ago? It’s not bad bondage but a bad man.”

The Moreau’s heard more horrors from us girls over the years, and I knew just the thing I needed to be able to get through this scene. With that, I made a special request for Kendra’s socks to be a part of my gag, and Steve and Marcy readily accommodate my needs. I felt bad for them since I ruined multiple shoots with my problems and neuroses.

Ropes now bound my legs in three places with my wrists cuffed to that same handle. This was a bondage more in my style, and I couldn’t wait to see what Kendra did next to torture me while I was unable to resist. Into my mouth went Kenny’s yummy socks for a horrible stew, and then a stretchy medical bandage was wrapped around my head for a thick cleave gag, jamming Kenny’s sock deep into my mouth.

The photoshoot portion was simple. I sat there and let Steve take photos of me facing forward and moved a little bit for each picture. Then I contorted myself a little bit before turning myself sideways on the chair. Marcy made sure I was all right, and Steve took some overhead shots of me from all sides while I also moved my legs as much as I dared. This was the first truly simple shoot, but there was the Kendra factor.

“What the heck?! What happened?!”
“Mmm mm mmm mmm mm huh gmm mm mmmm mm mm mmmmm!” I spoke unintelligibly.
“A strange woman in a white shirt, blue jeans, and red heels did this to you?”
“Mmm hmm!” I nodded in agreement.
“Sounds strange. You’re fantasizing or hallucinating,” Kendra laughed at me.
“MM MMMMM!” I noticed Marcy coming behind her with a fake gun.
“Hands in the air!” she puts the gun against Kendra’s back, “Come with me, Missy!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kendra surrenders and does what is required of her.



Just like that, we’ve done 3 out of 6 scheduled scenes for the day, and now lunch is upon us. As was promised, though, lunch is being provided for us for our hard work. The delivery driver for the pizza has just arrived, so it’s the perfect time for us to rest and relax and enjoy ourselves after a morning of work and a tiny bit of stress.

Bring on the afternoon and more of Gangsta Kendra!

——————————————————————————————

Which will Kendra do to the hogtied and ball gagged Hannah?

(A) Force Hannah to sniff her feet
(B) Put Hannah in a hair tie as well
(C) Cover Hannah’s head in vet wrap

Quite the amazing Tale!

A

Keep it up!! I vote C!!

Chapter 007: For Ashley - Tied After Class Part 2
Saturday, May 23, 2015

I sat down at the table, now back in my own clothes since I wasn't going to sit down to eat with the Moreau's while in my birthday suit despite having just filmed a scene in, well, my birthday suit. It was just crass. This wasn't a nature colony; this was someone's house. Kendra liked my approach to the shooting schedule, and she smiled a lot while we sat and ate the pizza.

“You were into bondage before you came here?” Steve asked me.
“Yeah, Kendra's cousin, me, and a couple of others formed our own little club in high school, and we just got to bondage because I jokingly suggested doing bondage escape challenges to test new members.”
“That's not how we met,” Kendra was clear about that, “But you know the stories.”
“No wonder you're good. You’ve experienced some mock kidnappings,” he nodded.
“Heh,” I took a bite of pizza, “I don't know about that.”
“How would you two like steady work? Regularly being on call to do either side of a scene?”
“Hell, yeah!” Kendra jumped at that, “This is my only source of income, doing these local jobs.”
“Thank you so much!” my eyes brightened, “I’d love it, but what about Michela?”
“Michela is a bit emotionally unstable; I’m going to wait before going there with her,” he said.
“Oh,” my heart sank, “I understand why you would say that.”

Michela had lots of problems, like being unable to appear in a scene with Steve. There was just no way; she had to have a girl be her rigger. I didn't like it myself, but I was learning mostly out of necessity. I didn't want to be a slave of my past, but Michela couldn't learn though. You can't just erase her memories of the past.

I turned to my short friend in the bright green bandana. Obvious contentment was written on her face. She was always doing things her way, and finally “her way” was the “right way”. It was a long time ago that we met, that I became her supplier of drugs to escape her emotions. Now I’m a supplier of friendship to bring her happiness.

“That was so good,” I smiled, “Thank you so much, Steve, Marcy. You’re so nice.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 028: Kendra's Supplier
Saturday, September 22, 2012

“You Mama G?” the small blonde girl sits down next to me in the park.
“Maybe,” I stare at a big, beautiful bush with yellow and pink roses, “Who sent you?”
“Stacy Langsford told me about you. Said you can sweeten up my life.”
“That I can do. For $40, you’ll be happy for a week. For $80, you can have a party.”
“I got $10 because I ain’t sure I’ll like it,” Kendra said with despair, “Better than life though.”
“$10? I can front you that much,” I took out a little baggie, “Here you go.”

Kendra took the bag and looked at it with horror. How had her life reached this level of misery? She was using illegal drugs now in her desperate attempt to escape her life. Worse, I was the evil presence that fed the habit; if Kendra someday died from this, her blood was on my head. I only thought about myself though. I was a disgusting piece of work.

“When you call,” I explain, “Use the code ‘sea cucumber,’ and we'll talk in code. Got it?”
“I follow you. Thanks,” she stood up and walked without looking back at me.
“If I get caught, I hope I don't have that sh-t on me,” I grumbled and walked in another direction.

——————————————————————————————

“You want me to wear that?!” I was unimpressed by the shiny minimalist underwear, “I’ll do it.”
“It’s about making Steve get hard enough that I can get something out of him after you’re gone.”
“Now that’s not funny,” I giggle and start taking off my clothes, “But then again I’m laughing.”
“Whatever sells, Hannah. Whatever sells.”
“No problem,” I loudly snapped the rubbery bra against my tits.
“Having fun over there?” Marcy’s smile was so sweet that I couldn’t believe she was a rigger.

The laundry room was an interesting choice of location for me to get photographed in bondage. I just went along with it, though, and let Marcy bind me. Elbow bondage is always so awesome; it is my favorite thing. The familiar clothesline tied my wrists, ankles, and thighs, and the harness she tied was also nice and tight. It was just the way I liked things. A bandana was stuffed into my mouth before a scrap of white fabric cleave gagged me.

Now I just had to do my thing and pose for some photos. This was as simple as a shoot had ever been for me. I showed off my arms a little, squirmed in my bondage, and gave Kendra a bunch of laughs by occasionally moaning for entertainment. Alas, it didn’t take long for Marcy to join the party again, check my bonds, and wrap my head and neck in a medical bandage to double the gag, blindfold me, and even wrap my neck. Then it was tits out, my friends.

Now, when Steve said “look this way” or “do this” I had to do it blindly or have Kendra help me into the right position because I couldn’t see. It was so exhilarating though being blindfolded for a scene for once. I had no idea what kinds of shots he was taking or what he was looking for me to do; I blindly trusted him and Kendra. It was fun holding my legs in the air for him though. It was also fun because Marcy had really tied me tightly for this one; I couldn’t escape the bondage in anything under 25 minutes. They wanted me to be helpless for this one, and that made me one happy damsel, nay hottie, in distress!

“Are you in trouble?” Kendra pinched a tit.
“Yow! -et -e -e!”
“I will,” Kendra teased me, “There’s no video with this.”
“Mmph!” I groaned at her cruelty, and she started untying me.
“Hannah, your friendship,” she whispered in my ear, “Makes me believe in God a little more.”
“Hmmmmm,” I thought about that seriously; Michela was doing the same to me.
“It’s easier for me; I was raised religious.”

The first scene of the afternoon was already complete. It was time to get even skimpier.



——————————————————————————————

Interlude 029: Kendra’s Friends
Thursday, December 6, 2012

“Ha ha ha! Mary, you are a funny girl!” Kendra cackled loudly.
“I don't know what I even said,” Mary-Ann blushed a little bit.
“It doesn't matter; you help me forget I’m in a jumpsuit.”
“You know it's two pieces and technically not a jumpsuit, right?” Michela turned to them.
“Just because you're almost a foot taller than me doesn't mean I’ll let you push me around.”
“Hmmmm,” Maddy shuffled the cards, “Someone's fortunately a brave girl!”

Kendra rolled her eyes. She could still be b-tchy at times. Let's face it: the b-tchiness is a false front that keeps people from getting too close and hurting her. She had her own fears despite the seeming bravery she displayed; the defiance was real though. Her attitude frequently kept her from being a IV, but she knew she needed to work on that.

Card games were when Kendra shined the most. All she needed to have fun was her spunkiness and her ability to take what she dished out. She had a sharp tongue with an insult always locked and loaded and ready to fire. She was hardly sweet, but there was a lot to like even then. It was she who first implored me to cut my ties with Greg; while I regret not listening I likely would not have become a bondage model otherwise!

——————————————————————————————

“Pick out some underwear,” Marcy motioned to the wardrobe, “Something skimpy.”
“How about these?” I held up minimalist even less protecting black panties and a bra.
“That would look so good on you!” Kendra said from behind me, “You’ll be gorgeous!”
“She’s right. Go for it. You’re going to wooden half of our members like that,” Marcy joked.
“Great!” I stripped the purple rubber off me and began putting the black cotton on me instead.
“Hannah, I’m glad we ditched the balls and chains and got to enjoy today by ourselves.”
“Is she this warm and cozy when she’s here with just Mary?”
“Yes,” Marcy responded without a thought, “She’s only comfortable with you and Mary solo.”
“Kendra, would you do the rigging for this one?” I asked while putting on some brown hose.

With a smile, little Kendra took my hand and led me away. She didn’t like bondage, but inside she loved people just like her cousin Jenny loved them. I was comfortable with her by my side, and I couldn’t come here solo quite yet. While I trusted Steve and Marcy, it was scary being in bondage with no friend nearby even if the friend was also tied up. Out we went to the back step.

More sweet elbow bondage for me! Wrists and elbows were in tight bondage. Kendra changed it up a little by making the three standard leg bonds be duct tape instead of rope, and my gag was her socks from before once again! Blech! Wet socks, now wrapped in a blue bandana, went into my mouth, and strips of duct tape sealed it up.

Again, it was a small set of photos for this one. I started on my knees, wailing and shrieking into Kendra’s socks as if I would actually get help in that way. I fell back onto my butt and posed for a few shots that showed off my butt. I sat down and did the usual “leaning forward” to Steve’s utmost satisfaction; he had two cameras set up for this part.



“Don’t worry, cutie,” the film started with Kendra squeezing my cheek.
“Mmmmm!” I looked at her with determination to get away.
“You’re screwed missy,” she knocked on the door, “Enjoy slavery.”
“Mmmmph!” Marcy opened the door and wrapped an arm around my neck.
“Ah, another b-tch to sell. That girl does good work,” she started dragging me into the house.
“AH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” I pretended to be losing my mind over things before the door shut.

We were having too much fun now!

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 030: Kendra's Suffering
Saturday, January 17, 2015

“There you go, Pa. $200,” Kendra handed her father some money; Maddy had the rest.
“Where do you get this cash?” he snarled, “You're selling drugs now, aren't you?”
“It's fair that you know. That cash is more legal than yours. I pose for a fetish photographer.”
“You pose for who?!”
“A man and his wife tie me up and gag me, take photos and videos of me, and sell them online.”
“From a coke whore to an ordinary whore!”
“Pa, it's honest money!” she shrieked when he grabbed her by the hair, “Ow! Pa, don't!”

Pa didn't listen because Pa didn't care about his middle daughter even a little bit. He ordered her to stand facing the wall until he told her she didn't have to do so anymore. After time, her legs grew sore from it, and she started shifting from one leg to another. When she was caught, one of her parents would strike her. When she squatted, she was pulled up by her hair. They forced her to stand while the rest ate dinner without her.

When the ordeal was done, Kendra did what she always had done, turned to drugs, for the final time in her life. A double dose of Benadryl would put her to sleep quickly. As she felt the drugs slowly making her sleepy, Kendra resolved to never misuse a drug ever again. Slowly, she fell asleep and dreamed of being free from this suffering alongside her friends from Pod F.

——————————————————————————————

One last scene meant one more pair of underwear… and this time no bra! Yes, indeed, my tits were out before the camera was even on me! This time it was a hogtie for me. More elbow ties for me! Yay! Yes, I loved elbow bondage as much then as I do now. The usual three leg ties, a hogtie, and the matte red ball gag. It was a scrumptious scene indeed.

I just adjusted the angle of my head for Steve to take photos, and for my own entertainment I tried to push the ball gag out of my mouth. I wailed and tried, and when he zoomed out I started to rock toward my left side. The cardboard under me separated me from the filth of the garage. I was, once again, tightly tied and helpless and loving it.



Now was Kendra’s time to shine… and for our friendship to be on display.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 031: Kendra's Happiness
Friday, February 13, 2015

Kendra's phone rang. It was an unknown number. She feared unknown numbers because she's been inside. She knows cops use burner phones just like dealers do, and she thought this was a former supplier or drug buddy of hers. With trepidation, she answered the phone with a faked, deep “Hello.”

“Kendra!” Cousin Jenny's bounce could be heard through the phone.
“Hey!” the brown eyes lit up, “It's nice to hear from you.”
“I heard you moved out. Is everything OK?”
“It's great, actually, and,” Kendra made a big decision, “Tomorrow, I’m getting a new number.”
“Yay! That'll be a good idea! Then you cut off the bad people!” Jenny was a true cheerleader.
“Exactly. What would you like to hear about? Juvie stories? My friends? My roommate? My kinky job?”

Mary-Ann looked up from her book to see the smile on her roommate's face. Kendra was happy, which meant Mary-Ann had succeeded. She knew this was the start of a special friendship, one that would go beyond friendship, to sisterhood of a different kind. It was the road that led them to someday name children after each other.

——————————————————————————————

“Sniff,” Kendra said and pointed to her foot, “Either voluntarily or involuntarily.”

I stared at her like she was crazy. She was dead serious. She really did have a foot fetish. With a bit of curiosity, I began sniffing her foot. I am a naughty, damaged, kinky girl, deranged in so many ways because of my past, and my love of dirty laundry prevails. If the stinky sock brings me so much delight, why wouldn't the foot? I mischievously looked at Kenny. Discoveries like this, with a friend, are easier to handle. If I noticed this in bed with Michela, I’d have a nervous breakdown wondering what more was wrong with me.

I never pictured myself as a foot worshiper, but in an already aroused state it worked just fine by me. At least this time I was only sniffing it, but she had been on her feet all day long. It was an interesting experience for sure, and I knew Kenny was enjoying herself. It had been a good day on the job, but we weren't done yet.

“You need some time alone,” she approached me with a medical bandage.
“Nmmmmm!” I tried in vain to push the ball gag out of my mouth.
“That's it, my dear,” she wrapped the bandage around my mouth first.
“Mmmmmm!” I watched it then wrap my eyes as well.
“Good night, my dear. Let's see you escape this,” she knotted the bandage shut.
“Mmm mmm mmmmm!” vainly squirming in my hogtie had to make decent entertainment.

Kenny was… massaging my feet? What a funny girl! Yes, she was massaging my feet while the camera was rolling. Yes, Kendra had a love of feet that she was exploring with me, and frankly I was complimented that my feet were the ones she chose for exploring her fetish. She is odd, but I love her oddness. What a friend I have in Kendra Penelope Kristensen.

“Hannah, one thing,” Kendra said before we got into the car to go home.
“Sure. What is it?”
“This,” she jumped me for a hug,, “Just the girl I needed to spend a day with.”

But in true Kendra fashion, she wouldn’t tell me what that meant.

——————————————————————————————

Just sit back and enjoy the action in the next chapter.

Sit back and enjoy one of your stories? I can do that all day!!

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, @LunaDog

Chapter 008: Coffee, Doughnuts, and Bowling
Sunday, May 31, 2015

Whenever I go meet Kendra, I know it's truly a good time as opposed to the kinds of good times for which I gave her supplies when we were in high school. Yeah, I made sure Kendra got her C and Greg got his money. A small girl, 17, unwanted and abused, turned to pure driven snow for an escape from the hell that was her life.

When I entered the coffee shop, I looked around for a brightly colored bandana. Genghis Khan was obvious for his stature, and so was Kendra Penelope Kristensen. Aha! There was the bright green kerchief. Kendra, much like her cousin Jenny, always had a bandana, but, unlike Jenny, it was usually bright. It made her stand out in a crowd, and that was motive enough for her. There was, in fact, company with her, a girl slightly taller than me and known as Kylie Svensson.

“Hey, Special K,” I walked over to them, “Nice to see you, Ky.”
“Very funny,” Kendra rolled her eyes, “Mary Jane.”
“Are you two making drug jokes?” Kylie grimaced, “Damn, you two are cold.”
“We can live with our mistakes despite the consequences of them,” I was candid with her.
“Yeah, Kylie didn't deserve what happened to her, especially with… him.”
“Can we not talk about him? When I got home, finally, the third day I broke down and told them all what had happened and then cried for 45 minutes straight.”
“I'm sorry,” I offered her my hand.
“It's not a joke. I can't ever have kids. He wrecked me so badly. When I was kid, I only wanted to be a stay-at-home mom just like mine. He ruined me… and I’ve told no one but my parents and siblings. My dream died.”

That was a bombshell. I always dreamt of being a mother but not a stay-at-home mom, but that had to be brutal. Michela had likely been sterilized by her father's sexual abuse, but no one knew that Mr. Reardon had wrecked Kylie that badly. No wonder the poor thing attempted su¡c¡de in prison. Her life was ruined, and even then she knew it.

Kylie mindlessly took a bite out of a chocolate doughnut. Yes, she's the chocolate girl among all of us. She even has a white chocolate flavored coffee in her hand. Like Michela and I, when she is unable to function, Kylie becomes vacant. With Kylie, it's scarier, though, because she hurts herself when the anxiety gets out of control.

Along her arms were scabs and bandages from her nervously picking at herself. We could hardly get through a day this spring without her ripping herself at least once. It was always mindless or accompanied by tears to make things worse. Kylie was messed up badly, and she stared, with us holding our silence. Finally, she smiled.

“I’m glad I have my Pod F friends,” she took a bite of her doughnut.
“That's the spirit,” Kendra bit one of her beloved cinnamon powdered doughnuts.
“Yummy, jelly!” I took a bite of mine, “So, what's the plan?”
“The plan? Oh, to complete RCIA and formally become Catholic,” Kendra shrugged.
“I mean for us now!” I laughed at her humor, “How far you've come.”
“Mary has been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 032: Kylie's Depression

When Mr. Reardon’s gang started hurting Kylie, it didn’t just ruin her physically. They ruined her mentally. She truly was a good girl who made a foolish choice, unlike Kendra and I who had it coming for a long time. She was distraught by the separation from her family, but the visits, in her case, really had been enough to keep her spirits up to face the reality of her poor decision.

Her mental health took a nosedive the day she lost her virginity. She was completely cognizant of what had been done to her, and each successive attack broke her a little bit more. Reardon and his cronies knew just how frequently they could “be suspicious” of any given inmate without the other workers realizing what was happening. The girls on the south side of the prison, Pods E, F, G, and H, were usually long term girls, so they had time to size them up and break their will. It only went on so long because each girl they chose to attack hadn’t been released yet. Threats of the horror of being transferred to Shakopee, to the women’s prison, kept the victims silent.

One day, Kylie said she was going to her cell. From her arrival, she had been Michela’s cellmate as prisoner F09; she was I before I arrived. That night, she never went to her cell. Instead, she leapt over the railing in an attempt to take her own life. She’d gone from the strongest girl in the pod to the weakest of all. To our blessing, Kylie only broke her tibia and fibula on her right leg, but it was the beginning of a battle that finally ended in 2017, although Kendra’s illness put her in a brief period where we all feared a relapse.

She still struggles with depression. We’ll talk about the bad… and then the good.

——————————————————————————————

Doughnuts, hot coffee, and friendship. For what else could we ask? The Lilliputian Kendra had an indomitable spirit, and the presence of Kylie perhaps restrained her openness a little bit. Only in private did I really get to see who Kendra was, but she best expressed herself in texts. After so many years of abuse and maltreatment, Kendra developed a good poker face; it also meant she’d restrain herself in a way. It wasn't that she was suppressed like Michela; it was that she expected to get physically assaulted for her brazen honesty.

“Mary, that outfit makes you look like a stork.”
“Look at that guy’s shirt. He belongs in an ‘In Living Color’ sketch.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're being honest, and my father is Andrew Carnegie.”
“Did you know that brown looks like sh-t on you? No? I just found out 15 seconds ago.”
“Mary’s a great dominatrix, but she needs to get out of the kitchen before she torches the God damned place.”
“Michela, quit staring at Hannah like that. You're hornier than a rhinoceros.”

Kendra is still good for a snarky quote like that. She's such a delight as a friend, but nowadays it is rare for us to meet up in person when she has four children all 6 years old and under. Before you ask, she does still want more. She hates childbirth, but it's worth it in her opinion. So many reasons exist to love Kendra.

Kylie is a girl to love too. I don't mean lust at the moment. Kylie is considerate like Michela. I can't speak for others, but she always hand makes my birthday card every year, maybe because we're birthday twins, born in adjoining rooms just 37 minutes apart. She's a precious part of life for me.

She speaks from the heart but knows when to be soft and when to be rough. She knows just the right thing to say at the right time. She's the impenitent heathen of our group, but she's got more moral fiber than some of us. Oh, sure, she might fool around with me and Michela at present or, later, Michela and Ashley, but that's it. Her dirtiness is confined to activities with Pod F, and I’m including her modeling in that statement since she won't go alone. She's devoted to us; really, I mean it when I say she's wonderful. This girl is good for a random quote at weird times.

“Mudville sounds like a name from a cheap girl's novel,” said during a threesome.
“Think I’m horny now? Wait until after we do this scene,” to Maddy during a bondage shoot.
“Which is sexiest in my p-ssy? Dildo, strap-on, or crotch rope?” over coffee and doughnuts.
“That shirt makes every model look fat; it makes some look sexier though,” in front of Steve.
“Minnesota Golden Gopher sounds like a pagan effigy,” while walking through Mall of America.
“Hannah should be CGC pres. She was a real gangster,” in front of the current Club president.

We finally agreed to go bowling. As we walked to the car, Kylie took my hand and kissed me on the cheek in a seductive but not too sexual manner. She was simply giving me a hint of what she was hoping to do with me much later. Sometimes, it was good to be with Kylie in a dirty sense or include her for a threesome. I was the only one who really played outside the Pod F circle, so we had a rotation more or less to ensure STDs, if contracted, at least were contained. Morbid, I know.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 033: Kylie's Trust Issues
Sunday, May 12, 2013

“I hate every male guard and don’t feel safe when I see one,” Kylie admitted.
“What about Mr. Lee?” I pushed her a little.
“Oh, all right, he’s OK. He helped me at least and spoke against Mr. Reardon.”

We had a rotation of guards. Mr. Edmunds, Mr. Hoffman, Mr. Grant, Mr. Lee, Mrs. Anderson, Mrs. Copley, Ms. Werner, and Miss Morris. Four female guards and four male, with one of each on duty at a time. Mr. Grant and Miss Morris were the ones that could be a bit cold-hearted. The rest were lovable, but Kylie developed issues with the male guards, especially Mr. Hoffmann, a man who was tall and red somewhat like Mr. Reardon.

Go to “Guards” to get an idea of how they rotated shifts and who was on which team.



Mr. Lee was the most interesting of the guards. He was the son of Chinese immigrants, served in Operation Desert Storm when he was 20, went to college, spent 15 years as a cop, and then came to work here at Mudville Juvie. He had so many stories, especially of how his family escaped to the United States and his time in Kuwait and Iraq. Of the male guards, he was my favorite, and he said things that helped lead to Mr. Reardon’s dismissal from the prison. Kylie only felt safe in the pod when he was on duty.

“Hannah, what if another one of them hurts me? Even one of the ladies?” she squirmed a bit.
“I can’t guarantee anything, Kylie,” it hurt me to say as much.
“I don’t know…”

——————————————————————————————


Kylie had always been kind of sequestered from us. Kendra and I had snuck away from going to Sunday mass just to comfort Kylie on a quiet morning without any else around us, and now we’d been dropped with the horrible news of her devastation. I let Kendra drive my car to the bowling alley so I could sit in the back with Kylie while she let it out. The life and times of Pod F. To be honest, I was stunned that I could have sex with Greg after my release let alone have a baby. We were here to be Kylie’s support, though. By the time we arrived, she was smiling again. At least all of us (except Ashley) had our driver’s license now.

“Kenny, Hannah, please,” Kylie blushed, “Please don't tell anyone. It's embarrassing for me.”
“Your secret is safe with us,” Kendra put a hand on Kylie's arm, “I’m sorry.”
“Kylie, thank you for trusting us with your greatest sorrow,” I responded.
“I owe you a little one-on-one, don't I?” Kylie winked at me as we approached the alley.
““Shall we play with balls and phallic symbols?” I responded.
“Sure! Just because I can't have children doesn't mean I can't have fun!”
Unlike me and Michela, I thought to myself and quipped, “Yeah, Ash eyes guys at work.”
“She's a good girl for sure,” Kylie smiled at the thought, “Let's go have a good time.”

Bowling… what made it good was that no one but us three could possibly want to do it. Kendra and I could go to a batting cage as long as we're together, and only Kendra and Kylie really like this particular game. I’ll enjoy it for the company, but it's nothing I’d suggest. I’ll even try my best to win for the sake of making the game more fun.

“Kendra, do they make shoes small enough for your feet?” I asked just to hear her retort.
“They make bandanas big enough for your head, and it's easier to make smaller than larger.”
“Oooooohhhhhhhh! She got you so goooodddddddd!” Kylie loudly laughed.
“Yep, she got me,” I looked at Kendra, and she understood I did that just for Kylie.
“I got you a lot the other day, too. Six times, in fact. Don't mess with me, Hannah Larsson!”
“Yeah, I messed with you twice a day for 6 months in fact,” I made a terrible pun.

Kylie burst out laughing so hard that she started the game off with a gutterball. My joke caught her at the perfect moment. The whole sequence of events sparked laughter in all three of us, but the biggest smile was on the dirty blonde, the girl who didn't wear a bandana. Kylie's hair was almost always loose, but occasionally she'd do things, especially put stylish hair clips or even a barrette or two.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 034: Kylie's Newfound Confidence
Wednesday, June 12, 2013

“Let’s hit the gym,” Kylie waved us over during recreation time, “Come on, hotties.”
“Does she mean us?” Michela asked while I left her behind to follow Kylie.
“No, she meant, Mr. Grant! Of course she meant you and me!” I swiped out of the pod.
“Oh, all right!” my girlfriend hastily followed while maintaining a walk and prison stance.
“What’s up?” I asked Kylie while Michela caught up.
“I’ve made up my mind. I want to keep my status. I’m a III and want to stay a III.”
“Where do we come into this?” I was already thinking of potential answers.
“I need you to be my support, to keep my spirits up. I’m on a high and want to keep it.”
“You got it, pal,” I turned on the treadmill, “I’ll stick by you through thick and thin.”

I sure stuck by Kylie… until my own release. Then I disappeared and abandoned her when she got released, just like I was nowhere when Kendra needed me at first. I visited Kylie and all of my other friends, but I kept my personal whereabouts secret enough that no one could find me when they got out. What a selfish pr!ck I was!

During the next months, though, Michela and I fulfilled our promise to Kylie. That day was the beginning of a renewal of spirit and mind for her, just like the one that would begin on May 31, 2015, in a bowling alley that was technically in her own hometown of Prior Lake. Remember the amazing fact that we were born in adjacent rooms just minutes apart? It somehow was a fact that, once we knew it, brought us together in an incredible manner.

——————————————————————————————

“Gutter, gutter, gutter. Tsk tsk,” Kylie sarcastically shook her head at my failure, “You suck.”
“Especially Mick’s junk,” Kendra coldly dropped that insult.
“Dammmmnnnnn. Hannah, you’re baaddddddd.”
“Not as bad as you,” I pointed to the scoreboard that showed 36-97-31 after six frames of our third string. We each paid for one string.

Yeah, we sucked. I was the 36, and Kylie was the 31. Kendra was good at this as it was one of her favorite things to do when hanging out with Mary-Ann or her cousin Jenny. OK, she wasn’t a legend by any means, but she could trounce us bigger girls at will. We were enjoying ourselves without a worry in the world besides our internal battles.

“So, Kendra, is it true that you like tootsies?” Kylie pushed Kendra’s buttons next.
“I hate Tootsie Rolls. The hell are you talking about?”
“You know,” Kylie lifted a leg, “Tootsies.”
“OK, where is everyone hearing this nonsense?!” Kendra stood in perfect prison pose.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe somebody rode b-tch to Marcy Moreau after a shoot yesterday.”
“You went for a motorcycle ride with Marcy yesterday?!”
“Well, Steve picked me up in his ‘Cuda, and Marcy brought me home.”
“Sweeeetttttt,” I, standing similarly to Kendra, flashed a grin at Kylie, “You’re a queen there.”

Kylie accepting a motorcycle ride just seemed so natural to me. I could picture her in a leather jacket without much effort, and my imagination even supplied some leather ankle boots for her as well. I’d freak out and vomit if I rode on one of those, but I could see the gears turning inside Kendra’s mind and picturing it. Yes, Kendra, with cowboy boots, jeans, the jacket, a bandana, and typically defiant gaze; oh, hell, maybe she’d chew a toothpick for show. Nah, skip it.

When we were done bowling, we decided to head back to Kendra’s place. Ashley texted to say that they would be gone a lot longer because so many people wanted to talk to her, and that gave us the entire house to ourselves. To save on costs, Mary-Ann and Kendra shared a bedroom and slept in their own beds still, but it was a tight space. All this was so that Ashley would have her own bedroom just to make the state of Minnesota happy.

“Well, girls, who wants some scrumptious cheeseburgers?” Kendra asked when we walked in.
“Sure, why not?” Kylie smiled, “Just not so soon.”
“You two go have fun. I’ll take my bike and head over.”
“Kenny?” I was surprised by her candor.
“Look, Hannah, Kylie needs this right now. She wants to be alone with you, dirty or not.”
“Well,” I looked at my birthday twin, “All right.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 035: Kylie's Privileges
Sunday, January 12, 2014

“Girrrrlllllsssssssss,” Kylie sat down at the table with the cards for Uno, “Notice anything new?”
“You’re happy,” I said without a thought.
“Besides that, silly,” she laughed, “Look more closely. At my face.”
“Your hair’s not everywhere,” Ashley observed.
“Ooh! Ooh! Hair clips!” Taylor Jones (who will eventually appear outside interludes, I hope) solved the mystery.
“Yep! I finally reached 7 months as a III+,” she smiled broadly, “ Give me a second.”

We gave her a quiet applause that drew a stern but kindly gaze from Mr. Lee. Our triumphs were well-understood by him. She only had a few months left in here, but she had done it. Miss Kylie Svensson never dropped below a IV again after the following Wednesday, not only to the joy of her podmates but also to the joy of the guards who watched her progress.

“Mr. Lee,” Kylie blushed with embarrassment, “Thank you for believing in me.”
“You're very welcome, and thank you for trusting my words,” he responded in kind.
“I guess… There are good men in this prison! I have to go back to my friends.”
“Kylie, I sense that someday you will bring much joy to me.”
“Me? I don't know how,” she paused and was shocked by his words, “That’d be great though.”

His words came true when Kylie became a prison counselor here at the Mudville juvie..

——————————————————————————————

“Mmmmm,” Kylie and I smooched while Kendra was getting lunch for us.
“Hannah, are you sure Michela’s OK with this?” she asked again to be sure.
“Yes, we have talked about it many times,” I said and embraced Kylie more tightly.
“Hottie,” our lips met, and our breasts rubbed together with Kylie orgasming.
“Let’s not get too excited,” I pulled back, “What’s wrong?”
“Can’t you see it on my arms? I’m just like I was in prison.”
“I helped you before, and I promise I won’t abandon you again.”
“Grinding with you and Michela is awesome, but I want your friendship more.”

With that, we got extremely dirty, fornicating until I reached my own orgasm. This chapter is not about fornication; it’s about friendship. Kylie, Kendra, and I were friends, and as friends Kylie and I talked until Kendra returned from the burger joint. It was a reiteration of before, but Kylie became more exact about things. This was her revealing her sorrows to me in the way that I had revealed to Michela. Telling her story the second time, the more harrowing version, revealed the extent of her pain, but she didn’t cry like before. She had cried once for her family and once for us; the rest of her tears would be private.

It’s hard to talk about this topic with more than the trusted few. My confessions to groups like to the Moreau’s or to my friends had both followed significant triggers. Kendra and Mary-Ann did not talk about such things, and neither one will. I suffered in prison, but Kendra, Mary-Ann, and Kylie did nothing to deserve what those freaks did to them; I bore the guilt of my sins and sometimes feel I still do.

“Was it a good venting?” Kendra asked when she entered the house again.
“Yeah, it really was, actually!” Kylie seemed much more relaxed now.
“I’m happy for you,” the small girl said in her typically flat-lipped fashion.

There had been tears, but it had been a very happy time together, indeed. Oh, the places we were going together!

——————————————————————————————

In Chapter 9: I’m a hottie in distress for one more studio in my quest to fulfill my promise!

Question for the readers: what kinds of polls do you most prefer? I've noticed that readership on this story has crashed, and no one is interested in the polls. You prefer a poll that affects...

(1) The actual plot of the chapter (e.g. choosing which way Hannah is tied up)
(2) The way the girls interact (e.g. what tortures Kendra does to Hannah while Hannah is tied up)
(3) Have little bearing whatsoever (e.g. choosing which flavor of birthday cake Ashley wants)

I choose 1!

Chapter 009: For Ashley - Tommy Trusser
Saturday, June 6, 2015

One of my favorite TV characters used to bemoan “the things he does for love.” I’d promised a 17 year old girl that she would get something, and I was going to extreme lengths for her. That meant, first, a coffee date with my dear Kendra. We made those plans around 3 AM or so. It's a normal occurrence for us.

“Mmmmmm,” I kissed Michela around 5AM, “Baby I love you.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned while lightning flashes lit the room.
“Cat got your tongue, hot stuff?”
“Nmmm… -ou -o!” my gagged hottie responded.
“There, there,” I pushed my lips against her cheek while grinding her.
“Mmmmmmmm!”

Michela was scared of thunderstorms ever since that one awful afternoon when she was home alone with her father. He tied her spreadeagle to her bed for a “session” in which he brutally violated her. For Michela, ironically, the easiest escape from nearly all trauma was to engage in bondage and/or sex with me, and she was already bound and gagged from us having fun 7 hours earlier. I am a lucky girl. Michela would say we're blessed.

I walked into the coffee shop and looked around for the Lilliputian and her young accomplice. Two Cool Girl Bondagettes were looking for two Cool Girl Bondagettes, but I didn't see them. For once, I was here first, hah! What a funny thing to celebrate. Michela and I would be the bright ones for Kendra to spot for a change.

Michela was a doll, as always. Black ankle boots, a black miniskirt, a white button-up shirt with long sleeves, and a blue bandana headband, her prison bandana specifically, were a fine set for a fine lady. I wasn't as fine, to be truthful, with orange gym shorts, a blue tank top, and an orange bandana headband. In fact, I was pretty darned garish! You would think we had taken a pause in the middle to do exercises or something. Almost like we kept some aspects of a juvie schedule.

“BOO!” Ashley scared me from behind.
“YIKES!” I spun around and pushed her away from me.
“Ah ha ha ha!” Kendra cackled loudly, sat down beside me, and opened the box of munchkins.
“Ooh, cinnamon!” Ashley gave me a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks, Mom!”
“If Hannah is Mom, does that make me Dad?” Michela teased her.
“No, it makes you Mom’s best friend!”
“Oh?” it no longer seemed so cute anymore, “I like being friends.”

I had some serious business to discuss with Kendra, though. I was going to visit one Mr. Tommy Trusser and wanted to clear everything with Kendra, but she insisted she come with Michela and I on this trip. It was a bit more of an issue because he worked solo, but those were my problems that arose due to my past. Being tied up, f-cked, and left to die did that to me; Mr. Reardon was a big part of it too.

“Hope you like elbow bondage! Wear long sleeves to BB afterwards,” Kendra laughed heartily.

My small friend smiled at me and ate a munchkin whole. Munchkin would be a fitting nickname for Kendra, actually. How did a girl so small find so much energy to have four children and beat a brain tumor as well? That was a future issue though. I’m a bit jealous of the energy. We didn't struggle to polish off the box of the doughnut treats.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 036: Uncle Gabriel
Monday, October 12, 2009

“So what happened to you that all this happened?” Mary-Ann asked her podmate Ashley.
“I don't talk about it!” snapped the youth, who was eyeing the guards, “It's not for you.”
“I’m sorry, Ash,” Mary-Ann looked at Mr. Edmunds and Mrs. Copley, “I’m sure he was a real piece of work.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ashley rolled her eyes, “That's for sure.”
“One of my foster father’s made an advance on me, but I got away.”
“Lucky you. I wasn't able to hide from him!” the youngster's temper started to boil.
“Ask to take a cold shower,” Mary-Ann was oblivious to the angst, “Then join us for a game.”
“Screw you; I’m going to the gym,” the girl stormed away.

Her story was her story. Everyone here, after some time, would start butting into other people's affairs like they were their own. She didn't want to talk about how she got taken to the cleaners. Worse, it was embarrassing to be the only girl in the pod who had been taken, let alone by one of her own relatives. It wasn't bad enough to have been sexually abused and have to live with it; it was a nightmare for it to have been incestuous abuse.

The code name of “Uncle Gabriel” had been assigned to Ashley's abuser shortly after her arrival due to her refusal to discuss it in any level of detail. This name was passed along to Mary-Ann as fact. No one knew his real name though. The discussion of her relative was enough to send a chill down the tween’s spine and disturb her peace. The night was ruined, and Ashley hated that she had to eventually go back and face those girls again, like it or not.

——————————————————————————————

On that note, we left for a busy morning of filming before Ash and I had work in the afternoon. Ash wanted to come, but I put my foot down because even I was new to this studio. She was allowed to stand around the set as long as she didn't affect the filming or photography, but not this time. I wasn't comfortable with being around strange men, and I didn't want Ashley around it either. If she was going to call me “Mom,” then I was going to protect her like it.

“But I want to come!” Ashley whined when I pulled up to Michela’s place.
“Look, Ashley, it's a single man who works alone. It's sketchy on paper.”
“Oh… I don't get it! I don't get in the way!” she really didn't see it my way at all.
“We’ve all been hurt by men at least once before, and I don't want you to get hurt again.”
“You don't want another Uncle Gabriel in your life, do you?” Kendra asked her.
“No, I don't want another one of those,” she got out of the car and slammed the door.
“Something is bothering her,” Michela sighed, “And it's not you.”

Along the way, I told Michela and Kendra that I didn't like being ‘Mom’ to Ashley. I wanted to be another friend to her, just like Luisa or Michela. The ‘Mom’ thing could be cute, but it was stagnating her progress. It was up to me to end it on my terms, though, because a back-handed talk from Kendra would damage her further. If I did it right, it would be the beginning of Ashley turning the corner and getting closer to being a normal adjusted adult.

This was a house like the Moreau’s normally used, but it was bigger and spacious and frankly quite a bit overwhelming. I felt a case of the nerves, but Kendra took my hand. Yes, she took my hand. It was just us, and she was comfortable. I’d never seen her do such a thing, and she even smiled as she did it. Never let Kendra’s insults and overall demeanor convince you otherwise; underneath that crust was a mush. Then we met him, Mr. Tommy Trusser.

“Tommy Trusser” was far from the brute his name or site would lead you to believe. Oh, he is a tall guy, but I immediately realized that something was wrong. I couldn’t do this, have a guy I’d just met tie me up and gag me. I’d tap out in 30 seconds and relive my misadventures with Greg, and I’d be in a full nervous breakdown before they could untie me. This is despite the comfort I felt from him; this guy was a teddy bear

“Pleased to meet you, Hannah. Mary-Ann and Kendra have said lots of good things about you.”
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Tommy. Nice little set you have here.”
“This place has been worth every penny,” he gave a boisterous laugh, “We’ll do one scene just for today, see how we get along?”
“Tommy,” Kendra stepped in, “For today, is it all right if I tie up Hannah? She had a really bad experience last June, and she’s not recovered fully from it.”
“I read the newspapers,” Tommy wasn’t offended at all, “Others bring friends to do the binding.”
“Thanks, Tommy. See, Hannah, it’s already a good start.”
“This is going to work out all right,” Michela flashed a smile that died just as quickly.

I think the whole issue of Ashley had triggered Michela. She stood alone, facing the wall, with a downward gaze.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 037: The Sore
Monday, May 31, 2010

“Mr. Hoffmann, I think I have a boo-boo,” said the little girl, showing him an ugly wound.
“Ashley, what happened? Maybe I take a look?” Ms. Werner approached her.
“I’d prefer Mr. Edmunds looks at it,” the girl grew frightened.
“Let me see. Ugh, Ashley, this is ugly. I’ll call the nursing station so it doesn't get infected.”
“You cannot do it?!” she didn't want to leave the pod.
“Legally, I cannot. Sorry. Mr. Bowman will accompany you.”

Ashley felt better with Mr. Bowman, a strong black man, ex-Marine, by her side. The girls in the pod needled Ashley nearly every day, wanting to hear her true story in her own words, and she'd picked at a wound she got from a trip during a soccer game as a nervous reaction. Now, it was an ugly sore, just like her story was becoming a sore. It felt strangely good to be shackled and led away from the pod.

With Mr. Bowman watching, the kind nurse used disinfectant and applied antibiotic ointment to the wound, dressing it carefully. Just as soon, Ashley was back on her way to the pod, reunited with her current tormentors. Some girls, like Mary-Ann, were like a sore to her, always trying to get information about Uncle Gabriel. One day, she would spill some beans… from another pot.

——————————————————————————————

“C’mon, Michela. You’ll tie up Hannah, won't you?” Kendra motions to my girlfriend.
“Holy…,” her jaw dropped when she saw me in such a cute outfit.

This was the first time I had ever gotten to dress up like this for a scene. I was dressed like a girl from the 1940s or 1950s, a Rosie the Riveter, if you will. Only I was a sl-tty Rosie with a much-too-short pale green skirt with polka dots, a lacy white tank top, and a brown belt, but the outfit was actually a one piece dress. Pantyhose, red high heels, and a red bandana, in that well known Rosie pinup style, were matched by red lipstick even. It was the first time I’d ever worn lipstick, and I decided it would be the last as well. What an “instant wood” reaction she gave! I have, to this day, never seen Michela so surprised by something I wore.

“Well, come on. Aren’t you going to… tie me up?” I teased her, “Enjoy our friendship?”
“Oh… my…,” Michela stood like a fool, dumbfounded at the sight, “Wow… Hannah…”
“Hey, quit staring and get moving.”
“Hannah,” Tommy said in his friendly manner, “Let's get some shots of you first.”
“Tommy, Michela and I are at your service,” Kendra cordially spoke for the both of them.
“Sorry,” Michela shook her head and sat down, “I’m… confused right now.”

It's easier to entertain an imaginary viewer when you have a real viewer who enjoys it all just as much and more than the imaginary ones. Tommy had a very different style of photography from the Moreau's, and I just had to move slowly while he rapidly snapped shot after shot of me in my old style outfit.

Frankly, this one was a lot of fun. I didn't have to hold my feet in the air and I got to dress up in a very different style. I liked the softer atmosphere of TAC better though and playing along with all the fetishes that were being marketed. Here was much colder because Tommy did this as full time labor. After me, there'd be another. Tommy, however, was a gentle patient man. There was still no way he was touching me though.

Kendra had to tie me up because Michela was too busy staring at me. Something was wrong, but I wasn't wasting Tommy’s time to find out. Ankles and thighs were a good start for the ropes. I almost gasped when, after tying my crossed wrists, Kendra tied up my tits, pushing them out so they showed in such amazing fashion. I almost giggled with excitement and kicked off my heels.

I get to smile and play the seductress for a minute, grab some attention, squirm a bit, and watch in horror before Kendra cleave gags me with a red bandana. It's all so perfect, yes? Struggling is a pleasure when someone is enjoying it more than you, and I let out some despondent groans as I explore my new bondage.

Rolling onto my stomach really accomplishes nothing, but it gives everyone a perfect view of the clothesline that it is keeping me prisoner. I yell a lot while I squirm, and I feel perfect as can be. I am in the zone now, and I am showing my experience in a good way. I sit back up and enjoy a series of close-ups of my face. I am a hottie in distress!



——————————————————————————————

Interlude 038: The Infection
Saturday, December 25, 2010

“You want a fact. I will tell you a fact about little Ashley and Uncle Gabriel.”
“I’m listening,” M.A. primed her ears, innocently unaware that she was getting bunk of sorts.
“Uncle Gabriel did many bad things to me, but I was spared his junk. I never got male junk.”
“Wow,” Mary-Ann was surprised, “He was just a pervert then.”
“Yes,” Ashley deftly took advantage to get away, “Oh, crud, my last baby tooth just fell out.”
“Go see Mrs. Copley,” Mary-Ann fled before she saw any blood.

Ashley was grateful for this painful, bloody Christmas present that helped her escape her nosy podmate. The nosiness was frustrating because otherwise Mary-Ann was her favorite girl in the whole prison. It was hard to be surrounded by 16 girls and one boy almost all day long. They all could get a bit repetitive, especially when you’ve already been here for 19 months. I think it was intentional; she forced the tooth out of her mouth on purpose.

Words eventually get around except within strict alliances, and now the words that Ashley said to Mary-Ann were like an infection to the young girl. She embellished nothing; it was true. But it was a deceptive answer for sure. Just like it was true that photos of her were all over the darknet.

——————————————————————————————

“GAHHHH!” I yelled at the start of the movie, “Ooh unhie -e -ight -ow!”
“Look, missy,” Kendra took my shoulders, “are you going to pay the rent?”
“Ah -on’h ha-e -he -oney!” I insisted while looking right at her.
“Then I’m going to get the money by making money off you,” and it was tits out, my friends.
“Noooooo!” she squeezed them so nicely though.
“Yeah, honey, see that camera there? It's filming us. You being a b-tch and all.”

I tried to squirm away, but Kenny did what Kenny does and hogtied me with another rope. Now, I was helpless against her fondling my tits for the camera. I let out a loud groan, but it did me no good. I was tied up and quite happy with it too. Kenny watched me struggling with satisfaction. I did a naughty thing though: I started to free myself.

Then came the best part, something the Moreau’s never did despite their friendlier atmosphere. I was getting spanked. Yep, Kendra's harsh side came through, and she was giving me a spanking I would remember for days to come. Her hands may have been small, but in spirit she was taller than Mary-Ann. Napoleonic is such a good fit for her. Just look at her conquering me all while I earn some money for it. She has to do it because Michela is sitting on the sofa looking confused by life. I just hoped she was all right.

“So, here's the deal, I get photos and videos of you bound, gagged, and naked, right?”
“Mmm hmm,” I nodded.
“And that pays for your rent. Next time, I’ll do worse to you, OK?” Kenny grabbed my hair.
“Mmm hmm,” I was just agreeing with anything.
“Perfect. Then this is enough for now,” and then she really pinched my tits.
“Owwwwwww!”
“Ah, that's a great time to cut!”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 039: The Infection Spreads
Monday, July 4, 2011

“I understand,” said Michela Palmeri, “I had to shoot my daddy.”
“You poor thing,” Ashley spoke kindly but inwardly feared Michela for just a moment.
“When I pray, I ask Jesus that it never goes that way for me or anyone I love ever again.”
“You really do love the Lord, don't you?” the youngster felt a connection to this teenager.
“Oh, yeah! I spend a lot of time praying. It helps me soooo much.”
“I pray a lot too, but peace seems so far.”
“Confess your sins to the priest. I know you're sorry. Pray for your uncle's soul.”

Ashley grimaced at the thought. Why couldn't she do that when she was just as devout, then, to me, weak-minded and deceived, as Michela? What was stopping her from expressing a profound reaction to a senseless tragedy? Surely Uncle Gabriel was as human as anyone else?

What was robbing her peace? Maybe she felt guilty? That she was a murderer, unforgivable, a true menace to all around her? It never really dawned on me that Ashley killed somebody, wiping them out forever. I never looked at her face and imagined her shooting me or Mary-Ann or Kylie. Sobering thought, yes?

——————————————————————————————

“Michela, what's wrong?” I finally asked her when we were together again.
“I saw you, and I lusted for your body. Not you,” she whimpered and turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?”
“To the car… I’m a monster… just like Daddy,” she started crying.
“Kenny, get my money, please? Michela’s losing her marbles,” my worry was obvious.
“Go take care of her.”
“Tommy, it's been great, but I have to go. Sorry,” I meant it, too.

In the far I found a distressed and angry Michela; she buried her face in her hands and fought her desire to cry. She had never experienced such momentary feelings, that “instant wood” that I’ve felt many times, when you're instantly attracted by the externals without thought of the internals. I knew she didn't know this was a normal sensation; her mind immediately thought to her father rather than try to correct the thoughts.

I did what best friends do. I hugged her while she cried. She was reliving the indescribable and the deplorable. I whispered comforting words and advice, but she struggled to listen. Inside her own bubble, Michela became like a zombie, part of another world with her body only being the conduit linking the two universes. I finally kissed her on the bare lips, and she seemed to get it.

“I… I…I’m sorry, Hannah. I felt so strongly… I…”
“Don't fret. Baby, it's a normal feeling. And the normal reaction is to remind yourself that you're looking at a person. You’ve never felt it before, huh?”
“Not so strongly.”
“Look, if there are no people around when we get home, we'll grind, OK?”
“Yeah… Hannah, why did he do it?” her eyes glazed over once again.
“I don't know, but I’m so glad the only things you have in common are liking bondage and girls.”
“Want to hear about my 4 minute hat trick?”

So I sat and listened to her tell her story while Kendra drove us back to her own place so that she could check on Mary-Ann. Ashley, of course, was at the Palmeri's, but she and I were going to work soon anyway. I had forgotten about Ash when I mentioned grinding to Michela. We were all doing a little better, but there was a lot more improvement needed. Michela calmed down for the time being, and all seemed well.

Then work came and with it the evening. With evening, nay, night, for it was late, and with night came the time for Michela and me. With Ash wanting to spend the night, Michela and I left Ash, Luisa, and Sofia to the video games.

We were walking around the house, talking while checking out the rooms I hadn't explored just because I had no use for them. It was when we entered the sitting room and saw a picture of Mr. Joseph Palmeri, Michela’s father, on the wall that I appreciated the depths of what he did to his eldest daughter.

“HIMMMMM!” Michela yelled and grabbed the portrait off the wall.

Michela cracked the frame over her knee, shattering the glass. Then she repeated on each side of the frame. She then stomped it and kicked it with fury I’d never seen. She was annihilating this photo. Yelling and crying, she killed her father in effigy before dropping to the floor. She burst into sobs, sobs like a child lost in the mall. She was on her hands and knees pounding the floor,

“What is all that commotion?” Mom asked from the kitchen.
“Mom! I need Mom!” Michela wailed quietly.
“Oh, my God!” Ashley said when she and Luisa arrived.
“Mom!” I yelled out, “Come quickly! It's Michela!”
“What is all… Oh, no! My child!” Mom ran to embrace her child.
“Mommmm! Why did he r-pe meeeee?! Whyyyyyyy?!”

Luisa bravely took my hand, and I could tell then that she knew something that I didn't. With an unwavering confidence, I let Luisa lead me away while Ashley stayed with Mom and Michela. I didn't want to leave Michela, but she needed her mother right now.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 040: True Loneliness
Sunday, December 23, 2012

Ashley hid in the corner so much of the time that the guards, especially Mr. Edmunds, had to talk her into mingling with the rest of the population. She was warming up to me, but her heart was a big void after 3.5 years spent in here, isolated from the world, emptied by the absence of parental love in her life. She was just two weeks shy of her 12th birthday when it all happened.

I know it. One is not truly alone until they're a parentless only child. That's why Mary-Ann, me, and Ashley got along so well. We were genuinely rejected. Mary-Ann at least had a few cousins and such on her father's side; I had no cousins at all; Ashley's relations were all in France. There was a problem: 1300 miles plus an ocean between her and them. She couldn't place international calls, either. That's what we experienced: true loneliness.

“Do you have any trois?” she asked me in her usual manner while we played Go Fish.
“No. Go Fish.”
“That is a shame. I got what I wanted. Do you have any hopes and dreams?”
“No. Go Fish.”
“Well, phooey, I did not get what I wanted,” she looked at me and smiled, “Hannah, thank you.”
“For what?” I had only been here for 4 weeks.
“For caring about a little French twit like me. You’ve made prison tolerable for me.”
“I think someday we'll be glad our paths crossed,” I said, and did we ever smile!

——————————————————————————————

“I don't know if Michela told you, but I… I read her diary while she was inside.”
“Luisa, why did you do that?” I asked because the teen seemed distraught at her confession.
“Because I wanted to understand her better. I love her too much,” she admitted.
“I don't know. I think Michela needed that outburst. Maybe it'll be her turning point.”
“Did you have one?” she asked me with hope in her voice.
“I did. My friends Kylie, Mary-Ann, and Kendra have had theirs. Only Ash and Michela have yet to have that… outburst where they let out their true feelings about the past.”

Luisa and I paused at that moment, and we were silently joined by Ashley. Seeing Ashley grow so much so quickly was a delight, and she had a strengthening friendship with Luisa in particular. At the moment, all of us were worried. Was Michela turning the corner? If so, was she turning towards madness or towards liberation? Sadly, only time would tell… days… weeks…. months.

Ashley seemed especially distraught by this, like she had something she was hiding from us all, a secret she was afraid of exposing. She turned to Luisa, who clearly was as clueless as me; sweat was forming on her brow. The French girl was fearing something but why? There was nothing I knew that made sense, and I wasn't sure how to react to her nervous shifting. She took my hand for just a moment, and I felt the angst in her soul.

“Hey,” I heard Michela’s voice, and I turned and saw her seemingly relieved, “Sorry for that.”
“Michela!” Luisa sprang up, and all three of us swarmed the former hockey star.
“This one,” Michela took Luisa and gave her a hug, “Thank you so much for caring about me.”
“Y-you-you're welcome,” Luisa shook a little, “I love you so much.”
“Hannah,” the big girl let go of her sister and turned to me, “Come on. Attic.”
“Ummm,” I realized this was that moment, “OK. Whatever you need.”

Up the stairs we went to the finished attic that we shared as a bedroom. Michela shut the door, took me in her arms, and gave me a massive kiss right on the lips. I felt something different in her embrace; I felt peace. It was a wonderful peace, a strange acceptance. I melted in her arms but only for a moment. Michela had something else in mind.

“Hannah, I need two things from you,” she stepped back and opened a drawer, “Here.”
“What is this?” I took the yellow notebook.
“Tie me. Gag me. Use me. Please me,” she said, “When we're done, read this diary notebook.”
“I can't do that,” I put the notebook down, “Those are your private thoughts for you alone.”
“No, it's perfectly OK for you to read it because I said you may.”
“Why do you want me to read it?”
“Because you love me. Lou read it, and now you should, too. You’ll hopefully get to understand the things I’ve wanted to tell you but couldn't put into words.”
“I’ll do it all… because I love you. Those boots are sexy; keep them on.”
“While I was hugging my mother, she said something that reverberated with me and spooked Ashley… That the past is set in stone, but we're in charge of our present choices. Hannah, I will never know why he did it. I can't erase the trauma. I can't stop the pain or the triggers. But I can choose how I will live with it. I’ll keep my boots.”
“I’m so happy for you. Turn around, my lovely Gangsta, and put your arms behind your back.”
“I hope you're not jealous, but I will always love my family more than you.”
“No offense taken because you should love them more than me.”

On that note, I tied Michela's crossed wrists behind her back using the clothesline, but I made it a tight tie to ensure she was mine. She gleefully squealed when I did that and when I unbuttoned her shirt, and then she turned around to face me. That was when I knew it. Michela Palmeri was back in some guise. She had turned towards liberation. It was humbling to be part of it, and the fire in the kiss that followed was overpowering. I didn't need more to push onto her back on the bed, and I took over, fondling her breasts, kissing her, and grinding her. No orgasms was like the one that happened while our lips were locked.

Passion burned within us. Michela was helpless. She couldn't resist me, and trust me that sex is amazing when you're two girls grinding with your clothes on. I increased the intensity of all of my actions: the fondling, the grinding, the kissing, the groaning. We were in the heat of things, and never had I felt such enormous energy come out of her while she was tied up. This was it. We had found the why and how of our love, and I forced us both to orgasm with our lips locked in an electrifying shockwave.

“Y-y-you…,” Michela shuddered, “Forgot to gag me. You’d better tie me up better.”
“How about an orange rubber ball and some duct tape. Hmm?” I sensuously asked her.
“Hannah, as long as it's tight,” her eyes seemed more alive than ever.
“Or I can put yummy socks in your mouth?” I effortlessly removed one and put it near her.
“Would you?” her eyes lit up, “That would make this unforgettable!”
“Hush, now,” I pushed the first into her mouth, then the second, and then grabbed the tape.
“Mmmmmmmmm,” was all she said after the 8th wrapping of tape was snapped.

Now was time to really tie her up. I tied her spreadeagle, to be exact. It was the beginning of a night of revitalized passion. I couldn't wait to see how this more confident Michela would take on the world. Grinding a sexy Michela, so sexy I can't put it into words, was delightful beyond all descriptions. She was happy. Her eyes were still glazed over, but there was a sparkle in them that usually disappeared in times of stress. The first leap had been made.

Body rubbed against body. Orgasm after orgasm followed in a beautiful series of erotic scenes as I enjoyed my bound and gagged girlfriend. She enjoyed my socks in her mouth, and she was erotic in her struggles against the ropes. I felt up her tits and rubbed my bare tits against hers so we both experienced breast orgasms even. There was no topping kt. I even briefly, ever so very briefly, pinched her nose shut and rubbed her crotch. That didn't excite her like I hoped, but we finally tried it. Passion burned in us.

Afterwards, she was still gagged and clothed the same, but again her wrists were tied behind her back once again. A tight harness pushed out her tits with her unbuttoned shirt pulled down to her arms and her bra pulled up as it had been the entire time. Ropes bound her knees and thighs with her ankle ropes being worked into the heel of her ankle boots. A waist and crotch rope finished it off. It was all brown rope now, a rougher and thinner rope than the clothesline. She was lying on the bed with a rope from her ankles to the corner of the bed to restrict her struggles.

In my hands was a yellow notebook. On it, written in a fancy, thick script was her full Christian name, Michela Arcangela Palmeri. There were two stickers beside that beautiful handwriting, one for her beloved Minnesota Wild and one for the U.S. national hockey team. Emotions filled me as I grasped the cover and opened the notebook while Michela lovingly stared at me…

——————————————————————————————

In the multi-chapter story “Ashley's Birthday,” Ashley will celebrate adulthood by making her bondage modeling debut and by…

(A) Fornicating with a bound and gagged Kylie between scenes
(B) Exposing Mary-Ann’s big squishy French melon tits
(C) Being forced to worship Kendra’s feet in various forms
(D) Spanking Hannah to the rhythm of “Happy Birthday”

D

on bare butt

Great chapter!! I choose B!

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, @LunaDog

All right... well, throughout Chapters 10-13, both B and D will happen, D happening on a bare butt.

Chapter 010: Ashley’s Birthday Part 1 - Her Intro
Saturday, June 13, 2015

Which is the most amazing part? That it's Ashley's birthday? That she's an adult now? That we are celebrating in part with her bondage modeling debut? Perhaps the chocolate cake Luisa is making? Or the big party we have planned, with some CGC girls joining us at Mary-Ann’s for a celebration? Or the secret plans we're hiding to induct the French girl into the Cool Girls’ Club as part of the festivities? It was going to require teamwork from all sides.

“Happy birthday, Ashley,” I hugged her tightly as soon as we met.
“Thanks, Mom!” the embrace was returned by the big girl.
“Are you ready for a day full of adventures?” I asked her hopefully, “Meeting friends and such?”
“Am I ever! Where is sis? She's supposed to come, too. Kendra, Hannah's here!”
“Oh, sh-t!” Kendra hopped out while putting a pair of gym shorts on, “I’m ready!”
“Shall we go?” I laughed at this display, “And kidnap three gorgeous girls?”
“Hey, don't forget about me,” Maddy got off the sofa.

There were many scenes at work today: two each for Kenny, Kylie, M.A., Michela, and, last but not least, Ashley. Marcy and I were the riggers while Steve did all the camera work. At least, this was what I thought. I had no idea there would be yet another girl for me to rig up. Things were going to be absolutely crazy for sure. You see, Steve and Marcy wanted this to be special for Ashley, too. I was about to be stunned by their kindness once again.

Ashley wouldn't let go. She started crying, and from the cry I knew it was a familiar emotion, an expression of her sadness. I was wonderful in her eyes, but substitutions couldn't give her what she really wanted: her parents. By this time, Mary-Ann and Kendra have helped Ashley reclaim those things she wanted and were preserved by her Elko church family. We sat down together. I did not know that she had been waiting to open what appears to be a photo album.

“Oh, goodness, look at this,” I had never seen these before.
“Tante Marie and I went to Elko yesterday and picked up the things my old church family had so kindly preserved for me.”

She flipped through the pages telling me stories. She showed me pictures of the city of Orleans, a series of photos from the town’s annual celebration of St. Joan of Arc, whose military prowess defeated the English siege 600 years ago. Pictures of the French Riviera, where they vacationed many times, of Stonehenge, and of ancient Brussels were also included. The beautiful mountains of Catalonia, Switzerland, and Turin also featured. They were memories; she would never make new memories with her parents. She fought tears the entire time, and I decided that I had to take my position.

“Ashley, you know what would make me happy today?” I asked her in a serious tone.
“What?” I watched the color drain from her face as if I were going to ask her to strip.
“If you stopped calling me Mom. I can be your best friend and be the friend you go to when you want guidance, but I don’t want to be your mother. These are your parents. I was OK being the figure you asked for permission for things because you weren’t an adult, but I’d rather be another friend. The thought of going to the Moreau’s and tying up a ‘daughter’ is repulsive to me. Same thing with Maddy; I think you shouldn’t call her Aunt Mary any longer. Mary-Ann and Kendra are your housemates, and we’re all your friends. OK?”

Ashley looked at me with sadness for a moment, and then she looked at the photo album. Taking a photo from her parent’s wedding out of the album, she hugged it tightly against her chest. She looked at the photo again and then looked at me again. There was so much happening inside her mind at the moment; I could see her contemplating my every word. Finally, she smiled at me.

“Hannah, I love you so much. You’re right. Mom and Dad are alive forever anyway, in heaven, and they are still Mom and Dad even if they’re not physically present with me. I’m sorry if I’ve made things awkward for you the last few weeks. I was in prison so long that I started to maybe go a bit crazy and started compartmentalizing you and Mary because you two were the best girls to me. I really,” she paused, “Yes, I really see you two as my best friends, and I see Michela and Kylie in a different kind of friendship. Then the other juvie friends are different from them.”

“You’re adjusting to your sexuality outside prison, it sounds like,” Kendra said.
“I’m not comfortable talking about that with anyone yet. Sorry,” Ashley responded.
“We get it, Ashley. Kendra, Mary, and I got it from Mr. Reardon and his goons. I got the works from Greg,” I explained my viewpoint, “Michela got it from her father. Men can be sh-theaded motherf-ckers, and some of us get driven to look at girls the way Kendra and Mary look at boys. It’s an extremely rational reaction.”
“I hope you shot him in the balls,” Kendra cracked, “That would teach him a lesson!”
“I wish I’d kicked Greg’s for sure. Then, he balled Stacy behind my back!”
“Yeah,” Ashley bit her lip, “We shall go to Teddy’s, yes?”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 41: Snow Angels
Thursday, January 31, 2013

My fifth interlude devoted to this day. It started with outdoor volleyball, saw me get molested by Mr. Reardon for the final time (Kylie, too), and bravery from Phoebe. It ended on a beautiful, in my opinion, moment with Kendra, a beautiful soul whom I underappreciated then.

“Why do you like the snow so much?” I asked her while we made snow angels in the yard.
“Because, Larsson, it's pure and refreshing. It's a rush of cold!” her happiness was obvious.
“I thought because you liked snorting it,” Kylie quipped.
“I’d say to get bent, but we’ve suffered too much of that the last two months.”
“Kylie's like a little cherub. She's even got the little extra in her cheeks,” I quickly defuse things.
“That she is for sure.”

Kylie blushed. She was like an angel of sorts. One thing about the circle of girls that surrounded me in Pod F is that we all would have taken a bullet for any of the others. She tried her best, and she joined us in making snow angels. It was so much fun and an escape from the hell in which we were all trapped.

——————————————————————————————

Teddy’s was a bittersweet place for Mary-Ann, but it was the home of triumphs for the rest of the Pod. Yes, I love to describe food because I know what it’s like to not have any, to starve, to live day to day, to wonder when you wake up if the budget will allow you to eat 1 or 2 burritos, and many days not to eat at all or eat one paltry meal. I learned to appreciate my food, to savor each and every bite, and to be thankful for whatever is put before me whether I like it or not. You do not know what it’s like to be us, but I know you sympathize with us. I feel comfortable telling you things that I would not tell my grandmother or my parents. Bear with me in these upcoming paragraphs while I provide life to the breakfast table so you appreciate how I see it.

Michela, Mary-Ann, Ashley, Kendra, Kylie, and I were all gathered around the table in Teddy’s to celebrate Ashley’s adulthood. Technically, she became an adult at 2:36 AM, but no one here was awake at that time, especially since it would have been 2:36 AM Orleans time, which makes things even more confusing… Maybe we were awake then. Oh, forget it! It’s food time.

Hot coffee, orange juice, and grapefruit juice were on the table. The coffee was perfect in a deep dark color that tasted perfect to me; yes, I will drink coffee nearly anyway. It tasted so good, and it was clearly a fresh pot. The orange juice had the right sweetness, from a good batch of fruit. I was a happy girl.

Before me sat a stack of big, fluffy pancakes with a big blob of butter in a little black plastic cup of which I intended to use every single blob. Beside me sat a thing of maple syrup, the one thing that made Teddy’s a little pricier than a regular breakfast joint, because it was the real deal. They were so absorptive, these pancakes. Beside the pancakes sat two pieces of bacon, fried up to the crispiest ideal of bacon. Oh, yeah, these are blueberry pancakes because I love blueberries.

To the left of me sat Maddy, whose bacon was squealing and oinking because it was floppy and disgusting, just the way I would expect her to want it. Before her sat the full spread, again in the way I would expect her to eat. Thick pieces of bread had been turned into the finest and most succulent and flavorful French toast you can imagine; overtones of vanilla are noticeable, and it is so thick and creamy. The bread was fried to perfection with an even browning, and I suspect it was left to soak in the egg and milk mixture overnight or at least for hours.

To my right sat Kylie, who had the most succulent omelette you can imagine. It was filled with a mixture of perfectly cooked, sweet, finely chopped onions and green bell peppers and mountains of gooey cheddar cheese. It was thick and fluffy as well, and the sausage was perfectly browned along the round for both pieces. Hearty whole wheat toast slices were also perfectly browned for a slathering in that same butter and jam.

Directly across from me sat the birthday girl, Ashley. Her eyes seemed overwhelmed when we’d come here a month before, and even today she studied the menu like an interesting book. What I wish I knew then that I knew now: she rarely went to restaurants and didn’t know what the foods were! She humbly admitted that she didn’t know it because, at home, she spoke French, and rare were the occasions upon which they ate out, with that food usually being take-out.

Now, before her, sits a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, thick and fluffy. The chips melted just a little during their time over the griddle and started to brown at the points of contact. Those parts are the most delicious ones on a pancake, if you ask me. A happy medium is found in her slices of bacon, which are neither limp like mine nor stiff like Mary-Ann’s.

To Ashley’s right is sweet, Kendra. Small yet adorable, Kendra has a thick ham steak before her alongside two scrambled eggs, two pieces of toasted white bread, and two small pancakes. That thick, fluffy, crunchy bread has a reason to be in Kendra’s life. She layers two big pieces of ham on one of the pieces of toast and then puts some of her eggs. That makes a thick sandwich that is mouthwatering from my perspective.

To Ashley’s left is a lefty, Michela. In true Michela style, a thick ham steak also sits on her plate. What makes her plate different from Kendra’s is that she has a breakfast biscuit that is slathered in country white sausage gravy instead of toast, and her eggs are fried. It is a breakfast that is fit for a girl like Michela, a girl who works out and is maybe, I hope, starting to dream of returning to playing hockey in the near future.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 42: The Pod Angels
Saturday, December 22, 2012

I have talked this here and in The Bondage Model, but I’ll give a concrete example of the phenomenon of “Pod Angels.” Pod Angels were those wonderful people on the outside, those who cared about us teenage delinquents and felt sorry for us. They did little things for us, and it was a wonderful thing they did indeed.

Some had sent us Christmas cookies. Big, heavy, rich sugar cookies, almost half an inch thick, a cookie for each inmate, had been sent to us. It was so sweet of someone to do that, and we stood in the yard eating our cookies while, on the other side of the wall, on the other side of the prison fence, carolers stood singing Christmas songs, reminding us that we were special too. It wasn't a thought of mine that we had this season for a real reason. Young me just discarded it all as more superstitious nonsense, which rendered me unable to appreciate their kindness.

“Thank you so much!” Michela shouted, earning a reprimand.
“These cookies are soooooo good,” Phoebe smiled.
“I’m going in,” I said, “I can't leave M.A. alone,” and trudged back inside, “Hey.”
“Hi,” M.A. slowly nibbled on the cookie, “More than my parents ever did for me.”
“Do you need to talk?”
“What's there to say? The person who made this cookie loves me more than my parents.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It wasn't until I was inside for my first Christmas, back in 2009, that I realized kids got presents from their parents and actually had a Christmas tree. We didn't have a tree even.”
“M.A., calm down,” I take a deep breath, “My Christmas present is being forsaken by my folks.”
“We have each other though.”

——————————————————————————————

We all do our own little things while eating the food. Ashley uses her syrup sparingly in order to taste the full flavor of the delicious breakfast. Michela and Mary-Ann put a dot of syrup on their respective meats for a little added sweetness. Kylie and I take a bite off of each other’s plates, and of course Kylie takes a bit from Ashley’s. It is a fun group we have here, and Ashley of course gets asked lots of questions and asks us a lot too.

She asks:
“What’s it like being tied up for a scene?”
“What is your favorite thing about modeling?”
“Is it scary when Marcy handles you?”
“What is it like acting for a camera?”
“Is it difficult posing?”
“How wild is ‘Girls Gone Wild’?”

But we ask her and tell her things like:
“How does it feel to be 18?”
“Having you in our lives is like having a shining sun that radiates love!”
“What are you most looking forward to today?”
“How do you like your pancakes?”
“Are you excited to be getting paid to get tied up?”
“Don't be afraid of Steve; he doesn't bite.”

It takes two vehicles to transport us all. Mary-Ann and Michela both drive SUVs, so there is an abundance of space for us all and more than that. Ashley is quiet and brightly smiling during the trip to the Moreau's. The smile disappears when Kylie puts an arm on her shoulder, and for the first time I wondered if something about us disturbed her peace. I dismissed it as paranoia since I am a bit of a manipulator.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 43: Lavender & Black
Saturday, February 9, 2013

The day our new uniforms arrived came with a simple transition. We stripped for showers like on any other Saturday. The clean uniforms that awaited us after were different, though. Black pants, an optional black long-sleeve t-shirt, a lavender short-sleeve pocket T, and black slip-on shoes awaited us instead. The bra and panties were now black as well.

I wonder what they did with the old uniforms… all 256+ of them.

“Oooh, pretty,” Michela said when she saw the new clothes awaiting us.
“Maybe this bra will better contain Maddy’s bust,” I teased my big-titted friend.
“I am so glad that my bandana is black,” M.A. smiled and put on the bra.
“Maddy, you’d need a 44 inch bandana to contain your hair.”
“Lavender is so you,” she ignored my potshots and complimented me instead.
“Well, thank you. I think Kylie is cuter though.”
“I like it. It's a juvie uni now, not a prison uni,” Kylie smiled.

For the next 16 months, Kylie wore the lavender and black. For Ashley, this would be her outfit for the next 27 months. It was only 12 months for me. I feel like I was privileged little sh-t even today. I deserved 5 years in Shakopee for what I did, but I’m grateful I got to spend this phase in a place where I made meaningful friendships instead.

——————————————————————————————

It was an odd place to meet: an office building that seemed to be active! Yet, this was the right address that Steve texted me. He said that sometimes they got to use this place on weekends as long as nothing was messed up and they stayed out of the actively used portions of the building. It was a bit exciting to be doing scene work for something new.

Up the walk went the Bondagettes of Pod F: me, Kenny, Kylie, Michela, Ash, and Maddy. I was proud of my band of misfits who now fit in the world in their own ways. We all struggled in our little ways, but we had our niches. Ashley and I worked at Best Buy. Maddy worked at FedEx. Kylie and I were in college. Kendra was a full-time model, and Michela was working at being a good big sister once again. Just yesterday Michela and Luisa also worked to make… a surprise.

“Here we are,” I said just as Marcy opened the door in anticipation of our arrival, “Marcy!”
“This is our first time helping a girl turn 18!” she laughed at the circumstances.
“Thanks for your help. It means so much to her!” M.A. led Ashley by the hand, “Love it here!”
“I was here a couple of weeks ago,” Kylie stared at the walls.
“Well, baby, everyone’s been here but us,” I looked at Michela.
“Someone had to be the last one here.”
“I think even Ash has been here,” M.A. laughed at us, “Last time I shot with them was here.”

Ashley didn't seem too comfortable in this place, and she began squirming a lot in place. What I wish I knew then. What thoughts were racing through her mind? For every bit that Michela and I shut down to hide from trauma, Ashley turned on. She drank in all the sights and echoes from the big space, and suddenly the confidence was gone. I could picture the little girl now, with one of those many men she named in the photos, being ordered to strip inside such a place, and being taken to the cleaners. What an awful sight. Which one of those men was Uncle Gabriel?

Just then I saw a small red Mazda, in sparkling condition, pull up beside Michela’s SUV. Out of the car stepped a medium height blonde girl with the straightest hair and sweetest face. This was none other than Xandra Watkins, and I took off to greet her. Yes, I was excited to see her. Out I ran down the walk and met her before she could even reach the walk itself.

“Xandra! I didn't know you’d be here!” I took her hand, “This is so great!”
“Michela told me it was your friend’s birthday. She said Ashley? I don't know that name.”
“Oh, come on!” I stopped to hug her, “I’m so happy to see you again!”
“It's good to be back with TAC. I need to meet your friends.”
“All right. Girls, get over here! I want you to meet Alexandra Watkins, or Xandra. These are Mary-Ann, Kylie, Ashley, and Kendra.”
“Charmed,” Xandra smiled brightly, “I’ve seen pics of most of you except this one.”
“Me?” Ashkey nervously stared at the finger pointing at her, “I’m the birthday girl.”
“Glad to meet you!” M.A. smiled.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 44: Footie
Thursday, July 4, 2013

“Michela!” I kicked the ball.
“I’ll take it! BOOM!” my friend pounded the ball with her foot.
“Sorry!” an opposing defended blocked it with a good natured jab at us.
“I’ll just,” Ashley, in true French fashion, fearlessly headed the ball for a winning goal.
“Nice going!” I gave Ashley a compliment in the shower
“Thank you. I remember the 2006 World Cup, rooting for France. Such a sad day for me.”
“Why sad? Because they lost?” I was naïve or not observant, but Kylie nodded in understanding.
“Because that was the day Uncle Gabriel first molested me,” she sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“I was only 9. From when I was 9 until the day the gun fired. Football is a mixed emotion.”
“Favorite sport is stained with bad memories, right?” Michela understood too well.

Ashley closed up and wouldn't speak. She was different. I wasn't attracted to her even when she was naked. She looked defeated and tired. She shook a little with fear. Whatever happened had left a lasting impression upon her. She hurried through the rest of her shower and took off into the silence of quiet time in order to hide from us.

——————————————————————————————

Michela, M.A. Ashley, Kylie, and I all had a perfect prison pose; Kendra was straight but lacked the hand clasped behind her back. This was terribly awkward, but business was business. There were 12 scenes to shoot and limited time to shoot. With 6 girls, we rolled a die, literally, to pick who would be first, and the winner was Michela. Xandra needed time to familiarize herself with the rest anyway.

The wardrobes had been all predetermined so that the Moreau's didn't have to transport so much laundry with them. They brought a spare for each of them just in case, myself excluded, but that was it. If I had to dress up, I’d wear whichever outfit Kylie didn't need at that moment. That all said, I followed Michela into the corner where she was dressing.

“Hey,” I reached up from behind and squeezed her right tit with my left hand.
“Oh, hiiii,” Michela turned around and embraced me, “Little cutie.”
“I don't want to keep you,” I jumped up and kissed her on the lips.
“Someone's uncomfortable with us.”
“Oh?” I turned and saw, at a distance, a distraught and squirming Ashley.
“She doesn't like seeing such things. Let's stop,” Michela backed away from me.

One of us noticed something was wrong though. Kylie was paying close attention to the girl in a way that was undetectable to any of us. A smile and wink got a mixed reaction from Ashley. It was a test, and it produced the desired results. It was the start of a day of mental games, and we all had lost a mind game to Kylie at some point.

Most of all, Ashley took a natural disliking to Xandra, of all the sweethearts. I was afraid that it would get out that we had been in prison and that she would turn her nose up the way so many other people had over the last year of my life. It was paranoia on my part, but again Kylie was on top of everything with Ashley.

“All right, let’s fill out the paperwork,” Steve announces, “We have 12 scenes to shoot!”

——————————————————————————————

In Chapter 11… Lots of hotties in distress!

Lovely chapter!!

Chapter 011: Ashley’s Birthday Part 2 - Her Debut
Saturday, June 13, 2015

“Look, I’m just in a pair of underwear. Perhaps I should go first?” Mary-Ann suggested.
“Yeah, and then we get to see your big floppy French titties even sooner!” I added to that.
“I had no idea you were such a sexualized individual,” Ashley seemed to tease me from behind.
“Only during modeling am I like this. It’s all in the play.”
“Yeah!” Michela defended me, “She’s having fun. Even M.A. will get excited.”
“Roll with it,” Kylie looked right into Ashley’s eyes, “We’re here to help you.”

Mary-Ann was stunning in her cheesecake shots because of the simple combination of the white bra, white garter, skin matching hose, and pink open toe heels. That hair was as wild as ever, and even a hair clip could only do oh-so-much for that. This is the wildcat; nothing contains her!

It’s with the sweetest intentions that I say she was “instant wood” like this. It was a perfect setup with the outfit and the office. She looked so carefree and liberated. In reality, she was both after finally coming to terms with her past in many regards. Despite her ways, inside she was just as terrified of the world as I was. An emotional moment with her was rarer than one with Kendra.

Tying up Mary-Ann is always a pleasure. She talks and laughs until you gag her, and then she’ll ham it up no matter the gag. I didn’t tie her elbows for this one because it wasn’t essential. This set was all about the photos; no video was being shot. I tied a simple harness with ropes on either side of her tits and tied her legs in the three usual place (ankles, knees, and thighs). A simple gag was made from a white handkerchief.

“So, this is bondage modeling, no?” Ashley studied the scene that unfolded.
“It is indeed,” I studied my friend’s motions.
“Fun, isn’t it?” Michela studied Mary-Ann’s facial expressions with the love of friendship.
“She looks so displeased with it.”
“I would be too if everyone was always trussing up my natural 34 double-D tits,” I laughed.
“Something about bondage makes me smile,” Ashley glanced towards Kylie.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 45: The Redone Schedules
Wednesday, April 3, 2013



Yes, that “New” tab once again. Google Sheet makes it adjustable as need be so it can always be recycled without having to get a new link from some image server or something of the kind.

It wasn't until Wednesday that I really got in sync with the modified schedules. To me, the best part was the new afternoon slot for additional programs. This was where all the fun happened as they wanted it to feel like an extension of school. This is when I took all the cooking classes and such. CPR was in the evening.

“Quiet Time,” that 3 hour window on the non-school days, was torture. You’re stuffed in the cell with your cellmate. That’s just awful, right? Worse, you’re not allowed to talk to each other, but you’re at least allowed to sit at the table that’s inside the cell. Those tables were pretty nifty, and I’ll explain them more in the next chapter after showing you a high-res version of Pod F. OK, we weren’t stuffed in there; we were shut in there. Worse was when there was nothing on the program schedule, so you had to stay in the cell from 12:45 to 5:00.

Today, I sat there at the table, answering a letter that Nichole had sent me. This one was special to me. It was the first time I realized that people, when they truly love another person, can suffer when they know that other person is also suffering. This spiritual link was something I wouldn’t see as spiritual for a while. As it would turn out, this strange co-suffering was one of the many things that attracted me to Catholicism.

I love you, I wrote on a different piece of paper and spun it for Michela to see.
I love you, too, she wrote below it, and then I erased both to use the paper for my letter.

At least during “Quiet Time” we were allowed to come out if we pushed the intercom button or whatever it was. It’d buzz the “Guard Box” and get their attention so we could talk to them and ask for things like more paper, if we wrote and/or drew so much in our letters during the time we had, get a nurse if we needed a bandage, or get a drink. It was more like being sent to your room but without the stern gaze of a parent hanging overhead. In some respects, for some of us, it was truly easier than life at home. At least, it was for me, Mary-Ann, and Kendra.

——————————————————————————————

One thing is odd about Maddy: she won’t swear, even on camera, unless genuinely in a big snit. Even for this, she was loath to flip off Steve even when he was trying to egg her into doing so. It’s but another part of Miss Maddy Big Tits that makes her so lovable. Ashley studied every aspect of the scene with a careful eye.

“What is he doing?” Ashley asked me.
“Taking pictures of her feet because a lot of customers like foot shots.”
“I like foot shots,” Kendra winked at me, “I have favorite feet in this room.”
“I’m ignoring her,” Ashley was very business-like, quite unusual for her, “What is she doing?”
“She’s twisting her arms to try to reach her leg ropes, and he’ll take 2-5 of her like that.”
“Why does she lean forward so much?”
“Steve likes it a lot. From the front, you can see down her shirt; from the side, you get a profile of her tits.”

I walk over to Mary-Ann now, and she wails a little bit more. I stand her up and take the chair from her for just a moment while Steve photographs her standing in place. Another shift means another question from Ashley.

“What does that do?”
“Now she’s standing, which highlights the leg muscles a bit. Crouching shows her figure quite a bit differently from the other profile shots,” I put the chair back and push Maddy down.
“Go ahead. Expose her,” Steve nudged Ashley, “It’s fun.”
“Ummm… all right,” Ashley walked over and exposed her, “Tits out, my dear!”
“MMMMMMMM!” Mary-Ann finally spoke for herself.
Ashley was disturbed by her actions, “That was cold. But she’s even lovelier.”
“That’s the beauty of the exposure and why it’s best to wait before exposing her.”
“She’s beautiful in many ways, but only she has big floppy French titties. I thought Steve…?”

Ashley seemed disconcerted by that last part of the sequence. She was dead set on her images of Steve doing a lot more than he really did. Sure, he could do stuff once a girl was tied, but it was his female assistants who did all the tying. What was wrong with a girl doing it? Ashley seemed to be an uncomfortable bisexual in my eyes, but why was she uncomfortable with these things?



Without any complaints from Alexandra, I began tying her wrists and elbows behind her back to keep things moving along while Marcy untied Mary-Ann. Otherwise, it was identical to what we had done to Mary-Ann albeit in a different room of the building and with a different chair. Yes, I even gagged Alexandra with a simple white handkerchief cleave gag. I wanted Ashley to feel at ease around the new girl. The tight skirt, beige heels, and striped sweater were perfect especially with a few buttons undone. I gave her harness a ‘V’ for when the good stuff happened.

“GRRRRRRMMMMPPPPP! UGH!” Alexandra gave some test grunts.
“She seems to like it, doesn’t she?” Ashley forced a smile.
“Don’t worry about her thinking dirty thoughts. She’s as straight as Maddy.”
“You mean kinky beyond repair but only interested in sleeping with boys?” Mary-Ann cackled and entered the room.
“Steve is telling her what to do? Is that normal?” Ashley relaxed quite a bit now.
“Yeah, that’s exactly the case. It’s only her second scene,” I explained, “Still needs coaching.”
“I like that outfit. I think Steve does too.”
“Excuse me,” I said. Tits out, my friends.
“GRMMPP!” Alexandra didn’t like that too much.

Steve took tons of photos of Alexandra, so there’s plenty to go around on this set. I took the seat away from Alexandra and left her to stand and glare at the camera. I didn’t realize it then, but an exceptionally beautiful lady named Michela was strongly aroused by this scene. Just as strongly, she was ashamed though, and she quietly turned around to face me and Ashley instead.

I understood it, but I didn’t like the way she came over to me and hugged me while Xandra did a fine job behind her. What was wrong with her thinking Xandra was pretty? Then it hit me that I was blessed. Michela so strongly loved me that she felt ashamed whenever she lusted after other girls. Part of her hated her sexuality.

I made Alexandra take a seat on the floor so she could show off her chops both as a beautiful and talented damsel-in-distress and as a model. She knew how to scowl and how to look pitiful, but I didn’t see the problems with Michela having such feelings about her. Was it foolishness, or was it beautiful? Did Michela really love me that much?

I thought back to the other day, when Michela destroyed the picture of her father. I remembered her diary and the things I read therein. It was a harrowing account, indeed, but I couldn’t feel her pain like I wanted because I knew the pain both of being hated by a parent and of being sexually abused by a loved one through bondage. I had never felt them at the same time. I hugged her in the understanding that she adored me to let me read her private thoughts like that. Around us, all of our friends stood watching the hot blonde posing for the pictures.

“Why did she get on her knees?” Ashley asked me without realizing she was interrupting us.
“Look at the angle, and see what’s most obvious,” I answered and rubbed Michela’s back.
“Can you two please stop being horny?” Kylie asked me.
“Not right now because it’s not horniness. It’s sadness.”
“Michela, are you all right?” Ashley looked at her.
“Not now,” Michela shuddered, “I lusted when I saw Xandra like that. I disrespected Hannah.”
“Hannah, why is she putting her head on the ground like that?”
“Just look at the profile. Sexy, isn’t it?

Then Steve had Xandra sit back again so he could get some heel shots. She turned about and did what he said without question while adding her own expressions to things. Behold, a dish! But, I had more important things to keep my attention. I quietly whispered into Michela’s ear, words to remind her that this phase was important, just as Dr. Sheridan said. She needed to express her pain after so many years of suppressing it, and that outburst was just one part of the process.

“GRRMPPP! UGH!” she rolled onto her stomach.

Stomach shots were my greatest temptation and the same for Maddy. We just wanted to put the poor thing in a hogtie or spank her at that point. She was so beautiful like this, but Michela was more to me than some cheap lust. It was one thing to play; it was another to look at people like I looked at Michela when I was in an unofficial commitment to her. I loved Michela, not her body, although yes her body was pretty. I cared more about the soul, and this strange moment, in a strange office building to produce bondage, was the day I learned how to control my lust.



I walked over to Alexandra and motioned for Ashley to help me. Together, we untied Alexandra one rope at a time. Like friends reunited, because in a sense we were, we untied each and every single one of the ropes in perfect teamwork until Ashley unknotted the simple gag.

It all ended with cheesecake. This was more than cheesecake though. The photos after the shoot revealed something: the birth of a kinkster. Alexandra was in love with her new job and wanted more of it in a deeper way, the kind of manner in which I knew I could help her.

“Alexandra, you like this work, don’t you?” I asked her.
“Yes, I love it. It’s so exciting. I love the feeling of being a damsel-in-distress,” she admitted.
“You know something? My friends here, except Kenny, we play bondage games at home, too.”
“Really?! You mean I’m not a weirdo?”
“No, no! You’re quite normal even if unusual. We’ll talk after, OK?” I smiled at her.
“Sure,” she smiled back, the smile of true friendship, “I’d love to talk about it.”

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 46: More Programs
Thursday, April 4, 2013

Today was the day that convinced me to go to college.

I complained a lot about some of the programming because it was a lot of “motivational” bullsh-t from people who either said “You’ve failed society” or “Society failed you” without ever saying “You can rise above this! This doesn't have to define you!” This speaker was a psychiatrist who worked at another juvie in Minneapolis, and she shared with us lessons she learned from working there that she thought would help us. Much of it was in my mind but never said by an adult.

“Make meaningful friendships with your podmates. Help each other out of the hole.”
“Volunteer to do jobs; doing good makes you feel good.”
“Say how you feel to a guard or a podmate who cares about you.”
“Be grateful for each day you have.”

It was good to hear someone reinforce our thoughts and feelings of how to fix our lives.

Some of us spent our time a little differently.

“Father,” Ashley shuddered, “forgive me, for I have sinned.”
“Ashley, what is on your heart this week?”
“I’ve been perhaps dishonest with my podmates.”

——————————————————————————————

Kendra got off easy with blue jeans, closed toed beige heels, and a t-shirt. Steve decided he was going to do a film with this one, so I tied up Kendra really well this time. I tied her wrists and elbows and then tied her legs in five places. I took her black bandana off her head, stuffed it in her mouth, and sealed her mouth with strips of yellow duct tape. We parked her on a barstool in an unfinished corner of the building.

She was so cute in bondage, and I mean it that way. She was cute and innocent, just like Jenny, a girl who was a bit softer and more easily loved than Kenny. Inside, both were wonderful. I love both of them, to this day, for different reasons. That pitiful gaze was beyond words. Truly, this girl was a natural talent for bondage, and I enjoyed pulling that shirt up to reveal her lack of a bra underneath it. Kenny, you were so fun when you were a naughty girl back when we were just an unloved band of misfits, and then maternity ended a lot of it.

Tits out, my friends.

She squealed and squirmed, and Steve took photos while Marcy took a video of the natural, who needed no coaching to know what to do. She wailed a lot and showed off her bust and belly for her adoring fans, and within two minutes both videos and photos were done. Marcy walked up to Kendra and untied her while Steve took more photos. They even posed with Kendra smiling and Marcy pretending to be tying up her elbows.



What mattered more was that throughout the scene Michela slowly regained her composure. It’s not easy for her, but she took it like a champion. Most of all, she didn’t stare even for a moment. She was fully in control of herself. To this day, Michela still stares, but it only happens in those quiet moments at home when she can get lost in her own head. At this time, though, it was but a little triumph in which we quietly reveled by smiling at each other.

Kylie was watching all of us. Mary-Ann quietly enjoyed watching her best friend. Ashley was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the situation, and Alexandra marveled in discovering her kinky side. Kylie saw all of it, especially Ashley. Ashley, you had a guardian angel, but you didn’t find it in the person whom you thought it would be.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 47: That Distinctive March
Monday, April 8, 2013

“Come on! 1-2-3-4! That’s it!” the guard orders us along, more to keep us in line.

We’re not expected to march perfectly like soldiers as long we have proper posture and keep up with the rest. It brought order to my life though, I didn't like filing in and filing out and keeping in position or in line. I hated the sound of our sockless feet clanging against the grate. Each day had that same start. After breakfast, it was the same 15 minute break of free time, 30 minutes of quiet time, and then the guard telling us the door was opening.

I stepped out first as F09 and went to the far side of the green grated metallic walk, the side with the railing and turned to the right. Michela is on the wall side of the walk. Upon orders, I start to march down the walk, the metal clanging. At the wall, I turn left and continue across the room and down the stairs, turning again, down the remaining stairs, turning left again, going between the tablea, turning left once more, and filing in behind F07 as we exit into the corridor and turn to the right. Down the hall we go with F01 behind E15 and G01 filing in behind F15, Mary-Ann.

It's a chilling thing to do, and we do it out to gym, school, lunch, and dinner, and we do it back as well. To this day, Michela, Mary-Ann, Kylie, Ashley, and I do such things in rhythm, often even walking behind someone we know just like that.hat.

——————————————————————————————

“Is it my turn now?” Michela asked me with an eager smile.
“Nope!” Steve cackled, “Let Miss Kylie go first. Marcy picked out a charming outfit for her!”
“Here you go!” Marcy handed me a roll of bright blue duct tape.
“Ooooohhhhh, Kylie. Look, Michela, she wants a threesome,” I encouraged my lover.
“Haha! Thank you,” the dirty blonde smiled back at us, “Cool off, you two. Like my pumps?”
“I just love your heels!” Michela was learning the fashion lingo, “They’re too high for pumps.”
“Hee hee hee!” Mary-Ann laughed as only she could, “You got burned, and so did I!”
“Cheesecake time,” I pointed to the taped cardboard on the floor of the warehouse.

Dirty blondes and pinup shots are a perfect pair, and this one is no exception. I decided to push Kylie’s limits for the scene by taping her elbows along with her arms. I tied her legs in the usual three places, and I really squeezed on her torso so that her tits were obvious even if we couldn’t see them. What a prude! I kid. Kylie’s sweet, and she didn’t want to be exposed.

Michela and I liked Kylie as our third cog in the wheel, but we didn’t realize that someone else was looking at her in the same manner. Kylie required more coaching because she tended to get lost in her own thoughts and not focus much on the camera. She could do what Steve wanted as well as any of us, but she was blissful. Just because Kylie was scarred and traumatized didn’t mean that she didn’t know how to be happy, and she saw more of her games at home than her games with us in modeling, mostly because she wasn’t exposed!

“How do you and Michela do it?” Ashley asked me while enjoying Kylie’s scene.
“Do what? Love each other? Live together? Model? We do lots of things,” I turned to her.
“How can you model bondage when you were both decimated by bondage?”
“I liked bondage before. Greg knew nothing before me. For my birthday, on my request, he put my socks in my mouth and taped me up. We roleplayed a CNC scene, back when he still had at least a little care for me, and we had amazing bondage sex. Then came the NC scene that ended in me being tied to that water line in the basement.”
“Exactly, I don’t get it!” Ashley was struggling with something that wasn’t bondage.
“I don’t know,” Michela took Ashley’s hand, “Daddy’s bad, but bondage is kinky and fun with a good person who doesn’t do bad things like using bad gags or putting their junk in me.”
“I know a lot about bad people,” Ashley sighed, “But not about putting their junk in me.”

I walked over to Kylie so I could do the splendid honors of humiliating her in a different manner from that to which we were accustomed. Yeah, I pulled her pants down instead, revealing both her black hose and her red panties with black lacing. She yelled at me quite a bit for this.

Kylie was so pretty though. Just because she wasn’t a fitness junkie like some of us didn’t mean she wasn’t beautiful or didn’t have a nice figure. In fact, she had a lot of natural beauty in both her shape and her looks. She didn’t need makeup to be a dish that could grab eyes.

The anger and surprise at her unusual exposure came through in the photos, memorable photos of a hottie in distress. She was truly helpless at the moment, and I put her heels back on her feet so I could stand her up and take the chair away.

I couldn’t believe it. Ashley backed away and scratched herself? She struggled now with what I knew had to be indeed some kind of sexual attraction to girls. She didn’t realize any of us even noticed that because she so casually stepped back in order to do it. She hated her sexuality in the same way that Michela hated hers. Back then, I couldn’t put myself in the position of being that distraught because of such deep convictions.

Yet here we all are in 2024 still struggling. Contrary to what some want you to believe, things of this nature do not magically vanish, but with a little grace we sometimes escape temptation. We have come a long way, and I couldn’t have done it without my friends.

Look at Kylie, for example. What a dish she is! She wasted no time in ditching her heels again, and she looked so good in her bondage. Once she’d done some rocking and rolling, Steve ended the shoot and asked for me and Michela to follow him so that Michela could get tied up.



——————————————————————————————

Interlude 48: Letters from Home
Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Watching Michela read and write letters was quite the privilege. Each was hand written using a variety of colors. Drawings and such filled the pages as well. Michela hadn't colors, but she did try to be as artistic in her responses. She couldn't quite do it, but in one letter she had Kylie draw a picture of me that stunned me in its accuracy.

Kylie struggled so badly with depression that it seemed unreal. Her letters from home were also frequent, but she kept them secret from us. As it turned out, she was hiding TUGs not knowing I was quite the TUG master myself. She was artistic in more ways than people, and occasionally I caught a sneak peek of a butterfly or a flower.

These girls were loved so much. I hadn't even seen my parents in over two months, and it ruined my psyche… forever. I guess now’s the time to explain a little bit. At Christmas in 2017, I went to Grandma’s house. She didn't tell my parents I would be there because she'd long understood I was not welcome in their lives. Well, when my mother saw me, she broke down first and ran up to me and hugged me.

In August 2018, I followed them to North Carolina and lived there for 10 months, struggling to get a job with a B.S. in psychology. I worked at a Best Buy down there and got to do shoots with Elizabeth Andrews and Lew Rubens. Yes, the scenes were like you would imagine, and I was in a happy spot for a change. I kept up my new struggle into becoming Roman Catholic, but then it all went downhill again.

My father wouldn't tolerate my religion and brainwashed my mom into hating me once again. I wasted no time booking a flight and suffering the problems of a short-notice flight. I quietly left while they were at work and spent my last night there in a hotel before flying home to move back in with the Palmeri's. Home is where the heart is. I have three homes: Grandma’s, the Palmeri’s, and mine and Landon’s.

I unironically married a man who was so receptive to my Catholicism he converted as well.

——————————————————————————————

“So, ya gonna tie me up?” Michela taunted me while she posed for Steve, “Gag me well?”
“I sure am!” I said with a smile while Marcy sorted out Kylie, to Ashley’s discomfort.
“Ya better do a good job. I might escape,” she entertained me so well.
“What would make you happy?”
“I…,” she winked at me, “After the other day, I want tape strips on my lips. No questions.”
“All right then. Shut up!” I slapped tape over her lips first before tying her up.

Before she could change her mind, I tied up Michela’s wrists swiftly and professionally. She was not getting a chance to deny me a chance to help her if I did this properly. A standard harness in the TAC style and the standard TAC leg bonds were just what Steve wanted for Michela. A pink long-sleeve T-shirt, a denim miniskirt, white pantyhose, and pink-and-white checkered heels brought it all together in gorgeous fashion.

I recalled the other day when Michela mutilated the picture of her father. Something happened at that time, when she was alone with her mother. She was the same Michela whom I tied up in the other scenes with cleave gags or the double-side tape and bandana OTM gags. Gone was the girl who was scared and afraid of the tape strip and ball gags. That’s not to say she suddenly loved a gag of that type but to say that she no longer feared them like she did before.

No instructions were needed for Michela Palmeri. She just did it without a single command. We were all used to it. It was hot in this part of the building, though, and we all started to sweat even though it was only in the lower 80s (Fahrenheit) today. When I exposed Michela, since we were not being filmed, she erotically squealed. I gave her another kiss right on the lips and stepped back.

“Why are you so horny?!” Ashley yelled at me now while being obviously aroused by Michela as well.
“Ashley, what’s wrong?” I felt the pain in her voice, “What’s bothering you?”
“You! You’re so overtly sexual in front of other people. Stop it! Please? Just because I turned 18 a few hours ago doesn’t give you a pass to be a pornstar before my eyes.”
“You know what?” I knew how to defuse a situation, “You’re 100% correct. There’s no excuse for it regardless of the company, actually.”
“That’s for sure,” Kendra never missed an opportunity to be helpful, “You need to stop. You’re going to hurt yourselves, girls. It’s fine to make a scene work now, but not the rest of the time.”
“Why can’t you be blissful and quiet like me?” Mary-Ann teased because her mind moved a mile per minute, “Just enjoying things without a care in the world.”
“Puh-lease!” the Napoleonic blonde rolled her eyes, “Get real!”

My duties included taking chairs away at the right time, and I took Michela’s away without even needing Steve to tell me to do so. After all those lovely profile shots, surely it was just what the sweaty Italian wanted! Steve, Kendra, and I all approved of Michela’s heels. Nothing is like my girlfriend, bound and gagged, and squatting while wearing high heels.

My friends were right that my duties, nay my honor, required I learn how to control my sexual urges. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, and how little I knew what stress I was causing Ashley, who had stormed off the set and back into the literal office space when she saw Mary-Ann heading in that direction.

Even lying on the floor, Michela was a hottie in distress. I mentally coached myself to cease my lusting. She was my girlfriend! It was hard not to lust, or was that a difference between us? She could look at me and just love me for me; I could do it back but not as naturally as she could. It was difficult for me in my slowly dissolving hedonistic mindset.

“Where’d Maddy Big Tits and the Birthday girl go?” Kylie finally came over, drinking water.
“They went inside,” I motioned, “I got a little too amorous for her comfort.”
“Cool it, Hannah. For real. I say it because I love you and her.”
“What do you mean?” I didn’t realize it, but she had solved the mystery of Uncle Gabriel.
“Look, I heard what Kendra said before, hard not to hear her. She’s right. For your own good.”
I looked at both Kendra and Kylie and nodded, “I’ll do it.”



——————————————————————————————

Interlude 49: Cold Metal
Wednesday, April 10, 2013

“It's so cold and metallic in here,” I said while changing into my long-sleeve uniform.
“Yeah,” Mary-Ann stood outside my cell, “Nice boobs. Incredible Sliding Securidoor. Cuffs. The toilet and sink here. The shower heads and drains. The cell doors. Gym equipment. All of the tables and chairs in the pods and dining hall. At least the program room chairs are plastic!”
“It's chilling in here to say the best I can,” I finished adjusting.
“It's better than home, though I wonder if people will hide from me for the rest of my life.”
“People only know you were inside if you admit it,” I said foolishly.
“Or if they read the newspapers.”

That was a chilling thought… someone reading about me in the newspapers. Me?! Really?! I shuddered at that, imagining people reading about the girl who was dealing crack and pot, among other substances, and how she took the fall for a boyfriend who never visited or called her once.

I looked at Mary-Ann and at the metal frame bunk bed that I shared with Michela and the metal fixtures holding it against the wall. I remembered the metal shackles that pinioned us during the trip to the optometrist. How embarrassing that was, but it was time not spent in the prison! Why it had to be so complicated, I do not know, but we accepted it with patience. Mary-Ann’s specs were cheap and plastic, not metal. Even our badge clips: metal. We were surrounded by it; don’t forget the bars in the windows!

How ironic is it that Mary-Ann can't stand the sight of blood, yet she is the first one to volunteer to be someone's nurse when they're not in an active mess? I guess she overcame that one…

——————————————————————————————

Last, but not least, it was Ashley’s turn. Marcy approached Ashley and gently began to turn her around. A loud whimper came out of the damsel-to-be, and the suddenness of it caught me off guard. I came over to the young girl and took over. I gently turned her to face me, and that was when I first suspected that she was afraid of women for some reason. I was far from making the intelligent conclusions that Kylie made though. Here in the air conditioned office building was a lot better than that steamy warehouse.

“Ash, let’s do some cheesecake first, OK?” I suggested.
“Please? I would be more comfortable being beautiful before I am made more beautiful.”
“Happy birthday,” I emphasized the friendship between us for her comfort.
“Thank you, Hannah,” she looked down at me, “I’m sorry for my outburst.”
“You’re fine. Steve, can we show the world how lovely our debutante is?”
“Surrrrrre. Anything to make things run more smoothly,” Steve answered kindly.
“Then, Hannah, you or Steve will tie me up, right?” she asked again with a little worry.
“Certainly,” Kylie interjected, “Hannah will tie you up; don’t worry.”
“Steve can barely tie the knot in a cleave gag,” Marcy teased her own husband.

Feast your eyes on the latest work of art to join the modeling Bondagettes of Pod F, Miss Ashley Calland, who posed for the cutest cheesecake shots before I took some clothesline in order to tie up the beautiful young lady. She was quite calm in my arms and let me do anything without any whimpering or complaining; overall, she seemed comfortable with me doing this. What did she have against Marcy?

It was classic TAC bondage: I tied her wrists, made a nice harness with ropes on either side of her tits, and trussed her legs like I was tying two beams together in three places. For her debut as a beautiful damsel in distress, I stuffed a white bandana into her mouth and used a beige scrap of fabric to hold it all in. She took a seat on a metal folding chair.

“Happy birthday,” Mary-Ann repeated the words and beamed with pride at her protégé.

The newest hottie in distress leaned forward just as Steve desired and grimaced a little bit at her first professional bondage. There are always nerves when you’re doing this the first time even if you have experience with bondage. She listened carefully until she was comfortable with doing what was asked of her.

She was quite comfortable with the leaning, especially the times she had to hold herself in the air for a minute or two. The striped magenta, reds, and pinks on the turtleneck were perfect on her, and the brown skirt made an excellent match. Black high heels rounded it off. Something funny happened right there on the set: Ashley discovered her favorite way to be dressed. Yes, Best Buy has a uniform policy, but her personal wardrobe consists of skirts, pantyhose, and high heels. I’d say she took the extra step that Michela wouldn’t take in some regards, like the heels and hose. I rarely see Michela in heels outside the courtroom. Even in the halls of Mudville Juvie, if she has her choice, like when she’s sitting in the office or going to a pod to talk to a prisoner whom she’s defending or talking to a parent, she’s 100% not wearing heels and most likely not wearing hose either. Beautiful girls they are though!

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 50: More Details about the Cell
Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Windows are a thing I haven’t mentioned at all, really. There’s a lot to be said about construction in this joint, but I’ll highlight the one aspect in particular. Each cell had two windows, about the height of the beds, so there was one for each bunk. If you figure there was 3 feet of clearance, to allow for bigger girls like Michela, then the window was about 48 inches wide. I’m giving you some new figures to look at so you can better understand the layout here. Our sweet Ashley is a competent, self-taught programmer.



Our table and benches are attached to the wall. They fold up and down via hinges and are made out of cold aluminum. They also have folding legs in the middle and at the far edge to support our weight. The lavender is the shelf where we keep our few things, like the black long-sleeve shirt when we're not wearing it. The toilet and the sink are a big stainless steel canister. The exterior walls are two feet thick, and the interior walls are one foot thick. The orange at the bottom is the door to the cell. It's a glorious 10 feet wide by 15 feet deep. This was Michela’s bedroom for 3 years and 9 months.

——————————————————————————————

It was a typical rope job for TAC. They had an image that had made them popular and rarely did that image get broken like in Kendra’s scene. I take the girl off the chair. She hops in place and crouches, and then she drops to her knees. She leans back, and finally she’s sitting on the floor. I love the imagery myself. Ashley did it without questions.

“Isn’t she a doll?” Kylie asked me while we watched the new girl do her stuff.
“Yeah, she is,” Michela interjected, now free thanks to Marcy.
“Man, she’s got this down pat. Maddy, you should be proud of yourself!” I said.
“I am! I told her what to expect, and she took my words seriously, unlike some people,” Maddy then sighed, “I shouldn’t talk about childhood right now.”
“We can talk after. We’ll be fine, Maddy. It’s a good day, right?” I wrapped an arm around her.
“Yeah,” her frown was replaced by a grin, “Maddy Big Tits is in the house!”
“All right, honey, let’s see those tits,” Marcy put a hand on Ashley’s shoulder.
“No!” the girl responded quite audibly.
“Let’s go,” Ashley began to pull back.
“NOOOOOO!”
“Let her be for just a second. I want some shots,” Steve said, “Get on your knees and lean back.”
“Mmmmmm!” Ashley did what was wanted of her for just a few more shots.
“I’ll expose her. I think she wants me to do it and not you, is that right?” he asked her kindly.
“Mmmm mmm,” she nodded in a fleeting moment of panic.

So Steve took Ashley while Marcy took the camera. Ashley grimaced quite naturally for Steve while he crushed her tits, and she even burst in a moment of laughter. She liked being handled by him, unlike Michela and I who still weren’t 100% comfortable with him so much as being in the room when we change outfits even though he’ll inevitably see us without it! I went over and tied a rope from Ashley’s neck to her thighs.

“She’s doing great,” I look at Steve, “Go ahead, Marcy. Try again.”
“You ready now?” Marcy was so kind in how she handled us during shoots.
“NO! NO! NO!”
“Back off,” Steve said, “I’ll skip the floor shots and just get her on her knees.
“All right,” Marcy backed away, “We don’t want to cause a fuss at all.”

Now Ashley was clearly disturbed. Her character had broken completely, and a fearful, trembling little girl took her place. What was the link between Marcy and this though? My thought was a bad interaction with a female employee in juvie, much like Kylie and I had experienced. Either way, her peace was disrupted.



“Come on, Ashley,” Marcy tried a third time, “I won’t hurt you.”
“EEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” I’ve never before or since heard a girl shriek so loudly.
“Ashley! What’s wrong?!” Mary-Ann started to go over to Ashley.
“That does it!” Kylie stood up, “Everybody, out! Now!”
“She just tapped out,” I stared at the hyperventilating but lucid young girl, “Ashley?”
“Exactly. Everyone out,” then, once alone, Kylie looked at Ashley, “You’re safe now. I know you want to tie me up, play with me, and fall asleep cuddling me while I whimper into a gag.”

Kylie walked over to the youth and stood by her, whispering kind words of reassurance. She knelt down by Ashley and calmed the girl down by her behavior. Kylie understood; she knew it all too well. She’d been taken many times over that horrifying period of 12 months, left unable to have children. The face was familiar to her because it was a face that she’d seen on herself so many times.

There was sympathy indeed. Kylie had lost her virginity, innocence, and womanhood. Ashley had lost her innocence and her parents. They were different, but they had the same source. This was not an easy topic to broach, but Kylie knew she had to do it. Birthday or not, Ashley needed to know that someone loved her, understood her, knew her secret, and wanted to help in any way she could. Once Ashley relaxed, Kylie asked her a simple question.

“Aunt Gabrielle, am I right?”

——————————————————————————————

When Ashley spanks Hannah to the tune of “Happy Birthday,” the one pinning Hannah will be…

(A) Michela
(B) Mary-Ann

I vote A!! I love the schedules lots of quiet time!!.

A and more great work

hafnermg wrote: 10 months ago I vote A!! I love the schedules lots of quiet time!!.

Mind you that quiet time is perhaps the time that brings the prisoners the most psychological suffering. They're in their cells, sometimes locked in there, and not allowed to talk to each other. It's like being grounded and sent to your room for 4-9 hours every day.

Chapter 012: Ashley’s Birthday Part 3 - Her Friends
Saturday, June 13, 2015

“Ashley, it was Aunt Gabrielle, wasn't it?” Kylie asked her again with pain in her voice.

Ashley sat in silence with the gag in her mouth and looked down at the floor. She was under no obligation to answer the question, but at this point she knew she could trust Kylie. More than a friendship was being offered here; this was an opportunity. Ashley liked the sight of a bound and gagged Kylie, and she wanted to play with the smaller blonde. Leaning back in the chair, Ashley nodded to confirm Kylie's question.

On paper, it all made sense. Ashley disliked the female prison employees but not the male ones. She asked if Steve would bind her instead of Marcy before asking if I could be the one who tied her up. She didn't like when Marcy helped her undress, and she grimaced when I exchanged that kiss with Michela. She was leery of us girls who came through Pod F and was leery of Xandra too. That’s what made me and Luisa different in her life. Kylie had put it all together.

“What would make you happy?” Kylie asked the pensive girl and pulled out the simple gag.
“That you understand makes me happy. We will talk more after, oui?”
“OK,” the blonde smiled, “Your secret is my secret, OK?”
“Kylie, you will have to tell Hannah. I cannot,” she squirmed, “I’m scared. Not today.”
“Anything else you would like before I let the others back in here?” the blonde was so kind.
“Yes, that you kiss me like Hannah kisses Michela and untie me enough that the scene is done.”
“Happy birthday,” Kylie brought their lips together in a highly sexualized manner.
“Thank you. It took a lot of effort to save this until I was an adult.”
“You were taken by a woman, yet you…?” the sweet girl began untying the captive.
“Male or female, when bondage is involved, it excites me. Tante Charlotte never tied me up.”
“Girls are about to go wild. Just remember we love you and won’t hurt you, unlike Tante. Don’t forget that one of Reardon’s goonies was a woman.”

Kylie calmly untied the girl and waited a good 2 more minutes of them enjoying the company of a girl who strongly understood her pain. Ashley had never considered that reality: that meant all of us who’d been taken aside by Mr. Reardon– me, Kylie, Kendra, and Mary-Ann– had all been taken by a woman, too. It was a great weight off her chest, and Ashley’s fear of Marcy and her strange reaction to seeing Michela and I kissing so sensually had all made sense to Kylie. When had the blonde beauty started piecing these things together?

While off the camera, we had all changed. Since there would be videos to go with these scenes, I had dressed up as well despite me not being on the list to get tied up. I was assigned a blue plaid skirt, a blue long-sleeve t-shirt, and white heels. Naturally, I added a blue bandana headband!

“Mr. Moreau, during the next scene, would you… fondle me?” Michela’s boldness shocked me.
“Only if that’s what you really want.”
“If it’s mindless for the camera, I should be able to handle it from anyone,” she looked down.
“Are we ready to ‘go wild’ then?” I asked my best friend and looked into her eyes.
“Yes, we are, whenever Ashley is ready. Are you ready to tie us up?”
“Am I ever!”
“Just no ‘Crazy Annie’ today, OK?” Marcy smiled when she asked that.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 51: More Details about the Pod
Friday, April 12, 2013



Bottom of the pod. The orange slots on the sides are the doors to the Pod itself. The left is the Incredible Sliding Securidoor that connects Pod F to the rest of the prison. The right is the door to the pod’s courtyard, a lovely patch of grass. Just think, they loved us so much they gave us a 15 foot high concrete wall 2 feet thick and topped with barbed wire to ensure no one could get into it. Sarcasm! Stay with me here.

The thick gray walls are two feet thick, and the black ones are a foot thick. The floor is a nasty lavender industrial carpet, but the color was nice. You can see our so called “lounge chairs” which were wider and padded. We sat in those typically while reading, watching TV, and for mandatory all-pod announcements and lectures. You can also see four tables and chairs. Those really were yellow, unlike the “lounge chairs.” The green with the bands is the staircase up to the second level.

There were 2 spaces at the phone booth, and by the showers you’ll see two drinking fountains. The white band by the left side was the screen that contained things like our daily schedule, the time, announcements, and the scheduled programs for the week.



Now the top view. First, we have the green for the walkway. Second, we have the yellow bands for the windows that allow light to come in. The walkway, windows, and cells and shower are all the second floor has to offer. The rest is coming through from the lower level.

This was our “home.”

“Mr. Lee,” I asked sheepishly during a break, “Would you mind telling me another story?”
“Since you asked so nicely, let me tell you a story from when I was a patrol officer.”

The story was a fascinating one, the story of how he was asked to arrest a little girl, a girl named Mary-Ann, to bring her to prison to teach her a lesson about running away from home. I turned towards M.A. and frowned in my heart even then knowing how much my friend had suffered. It was a good thing Mr. Lee told me that story because even then I knew I had a friend for life.

——————————————————————————————

Ashley was a cute schoolgirl in a darkly colored plaid skirt. A red long-sleeve sweater was over a white button-up shirt, of which only the collar was visible. Pantyhose and white heels were the winning choice for sure. A black barrette held some of her hair back.

"Take her,” I pointed to Ashley.
“All right, boss,” Michela approached the birthday girl.
“What do you want?!” Ashley asked in shock.
“You owe me some money, and you haven’t paid up. Now you’re paying up!” I grab her collar.
“Hold still!” my girlfriend bossed her around.
“I’ll pay! I’ll pay! I promise!” she tries to escape the grip.

Ashley is ridiculously strong. She started on weight machines at 11 years old and never looked back after that. She can hold her own against Michela, and the result was that one of the straps of the big matte red ball gag twisted when I gagged her with it.

At this point, you know how I roped her: ankles, knees, thighs, wrists, and simple harness. Girls had gone wild, and Ashley Calland, now the lovely Geneviève, was the first victim of the day. I loved tying up Ashley, and there are few people who make a kidnapping as fun as she does.

Just look at the face she makes when we plop her down on the chair. This girl is truly a damsel in distress! Oh, my goodness, what fun she is. Friendship with Ashley was a real gift, one I’ve endeavored to never take for granted, and it’s been 9 years out of prison plus 2 years in prison of being loved by a girl who is almost angelic in her personality when she’s at her best.

Ashley obeyed every single one of Steve’s commands for the camera because he’d be back for a part 2 of the film after the photos were done. In the meanwhile, the rest of us discussed plans for who should be tied up in what order and why in trying to make a theme amongst the films. What I didn’t know was the special bond that had formed between Ashley and us, mostly Kylie, in that brief respite when Ashley and Kylie were alone.

What do I mean? I mean that Ashley was something fascinating: bondage-sexual was the term it would become entitled. When bondage was involved, she became aroused in a way she wouldn’t under ordinary circumstances. Even with boys, Ashley is loath to get into anything dirty without bondage being involved in the activities. She was trying to grab eyes, in other words.

Even propped up on that plastic crate, Ashley was cute as a button and doing everything desired of Steve to his satisfaction. When she stood up, she winked at Michela; we were still clueless at the reality of Ashley’s past. Steve encouraged Michela to go over, and Michela turned to me and pointed at herself for confirmation before she did it. Yes, Ashley’s first public kiss was with my girlfriend of all people. It was part sexual, part acting, and I think she knew what it would spur.

Michela took the chair away with her when she walked away from the scene. Ashley hopped in place, not knowing the kiss had been briefly caught on video. This was going to be part of one of those thrillers that saw me involved as either the bad girl or the victim. Michela also took the pleasure of making Ashley sit down on the carpet.

I see London; I see France;
I see Ashley’s underpants.

Michela was enjoying being the enforcer to my gangster. I unfortunately had experience with the art of demanding payment from junkies who were my and Greg’s customers. Ashley, rather, my victim Geneviève squirmed on the floor in perfect fashion. She was brave enough to reveal her underwear for real when Steve dared her to hike up her skirt so far.



“Hannah, do you think I can do it?” Michela asked me off camera.
“I can’t believe you want to try.”
“I’m not asking him to screw me,” she whined, “I just trust that he will stay professional.”
“Well,” I looked away from her, “It’s up to you if that’s what you want.”
“December 3, 2006 was little Michela’s first goal in a league that allowed checking.
“Go for it; I’ll be right here,” I had to give her my trust, “Remember it’s a job.”

Ashley, Ashley, Ashley… you’re so freaking cute when you’re bound and gagged. You knew it; Kylie knew it; Michela knew it; we all knew it; you three knew it differently though. I couldn’t enjoy a threesome with you, but I knew the day was coming when I would find you and Michela in an awkward position. Michela was perfect for it already in her own purple plaid skirts and a gray three-quarter sleeves button-up knit sweater that was already partially unbuttoned.

You’ve made me proud, Ashley. You’ve impressed Mary-Ann. You entertained Kendra when you showed off your feet. You remained in character throughout the shoot, showing a distraught look from start to finish. You sold this one to perfection, but it’s time now to make a second part to your debut film.

“Mmmmmm!” Ashley groaned for the camera.
“Where is my damned money?!” I grabbed her by the collar and knelt down beside her.
“Ah’ll hay! Ah thai tho!” she insisted as before.
“Not good enough. Tell me where it is,” I shake her collar, “Hogtie her. She ain’t talking.”
“All right,” Michela eagerly did the evil deed.
“Ah’ll hay -ou! Ah’ll hay -ou!” fell on deaf ears.

Ashley’s debut film ended with about 4 minutes of film of her struggling in her hogtie, trying to desperately escape it.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 52: The Guard Box
Friday, April 12, 2013

The guard box was a place of much power. It was a large space in an enclosed box with glass all around it. I assume the glass was bulletproof and done so the guards could see on all sides. For their protection, the doors to the box could only be opened and shut from the inside or from the control room. Inside there, the guards had hydraulic lift stools, a computer station, controls for the cell doors, lighting control, PA systems, basic first-aid supplies, and more. They also had the TV remote, which mattered much to one girl, who nearly every night walked up to the grating in order to ask a question.

“Are the Wild playing tonight?” she'd ask hopefully.
“I’ll check. Yes. Would you like me to put it on?” Mrs. Copley responded.
“Please?” the pitiful voice responds.

How little I realized then just how much those hockey games helped Michela to regain the love lost when her father stole the joy of hockey from her life. She could enjoy the games again, but she really wished she were cuddling on the couch with Sofia again. That day came, though, and it was worth the wait. I cuddled Michela during many games; I cherish those quiet moments so much from our time as a couple. I was Michela’s unofficial girlfriend for 4 years and still shared a bed with her when in Minneapolis until 2021.

——————————————————————————————

“So, girl,” I asked Kendra while tying her, “Where’s the money?”
“I told you that I don’t have any money! Get off me, you b-tch!” she snarled back.
“Girls who don’t pay for their products become the product, capisce?” Michela taunted her.
“No, I don’t capisce. I promised you three months!”
“And I only said you had one. Give her a little dainty,” I motioned for Michela to take over.
“You motherf-cking witchmmphhh!” she ate my socks with secret pleasure.

Kendra was in the electrical room on a folding chair. Her ankles were tied to the chair, and her thighs were tied together. Her wrists were tied in front and to her thighs. Her thighs were tied to the seat of the chair, and her torso was secured to both the back and the seat. Double-sided tape and a black bandana OTM gag held the socks in her mouth.

What. A. Hottie. White knee socks, white heels, a red-and-black plaid skirt, a transparent black bra, and a red button-up shower weren't hot enough alone. Kendra’s beautiful hair was down and all around her. The brown-eyed girl was a pitiful sight, begging for mercy with her eyes. That, of course, didn't stop me from unbuttoning her shirt.

I had no idea then that Mary-Ann and Kendra would be semi-professional or all the adventure it would bring to us. Mary-Ann never left Minnesota until 2019, when she traveled to visit Jenny, who had gotten married. That summer saw us make a trip to Florida as part of a crazy paid trip to make a pirate bondage film that saw some crazy feats on our parts. It was the first truly great work for Kendra after her battle with the brain tumor. Those were her self-indulgence of her still persistent desire to work with M.A. despite her personal desire to retire for good.

Kendra really enjoyed being an actress, and she and Mary-Ann always smile when sharing their exploits. We make that trip to Florida each year to make a new pirate film because the owner of the boats is a huge fan of Mary-Ann’s work, and she runs a booth at the fetish convention. Some years, one or more of us is absent. In 2020, both Kendra and Mary-Ann couldn't go; in 2021, it was Kylie. You get the idea. We have fun with it, but Kendra stopped going once baby number three’s conception became known.

“All right, babe, let's see these,” and then it's tits out, my friends.
“Mmmmm!” Kendra fights as much as she can without rocking the chair.
“Your tits will make me some nice dough, especially since I don't have to pay you for this!”
“Mmmmm!” she glared at me and looked genuinely afraid.

Kendra could convey genuine distress very well, and remaining in character like this was best if a good photoset were to come out of it. This girl was a true artist of the field, but she exchanged it for a better life. No one is a better mother than she is; her kids are raised well. Ah, maternity, I love it myself. I write this having just celebrated my grandmother’s 73rd birthday.

Looking pitiful, struggling against ropes, and making great gag talk were all things that I could guarantee from Kendra. Only Kendra could pull a bandana gag to her neck after she was freed and drink a Red Bull while slowly untying her own legs. That was Kendra the bondage model for you though.



“Am I hot enough?” she coyly asked Steve while posing for cheesecake shots.
“We're gonna need those big fans for sure,” he responded, “Because it was hot enough before.”

Kendra was such a babe, and I fantasized of the day where I could put those locks in a hair tie to see how she'd react. She was a proprietary individual, so I doubt she would care for it. She was cheesecake dynamite though. Nice tits, right? She was so freaking sexy I couldn't believe it.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 53: The Guards
Friday, April 12, 2013

Four teams of guards were on a rotating shift schedule. Mr. Edmunds and Mrs. Copley were the best team. Mr. Lee was the best male guard, but Mrs. Anderson was cold. Mr. Hoffman and Ms. Werner were a solid combination. Mr. Grant and Miss Morris were the worst.

Three shifts per day; 8 hours per shift. Each shift scored the girls in the Pod. There was a shift score, which was just a simple case of scoring 0-3 where 0 was being a douche and 3 was being an angel. You would think, if you look at the shift scores, that would be easy. Six guards means six scores for a maximum of 18. You had to average above 15 per 3 day window to maintain a IV ranking, which meant we had leeway for a bad day.

Miss Morris could be a monster. We hated when she had the rec time on a weekend because she would sometimes dock us a point for having too much fun while playing a game! Mrs. Copley and Mr. Edmunds, on the other hand, were guardian angels. Mr. Lee was probably, on paper, the best of all at his job; he enforced the rules, didn't get attached, but also was sweet as sugar. My gut instinct said that he and his wife were two of the Pod Angels.

“Mr. Edmunds, I don't feel good,” Ashley said that night during Free Time, “Do you have an antacid?”
“I’ll ask the nurse to bring some down. I heard you got canned ravioli at supper.”
“It was battery acid,” the French girl shuddered.
“All right. She'll be here by rec time, OK?”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No problem. That is one reason why I am here.”

Ashley always went to the male guard, but now you know why.

“Dear God,” she prayed by herself in her cell, “Help me to see my podmates as friends instead of monsters who might hurt me like Tante Charlotte.”

——————————————————————————————

Isn't Alexandra the sweetest? That's why I tied her up so well. She looked so cute in those pinup shots. That see-through blue top and the denim skirt were delightful, and the black open toed heels were tasteful. Control top pantyhose rounded out the program.

We were about to see how wild a girl could be.

“Why won't you pay up? It's been six months?” I demanded of Xandra.
“I decided one day that you were a crook, and your interest rates were too high,” she responded.
“You don't repay, then you become the product,” I grabbed her and began tying her elbows.
“Let go of me, you psychob-tch!” she started really fighting me.
“Hold still! Hey, gag her with this,” I hand her one of Kendra's old knee socks from before,
“Don't you dare!” she snarls and closes her mouth; she is too weak to escape my grip.
“Open widdddeeeeee,” Michela pinched her nose shut and easily pushed the sock into the hole.

Michela tied a pink bandana cleave gag to hold the sock in Xandra’s mouth. We made such a potent duo for doing this to these girls. The rest of the bondage was standard except for the big ‘V’ I added to the harness in order to accentuate those tits.

Mmmmm… tits.

Damn, look at that scowl. This girl knew, and knows, how to act pissed off better than anyone else I have met in nearly 10 years in this industry. Alexandra Watkins, a.k.a. Kaci-Lee, was an absolute hottie at this business, and my dear girlfriend noticed most of all besides Steve. Yes, it was instant wood for Michela, who was smitten in a dirty way by the looks and bondage. I’m so happy to report that instead of dirty games being the feature that today Michela is Xandra’s best friend and likewise Xandra is Michela's second best friend after me.

Alexandra clacked her heels on the floor and yelled into the gag for the camera despite this being a shoot at the moment. She was a good listener and did all Steve asks and even some things that he didn't ask. It all seemed to be going well until the cameras rolled so Xandra could slam those heels on the floor with a cause. She stood up, and that's when the fun began. We took the chair away, and at Steve's insistence M.A. posed for cheesecake shots on the plastic folding chair.



M.A. was a real floozy in this set. She had a velvety blue miniskirt, white stockings, white heels, and a white bra. She didn't even have a garter to hold the stockings in place, and a pair of black flowery panties has to suffice for you. This girl was really feeling the “hottie in distress” vibe in this set. It was time for girls to go wild!

“Gmmmm! UKKK!” Alexandra stands groaned into that sock.
“What on earth? Why did you tie her up?!” Maddy arrived on the scene.
“She owes me money,” I went over to Maddy and shoved her.
“You wanna help her repay?” Michela sexily held a coil of clothesline, “I’ll do it!”
“No questions. Just take her! Babe, shouldn't have messed with us,” I cackled maniacally.
“No, I don't want tooooomph!” she ate the other sock.

Foam core tape is great. It shows the lips, and it showed Maddy’s! Now, it was her turn to pose on the chair while we watched, and Ashley walked over to Alexandra and curiously studied this new figure in her life. There was still a lot of fear in our bondage-sexual girl’s eyes. Whatever had happened between her and Kylie shook her to the core, but she wouldn't talk.

M.A. was so great for photos. She was a pro now, and she needed no instructions to do the best job. She was tied like Xandra but without the elbows, and notice how the ‘V’ literally passes in between her tits! There's hot, and there's Mary-Ann Voisin natural 34DD floppy French titties. I took the chair away from her as well. There were hotties in distress on the floor!

“Mmmmm!” Mary-Ann groaned into her sock for the film.
“UKKKK!” Alexandra groaned into her own gag for it as well.

The plan was simple. Let them struggle together. Then we take one aside and threaten her while the other is getting photographed. Then we go really wild with things. You'll see how it went.

“Soooooo, ladies… Reconsidering your positions?” I knelt down by them.
“Mmmmm!” was their most inspiring response.
“We’ll make a pretty penny off the media we're getting off you two,” I point to Marcy’s camera.
“Mmmmm!” isn't the best response, but it's all they've got right now.
“This isn't enough though. It’ll take a good 3 scenes, and you have 1 outfit each right now.”
“Mmmmmmm!” and Alexandra hopped away.

Now, I had to follow her. This was the ruse so that Steve could photograph M.A. One thing you will see from these photos is that M.A. is tied up tightly. Those tits are really bursting forth from her body. She looks so pitiful there, begging you to untie her. She is such a sweetheart.



Alexandra wasn't. I had to follow after her with Marcy following me as well. She traveled out two rooms before I cornered her. She yelled into her gag a lot, but she was powerless against me. At this point, I didn't even have Michela because she and Kylie were in the warehouse part of the building with Ashley.

“Let's go,” I led her back to M.A., who was on her stomach.
“Mmmm!” I sit her down with M.A. and then expose M.A. Tits out, my friends.
“Noooooo!” M.A. hopped to the other side of the room.
“There there,” I squeeze her tits tightly, “You're a beautiful one.”
“Eh -e -o! Now!” she was a demanding girl.
“Not a chance, my dear… you're worth a pretty penny to me,” I said, and Marcy ended the film.
“Good stuff. You like being the bad guy, don't you?” Marcy saw through me.
“You’re right,” I go over and expose Xandra as well. Tits out here as well, my friends, “I have a little bit of real world experience.”
“Don't be so harsh on yourself,” Steve encouraged me.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 54: The Atmosphere of a Pod
Friday, April 12, 2013

There’s nothing like 20 feet ceilings to make a room feel spacious. When those walls are painted white concrete, it's not so special though. Oh, the base of the wall on the south side of the pod is covered by green grass and flowers painted on it; on the north side it’s got the door and stairwell to really make it look industrial. On the west side by the cell doors are positive sayings and the paper signs that say our name in big bold Courier New font in case the numbers and such aren’t enough for us to remember from being so badly dehumanized. The west wall was painted up in similar fashion to the south wall.

It’s pretty discouraging to have all those windows up there, where they provide warmth and their openings allow natural light to come into the pod from all sides, removing the need for lights for much of the day time unless it’s cloudy outside, but… it’s still prison. The inaccessibility of the windows and the heavy bars that cover them is grim and like a psychological bondage of a truly nefarious kind.

“Depressing, ain’t it, :arsson” Kendra stood beside me and looked up at the windows as well.
“Yeah, as much as they try to cover it up, it’s still prison for kids. Prison. Kenny, we blew it.”
“Unlike you, I’m determined to change. I mean it. Once I’m out of here, no more dime bags.”
“Kenny, Kenny, Kenny,” I wasn’t so positive, “You’ll find something else. I’ll go back too.”
“No, I will!” she confided in me, “I will win. I don’t want to be a junkie. I want to be free.”
“You’ll do it!” Mary-Ann popped up behind us, “I believe in you!”
“Thanks, Voisin. Now, get going. We’re already 10 minutes into rec time,” she bossed us a bit.

Thankfully, Kenny did win her fight to the extent that even the urges went away with time.

——————————————————————————————

It usually begins with cheesecake, and it began with cheesecake this time as well. Cheesecake is a wonderful dessert, and it's a wonderful photo. Who was sexier right now? Schoolgirl Michela or office girl Kylie? Kylie had a beige pleated miniskirt, white pantyhose, gold open heels, and a pink and cream striped turtleneck sweater.

“Hannah, may I help you?” Ashley asked me so sweetly, “I want to tie up Michela.”
“Yes. There is a style though that must be learned before you can tie people for TAC.”
“Ashley,” Steve interjected, “You escaped and got revenge on Michela. Sounds good?”
“It sounds great!” she bounced up and down, “This has been a wonderful birthday! I feel it will get better still.”

Nearly any girl can have her elbows tied if you try hard enough. Either way, Ashley handled all the limbs for me. Both had their legs tied in the usual three places. Then I tied the harnesses and added the elaborate cinches and connections. I could tell Kylie was extremely uncomfortable in the elbow bondage, and I knew this would be a short scene. The matte red ball gag was a natural choice, chosen by Ash. Michela got a solid navy bandana cleave gag; she liked her gag so much she bought a bandana like it to wear. With Steve’s agreement, Kylie was photographed first.

Kylie was a true hero for what she did for Ashley, and she had made herself more than that in the eyes of a girl who had truly lost everything. Her parents were dead, and the home she knew as a young girl was now somebody else’s because of the mortgage on the home meaning that a bank ended up with it when her dead parents and aunt no longer could make the mortgage payments.

The struggle against the tight bonds was readily apparent in Kylie’s face. She wasn’t a fan of the elbow bondage, but she could take it for the duration of a scene. I didn’t now, but at home, there were time limits imposed by her parents concerning how long any of the kids could be tied up. I wasn’t yet invited into Kylie’s private life, but that day was coming soon.

Kylie needed no instructions on where to put her feet or how to pose for the camera. All that she needed was the cue to move when she wasn’t sure how many photos Steve had taken. Kylie did not waste any time in throwing off her heels, and to my side I saw Kendra trying to study Kylie’s feet. I’m not kidding when I say Kendra has a thing for feet; she compares other feet to her own.

A few floor shots followed for Kylie. I’m not certain, but I think she liked the panty shots. She never complained about them like some of us, and she had no problem with having her pants so rudely pulled down like had been done in the first scene. She wasn’t as aroused by the ball gag as I thought she would be though.

“Hi, hot stuff,” I effortlessly rolled Kylie onto her stomach and spanked her on the butt.
“Ow!” she didn’t cry out like some of the others would. She and I could take our spanks.
“I’ll spare you some bondage shots and make you my spanking toy instead,” I repeated it.
“Hey!” she snarled at me and looked at me, but that was it for her; she looked away to orgasm.
“Oh, you are a little wh-re, aren’t you?” I exposed her actions in front of all.
“Nooo!” she wailed when I walloped her butt.
“You think about your actions! I’ll be back for more,” my tough girl routine was down pat.



On the other side of the space, on an identical chair, likely Steve and Marcy’s dining chairs, my girlfriend now had her own hostage photos taken, beginning with her slumping back in the chair and desperately testing her bonds. She squirmed so much between photos that Steve got a great shot of my rope work on Michela’s arms, the hottest arms I know.

Mary-Ann, Ashley, Kendra, and I all watched with eagerness while Marcy got Kylie on the floor and made sure she was comfortable for phase two. Ashley went over to Kylie for a moment and gave her a hug, a tight hug, a hug that announced to the world that Kylie had done something for Ashley that was special. Michela, on the other hand, was into her role and seemed to be “with it” more than ever. I wanted to cry with happiness to see my friends finding healing even if we all had a long way to go.

“Kenny,” I whispered while Michela did her thing, “Has Ash said anything off to you?”
“No, but look at her,” Kenny pointed to Ashley, who was walking over to the scene.
“Ashley, want to have some camera fun?” Steve called to the birthday girl.
“Sure, Mr. Moreau. What do I do?” the French girl almost skipped over from helping Kylie.
“Expose Michela and vamp her a little.”
“Vamp? I’m sorry; I do not know this word,” she blushed and turned away in embarrassment.
“Squeeze her tits. Kiss her. That stuff,” he kindly explained.

Ashley smiled at that. Girls were going wild again.

“Hello, my dear. Remember me? I did this to you,” Ashley sat on Michela’s lap.
“-et -e -o!” my girlfriend whined and watched Ashley unbutton her shirt.
“My naughty, you are not wearing a bra,” the dominant French girl squeezed Michela’s tits.
“MMMMMMM!”
“You should not have tied me up before,” then Ashley erotically kissed Michela’s lips.
“MMM!”

The vamp was in the house. Wow. Just wow. I have never seen a girl who could vamp another like Ashley Calland. She was so natural and genuine with it, yet she was an actress with it at the same time. Michela, Kylie, and I came across as obviously lesbian or bisexual. Kendra was a bit awkward, and M.A. so couldn’t fake it that it was hilarious at times.

“I know you kidnapped me before, but I’m in love with you,” she really upped the ante.
“Hey, so you escaped,” I walked over to Ashley on the set, “And you took my girl.”
“Hel- -e,” Michela whined into her ineffective gag while looking at me.
“You know what? She owes me money too. You can keep her,” I said coldly, “Deal?”
“Oh, really?” the French girl’s eyes lits up, “I will not say ‘No’ to this offer.”
“NOOOO! Unhie -e! Home hack here!” my girlfriend begged as I walked away.
“You’re mine forever,” the scene ended with Ashley kissing a weeping Michela.

Mary-Ann was great at looking pitiful; Alexandra mastered ‘pissed off’; Ashley commanded the fearful distress; Kendra was the jack of all trades; Michela owned controlled anger at her captor; I was the bump on the log, really. It was sad, because she really did experience harm in bondage, and she could find the emotions without associating the emotions with the memories of her harm. The image of Michela assaulting the photo of her dad came back to me, and I whispered as much to Ashley, who agreed that something changed that day.

Michela could masterfully cry with a scene, but she could struggle while wanting to destroy the person who had done this to her. I didn’t know this side of her existed. I was seeing something incredible happen though; I was witnessing the return of Michela the hockey star. Something I couldn’t describe in words because it was amazing would happen tonight though, after we were done with Ashley’s birthday party. I will tell you about it in the next chapter.



The first heel was gone, and the strong girl supported her own weight with her arms without any effort whatsoever. She was still hockey fit. She scowled for the camera in perfect fashion, but it was now time for the toughest part of the scene. Could Michela do it though? We all knew that it was a massive risk on Michela’s part, but we let her do it anyway.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 55: The Commissary
Friday, April 12, 2013

“Good evening, Miss Nichols,” Mary-Ann greeted the lady at the commissary desk.
“Hello, again, Mary-Ann. How’s your day been?” the sweet older lady asked.
“Wonderful, and yours?”
“Just perfect. What’ll it be tonight? Scrabble, Monopoly, a card game?”
“I think Scrabble and a package of Oreos,” M.A. passed her badge to the clerk.
“I’ll take a package of Peeps,” I pointed to the pink marshmallow chickens.
“All right. Oreos, Scrabble, and Peeps,” she kindly handed the things to us.

Behind us, Ashley got blue marshmallow bunnies instead of chickens using her points, and Kylie chose yellow ones. We were still in the Easter spirit thanks to Michela, Ashley, and M.A. all still being fired up because for them, as Roman Catholics, Easter was really a 40 day celebration.

“Miss Nichols is the best of all,” Kylie said when we sat down.
“Thankfully the commissary clerks are all like Pod Angels,” I said.
“I think Miss Nichols is a pod angel,” Michela said before returning to her hockey game.
“She actually,” Ashley struggled to say the words, “She’s my favorite clerk.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Mary-Ann took a seat, “But Mr. Carr was better. He retired between my second and third stretches here.”
“Yeah,” Ashley quickly agreed, “He was awesome!”

Michela was right. Miss Nichols indeed, years later, when I worked here, admitted to me that she was a Pod Angel. In the same spirit, I decided to become one as well. Once a month, when I am able to do so (a.k.a. not fresh off having a baby), I make a massive batch of cookies for all of the girls inside Mudville Juvie. They’re none the wiser, just like I didn’t know who my angels were. It’s a beautiful service that I hope helps a girl decide to leave a life of crime or to find the strength to keep on surviving.

——————————————————————————————

After effortlessly turning around for a few photos, the moment came for Michela: being fondled by Steve. Upon request, Michela got down on the floor and sat in a similar position as to how she had been on the chair, and I took the chair away while Marcy took over the camera. Steve grabbed Michela by the hair with his right hand and her right tit with his left and squeezed her as firmly or more firmly than I did in the bedroom when she and I were alone.

Michela groaned angrily when he forced her onto her stomach, but never did she cry. In fact, she remained in her angry character the entire time. We looked at each other in shock. Michela… I couldn’t believe it. She had done it. She’d done it! She had let Steve fondle her for the camera!

“Baby!” I couldn’t help myself and ran over to her, sat her up, grabbed her, and kissed her.
“Heh heh,” she smiled and looked at me while I unknotted the gag, “I did it, didn’t I?”
“You sure did. I’m so proud of you,” and then this time it was she who kissed me.
“Girls, please,” Kendra reminded us while Ashley was busy untying Kylie still.
“I love you so much,” my girlfriend peered into my eyes, “Thank you, Hannah, for loving me.”
“Let’s get you out of this.”

“You left me to escape on my own!” Alexandra finally arrived, “At least it was fun.”
“Sorry about that,” I had just finished untying Michela, “I thought you’d gone home.”
“Sorry if we’re a little too crazy for you,” M.A. spilled the beans, “Prison did that to us.”
“You weren't supposed to say that!” Michela groaned, “She didn’t know.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. In fact, I could tell you were prison girls the day I met Hannah.”
“WHAT?!” I snapped my head and peered into eyes that showed a deeper meaning of love.
“I know it might be hard to believe,” she said so sweetly, “But that doesn’t matter with girls as nice as you are.”
“She… she gets us,” Kylie started crying, “And she doesn’t care about it.”
“Alexandra, I knew you were precious the moment I saw you,” Michela wrapped our new friend in a massive hug.
“Xandra,” Ashley sheepishly expressed herself, “Would you like to come to my birthday party?”
“Come here,” the sweet girl spoke up, “I can see the desire for a group hug.”

That day, our little band of Bondagettes gained a new member who would bring us much delight over the years. The transformations that would arise on account of this girl were just beginning. We all cried, even Kendra, because we found our friend. Not a friend of a friend; neither a friend of mine from before prison. Alexandra was our friend who wasn’t a prison girl but loved us anyway, and she was ours to share with the world.

——————————————————————————————

Who will kidnap Alexandra during the birthday party?

(A) Michela
(B) One of the guests
(C) No one; Alexandra kidnaps one of the guests instead!

C curious to see which girl is kidnapped and how she reacts.

C!! I think I like quiet time a bit less now.

Well... umm... Two votes

I'm working on a new version of Chapter 13 as I attempt to adjust things according to my announcement.

You will make the right Choice @AlexUSA3