Matriarchal Vengeance (F+/F+)
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2025 4:27 pm
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Matriarchal Vengeance (F+/F+)
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Of course Aunt Darlene sought revenge. She'd visit me in Madison, Wisconsin (she lives over in St. Paul, Minnesota), unannounced, on a long weekend just to get revenge and remind me that all is fair in love and war and that I am the daughter of her beloved cousin (which, for the reminder, means I am actually her first cousin once removed, not her niece). She didn't wait that long to do that, and instead it all took place shortly after the events of Christmas Joy's.
I had dressed more like my usual self, with brown leggings and a matching bandana headband, a Western paisley patterned bandana to be specific for those who like exact visuals. A purple skirt swished about my ankles, and a pink t-shirt was sufficient for a day indoors despite the winter in the Midwest. It was simple and modest, just the way I liked it to be. Purple sneakers and brown crew socks were fairly standard flavors for me, since I and my cousins Joy all joyfully held that ignominious title of "puker," which meant we barfed when gagged with anything that wasn't spic and span! I'll get more into how these things were handled in TUGs.
I was enjoying Christmas break at Aunt Melissa's house. Aunt Melissa, for those who aren't too familiar with my family, is my mother's younger sister. Mom and Aunt Melissa married brothers who raised us with varying levels of strictness due to their prudish Protestant ways that believed that TUGs were pure sex games with no room for platonic or sisterly play despite my mom, Aunt Melissa, and Aunt Darlene having played the games since they were single-digit years old. What really matters is that I was 22 when I learned my first and second cousins played TUGs, and they likewise in the same moment learned that I and my older sister Zoe played. Unlike Mom, Aunt Melissa eventually won and was allowed to play TUGs with my cousins, and Aunt Darlene never had that issue and simply taught her daughters as they reached appropriate ages without any kind of opposition from her husband. Three different flavors all led to massive repercussions for us.
But, once the boys are away at work, the girls will play, and the only boy in Aunt Melissa's house is her husband. He had a job that gave minimal time off, which meant we girls had free reign of the house. What could possibly go wrong besides the joy of kidnapping TUGs are a brief break from TUGs so we could enjoy Christmas? I know I just gave you a thousand reasons for things to go wrong, and I can come up with at least a thousand more reasons!
"I got you, you sneaky, humiliating brat," Aunt Darlene stepped out from the shadows and put a water pistol against my head, "You're going to come with us ladies quietly, you understand?"
"Yes," I said, helpless as she wrapped her arm around my neck and dragged me away.
I was taken down to the same basement where she'd already been humiliated just a few days ago, and I was ordered to march down the stairs. At the fifth step, Aunt Darlene took a matte red ball gag out of her pants pocket and shoved it into my mouth, ending any protests or uproar that may have begun upon my whim. She didn't pull it too tightly, but if Aunt Darlene was around then it meant that my cousin Joy Samantha was around somewhere as well. That familiar basement was the site of many TUGs before this, and it continues to be the Henderson girls' battleground. Sure enough, Mom and Aunt Melissa were in the basement, ready with mounds of brown rope.
"UGGGHHHHH!" I tried to fight, but it was three of them against one of me, strong as I was.
"Sit down and be calm, honey," Aunt Melissa smiled at me, "Or we'll have to use…"
"Force," my mother held a wooden paddle, the kind used to break up ground meat.
"Just take a seat," Aunt Darlene said while they held me against the wooden furniture.
"GMMMMMM!" I figured that I'd enjoy being kidnapped more if I fought like hell.
My wrists were tied together behind my back and then also tied to the chair itself with a double purposed waist and crotch rope, but I promise that nothing will happen in this story. Here, crotch ropes are about restraint, although I am aware that they also have a dirty purpose. Humiliation is fun, though, and you haven't been humiliated until you've experienced a TUG at the hands of the three matriarchs. My hands and arms were almost completely useless, and I heard a familiar cry from the other side of the room. Without looking, I knew who was in distress against the pole. It was an overwhelming lineup of emotions, sights, and feelings, but it was a fun scene.
My cousin Joy Samantha, also lovingly known as Samantha, Sam, or Joy Sam, had pretty yellow blonde hair and blue eyes just like I have and just like our cousin Joy Alexandra has. Samantha is Aunt Darlene's daughter, and Alexandra is Aunt Melissa's daughter. We had so much fun with being cousins all born in 1996, and no one expected us to all grow up and be the only girls in the entire family who had yellow blonde hair and blue eyes just like Aunt Darlene alone had.
"NGGGGGG!" Samantha drooled off the head harness ball gag version of my ball gag.
Sam was standing at the infamous steel pole. The pole was a former support post drilled into the slab, but the pole was left behind for TUGs purposes under the guise of being a past artifact from the home's history after the basement renovations that turned the basement into a carpeted great room, a tiled fully functional kitchen, and a fully finished laundry room. My cousin, unlike me, was a champion of elbow bondage endurance, and her back was against the pole while her arms were wrapped around the pole and tied together at her wrists and elbows. She was calm despite the intensity of her position and the embarrassment to which she was being subjected.
I fought my captors, but they tied my ankles to the legs of the chair and then tied my thighs both below my waist and above my knees, both bonds under my skirt. A chest harness made my torso one with the back of the chair, and my mother, her sister, and her cousin tied me in unique ways I could feel and appreciate. Mom was the strongest, making sure the ropes were properly cinched so that the knots wouldn't easily come undone; Aunt Melissa was the sneaky one who did things like making sure knots were out of reach and tying my elbows to the adjacent spindles for extra restriction; Aunt Darlene was the sinister one, tying my legs together and adding the crotch rope to make things emotionally and physically intense for me.
Sam was the graceful one, the girly girl. She'd taken the bait and found herself tied to the pole in her heels and stockings. She'd worn white heeled boots, black pantyhose, and a brightly colored floral knee skirt with a pink blouse with a modest neckline. She was feminine and flashy but not showy. Her hair was long and free, just the way she liked it, and she was bound repetitively with a multitude of the white version of the brown rope that bound me, since Aunt Melissa's family all used white rope. Even our familial bondage games have rivalries! Mom, Zoe, and I preferred to use clothesline; Aunt Melissa and her daughters preferred white rope; Aunt Darlene and her girls preferred brown rope. As you can imagine, there has been a motive for many storylines with us.
I mentioned the arm bondage for Sam. She had the harness and similar double waist and crotch rope like I had, and her legs were tied together in 5 places—2 on her thighs and 3 on her lower legs. Each of the bonds used a long rope so that she could also be tied to the pole as part of each and every bond, not only binding her body in normal fashion but also fusing her to the steel pole. My cousin Sam was a beautiful young woman, and I miss the weekly, sometimes daily, texts that we exchanged to love, tease, taunt, and encourage one another. The memories remain with us!
"Mom," I heard Zoe's voice accompanied by the sound of gag talk struggle among my cousins, "I have that package you requested," and she came around the corner with that irrepressible gangsta of play, Joy Alexandra, Aunt Melissa's middle daughter, aided by Alexandra's older and younger sisters (respectively), Erika and Brooke, and Aunt Darlene's older daughter, Melody. That's why I wanted to tell you this story so badly, because Melody was involved for once.
Melody has an addiction to maternity. As of the writing of this story, she has already had 8 kids and is only 36, but this was back in 2018 when she "only" had 4 kids. She's a good mother, and it truly is her calling. Like her mother, Melody loves children and TUGs, and the two older girls are, in 2025, just getting into TUGs now, and they enjoy just like the older generations! They're a source of happiness in our lives, especially for Aunt Darlene who, at 60, gets the thrill of being a TUG buddy to her grandchildren, and she plans to retire from captivity and work at 65.
"MMMMMM!" Alexandra gave her best groan into the socks despite her inability to fight back.
Yes, she was the one with the clean pair of socks stuffed in my mouth. Alexandra was the rebel, but like all the Henderson relations she was still a girl underneath all that spirited resistance and her love of stereotypical gangster style fashion. I mean, of course, the fingerless gloves and the chains hanging out of the pocket of her jeans, both the gloves and jeans being black. Since we'd been brought into the familial games ("we" meaning "me and Zoe"), Alexandra had also bought into my bandana ascetic, although, for her, bandanas were pretty much exclusive to the gangster outfits and playing TUGs with me and Zoe. The black kerchief bandana, which was the Western paisley pattern like mine, the unbuttoned black-and-white short-sleeve plaid shirt, and the solid black long-sleeve t-shirt all were evocative of very few Cool Girls, but she was one of them.
"Put her on the table," Mom commanded the situation, "On her stomach, please."
"With pleasure, Aunt Susan," Melody spoke with restrained yet cheerful obedience.
"Thank you, sweetheart," my mother nodded in genuine appreciation of the lovely misdeeds.
"GMMMMMMM!" Alexandra yelled into the socks while her mother wrapped her face in black electrical tape, "HMM HMMMM!" she yelled as best as she could, but no sympathy was found.
"There, there, my child," Aunt Melissa broke the tape, "It will be fun tickling you."
A word on us Henderson relations. We all have… oh, frig it. I'm pasting a table with the names and our respective hair colors and eye colors rather than writing a fancy paragraph. For good measure, I'll add the names of our mothers, too (for us second generation TUGgers).
Alexandra was tied in a taut X despite her size because the table was adequately sized to tie any girl in spreadeagle position, even my 6'1" friend. Alexandra was just over 5'9", which was only a little taller than Melody, and the tallest of us all. For her, it was clothesline, ensuring that each of us was bound in one of the family's preferred style of rope. Brooke, the young sister and one of the victims in Christmas Joy's, took the paddle my mother offered her.
"Take that," and Brooke proceeded to give Alex 4 raps on each cheek, "For Christmas Eve!"
"MMMMMMM!" Alex squirmed and playfully glared at her little sister.
Brooke deserves mention because fashionably she's a hybrid of their older sister Erika and a little touch of each of the three Joy's. She didn't have the fingerless gloves this time, but she had that same sisterly worship that is typical of baby sisters. Her skirt was Christmas red denim, but she had the chains casually draped out of the pocket like Alex. The skirt was denim, much like the kinds Erika and I like to wear, but Brooke's barely covered her knees more like Sam's whereas Erika's skirt (also red denim) came down to her calves. Like me, Brooke had leggings under her skirt, but hers were blue. Like Zoe, Brooke preferred V-neck t-shirts. She was a beautiful blend of all of us older girls of her own generation, and it was beautiful. She even had her hair just like Zoe's, with a blue bandana headband combined with a tight blue scrunchie right against her head for the ponytail. Her American flag t-shirt added balance to unite her outfit.
"Brooke," Aunt Melissa calmly grabbed another chair, "Sit down right here. Now."
"Mom! You're," she looked around the room, her green eyes wide as saucers, "kidnapping me?!"
"I didn't say you may talk. I'll accept up to two volunteers for socks to fill Brooke's big mouth."
In case you can't tell, the matriarchs are about to pick us all off by playing the "Mom card" with "do as I say or so help me God!"
I'll spare you the details and say that Brooke was tied to the chair just like I was but with a slight modification—Brooke's arms were boxtied behind her back. She was even tied with the brown ropes like I was currently trapped. Of course there were rogues who joyfully provided socks to be stuffed in Brooke's mouth—Alexandra and Erika. The former's crew socks were the stuffing; the latter's knee socks were the cleave gag and the OTN gag. Brooke was thrust into a world of toxic odors, foot gas, and toe cheese. She didn't deserve it, but she liked it anyway.
"All right. Which one of you three will be next? Or do we take you at once?" Mom asked.
"US?!" Zoe looked, realizing that she, Melody, and Erika were implied by the question.
"You don't get a choice," Aunt Darlene said, assertively staring Zoe and Erika down using her stature, "You can all go together, or you can go individually. But you go, like it or not."
"Darlene, sweetie," Mom smiled, "Take my daughter, and enjoy the thrill of kidnapping her."
"I will," the eldest matriarch had a sly grin, and she grabbed Zoe with authority and ease.
"MMMMMMMM!" my sister didn't expect to be such an easy conquest at Aunt Darlene's hands.
"Now, Zoe, for your insolence," the captor smiled, "You will be gagged with my socks."
Zoe sighed and turned around. Zoe was perhaps the most piously feminine of us all despite her own journey to reach that point. Her outfit reflected our collegiate colors with navy and white being all she had. Navy crew socks, white crew socks, white leggings, a navy skirt that covered her knees, a navy collegiate (Minnesota Tech) turtleneck t-shirt, and a white bandana headband. A pair of white and navy scrunchies held her hair in a ponytail, right against her head, too.
My sister looked around the room, but she couldn't hide her smile while Aunt Darlene bound her wrists, forearms, and elbows together behind her back. That smirk said more than anything else or anyone else could have said right then. That was Zoe's way of giving her mark of approval of the situation, but then she opened her lips and said more than any other words could say.
"Aunt Darlene, I love you," my sister's words came with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Good," Aunt Darlene sat down and removed her shoes and socks, "Then shut up for us all."
"GMMMMMM!" Zoe made a face at the socks that filled her mouth.
"Be good, cousin," Erika winked at Zoe while Aunt Melissa readied to wrap gag her.
"MMMMMMM!" my sister groaned, but eight layers of the white electrical tape silenced her.
"Enjoy your just desserts," Aunt Darlene said to my captive older sister.
Zoe was laid on the kitchen island, and her legs were bound together with the white rope in the same five places that Samantha's legs were bound. My sister, however, was hogtied from her ankles to her elbows. She was helplessly bound on the black granite surface that just days before had been where Sam, Alex, and I had united to make Christmas cookies, and there was a spark in her eyes that said she was going to put up a determined but quiet struggle, and her gagged grunts filled the air. If I were to rank me and my cousins by sweetness, Sam and Zoe are the top two.
Of course, I can't forget about Erika and Melody, those two lovable girls. Erika wore a long red denim skirt, as I mentioned earlier, and with it she wore a Christmas green sweatshirt. Her sole hair accessory was a green scrunchie, holding her hair in a ponytail that was much like Zoe's, but her green eyes were her greatest asset and one which God had given her in His goodness. She is still just as beautiful all these years later, but now she's a mother of two. Melody and Erika, like me and Alexandra, were pukers who could not endure any kind of dirty laundry gags.
Melody was dressed like a Mom, if you will. Pink sweatpants and a purple sweatshirt obscured just how skinny she really was despite the numerous pregnancies, and she's still the lightest of us cousins when you compute pounds per inch of height. Of course we're all jealous. Joy was also this way, and it definitely came from their mother. Aunt Darlene? Rail? Me? Dumpling. Aunt Melissa? Dumpling. Mom? Dumpling. Me? Dumpling. Erika? Dumpling. Alexandra? Rail. Zoe? Rail. Brooke. Rail. Melody? Rail. You get one gene or the other. Thank you so much, Great-Grandma Henderson, for the dumpling gene that you passed to us Fredericks girls, which I will go to my grave as the source since Aunt Darlene isn't descended from you!
"My child, go stand beside your sister," Aunt Darlene ordered Melody.
"Yes, ma'am," Melody's green eyes sheepishly darted left and right.
"Gmmmmmm!" Samantha drooled continuously courtesy the head harness ball gag.
"Mmmmmm!" I drooled at an equivalent rate considering I had basically the same gag.
"Oh, pipe down," Mom warned me, "Cousin, are you manipulating your child?"
"I call it bossing her around, personally," Aunt Darlene had a naughty smile on her face.
Poor Melody received bindings just like Zoe's, including the use of the white rope, but she was put in a strappado position with the rope holding her arms in the air being wrapped around Sam's chest! Another difference was that Melody had three ropes on her thighs for six total binding her legs. Either way, it was a strappado, and it was tight! One of the TIE Bondage Sorority blue dog ball gags was used; like it sounds, it was a blue 2.5 inch rubber dog ball with a sky blue bandana threaded through the holes to make an improvised ball gag that functioned like the real deal!
Poor Melody? Nah. She loves it.
Erika the skirt girl received what was, to me, the fun binding. She was the other flexible cousin, and she was bound with clothesline, her arms tied behind her just like Zoe's and Melody's. That pink t-shirt nicely complemented her skirt, and her hair was in a pretty, neat bun. Her eyes were hidden by a purple bandana blindfold; she had a harness and a waist-and-crotch rope; she got the unusual frogtie for her legs, forcing her to helplessly struggle on the carpet while she howled into a gag just like Melody's, except the rubber ball was orange and the bandana was blue.
Yeah, there were more ball gags, but Aunt Darlene hadn't brought ours. Aunt Melissa didn't own any herself, and Erika and Brooke kept their own in their bedrooms. That's why they resorted to using the homemade ball gag invented by Zoe when she was in college. The ball gag and head harness used on me and Sam were my own. Aunt Darlene was a fun lady, and she had an array of gags that she, Melody, and Sam used on each other and on the rest of us girls.
I was the slippery one, the one who was most likely to escape her bondage. Alas, I would have escaped if it was permitted, but it wasn't permitted by any means. Just as I got the rope off my wrists, Aunt Melissa clamped a pair of my handcuffs on my wrists, trapping me for good. There was no escaping the grip of my mother, her sister, and her cousin. Indeed, we were trapped and silenced, the generational victims of… Matriarchal Vengeance!
The end
Matriarchal Vengeance (F+/F+)
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Of course Aunt Darlene sought revenge. She'd visit me in Madison, Wisconsin (she lives over in St. Paul, Minnesota), unannounced, on a long weekend just to get revenge and remind me that all is fair in love and war and that I am the daughter of her beloved cousin (which, for the reminder, means I am actually her first cousin once removed, not her niece). She didn't wait that long to do that, and instead it all took place shortly after the events of Christmas Joy's.
I had dressed more like my usual self, with brown leggings and a matching bandana headband, a Western paisley patterned bandana to be specific for those who like exact visuals. A purple skirt swished about my ankles, and a pink t-shirt was sufficient for a day indoors despite the winter in the Midwest. It was simple and modest, just the way I liked it to be. Purple sneakers and brown crew socks were fairly standard flavors for me, since I and my cousins Joy all joyfully held that ignominious title of "puker," which meant we barfed when gagged with anything that wasn't spic and span! I'll get more into how these things were handled in TUGs.
I was enjoying Christmas break at Aunt Melissa's house. Aunt Melissa, for those who aren't too familiar with my family, is my mother's younger sister. Mom and Aunt Melissa married brothers who raised us with varying levels of strictness due to their prudish Protestant ways that believed that TUGs were pure sex games with no room for platonic or sisterly play despite my mom, Aunt Melissa, and Aunt Darlene having played the games since they were single-digit years old. What really matters is that I was 22 when I learned my first and second cousins played TUGs, and they likewise in the same moment learned that I and my older sister Zoe played. Unlike Mom, Aunt Melissa eventually won and was allowed to play TUGs with my cousins, and Aunt Darlene never had that issue and simply taught her daughters as they reached appropriate ages without any kind of opposition from her husband. Three different flavors all led to massive repercussions for us.
But, once the boys are away at work, the girls will play, and the only boy in Aunt Melissa's house is her husband. He had a job that gave minimal time off, which meant we girls had free reign of the house. What could possibly go wrong besides the joy of kidnapping TUGs are a brief break from TUGs so we could enjoy Christmas? I know I just gave you a thousand reasons for things to go wrong, and I can come up with at least a thousand more reasons!
"I got you, you sneaky, humiliating brat," Aunt Darlene stepped out from the shadows and put a water pistol against my head, "You're going to come with us ladies quietly, you understand?"
"Yes," I said, helpless as she wrapped her arm around my neck and dragged me away.
I was taken down to the same basement where she'd already been humiliated just a few days ago, and I was ordered to march down the stairs. At the fifth step, Aunt Darlene took a matte red ball gag out of her pants pocket and shoved it into my mouth, ending any protests or uproar that may have begun upon my whim. She didn't pull it too tightly, but if Aunt Darlene was around then it meant that my cousin Joy Samantha was around somewhere as well. That familiar basement was the site of many TUGs before this, and it continues to be the Henderson girls' battleground. Sure enough, Mom and Aunt Melissa were in the basement, ready with mounds of brown rope.
"UGGGHHHHH!" I tried to fight, but it was three of them against one of me, strong as I was.
"Sit down and be calm, honey," Aunt Melissa smiled at me, "Or we'll have to use…"
"Force," my mother held a wooden paddle, the kind used to break up ground meat.
"Just take a seat," Aunt Darlene said while they held me against the wooden furniture.
"GMMMMMM!" I figured that I'd enjoy being kidnapped more if I fought like hell.
My wrists were tied together behind my back and then also tied to the chair itself with a double purposed waist and crotch rope, but I promise that nothing will happen in this story. Here, crotch ropes are about restraint, although I am aware that they also have a dirty purpose. Humiliation is fun, though, and you haven't been humiliated until you've experienced a TUG at the hands of the three matriarchs. My hands and arms were almost completely useless, and I heard a familiar cry from the other side of the room. Without looking, I knew who was in distress against the pole. It was an overwhelming lineup of emotions, sights, and feelings, but it was a fun scene.
My cousin Joy Samantha, also lovingly known as Samantha, Sam, or Joy Sam, had pretty yellow blonde hair and blue eyes just like I have and just like our cousin Joy Alexandra has. Samantha is Aunt Darlene's daughter, and Alexandra is Aunt Melissa's daughter. We had so much fun with being cousins all born in 1996, and no one expected us to all grow up and be the only girls in the entire family who had yellow blonde hair and blue eyes just like Aunt Darlene alone had.
"NGGGGGG!" Samantha drooled off the head harness ball gag version of my ball gag.
Sam was standing at the infamous steel pole. The pole was a former support post drilled into the slab, but the pole was left behind for TUGs purposes under the guise of being a past artifact from the home's history after the basement renovations that turned the basement into a carpeted great room, a tiled fully functional kitchen, and a fully finished laundry room. My cousin, unlike me, was a champion of elbow bondage endurance, and her back was against the pole while her arms were wrapped around the pole and tied together at her wrists and elbows. She was calm despite the intensity of her position and the embarrassment to which she was being subjected.
I fought my captors, but they tied my ankles to the legs of the chair and then tied my thighs both below my waist and above my knees, both bonds under my skirt. A chest harness made my torso one with the back of the chair, and my mother, her sister, and her cousin tied me in unique ways I could feel and appreciate. Mom was the strongest, making sure the ropes were properly cinched so that the knots wouldn't easily come undone; Aunt Melissa was the sneaky one who did things like making sure knots were out of reach and tying my elbows to the adjacent spindles for extra restriction; Aunt Darlene was the sinister one, tying my legs together and adding the crotch rope to make things emotionally and physically intense for me.
Sam was the graceful one, the girly girl. She'd taken the bait and found herself tied to the pole in her heels and stockings. She'd worn white heeled boots, black pantyhose, and a brightly colored floral knee skirt with a pink blouse with a modest neckline. She was feminine and flashy but not showy. Her hair was long and free, just the way she liked it, and she was bound repetitively with a multitude of the white version of the brown rope that bound me, since Aunt Melissa's family all used white rope. Even our familial bondage games have rivalries! Mom, Zoe, and I preferred to use clothesline; Aunt Melissa and her daughters preferred white rope; Aunt Darlene and her girls preferred brown rope. As you can imagine, there has been a motive for many storylines with us.
I mentioned the arm bondage for Sam. She had the harness and similar double waist and crotch rope like I had, and her legs were tied together in 5 places—2 on her thighs and 3 on her lower legs. Each of the bonds used a long rope so that she could also be tied to the pole as part of each and every bond, not only binding her body in normal fashion but also fusing her to the steel pole. My cousin Sam was a beautiful young woman, and I miss the weekly, sometimes daily, texts that we exchanged to love, tease, taunt, and encourage one another. The memories remain with us!
"Mom," I heard Zoe's voice accompanied by the sound of gag talk struggle among my cousins, "I have that package you requested," and she came around the corner with that irrepressible gangsta of play, Joy Alexandra, Aunt Melissa's middle daughter, aided by Alexandra's older and younger sisters (respectively), Erika and Brooke, and Aunt Darlene's older daughter, Melody. That's why I wanted to tell you this story so badly, because Melody was involved for once.
Melody has an addiction to maternity. As of the writing of this story, she has already had 8 kids and is only 36, but this was back in 2018 when she "only" had 4 kids. She's a good mother, and it truly is her calling. Like her mother, Melody loves children and TUGs, and the two older girls are, in 2025, just getting into TUGs now, and they enjoy just like the older generations! They're a source of happiness in our lives, especially for Aunt Darlene who, at 60, gets the thrill of being a TUG buddy to her grandchildren, and she plans to retire from captivity and work at 65.
"MMMMMM!" Alexandra gave her best groan into the socks despite her inability to fight back.
Yes, she was the one with the clean pair of socks stuffed in my mouth. Alexandra was the rebel, but like all the Henderson relations she was still a girl underneath all that spirited resistance and her love of stereotypical gangster style fashion. I mean, of course, the fingerless gloves and the chains hanging out of the pocket of her jeans, both the gloves and jeans being black. Since we'd been brought into the familial games ("we" meaning "me and Zoe"), Alexandra had also bought into my bandana ascetic, although, for her, bandanas were pretty much exclusive to the gangster outfits and playing TUGs with me and Zoe. The black kerchief bandana, which was the Western paisley pattern like mine, the unbuttoned black-and-white short-sleeve plaid shirt, and the solid black long-sleeve t-shirt all were evocative of very few Cool Girls, but she was one of them.
"Put her on the table," Mom commanded the situation, "On her stomach, please."
"With pleasure, Aunt Susan," Melody spoke with restrained yet cheerful obedience.
"Thank you, sweetheart," my mother nodded in genuine appreciation of the lovely misdeeds.
"GMMMMMMM!" Alexandra yelled into the socks while her mother wrapped her face in black electrical tape, "HMM HMMMM!" she yelled as best as she could, but no sympathy was found.
"There, there, my child," Aunt Melissa broke the tape, "It will be fun tickling you."
A word on us Henderson relations. We all have… oh, frig it. I'm pasting a table with the names and our respective hair colors and eye colors rather than writing a fancy paragraph. For good measure, I'll add the names of our mothers, too (for us second generation TUGgers).
| Name | Hair | Eyes | Mom |
|---|---|---|---|
| Joy Suzanne | Blonde | Blue | Susan |
| Joy Alexandra | Blonde | Blue | Melissa |
| Joy Samantha | Blonde | Blue | Darlene |
| Zoe | Brown | Brown | Susan |
| Erika | Brown | Green | Melissa |
| Brooke | Brown | Blue | Melissa |
| Melody | Blonde | Green | Darlene |
| Darlene | Blonde | Blue | |
| Susan | Brown | Brown | |
| Melissa | Brown | Brown |
"Take that," and Brooke proceeded to give Alex 4 raps on each cheek, "For Christmas Eve!"
"MMMMMMM!" Alex squirmed and playfully glared at her little sister.
Brooke deserves mention because fashionably she's a hybrid of their older sister Erika and a little touch of each of the three Joy's. She didn't have the fingerless gloves this time, but she had that same sisterly worship that is typical of baby sisters. Her skirt was Christmas red denim, but she had the chains casually draped out of the pocket like Alex. The skirt was denim, much like the kinds Erika and I like to wear, but Brooke's barely covered her knees more like Sam's whereas Erika's skirt (also red denim) came down to her calves. Like me, Brooke had leggings under her skirt, but hers were blue. Like Zoe, Brooke preferred V-neck t-shirts. She was a beautiful blend of all of us older girls of her own generation, and it was beautiful. She even had her hair just like Zoe's, with a blue bandana headband combined with a tight blue scrunchie right against her head for the ponytail. Her American flag t-shirt added balance to unite her outfit.
"Brooke," Aunt Melissa calmly grabbed another chair, "Sit down right here. Now."
"Mom! You're," she looked around the room, her green eyes wide as saucers, "kidnapping me?!"
"I didn't say you may talk. I'll accept up to two volunteers for socks to fill Brooke's big mouth."
In case you can't tell, the matriarchs are about to pick us all off by playing the "Mom card" with "do as I say or so help me God!"
I'll spare you the details and say that Brooke was tied to the chair just like I was but with a slight modification—Brooke's arms were boxtied behind her back. She was even tied with the brown ropes like I was currently trapped. Of course there were rogues who joyfully provided socks to be stuffed in Brooke's mouth—Alexandra and Erika. The former's crew socks were the stuffing; the latter's knee socks were the cleave gag and the OTN gag. Brooke was thrust into a world of toxic odors, foot gas, and toe cheese. She didn't deserve it, but she liked it anyway.
"All right. Which one of you three will be next? Or do we take you at once?" Mom asked.
"US?!" Zoe looked, realizing that she, Melody, and Erika were implied by the question.
"You don't get a choice," Aunt Darlene said, assertively staring Zoe and Erika down using her stature, "You can all go together, or you can go individually. But you go, like it or not."
"Darlene, sweetie," Mom smiled, "Take my daughter, and enjoy the thrill of kidnapping her."
"I will," the eldest matriarch had a sly grin, and she grabbed Zoe with authority and ease.
"MMMMMMMM!" my sister didn't expect to be such an easy conquest at Aunt Darlene's hands.
"Now, Zoe, for your insolence," the captor smiled, "You will be gagged with my socks."
Zoe sighed and turned around. Zoe was perhaps the most piously feminine of us all despite her own journey to reach that point. Her outfit reflected our collegiate colors with navy and white being all she had. Navy crew socks, white crew socks, white leggings, a navy skirt that covered her knees, a navy collegiate (Minnesota Tech) turtleneck t-shirt, and a white bandana headband. A pair of white and navy scrunchies held her hair in a ponytail, right against her head, too.
My sister looked around the room, but she couldn't hide her smile while Aunt Darlene bound her wrists, forearms, and elbows together behind her back. That smirk said more than anything else or anyone else could have said right then. That was Zoe's way of giving her mark of approval of the situation, but then she opened her lips and said more than any other words could say.
"Aunt Darlene, I love you," my sister's words came with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Good," Aunt Darlene sat down and removed her shoes and socks, "Then shut up for us all."
"GMMMMMM!" Zoe made a face at the socks that filled her mouth.
"Be good, cousin," Erika winked at Zoe while Aunt Melissa readied to wrap gag her.
"MMMMMMM!" my sister groaned, but eight layers of the white electrical tape silenced her.
"Enjoy your just desserts," Aunt Darlene said to my captive older sister.
Zoe was laid on the kitchen island, and her legs were bound together with the white rope in the same five places that Samantha's legs were bound. My sister, however, was hogtied from her ankles to her elbows. She was helplessly bound on the black granite surface that just days before had been where Sam, Alex, and I had united to make Christmas cookies, and there was a spark in her eyes that said she was going to put up a determined but quiet struggle, and her gagged grunts filled the air. If I were to rank me and my cousins by sweetness, Sam and Zoe are the top two.
Of course, I can't forget about Erika and Melody, those two lovable girls. Erika wore a long red denim skirt, as I mentioned earlier, and with it she wore a Christmas green sweatshirt. Her sole hair accessory was a green scrunchie, holding her hair in a ponytail that was much like Zoe's, but her green eyes were her greatest asset and one which God had given her in His goodness. She is still just as beautiful all these years later, but now she's a mother of two. Melody and Erika, like me and Alexandra, were pukers who could not endure any kind of dirty laundry gags.
Melody was dressed like a Mom, if you will. Pink sweatpants and a purple sweatshirt obscured just how skinny she really was despite the numerous pregnancies, and she's still the lightest of us cousins when you compute pounds per inch of height. Of course we're all jealous. Joy was also this way, and it definitely came from their mother. Aunt Darlene? Rail? Me? Dumpling. Aunt Melissa? Dumpling. Mom? Dumpling. Me? Dumpling. Erika? Dumpling. Alexandra? Rail. Zoe? Rail. Brooke. Rail. Melody? Rail. You get one gene or the other. Thank you so much, Great-Grandma Henderson, for the dumpling gene that you passed to us Fredericks girls, which I will go to my grave as the source since Aunt Darlene isn't descended from you!
"My child, go stand beside your sister," Aunt Darlene ordered Melody.
"Yes, ma'am," Melody's green eyes sheepishly darted left and right.
"Gmmmmmm!" Samantha drooled continuously courtesy the head harness ball gag.
"Mmmmmm!" I drooled at an equivalent rate considering I had basically the same gag.
"Oh, pipe down," Mom warned me, "Cousin, are you manipulating your child?"
"I call it bossing her around, personally," Aunt Darlene had a naughty smile on her face.
Poor Melody received bindings just like Zoe's, including the use of the white rope, but she was put in a strappado position with the rope holding her arms in the air being wrapped around Sam's chest! Another difference was that Melody had three ropes on her thighs for six total binding her legs. Either way, it was a strappado, and it was tight! One of the TIE Bondage Sorority blue dog ball gags was used; like it sounds, it was a blue 2.5 inch rubber dog ball with a sky blue bandana threaded through the holes to make an improvised ball gag that functioned like the real deal!
Poor Melody? Nah. She loves it.
Erika the skirt girl received what was, to me, the fun binding. She was the other flexible cousin, and she was bound with clothesline, her arms tied behind her just like Zoe's and Melody's. That pink t-shirt nicely complemented her skirt, and her hair was in a pretty, neat bun. Her eyes were hidden by a purple bandana blindfold; she had a harness and a waist-and-crotch rope; she got the unusual frogtie for her legs, forcing her to helplessly struggle on the carpet while she howled into a gag just like Melody's, except the rubber ball was orange and the bandana was blue.
Yeah, there were more ball gags, but Aunt Darlene hadn't brought ours. Aunt Melissa didn't own any herself, and Erika and Brooke kept their own in their bedrooms. That's why they resorted to using the homemade ball gag invented by Zoe when she was in college. The ball gag and head harness used on me and Sam were my own. Aunt Darlene was a fun lady, and she had an array of gags that she, Melody, and Sam used on each other and on the rest of us girls.
I was the slippery one, the one who was most likely to escape her bondage. Alas, I would have escaped if it was permitted, but it wasn't permitted by any means. Just as I got the rope off my wrists, Aunt Melissa clamped a pair of my handcuffs on my wrists, trapping me for good. There was no escaping the grip of my mother, her sister, and her cousin. Indeed, we were trapped and silenced, the generational victims of… Matriarchal Vengeance!
The end
