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Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
Harder to follow this time but still well written. (The 2nd part I mean)
Sorry about that, almost everything I write is from someone's point of view. But recent stories I enjoy inserting random chapters like blogs of descriptions of videos, extracts from books.
Mixing things up.
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
About to beg for more.
Every morning I play out the same strange routine.
Woken by the alarm, and a moments surprise, feeling around inside myself. Am I me? Am I here?
Surprise, that I'm allowed to wake up. Because it seems to have free reign, able to do whatever it wants, whenever it wants. With me.
So why am I still here?
Teeth brushed and face washed without looking in the mirror. Afraid of what I'll see?
Yes.
School uniform, or whatever- jeans and something if it's the weekend -on and, if I haven't yet seen, heard, Lauren, I go to her door.
Opening it without knocking and stepping inside.
It keeps binding her you see. At night, three nights out of every five now when morning comes and I check.
I find Lauren tied, and gagged.
Cursing me before I've even closed the door, muffled and contained anger as she wriggles and bucks. Straining against her tight and apparently inescapable bondage, eyes blazing.
So sure I'm the one responsible.
Because who else?
Ha.
Wordlessly, what point denial when she's already found me guilty, so without speaking I free her each time. Leave.
The thing is, there's.
Something.
Going.
On.
At the crossroads that night, when I blacked out something- it -came. Something- it -slipped inside me.
And hasn't left.
There's too much happening for me to be wrong, too much unexplained and too many instances of lost time.
Sammy and Tash that morning.
Chelle in the woods.
Lauren, because she isn't binding herself.
Added to which, my somewhat reckless experiment: visiting White Hill, the rival comprehensive that I'm not popular enough to need to give a shit about.
Visiting, and being seen to visit. Putting myself in danger and daring it to intervene.
Pushed and shoved, punched hard enough to bruise and all the while waiting, shouting out my challenge.
What are you fucking waiting for?
Hoping I'm wrong, knowing I'm not. Finally, stripped of my shirt, abandoned, I'd felt the numbness rising, the freakish wrongness of being forced out of my own head. Darkness approaching at speed.
Lost time, like a deep sleep and the accompanying handful of seconds disorientation upon waking.
Where am I?
What did it- I -do?
Dropping back to reality with a bump. In my room, blue Merton shirt back on, wearing a white, White Hill shirt and tie over the top.
I've still got the tie, hanging on the back of my door because despite the near constant baseline fear at my situation, seeing it never fails to raise a smirk.
I don't have the first damn clue what to do? Whether I can fight back, bargain or reason?
Talk to it- and yes I keep saying, it, but what other name, title or description can there be for a thing I know nothing about -even?
Logically I should go to Sammy and Tash, my friends who possibly- because they hadn't even been mad when I found them bound that morning -already know things aren't right. And Sammy has a roomful of books on exactly this subject.
Namely shit that clearly isn't real.
Except it is.
I've been putting it off though, for reasons that aren't easy to explain but which roughly revolve around my not wanting to involve them in this clearly dangerous new aspect to my life.
Sure, it only binds and gags people.
For now.
I need to think.
But first.
Stepping inside Lauren's bedroom, semi dark curtains still closed and everything in shadow. Blinking, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
Moaning, soft and low, coming from the bed.
Right.
With a sigh- getting bored of being yelled at -I pick my way across the space, but to the window not the bed, pulling back a curtain. Bathing the room in dim overcast morning light.
Turning to face the bed, facing Lauren, laid on- but not in since the duvet is a crumpled mess on the floor -her bed.
Blinking at me.
I favour shorts, for sleeping. Even in winter I dislike being too covered, preferring bare legs and a vest top or cropped tee. Lauren tends towards baggy drawstring trousers and a strappy top, usually black or otherwise goth styled.
Angry teen.
Red trousers today but criss-crossed by a black barbed wire design. 'Caution' in black gothic script across her butt. The thin strapped top is black, hugging her braless chest.
Rope, coarse brown and rough looking, wraps her legs at ankles and above the knees, pinching and causing the trousers to puff up either side. Her wrists are bound crossed, pinned to the small of Lauren's back, the rope wrapped around her waist.
As I approach she wriggles some more, flopping over from belly to back. C cups bouncing beneath the top and I'm bracing for the usual gag muffled tirade. The cursing. The insistence of it both being my fault and why wasn't I here sooner?
But.
Nothing?
Lauren remains silent, eyes fixed and watching me climb up beside her.
Removing her gag and.
"Good morning, Sis."
"Oh." Caught completely off guard by the calm. Pleasant? Tone, the complete lack of anger. "Um. Hi, Laur."
"Did you sleep okay?"
"I...?"
What the actual fuck is this? She's being, nice? Polite, not shouting and even before I- it -began binding her most nights, she was never this friendly.
She's laying there now, on her back watching me, smiling slightly as though she isn't bound.
Or. As though she's okay- what the fuck -with being bound?
"I should?" Kneeling on spread legs beside her, waving vaguely at her waist, legs. At the ropes. Confusion running rampant in my thoughts, which Lauren goes and makes worse.
"Oh." Looking down at herself, wriggling. Flopping breasts again, Lauren looks back at me. Shrugs. "Only if you want."
"If." What? "I, want?"
"Sure." A nod. "I mean, I've got college but...."
Trailing off. And she can't really be okay with remaining bound. Can she?
"So." Licking my lips, careful. But wanting to ask, test. "You want to stay tied up?"
"I. Well." Another wriggle, stretching, pushing her upper body- breasts -up off the bed, flopping back down. "I've got college. But." Licking her own lips, eyes fixed on mine. "If you want to keep me...."
That trailing off again. Almost like, she's showing me the facts, but isn't willing. Allowed? To make the decision.
If I want to. Keep her?
"I could put you in my box." Large and mostly empty, a solid wooden box at the foot end of my bed, hinged lid with a sliding bolt. Something I used to keep toys in, years ago. My tone almost challenging, because quite frankly she's freaking me out a little.
So suddenly obedient.
"Gag you."
To which threat Lauren blinks, slowly.
"If you want to keep me...."
She nods, once. Small yet. Willing?
I virtually rip the ropes off her, rolling Lauren back and forth across her bed for access. Toss everything into a corner and bolt from her room.
From the house, messenger bag grabbed alongside an apple for breakfast.
Unable to remain. Unable to understand Lauren's sudden change from angry sister to willing slave.
Wanting no part of it.
Trying to outrun this thing- it -taken root inside me. Knowing I'm doomed to fail.
WOW WOW WOW WOW!
No other words properly describe this latest entry.
Charlotte is definitely getting creeped out. Full blown horror vibes here. Ain't no wonder she took off running at the end.
Anxiously waiting for more already
Perhaps unsurprising, but it is unnerving how her sisters sudden willingness is far creepier then the actual binding. There is an element there of messing with one's reality, in a way, where ones expectations of the world are turned upside down.
Or another way to look at it is the monster tightening the proverbial noose, demonstrating to what extent it can pull at the puppet strings of Charlotte's life. An escalation that hints at more to come, but leaving it up to the imagination, which is often even worse then something more concrete.
BlissfulMisery wrote: 11 months ago
it is unnerving how her sisters sudden willingness is far creepier then the actual binding
Agreed. I'm glad that came across because I liked the suddenness of the step change: spending half a chapter explaining how mad Lauren is only to discover her being docile, willing.
And, yes. No doubt hinting at more to come
Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago
Possessed by some entity must be scary as hell.
Aiming for scary, bondage but done with a heavy dose of horror.
Thanks for finding my latest story, for commenting.
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
WOW WOW WOW WOW!
No other words properly describe this latest entry.
Charlotte is definitely getting creeped out.
She is.
Am trying to play up the unknown aspect of it all, that she knows only the fact of something- it -being inside her, but nothing else.
Aside from how powerless she appears to be regarding control of any kind.
Extract taken from the weekly online blog of H. F. Investigations, entry 041.
'....not be undertaken lightly. Summoning, of any sort isn't a game. You are asking. Demanding in some cases, that a thing of potentially unimaginable power comes.
To you.
And then having dragged it from one plain of reality to another, yours. You expect it to play nicely?
Protection is a must.
I get it. I, understand. You've watched Hollywood crap, and, what? The demon comes, it rattles a couple of windows and blows out the candles.
No.
If you get this wrong, the demon- monster, spirit, vengeful ghost, nightmare or elemental, the list is long and far from exhaustive -comes, and it tears down your world.
For starters.
And mostly for fun. Unless by some miracle you're lucky enough to exert or find some level of control. These things are bound by- some -rules, they can be trapped.
But not tamed.
It. And I cannot stress this point enough. It does not want to be your friend.'
Days. Weeks it's taken, thinking and mostly second guessing myself.
What to do?
About Char of course, about what happened, wanting to talk to her but not knowing how. The invisible lines of school society acting as solid barriers and I can't simply walk up to her at lunch.
And she hasn't shown up in the woods.
Not even to rescue me last weekend: Sunday morning and me walking into town, off to meet friends. Girls together with plans to see a movie and generally loiter in the sun.
Boy- and I don't care but don't want people to know I don't care -watching.
Taking a shortcut through the woodland, that narrow ditch bracketed corridor and halfway along I'd run into Dylan plus five of his crew: three boys and two girls. Ropes in hand, all of them grinning, all of them younger.
And Dylan's face, immediate grin at finding someone falling off seeing who, told me he knew despite discovering me bound that day, I was. Am, off limits.
But.
I really didn't want to spend the afternoon boy watching.
"Oh dear." Trying on a smile, hands raised in surrender and feeling a small unexpected tingle in my belly. "Am I trespassing in your woods?"
Allowing Dylan- smile fighting a frown on his face -to gag me with a length of dirty green cloth, wrapped around and forced into my mouth, knotted at the back.
Following them, shepherded back to 'camp' in my converse high tops and skintight white leggings. Tiny thong underneath so it doesn't show, and a cropped pink tee that hangs off my E cups rather then falling to cover my belly.
Directed and complying, laying on my back atop a fallen tree, rising angle the trunk thick yet not perfectly straight. Rough beneath me. All six of them piling in to lash me in place, the act, the sheer intensity of being mobbed and bound making my nerves spike.
Giving me chills and more then a small dose of fear, which combined with the sensations of the tight ropes being applied ramps the inner tingle up to the sky and beyond.
Arms above me, wrists crossed and secured to both an upward sloping stump of branch and the trunk itself. Preventing me slipping or shuffling downwards.
Ankles together, my whole body from wrists to ankles wrapped by multiple layers of criss-crossing ropes. Overkill surely as the six work up then down then up. Everything pulled and yanked tightly, E cups forced apart by a rope snagged between them, belly pushed flat and rope slipping into my gagged mouth. Tongue pushed back.
Helpless. A state I check several times as the hours pass, wriggling and squirming, never finding any slack ropes or suddenly become loose knots.
Tied and made a trophy, a thing won. I'm largely ignored. Glanced at often, looked over. Especially by the boys, enjoying the view from below where my hanging top allows easy sighting of the red and black push up bra I put on, the clear humped shape of my breasts.
I spend most of the day bound, staring up at the canopy interrupted sky, feeling oddly relaxed considering the tightness of my bindings.
Feeling strange. Odd. Only my second time bound and still a little confused: that something you'd expect- if it came up in conversation -to be so wrong actually feels right. Good.
Is it normal, okay, to be comfortable laying here wrapped in more ropes then I've ever seen? To be gagged, unable to even ask for the freedom I don't- weird -want?
Why aren't I angry and pissed off at being treated like a prize? Something admired yet ignored?
Time passes, Dylan's six becomes eight becomes four becomes five. Three more girls join me as bound trophies.
One tied to a plastic chair, a part of the loose ring where all the gang sits.
The other two, bought in together are bound back to back. A skinny tree between them and each girls wrists pulled behind her, tied crossed in front of the other girls waist.
I recognise them all from the neighbourhood, girls younger then me. And each looks momentarily shocked to spot me bound and gagged. A newcomer to the party.
On the whole, crazy to be saying so but. A better day then I'd been expecting.
So time has passed, and I'm finally stoked up enough, feeling brave enough, to seek Char out, to talk.
Just as well because I- almost -walk into her coming out of Geography class.
Head turned, shouting some returned playful insult back into the room. At a friend, and proximity sense has my attention jerking round to the front, spotting Char about one step from colliding with me, her own head snapping up and.
She dodges left as I step right.
Impact.
Scattered laughter from around us, the corridor full of teenagers, schoolkids rushing from class to either the lunch hall or outside. Breaktime.
We stand, staring at each other as the noise, the crowd subsides.
Leaving us alone.
Char, looking cute and I've seen her regularly from a distance, because school is only so big. She fidgets, eyes on me then off, darting around. But she doesn't leave.
And I don't know how to start either, for all the kissing and me fondling her chest we've never actually talked.
So I say the first thing I can think of that's relevant to us both.
"I saw Dylan."
"Yeah?" Spark of something. Interest?
"At the weekend." Feeling sudden heat climbing my chest and neck, my cheeks. "He...."
"Really?" Shocked, but smiling. "I didn't think you...."
"Nor did I." A shrug, still blushing. "But after you...."
At which Char frowns, and I remember, belatedly and damn it, how it had happened.
The whirlwind patch of localised darkness exploding out of her, swallowing and spitting me out, bound against the fence and Char walking away.
Her eyes pitch black.
She nods though, wiping the frown away and finding a grin from somewhere.
"So maybe I'll have to do it again?"
"Oh." Blushing twice as hard, nipples suddenly stabbing at my bra.
Bound on Char's bed. In Char's house.
"Well...." Not feeling able to continue, too hot and too nervous to ask. To agree. And besides.
Aren't those Char's friends, walking, almost marching at double time towards us.
Holding. Water balloons?
And Char sees my gaze no longer on her, is turning, is halfway around to face them as the balloons are tossed. Thrown at her alongside some choice words. Unintelligible words, foreign and old sounding.
A curse, or a demand, based on their tone?
One balloon strikes Char's bare leg below the tight black school skirt, the other scoring a direct hit on the sideswell of her breast.
Soaking her blue short sleeved shirt as both balloons explode on impact, expelling a strong herb like smell, the water discoloured with a slight purple tint.
Char screams as though in pain, too loud and too high, all three of us forced to clasp hands over ears. Flinching.
Watching, wide eyed and disbelieving despite having seen it before, as something black rises snake like off her, out of Char's belly to slither up through the air towards the high ceiling.
Escaping?
No. The speed, the mostly straightline arrowness of it. Not escaping but forced out. Pushed.
Blinding flash of white. Blinking, seeing the darkness- sucked -vanish back into Char.
Who screams again.
Turning, fast, to stare at me her eyes turned black as midnight, too many sharp teeth in her mouth and I take a step back. Raising my hands in surrender.
And somewhere in the boiling mess of my fear, my traitor body finds a moment to light a tingle deep in my belly at the thought of giving in.
"You." Head whipping about, body too, facing the two friends putting me at her back.
Yet I dare not move nor relinquish the pose.
"Stupid." Stalking forwards a step. "Amateurs."
"E." Both of them backed up as she came on. Having to swallow before trying again. "Echo?"
"So." Char's voice coming from whatever she's become which just makes it all so much worse. Hers, yet there's an unevenness to the delivery, a sudden rising pitch midway through the occasional word, almost shrieking.
"You. Know one. Thing, little more then nothing. And yet."
Bringing her left arm up, staring at some loose looking dirty off red bracelet which. Surely? Should've fallen off whilst her arm was dangling.
"You." Voice rising as she speaks, pitch and volume. Anger. "Are clearly incapable. Of saving any of, us."
Stalking, leaping forwards and my memory flashes back to the woods as darkness explodes out from her, as Char seems to fly at her two friends. Who scream as she laughs.
A cruel sound.
The darkness bubbles and rolls, the lighting above flashing and sparking, a half dozen giving up and blinking permanently off. A second scream turns muffled, followed by two thuds.
Moaning.
And Char, back standing in the corridor as the night recedes, dissipating like cloud.
Revealing her friends, laid on the carpeted floor. Tied up.
They've been bound together, pressed tight belly to belly in what must be a very embarrassing manner even, or especially for close friends.
My traitor insides picturing myself and Char, welcoming, wanting it.
Each girls arms are around her friend, tied off at the small of the others back, lashed to the others waist. More rope, not around the upper arms only the upper body, pins chest against chest, breasts squashed. The ankles are a mess of rope, joined together in some crossed four way fashion that has all four legs moving in unison as they struggle.
Lips locked by some manner of cloth gag, each girls head wrapped by what actually goes in the others mouth, pressing them together, forcing a long drawn out kiss.
Moaning. Struggling. Wriggling and rubbing against each other which can't be helping, and at some point- if not already -who's to say one of them won't start to like that girl on girl intimacy.
Char turns to face me, her still black eyes making me flinch and am I next?
"You. Dare."
"Hey, now." A new voice, a grown ups voice. "Stop that?"
Sounding unsure at the end and I don't blame her. Miss Green, thirty something and quite plump, thick limbs with a sizable belly and chest forever barely contained within a variety of colourful dresses, glasses, natural red hair always tied back. One of the English teachers.
Approaching in fits and starts, looking from Char's- not a clue to their names -friends to Char, to me.
"Charlotte Waters." Trying for calm but voice wavering. "Just what is going on here?"
Char grins at me, actually winks like it's all a game. Steps back and pivots.
Springs, literally launching herself upwards and forwards, towards Miss Green as though she were a drawn thing and not real. Somehow able to defy trivial things like gravity.
Miss Green gasps, which rises to a scream as in mid air the darkness envelops Char, bursting out around her and an instant later the angry looking patch of it streaks toward.
Engulfs Miss Green.
Receding. Char standing at the middle point of the triangle we three groups make, Miss Green now- and I can't help the slightly crazy sounding giggle that fights clear of my throat -bound too. Wrists roped behind her back and joined to bound, crossed ankles to make her body a curving arch. Bound chest pushed out and wobbling as she struggles and fights. Her whole head- doubtful since by her chest I can see her breathing, probably tiny nostril holes -covered by a tight fitting black hood.
"So." Char takes a deep breath. Calming? And when she talks now her voice is back to Char's normal tone and infection, no more rising shrieks or strange pauses.
So, calmer, yes.
"Amateurs." Looking from me to her friends, still occasionally wriggling, moaning. "To think you can cast out what you have already trapped. To imagine life to be so easy."
Shaking her head. Dismayed? Disappointed? In us all.
"And you."
With a start I realise she's staring only at me. Yelping and flinching moments later as Char stutter jumps- wrapped quickly in darkness, disappearing, appearing an instant later as her tamed night dissipates -from several metres away to inches away.
Screwing my eyes closed.
"Please." Like a whisper, not daring to even breathe.
"Look at me girl." Kind? Char's voice, friendly even, slight amusement.
I open my eyes, finding Char's black gaze on me, small teeth filled smile and behind her, all around her the world appears blurry. Out of focus as though unimportant.
"She likes you." Staring at me whilst I fight to remain calm. "So, to my keeper I shall grant this boon." Char nods.
"Put your hands behind you, girl."
Which, shaking, I comply. Feeling the pinch and tug moments later, feeling the impossible act of ropes binding and wrapping my crossed wrists all by themself as Char remains still, slipping around my waist to pin them in place. Tightening, securing.
Breath coming fast, my chest rising and falling and.
Forgetting how to breathe moments later as Char closes what small distance existed between us, her hands coming up to cup my breasts, gently squeezing even whilst her lips find mine, gentle pressure of her kiss.
Which I feel myself responding to, a whole swarm of nerves birthing in my belly at the feel of her hands on my E cups. The ropes binding me and her lips, her tongue slipping towards mine.
As Char blinks. A second time, normal looking whites and irises going wide and hands briefly gripping harder.
In shock?
Making me gasp, the I'm barely aware of it and don't particularly care right now world around flooding back into focus.
Char's lips brushing mine for a second kiss and.
"What?" Shouted, a man's deep voice followed by the thump of booted footsteps, running. Approaching.
Tearing my attention away from Char, stepped back. Looking confused, looking from her hands to my chest, to my eyes and I offer her a hopeful smile.
"Charlotte Waters." That same male voice, anger in that shout. "What is the meaning of this disaster I see before you?"
Watching as Char blinks, seeing her gaze alight on the rope wrapping my waist. Turning, watching her flinch, jump as she spots Miss Green. Still flopping and rolling, moaning inside that tight full closure hood.
Hand going to her mouth as her sweep brings her around to her friends.
And, finally and by now I'm looking too. Mr Castleford, fifty something and always in a suit, cropped greying hair and a trimmed beard. A no nonsense History teacher.
Looking angry, standing with hands on hips, staring at Char as though contemplating the reinstatement of corporal punishment.
Well now, that was interesting. It appears the being can be driven out, if only momentarily. I'm thinking the bracelet is why it returned. Of course, the talk of being a trophy sounded good to me.
Keep going. I'm locked in on this one.
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
It appears the being can be driven out, if only momentarily. I'm thinking the bracelet is why it returned.
True.
So far the being, Echo, has tried to leave multiple times: that first night, attempting to cross from Char to Chelle in the woods. Add in the attempted driving out.
But on each occasion it is the bracelet- blinding white light -preventing Echo from leaving.
The interesting element here being that the bracelet forced Echo back even when Char's friends were attempting to rid her of the being.
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
Of course, the talk of being a trophy sounded good to me.
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
So far the being, Echo, has tried to leave multiple times: that first night, attempting to cross from Char to Chelle in the woods. Add in the attempted driving out.
But on each occasion it is the bracelet- blinding white light -preventing Echo from leaving.
The interesting element here being that the bracelet forced Echo back even when Char's friends were attempting to rid her of the being.
And it is quite upset at the fact, as it does not seem all that interested in staying around. This chapter does a good job of re-framing the situation from the entity being malicious to lashing out in anger and frustration. Just as much a victim of the circumstances as the rest of them.
In fact I would not be surprised if it thinks that they are intentionally taunting it, forcing it to stay in it's new body.
The question becomes, will they figure out what went wrong? And will they then figure out some way to drive it out without allowing it to inhabit someone else (as it would likely attempt to do if the bracelet were removed)?
Quite the tangled web you have woven for these unfortunate characters.
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
So far the being, Echo, has tried to leave multiple times: that first night, attempting to cross from Char to Chelle in the woods. Add in the attempted driving out.
But on each occasion it is the bracelet- blinding white light -preventing Echo from leaving.
The interesting element here being that the bracelet forced Echo back even when Char's friends were attempting to rid her of the being.
And it is quite upset at the fact, as it does not seem all that interested in staying around. This chapter does a good job of re-framing the situation from the entity being malicious to lashing out in anger and frustration. Just as much a victim of the circumstances as the rest of them.
In fact I would not be surprised if it thinks that they are intentionally taunting it, forcing it to stay in it's new body.
The question becomes, will they figure out what went wrong? And will they then figure out some way to drive it out without allowing it to inhabit someone else (as it would likely attempt to do if the bracelet were removed)?
Definitely, showing the other angle: Echo as a thinking intelligent thing, almost certainly dragged (as per my small aside chapter) into this and understandably not to happy with the fact.
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
"You. Know one. Thing, little more then nothing. And yet."
Bringing her left arm up, staring at some loose looking dirty off red bracelet which. Surely? Should've fallen off whilst her arm was dangling.
"You." Voice rising as she speaks, pitch and volume. Anger. "Are clearly incapable. Of saving any of, us."
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
"Amateurs." Looking from me to her friends, still occasionally wriggling, moaning. "To think you can cast out what you have already trapped. To imagine life to be so easy."
Shaking her head. Dismayed? Disappointed? In us all.
These are the two key exchanges/moments in 008, these two parts are me, backing up my work and attempting to guide towards the fact Echo isn't all she may seem.
Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago
Your style fits perfectly to the story.
After all this time. Indecision, should I seek help or not? Is there any point?
Why am I still here, my consciousness not permanently buried by whatever monster sits deep in my core.
Coming so close to confiding, to asking, only to decide no.
Avoiding Chelle too.
Until fate, or bad luck, steps in. Bringing us together, and there's something: nerves clear on both sides but neither of us running, effort being made.
Chelle, losing focus?
Turning to follow her distracted gaze, only seeing Tash and Sammy after their attack is launched.
Time.
Indecision.
All of it becoming mute as water explodes, soaking, and shockingly bringing a moments burning pain, searing breast and leg. Feels like I'm being torn apart.
A flash of white I've seen before, connected somehow to everything.
And then darkness, numbness taking the pain away, taking me away. Only this time there's more. A sense of rage, a rising flood of anger and power, feeling muscles and various inner parts of me light up and sing even whilst my thoughts are sunk.
Power enough to end the world.
Because they, my well meaning friends who very obviously do know something. Tash and Sammy attacked, so of course the monster is coming, charging up out of my depths to retaliate.
What point trying to hide and plan when one well intentioned strike takes it all out of my hands?
Darkness.
For one- it always seems -breath. Breaking the surface after, flailing, the word.
Boon.
Tolling throughout my insides. Deafening, too loud but fading as I grimace, flinch. Hands grasping, harder as though I were drowning. Instinct, wanting to be saved.
Focus quickly returning and I'm. Kissing? Chelle. Grasping? Her impressively large chest.
Confusion running rampant, as it always does upon returning. Stepping back, looking around and dismay wipes out the surge of happiness discovering Chelle's lips on mine had created.
Chelle.
Miss Green, I think?
Tash and Sammy.
All of them bound, helpless to varying degrees and I suppose given the felt rage I should be grateful the school is still standing.
The world still turning.
Although: that truly thunderous look, Mr Castleford's own suppressed anger. Prehaps not.
Dismay. Despair. Feeling small and rotten. I could give two fucks about the teacher, had almost laughed in fact. And Chelle seems, possibly and that word. 'Boon.' A gift, isn't it, and Chelle didn't seem to mind, the ropes or the kiss. Did she really play, let Dylan play more like, with her?
So Chelle, no. Not feeling too bad about her either.
My friends though, I can't look them in the eye once Mr Castleford begins shouting. Nothing like authority to make you feel like shit. I can't look at all, beyond rare quick glances, at Tash and Sammy.
What it did to them. Yes, okay they attacked, instigated. There's an argument for retaliation floating amongst all the sinking sense of doom. But to bind them in such a. Close. Fashion, to force lips to lips, chests together.
It humiliated them, but because the skin, the face is mine I feel in part that I bound them.
Humiliated, because rolling in behind Mr Castleford come several dozen schoolboys and girls, drawn by his raised voice or already coming, drawn instead by.
What does the monster do? When it comes, is there spectacle? Flash and bang, or is the binding and whatever else subtle, silent?
Regardless, they pile in behind. And see, and giggle, and take pictures and there's too many of them for one teacher to force back.
Until help arrives but by then it's too late, several dozen has become several dozen more.
Doomed.
Fucked.
Pushed off a cliff by the monster inside, which clearly doesn't understand- or most likely doesnt care about -consequences.
They use some form of heavy duty gardening shears to cut everyone free. Carefully. And I think of asking them, those two caretakers keeping a polite yet obvious distance away from me, to cut off the bracelet.
But then forget.
Miss Green, face revealed and yes it's her. Flinching as our gazes briefly meet and inside I sink a little lower as she's led away by female colleagues.
After which Mr Castleford escorts the four of us towards the main school entrance, and maybe they'll simply throw me off the property, no trial only execution?
No.
At the main entrance sits reception, a desk and behind this offices.
The headteacher, and school counsellor amongst others.
I'm very nearly physically pushed into the former, still unable to look any of the other three in the eye, only seeing, hearing their feet, receding away towards the warm glow of 'are you alright' and probably a lollipop.
And- you'd assume luckily -Mr Castleford has a class to teach. But there's no happy ending for me today. His anger is replaced by Mrs Morgan's, the headteacher.
Who shouts.
Who demands to know such impossible answers as why, and don't I understand that the teachers, school as a whole, is there to help me.
Not- fighting to keep off a smirk, losing -as a thing to be abused.
Needless to say my lack of composure doesn't go down well. I can't help it though, I've stepped beyond caring, knowing I'm almost certainly suspended, probably soon to be expelled.
What's the fucking point caring when it- the monster -could just step back in at any point. And next time do something ten, a hundred times worse.
My parents are called, by which time because the details are just too fantastical to believe, or maybe because Miss Green didn't relate everything?
And what did my friends, Chelle. What have they been saying?
By the time my parents step into the office all they're getting told, because I've witnessed the change in Mrs Morgan's questioning, is that I've abused a teacher, and three pupils.
Not the how. Not yet anyway.
And.
Not suspension. My sentence hammered out in front of me, my input not sought. For two weeks I'll be taught in isolation, by Mrs Morgan herself, during which time evidence will be gathered, during which time I'll meet with the counsellor for quote unquote therapy and exploration sessions. And in two weeks we'll all: me, my parents and Mrs Morgan, the counsellor and the school board of governors.
We'll meet, in fourteen days.
And then I'll be expelled.
Obviously.
Taken home, the silence of the- forever, time slowing down now I'm so deep in my despair I can't even see the sun -journey broken only once, by my parents. Explaining the new house rules.
Grounded.
No more phone or Internet access.
Driven to and picked up from school.
So, basically, no more friends, no more Chelle. Or even Dylan and that avenue of fun.
And it's made quite clear their combined level of disappointment in me, that I'm to largely remain in my room. Out of sight.
Bored shitless but isn't that what the guilty, the condemned or hanged man, deserves?
Two.
Days.
Of nothing. Of waking and being a class of one. Of Mrs Morgan's stern gaze and unwillingness to do anything beyond placing a stack of worksheets down before me, not even trying to talk or engage with me, about anything.
Lunch eaten in her office and dinner in my room.
Two.
Days.
I might even go crazy.
But on the third morning, a Saturday. I wake to the- slightly later -alarm, stretch pushing arms up and legs down.
Hear a moan beside me.
Tear my eyes open and look left, discovering Lauren, laid between me and the wall my bed is pushed against.
Goodness. This chapter perfectly captures the essence of despair. (Teenage angst anyone?)
That little surprise about her sister is welcome. Seems she had started to enjoy the bonds after all. (Why else would she be in Char's room.)
I already want more.
As already mentioned, perfectly brings across the resigned dullness that Charlotte feels, with how the whole thing is told in a distant way, as if the events were happening to someone else and not her.
The ending leaves quite a few possibilities. Perhaps whatever change had come over Lauren was long term/genuine. Or perhaps Charlotte is not the only one who is bored of the situation...
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
What would happen is possibly straight out expulsion
Not wrong there - the punishment is quite unusual (and arguably cruel in some ways).
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
I've got plans and thoughts
BlissfulMisery wrote: 11 months ago
The ending leaves quite a few possibilities. Perhaps whatever change had come over Lauren was long term/genuine. Or perhaps Charlotte is not the only one who is bored of the situation...
Possibilities, at least some of which will be answered below
There isn't much space in my single bed, not because of the wall, which I actually, usually sleep pressed up against. On my side facing out into the dark emptiness, feeling safer for it.
The lack of space comes from the fact it's a single bed, from the fact I- thanks to repeated sleepovers at Sammy's -know how much bigger a bed can be.
But I'm not against the wall now, that spot is occupied by Lauren, my older sister. Bound and gagged, her slim bulk eating up half the small mattress area.
I'm staring, she's staring back.
Blinking.
"Ppppfffffggg ssssslllmmmnn."
"I...." Don't have a fucking clue what's going on. Lauren's moan had been soft, no trace of the usual baseline anger she deploys like armour. No demand either, her gag scrambled moan accompanied by the forward thrusting of chest and belly, brushing herself against me.
Like a pet, saying hello?
Whatever might follow becoming- temporarily -mute due to a half dozen sudden loud bangs, shaking my bedroom door within the frame. Locking wide eyes with my sister even as dad's voice comes clearly through the wood. Gruff and unfriendly.
"Charlotte?"
"Yes." Surprising myself with the sudden turn of speed, from laying in bed, leaping up and off, crossing the room to impact the still opening door. Putting out one foot wedge like to prevent a further widening, blocking the view by inserting myself into the small gap.
Quickly glancing down, checking- pale blue vest top with an overly cute cartoon panda holding a red balloon printed and stretched across my braless chest, grey shorts -I'm dressed? Decent?
Dad, possibly seeing or otherwise common sense coming by some other means. Seeming to realise the stupidity, the wrongness of his intended walking in on his teenage daughter. Possibly sleeping, possibly topless or worse.
Naked.
Taking a step back, grimace crossing his face and lowered hands spread wide like an apology.
"You're awake?"
"Yes, dad."
"We're going out." Flicked nod towards the stairs. "For a couple of hours."
"Okay."
"We're trusting you Charlotte."
"Yes."
My tone somewhere close to deadpan, devoid of emotion. I'm still, largely, in the pit.
"Have you seen your sister?" Glancing towards Lauren's open bedroom door. "She's not usually awake and out so early?"
"I." Almost, nearly because instinct is a hard thing to fight and yes I have seen her.
I very nearly turn and shift to peer around the door, back into my room. Where Lauren is right now.
On my bed, bound and helpless. Listening.
"No." Slight shake in my voice, hard to ignore the inner voice screaming the truth. "Sorry."
"Right."
Dad fidgets. I wait.
"Listen. Charlotte." Aiming for a softer tone. "Let's just get through this meeting, at your school. Your mother and I, we want the best for you, and we do hope these things have been...."
Running out of words, a silent shrug.
Hoping I'm innocent? Knowing I'm not?
Unwilling to talk to me regardless, to hear my side, which I couldn't tell them anyway.
Where would I even start?
"Yes, dad." I nod. Watch him leave, standing, peering out at the now deserted corridor until I hear the front door close.
Turn around, lean back against the solid cold wood. Breathe.
Stare at- there's no fucking way she did this to herself, which means the monster is still using her as a plaything, to bind and gag at will, somehow dragging or whatever her into my bed this time too -Lauren.
An angry goth teen with the purple hair to prove it. Lauren's onesie, which I've seen her slouch around all evening in and still be wearing the same the following morning, is black. A unicorn complete with white horn atop the pulled up hood, hot pink mane tumbling down to the shoulders and a same coloured tail erupting from the butt.
She's bound with coarse white rope, ankles and knees, legs pinned together. Wrists behind her, pinned by rope to her waist and more rope circling her chest, above and below the breasts. Over the shoulder to dive between, down then back up the other side.
And her onesie front is unzipped. Quite far. Luckily the rope, pinching and squeezing, is holding the black short fur covered fabric in place but it's a close thing.
There's almost a nipple on display.
Shocks of purple hair are visible either side of the hood, and a white cloth is wrapped around Lauren's head, gagging her, teeth visibly biting down.
"Fffgggmmmm dddss rrrhhhpppffmm." Wriggling, blinking at me her tone still soft but.
Surely last time was a fluke, some weird accident. Lauren having an off day and when I remove her gag, crossing the room to do so now, she'll shout at me for sure.
"Morning."
"Laur." Kneeling beside her, cloth in hand. Waiting and bracing for it. I've barely seen her since the last time, mere days ago. Her busy life and all the shit I'm now sunk into.
We haven't had time to talk, she hasn't had time to shout at me.
Until now.
"They've gone out?"
Her tone still soft, the oddness making me fidget on the spot.
"Yes." I nod. "For a couple of hours."
"Right." Nodding, looking up at me as though waiting and.
Right. Stupid girl, just because she isn't shouting doesn't mean.
"I'll." Looking down at the gag, tossing it with a grimace. "I," waving a hand at her bound wrists, "should?"
"You don't have to." Offering me a- creepy because it's so unlike her -smile. "Lay back down. Please. Relax."
Not just the offer to lay down and not free her, but. Please?
And it feels wrong, and so fucking weird. But bizarrely it feels equally wrong to refuse. So I, tentative and slow, ease myself back down onto the bed.
Feeling the shock travel through me, jumping as Lauren wriggles closer, rubbing her bound front against my side again.
"Are you okay, sis?"
"Sure I." Deep breath, and fuck it. My older sister, who hates. Hated? Me, is now bound in my bed, acting like a cross between my new best friend and something I own, that wants to please me.
Fuck it, I'm going to push back.
"No."
"No?"
"To be honest, Laur." Huffing out a breath, all my woes. "Things are kinda shit right now."
"So." Burrowing, squirming back against me. "Talk to me."
Odd. Wrong. Weird. Not in a sexual way, despite I can feel her rope pinched breasts bracketing my arm. No, this is closeness, comfort like a sleepover, but odd because it's her.
With nowhere to go though, no more bed left to escape to. I stay put, patting her upper thigh which apparently equals permission. Or something?
Lauren pushing herself closer still, resting her head on my shoulder.
Definitely- fucked up -getting pet vibes here.
Where to start, and how much to say?
"Why are you here Laur?"
"Oh." The question had slipped out, seeking too many answers, I glance sideways to see her frown.
"You." Unsure tone. "Bought me here?" Confusion on her face. "But, if you want I could struggle back to my room?"
"Oh. Um."
Not: you could free me so I can leave. Instead: I'll struggle someplace out of sight.
"Or you can lock me in the box?"
"No." Half shouted, to shut her up because. The fuck? She's sounding so sincere. So, ready and willing to comply.
To please me.
I change the subject.
"I miss my friends." Huffing. "No phone, and I'm grounded because of...."
Not wanting to speak details, not when I'm so unsure myself.
"They're." Pausing, thoughtful. "Mum and dad." Nodding to herself. "Are mad at you." Straining forward and kissing my cheek before I realise she's going to. "But it's okay. Char. I'm here."
I honestly can't remember the last time she called me Char? I've stuck with Laur, because there's still respect flowing in at least one direction. But.
"Well." Not wanting to appear ungrateful. "Thanks, Laur."
"You can use my phone?"
"I." Have thought about it, stealing Lauren's phone, dozens of times. But. "No." Shaking my head, sinking inside but laughing because. "I don't know Tash or Sammy's number."
I'm not allowed on Facebook, for my own good slash protection, until I go to college. So it's WhatsApp only for instant messaging.
And that requires a phone number.
"But I've got. Um?" Trailing off and when I look, she's thinking.
"Laur?"
"Michelle?"
"What about." Feeling a flutter in my belly. "Michelle?"
"She was there at the station, yesterday." Nodding. "Met me off the bus."
"Red hair?" Not allowing myself to believe, that Michelle, Chelle, would deliberately seek out my older sister. For me. "Slim and...."
Really large breasts.
"Yes." Smiling like a person expecting a treat. "She said, none of them could ring your phone, so. She gave me her number. Because maybe."
Which news: that Tash and Sammy have been trying to get in touch, that they likely aren't mad. At me.
The somewhat odd pairing of Tash and Sammy, with Chelle, raising some questions too.
I grin at Lauren, wide. Happy and her own smile grows.
"Did I, do good. Char?"
"Yes." Not thinking, rolling onto my side and pulling Lauren into a hug. Only realising as I hear her sigh.
Satisfied. Rewarded.
Like someone- a pet -who just wants to do good.
And it feels like moments later I'm stood back in my room, pacing. Holding Lauren's unlocked- she'd told me how -phone, staring at Chelle's number.
The green call icon seeming to pulse.
Scared to ring. Embarrassed to talk to her, a normal conversation, something we've never done.
Wanting privacy but this is my room. Glancing at Lauren, back at her phone.
"Gag me."
"What?" Caught out and almost dropping the phone, staring at Lauren.
"If you want." Licking her lips, voice calm. Always calm. "Or wish. Gag me, so I'm not a nuisance."
"Well...." It would help, shutting her up. I'd feel better, more confident knowing she couldn't interrupt. But. "Are you, sure?"
"Should I beg?"
And, because my mouth is on the floor, into the- stunned -silence Lauren continues.
"Please. Char. I want to be gagged. By you."
"Ri." Having to swallow, manging not to shiver because that was completely unnerving. "Right."
I use the white cloth. Making a knot in the middle, which I've seen Dylan do before. Controlling a second shiver as Lauren obediently opens wide, biting down on the gag, being still, patient, whilst I wrap and bind it.
"Dddggg hhfffmmnn rrrssspppnn." Nodding at me as I retreat across the room, stretching, pushing her chest out. At me.
Fucked. Up.
I swipe to dial, before my nerve completely fails.
"Yes?"
"It's." Voice a whisper. I cough, managing to increase and mostly even it out. "Char."
"Char?" Surprise, a brief pause. "On your sisters phone?"
"Mines confiscated."
"She let you borrow it?"
"Yeah." Looking up at Lauren, laid facing me. Body encased in tight ropes, gagged mouth beginning to drool. "She, um. Let me."
"She seemed like a bit of a bitch." Tone lowered as though she suspects Lauren might be listening. And I can't stop the laugh bubbling free.
My sister. Bound, begging for the gag.
"She's." Looking, and Lauren blinks at me. I offer a thumbs up and.
"Mmmnnnfffggggnnnnnnnnn." Accompanied by a stretch, a flex of her body, ripple like from neck to toes.
"She's okay." I tell Chelle, blushing at the partial lie.
"I talked to your. Well, To Samantha and Natasha."
"Tash and Sammy?"
"Right."
"They wanted me to tell you, they're okay. And they miss you."
"They." Swallowing to fight off the tears, wiping my eye at the rouge few who made it through. "Did?"
My friends aren't mad. At me, and suddenly the world seems a better, lighter place.
"They really want to talk to you." Voice dropping again. Secrets? "About Echo."
"Echo?"
"That's what it's called." Sounding unsure. "The. Um, thing?"
"Right."
"They." Nervous laughter. "Tried to tell me stuff, a whole bunch of fucking stuff to tell you. But...."
"But?"
Because she'd just stopped.
"Is this real, Char?"
"I think." Letting out a breath. Nodding. "Some of it is. There's too much weird shit surrounding me."
"Yeah." Another laugh. "I saw...."
"Saw?"
Nothing. Chelle remains silent, and I can't blame her. Really.
"I don't think I'll be able to see any of you." Feeling sadness well up, missing them all but. "Until after this big meeting where I'm being expelled."
"It won't be that bad?"
"I tied up a teacher." Managing to laugh. Gallows humour. "On school grounds. Chelle. I don't think you get to come back from that."
We say goodbye, I'm beginning to feel defeated. Again. Not in any mood for casual talk.
Echo?
I wonder.
"I'm." Kneeling beside the bed, eye to eye with Lauren, who stares back. "Going to the bathroom."
"Dddgggrrrmmm." Nodding.
"Will." Biting my lip, feeling silly. Wrong. But for some perverse reason right now I want to flex my- assumed and largely unproven -power. I stop, breathe and start again. "You will wait here." Nodding with as much authority as I can manage. "Because I wish it."
"Nnnmmmfff dddsssrrrttt pppffmm." Nodding again, wriggling.
Making herself comfortable?
What the fuck am I doing?
In the bathroom, door halfway closed and standing at the sink. Breathing, for long minutes just breathing, slow, regular. Staring down at my hands.
Feeling something inside, in my belly. An uncoiling sensation, a gathering and I've felt it once before.
Kneeling beside bound Lauren, eyes finding the mirror in her room that morning.
Like it knows.
Calm. Sort of. Bringing my gaze up, staring into the mirror at my reflection.
Not one minute later not five as I stand. Staring, feeling increasingly silly.
"Might as well say Candyman or Blo-"
Tingling numbness racing out from my left shoulder. And in the mirror I see it. Her.
Echo.
Black as night and halfway transparent, vague detail of the bath, the shower curtain seen through her. As though she were smoke, insubstantial.
Over six foot tall and slim, naked. Huge pert bust looking impossibly perfect, long curling hair wavering and shifting as though teased by a slight breeze. Right hand resting on my left shoulder, contact, standing behind and just to one side of me.
From her back eight tentacle like appendages sprout, curving and arching out and around, almost framing her from head to thighs. Something of the spider in their arrangement and number?
For a second. Less, she stares at me with black eyes. Dead eyes. Her mouth set in a thin line and even so the visible tips of shark like teeth protrude top and bottom.
"Are y-" I manage, before the bracelet I'm forever forgetting, dangling useless on my left wrist flashes white. Blinding.
And as I blink the world back to focus she's gone.
I thought I posted my comment.
She has a sister that wants to be her prisoner
A special friend that wants to be more
Friends thst want to help her
She knows the name of the spirit inside her. She nearly has a chance to talk to it! Then........that blasted bracelet interferes!!!!!
I'm ready for more when your ready to post it!
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
I thought I posted my comment.
Hate. It when that happens. I really appreciate that you posted a second time, as it were.
Thank you for making the effort
Syko Sith wrote: 11 months ago
She has a sister that wants to be her prisoner
A special friend that wants to be more
Friends thst want to help her
She knows the name of the spirit inside her. She nearly has a chance to talk to it! Then........that blasted bracelet interferes!!!!!
So.
Yes, it certainly seems Lauren is auditioning for the role of prisoner/pet/slave.
And Michelle, going above and beyond to initiate contact, plus the fact of the binding and kissing, does seem to want more.
Her friends have, are, trying to help.
And frustratingly, she did- finally -make contact only to be stopped by the bracelet.
Happy to see you're following along, that my intentions are being understood/are coming across
Dpsiic wrote: 11 months ago
Your mind is a strange and wondrous place.
Thank you
Happy to take that compliment, I know non magic/supernatural TUGs always perform better, views and comments wise, but I really enjoy writing these types of stories.
Giving my mind a chance to stretch.
RopeBunny wrote: 11 months ago
Yes, it certainly seems Lauren is auditioning for the role of prisoner/pet/slave.
Indeed. Although I would be surprised if Echo did not have some part to play in that.
At least Charlotte more or less understands the situation now. Question is if she will decide to remove the bracelet, and what will happen if she does. Echo has been behaving in a somewhat benevolent fashion on occasion, but the thing with otherworldly entities is that they do not tend to play by human rules - or adhere to human norms.
May not be the best idea to remove the proverbial leash.
Merton Comprehensive.
Counsellor: Sideways, Miss Eleanor.
Pupil: Waters, Miss Charlotte.
Transcribed notes taken during sessions one (1) through three (3) of four (4)
Incident in question: Charlotte abused, by way of binding and gagging, a member of staff. Miss Stacey Green. Also attacked in the same manner were pupils Miss Natasha Beech and Miss Samantha Mitchell. Both believed to be friends of Charlotte's. To a lesser degree- wrists only -Miss Michelle Smith, another year ten pupil, was involved too.
Unconfirmed reports of strange disturbances at the time. Testimonial of Miss Green largely incoherent. The three pupils involved so far refusing to offer up any details.
-------
Session one (1)
The aim being to put Charlotte at her ease, to show her this, my office, was a safe space. A space within which she could talk, freely and without fear.
I therefore spent the session waiting for her, to open up. To talk.
Not wanting to push, to force.
Unfortunately Charlotte declined, remaining silent. Sullen, eyes downcast throughout.
-------
Session two (2)
A different tactic.
I'm aware, was sent a copy of the ongoing plan, that Charlotte is confined to Mrs Morgan's office during school hours.
So this session, the sun dipping between clouds, we went outside. Spending the hour walking slow circles of the school field perimeter.
Somewhat of a bribe, a trick. Yes, but quid pro quo too. She gets, I get.
It's a fresh week, and having spent the weekend at home.
-note, must talk to Charlotte's parents regarding any useful details they have, before the scheduled meeting-
Charlotte appears happier. Smiling, face turned up not cast down.
And she, we, talk.
Though unfortunately she dodges, refuses, to answer any direct questions regarding the incident.
-------
Session three (3)
Paper, pencils, colouring pens and pastels. Various art supplies because.
If you can't, won't, talk about it perhaps she'll be prepared to draw it?
To draw, anything relevant.
My remit can only extend so far. There's only so far I'm allowed to demand and probe.
I'm unable to force.
However, with a shrug, a glance at me, Charlotte settles down and begins creating.
Progress?
What she produces is.
Different.
A page filled entirely with black pastel shading, total darkness and yet within are barely defined shapes. Teeth. Eyes. Tentacles.
It means, I'm informed as she leaves, that some things are best left alone.
I'm glad you're still enjoying it.
