The Bondage Models of Pod F (F+/F+) - Complete

[AlexUSA3]

Chapter 013: Ashley’s Birthday Part 4 - Her Party
Saturday, June 13, 2015

“So, Hannah, I got a phone call in the car,” Ashley smiled at me when we got to the house, “Tay and Maddy are getting out soon, and they think Hannah will get sprung about the same time.”
“Yeah, they’d have been starting recreation about that time, right?” I asked her.
“Yes, they were.”
“Ashley, I hope today was the birthday you hoped it would be. We tried our best,” I looked into her confused, brown eyes.
“Hannah, today was very stressful but very good. I am distraught by many things,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry, but just look at how many people jammed into this house just for you.”

There were several others besides us Bondagettes. Jenny, Nichole, Luisa, Joy, and Casey had all joined our little party, and it turned out that today was also Joy’s birthday. That was a perfect set of circumstances. Even today, you can’t tell me that God made Ashley and Joy to share this day, but you can convince me that He was waiting for me to serve as a catalyst toward friendship for all in this group of nerds, misfits, and innocents. Don’t worry. We still play bondage games, but we play them in a very different manner nowadays even if we’re still a bit kinky.

Someone was exploring her kinky side while I eagerly introduced Ashley to the Cool Girls’ Club members.

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Interlude 56: Taylor Zawislak
Thursday, July 11, 2013

“And then the alarm went off,” the girl said with regret while we ate lunch.

Taylor had found herself in a really screwed up situation that had seen her wind up bound and gagged because her drug slinger boyfriend, from whom she got supplies, had accumulated debts with his own boss. Taylor had been kidnapped and found herself with three choices to help him pay back his debts: (1) play real life Grand Theft Auto by robbing a house, (2) letting herself be used as a sex toy, or (3) being killed. She chose (1), but as soon as she got the desired things to the dealer he abandoned her for the arriving police to arrest.

Taylor Zawislak had dark, almost black, hair, and big brown eyes that showed her sadness at her actions. She was different: she had disappointed but fully supporting parents. For Taylor, it was bullying that led her to drugs despite her conscience. Perhaps it was a family that attended mass only on the major holy days, but it was one that had order and expectations. You could say hers was a religious version of Kylie’s household.

“Why did I do it?” she asked Ashley with tears in her eyes.
“Taylor, you listened to the wrong people, and you are facing the consequences.”
“I’ll never fix this. I got bagged on felony drug possession!” I could hear the desperation.
“I understand,” I said, “We have a friend who’s now on the outside, and she’s doing OK.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“It means it’s not over. You can overcome this. At least, since it’s a Thursday, your parents can come see you tonight.”

She let out a sigh, and it was the beginning of one of the most amazing friendships I know, one between Taylor and Ashley. They helped each other in so many ways that I will begin to discuss in the coming chapters.

——————————————————————————————

“Michela, I want to try something new. Today helped me decide that I want to take the juvie law track in my major. It's been an eyeopener, but I need your help,” Alexandra rambled.
“Juvie law track?! Where?!” Michela jumped on those words, “Where, Xandra?”
“Well, I’m a pre-law student over at St. Catherine's College in St. Paul.”
“I’m calling there on Monday! Now, what was your question?”
“I want to learn how to kidnap someone,” Xandra reduced her voice to a whisper.
“You came to the right place!” Mary-Ann sprang up behind her and hand gagged her.

Alexandra was effortlessly dragged off into Mary-Ann’s bedroom with a curious girl falling in behind them. Yes, I’m talking about myself. I was of course interested in what was happening with Xandra, especially once I saw the subtle and rapid hand gag technique. Alexandra wasn’t used to such abusive techniques, but she’d get used to the CGC with time. What was important was that she had a goal in mind.

“If I kidnapped someone, who should it be? I get the idea of how to tie someone after getting to watch you girls today,” she was really eager to try it.
“Casey,” I blurted, “She loves people just for being alive, and she doesn’t fight much.”
“Why doesn’t she fight?” Alexandra’s eyes narrowed with concern, “She doesn’t look like a…”
“No, no! Not special needs. She’s handicapped is all. Long story, but she’s physically weak.”
“I’m not picking on a cripple, am I?” she was so sweet and considerate, “Or does she like it?”
“She likes it, and you two are as natural of a friendship waiting to happen as you and Michela.”
“Oh, believe Hannah,” Michela quickly agreed, “You will love Casey!”
“All right!” she smiled brightly, “Let’s do. Hannah, will you help me?”

Mary-Ann then kindly showed us her supplies and let Alexandra take anything she thought she’d need. The newest member of our clique was quickly growing to love this game of TUGs.

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Interlude 57: Madison Hill
Wednesday, April 24, 2013

“You got the dough?” Madison asked her fellow robber.
“Yeah!” the other said, “Let's split!”
“Get in!” the getaway driver ordered them.
“My door’s locked!” Madison whined, but they took off without her.
“Freeze!” she heard a cop shout and knew she'd been set up.
“I surrender!” the young blonde threw her arms up, “Please don't shoot!”

Later that day, Maddy Hill enters Pod F for what will be 2 years for her role in an armed robbery of a jewelry store. She never heard from her “friends” ever again, and very disappointed parents soon arrived at the prison. Because she was arrested so recently, she was allowed to five minutes with them during which she profusely apologized for succumbing to peer pressure.

“Maddy, we’re disappointed, but…,” her father said with difficulty, “We still love you.”
“They said they love me,” she repeated to us later, “I didn’t know what to do except cry.”
“Maddy, you’re a really good kid, if you want my opinion. You messed up and paid the price.”
“Yeah, but they told my parents I was looking at three years because one of the others hurt one of the employees in that store! I didn’t do it, but I’m an accessory.”
“Maddy,” Mary-Ann was confident in her words, “Your parents love you still; don’t be scared. I know it’s a scary place, but God put you in the best possible pod of all with Michela and Ashley in here with you. Now, join us for a fun game of Upwords, if you’d like, unless you like hockey like Michela does.”
“Thanks,” Maddy smiled, “I don’t want to be hosting pity parties for one.”

Maddy Big Tits might have been released 2.5 months after Maddy arrived, but she made the best of their time together.

——————————————————————————————

“GMMMMMM!” I grabbed Casey with ease despite her being taller than me.
“All right!” I laughed a bit, “Go to work on her. Michela will check your knots.”
“Sweet. Thank you so much, girls!”
“Casey, don’t be afraid,” I whispered in her ear, “This girl is sweeter than you even if profane.”
“I feel it,” was the last thing Casey said before she ate Mary-Ann’s socks and giggled a bit.
“Is she this kinky in all regards?” Alexandra asked with a playful curiosity.
“No, no, that’s the dirtiest thing she allows. She won’t even be seen without clothes on.”

Casey Clark truly was an angel in so many regards. If angels could be sent to take human form, then this girl was it. What none of us knew then was that Casey was abandoned as a baby. Her “parents” were the people who adopted her, and she loves them as flesh and blood. Casey’s story isn’t mine to tell but is a tearjerker; I’ll summarize for you. Her parents couldn’t have children, and they adopted her after reading about her abandonment in the morning paper. When Casey’s mother was 48, to the shock of all, her parents finally had a baby of their own!

Xandra took it easy on Casey, only tying her wrists, above and below her breasts, and her ankles and thighs with clothesline. Only a blue bandana held the socks in Casey’s mouth. Michela did check, but she only fixed the chest ropes. Clearly, someone had been playing at home, even if I couldn’t get her to admit it. That was too good of a rope job; she was practicing tying her own legs together and correctly figured arms were tied the same way.

“I bet you sleep with your legs tied together and wear jeans the next day,” I tried again.
“Where did you hear such absolutely confounded nonsense?!” she blushed and clutched Casey.
“Ha! I took a lucky guess at what kind of kinkster you were is all. Michela and I sleep with one of us tied up and being cuddled by the other sometimes, but I’m not too fond of it as I stiffen up when that’s done to me.”
“Aww, Xandra, that sounds cute. You’re really into TUGs. Maybe we should have a sleepover!” Jenny sprang over to us when she heard this, “I love sleeping while tied up.”
“Jenny is sweet as sugar. You’re a perfect pair,” I laugh and put a hand on their shoulders.
“Yeah, I typically do it on Saturdays and then wear a long skirt and sleeves to church!”
“I’m too much of a f-cking degenerate b-tch for you,” Alexandra was direct about her morals.
“We can be friends without you going to church, but not with that tongue,” Jenny hand gagged her newfound acquaintance, but she was quickly and easily pulled away by Michela.
“Sounds good!” Xandra was almost as energetic as Jenny but without the fitness component.

Pod F and Jenny Danielle Kristensen, the two greatest bridges of friendship, struck again.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude 58: Hannah Jones
Wednesday, January 1, 2014

“Where am I?” the girl groaned when she opened her eyes and realized she was in a prison cell.

Then she dozed off again. She had been at a friend's house for New Year's Eve, and the friend's older brother had spiked the punch. She had gotten drunk and, on the way home, crashed into a house and injured one of the residents. Now, she was in a holding cell at the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center. At 6:00 AM on the dot, the lights flashed on again. She recalled the tears as she ran out of the party despite her inebriation.

“Owwww!” she winced from the pain of a hangover, and now she studied her new uniform.
“S’up, babe?” her new roommate asked her, but it didn't matter.

Despite the pain, she found herself eating breakfast by force, exercising by worse, getting taken aside again so better photos of her might be taken and so that her parents could be notified of her whereabouts, and being forced back into that same Pod. The phone call to her parents turned her life upside down.

“They told me to never call them ever again,” she cried during recreation, “Said I clearly wasn't saved and that I was going to hell.”
“That's horrible!” Ashley was aghast, “Who are they to judge? Salvation isn’t an instant thing.”
“You don’t understand. My family, even me, we’re fundamentalist Protestants!”
“Huh?” Ashley had never encountered such people in her life, not in France, Minnesota, or here.

Hannah and Hannah had a lot in common, it seemed, when it came to home life. Hannah-1 had no contact with her parents, and neither did Hannah-2. Hannah-2’s, on the other hand, rejected her on religious, Calvinist lines, being either too ashamed or too haughty to associate themselves with her any longer. In a moment of peer pressure, the girl who quietly would kneel beside her bed at night with the same cute piety as my friend Jenny had become an unacceptable monster in her parent’s eyes. Her life would never be the same.

“I have such a headache,” our new podmate sat down at Michela’s invitation.
“Hey, now, it’ll be all right. Your parents might forsake you, but we won’t. I promise.”
“I don’t get it!” she groaned, “This is prison! How can you be positive?! I blew it!”
“Because I’m also a good girl who made a mistake,” Michela was honest and kind.
“You’re what?” the dark-haired, blue-eyed, Portuguese girl looked at her shock.
“Me and Ashley are practicing Catholics; Taylor there just backslid.”

Yes, yes, Hannah-1 and Hannah-2 were confirmed together, on the same day, since I just know you were thinking that. Kendra was my sponsor, and Michela was Hannah-2’s sponsor. Hannah and Hannah was a friendship almost seemingly ordained by the divine, and during the next three weeks we grew closer until even the guards called us “The Hannah and Hannah Show.” Hannah, after my release, became to Kylie what I had been to Mary-Ann.

——————————————————————————————

“All right. Are we ready to sing for our birthday girls?” Luisa asked as she lit the candles.
“Not yet at all!” Michela grabbed me and pinned me against the walls, “Ashley and Joy?”
“What is this? Michela!” I protested, but I couldn’t fight her like this.
“Ashley first, Joy second,” she gave me a hard rap on the butt.
“Oh, sure!” Joy followed exactly.
“With pleasure!” the younger girl eagerly agreed to this.

“Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “dear” SMACK! “Ash-” SMACK! “-ley!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK!

“AGAIN!” Michela ordered and motioned for it all to repeat with Joy as the star.

“Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “dear” SMACK! “Joy!” SMACK! “Hap-” SMACK! “-py” SMACK! “Birth-” SMACK! “-day” SMACK! “to” SMACK! “you!” SMACK!

OK, it was my rear getting pummeled, but it was getting pummeled for a good reason. Joy had a really good technique for someone who was shy about domination. I didn’t want to ask her as I knew she was really sensitive and, at the present, still disturbed about her kinks and sexuality. I just see it as part of who I am, but she saw it as this monster living inside of her.

There’s no way to describe what an upbringing like Joy’s does to a girl like her. It teaches her to handle so many situations, but it doesn’t help in the slightest when you have the natural desire to do something you believe to be a sin. In Joy’s case, she couldn’t process her sexuality as nicely as Ashley and Michela could, and she couldn’t handle her natural ability to dominate.

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Interlude 59: Destiny Reilly
Wednesday, November 6, 2013

“And then I kicked the big mother in the balls. Not too hard, but enough to jump his voice 1 or 2 octaves,” the brash young New Yorker, who had no accent whatsoever, spoke almost with pride.
“No discussing crimes,” Mr. Lee crossly reminded us as this was one rule he took to the letter.
“A gangster took out a gangster,” I muttered, “What’s the big deal?”
“Maybe because we were in Wal-Mart?” she shook her head, “I dunno.”
“That’s enough,” I laughed a little, “You need to control that temper though.”
“I know,” she rolled her eyes, “My grandma’s one of those superstitious old ladies that thinks she will pray me into being a little saint. I ain’t that kind of girl. I’ve had my ears pulled by nuns.”
“You’re going to go places, Destiny.”
“Yeaaahhh. I get 6 months here then 18 more up in the Shak. Real nice. You’re rude, y’know? Ain’t ya gonna introduce me to yer friends, or, I think, podmates, classmates, or students?”

That was Destiny Reilly in a nutshell. Her father’s family was Irish; her mother’s family was as Sicilian as Michela’s. She had sass, spunk, and spirit, and she was the life of a party without any nonsense with it. In fact, she was the perfect person for games because she knew when to speak and when to keep silent as well. There were a lot of good things about her, but she clearly had a lot of flaws as well. When she gets released in November 2015, I want to be at her homecoming party if there is one, and if there isn’t then I at least want to see who emerges. I’ll visit her in the next chapter, and you’ll get to decide for yourself what has changed, if anything..

——————————————————————————————

“Girls, I do not want to distract from the birthday girls, but I have my own news,” Kylie smiled.
“Well, out with it,” Kendra encouraged her, “We’re listening.”
“Today,” Kylie blushed, “is the first anniversary of my release after 39 months inside.”
“All right!” Nichole was the first one to jump at that, “Let’s cheer and applaud this survivor!”
“Survivor… yeah…,” Kendra said after, “That’s it! I’m gonna get that! Yeah!”
“Get what, cousin?” Jenny was too sugary sweet and curious for her own good.
“Picture it,” the smaller Kristensen laughed, “‘Survivor F04’ on this wrist, and ‘JF11120286’ on the other one! Tattoos!”
“Funny, I was picturing something similar across my shoulders,” Kylie cackled at that.
“You wouldn’t do that, really? Would you?” Mary-Ann nervously asked her best friend.
“Just because you wouldn’t get one doesn’t mean we can’t. It’ll be meaningful to us and all who love us. A reminder of how much we fought and scraped to survive and be here today.”
“I approve,” I nodded my head, “I wouldn’t do it myself, but I’ll support you two.”
“Let’s make an appointment,” Kendra jumped, “We’ll get them when you get your piercings!”
“I am blocking my ears,” Jenny shook her head and giggled.

Yeah, we read Google reviews before accidentally picking a dive. There was a place in the Mall of America that Alexandra knew from her classmates. Ashley’s request for that meaningful, and, to some, strange, piercing was going to be happening. We didn’t explain what was happening, so to our friends it could have been that she wanted a second ear piercing or something.

Ashley had been having a special birthday. She had made her modeling debut; she’d spent the morning with her podmates; she’d made new friends. Now, after the commotion of Kylie’s little interjection, we were about to eat the birthday cake. Afterwards, she would receive presents, the first presents she’d received since she was 11. It was such a lonely existence for her, but it was becoming meaningful in different ways despite the sadness she’d have to bear for the rest of her life.

“Hannah, Mary-Ann, and Luisa, in particular, thank you for all you’ve done to make this day one I will remember,” Ashley expressed her gratitude while eating a piece of the delicious cake.
“We did our best,” Luisa looked at us all, “And we succeeded. Ash, thanks for being my friend.”
“No, I should be thanking you. We should all thank your mother for her love,” she said, “No one has been to us what your mother has, welcoming us all into your home despite our crimes.”
“Happy birthday, Ash,” Luisa rubbed her shoulder a little, “I’ll go annoy Michela.”

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Interlude 60: My New Friends
Thursday, January 2, 2014

Madison, Hannah, Destiny, and Taylor were four fantastic girls in their own right. Pod F became a place of healing thanks to, first, Mary-Ann, then Michela, and now Ashley, Michela, Kylie, and me. I never imagined prison to be a place where such meaningful friendships could begin.

Hannah was the practical girl. Madison was the optimist. Destiny was the realist. Mackenzie was the student. And Taylor was the girl with the ideas for how to make things fresh and new. They had formed their own core group to keep each other above water during what is the most difficult stretch of life for any girl who goes through there… except maybe the ones who end up in a darker situation.

“Hannah, do you think you'll remember us?” Michela asked me one night, “Like Mary-Ann?”

Then they all clamored since I was next in line to be released. Kylie, Michela, Ashley, Taylor, Madison, Hannah, Mackenzie (about whom I will talk later), and Destiny all were remembered by me… except during that dark stretch from April to June of 2014… During which time I was lost to all while I fought to save my life before it was too late.

——————————————————————————————

For once, I was a good girl. Michela bought Ashley her first set of clothesline; Kendra bought a six pack of duct tape; Kylie got her bandanas and socks; I bought her a cell phone case. What is still truly special in my mind was what Mary-Ann did. Yes, it was Mary-Ann turning this party into a tearjerker.

The first gift was from the church. The Easter before the incident, someone happened to take a picture of the communion line. Ashley’s father was the minister of communion, and behind her, was her mother, who had her hand on Ashley’s shoulder. The second immediately drove Ashley to tears while anyone in the room who wasn’t Roman Catholic stood or sat in confusion. It was a statue, but we were clueless.

“Don’t you see,” Michela held it up for us to see, “It’s the Martin family. The daughter became a saint, and the parents are saints too. The mother, the father, and the daughter. Mary-Ann, you’re so the perfect person to be the one who is Ashley’s housemate.”
“Mary,” even Kendra was choking up, “You love people so differently from the rest of us.”
“I’m… Oh, Mary-Ann,” Ashley grabbed her in a tight hug, “I love you so much!”
“There’s more,” Mary-Ann grabbed the next present, “I hate to say this, but your parents bought this for you before… that day. Sweetie, I know you already know, but they really loved you.”
“Oh, my goodness… Mary!” Ashley took it and tenderly unwrapped it, “It’s beautiful!”
“Let me see too!” Jenny squeezed through the crowd.

It was a book with a hard black cover and golden lettering. Written on the inside was a note in a handwriting that Ashley gently rubbed with her finger while choking up. I couldn’t read French at all, but Ashley knew what it said before she quietly explained that the note was written by her father and that the salutation was by her mother. “To our daughter Ashley on her 12th birthday. May these prayers be a source of comfort and wisdom to you as you grow, and may they bring you strength in tribulations. With our deepest love, your mother and father,” she translated it for all of us to understand. She was just 19 days shy of 12 on that dreadful day.

She took the photograph in her hands and stared at it for a few more moments before she fully lost herself in the emotions of the moment. She hugged the frame photograph tightly against her chest with tears pouring down her cheeks before looking to M.A. for comfort. There was no one she needed more at this moment, and Ashley reached out for a one-armed hug.

“Mary!” the emotions finally overwhelmed Ashley, “Why did they have to die?! WHY????!!!”

——————————————————————————————

Ashley’s birthday party ended in tears of sorrow, but at the Palmeri residence the day ended in tears of joy. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was explained to me. Michela and I sat on the upper portion of stairs connecting the first and second floors of the house, in a spot where anyone coming up the stairs couldn’t see us.

“What are we doing?” I asked her when I took my seat at her behest.
“Shhhhh,” she hand gagged me, “Go over there,” she pointed to the middle landing, “Act busy.”
“All right,” I went over there and began texting Jenny and soon saw the fuchsia of Luisa coming.
“Oh, hi, Hannah!” the bright kerchief and shorts had been a spark all day long, “Excuse me.”
“No problem,” I stepped aside so she could round the corner, but suddenly…
“BOOM! GOT YOU!” Michela grabbed Luisa in a tight hug and kissed her, I love you, Lou!”
“Haha! Michela, I love you, too,” Luisa returned the kiss and stepped away in confusion.
“That’s a neat trick there, Michela! It’s almost like you’ve done it before.”
“MOM!” Luisa burst into tears and smiled, “MOOMMMM! MOM! Come quickly!”
“Now, Luisa, what has you excited?” Mom came over, “The Wild traded for Evgeni Malkin?”
“No!” Luisa didn’t know whether to be happy or sad, “Michela just jump-hugged me.”

Mom looked at Michela, who stood there with a cheesy grin on her face. She looked at her older daughter, then Luisa, and then me. There seemed to be a moment of awkwardness, as if Michela had been replaced by some hideous monster. Luisa kept crying and hugged me tightly, thanking me profusely as if I’d had something to do with what just happened. A big smile grew on Mom’s face as she realized that Luisa was telling, and she cried a little too.

“I still got the mojo! I just had to find it! Yeah!” Michela shuffled her feet in a little dance.
“It’s really you! Oh, Michela, I love you so much,” Mom hugged her daughter.
“You don’t understand, Hannah,” Michela tightly embraced her mother and started crying in her own right, “I haven’t done that since Daddy started hurting me.”

So we stood there crying tears of joy and rejoicing in a big step in Michela’s growth.

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A new girl is coming to TAC in Chapter 15! How will I tease the new girl?

(A) A hogtie
(B) A blindfold
(C) A spanking

[johopp]

Combination of B and C

[harveygasson]

Great stuff! B and C I think

[hafnermg]

B!

[AlexUSA3]

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

A blindfold, and since so many seem to want it, a hogtie, for the debutante!

Chapter 014: Fulfilling My Vow
Monday, June 15, 2015

There was a spring in my step on this Monday morning after a night of cheap passion with sweet Michela, my girlfriend. Saturday’s party had ended in sadness, but the day ended in triumph that I still didn't fully understand. All I know is that I asked the Palmeri's if they would let me attend mass with them going forward. It was not yet finalized, but I was 40% of the way from agnostic to theistic shortly after I made the transition from hedonistic atheism to agnosticism.

My journey was a slow one, but it had been well worth each step I had taken. Beside me at the table at breakfast was the familiar big girl with a skirt, a blouse, and a bandana headband. Each and every day, she went to morning mass if one was being said. After spending so much of the weekend in prayer, Michela knew she wanted to work as a juvenile lawyer in the prison system to help protect kids against judges like Helene LeBlanc. She was calling to see if she could get into the school despite her criminal record.

Just yesterday, I walked in on Michela saying a rosary. She was on her knees, crying while she looked at a statue, asking God why she was in love with me when she believed so strongly, with 100% of her heart, that having sex with me was a sin. She was confused but beautiful, inside and out. Just being her friend alone was a privilege, but I still didn't understand how it could be a sin when even she believed with all her heart that she was truly in love with me.

Meet me and Kenny at DnD. Bring no one, Kylie texted me.
K. See you in a few, I responded.
“What's up?” Michela asked me with a more typical flat face.
“Kylie wants a coffee date before I pick up Ashley. See you this afternoon,” I kissed her.
“See you later,” my girlfriend seemed to blush, and I saw a wry smile on Luisa’s face.
“Have fun! See you this afternoon!” Luisa waved to me as I headed out the door.

When I arrived at the DnD, I only had to look for a girl wearing a fuchsia headband to find the right people. Today, unusually, Kendra and Kylie were sitting outside. It was a bit too hot today for this, but I wasn't about to say anything in case there was a particular reason for this.

“Right now, Mary-Ann and Ashley are talking about what I’m about to tell you,” Kylie sighed.
“About what? What's going on?” I looked at both of them.
“Yeah, out with it, Kylie. I’ve been waiting 30 minutes for youto spill it,” Kendra snapped.
“Ashley is a complicated girl like Michela. She's bisexual, yet she's a devout Catholic,” Kylie started, “It all made sense, and I put it together the other day. Think about it. Mrs. Copley and Miss Morris. Ms. Shoemaker. Marcy Moreau. See a pattern?”
“Yeah, they're all women we all know,” I started, “That we all liked but Ashley… Oh, sh-t.”
“Kylie, Hannah, what is going on here?!” Kendra's concern grew, “What about Ashley?”
“Ashley's abuser wasn't her uncle. Her abuser was her… aunt. She was taken… by a woman,” Kylie started to cry, “Remember Doreen Simpson?”
“Don't forget, Hannah,” Kendra choked up, “Kylie, Mary, and I were virgins before that gang of a-sholes came along and took advantage of us.”

I tried not to cry. Doreen Simpson was Mr. Reardon’s female colleague, the woman who would often participate in abusing me, M.A., Kendra, and Kylie. Difference was that Kendra and M.A figured out ways to make those freaks lose interest in them.

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Interlude #61: Taylor's Depression
Sunday, January 5, 2014

Taylor Zawislak took Kylie’s place as the mope of the pod.

“Some days,” the brunette confided to me, “I wish I were dead. I can’t perform in class or at the gym or anywhere. My grades are hurting. I just want to be home.”
“Taylor, don't think that way,” I implored her, ‘“That hurts you. You can't control your feelings, but you still, for now anyway, can control how you respond.”
“You’d make a good psychiatrist,” she remarked, “But it doesn’t change that I’m sad.
“What do you do when you feel this way?” I asked her in genuine kindness.
“I don’t know. I’m a mess. I just want to snuggle up with Dad like a scared little girl.”
“Then perhaps you should call your dad!” I suggested to her, “Are you daddy’s little girl?”
“Well, I really am… I’m 10 years younger than my next sibling,” she sheepishly admitted.

With a forced smile, she went over to the phone booth, sat down, and called her father. After 15 minutes, she returned with a more genuine smile upon her face and took a deep breath. Yes, she could survive this. Unlike the two Hannah’s, her parents accepted her apology and did anything they could to help her to survive what they knew would be a trying time.

——————————————————————————————

Ashley Calland was a funny girl who absolutely adored her bandanas more than Michela. She'd wear them like an addict like Jenny, so much so she figured out little things like that because the 14th, this past Sunday, was Flag Day, she could wear an American flag bandana while working at Best Buy. Friday, it was a solid black, and today it was solid Best Buy blue! Headbands are all she wears, to be fair. Ashley was far more intelligent than she believed she was.

“Hi, Hannah,” she sat down in my car’s passenger seat and sighed, “How was coffee?”
“Coffee was good, but,” I gulped a little, “Ash, honey, I’m sorry if I’ve ever offended you.”
“You are forgiven. How has society made it that you're less human if your abuser is a woman?”
“I don't know,” I drove the car away from the house, “Male or female, it happened, and the worst thing is that your parents are gone. They sound like they really were…saints.”
“They were like saints, in some ways. You do not know what that statue means to me. Marie is a wonderful person,” Ashley wept a little, “She means more to me than she can appreciate. It all started back in Orléans and grew little by little until she moved here for a job opportunity. Then, she tricked my parents into coming here…All so she could hurt me.”
“Say as much as you wish to say,” I let her set her boundaries and waited several minutes.
“She murdered Mama and Papa. I hate myself, Hannah. After you left on Saturday, I tied up our friend Kylie and rubbed her for an hour,” I could feel the tension in her voice, “I’m a psychopath like Tante Charlotte now! I have a disgusting attraction to females because of her.”
“It's perfectly understandable to me because you were in a developmental…”
“Don't psychoanalyze me!” my friend snapped and groaned, “Sorry… I’m too tense.”
“I’ll do anything you need,” I parked the car, “Listen, hug, cry, hold your hand.”
“Your love is sufficient,” her eyes were watery, “Someday, when you are a Catholic, we will be a great source of joy to each other. Right now, you cannot appreciate why I see myself as filthy.”

With that, Ashley effectively ignored me the rest of the day except for what was essential as part of our duties. I realized it wasn't personal and that she needed time to think. What an awful life to have to contemplate. That was over six years before our conversation.

I was bothered though that she considered herself a psychopath and felt the spiritual tension that so many interpret in various ways. She wasn’t disgusting; she was herself. I was determined to do anything I could to help her harness that attraction in a positive way. If she hated herself for it, did that mean that she felt that Michela and I were disgusting too? I thought she loved us…

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #62: Madison's Big Heart
Sunday, January 5, 2014

“Since you all seem to struggle to survive, I’ll tell you all what I like about you,” Maddy Hill had such a genuine spirit of kindness,
“Hannah Jones, you have such a genuine faith and, in spite of a religious side I don’t understand, a true sense of what remorse means.
“Hannah Larsson, you’re a true leader who sees a goal and leads her team to pursue while being willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of the team.
“Michela, you best understand what it means to love someone.
“Ashley, you’re so courageous in the face of so much adversity that we all cry for you because we all can feel your suffering, and you lift us all up with your faith and hope.
“Destiny, you know when to use humor to lighten things up and when to be serious. Out of all the people I’ve met here, no one recognizes her own faults better than you do, and you truly want to improve yourself as a person.
“Mackenzie, you’re more mature than some of the adult girls here, and you know when to keep quiet and when to talk. You’re so positive that it’s hard to believe you committed a crime.
“Kylie, you’re so sweet and humble and willing to listen to anyone who needs to pour out their heart. You listen, care, and only say something practical and uplifting.”

We couldn’t do anything but thank Maddy for her words. It would take a long time before some of us, myself included, believed the truth of her words and applied them to our lives.

——————————————————————————————

“That hurts!” I groan a little while I sit in a chair next to Ashley.
“Oh, like this doesn't tickle?” Kylie winced from her position.

It had happened and was happening. Ashley and I had our bizarre navel piercings. Kendra had a tattoo on each wrist. Kylie was going crazy and having her shoulders emblazoned with the thing that strangely defined her now as a person. Kylie wasn't just a survivor; it was her being. Prison had ruined her the worst of all, and this was her mark of triumph.

“Survivor F07” in the 1st row on Kylie's back; “Survivor F04” on Kendra's left wrist.
“JF03110072” in the 2nd row on Kylie’s back; “JF11120286” on Kendra's right wrist.

It was their identity. We all exited prison as very different people from when we entered it. But the trauma that Mary-Ann, Kendra, and I had suffered was barely speakable horror for Kylie, an innocent victim in so many ways. Her only true desire, to be a mother, was over forever. A visit to the doctor had confirmed her fears, and all she was left with was her own body.

The familiar Courier New font was a symbol of that pain. It was permanently burned into their bodies now. On the other hand, the stabs in the gut were something that Ashley and I could end almost at will. When we were done with our pain, we went and collected something more in the style our friends Michela and Mary-Ann would appreciate, or so we hoped they would at least.

“I know Mary will love this,” Kendra said with a smile, “I hope Michela does too.”

Mary loved it and then some. All four of us put our minds together to pick it out, so we had a lot of confidence in our choice.

More importantly: I had kept my promise to Ashley. We had done it. It was silly and immature in some regards, but we had made a pact and fulfilled it. There was a distinct charm in sharing a thing like this with her, and over time we planned to make sure that the jewels that went with it were even more meaningful. Money, however, came slowly.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #63: Destiny's Sweet Side
Sunday, January 5, 2014

“So, Miss Jones, I had some points and went to get a snack, but they were cleaned out of all but some Pop Tarts. I got strawberry ones since they’re your favorite, and I hate those flat sawdust sugar sandwiches. Enjoy, sweetie,” Destiny put the package beside Hannah-2.
“Aw, thank you so much!” she started the game of ‘Upwords’ for us and accepted Destiny’s gift.
“I had to do it for ya, babe,” the big busted girl blushed, “I know life’s upside down for you.”
“Aw, Miss Reilly has a crush on you, I think,” I teased them both with an exaggerated tone.
“No way am I into girls,” the New Yorker retorted, “And no way will I allow that word.”
“Oh, all right,” I withdrew my profanity with a giggle and replaced it with a cleaner anagram.

Destiny and Hannah were fantastic playmates for word games of this nature, and we always had a good time together during the short time we had before I was released. The friendship was real and uplifted us all. Sometimes we’d have little word game tournaments by sharing the games in order to pass the time together as a group of more than four. Mackenzie and Hannah-2 are what we call “bookworms.”

——————————————————————————————

“Michela, I’m back,” I entered the house about 1:30 and got no response.
“Michela!” I called again, “Are you here?”

Then I walked around a corner and saw her in that dreadful pose, staring at the wall. There she was, such a pretty young lady, standing there in one of her church skirts that came all the way to her ankles, a black one, a pink button-up long-sleeve shirt, and a white bandana headband. She had nothing on her feet, but she was staring. Her arms were clasped behind her back; she stood up straight and tall.

“What’s up?” I asked her in a concerned voice.
“I got a call from Kendra while you were at work,” she continued looking straight ahead.
“Yeah, that…,” I started crying, “You two did nothing to deserve it.”
“Hannah,” she was more aggrieved than ever, “Why did he do it? Why? I can still remember all I felt and thought while he was doing it as if it happened just last night.”
“What do you need right now?”
“The other day,” she ignored me, “It felt powerful to let Steve grope me. He did it because I told him to do it, and he did it only with my consent.”
“I understand what you mean, but…”
“Hannah it will be a long time before I will feel safe being alone with any men, even relations, but I at least can do that much thanks to you and our friends.”
“How long have you been like this?” I asked her and stood in front of her so she couldn’t stare.
“About 3 hours. Poor Ash,” she embraced me and kissed me, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Together we went upstairs and did something different from our usual bondage fornication. No, instead we did something more meaningful by taking a nap on the futon. Michela pulled a big quilt over us and wrapped her arms around me under that quilt. We fell asleep while processing the reality of what had happened to the lovable French girl.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #64: Hannah's Loneliness
Sunday, January 5, 2014

As I said before, Hannah Jones came from a stiff fundamentalist Protestant background. She had it the worst of all: she wasn’t even from Minnesota, and her family, even those not in Minnesota, wouldn’t even take her calls. She had gone from a smiling, prim and proper, and admirable girl to the shame of her family. Anathema was the word she used, foreign to me as it was.

“Look at me,” she twanged sadly that evening, “I ought to be singing in the choir right now.”
“Well, why don't you come over here and quietly sing. I’ll listen to you,” I said.
“Hannah, for an atheist, you're more humanitarian than most Christians,” she whimpered.
“Look, don't get preachy with me,” I reminded her, “Where are you from originally?”
“South Carolina, the Charleston area,” she smiled a little and exaggerated her slight twang.
“I’ve been there once,” I said, “My mom loves Civil War history on both sides!”
“Really? All right. I owe you a song or two for just that much then!” her eyes brightened.

Never before have I heard someone with such a beautiful voice. What meant the most to me was that she believed what she sang with all her heart, and it showed. When she sang the hymns, all could feel it. Her eyes brightened; the joy was audible; the happiness showed in her movement. Just as real were the tears she cried when she realized how much she'd messed up her life.

I took Hannah aside, and she cried and cried some more. I didn't understand the concept of grief arising due to spiritual distress. I tried to talk to her, and she tried her best to listen. She nodded in agreement and shook in disagreement before she finally calmed down and spoke in a soft and almost inaudible voice.

“They slipped me something that night,” she said to me and shuddered before she walked away.
“Wait!” I tried to call after her.
“I’m not ready to talk about it, but when I am… it'll be with you.”

——————————————————————————————

“Hey,” I felt a hand shaking me awake, “What’s wrong?” I heard Luisa’s voice.
“Just cuddling. We were…”
“Crying over Ashley, right?” Luisa seemed to know something already.
“What made you say that?” I roll over since Michela is tightly clutching me in a playful manner.
“Because, Hannah, she told me shortly after I met her; she’s told me everything.”
“Pardon us a moment,” I pulled the blanket over my head, kissed Michela on the lips, and fled.
“I heard that!” Luisa said before dashing in behind me.
“I just remembered something. Michela, come downstairs.”

In all the sorrow of finding Michela staring at the wall, I’d forgotten the gift! I grabbed the bag and handed it to my girlfriend, who smiled a little and accepted it. Opening it up, she pulled out a pewter chain with military style dog tags on it. One said “F10”. The other had “JF02110041” on the front and “Feb. 17, 2011” on the back. Courier New font was a necessity.

With wetness in her eyes, Michela put the necklace around her neck without a word. Smiling, she put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead much like she'd kiss Luisa, and then she embraced me tightly for a more personal and erotic kiss right on the lips. She held me so tightly that she nearly picked me up off the floor,

“Oh, Hannah, I love you so much in so many ways you don't yet appreciate!” she beamed.
“I love you so much, Michela,” I responded with genuine happiness in my voice.
“How went the punching?” she poked me in the belly.
“Wanna see it?” I lifted up my shirt to reveal a bit of a mess.
“Eww, put that back,” Michela quickly forced my shirt back down.
“No swimming for you for a week!” Luisa sternly warned, “Hannah, you're weird but lovable.”
“Hey, Ashley got one just like it!”

Luisa shook her head, and as soon as her back was turned she was jumped by Michela. The big sister tackled the little sister to the floor and wrapped her up in a hug. Because it was just us, she handgagged Luisa and rained sisterly kisses on the joy of her life. The younger and smaller girl was no match for Michela, but I pulled Michela off her without much effort.

“It's so good to have you home again!” Luisa laughed and hugged Michela in kind.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #65: Mackenzie Schaefer
Sunday, January 5, 2014

Mackenzie Schaefer was a girl with a larger than proportional chest, ashen blonde hair, and a disposition that was foreign to all of us. She was mature beyond her years and shy. Just a 14 year old when she was locked up, she acted more like a college freshman than a high school freshman, and she never asserted herself. In fact, she was a bit of a doormat who calmly let the others make decisions so long as they didn’t negatively affect her. She had no self-confidence.

“Hannah, will I ever be good again, or will I be a junkie forever?”
“You got arrested early,” I responded, “You learned early and the hard way.”
“I’ll just get out and go back to it, won’t I?” she questioned herself.
“Not if you choose better friends than the ones that got you in trouble,” I smiled.

I wish I’d taken my own advice instead of going back to Greg.

——————————————————————————————

“Hard to remember that Monday is visiting day here at the Shak,” I nervously chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah,” Destiny said through the phone, “Hannah, you keep me sane. Life here sucks so bad compared to juvie. Fortunately, I’ve had no one try to rub me like you and Michela would.”
“You sound defeated but encouraged.”
“Well, yeah, it’s ending soon,” she stared into space, “I blew it Hannah. It wasn’t until I was getting shifted, right about when Michela was getting ready to go home, that I realized that I had done something that was really bad. I don’t mean a crime; I mean it was bad.”
“Sounds to me like there’s hope for you then,” I encouraged her, “I didn’t learn that so quickly.”
“You say that, but I only know how to gangbang,” she grimaced, “I’m tits and a fist.”
“When you get out, I’ll be there to help you. Just make sure we stay in contact.”

Destiny looked away and sighed. She wasn't kidding about being tits and a fist. She was a girl who could be anything she wanted, whether that was an auto mechanic or a doctor. She had the world in her hands, and she threw it away in the wrong crowd. Worse, she saw nothing wrong in their actions at the time and saw only the money that could be earned as long as did her part.

“Hannah, I got locked in solitary twice after I got here. I got into fights too easily, and next thing I knew gloves dropped and I was in solitary. I can’t control my anger. I’ll backslide for sure.”
“What are your phone privileges like?”
“15 minutes max on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Period,” she shook her head.
“Call me on Wednesday. Don’t shy from me, please,” I told her, “Destiny, I believe in you.”
“I dunno, Hannah. I think Michela’s family’s having a good influence on you,” she then sighed.
“They actually are. We’re out of time, but, Destiny, you have a lot of friends who are waiting to throw a party for you when you get out.”
“See ya next week?” she asked hopefully and looked right at me for once.
“I promise.”

——————————————————————————————

Which will happen in Chapter 16?

(A) A former podmate meets Hannah and asks for work as a bondage model
(B) Taylor, soon to be released, asks for help because she's afraid of backsliding
(C) Hannah-2, soon to be released, asks for help because her family won’t let her come home.
(D) All of the above

[johopp]

C

[AlexUSA3]

The number of responses to these polls is disturbingly small. Perhaps adding a regular poll at the top of the first page will help things?

[hafnermg]

A!

[Bilmik]

C

[johopp]

C please

[AlexUSA3]

Chapter 15: Nichole Blakely - Part 2
Tuesday, June 9, 2015

I have to rewind a bit to explain what happened on the 9th. As I mentioned before, my friend Nichole moved out of her childhood home and moved into the Fredericks family home to get away from physical, psychological, verbal, and sexual abuse. During the time between Chapter 3 and Chapter 14, things went downhill.

Nichole started cutting herself. Like, she’d make herself bleed on purpose using blades as some bizarre form of self-punishment and/or stress relief. It made no sense to her or anyone else, but I was the one that outed her while playing video games with Michela and the Fredericks sisters. It was obvious to me because I saw a bandage peeking out under a bandana wristband, which all of the others took to be a new step in her fashion. I’d known cutters from when I was a slinger.

Later, Nichole told me I’d saved her life.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Are you available to dominate Kris and a new girl this Saturday morning? Steve texted me.
Sure thing! , I responded without hesitation.

I had no idea.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

All right if I join you and Kenny for a coffee? Nichole texted me.
Sure thing! , I responded without hesitation (repetition intended).
“Hey, friend!” Nichole gave me a hug, “I heard you’re going to TAC today to tie up a newbie.”
“Well, actually, I am. Did Michela tell you or something?” I asked with a laugh and sat down.
“The depression’s been bad,” Nichole looked at her arms, “But I haven’t slashed since then.”
“That’s good to hear,” I noticed she was sad and wearing a purple kerchief bandana. Mood ring.
“Wassup buttercup? Cheer up,” Kendra gave Nichole a playful punch.
“Hannah, don’t stop me. Help me again. I’m… the TAC newbie.”

I looked at the decisive eyes and knew that she somehow felt this would help her. She’d been in an abusive home for 7 years and had had enough. She felt like a stranger in her own skin, which I could strongly feel in myself at times. When you’re misused by anyone, you feel like you don’t belong to yourself anymore and that you’re just their plaything.

“Eat your doughnuts; drink your coffee; we’ll go,” I told her and hoped I was really helping her.

We talked about everything but that. We talked about the boy she’d met at school, the man who would one day be her husband as it turned out. He thought her fashion was attractive and loved her personality in a way that couldn’t be put into words. We talked about the Fredericks sisters and what each of them meant to her. Most of all, we talked about Jenny, whom she knew would be extremely upset to find out about the TAC appointment. She also knew Jenny would find out in one way or another without Nichole saying a thing to her.

Some girls dress in reflection of their mood. Nichole often wore blue because she was often blue herself. Purple was very different, though, and told me that she was genuinely depressed and in a strange sense hopeful of someday finding true freedom from her past. Before we sat down in my old car, she gave me a hug and thanked me for doing this.

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Interlude #66: Maddy, Kenny, and Annie
Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Annie Anderson was a monster, but at other times she was just another kid. She was dangerous in some ways and fine in others. She still managed to be in the cycle because Mary-Ann would play a board game with anybody except Clarissa. Of course, some nights Mary-Ann didn't want to play because she wanted to hit the gym.

On my first New Year's in juvie, Maddy, Kenny, and Annie were indeed playing a game. Bridget was glad to be away from her sister for a spell and sat with me watching TV. It was bizarre, but it was a testimony to both Kendra’s budding affection for Maddy and Maddy’s sweet naïvety. It was obvious to all but Mary-Ann that Annie was a twisted little freak.

“You are a little spitemonger,” Kendra said at one point.
“Them’s the rules,” the malicious little twit responded, “It's fair.”
“Stop bickering,” Mary-Ann had none of it, “We have different playing styles.”
“She ought to be a municipal worker. Then she can plow all winter long,” grumbled Kenny.
“Would you like some cheese with that wine?” the antagonist continued.
“Shut up before you end up in solitary again,” Kendra wasn't having any of that.

——————————————————————————————

The plan was simple: I’d first tie up Kristine for a scene, and then we’d do Nichole’s for as long as she was comfortable being bound and gagged for the disgusting pleasure of strangers and for the laughs of a few friends as well. Kristine was the perfect person for this, in my opinion. She wore a purple sweater that had a boob slot, to be direct, a black miniskirt, pantyhose, and black heels. We were about to have a hottie-in-distress in the Moreau’s living room.

Kristine was the best kind of co-worker. She would heap you with praise and be gentle when she had anything negative to say. She’d smile when you did it the right way and say “It’s OK” when you blew it. I could see how she’d been in a real gang before, but I could also see why so many people liked her and considered her to be their friend back when she was in juvie.

“Kristine, meet my friend Nichole. She helped to keep me sane when I was inside.”
“You look familiar,” Kristine said to Nichole while studying the dark haired girl.
“So do you. Did you bang with a girl named Claire Blakely?” Nichole responded.
“Well, yeah, we got flipped together,” the former inmate put a chair down.
“Claire’s my older sister. I remember you coming by the house a few times.”
“Nichole came for empowerment,” I put a hand on Nichole’s shoulder, “Bad childhood.”
“We’ve all got a story here at TAC,” Kristine nodded, “Some are sad, and Steve tries to help.”
“That’s true,” my sad brunette friend gave me a fearful hug, “It sure helped me and my friends!”
“Now, Hannah, don’t go cheap!” Kristine sat down with a big laugh, “Revenge is a b-tch.”
“What’s he doing?” Nichole watched Steve taking photos of Kristine posing in the chair.
“Pinups. Cheesecake,” I explained, “Photos of the girl looking sexy and pretty.”

Nichole, alias Paulina Oliveira, silently watched while I tied Kristine to Steve’s specifications. I had never had this kind of audience before, one of my friends, and I felt nervous doing a job that I was quite accustomed to doing with ease. I tied Kristine’s to the legs of the chair, and I tied her thighs together. Then, I tied her wrists and elbows in front of her and tied her wrists to her thighs before stuffing the matte red ball gag into her mouth. Sexy hottie-in-distress in the living room!

There isn’t much to say about the scene with a sexy-as-can-be Kristine struggling in the chair tie and looking about the room just as Steve desired, often without Steve even telling her to move in between shots. She just knew to do it and when to do it and how to hold the position. She made a game of it, though, talking to us while she posed until finally drool dripped off the ball gag.

Nichole watched with a strange curiosity. We didn’t know it, but she would eventually shun the entire industry except for one thing: select cosplay adventures. At the moment, she knew exactly why she was here, and seeing Kristine acting with such confidence in her skills was encouraging to her. I could feel the confidence in Kristine’s acting as well. I never would have thought for a second that Nichole would become the most dependable bondage cosplayer though.

Kristine’s struggle was nice. The drool was nice. The shots of her arms were nice. Her tits were nice as well. Yep, I took the tits out, my friends. I watched Nichole squirm a little and take off her bandana, an unusual nervous tic for her in particular. She seemed afraid of this but also a bit too mentally ready. She had contemplated this for a long time.

In fact, I bet it all started that day when her father smashed that bowl off her until blood poured off her in a constant stream. It made sense now: Nichole was a virgin. Her only experience with being touched by a man was being fondled by the mean in her household. Beyond that, she only knew bondage play with women, and she figured this was a way to empower herself by having Steve touch her during a scene.

That’s why Nichole was watching Kristine in this photo shoot. She wanted to be fondled like I had fondled Kristine when I exposed her. She wanted Steve to be there and to put a tight squeeze on her tits. She wanted to be squeezed by a man while she was bound and gagged: it would all be consensual and on her terms.



——————————————————————————————

Interlude #67: Hannah Bandana
Tuesday, January 7, 2014

I was “Hannah Bandana” with the Cool Girls’ Club, and I was “Hannah Bandana” to some of my podmates as well. I had the bandana thanks to good behavior, and while not all wanted bandanas it was still an influence for those who were here for long enough to strive to earn the privilege of headgear. They changed the rule to six months during 2013, whereas I waited 7 months.

“I want to look tough and strong like you,” Taylor said to me, “I’m struggling though.”
“Tay, you've persevered. You did it as quickly as possible.”
“That's true,” the chronically depressed girl sighed, “My new medication helps a lot.”
“Don't give up. Taylor, somewhere out there,” I struggled to believe my own words, “Is a person who will have their life made so much happier because you kept on fighting. Pick a color.”
“Green has always been my favorite, and they have green.”
“Then go get green!” I encouraged her.

It was a popular choice just because it was so much more versatile than the scrunchies. How did we screw up so badly in life that headgear was a milestone privilege? Regardless, Taylor gladly accepted it and made use of it as a kerchief, headband, and sweatband. She slowly began to “get it,” that her mental health led to her drug use and crimes and that she was in control of her choice to do the wrong things even if the depression clouded her judgment. She began to understand the need to filter her thoughts, and it allowed her to blossom with time.

——————————————————————————————

“I wore that skirt once,” I said with a laugh, pointing to Nichole’s choice.
“Did you wear it with this?” she grabbed a vertically ribbed orange shirt.
“Add a pair of black heels, and we’ll make you a hottie-in-distress.”
“You don’t really think I’m a hottie like that, do you?” she blushed as if I wanted that.
“No, no, no, not that way. I call all the models that when they’re tied up. We’ll bind you in a bit of clothesline, tape your mouth shut, take some photos, pull your tits out, and take some more.”
“Well, this will be interesting. No man has seen my boobs except… him.”
“Nichole, your dad sexually assaulted you in the guise of punishment for misbehavior. Are you sure you want to do this?” I voiced my concerns in a new manner.
“Yes, I do,” she looked at me with confidence, “I’m in control of what happens here.”
“No, you’re not, but I’ll prove that in a subtle and friendly way,” I winked at her.

After a nice slice of cheesecake, I got to tie up Nichole Blakely for her debut as a bondage model with a classic wrist tie and breast harness. As promised, I taped her lips shut, and then I tied her thighs and then her lower legs in three places instead of the usual knees and ankles. I seated her on the familiar wooden chair and let Steve do his thing guiding Nichole through the shoot.

Nichole was truly beautiful, like Michela, but I of course wasn’t attracted to Nichole. She wasn’t a natural, but she was carefully obedient, which meant it took a few more photos than normal to get the same quality of a scene. She added a nice touch by holding her face in the position that went with crying out for help. Honestly, I think Steve thought she was prettier than most. This scene went like any other non-video set, but Nichole joined me in being a girl bold enough to flip off the camera! Nichole, Nichole, Nichole, such is why you’re so dear to me. There is so much good to say, but I don’t want to waste too much time.

Then came the best part: tits out, my friends. I pulled the shirt down, and Nichole chuckled that it was really happening. Something was clearly happening: she liked interacting with me but not the actual modeling. This was going to be a big part of the reason why Mary-Ann one day would found Maddy Tied Her, for girls like Nichole who were OK with the occasional exposure but weren’t comfortable with one form of media or the other. In Nichole’s case, she didn’t like posing for the camera too much. Just look at that bust though! I squeezed her a bit to remind her that I was in control and that I was her friend who wouldn’t hurt. I gave her a platonic kiss, told her how much I loved her, and, for the first time in my life, told someone I would pray for them.

When a girl likes the exposure, it’s obvious. Nichole was obviously distraught. It was a debut, so it might just be jitters. Gone was the wry smile that showed here and there, and in its place was a big, strong frown. I stood her up and took the chair away while Steve continued to take shot after shot of her. She eventually dropped to her knees upon request, as is so often the case, and gladly lost the heels.

Then again, perhaps she was just acting for the camera. She seemed to enjoy it when Steve so jokingly explained that many customers had a thing for feet, and I asked Steve if I could take a few of my own to send to Kendra, which he graciously obliged. Nichole, you’ve got hot feet; I say that because Kendra rated you a 9/10. When the foot connoisseur likes them, they’re good. A few shots with “Paulina Oliveira” on her stomach ended the first photo set.

“Well?” I asked her.
“I like it in some regards, I really do. We’ll talk after,” she smiled, “Still two more to go.”



——————————————————————————————

Interlude #68: Hannah Scrunchie
Monday, July 7, 2014

Lovable Miss Jones chose a black scrunchie for her headgear. It was a personal decision that she made out a preference for the elastics. No pressure, but I expressed my pride the next time I saw her.

“You're a lovely girl,” I praised her, “Good choice going for the coordination too.”
“Now Taylor and Madison call me ‘Hannah Scrunchie’ because of it.”
“Good nickname. Hannah and Hannah.”
“One year to go!” she smiled, now full of hope.
“Not worried about what will happen after your release?” I probed a little.
“No. God will work it out through you or my parents or someone else.”

I wished I had that kind of confidence.

——————————————————————————————

The next outfit was more Nichole’s style. White pantyhose, shiny pink heels, a striped miniskirt, and red long-sleeve shirt with a V neck. Again, the grin for the cheesecake shots was absolutely phenomenal. I tied her up the exact same way, but this time she got the red matte ball gag. Since I didn’t know about the Minnesota Tech bondage sorority yet, I was unaware that this wasn’t her first time with a ball gag in her mouth although I knew about the sorority homemade ball gags.

Nichole was now entirely into her role as a hottie-in-distress without question. She showed fear in a way she didn’t in the first set. The first set was playful; this one was stressful. It was about to be her film debut as well. This time, Steve took his time enjoying the initial shots of Nichole leaning one direction or the other while sitting on a schoolroom style chair. Then came the part I liked best.

Tits out my friends.

Nichole really had nice tits even if they were small. They were quite round and proportional to her height, and they had a tough core with a softer surface. I’m getting carried away here. Heh. I pay too much attention to such things. I took the chair away with a sinister cackle because only I knew what I was planning to do to her for the video portion of the broadcast.

While Nichole went through the usual motions of crouching, dropping to her knees, showing off her feet, sitting, and squirming on her belly, I readied for my on camera portions. I wasn’t about to ditch my bandana, so I just stayed in my own clothes: blue gym shorts, t-shirt, and bandana headband. I added the black skirt Kristine had worn before over my shorts since there wouldn’t be any upskirt shots of me anyway.

Without a doubt, my friend appreciated the whole foot thing or at least understood it. This was before I knew that her favorite gag was dirty socks and years before she discovered what was to her the crème de la crème of gags: someone else’s dirty socks soaked in the juices from her own orgasm. That was a gag I took further one time: Kylie’s socks, soaked in Michela’s juices, in my own mouth. Yummy… yummy… YUMMY!

“You having fun?” I asked after 2 minutes of the camera rolling, “Don’t steal from the till!”
“Nmmmmm!” Nichole shook her head while I calmly dominated her for a hogtie.
“Behave!” I swatted her on the butt because she was trying to resist the hogtie.
“MMMMM!” she was helpless while I knotted off the rope.
“Thanks for playing,” I taunted her, “Dumb b-tch.”
“MMMMMM!” the camera then rolled for 3 minutes of her whining and struggling.

This was the end of the fun though. For Nichole, it was all fun and games at first; then it was all work in this second set. The hogtie put more of a Cool Girls’ Club vibe into what was otherwise an ordinary TAC scene. One person’s fun is another’s misery, though. It was fun for now, but misery was coming.

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Interlude #69: Felice, Jackie, and Brooke
Sunday, December 9, 2012

Felice, Jackie, and Brooke were part of Pod F when I arrived, and of those 15 girls besides me were the other three who tried their hand at fetish modeling. None of them did more than three shoots for TAC, and only one tried Tommy Trusser. They all were eager parts of Maddy’s studio though. I will talk about each in detail in time, but at the moment here are the basic facts.

Felice Pryce was a sweet girl who was quiet and truly repentant for her actions. She kidnapped a classmate who was a threat to her status as the most popular girl in her class. It was bizarre, and she wouldn't say much more except that her mother died when she was 13 years old. Only after her release did she fully open to Mary-Ann, who became Felice’s number one juvie friend.

Jacqueline Martin came from poverty, resorting to an imitation of her family's crooked ways just to survive. She committed robberies, likely applying some nonconsensual bondage in many, and even once successfully evaded a high speed chase without her license plate being read. Finally, she knew she was doing the wrong thing, and she surrendered herself to the police and admitted to her crimes. She got 3 years.

Brooke Meeks was a saintly farm girl who loved horses and innocent hogtie games. She made a big mistake by texting while driving, plowing into a bunch of people who were in the path of the cars after she strayed off the road. Of the 350 girls who passed through juvie while I was there, I guarantee none felt as sorry for their actions as Brooke did.







——————————————————————————————

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” That saying applied here quite nicely with how I tied up Nichole for the third scene. This time I tied her legs in the usual three places. The green blouse, white knee socks, white heels, and striped blue miniskirt brought a genuine smile to her face, but being beautiful for a camera was different than being tied up and beautiful.

It all started just like an ordinary scene, but I was used to intense activity and heavy labor from a 14 month period of my life called juvenile detention. Nichole grew increasingly disgusted with the scene, and at first I thought it was the tight fabric cleave gag I’d given her. There was more than met the eye, though.

Three scenes can be tough on a newbie. Nichole had never done a single bondage scene before these, and she did three in one go. I’d heard that 2 or 3 was fairly average for a newbie, but this 3 scene shoot was 1 too many for Nichole. She did so well with it, too. The emotions seemed to be real; one could crop the photos and convince a cop that a real kidnapping had happened. That was because of something that I couldn’t see, Steve missed in his focus on the shots, and Kristine could see coming from a mile away.

For a girl who isn’t as flexible, like Nichole, the crouching and posing became too much for her to bear. I had never heard of such a thing happening during a scene, but the crouching and arm twisting can be intense for a less flexible person. I wish I had seen the signs in her expression because then it would have been obvious. Before she could drop to her knees, she surrendered.

“Hold on, Steve,” Kristine detected the emotions better than I and ungagged Nichole.
“I’m in too much pain. It hurts!” she was actually in tears, “The crouching and twisting!”
“All right, all right,” the big brunette sat Nichole on a chair and started untying her, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I’m just a weakling who can’t handle her job.”
“It’s all right,” I took Kristine’s side, “It’s hard work, especially given your circumstances.”
“No shame?” Nichole looked at everyone.
“No shame,” Kristine seemed to be remembering her old friendship with Nichole’s sister.

Nichole smiled with relief.



——————————————————————————————

Interlude #70: Blue Screen of Happiness
Friday, January 10, 2014



On the left wall, there is a white rectangle. That was the screen. It showed the schedule for the day, any announcements, a three day weather forecast along with the current conditions, what was available in the commissary for snacks, the guard schedule, and other such little things that were relevant to us. It was managed from the control room.

“What does it mean when it's blue and blank like that?” Hannah Jones asked.
“It means it dropped dead,” Destiny coldly responded, “It had a computer heart attack.”
“This is called,” I more kindly explained, “The Blue Screen of Happiness. It needs a reboot.”
“My family uses Apple,” the innocent southerner explained, “Never seen that.”
“Apples crash too. It's just not as spectacular,” I laughed a little.

Little things like that made us feel like normal kids for just a moment.

——————————————————————————————

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you,” Nichole laughed when I pulled in front of Joy’s house.
“Of course you didn’t. You were great. Seriously, how was it?” I probed her mind.
“I didn’t like the photo side at all. At all! I liked the video, though. I’d think twice before doing any more work for anyone who shoots photos like that.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to come for more if Steve wants you to?”
“I’d have to think about it. For now, my answer is ‘no.’ I wanted to try though. It really helped in the ways I wanted though,” she looked at me, “I feel like my body belongs to me again!”
“Wait a few days and see if you agree. After I escaped the cellar, I got put in the hospital on old Uncle Sam’s dime so he could take me inside for one more week of my life. I used to have some semblance of sanity. Now I’m just a bisexual-mostly-lesbian bondage addict who’s super smart when it comes to XBox varieties and iPhones.”
“Hannah, don’t sell yourself short. You’re a smart girl with noble goals. You’re going places.”
“I…,” I grinned and shook my head, “I’ll be joining you at Minn Tech in August, at least. It’s a good start. Michela brought me back my humanity, and the CGC gave me back my dignity.”

On that happy note, Nichole said goodbye and went back into the house to tell Joy and Zoe about the adventurous morning she and I had at TAC. I drove home to change my clothes, eat, and go to pick up a smiling French girl who, today, greeted me with a solid blue bandana headband and a bag in her hand. She handed the bag to me before we drove off.

Inside the bag were homemade cookies, still warm from the oven. She explained to me the joy of French butter cookies, called sablés bretons, and how they were her mothers favorite. Now, with a kitchen at her disposal, she had gone to Jenny’s house and spent the morning making a batch of these and a batch of cookies more in Jenny’s specialty, ginger snaps, just because they could. There was a natural connection between two girls whose hearts knew how to love others.

“You’re such a joy,” I said, finally appreciating the true meaning of friendship.

——————————————————————————————

Which will happen at TAC in Chapter 17 with yet another TAC debutante?

(A) “Girls Gone Wild” with Ashley, Kendra, and another model getting involved
(B) A busy morning of shooting with the new girl
(C) The new girl escapes her debut bondage tie and reveals she was a girl scout.

[johopp]

C

After escaping her own bonds, she ties all the others so they can't escape.

[hafnermg]

C!

[AlexUSA3]

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

It will be a girl scout whom Hannah ties up in Chapter 17!

Chapter 16: Michela & Luisa
Wednesday, June 17, 2015

I had to step aside to share with you a brief moment with massive impacts. On Tuesday, Michela made a phone call to St. Catherine’s College. On Wednesday, one of the administrators called to tell her something very important. Michela went outside while she was on the phone, but when she returned with a big smile on her face. She waited until dinner though, but let it suffice that she embraced me and gave me a passionate kiss on the cheek.

“Mom?” Michela giggled after supper, “Are you good for, maybe, $68000, possibly $38000?”
“$68000?” Mom looked at her daughter, “Why on earth would you need that kind of money?!”
“Because your daughter is ineligible for student loans, and she got accepted to St. Catherine’s College to study pre-law,” Michela’s eyes sparkled as she said the words, “I can get a $10000 scholarship starting next year if I’m able to get my hockey mojo back! It’s $27000 per year at a flat rate, but they said they could give me up to $10000 as an academic scholarship.”
“Even if they can’t,” Mom looked up at Michela, “We’ll do it. That’s why we salt money away in the bank, isn’t it?”
“I’m getting my life back!” Michela embraced her mother tightly.
“We missed you so much, and I’m so glad we patiently waited those 45 months.”

I might have been Michela’s girlfriend, but I was glad to play second-fiddle to Mom, Luisa, and Sofia. It was an honor to be in their company.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

“Michela…,” I groaned when I walked into the house after a quick run to the store.

There was my girlfriend standing looking scared and staring at the wall with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore a black knee skirt, a softer pink button-up short-sleeve blouse, and a pink bandana headband along with black knee socks. You can’t force someone to be happy once the things that happened to us are etched into their minds.

I once again just stood beside her. How difficult it had to be for her to process what happened to her now 4-5 years ago. She loved her father, cuddled with her father, shared her love of hockey with him, and always dreamed of marrying a man like him. She’d shared in passion with Nick, and she’d felt the same motions in a much more diabolical manner. Silently, a bright splash of blue appeared beside me, a bright blue miniskirt and kerchief bandana and a white t-shirt. With a smile, I reached out and took Luisa’s hand, and then I reached out and took Michela’s hand, too. I pulled on Michela’s arm a little, and she mindlessly followed.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #71: A Day in Juvie 1
Sunday, July 21, 2013



I put a lot of work into this file, so I’ll post it every chance I get. We’re going back to the New Schedule. I chose this day because it’s after Mary-Ann and Kendra were released and also after Taylor and Madison arrived. It’s important because stories involving them are soon to come!

It started like any other day: the lights came on accompanied by the wake-up sound at 6AM right on the dot. Michela jumped off the top bunk before I could even sit up without any shortage of energy. This was followed by the usual process of breakfast trays coming through the slot in the door. Eggs, soupy porridge, and low quality fruit salad were a fairly typical breakfast. The thing that masqueraded as French toast in Michela’s eyes was delicious in mine; likewise, she was still unimpressed with porridge and dreamt of polenta again.

We talk a little during breakfast and the 15 minutes of free time afterwards. After so much time, we had little to learn about each other considering she spent nearly as many hours of her life in my presence as she had spent in Sofia’s. We always found new things to learn, though, and we always made the most of our little conversations because throughout the day we’d mostly talk to our other podmates. Think of a cellmate as a roommate and a podmate as a housemate.

The familiar voice says Prisoners F09 & F10, please step away from the door before the door is unlocked for us to walk out, me closer to the railing and Michela closer to the door. Our hands are behind us, non-dominant hand clasping the dominant wrist. It’s the same position in which I found Michela when I found her just above.

——————————————————————————————

“I love you so much!” I said to the three Palmeri girls while we laughed and splashed in the pool.
“Hannah,” Luisa pushed her hair out the way, “You’re so much fun to have around.”
“You don’t know what it means to me to have a place where I’m wanted as much as here.”
“I can imagine. Really,” Michela’s lips were flat but her eyes were alive, “I constantly try to put myself in your shoes. Thanks for… for pulling me away from the wall.”
“Michela, it’s OK to be upset,” I cautioned her, “Don’t be afraid to say no if you’d rather stay to process things. We want to see you heal in the way that works best for you.”
“Remember going to the Y[MCA] over winter because you couldn’t swim! Look at you now!”

That change of topics was Michela’s way of saying that continued conversation would trigger her into an episode. Yes, I remembered it well. Until this past winter, I couldn’t swim, and Michela brought me to the YMCA and taught me to swim. That was a small example of her love. Now, I was like a mermaid in here, a natural in the water who could surprise any of them.

I especially enjoyed swimming underneath one of them and pulling her under the water without any warning. Luisa received this more than Michela or Sofia because, first of all, I adored her as the close-in-age little sister I always wanted and second because she couldn’t turn the tables on me as easily as Michela could or kick as strongly as Sofia. Sofia, however, laughed the most out of all of them. What a blessing these three girls were to me and to each other!

“Ack!” I got Michela a bit before I resurfaced right in front of her and kissed her.
“Gotcha!” I laughed a little bit, but that screech made Luisa burst into fits of belly laughter.
“Hahahahaha!” she had to go to the shallow end, “You sounded like a dying bird!”
“She scared me!” Michela splashed water at her little sister.
“Don't you do that, Miss Michela Arcangela Palmeri! I’ll get you!”
“Yeah, right,” my girlfriend was confident, and soon Luisa was held tight and hand gagged.
“Just like the dumb girls in the TV shows,” Sofia shook her head and grabbed a pool noodle.
“Hey!” that whack playfully displeased Michela.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #72: A Day in Juvie 2
Sunday, July 21, 2013

You know the march. Let’s skip that and go to the gym, where we started with my pod playing an invigorating game of basketball against Pod B. Sports events between any of Pods F, G, or H against any of Pods A, B, or C was a sadistic slaughter. We knew each other and had been here for months or years; those girls had been here for days or weeks and would be gone within days or weeks. Scores in games against Pods G or H might end with a score like 30-28, and Pods D or E might put up a fight or win in sports, but against Pods A, B, and C the score is more like the final score of today’s match against Pod B, which was 45-10.

The treadmill and weight machines are standard parts of the process. It’s all a standard drill here in the gym, and it’s not always fun especially with the treadmill and weights being parts of daily routine now. We all enjoyed it, but it wasn’t fun. It was a bit repetitive, really, but at least all of it was done with less pressure on the weekends and holidays. It was more about conditioning than strength. Regardless, the shower was welcome, and cleaning the cell was rewarding even if it was all trapped within a rigid routine.

Quiet time sucked though. Michela and I couldn’t talk to each other, and for this quiet time we were also locked in the cell. In fact, as you can see, I left the color of those times that we spent locked in the cell as white as opposed to having an open cell while remaining quiet in there as much as possible. The green quiet time and free time boxes meant the cell was unlocked, but we were expected to stay in the cell and keep the door shut. It just freed us to come talk to a guard if we needed to instead of using the intercom. All the times in white? We were locked in the cell.

We’ll talk about Taylor Zawislak’s diabetes as part of the next interlude.

——————————————————————————————

“Teach me how, oh wise ones,” I said to Michela and Luisa; we were in the kitchen now.
“Just be prepared for a mess,” Luisa warned me.

The sisters taught me how to make cookies. I had eaten plenty of cookies made by Grandma, but I wanted to do it for my own children and grandchildren someday. I was a mother already, but I lost my baby in an unnecessary tragedy at the hands of a bloodthirsty monster. Thankfully, I still have Grandma Ruth, now in her 70s and a joyful great-grandmother to my children.

It wasn't a mess like you see on TV, but it was a mess. The rolling of the cookies was more fun than I imagined, and the few tiny scraps of cookie dough that slipped by Michela were delicious. We sure had a good time getting flour everywhere, and I understood why aprons were useful. In a kitchen is a magical place when you're with Luisa and/or Michela. As a single woman who has no ability to bear children, Michela instead enjoys doting on her sisters and friends. To be fair, it is too traumatizing, and Michela refuses to have the proper exam done.

Making cookies was so much fun. It was a bit of work, but it was rewarding for something that was so delicious and good. Sofia ran around gathering things for us. I was an obedient student of my more experienced friends. Luisa was such a good teacher that I made the cookie dough by her instructions alone. What a patient and wonderful girl she was!


Michela did the rolling because it was (and is) her favorite part. She liked making it more than eating it, really. Three teenagers, all with kerchiefs and aprons, were making memories that they would cherish forever. I was truly blessed to have people who taught me all the things that were missing from my childhood: faith, hope, and love. Michela excelled in hope, Luisa in faith, and Sofia in love. It was so good to have little sisters I could hug and cherish.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #73: A Day in Juvie 3
Sunday, July 21, 2013

“Mrs. Anderson, my monitor says I need a change,” Taylor said despondently.
“All right, Taylor,” Mrs. Anderson was formal but friendly, “I’ll call the nurse. Hold tight.”
“Thanks,” a misty-eyed Taylor calmly took a seat in one of the big chairs near the TV.

This was part of daily life for Taylor, who was a permanent type-1 diabetic like the girl you’ve probably met outside prison many times, Joyce. Taylor saw it as her divine retribution, if you will, in spite of coming from a similar background as Michela. In fact, you could look at her as a Roman Catholic version of Kendra with regards to her relationship with religion. Her story isn’t as dramatic though and was a more straightforward process.

“Thank you!” Taylor seemed stunned that we saved a spot for her at a rare mass that I attended.
“Surprised we like you so much? Think I wasn’t like you once upon a time?” I asked her back.
“Yeah, it does surprise me. I was a bit of an inconsiderate jerk.”
“A good thing about here,” Ashley said, “It makes you introspective and think before acting.”
“That is very true,” our younger friend nodded in agreement, “I just fear I’ll go back.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be out by then and look out for you!” Michela could be quite positive.

After mass and a half hour more recreation came the time known as free time, where you stayed in the cell like quiet time but were allowed to talk to your cellmate. Next was lunch, which was wet fried chicken, green beans, red potato smash soup-crap, and chunky applesauce. Noon to 5 PM was always the worst…

——————————————————————————————

Visiting Mudville juvie was always sobering, and today I brought Michela with me so she could visit Madison Hill first while I visited Hannah Jones. You had to show a photo ID if you were an adult, but the staff knew me well. Getting a pass was easy, and the white slip had blue font with blanks which the printer filled in with my name, my driver's license info, the names and prison numbers of the girls I wanted to visit, and the visitation time assigned to me

“Hello, Miss Jones!” I eagerly took a seat on the outsiders side of the window.
“Hello, Miss Larsson,” Hannah-2 said in a weepy tone.
“What's wrong, Hannah Scrunchie? You're normally not like this.”
“I’m about to get sprung in, what, two weeks, and I have nowhere to go!”
“What? What do you mean nowhere to go? Your family still won't…”
“Nobody! Not my parents, not out of state family, none of my old church friends. Everyone I’ve ever loved wiped me out of their lives!”
“That Calvinism has its drawbacks now doesn’t it?” I asked her, “What kind of Christians?”
“Hannah, I’m begging you! Don’t be a jerk. I need help!” I saw the fear in her eyes.
“I’ll do what I can even if I have to sleep on the floor so you can have a bed.”

I would, too. If Mrs. Palmeri would let Hannah move in with us, then we’d have the Hannah and Hannah show whether in the guest bed or in my bed with me on the futon. No matter what, I had a resolve not to let Hannah Jones become homeless. Sadly, I’ll tell you right now, that, like M.A. and I, Hannah never again was on good terms with her family. It ended forever the night of New Years’ Day 2014. I know her pain, and we commiserate like no one else. Is it any wonder that (I alluded to this before) when Hannah became a Catholic that she asked me to be her sponsor?

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #74: A Day in Juvie 4
Sunday, July 21, 2013

From 12:30 to 3:30 was quiet time for real with a program to break it up from 3:30 to 4:30 if one was on the schedule. Today, a rarity, had no program because the person was sick. At 4:30, each of the cell doors was unlocked for those who weren’t on MV to move about if needed, but we did not have permission to talk to each other even if two of us happened to come out at once. In fact, today I did get to go out because Michela and I needed a fresh box of tissues!

Dinner often meant slop. Today was slop. Awful stuff masquerading as chicken and dumplings, canned carrots, canned peas, and lousy brown liquidy thing they claimed was a brownie. What it all was in reality was a mystery to all of us: me, Michela, Taylor, Madison, Kylie, Ashley, Felice, and Jackie. Maddy was surprisingly positive and found the best in every meal.

Then came the break and then the evening shower. There was no visitation today, so we spent an hour of free time in our cells. An hour of freedom to talk to Michela! Yay! OK, we still learned new things about each other…

“I promise you I will teach you to swim,” Michela said.

——————————————————————————————

“Mrs. Palmeri,” I humbly asked her that evening, “One of our prison friends is in trouble. She is going to be homeless when she is released,” I choked up a little, “She’s a Baptist, but she’s every bit as good of a person in her own way as Michela is. Mrs… Mom… can we help her?”

With a sigh, Mrs. Palmeri looked at Michela first and then me. She was conflicted. Was it not a strange enough situation that her daughter was in a relationship with me? Was it not enough that Michela met me in prison because she had shot her father and I had been a drug pusher? Hannah had a different story that it will soon be time to explore in depth; I’d talked about Hannah Jones a lot more than any of the others still inside. There was still another person we all forgot though, a person who Mom finally gave consideration. The girl in the bright blue bandana nodded though; she didn’t know anything except that she wanted to help.

“Please, Mom,” Louisa asked so sweetly, “Look at how Hannah’s changed from living here!”
“Michela,” Mom asked with a wavering voice, “Maybe your old room?”
“Forgive me for saying this in front of Soph… Mom, Lou knows already… Daddy tied me to my bed one day when we were home alone… that’s why I burned that bad bed…,” she shook a little, “It’s not my room anymore. It’s still just another place where Daddy hurt me. Can we?”
“Would it becoming someone else’s room really help you though? Maybe some paint?”
“Paint. New floors. New trim. Anything to make it not be that room,” Michela was crying.
“Hannah, I’ve had no regrets over letting you live with us. We’ll try. OK?” Mom acquiesced.

I called her “Mom,” but she was more like an older friend to me. Still, I gave her a hug and gave her a token of my appreciation of her decision. I hadn’t betrayed her trust, and I’m glad to say I never gave her any regrets all the years I had, and then, later, Ashley, lived in the Palmeri home. Would we do it with Hannah-2 as well? You’re going to find out later! Regardless, I hugged Lou for her sweetness.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #75: A Day in Juvie 5
Sunday, July 21, 2013

“Pop-tarts… just like home,” Taylor chuckled a little while watching baseball with Michela.
“Nothing like a baseball game,” Ashley enjoyed the only sport she liked.
“So, girls, what’ll it be tonight?” I sat with Madison, Jackie, and Kylie.
“I just wish I could take it all back,” Maddy sighed, “I just wanted to fit in.”
“I just wanted to be… wanted,” Jackie took off her burgundy red kerchief bandana.
“I thought I’d find happiness, never realizing my home life was dysfunctional,” I said.

As much as she could, Jackie would tell stories of her life as a professional teenage bandit who had no remorse. She would break into houses, tie up the residents, gag them, and raid the home. She did it dozens of times in a desperate bid to find stability until she realized she was unstable in her actions. That was when, after 4 years of that life, she surrendered herself to the police out of remorse and guilt. She told us this over a game of cards.

Then it was back to the cells at 9 or 9:30…

——————————————————————————————

“Mmmmm,” I groaned into one of Michela’s knee socks and heavy layers of vet wrap.
“There, there,” Michela tied her other knee sock over my nose.
“Well, my work here is done. I love you girls. Good night,” Luisa left us alone.
“Hannah, standing up for our friend like that,” she peered into my eyes, “I love you.”
“Mmmmmm!” I looked back into yours.
“You’ve helped so many people!” she passionately embraced me and erotically kissed me.

My clothes were quite firmly on me with the waist rope having a tight crotch rope as well. Tying my arms and elbows with rope and securing my legs six times ensured I was helpless. A harness was a nice addition, but Michela just wanted to kiss me and to grind me lightly. Passionate eyes gazed at me, and I sent passion back into her eyes.

I’ll cut things off right there before they get any dirtier than they already are. Michela and Luisa are girls with beautiful souls, and I am so grateful to have had them in my life then. Best of all, I still have them in my life.

Friendships like these are irreplaceable.

——————————————————————————————

Which will Hannah discover the hard way in Chapter 18?

(A) Even when bondage modeling, tit exposure requires permission!
(B) That not all girls are ticklish.

[johopp]

A

[harveygasson]

A

[hafnermg]

B!!

[AlexUSA3]

Chapter 17: Jessica Sanders
Monday, June 29, 2015

Hi, Hannah, long time no see. I heard from Kylie you live with Michela I slowly read the message sent to me by my former podmate May I come visit you? In hindsight, I realize there are friendships I left behind. I’d like to talk about Best Buy as well.
Sure. Come on over, I responded and gave her the address, I got work at 9 though.

Bridget Anderson wasn’t a good or moral person in the Christian sense, but she was in a secular sense. She had a weak personality though, and she was easily controlled by others via threats of physical harm. Before her arrest, she said she was frequently hurt by her younger sister and Irish twin, Annie, who was the criminal mastermind in their operation. Bridget was one of those with whom the past was an unacceptable topic. She would only say that she had many opportunities to tell her parents and chickened out and that therefore it was her own fault that she got arrested.

“Hannah,” she said, “My brother lives in Savage, and I live with him right now to keep Annie as far away from me as possible. All we do is fight, so I moved out,” she then sighed.
“How may I help?” I forced a smile to encourage her.
“I’m a little too knowledgeable about televisions. Think I could get a job as a saleswoman?”
“Oh, sure thing! As long as you don't have a felony on your record now. In fact, we’re hiring a salesperson right now, though I forget. Might be a refrigerator salesperson for all I know!” I laughed at my own lack of knowledge, “Ash knows.”
“I’ll do anything as long as it pays. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror.”

If you read The Bondage Model, you know I said Annie was arrested in 2016 and that that was the end of most true information about Bridget, who moved back to her parent’s home. That was the full truth in that sense. Bridget continued to work dependably and be around, but she did not talk about her personal life at all with anyone but Kylie. Maybe once a year, I could get any new information out of Bridget, but beyond that it was all regular work talk and such. We’ll get to more later, but she did get the Best Buy job and still holds it 9 years later.

“So,” Bridget asked once we were in the bedroom, “How would I look,” she pulled up her shirt to reveal her breasts, “With these trussed up? A big ball gag in my mouth?”
“Well,” I blushed a bit at this strange revelation, “Pretty damn nice, actually.”
“May I,” the forwardness of Bridget’s actions surprised her, “come with you to the shoot today?”
“Of course you may. I had no idea you knew!” I laughed a little, “Are you kinky?”
“I tried some fetish modeling, and someone mentioned your studio. I saw you,” she shrugged.
“Bridget, please try to smile; it really works,” was I trying too hard to be a bright spot in her life?

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Interlude #76: Bridget's Fears
Saturday, January 12, 2013

“She's out, and when I’m out she’ll kill me. I just know she will,” Bridget groaned.
“I’m sure she's trying to convince our brother that I’m the monster,” came later.
“I wonder how long before my parents abandon me like Hannah’s abandoned her.”
“When I get out, I’m sure Annie will beat me.”
“Do my friends pretend to love me?”
“Who else is going to betray me or coerce me into doing their will?”

——————————————————————————————

“Steve, meet Bridget Anderson, another hottie from my juvie days,” I introduced my podmate.
“Welcome!” he shook her hand, “Perhaps another star in the making that you’ve brought us!”
“Awww,” Bridget blushed a bit, “I’ll do my best without any promises.”
“She’s shy, but she’ll look good in ropes,” my now trained eye could see that much.
“Hannah’s a realist, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“We’ll take it easy. How familiar are you with us?” my employer took over the situation.
“A coworker told me to check you out; I saw Hannah and knew I had to try it,” Bridget was as direct and to the point as ever.

I walked over to a girl about my own size, thinner than myself, and who had a cheerful smile on her face. Patricia had blue eyes, perfect teeth, and a nice proportional pair in front of her. She was a sweetheart at a distance, and I could feel her contentment even as a debutante. All shared a common desire: to make money. At least for the damsels, that was the only goal.

“Nice to meet you,” we shook hands and smiled, “My boyfriend suggested I try it. Here I am!”
“I’m here to tie you up,” I laughed a little, “I’m good at it and nice with the girls, I guess.”
“That’s what Steve was telling me before you arrived. This warehouse is kind of big.”
“Yeah,” I looked around me, “I think other studios use this space as well.”
“The space is weirder than what’s about to happen,” she giggled a bit to compose herself.
“I have to agree. Nice chamber for a kidnapping though,” I said to her comfort.
“My boyfriend knew I’d give this a shot if I were paid to do it.”

I don’t know what it was about Patricia, but I never felt someone get into the role of being tied up as a damsel-in-distress like she did while also having no genuine interest in bondage. I bound her wrists behind her back, checked her elbows and determined they weren't flexible enough, and secured her legs and breasts in a typical TAC style all while Bridget curiously watched me.

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Interlude #77: Bridget's Friends
Tuesday, February 19, 2013

“You're good at this word stuff,” Bridget said to Kylie and Mary-Ann.
“It's just mental exercise,” Mary-Ann smiled.
“Nonsense. You read the dictionary three times,” Kylie retorted.
“Not counting the times I read it before juvie.”

Bridget rolled her eyes and sighed. She was full of so much uncertainty and fear. She knew that she genuinely cared about Kylie and that she had trustworthy friends in others, including me. It was hard for her, though. Something was wrong, as if there were times she couldn't control her own body.

As you can see, every girl would play a game with Maddy. What a difference that made for our distraught friend Bridget Anderson.

——————————————————————————————

It was different dominating someone I didn’t know. I felt a powerful trust between us despite an age gap of at least 5 years between me and Patricia. The blue tape nicely held to her face just as you see in the photos, and she cautiously obeyed Steve’s every command. I don’t know what it was, but we instantly clicked. Despite the age gap, I had found a person who I felt could be just a vanilla friend without any mutual interest in TUGs and no shared criminal past. I was only a dozen or so shots when Steve made the motions.

Tits out, my friends.

Which was it? Patty’s creamy yellow V-neck shirt, the white pantyhose, the white heels, or the plain TAC pinstripe skirt? I don’t know, but she was very endearing. I felt no sexual attraction to her but, like I said, it felt natural. She was like a long lost sister or something more than that, and she seemed similarly comfortable with me.

“Let’s just explore a little,” I asked her to trust me and removed her heels.
“Hmmm?” she broke her character for just a moment.
“Smell this,” I pushed the heel over her nose.
“YUCK!” she instinctively pulled away, and I knew then that the right thing was to toss them.
“Heh heh,” I chuckled a little, “You’re a good girl.”
“She has personality and looks,” Steve gave his two cents.
“Dayum, this is interesting work,” Bridget smirked, blushed, and looked down.

A sequence with Patty squirming on the chair and showing off her feet followed before I turned her around so she could do it the other way. After a few more shots, I sat her on the floor before I took the chair away. Now, she was on her knees and struggling just the same as ever. This was the truth of the field: most girls just wanted the payday and got no pleasure. It was all work.

Nevertheless, I thought she was good and pretty, the two most important things. No guarantees are to be found here though, so that’s why I turned to Bridget and helped her pick a blue sweater and striped miniskirt from the tubs that Steve had brought with him. White socks and red heels completed the outfit. We gave Patty a break for some cheesecake shots of Bridget.

Is this Patricia a total dish or what? Just look at her thrashing about with the steely determination of a movie spy. Sorry, you’re seeing it as photos. She managed to seat herself back upright with no help from me. At Steve’s behest, I gave her one heel to play with for a few shots, and then he had me put both back on her and stand her up for a few more shots.



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Interlude #78: Bridget's Terms
Monday, April 15, 2013

“You can do it,” Kylie whispered, “I believe in you, Bridget. Go for it.”
“You got this,” Michela added confidently.
“Bridget, you're your own person and you're strong! Hold your head up!” I contributed.
“Annie,” Bridget stood up straight with a tear rolling down her cheek, “I used to love you.”

Bridget looked back at us, crying because she did once upon a time love her sister dearly, back before Annie became the monster she was, and still is. Then Annie began to bully Bridget, beat her, and boss her around. This was her last chance before she was released on Friday to return to her personal hell where Annie was impatiently waiting for her.

“Mr. Lee, I have something important,” she spoke shakily, “I want to confess some crimes.”

Bridget stayed with us 6 more months, and Annie was sent to Shakopee.

——————————————————————————————

While Patricia sexily pulled the tape off her lips, I tied up Bridget in the exact same manner but with a plain fabric cleave gag for her first ever photoshoot as a bondage model. She admitted to a host of things, including foot fetish, giantess fantasies, and other things that all seemed to, deep down inside, repulse her. She was desperate for money, and she had few skills that could get her a real job. She wanted to no longer be slinging drugs or beating people.

“All right, hotty Patty, how was it?” I asked her when she stood up.
“Not my thing, but I can try again. Not today; I’ve got an engagement at noon.
“My girlfriend and I practice bondage at home,” I laughed a little.
“My boyfriend thinks I’ll enjoy being this; he doesn’t respect me,” she shook her head.
“Patty, if you want to dump him, I know people that can help you if safety’s an issue.”
“I’m not worried about him going berserk,” it was her turn to laugh, “Not his first dumping!”

Thankfully, she was right; she dumped him that afternoon without a hitch. For now, though, the room was focused on Bridget Anderson. No one knew then that 9 years later she would still be starring in bondage films. Her makeup was a war crime, though, if you ask me. Regardless, we put her through a different set of motions with her first getting put on the floor and then having her shirt pulled down without full exposure, yet, or having her heels taken from her.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #79: Bridget's Big Brother
Wednesday, April 17, 2013

“Garrett cried when I told him what I did,” Bridget shook her head and sniffed.
“Bridget, I am so proud of you… I could kiss you,” Kylie giggled, “You're brave!”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know it! You just faced up to Annie and chose right over wrong!” how Kylie’s face beamed!
“Yeah! You're right!” Bridget never feared Annie again, “She's only brave when I’m scared!”
“You're getting it!” Kylie was animated now, “You can start all over without her!”

That thought brought life to Bridget’s eyes. Her big brother, Garrett, had long begged her to get away from Annie. He visited her weekly and cared for her like Luisa cared for Michela. She did not know how to express gratitude, and her brother and parents were the only people outside of prison who knew both her and Annie of whom she didn't fear betrayal. Life was miserable, but deciding she wanted a better life than that was a good first step to recovery.

——————————————————————————————

Mmmm… tits.

At this point, I only do that to make you laugh. I hope it makes you laugh. Do you laugh? My BPD is shining through in the writing of this chapter, and I apologize for that. Childhood left me a shell of a human being, and I share it because I was about to learn that Bridget had a diagnosed condition as well.

Bridget’s tits weren't the best, but she had a full package of looks and acting skills that earned her a spot at the table for sure. I was honestly proud of her, watching her go through the motions of a bondage photoshoot without needing too much direction. She was a natural thanks to her other experiences that, although she wouldn't admit it, I worried included genuine p-rn. Something she said in the car suggested that she did one scene and hated it.

Regardless, a girl with hot tits was bound, gagged, and helpless at my hands while Steve snapped photo after photo of her for his collections of hotties-in-distress to sell on the internet. Today had been a good day, and I just knew I would see both of these girls again for future shoots although I wasn't sure how long Patty would go before she decided she'd rather not have the money. That wasn't the end of it though. Bridget had a surprise in store.



Bridget squirmed and squirmed like any other damsel. This girl didn't yell too much, but she did put up a fight. She seemed to be invigorated by the challenge. Something was in the works in an impressive manner because she escaped it without any help whatsoever!

“How was it?” I asked her when we were alone afterwards to go back to my home… yes, home.
“Good enough. I can do that every month or so for that kind of dough. I like Steve.”
“You're scarred. You keep looking around. What are you worried about?” I watched her eyes.
“I just think Annie is stalking me all the time. I’m…,” she sighed, “I’m schizophrenic, Hannah.”
“I’ve got BPD, and so does Kylie. Kylie's the girl to see,” I suggested, “She's an angel.”
“Yeah,” the idea brought a sparkle to Bridget’s eyes, “She saved my butt from Annie before.”
“There you go! You can do this, Bridget!”
“Yeah! I don't like bondage, per se, but I liked the challenge,” she held back.
“Oh? Anything to add?”
“I was a girl scout. I miss scouts,” the sparkle died, “Annie… ruined that for me too…”

Annie ruined everything for Bridget, it seemed.

——————————————————————————————

Interlude #80: Bridget's Freedom

“I’ll give her a black eye if she tries!” Bridget laughed before she left us.

With freedom comes responsibility. Bridget’s responsibilities included punching Annie, being a defender of her own honor, and eventually moving out of her childhood home. She was finished with being physically and psychologically abused, so she did what everyone else in her position did and does: she did stupid things. I don't want to judge, but being chained up and screwed for a p-rn film at $100 per hour is stupid. She should have demanded at least $175 for that extreme of a scenario.

Then came the foot work, the lesbian p-rn film, and the giantess work. I only know because she told Kylie. Bridget was desperate for cash, and she let herself be gangbanged, while in duct tape bondage and ring gagged, in all three holes at the same time for a measly $150 per hour. Bridget was about to get a lifeline named Kylie Svensson thanks to me. She had to get away from all the darkness before it began to tear her down.

——————————————————————————————

Steve promised me he would give Hannah Jones and Taylor Zawislak a shot when they both got out of juvie. Taylor—sometimes called Tay, Tay-Tay, or T.Z.—was at least going home to folks who were distraught without her and couldn't wait for her to be home. Hannah Jones was going home to my home, and as an intro I had Hannah-2 call me so she and Mom could talk.

“Well?” I asked her after the call was done, “How did she sound to you?”
“Like a scared little girl who's learned a hard lesson,” she looked at me with a caring face.
“Thanks, Mom,” I gave her a hug, “For giving her a chance. She's a sweetheart for real.”
“Hannah, I want to show you something,” Luisa grinned at me and motioned upstairs.
“All right,” I followed behind her, just in time for Michela to surprise us again.
“Gotcha!” she jump-hugged Luisa again, raining kisses on Luisa’s forehead, “I love you!”
“So this was what Michela routinely did before, huh?” I asked with a cheerful tone.
“Oh, multiple times per week,” Michela smiled and squeezed her sister tightly, “You're next.”
“Do it around 10 PM, and drag me to your lair as part of it,” I winked at her.

Luisa had nothing to show me except her sister's love. It was just a loudly announced ruse so I could watch Michela in action. That night I did get tied up, in a much friendlier context, by Lou instead of Michela, and got to sit there and listen helplessly while she and Michela talked as if I weren't there the entire time. I was tied to the desk chair in the loft and unable to escape. TUGs with Luisa are their own brand and something many people still cherish to this day.

——————————————————————————————

Which will be the debut gags for Hannah Jones and Taylor Zawislak? The choice of gag decides the other girl who will be tied up alongside them during the same shoot.

(A) Ball gags; Ashley Calland
(B) Cleave gags; Mary-Ann Voisin
(C) Tape gags; Kendra Kristensen
(D) OTM gags; Michela Palmeri

[johopp]

A

[AlexUSA3]

Chapter 18: Hannah & Hannah
Wednesday, July 1, 2015

“Shall we go?” I asked Michela, Luisa, Kylie, Kendra, Casey, and Ashley.
“Step on the gas,” Michela encouraged me to finally drive the SUV.
“Is this a big enough welcoming party?” I laughed quite boisterously as I pulled away.

It was finally time to make a trip to the Mudville Juvenile Detention Center. Today was the day I was picking up Hannah Jones… Hannah-2, Hannah J., Hannah Scrunchie, and Sweet Hannah… I took no offense from her being “Sweet Hannah” as opposed to me. She was, and is, sweet, and a lovable girl. Freedom for a girl who never deserved more than two weeks as a warning.

Given her height being closer to Casey’s, Casey graciously lent a pair of white sweatpants, one of her black hoodies, and a pink t-shirt for Hannah to wear. The depths of Casey’s heart are endless without limits to her love. Her example influenced all of us with her upbeat spirit and her desire to do the right thing. Even Luisa, Michela, and Ashley learned from Casey’s attitude in the face of her personal adversity. Casey suffered a traumatic brain injury in high school after falling off a scaffolding, and the resulting brain bleed caused her to nearly die from a stroke.

Driving to Mudville Juvie was always weird for me, and it’s weird to this day. I once was a girl who was locked up in here, and now I stand as a ray of sunshine baking cookies as a pod angel to the girls in there today in 2024. It’s a bittersweet job, and in 2015 I would have laughed if you’d told me I would someday work there. Today, it was all about business. Casey and Jenny sang a series of Bible songs for our ears to enjoy until I told them to be quiet because we had arrived. I had “work” at TAC in the afternoon.

There she was, complete with a pink bandana headband also given to her by Casey, sporting her usual content smile, Hannah Jones. I didn’t know then that these weren’t really Casey’s; Casey had bought all new clothes for her. Only Hannah knew because she got to remove the tags from the clothes before she could put them on. She had slipped the long discharged cell phone into a pocket of the sweatpants, and she had put her beautiful golden cross back around her neck. The jacket was zipped up to cover her belly and unzipped to reveal the curved-neck t-shirt. The old scrunchie still held her hair in a ponytail.

“It’s so good to finally hug you,” I said with tears in my eyes while embracing my friend.
“Your visits were hugs,” Hannah said before getting hugs and kisses from all, “Starting anew.”
“Shall we meet Mary-Ann at Teddy’s?” I asked and told Hannah, “It’s Pod F’s meeting spot.”
“I want to meet Mary-Ann so badly! I’ve heard so much about her!” Hannah said joyfully.
“Today is your lucky day,” Kendra smiled from hearing that, “It’s all about you!”

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Interlude #81: Rec'ing the Gym
Thursday, March 4, 2010

Mary-Ann and Ashley were happy to discover that they could go to the gym during rec time. In the pod, there were a couple of crazy girls at that time, and the escape was welcome. This was the time where Ashley really started to bond with Mary-Ann. Mary-Ann was closing in on her fifth release from juvie.

“I’ll be back Ashley. I promise,” Mary-Ann innocently vowed to return one day.
“Why do you want to be in here?” the 12 year-old whimpered a little.
“Because, Ashley, I have everything I need here. Mass, you, and the guards,” she smiled.
“That’s silliness. Don’t your foster families want you?” the orphan could not understand this.
“No! That’s why I want to be here. If I can’t live with Bernadette, then I might as well be here!”
“What about the foster siblings and parents? Don’t your actions hurt them too?”

Mary-Ann looked at Ashley and paused. She’d never considered that. She paused to think about her actions before she started crying. How many times she’d duct taped or otherwise tied up her foster siblings in an effort to get arrested! That day, Mary-Ann resolved not to hurt others in her attempts to get back to juvie.

——————————————————————————————

“I need something to wear on Sundays,” Hannah-2 examined her options, “But reasonable.”
“Look, sweetie,” Michela gazed into Hannah’s eyes, “Don’t worry about cost. Just get what you need to be happy with yourself and to have a comfortable life.”
“All right,” Hannah felt she could trust my girlfriend, “I just want to be comfortable.”

The outfit she wore stayed on her though. She felt the loving embrace of Casey’s love while she wore these clothes, and this outfit would remain her favorite for a very long time. It was only in the store, while Hannah, Michela, and Kenny were in the dressing room, that Casey told me and Lou the truth about her actions. I couldn’t resist hugging Casey.

“Teddy’s! I remember this place!” Hannah exclaimed happily, “We went here once when my dad and I were on our way to a Twins game!”
“This place is the best, isn’t it?” I ask her, “Ready to meet Mary-Ann for lunch?”
“Kylie, Michela, and Ashely talked about Mary-Ann so much that I’m dying to meet her!”
“Man, I didn’t know it meant so much to you,” Kylie dryly quipped with a smile.
“Listen here Kylie Rebecca Svensson,” Hannah turned to her, “Remember who crushed you at arm wrestling 7 months in a row!”
“Give me a zip, and you’d be tasting my socks,” Kylie straightened up and strutted into Teddy’s.

Hannah’s comment about arm wrestling surprised me. She never focused on strength training in juvie, but I suppose she could have developed her tone quite nicely, which would still add a little muscle to her even if it wasn’t the goal. She was a sweet girl on whom bulk didn’t look good; it was best for her to focus on tone for the sake of beauty and exercise for her health. My opinion.

Teddy’s was emotional because it was the first time since 2013 that Hannah had eaten anything but prison food, and it took her 10 minutes to decide what she wanted to eat. We had patience as we all could relate to the emotions which she felt. What joy it was for all of us though to add her to our group. Mary-Ann was such a stark contrast to Hannah, but she and Kendra were perfect.

“So, I’ve heard you have an interesting job, Hannah?” our new Hannah asked to my surprise.
“Oh, who told you that?” I looked around at my friends and saw joyful guilt on Ashley’s face.
“Who looks guilty?” Hannah smirked and resumed eating her food.
“What did she tell you?”
“Not much except that it’s extremely interesting and tons of fun… for the right person.”
“I’ll tell you when we’re alone,” it was my turn to smirk and resume eating.

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Interlude #82: Technologically Illiterate
Monday, September 6, 2010

“So… how do you turn this on?” Mary-Ann asked Ashley.
“Are you for real?” Ashley asked in absolute wonder at Mary-Ann’s ineptitude.
“Sure I am! I’ve never used a computer before. I’m self taught!” the 15 year-old girl grinned.
“Mary-Ann?” asked another girl, “You just push the power button looking button.”
“That’s a power button?” she vacantly stared at it and pushed it, “It works! Yay!”
“Sainte Monique, priez pour moi,” Ashley made the sign of the cross and looked upwards.

Mary-Ann was very quickly asked to take a different elective besides computer programming if she was this technologically inept. There was no offense taken by M.A. because she was only in the class to be with Ashley anyway. With that, Mary-Ann’s experience with computers came to a quick end and wouldn’t be restarted for some years still.

——————————————————————————————

“You tie up girls,” Hannah repeated, “Or get tied up… for fetish photography and videography.”
“That’s exactly right. I know nothing except that today the new girls are named Brittany Fischer and Cassidy Bauer,” I explained as we approached the house and knocked on the door, “It’s fun.”
“I wasn’t raised to be a p-rn star,” she nervously looked around herself, “Please don’t bully me to do it if I don’t want to do it, OK? Oh, sure, I played cops and robbers and always was robbed.”
“Of course I won’t. Jenny and Casey would never do it!” I smiled to reassure her.
“Come on in!” Steve welcomed us at the door, “Meet the latest damsels to come to us by way of the Minnesota Institute of Technology!”
“Sorority girls?” I asked hopefully, thinking of some others.
“Yes, but not those two girls. Well, one’s here, but not to shoot!”
“HANNAH!” I walked into the living room to see the big-busted Cassandra Novak.
“So these are Brittany and Cassidy?” I asked after exchanging a hug with Cassie, “Meet Hannah, who also comes to us via Pod F. Hannah, meet my friend Cassie.”
“Oh, boy, Cassie and Cassidy!” Hannah-2 nervously chuckled.

Cassie had a big, scrumptious set in front of her that I wanted to see so badly. She wouldn’t let me expose her on camera, though, although I’d heard stories from Joy and her sister. Cassie the sorority girl was more adventurous than Cassie the model. I was shown Cassidy, the redhead, for the first part of today’s shoot. Cassidy had ripped jeans, cowboy boots and a matching belt, and a pale blue long sleeve t-shirt without a bra underneath.

With Cassie’s advice, I showed no fear in binding Cassidy’s arms, tying her wrists, forearms, and elbows with the familiar clothesline and tied her ankles, knees, lower thighs, and upper thighs. It was a secure bondage, and double-sided tape and a white handkerchief were a perfect gag for her red hair and brown eyes. Some girls just look amazing in bondage, and Cassidy was one. Cassie said that Cassidy was going to be a sophomore this fall, and Brittany was going to be a junior.

“MMMMM!” Cassidy was a real hottie in distress.

An egg crate was a perfect chair for the taller girl who seemed to have a knack for struggling in a tight elbow tie. She was way too tall for that, and it forced her into more revealing positions that I knew the buyers would love this cowgirl. How many girls go to a bondage shoot dressed up as a cowgirl because it’s their natural look? She had the pleading eyes part of things down though.

After a photo of her bound arms, I hauled her up so her legs could be shown and then pushed her back into a sitting position. After a few more shots, we made her stand up and hop around a bit. It was then time for the best part: tits out, my friends. I pulled up her shirt for the cameras so she could let out some more frustrated sounds before the egg crate returned. She squealed loudly as her knees hit the concrete from her struggling, and soon it was time for a video of her struggling.

“Play it up. She’s OK with lezdom,” Cassie said before I got on camera.
“So little girl, are you trying to escape?” I squatted beside her to taunt her.
“Mmm hmm,” she nodded fearfully, before I fondled her.
“Poor thing,” I kissed her gagged lips, “You’ll leave your boyfriend for me, won’t you?”
“Noooo!” she pulled back from me.
“Then you’ll have to stay tied up,” I walked away from her and wiggled my fingers, “Byyyeee!”

This girl had been a treat, and now it was time for Cassie to be tied up. A revealing brown top, a velvety brown skirt, pantyhose, and brown heels were naturally pretty on Cassandra Novak. It’s time for cheesecake, and what a smile she showed in that cheesecake shot.



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Interlude #83: Wounds and Bounds
Tuesday, December 14, 2010

“Ow!” Ashley yells upon impacting the ground after tripping over a jerk’s leg.
“Clumsy idiot,” the assailant taunted her.
“You are a clumsy idiot,” Ashley growled, “Not knowing how to control your leg.”

But Ashley was bleeding a lot. The industrial carpet had shredded her arm because she wasn't wearing the long-sleeve undershirt. It was an ugly scrape, and Ashley found herself on her way to the nurse’s station. The girl that tripped Ashley had been a repeat offender and was the first girl in the pod, the first of two, that was transferred to Shakopee for being incorrigible.

That day, Ashley began to set up boundaries, mental boundaries between herself and the world as she grew to understand that some people in this world, not just her aunt, were monsters.

——————————————————————————————

Cassie, stage name Katelynn Banks, was short haired blonde with brown eyes. She wore a bust fitting tit harness, and more of the same clothesline bound her wrists, ankles, knees, and thighs to hold her hostage. As accessories, she had a thin blue headband and a matte red 2 inch ball gag in her mouth. It was such a lovely choice to go with that outfit I described before, but she scowled.

“This is all a bit interesting,” Hannah said thoughtfully, “Maybe not exciting to me, but I get it.”
“So, you can see, she’s just posing. It’s not bad, really, but she’s part of a bondage club too.”
“Bondage club?” my friend asked me while we watched Cassie turn 90 degrees at a distance.
“Yeah, a college sorority where the girls all like either tying people up, being tied up, or both.”
“Well, like I said,” she smirked, “I get it anyway. I can see why people would do this, but…”
“But what?” I looked at this unusual girl of Baptist stock whose worldview was now damaged.
“You’re not showing my breasts to the world. You do you, but for me it’s nudity.”
“What do you believe now after all that happened?” I asked her because of my own struggles.
“I still hold all the same tenets that are common to our churches, but…,” she turned away.
“But what?” I knew she was a girl I could push to talk.

She just shook her head and understood that she now doubted the values of her Baptist childhood and her upbringing. She was scared of life now. She sat down on a chair and wrapped her arms about herself in a tight, frightened hug. Life bore uncertainties that she never considered before all that had happened. What kind of love did her parents have to drop her like a hot potato upon the first inkling of trouble? My parents dropped me like a hot potato too. Together, we were on the road to defying our upbringings and embracing the very thing our parents most desperately hated and wanted us to avoid, and we in turn would discover that truth, at least for us, was found in that thing and that it was our parents who were scared of truth and not those they feared.

The floral motif of the western paisley matched Hannah’s Larsson and Jones perfectly. The two of us were flowers lost in the swirl about us not knowing yet that we were in the right place. We were beautiful parts of a beautiful creation, and we still had our shape and form despite washings and drawings that buffeted us, challenged us, and threw us about. I let Hannah take my hand in hers and hold it for security as she faced a future that was scarier than juvie.

It was time for me to pull our beautiful girl off the chair. She’d done all the usual leaning about in one direction or another as Steve wished us to do. Her legs had been put on display, and she’d given him a heaping helping of swearing as well. Now she was standing and, with each snap of the camera, slowly lowering herself to a squat. Then she dropped to her knees and finally sat at a 90 degree angle to the camera’s direction. It was my turn.

“Cassie, may I expose you for this film?” I asked her as sweetly as I possibly could ask anything.
“Uhhhh,” she paused for a moment, then nodded… Friends, we were going to have tits out.

“MMMMMMM!” Cassie struggled for 2 minutes, seeking an escape from the ropes.
“Well, well, well, my big titted beauty,” I crouched down and finally pulled her tits out.
“MMMMM!” she wailed at that quite loudly, making drool pour off the gag.
“Nice,” I took off her heel, and sniffed it, “Bleck! How does that smell?”
“Go away!” she said despite the ball gag, trying to avoid her shoe, “Eave -e -e!”
“Smell it,” I pushed it against her nose before deciding to hogtie her.

With the hogtie, we left her to squirm for about 3 more minutes.



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Interlude #84: Solitary Confinement
Monday, December 5, 2011

“Mmmm!” Jacqueline struggled in her prison bondage.

When fights broke out in the pod, the muzzles and straitjackets came out. The blonde girl had an altercation in the library with a girl with serious mental issues. They had casually bumped into one another, and Jackie apologized. It wasn't good enough; the girl jumped Jackie and punched her, right in front of the librarian, so Jackie came back at her using those skills learned from her years as a hardened criminal, giving the other girl bruises she'd never forget while Jackie broke her orbital bone in agonizing fashion. Regardless, the muzzles and jackets came out until both girls stopped raging.

Then shame overcame Jackie, who was grateful for being brought to the hospital for x-rays and a mending of her other wounds. The muzzle and jacket never returned, but something else came to Jackie instead: solitary confinement for three days.

In solitary, you have no privileges except a quiet shower and spend the rest of the day locked up in your cell. After three days, you finally get returned to your cell, a little crazier and a bit more appreciative of your friends.

——————————————————————————————

Last of all came the adorable Brittany Fischer. The tie was standard TAC style. What was fun was the schoolgirl outfit with a plaid skirt, t-shirt, sweater vest, white knee socks, and red high heels. They went nicely with her short brown hair and hazel eyes.

We started with Brittany sitting on a wooden chair and gagged with red duct tape. She was sent through the usual motions associated with bondage modeling with no complaints being heard out of her mouth. Steve didn’t seem too fond of how she looked in bondage, and he took few photos of her in each position before the order came for her to stand up, which she did on her own with ease, and for me to take the chair away. Again, few photos followed of Brittany in each position, which was a shame because she was a cute girl who looked natural in the school girl outfit. He was in no hurry for her though and quickly ordered me to untie Brittany.



The second outfit was just as cute. A tank top, a purple miniskirt, and white heels again looked adorable on her. Steve, however, disagreed, and looking cute in his eyes was a major portion of keeping a job here at TAC. I tied her up just the same as before, and again Steve skipped pinups to go straight to bondage. We even skipped straight to floor shots.

I felt bad. It wasn’t obvious to the rest, but it was obvious to me that Steve didn’t like Brittany in the least except her personality. He rushed through the shots before asking me to tie a rope about her neck and thighs in an effort to make her look more appealing in his eyes. I felt bad for her. I judged his actions; in reality, she was just hitting all the marks without him having to say a thing.



“Steve’s rushing; he’s not interested,” I whispered to Hannah, “I’ll help.”
“All right,” Hannah and Felicia shrugged.
“Let’s take a peak at these,” I pulled Brittany’s shirt down for the camera; tits out, my friends.
“EYY! -ITCH!” Brittany yelled at me in an extremely angry voice, “NO!”
“Oh my God!” I ran out of the house and right to my car with Hannah chasing after me.
“Hannah, control yourself!” my friend Hannah followed me, but I wouldn’t listen.
“Hannah, come back! It’s OK!” I ignored Cassie’s pleas for me to remain, “Please!”

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Interlude #85: Voluntary Confinement
Monday, January 9, 2012

“Mr. Edmunds, I’m feeling… bad,” Jackie said to the guard, “Bad like I’ll hurt myself.”
“Jackie, are you sure? You’ll go into 72 hours of solitary and see a counselor each day.”
“Sir, I used to do bad things, and I know they were bad,” she cried, “I hate myself!”
“You remind me of my own child,” he then called in, “We have a voluntary in Pod F.”
“What happened to your daughter?” she knew he wasn't that old.
“Congenital liver failure,” he sighed, “Nothing is worse than losing a daughter.”
“Thank you, Mr. Edmunds, for loving your daughter so much you adopted 16 in her memory.”

Her words will stay in Mr. Edmunds’ mind for the rest of his life. Jackie was led away from Pod F to psychiatric evaluation, the beginning of her journey to healing. Never again was Jacqueline Martin any lower than a II in juvie.

——————————————————————————————

“Don’t feel bad,” Hannah tried to comfort me while I was curled in a ball and sobbing.
“I feel like such an idiot,” I couldn’t be comforted right then, “A monster.”
“Hannah, listen to me, it was a mistake. You didn't mean to offend Brittany.”
“But I did,” I hung my head low and stopped crying.
“Get up,” Hannah hauled me off the floor with frightful ease, “I need you right now!”
“What? Me? I’m sorry. I’m being selfish,” I finally blamed myself and not my BPD.

“Hannah,” she looked into my eyes, “You're all I have right now. I’m scared right now. I don't know what the future holds for me any longer. You see… I was drunk that night, and I did try to drive myself home… but… I don’t remember the details… I just remember that one of the boys tried… He tried to… Take advantage of me… One of my best friends from church… So I ran as quickly as I could, drunkenness and all… I had planned not to drive myself home, but after that I couldn’t stay there… I was so upset… I was barely drunk, but I’ve blotted it out of my mind and don’t… He didn’t get to hurt me… he got far enough to rip my clothes before I kicked him in the nuts… My parents said I was a drunken wh-re and not truly a Christian… It was the first time in my life I’d ever drunk alcohol; I’m still a virgin… they didn’t listen… called me a liar.”

We shared more than a name… we shared a life. Her story and my story were so similar yet not similar at all. I again thought about the flower on that pink bandana while sitting next to her on her bed. She made a big mistake and in doing so made a bigger mistake in an effort to preserve the flower of her virginity. I made a big mistake today and in doing so made a bigger mistake in an effort to preserve the flower of my dignity.

“Hi,” I heard that brunette’s voice, “Hannah?” I looked up and saw Brittany Fischer.
“I’m sorry for running away on you and for ripping your shirt open. I don’t blame you if you’re done with modeling and hate me. I don’t care if you want to punch me. Go ahead. I don’t—”
“Shut up,” she handed me the envelope with my pay, “Cassie and Cassidy are downstairs. I’m sorry I exploded like that instead of keeping calm. I really liked being tied up by you. Before the scenes, we’d all agreed to discuss being your sponsors into the sorority because you’re going to Minn Tech this fall.”
“Oh… I’ll forgive you even if you don’t want to forgive me,” I forced myself to look at Brittany.
“It’s all right,” she smiled, “You’re forgiven. Anyway, we wanted to talk to you, but you sort of took off. Steve explained things to us in a way that made sense and said you needed time alone.”
“That’s fine. He knows I’m kind of crazy,” I nervously chuckled, but she accepted my humor.
“Wanna sit by the pool and talk about the sorority? We’d love to have you.”

And that’s what we did in the remaining time. We talked about the sorority about Minn Tech and their rules and what they did, including an environment in which Brittany was OK with exposure and how she didn’t like modeling and wouldn’t do it again even if asked to do it. I learned that Cassidy and Brittany were cousins who went to Minnesota Tech and how Brittany first stumbled into bondage games and got Brittany to join as well and their roles in Joyce and Joy joining. By the end of the day, my mistake led to me having two new friends in Brittany and Cassidy and having a strengthened friendship with Cassie and Hannah.

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Hannah gets the phone call from Tommy Trusser for Chapter 20! Where will she be shooting?

(A) A hotel
(B) Tommy’s house

[johopp]

A

maybe they forget to lock the door so the hotel stuff comes in when she is already tied up.

[silvertejp590]

A!

[Caesar73]

Finally caught up with this tale!

I vote for A!

[hafnermg]

Great updates!! A!!

[AlexUSA3]

This story is delayed by Hurricane Helene, but I am all right.