Spy Camp (m+f+/m+f+) Complete!

[Caesar73]

At first, trying to act like a rebel was her way of distancing herself from commitments and showing her true self. Now, she feels the pressure to be perfect. Giselle certainly has many talents but can be her own worst enemy.

I would say that sums up Giselles Dilemma - she faces at the Moment -pretty nicely. As I see it? Giselle is on a road trip. She has not yet an Idea, where this way might lead her.

[Beaumains]

The three commanders sat opposite Washington in his study. Tarantula’s smile was wider than an ocean, nervously tapping her fingers against the chair. Ocelot hid his well, but his sparkling eyes betrayed him. Giselle was weary, not trusting the camp boss and his crony Dallas to his side. There had to be a catch.

“First, tonight you have to survive the vote of confidence of your peers. Hence, this afternoon, I will give you general instruction and a basic brief,” the middle-aged man in his neat shirt spoke before explaining their roles. Giselle was more interested in a pigeon sitting outside the window.

“Thus, your task is to lead the planning and execution of this mission. That does not mean you should do everything. Involve your colleagues and use their strengths and ideas to their fullest potential. You are the commanders but should realize you cannot do this job alone.”

Washington took another sip of coffee. “I will help you to realize your ideas and strategies. I will retrieve answers to your information inquiries using the agency’s resources and arrange resources like transport, weapons, and clothing. However, I will not provide unprompted advice nor will I give any broad advice at all. You have to deal with the problem. However, I will check that everyone has a job and nobody feels left out. Understood?”

The three teens nodded, and the 43-year-old man retrieved a thick file from his drawer. The yellow binder said “top secret” in red ink.

“Despite their failed kidnapping plot and losses at the factory, Wolfsbane seems poised to strike again.” Wolfsbane was a paramilitary group and the primary enemy of the teen’s summer camp. The name was stupid, Giselle reasoned. If they were all animals, it was cartoon logic that their opponent was a deadly plant.

“Our sources are unclear about the exact plans, but the government asked us to act already. Security has been increased around several potential targets. An attack on the critical infrastructure of this country is likely. If such an attack was successful, it could cost many lives and impact millions more. Another option is that they want to attack the Dyton family again.” The last time, they had kidnapped the daughter of the Dyton family, and Giselle had played a crucial part in freeing her. Therefore, they were the main reason she was stuck in this brain-dead meeting.

“According to our information, they have three potential targets. First, the Newwood hydro-electric dam supports many households with electricity,” Washington continued, listing too many facts to remember while putting ten photos on the table, ranging from satellite images and maps. Giselle recognized the place. Although having forgotten the dam’s real name, the pictures were familiar. The dam was no longer used to generate power but not blown up, and she had paid it a visit during a long weekend filming with WeWereThere when she was 12. It had been sometime in September. They had rappelled down and swam in the waters below. Getting inside had been tricky, and it was mostly a long dark tunnel with vaults and levers she had not dared to touch.

Giselle kept her poker face as they went through the photos. Was this another setup to reunite WeWereThere? The place had not changed.

“The second target is our industry, and more specifically, the railways that tie them together. There is a large train depot in Newwood as well.” Giselle was anything but interested in its made-up capacity and logistical importance and waited on the photos. Another familiar place. They had visited it on the same weekend. A decade ago, a small railway company had gone bankrupt and a dozen trains were rotting in the depot. The older teens from WeWereThere had given her a cute train conductor’s costume, and she had been forced to track down the “far jumpers” in a game of hide-and-seek. Then they played dodgeball on a train, and afterward, she and Antoinette shared a train compartment for the night and watched the sunrise.

She had enjoyed the weekend a lot, and returning to these places was bittersweet. Who had proposed these locations? She could not recall. Maybe Antoinette, having learned about these places at Spy Camp the summer prior. Would Washington know they had been there?

“Third is the summer cabin of the Dyton’s. Their daughter is spending time there with a friend after the traumatic kidnapping,” Washington continued feeding them an endless stream of information. It was a generic cabin in the woods that Giselle had never seen. She was unsure whether Dallas’s piercing gaze had enabled her to read her mind.



“You don’t have to campaign?” Eight asked as she left the building with Giselle two hours later. Giselle was finally free and loved the fresh air.

“I am not desperate and will not fall so low. If people don’t want me, vote me out. I couldn’t care less.”

“No surprise,” Eight smiled, giving Giselle a friendly pat on the back. “But you are pretty desperate. You said you wanted to talk, and when I joked I needed you to be tied up, you agreed. That’s not the Swift Fox I know.”

Giselle kept silent as Polar Bear and Snipe rushed past them into the forest. Polar Bear carried a backpack identical to Eight, also filled with materials to tie someone up. Giselle followed her friend in another direction, through a thin unofficial trail to a creek filled with reed. Ducks quaked as weeping willows covered the banks.

“Macaw showed me a few days ago. It’s beautiful here.” The actress removed a climbing harness and gave it to Giselle to put on. It was the type that was fixed to her hips and shoulders.

“Is this necessary?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to run away if it gets too difficult. Besides, I want to make the most of my time so that everyone can tie everyone up. Those opportunities are rare.”

Giselle knew better than to argue and rolled her eyes. They would be tying each other up all summer. That is enough for a lifetime. Wearing the harness, she climbed one of the weeping willows. Spider Octopus tied ropes behind her shoulders and hips, and ten minutes later she hung horizontally, 20 feet above the duckweed below. Her friend had tied a stick between her wrists and behind her back, forcing her into a T-pose.

“Shouldn’t you tie my legs as well?”

“Nah, you kicking air is cute. Aren’t you helpless enough already?” Eight leaned in and gave Giselle a kiss on the cheek. The bound girl flushed, and her friend climbed further up. “That proves my point, my little bird. Now it’s your turn. What did you want to discuss?”

Giselle opened her mouth and stared at Spider Octopus whose real name was Vespina Procter. Apparently, she was one of the most famous and talented Hollywood stars of her generation. Cinnamon brown hair as in a shampoo commercial, cute freckles but not too many, perfect lips, and emerald green eyes that were mischievous, comforting, and intelligent simultaneously.

“I, eh, I am being set up,” Giselle said. Her heart pounded. Why would the actress care about her problems? And why would she trust her? This felt so stupid, and feeling alone, she had made a rash decision. “I was part of WeWereThere, right?”

Eight nodded and smirked. Giselle knew she had warm memories of them. Hence, she would not give the full breakdown of the breakup.

“It ended kinda badly, and this camp is connected to it. Antoinette went here years ago and now uses it to reconnect with me. Washington supports her, so I am trapped. Two of the three locations for the next mission are WeWereThere locations. He knows. He tests me whether I share that information with the group while I obviously do not want that. I want to forget about that time.”

Just spelling these words out made her feel angry. The world is unfair. She repeated the story once more because it was incomprehensible.

“That’s a lot, Fox. Thanks for telling me. This explains a lot.”

“I shouldn’t…”

“No, no, Fox. Thanks. That took courage.”

[Caesar73]

The most intriguing Part of this Chapter? The Conversation Eight and Giselle are having. Open up that way she does is seldom for her. I like the overall setting of this Sequence. Giselle hanging around so to speak at a most idylic Place.

[Mineira1986]

I'll have to re-read from the beginning to refresh this story in my mind, but I'm glad it has continued!

[Beaumains]

I'll have to re-read from the beginning to refresh this story in my mind, but I'm glad it has continued!

Thanks a lot! It's great to see you back here!

[Beaumains]

Giselle had survived the confidence vote during dinner, just like the other two commanders, Ocelot and Tarantula. They had received 0, 1, and 3 votes against them, respectively. Consequently, all three were in Washington’s office, going through the three locations and 33 animal names. They had to figure out a strategy for the mission of the next day. While they had been the attackers during the previous mission, they now had to defend all three locations.

In the afternoon meeting, Giselle had proposed to survey their fellow campers to get around the gossip and superficial assumptions they had about their peers. She had prepared the questions before dinner and handed them out after she had outperformed her expectations for the vote. They also had to know who wanted a leadership position or was afraid to take a risk for the team. Now, the commanders had to sieve through many pages of almost unreadable scribbles. Giselle would be confined for the next few hours.

Meanwhile, three stories beneath, the luckier teens were playing a version of battleships, where the majority ended up hogtied on the grass. Giselle did not dream about being hogtied, but she felt left out. The window was open, and the laughter and screaming reached her ears. She swept a tear away before anyone noticed it. Bad memories surfaced.

In the hospital, Giselle had been shackled to a bed looking over the big playground. She had constantly dreamed of exploring the castle-like structure, crawling through the tunnels, getting lost in the hedge maze, and scaling the climbing wall. Hearing the laughter of the other children every day was almost unbearable. Her only distractions had been worksheets emailed by her school, five movies, and boring “age-appropriate” books she would finish in 15 minutes and concerned sick children. She was lonely. All adults seemed to talk about her rather than to her, and they preferred to whisper around instead of even asking her opinion on anything. They fantasized about what she fancied without ever prompting her about her preferences. Giselle’s parents would visit once a week, taking turns. All the other children got more visitors who would stay for longer than two hours. More and more, she wished to go outside and run around, but she was tired and stuck to a machine. She wanted people to play with peers and see more than overworked doctors, overly friendly nurses, and awful clowns. She had been powerless. She had no happy memories from that time.

In Washington’s study, Giselle regained her concentration and rehearsed the simple plan. In the afternoon, they would recon in small groups to map out positions while also spying on their opponents. Giselle would do the recon. She had learned parts of the map but had to see everything in person. Then, in the evening, they would split into five groups. Two, led by Ocelot and Willet, would cover the train depot. Tarantula would deal with the cabin in the woods, and Bull Dog would take care of the dam.

Giselle would oversee the last group, the strategic reserve unit. They could attack the assailants in the back and encircle them or at least confuse them. They had played some games in the forest involving tactical positioning, and their effectiveness had surprised Giselle. Her team (which contained Eight) had to memorize all three locations. She had been surprised that Ocelot and Tara had vouched to give her that important position but took delight in being trusted with the responsibility and allowed to form her own plans on the ground.

But even with a rough plan, it took another hour of negotiations to distribute the rest of the teams and establish a chain of command. It was merely organizational bullshit that took too much time and energy. Giselle had a plan. They would endure if the others were smarter than a koala and sloth combined. And they had to scout out the locations first.

It was past ten when Giselle was allowed to use her legs again. The sun had set, and a group of boys downstairs were messing with marshmallows and some sort of powder that caused large yellow flashes in the campfire. Giselle followed Tara downstairs into the basement, where a small group of girls were messing around on the piano. The rest was tied up. For reasons Giselle was not interested in, Leafwing had Red Deer on her lap while pink glittery rope bend their bodies into each other while pink balls filled their mouths.

“Hey guys!” Willet welcomed them in. “How is the mission prep going?”

“Great. We made some good progress. Washington likes it. According to him, it looks already better than the previous mission,” Tara replied with her trademark smirk. The last part was a lie to rile Willet up, but Giselle did not correct her. Their rivalry had not ended, but it was playful now.

Giselle felt Eight focused on her. “It’s a lot of work. Next time, someone else can do it.” She was not lying. She was still indifferent about the “commander” title or its privileges. Many eyes looked at her, unsure how to assess her statement. “What are you playing?” She did not want to know but wanted to steer the topic away.

“We found a 2011 trivia game,” Cottontail shouted from behind. She and Hedgehog were taping Macaw to a steel closet. “How much do you know about 2012?”

Giselle barely remembered the year. She nodded. She had missed her window to run away.

“She would fit into the sphere, wouldn’t she?” Willet inquired. It was miraculous that she always remained untied during such games.

“Most likely,” Cottontail said, pulling the chair away from under Macaw’s feet such that only the tape carried the former commander’s weight. “So should we then do Fox versus Hedge next? I also wanna see someone in that ball.”

Giselle rolled her eyes. She could not tap out now, especially as these girls had to take risks under her command the following day. “Sure.”

“Then we should guarantee you don’t chicken out,” Willet chewed. When Hedgehog approached Giselle, she locked handcuffs between their wrists.

While Eight played tense game show-esque themes on the piano, Willet grabbed the stack of question cards. “Ladies, the first to answer five questions wins. First question: Who played Catwoman in The Dark Knight Rises?”

Giselle had no clue. She barely paid attention to mainstream media, like Hollywood, pop music, or even the news. At least she had already made peace with the fact she would end up in the ball, whatever that entailed.

“Anne Hathaway?” Hedgehog chirped after a moment of thought. Giselle did not trust her completely, but she was a decent person. Tarantula had convinced her to add Hedgehog to her elite reserve unit, even being in the girl subteam with herself and Eight. Three boys formed her other subteam. The annoying thing was that Hedgehog could sneak, climb, and think on her feet, which Giselle valued in her teammates. Moreover, she had performed well in many events, making it impossible to circumvent her.

“Correct!”

It goes without saying Giselle lost big time. At least she answered the Brave question, mostly because she had seen that movie at least 30 times in the hospital. It was a five-to-one score. Behind the piano, there was a pile of bondage gear: ropes, gags, body bags, and a lot of small things Giselle still did not recognize. She had missed that all was lying in two half-spheres, which were also meant to make a girl’s evening more uncomfortable.

The two half-spheres consisted of hard, clear plastic with breathing holes, like a giant hamster ball. Merely two-and-a-half feet in diameter, it was not quite gigantic. Willet pulled it out and connected the two halves before removing the cuffs between Hedgehog’s and Giselle’s wrists. “Get in, Fox.”

Giselle sighed and stepped into the plastic shell. She was short, easily within the shortest 1% in the country, but it was still anything but spacious. She only fitted in a fetus position. The girls closed the thing, fastening the six clamps around the red lid. If they had wanted, Giselle could have been gagged or roped up as well. Such mercy was rare, but she knew better than to celebrate prematurely.

“So, does it roll?” Hedgehog asked.

[Caesar73]

So Giselle adapts to her new leadership role. That she ends in a casket of sorts? Such Treatments are common in the Camp. It will be interesting to see how the Defence Mission will go .....

[slackywacky]

Oh no... "Does it roll?"

A dreaded question probably for Giselle. Locked in the shell there is absolutely nothing she can do. What will happen next?
Nice cliffhanger.

[Beaumains]

Thanks for the kind comments guys!

I will be finishing the story soon. Only a few chapters remain.
-----------------------------------------------------

Giselle slammed the black minivan’s door for the final time and stared at Tara, Red, and Lionfish as they escorted their two female prisoners upstairs. They were gagged with rags, and jute hoods covered their faces. Their arms were bound behind their back.

Eight pealed the balaclava from her sweaty face. Her ears were red, and her pupils were small, but a smile covered her face. Giselle recognized it as genuine. Eight was a good actress, but Giselle had learned how to read her. The adrenaline still rushing through her body, and the slow realization that it was all over was hard to fake.

“Good job, Fox,” Willet said as she passed by with Cottontail. A few others followed until the two small girls remained in the car park behind the office building. It was 2:15AM, and the mission had just concluded. Giselle just nodded and accepted the pleasantries.

“You’re up to something,” Eight remarked. “What’s it?”

Giselle also removed her balaclava. “It’s that easy to tell?”

“Yeah, now I know you.”

Giselle scuffed. “I just want to sneak off. Nothing special. Have some time for myself.”

“And miss the party? FOX! Come on. You were crucial in this victory. I would say even the architect and executioner of the plan. And now you want to run away?”

Giselle lifted her shoulders. Her head hurt, and her eyes burned from being forced to concentrate and be alert for an entire day. The emotional roller coaster of wins and losses had taken its toll, and the weight of responsibility was genuine. And it had not been flawless. But this battle with Eight could not be won. They walked inside, putting their laser guns and vests on the pile, and grabbed a piece of apple pie and a mug of hot chocolate. Slightly more than half of the group was present. Half a dozen were interrogating prisoners, but seven had also been slain on the battlefield. It hurt Giselle that three had been in her group.

They claimed an empty table in the corner, and Honeybee soon joined them. Her eyes were also weary and sparkling simultaneously. From the command post, she had been in direct contact with Giselle. Together, they had made split-second calls that turned out to be correct despite ignoring the three commander-based chain of command. All three remained silent, gaping at each other with long smirks. Words were unnecessary to comprehend that they had put in a lot of work, some would argue the most. Giselle and Eight had shot nine and five opponents, respectively, half of the 28 total. Only Ibex (with five kills) came close, but he was the last other survivor from Giselle’s group.

Though Spy Camp is Spy Camp. The joy could not last long for Giselle.

Washington had entered the room. At first, he had been observing with the hidden smile of a high school principal watching his students arrive in the morning while wearing his worn-out suit with a red tie. After exchanging pleasantries with the other campers, who had taken far fewer risks and seen not even a third of the action Giselle had experienced, he sat down at their table.

“Amazing work, girls,” the middle-aged man said. “Very impressive. The preparation was excellent, and you read the situation perfectly as well. Congratulations.”

Giselle eyed Eight, who was media-trained. She was better at accepting compliments. It worked for a while, but Washington soon focused on her.

“Swift Fox, would you mind to come to my office?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to speak to you?”

“Why now?”

“Why not?”

“It’s late?” Giselle rebuked. From relaxed, she had turned tense. What was the catch? Antoinette would not be present, so what trap had he prepared to ruin her night?

“Okay, fine,” she spoke, standing up. The euphoria was gone, and adrenaline had replaced it. But this was not the good adrenaline she had experienced earlier that night.

“Do you know why I want to talk to you?”

“I have some guesses.”

‘Which are?” His voice was oddly happy.

“I don’t self-incriminate.” Giselle had not played cleanly, and some strategies she had used were only known to a few, and camp employees were not among them.

First, she had tagged all three minivans, as her team could only use one. Hence, she had deduced that their opponents would use the other vans. Only Honeybee knew. All evening, they had communicated in code to keep their secret advantage.

Secondly, she had scouted the places and found a few buildings to climb to position themselves in an unexpected place. At the train depot, Ibex had gotten three from a watch tower, and Giselle had gotten three kills by climbing around a fence, roughly 80 feet above the water. Many adults would not like teenagers full of adrenaline to attempt that in the pitch-black. And she had pulled out a few more shenanigans as well.

Oh, and she had jumped out of a moving van. And she had been to two of the locations before.

Washington scratched his cheek. “Why do you expect it is something bad?”

“Because well...” Giselle paused for a moment. Things never went smoothly. If something went well, something would later ruin it. If she finally got a good grade in school, her parents would tell her her brothers would have done better. She could never be perfect.

“Please sit down.”

Giselle complied.

“Giselle, you have done a phenomenal job in the past two days. You should be very proud of yourself. This was one of the best performances I have seen in all the years I organized this camp. Truly.”

Washington awaited Giselle’s reply.

“But…?”

“I am not trying to mess with you, Giselle. During the night, we allowed the attackers to make a few more moves because their first attacks were utter disasters, mostly due to you. The group battled them six times, and your subgroup was in all those fights. You outmaneuvered them in five fights, only getting caught off-guard when they struck your subgroup. That was not an act. You truly caught them by surprise. Doing that once is already an achievement.”

“But I also walked in a trap.”

“Yes. You got trapped after your enemy deduced your subgroup was moving. We allowed this to test your subgroup, and this was not planned. This was a mistake on your part, but it was challenging. The fact that three of you escaped is not a bad outcome.”

“But why do you need to tell me that here?”

“Because the few minor losses mean more to you than the victories. I have watched you prepare for the mission and make crucial decisions in the field. Giselle, you have talent and put in the hard work. I made you commander because I believed in you, and you outdid my expectations royally.”

Mixing facts into the truth is a good way to hide one’s lies. The mission had not been an outright disaster. But it had been anything but perfect. What was Washington trying?

“I would love you to believe in yourself. If you put your mind to something, it will succeed. Don’t let others kick you down. Okay?”

Giselle nodded.

“Shall we return?”

“I think I will just go to bed.”

“Then see you tomorrow. Have a good night. You can sleep in.”

Giselle dashed out of the office and took a longer route to her bedroom to avoid the party. She was tired and wanted nothing to do with anyone anymore.

But she was mistaken. Someone dressed in black pajamas with long, wet brown hair stood against the door, picking dirt from beneath her nails.

“You’re awfully predictable,” Spider Octopus spoke while allowing Giselle to unlock her room. “Mind if I join you tonight?”

“You mean I have to kidnap you?”

Eight flung a bag of ropes at Giselle.

She caught it. “You are serious?”

Eight already lie on the big mattress. “Naturally.”

Giselle sat down and began binding the actress’s ankles together. A warm feeling filled her chest. “You smell nice.”

“I might have smuggled a few things in...”

[Caesar73]

I like the built up of this Chapter. The Debriefing, the Celebrations - then Washington arrives and Giselle´s Mood turns sour. She is not used to the fact, that the Principal wants to see her in his Office must not mean anything bad on principle. But her Reaction is only human. Almost anybody ordered to see the Headmaster will assume that bad stuff will happen.

The Conversation takes then an entirely different Course than Giselle is expecting. Instead being dressed down, she is lauded and praised. This must be something new for Giselle. And Washington knows that.

He did well!

[Ovi1]

Nice continuation. We've seen Giselles attitude towards TUGs change a lot over the story, and this was a good moment to show that her attitude towards authoritative adults is being tested as well.

[Beaumains]

--- Five weeks later ---

Five stories beneath, a squirrel roamed the forest edge looking for food. A crow tracked its movements, ready to steal anything the fluffy mammal would find. The sun was blood red and predicted a rainy day. So early in the morning, it shone barely above the forested mountains, which Giselle had scaled two weeks prior. Now, her legs hung over the concrete edge of the factory’s roof. Behind her, someone prodded through the gravel towards her.

“Morning, Fox. You’re early today,” Hedgehog spoke softly. She sat down next to Giselle and yawned.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same. I cannot believe it’s ending. The last day. I doubt I even respond to Kari anymore.”

Giselle smirked. The previous day, the real, legal names of the remaining 20-odd campers had been revealed in a game. “These real names are ridiculous. I can’t remember them. In my files, you are, and always will be, Hedgehog. Or Hedge if I feel lazy.”

Hedgehog laid her hand on Giselle’s leg. “And you will always be Swift Fox, Giselle. Fox fits you so much better, anyway. I associate Giselle with a pretty princess, while Swift Fox fits you well.”

Giselle’s lips curled. Honeybee and Lionfish shared the name Amber, but they had not known they shared a name for almost two months. Over the weeks, she had grown fond of the stupid animal names.

“What time is your flight?” Hedgehog queried.

“I am being picked up by my parents. It’s only three hours.”

“Great. My flight back to Milwaukee is at three. I will leave just before lunch. It’s hard to imagine I will be having dinner with my parents and sister tonight. That feels like a completely different world.”

“And I have to go school in two days,” Giselle remarked. The two months at the Spy Camp had been surreal.

“One more week for me. Those classes will feel awfully boring and useless compared to the ones here.”

“I also cannot wrap my head around doing normal things again. It’s not like I miss my phone or missed out on anything important, but I’ll go back to doomscrolling. And music. I used to have my earbuds in 24/7,” Giselle continued. The camp barely had any music. Hearing the radio or Spotify was a rare treat. When they craved music, they had to play the piano in the basement. Eight had been awe-inspiring at it. Well, actually, she was sensational at anything while also being supportive, kind, and positive. Giselle missed her as she left two weeks prior for reshoots of the final season of the fantasy sitcom series, where she had a lead role. “Oh, yeah, the bondage. Maybe I’ll never be tied up again. And all the dozens of times I was tied up occurred in two months.” It was like when she realized during her final elementary school day that she would never return to that building.

“Same. I was so excited. I probably will buy some ropes and tie myself up. Though, that’s not the same as what’s happening here. Life will be boring. No bondage. No adrenaline. No stupid missions. I would even miss you outsmarting me.”

“I will miss you too, Hedge.”

“I’m not gone yet! And the camp is not over. Follow me.”

“Really?” Giselle replied. Her lips curled. The little gymnast Hedgehog was one of the few campers who could not tie an unwilling Giselle up alone.

“Yeah, for old time’s sake. You were cross with me for two weeks when I did not instantly release you from that hogtie on day two. Better be nice now. I don’t want to part on bad terms.”

Giselle laughed. She had perhaps been a bit harsh about the tie-ups. They passed the three tents on the roof (Washington had let them choose where to spend the last night). In Giselle’s, Honeybee was tied in a sleeping bag, and in Hedgehog’s tent, Leafwing was stuck. She was unsure whether Cottontail, Lionfish, or both were tied up. Hedgehog took a linen bag full of bondage gear from her tent before they walked to one of the factory’s thin red chimneys, maybe ten feet high and two-ish feet in diameter.

“Give it a big hug, Fox.”

Giselle complied and spread her arms and legs around the red bricks. She turned her head to the rising sun and the three tents. Behind her, the unmistakable screechy sound of tape rose the hairs on her bare arms. Her instincts still told her being free to move was better than being tied up. Hedgehog covered her legs with the bright-red sticky strips until she reached the bottom of the short black pajama pants. Her wrists followed, and her friend continued until she reached her armpits.

“Can our little Lara Croft escape this?”

“Maybe. You never know.”

Giselle had gained the reputation of always trying to escape, and after Red Deer had taught her how to lockpick swiftly, Giselle had improved rapidly. Her other reputation was that she always held her cards close to her chest and only shared her plans and ideas when it was strictly required.

“Yeah, that needs more tape.” Hedgehog rolled six layers of saran wrap over Giselle’s back, pressing her against the cool bricks. Now, Giselle could hang back comfortably. “Yeah. That’s better. Now you can’t weasel your way out anymore.”

“You sure?”

“100 percent. But let’s not jinx it.” More red tape was rolled from the roll and smacked on Giselle’s lips. The sound of thin chains made her chuckle. They were unnecessary. She was stuck, save for drooling the tape gag away. Winning the mind games was a small mental victory.

But Giselle’s joy did not last. Hedgehog had picked short cuffs and connected one to each of Giselle’s four limbs. The gymnast hid behind the other side of the chimney and slid her ankles and wrists into the other ends of the four cuffs. The locks clicked close, and now the two girls were forced to each other around the chimney.

“You know, Fox. This is also my last chance to get tied up.”

Giselle chuckled. In hindsight, it had been predictable, just as her ‘accidentally’ dropping the keys. Spy Camp was a weird place. At least the sunrise was beautiful.



It took slightly more than an hour for Lionfish to free them. One last time, they rode the black minivan to the office building, where they had breakfast. The cook, ms. Eliot had put in a lot of effort. Double portions of scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh orange juice. Everyone was charging their phones, checking in for their flights, and exchanging social media. Ibex and Red Deer were smooching in a corner, and Cottontail was crying on the phone with her boyfriend.

The morning passed quickly. Goodbyes were exchanged frequently, and Giselle was not the only one whose eyes were no longer dry. The two months had passed rapidly.

After lunch, she tensed up. Through the window, she spotted a familiar gray Range Rover. Dressed as if she was attending another board meeting, her mom stepped out. Her boring gray dress, black jacket, and heels contrasted with Giselle’s pink woolen crop top and ultra-short jeans.

“Giselle! Comment ça va?” Giselle’s mom announced after exchanging pleasantries with Washington.

“I’m good, thanks,” Giselle responded in English. Giselle concluded her mom had already rudely decided Leafwing’s opinion of her did not matter. Others had received hugs and smiles from their parents. Giselle had been less lucky.

“Grab your bags. We should go.”

Giselle received a sympathetic look from Leafwing before she left the building forever. Her mom had no intention of staying any longer than necessary.

“That camp leader told me you impressed him. You apparently worked hard.”

“That’s possible.”

“So you have finally seen the light?”

“What do you mean?”

“In life, you need to work for success and cannot live forever on other people’s effort.”

“Are you already lecturing me?”

“I’m just making observations. That is not a lecture.”

Giselle sniffed.

“Nicolas is home this weekend. He just finished his internship and got a glowing final report. Parks and Schleicher is one of the top consulting companies in the country. His future is bright if he can achieve such things after his sophomore year. Thalia, his new girlfriend, is also home. You have not met her, have you? She’s so smart and well put together. Her summer internship was at the US Congress. Can you believe it? The US Congress. And she got that internship due to her perfect GPA and a recommendation letter from three professors. If you work for it, the sky is the limit. But she is also a lovely person. They are a lovely couple, and I think you can learn a lot from her.”

As her mother continued handing out back-handed insults, Giselle plotted her escape when she got home. Sadly, they were stuck together in the aluminum prison for the next three hours. Strappados and hogties were not that bad in hindsight.

[Ovi1]

Wow, I had not realised that they still had 5 more weeks of camp to go. Great job wrapping things up.
Giselles mom acting like this feels like a sour ending for Giselle.

[Caesar73]

A reflective Chapter. Giselle is a bit melancholic. When she met her Mother, the reader knows why, this short Part of her Conversation is so revealing:

“In life, you need to work for success and cannot live forever on other people’s effort.”

“Are you already lecturing me?”

“I’m just making observations. That is not a lecture.”

I guess, some of us know this Communication Strategy. This is condescending so much. Of Course Giselle´s Mother is lecturing her wayward daughter. And they both know it. Hopefully Giselle can put to good use what she learned in Camp.

[Beaumains]

Wow, I had not realised that they still had 5 more weeks of camp to go. Great job wrapping things up.
Giselles mom acting like this feels like a sour ending for Giselle.

Yeah, this indeed maybe too sore for an ending. I will write a happier epilogue.

[Beaumains]

Epilogue:

Giselle left a 20-dollar cash tip before the Uber drove off. She wheeled her suitcase to the white gate between the thick 18-foot-high hedges even Giselle would not crawl through. She was stranded after a solo journey across the country to Bel-Air in the Los Angeles Hills. Fearing she was waiting at a totally incorrect place, she stared into the doorbell’s camera and took a deep breath.

“Hi, I am Giselle Sombreuil. Vespina invited me.”

“Giselle! Good afternoon! Come in! We were expecting you,” a friendly voice welcomed. It was neither Vespina, Eight’s real name, nor her mother. She had to be an employee.

The mansion was gorgeous, styled like a Mediterranean villa with white walls and a red roof. Palm trees, perfectly green grass, and a collection of expensive cars led her to the front door. The staff member took care of Giselle’s suitcase while she touched up her hair and make-up. In her native northern Appalachia, it was far colder on the 30th of December.

Giselle calmed herself down before trodding through the living room to the backyard. Two chefs were taking care of a truckload of briskets and salmon on the barbecues, and a man with two full-sleeve tattoos was mixing cocktails. Giselle had been warned there would be a few other people but had not anticipated an entire party. The men wore nice shirts and shorts that all fitted perfectly and matched their pristine shoes and designer shades. The women were dressed casually, but all their clothes had effortless style and elegance. Wearing a light-blue skirt and white button-up shirt bought for the occasion, Giselle felt underdressed. They were nice but came from her local mall and were no designer clothes.

“Giselle!” a man exclaimed a few yards further as he broke his conversation with an older, fat guy in a Hawaiian shirt. “I’m so glad you’re here. We are delighted to host you for our New Year’s Eve party tomorrow. Vespina can’t wait.”

The man with his shiny honey-brown hair, green eyes, and undeniable charisma had to be Eight’s father. Even in his mid-forties, he looked better than any guy in Giselle’s hometown.

“Hi, the pleasure is mine, Mr. Procter,” Giselle stumbled. Even before her research for this trip, she would have recognized him. He had achieved fame with romantic comedies, was known for action and superhero movies, and was lauded for his dramatic performances. He had won three Emmys, two Golden Globes, and an Oscar. He had been Sexiest Man Of The Year twice and was known as one of Hollywood’s golden boys. Giselle blushed. After watching two of his movies during the flight, it was odd to see America’s Brightest Smile in real life.

Micheal, this is Giselle, or Gigi for short,” Eight’s father told the fat man in the Hawaiian shirt. She knew her name. “She’s famous on YouTube and part of the viral group WeWereThere.”

“Nice to meet you,” the man sniffed. He had to be a movie director or producer, but Giselle could not link the face and first name to anyone. He was clearly unaware or not interested in the YouTube group.

After exchanging further pleasantries, Giselle could move on. She spotted younger people in swimming gear near the pool. Knowing precisely one person at a party was not her ideal social situation.

“Hey,” she greeted before sitting on the grass at the far edge of the circle. She had considered cracking a joke to break the ice but had backed out.

There were a dozen people already, evenly split between boys and girls. All boys could easily be on the cover of Teen Vogue. Their hair, arms, and six-packs were picture-perfect. Their smiles and eyes conveyed sexy, safe, calm, and kind to downplay their impressive physiques. She recognized two faces from a record-breaking boyband and contemplated asking for a photo, mostly to annoy her classmates. That was one way to ruin the mood. The girls looked equally impossibly impeccable, like a Hollywood version of a sorority. Stylish bikinis, designer sunglasses, and elegant bikini cover-ups were combined with the air of belonging. There were no visible nerves or unsure behavior. These people were used to such parties and such environments. And now, all stared at her.

Eight saved her, as always. They had not seen each other since Spy Camp. From September until just before Christmas, she had been in Romania filming.

“Hey, Giselle! Amazing you’re here. How was the journey?”

“Good, great,” Giselle stumbled. Was she supposed to introduce herself? Exhaustion and the many impressions had broken her social instincts. Seeing Eight again in her native luxurious lifestyle while looking like every teenage girl’s role model shattered her further. Eight’s skin was still drying from her last dive in the cool water, a cocktail glass balanced between her fingers, and her classy burgundy bikini seemed tailor-made. She probably got paid to wear it. Compared to the shabby office building hosting the Spy Camp, only the twinkle in her eyes had not changed.

“If you don’t know her, meet Giselle! She’s a good friend I met over the summer and is known as Gigi from WeWereThere.”

Giselle felt a warm feeling in her stomach. She was a good friend and thus more than just a friend.

“WeWereThere? Don’t you do Urban Exploring?” a guy asked with black curly hair. Giselle recalled that at least two classmates had posters of the actor in their bedrooms.

Giselle nodded. “Urban exploring mixed with games and challenges. The algorithm likes it when the video has an artificial goal, even if the stakes don’t matter. Documenting crappy buildings themselves is not exciting enough for most videos. You have to hook your viewers. But, yeah, it’s mostly trying to get to old places that hopefully very few people have seen before.”

“Cool. You guys are quite big, right?”

“I think like 25 million subs at the moment. It’s enormous but still far from those children’s channels.”

A girl with high cheekbones and sharp hazel, almost yellow eyes clenched against her muscular boyfriend on a pool chair. Was she a model? Or a singer? Or both? “I watched a lot when I was younger. I guess you were that fearless tiny girl who always found the coolest stuff first? Also, didn’t you disappear and reappear a few months back?”

Giselle smirked. “Yeah. That’s quite an accurate summary.”

“We saw your come-back,” her heart-throb boyfriend said. “That was wild. Very cinematic. It’s awesome to meet the person behind the mask.”

Giselle smirked. It had been the channel’s top video of the year, gaining tens of millions of views. Only Antoinette knew about Giselle’s involvement, surprising the others with the true video they were shooting in the abandoned middle school filled with graffiti and mold. From a routine, almost dull video involving school-themed games, it would turn into horror. Giselle had hidden Bluetooth speakers, written sketchy messages on blackboards, and walked around making animal noises. There were hidden cameras, and she filmed the others from a distance, creating an uncanny vibe as she slowly started to speak and show her hair and voice. The edit had been excellent. The tension built into a climax and a pay-off for the viewers.

“It was great,” Eight spoke, even though she had told Giselle many times already.

Giselle blushed. She was proud of the videos, but they were no Hollywood productions. Eight had said many of her friends had watched her videos. But it was still unbelievable she was part of a pop culture phenomenon. She got paid per video. Combined with her 50% profit share of the “Gigi-is-back” merch drop, she had earned enough to fund a college degree. Still, she remained anonymous and wore a mask in the videos.

“I loved the Japan videos. Shame you were not in them,” the boy sharing the pool chair remarked. “Are you planning to be in more? You bring the chaos factor.”

“I’ll do maybe one in four videos. I gotta go to school still. For the others, it is a full-time job, and I can’t simply travel to Japan or South Africa for a week,” Giselle replied, regretting her words instantly. These stars were home-schooled to fit their work schedule. “It’s more of a hobby.”

A few girls looked up from their phones but were not trying to judge Giselle on whether she was worth attending the party. Giselle would not make any friends that day but also no enemies. These teens had known each other for years and were among the few with a similar lifestyle. They were here to relax and unwind in a camera-free environment. They would tolerate the mysterious YouTube girl while she did not bother them.



“Join me, Fox,” Eight invited. In her long white night dress and without make-up, she looked like the oddball Spider Octopus from Spy Camp and not a successful child star. “My bed’s large enough. Let’s make it cozy. You’re only here for a few days.”

Giselle laughed. It was more fun than the guest bed in the same bedroom. She was exhausted after traveling and talking all day but had not blundered. She had abstained from alcohol to make a better impression and did not mess up any names of celebrities. Around midnight, she wanted to sleep but finally could speak to Eight privately. Wearing her pink pajamas, she crawled next to Eight, detecting her subtle cologne.

“I missed you,” Eight said as she turned off the lights and set the room to a comfortable temperature.

“I missed you too,” Giselle spoke in the utter darkness.

“It’s like the nights in your commander’s room. Or in those tents. It feels utopian.”

“The camp was great. Real life is far too boring.”

Eight smirked. Her days were more interesting than most. Usually, she got up at 5 in the morning and worked until late in the afternoon before prepping the next day’s scenes. But if she desired otherwise, many were queuing up to take her place. She was competing directly with many of the girls at the party for the honor of being the industry’s sweetheart. Or well, competing. A lot of politics and luck was involved.

The two girls held hands as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Eight exclaimed, but nobody answered.

The door opened, and a man with a flashlight entered. He walked to the bed, yanked the blanket away, and jumped on the bed. He jumped on the bed and pinned Eight down. He grabbed her wrists and began winding a rope around them.

The man had not covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming, but that was unnecessary. She was giggling. After tying her legs together, he bent down over Giselle. “May I tie thou up?” he whispered.

“Please,” Giselle replied. It was Eight’s dad. She could not imagine her own parents doing this.

The man went to work. He tied her wrists in front of her and forced her ankles together. He used some scarves, which were hard to untie but quite comfortable. He then rolled the duo into a soft, fine-mazed hay net. He closed it by sewing the two ends with a rope and threw the blanket over the girls, covering them.

“Thanks, Dad,” Eight whispered joyfully.

“Sleep well,” the actor answered before leaving Eight’s bedroom.

Both girls lay stretched out while surrounded by the net, like sardines in a tin. Giselle recalled that Eight’s parents had found her tying herself up in her room at age 12 and had supported her hobby in exchange for only allowing them to tie her up. That was both for her safety and reputation. They had sent her to Spy Camp for a reason.

“Now it is like Spy Camp,” Giselle sighed.

“Yeah, together, all tied up.”

“We could escape, you know.”

“But why would we? Isn’t this much better?” Eight asked, moving even closer to Giselle.

“It feels good.”

Then something happened she had never expected. The actress, the world-famous Vespina Procter, turned her head.

First, their noses touched.

Then, their lips connected.

Then they opened their mouths and kissed.

[GreyLord]

Wonderful connection for Eight and Fox.

[Ovi1]

A true epilogue, I half expected no tying this time.
Very well written! Congratulations on finishing this story and giving Giselle a final send-off.

[Beaumains]

I half expected no tying this time.

For me it is almost a writing challenge to try to get someone tied up in each part. I like to come up with these situations and then try to see how I can naturally add bondage with these characters in this specific scenario. Having Eight and Fox tied up together made the most sense.

[slackywacky]

This turned out to be a great story. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you for sharing it with us.

For me it is almost a writing challenge to try to get someone tied up in each part.

I know the feeling, coming up with something that fits the story, fits the characters, can be a challenge. It is so easy to write a chapter and use something you just used in the previous chapter. Even more when you have multiple stories going on.

Looking forward to what will be next, a new bound to be dared chapter or something new...

[Caesar73]

This Epilogue? It is simply wonderful. You catch the Atmosphere so well. Giselle arriving at Bel Air - which must have been like a Trip around the Globe for her. It is easy to imagine that Giselle feels inscure at first. Who wouldn´t? She knows no one. The Environment is not her usual one.

To me it is the perfect close of this fantastic Tale @Beaumains

[Beaumains]

This turned out to be a great story. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Thank you very much!

I know the feeling, coming up with something that fits the story, fits the characters, can be a challenge. It is so easy to write a chapter and use something you just used in the previous chapter. Even more when you have multiple stories going on.

Yeah, it is so easy to just write "hogtie" or "spreadeagle" when you have no inspiration, while when you have ideas, it can be very difficult to write them as the technical description of a tie can easily be incomprehensible. It is always a balance (but I am getting lazier over time).

Looking forward to what will be next, a new bound to be dared chapter or something new...

I am quite busy in real life, so I doubt it is a good idea to start a new 50-part epic without a clear end-goal. I will continue with some chapters ofBound to be Dared and write some experimental/weird one-shot or a 5-10 part story with a clear arc.

which must have been like a Trip around the Globe for her.

It is just a trip in the US, which will be one of the first Giselle does alone, but should not give her too much trouble (except being exhausting).

To me it is the perfect close of this fantastic Tale @Beaumains

Thank you very much!