One Last Rope
Saturday, June 12, 2021
There were 3 cousins born in 1996, all named Joy, and I was the oldest of all. The night before I tied the knot, there was a special gathering of only ladies close to me in a special way, ones who had made an immeasurable impact upon my life. I invited my cousins Joy, Joy, and Brooke, my sister Zoe, my childhood friend Nichole, my college friends Bridget, Joyce, and Charlotte, and a few post-college friends, Erin, Liz, and Leah. My friend Hannah was asked to come just before the party, and she made it a lucky 13 to celebrate a bachelorette in Cool Girl style.
“Sue, get on with it.” my rambunctious cousin Joy Alexandra pushed me to get the party started.
“Look, Alex; you behave like Sam or get put in time out!” I dominated the room.
“Oh, she's so scary,” Brooke taunted me with a bit of wit and sarcasm.
“I only know one Joy at all,” one friend shrugged, “The pet names are so confusing now!”
Three Joy’s: Joy Suzanne Fredericks, Joy Samantha Gustavsson, and Joy Alexandra Fredericks; I loved the little jokes we shared from sharing a birth year and a name. We flawlessly used middle names in place of Joy: Suzanne/Sue, Samantha/Sam, and Alexandra/Alex. It was such fun!
The surprises continued when my friend Maya joined the party uninvited. To explain, my sister Zoe had found a TUG pseudo-sorority at our college, and Charlotte was my “Big” and Maya was my “Little.” As a result, Maya knew she could just barge into the room and get away with it. She was a charming young girl with an adventurous taste in TUGs, but it’s a PG-13 tale.
“OK, OK. Since there are 14 of us… here’s the deal. I will pick one person,” I said with a smile on my face, “To be my captive. She will then pick two people; one will be a cuddler captor, and the other will be a cuddled captive. That captive will pick two people; so forth. Understood. It ensures I don’t get tied up. We will all pick. Even more, the person who does the picking of the duet will decide how the captive will be bound and gagged. Does this sound good to everyone?”
You aren’t slightly surprised that I picked Samantha to be my captive or that Samantha selected Alexandra to be the captive of my older sister. That was however the end of the expected rites of passage in this room. Of course I wanted to truss my cousin, especially since I’d already made a promise to some of the other girls present and either personally dominated them in the preceding days or had lived with them at stages of life and thus dominated them frequently. My cousin and I had a different dynamic. Actually, all of us cousins had a different dynamic.
It was our moms who first played TUGs: Susan and Melissa Henderson and Darlene Rasmussen, Susan and Melissa’s first cousin. They’d played from when they were single-digit years old. My mom (Susan) and Aunt Melissa married brothers from a prudish background who saw TUGs as a sex game alone. If they wanted to play, it was going to be in the bedroom in vanilla procreative bondage sex, and they were not to teach their children to play. This was how it was until 2018.
Aunt Melissa rebelled against it and won, being allowed to play TUGs with the girls when they agreed the girls were old enough to play responsibly (around 10-12 years old each, it turned out) with each getting a rite of passage into the Henderson ways. It was a fun time for them as each of the girls got secretly taken aside and taught the ways of TUGs. As it really turned out, except for the occasional humiliation exposure, nothing TV-MA ever happened among Mom and Aunt Melissa, or their cousin all those years. Aunt Melissa won her war, and the only rule was that all TUGs had to occur in the basement if he were home. Very simple. He trusted them explicitly. It was forbidden to play with anyone else, though, until about 2010 or so, when he permitted them to play with Darlene and her children. Such was life, as you will soon understand.
Darlene had no such issues with her husband. It was open season in their home, and my second cousins Samantha and her older sister Melody were even often held by their brothers so that their mother could tie them and gag them! The only reason Melody wasn’t here was because she was pregnant with her sixth child already, but she is also 7 years my senior and was 32 at this time. It was expected that we’d send pictures to her, though, so she could laugh with us.
Mom, however, married the strictest of all, and she was no longer even allowed to play with her own sisters until she just started visiting them for TUGs, like it or not. We were outright banned from the Henderson tradition of TUGs, and it was only my introduction to the CGC courtesy two of the girls present, Nichole and Hannah, that Zoe and I discovered TUGs and that Zoe founded a college TUG sorority called Tau Iota Epsilon (Get it?). I was extremely jealous and a bit upset when I realized the scope of what we’d missed because of my father, and it really flipped things on his head when I told him that bondage sex repulsed me and that his assumptions had robbed me, Mom, and Zoe of many years of priceless interactions with our relations. It was only after I had graduated college that Mom decided that Zoe and I were independent enough and just told us outright so that we could salvage what few opportunities still remained open to us.
So, I had Samantha, and Alexandra had Zoe. Now, Zoe got to pick from Brooke, Bridget, Joyce, Nichole, Charlotte, Erin, Liz, Leah, Hannah, and Maya. She had connections to almost all of the remaining girls, too, through blood, the CGC, or Tau Iota Epsilon. This was quite the lineup for a seemingly difficult choice, but Zoe quickly decided to go for mixing things up.
“I choose Brooke as the captor of Leah Ralston,” Zoe said to a bunch of raised eyebrows, “I can see a world in which the two of you are friends, and I’m planting the seeds for that right now.”
I wish I had appreciated what happened that night more; taken time to savor everything.
Brooke and Leah hit it off in their own little way. Zoe was right, but it was the seed that was just planted even if it took time to grow and bloom into something beautiful. Leah stood up and died of embarrassment in that way only Gangsta Twins could, and she looked around the room with a sheepish grin upon her face while trying to decide something that could be fun for everyone here. She was overthinking things in an attempt to be original.
“Nichole ties up Charlotte,” she blurted out and then turned beet red as if she'd insulted someone.
“Yes,” Charlotte, a pure submissive, pumped her fist in triumph at her good fortune.
The friendship for Leah was a good thing. In short, Leah’s friends tended to be Liz’s friends, but Liz had more meaningful friendships with more people. It was good for Leah to have a friend be primarily her own friend rather than shared or primarily Liz’s. Leah needed this because she can be so shy to her own detriment, which is funny because she doesn’t show such characteristics if Liz is with her. There is so much more to say, but I’ll end with this: Zoe did a good thing.
“I’ll have Maya tie up Erin,” Charlotte said without a thought, “Maya brought toys with her.”
“Oh!” someone chirped, “Give Erin a taste of something new!”
That gave us… Joy Suzanne (me!) and Joy Samantha; Joy Alexandra and Zoe; Brooke and Leah; Nichole and Charlotte; Maya and Erin. This left Bridget, Joyce, Liz, and Hannah to be chosen. I was proud of the choices Samantha, Zoe, Leah, and Charlotte had made so far!
I might have been the shortest, heaviest, and oldest of the Fredericks girls, but I was the strongest of them all due. Some liked to say that I was almost a matronly headmistress in my ability to be in charge of a situation. Perhaps that’s why I effortlessly sat holding Samantha hand gagged and in my grasp. If only I appreciated just how precious these moments would be. A transformation was taking place in my life, and I treated it like any other night with the girls, whether cousins, a CGC get together, or a kinky game night with the TIE girls.
“I’ll pair up Liz as Bridget’s captor,” Erin brought the two former rowing teammates together.
“Oh, well thank you!” Liz effortlessly jumped to the task, “Then Joyce ties up Hannah!”
“Well that’s everyone!” I clasped my hands together, “Liz, how will Hannah, ahem, suffer?”
“That’s easy!” the more bubbly of the twins grinned, “Zipties! She’s scary strong!”
“Well, thank you,” Hannah smiled, “I’m glad to see my strength acknowledged and appreciated.”
How little we knew there and then that Hannah was three weeks pregnant out of wedlock with a child whose father was none other than Liz and Leah’s older brother. That added a fun twist to a fun relationship between Hannah and the Twins, who unsurprisingly forgave Hannah given what was a difficult life, their brother being the first man Hannah trusted like that in several long years. Another of my friends was due any day and actually gave birth two weeks after this, but she wasn’t at this little gathering. Still, we all had our things, and it was heartwarming to see an increasingly large family, whether CGC, TIE, or just my own flesh and blood! I could never be a warrior like my cousin Melody though. Maybe this was pregnancy #6 then, but she wants 10! It isn’t relevant, but I’m now (in 2025) expecting my second and scared because I nearly died from my first. I love being a mother myself, but it truly frightens me at moments.
“Gmmmmmmm!” my cousin struggled in my arms, and I kissed her on the cheek and let her go.
“There you go, Sam; enjoy barking out the orders for Zoe to tie up Alexandra,” I giggled with no knowledge of how much I should have cherished that hand gag, “Let’s start being bossy now!”
So we went down the line. We let it slide that Liz stole Bridget’s thunder since Bridget was the one who was supposed to decide if Joyce or Hannah got tied. Still, Bridget ordered enough zips be used on Hannah that the blonde warrior became 92% plastic by the time she was completely tied up, and some cretin (did I just call sweet little Brooke a cretin?) offered her socks to be used to gag Hannah. Socks and seven wraps of duct tape made a delicious gag that would have made me or Alexandra puke; Sam, Zoe, my mother, Aunt Melissa can handle dirty sock gags but don’t favor them; Brooke and Aunt (yes, I address my mother’s cousin as Aunt) Darlene love the gags. That’s a third or fourth diversion from the story, now, and I have no regrets about that either!
“Mmmmmmm!” Hannah groaned as the first captive of the evening.
“Well, well, well, she is a cutie,” Samantha squeezed Hannah’s cheek, “Hannah Bandana.”
“Hey, now!” Joyce playfully pushed Sam aside with a nod, “She’s my cuddle buddy, not yours!”
Time for another aside. Joyce truly suffered. In June 2016, her dad died; in November that year, her then-boyfriend engaged in criminal sexual acts when she tried to end their relationship; then, in January 2017, her mother died in a car accident. As if this wasn’t enough, in 2019 she married a seemingly sweet young man, and they suffered six miscarriages in 3 years; in August 2022, she caught her husband with another woman; in December 2022, the church annulled her marriage.
Bridget got off easy, in a way, with a straitjacket being used on her body and ropes being used to tie her ankles, knees, and thighs, and one of Liz’s numerous ball gags, a red 1.75 inch one just to be specific, being used to shut her up. It was simple and delightful for a girl who had been quite a delight to me and the twins. When I first moved to Madison in June 2018, Bridget was roomie number three to me and Zoe. Bridget was a native, and my husband is her big brother and Erin’s little brother. Yes, there’s a mystique to all of these, especially as I was the one who was Bridget and Joyce’s first college roommate and the Cool Girl who first earned a place in Bridget’s heart.
“Ha ha!” Bridget laughed and hopped around, but Hannah was hog-zipped on the floor instead.
“I’m glad you like it,” Erin smiled, “I know my little sister likes straitjackets and ball gags!”
Bridget won’t tell a soul this; she’s less fortunate on the maternity front. She and her husband do their best, but she can’t even get pregnant. She acts like she’s a career woman, and I know that it is mostly true. They do want their own, though, but only her husband has told me in private. It’s a hard thing, and she secretly knows the pain Joyce felt. This night, though, Joyce, despite those numerous losses, could only smile because she was so happy to be here for me.
“Hmmm,” Charlotte sized up Erin Sjaastad, “This one is difficult. I’m thinking an armbinder.”
Now, Erin was a girl who looked to me in her own time of stress. She had an alcohol addiction just like the addiction that killed the woman who should have been my mother-in-law, which was a great source of grief for the Sjaastad siblings. She moved back home and revitalized her life to become my coworker! She dressed like me then and still does: bandanas as a prayer covering, a skirt, and an unassuming humility. Doesn’t change that she loves TUGs. Still, a bandana worn as a kerchief and an ankle skirt are a little odd for a girl who had her arms in an armbinder with a TIE original—an orange 2 inch rubber dog ball threaded with a red bandana—as her gag.
“Suzanne, quit gagging Sam!” Brooke teasingly grabbed my arms and pulled them off.
“Ha!” Samantha broke free from my grasp, “I love it. It’s our last chance before she’s a wife!”
“Well, that’s true!” I said to Sam, wishing I’d known then what I know now, “It’s a reflex!”
“Surrrre!” Brooke wagged a finger at me, “That’s what Alexandra says when grabbing Erika!”
“Gmmmmm!” Erin’s groan while Maya tied her up was funny with the way she rolled her eyes.
“Mind your manners,” Maya said, using black leather straps to tie Erin’s legs over her skirt.
“That’s good!” Charlotte nodded, appreciating what was unfolding at her command.
Then it was Charlotte getting tied up by Nichole at Leah’s command. Then it was Leah getting it from Brooke at Zoe’s command. Both were basic boxties, but they were still fun. They just had nothing remarkable about the moment, not even for Brooke and Leah despite the kindness of the pairing Zoe had made. As I said before, this was the planting of seeds that weren’t appreciated at the time and only became apparent during and after the wedding and in the following days which devastated everyone who’d had any intimate role in the simple, humble, but joyous festivities.
Then came the grand moment which we all had anticipated: Samantha commanding Alexandra in tying up my beloved big sister. Now I guess outfits matter now because we’re down to those three girls who mean the most to me in my life, no offense intended to my many friends whom I love and cherish. But the three Joy Circle of 1996 was the joy of my position in life, and I cannot help but place Zoe on a pedestal of worship. She saved my life… twice! Once, she was there when I needed an intervention because I was one of the sluttiest girls in the college, both with men and women alike, and she got me to control myself on that front. Then, sex wound up replaced with alcohol (despite me being underage), and she coached me out of that one too!
Zoe stood so cutely in her earthen tones. Brown leggings and a brown knee skirt with a beige turtleneck t-shirt and a beige bandana headband were her nods to the CGC and her own style. A brown scrunchie held her hair in a ponytail that started at the back of her head. She had this mix of retro and cute that was delightful. That’s not why Sam chose a strappado for her though; with glee, Alexandra obeyed Sam’s every command and tied up my big sister.
“Damn, that’s tight,” Zoe groaned because of the way the strappado ran from her wrists, up to the ceiling, and down to her neck, “I liked when the TIE girls did this to me too as their founder.”
That was because Zoe had wrists and elbows tied together behind her back with clothesline rope Sam had set aside to make sure it was used on Zoe alone. The elbow rope also had the classic loops through the armpits and around the neck that are sometimes used in such positions so that a harness-like effect is created without an actual chest harness. On top of this, Zoe’s legs were tied together at the ankles, knees, and lower thighs. At this point, Alexandra was tying her shins, too, while Zoe hopped in place to test her captivity that simply used a plant hook.
“One more rope,” Samantha teased… just… one… more… rope, “Below her waist, Alex.”
Then my sister was silenced by the kind of gag she and TIE invented, the rubber ball just like in Erin’s gag. Zoe got a 2 inch bright blue ball with a purple bandana, though, and a pink bandana blindfolded her, giving her three knots behind her head. Zoe was done, and now it was time for my time in power to come to an end. Aha, but there was one more moment before this.
“Ha ha! Look at my knuckles,” Samantha pointed to the redness, “Clenching my fists,” she shook her wrists to relieve the pain… but it was rheumatoid arthritis she didn’t know she had.
“Go to a doctor; get it checked out,” I asked her, but she laughed it off and shrugged.
“Maybe she’s right,” Alexandra took my side in the matter, but Samantha shook her head.
“Sam, I’m scared of doctors too,” Liz shook her head, “But you should still go just in case.”
“All right, even strangers are saying I should, so I should finally go after 3 years of this.”
“Sam, 3 years?!” Brooke and I were aghast, “That’s 100% not normal.”
Maybe if she’d gone sooner? I don’t know and refuse to speculate and hurt myself more.
“Excuse us, ladies, but we’re taking over!” the voice of Aunt Melissa shattered the room.
“Face the wall, three Joy’s, and you others aren’t of concern,” Aunt Darlene added.
There stood my mother, my mother’s sister, and my mother’s cousin Darlene. They all had their arms crossed like they were breaking the underage drinking party, but they smiled like it was the sleepover that had gotten too loud. Without a complaint, all three of us Joy’s faced the wall with a stifled giggle coming from Alexandra. I guess it matters what we three Joy’s wore, huh?
They frisked us like criminals. I was dressed like the Joy that had inspired Erin to reform her life with my favorite blue ankle skirt, brown leather sandals, a pink t-shirt, and a blue bandana worn as a kerchief for my head covering, my reminder to pray. Alexandra, the rebel Joy in TUGs and games, had blue jeans with chains hanging out her leg pocket, black canvas sneakers, and a black t-shirt; black fingerless gloves and the aforementioned chain were her version of a gangsta touch. Finally, Sam had a green knee skirt, brown flats, and a flowery pink blouse, girly but chic, as she liked it. She was always trendy but reserved and modest in her style.
Each Joy was taken by her mother like a criminal to be shot at sunrise, and we all had our wrists crossed and tied behind our backs. It was such a fun twist on a fun night that we’d never forget for as long as we lived. Sam giggled the loudest, but that’s because her mother frisked her in a very invasive manner. The harnesses and the waist ropes were strong and effective, but as I had made such desires very clear everything was kept to my PG-13 request.
“Mom!” Samantha said with a giggle, “I thought you’d changed your mind about this idea?”
“I changed it again. What’s that to you, my sweet?” Aunt Darlene said like only a mom can.
“Melody is texting something about promised pictures?” Aunt Melissa asked, “Brooke, on it!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Brooke didn’t dare question her mother for even a second. Good girl.
Alexandra’s chains jingled a little while our legs were tied at the ankles, knees, lower thighs, and upper thighs. All three Joy’s received identical bonds, and we each had a pair of socks stuffed in our mouths and held in with a simple red bandana cleave gag. The only difference was that Sam had her mother’s socks in her mouth while Alex and I had clean socks. Completely gross; Alex and I would have puked and choked to death. I nearly did choke the one time I tried a dirty sock gag! I will never forget that and will cling to that memory as my excuse until I die! I know it seems strange for the girl who likes TV-MA TUGs to want a PG-13 bachelorette party.
We were laid out in a triangle on the floor, all on our stomachs. My neck was fastened to Alex’s ankles; Alex’s neck was fastened to Sam’s ankles; Sam’s neck was fastened to my ankles. It was a three-sided trap for three precious girls at the hands of their precious mothers. My mom had an incredible kind way of domination, unlike Aunt Darlene who shamelessly SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! spanked Sam into submission amid a flurry of gagged giggles and retching sounds. I will never forget this moment, and I’m glad that this moment is one I did choose to savor while it was happening in real time. Photographs were taken in a hurry by Brooke, who was certainly going to end up bound and gagged just like Zoe if she didn’t satisfy Melody in some impossibly short amount of time. In other words, it was rigged against Brooke and just a matter of time for when Aunt Melissa decided to teach her daughter a funny lesson in obedience. My mother was a stern taskmaster as well, sitting on me since I was the strongest while Aunt Darlene checked the ropes and Aunt Melissa menaced Brooke.
“Gmmmm mmmmmmm!” I groaned into the socks in my mouth for the entertainment of all.
“Mmmm mmmm mmmmm!” Sam followed in with her higher pitched voice.
“Grrrrrrrrrrr!” Alex added a guttural growl.
“Ugggggg!” Zoe squirmed in her strappado and drooled from the rubber dog ball gag..
“Guh uhhhhhh!” Erin drooled on her own rubber dog ball gag.
“Ummmmmmm!” Bridget struggled in the straitjacket.
“Leh -e -o!” Leah wailed into a classic ball gag.
Poor Brooke had her arms sausage encased in gray duct tape, and then she was mummied from neck to toe, completely encased in the sticky gluey gray material. The poor thing had her own socks stuffed in her mouth as one of just family members (the other being Aunt Darlene) who actually liked dirty sock gags. Her face was wrapped in the tape 8 times, too. Aunt Melissa had clearly done this to her child on more than one occasion, and it was funny watching my mother and Aunt Darlene hold Brooke down while she was trapped like this.
The Joy Triangle, though, was where true happiness lay. We struggled; we giggled; we laughed at Brooke; we laughed at each other; we gag talked affectionately; we gag taunted. Watching all our Moms do this and turning to see Nichole filming it all brought everything full circle. Ah, my friend Nichole was precious to me; we literally gave our life’s blood for one another at points of our lives. When I was hit by a car and needed a blood donation, Nichole gave me blood because of our rare type; when she was hit by a car, I did the same for her. Yes, it's time for a tangent!
Nichole lived with my family at a time. Her father physically abused her and inappropriately touched, as did her brothers, and she would come to see my mom because my mother had spent many years as a counselor. One day, the secret came out, and Mom shooed me and told me that I should go bother Zoe. Zoe was on the phone, and I walked into the room to find Nichole bruised and battered: I knew. Mom got Nichole a secret cell phone to use for talking to me and others as her father and brothers would sometimes steal her regular phone. When Nichole finally reached her breaking point and left home for good in the summer between freshman and sophomore year of college, she moved in with us. She moved in with another friend after the summer.
“Oh, Sue, Missy’s at it again,” Darlene chuckled while talking to my mother.
Aunt Melissa was a human escalator, grabbing a green bandana to blindfold Zoe. I loved TUGs with my Fredericks cousins because of Aunt Melissa’s escalations, no offense to Mom’s cousin Darlene. Such was the closeness that Mom and Darlene were roommates all four years of their undergraduate studies at Iowa State and then took in Aunt Melissa when they were juniors and Auntie was a freshman. I cannot imagine the TUGs, but the best stories involved Aunt Melissa being bound and gagged and having her eyes taped open to watch horror movies.
“Now, there, my child,” Aunt Darlene sat on Samantha, “I’m glad you're having fun.”
I never realized until writing this that this moment would etch itself in Aunt Darlene’s mind the most of all of us. Mom sitting on me, spanking me; Mom’s little sister, Aunt Melissa, sitting on Joy Alexandra while making Brooke sniff dirty sneakers; Mom’s cousin, Aunt Darlene, sitting on Joy Samantha, spanking both her and Zoe. It had become an unforgettable Fredericks night but also one to which many precious friends of mine were witnesses. Aunt Melissa had tons of fun going around and doing things to captives after asking others for tips. Aunt Darlene spanked everyone except maybe Mom and herself. We would talk about this one ever after.
The next day was the wedding. Monday started my honeymoon. Tuesday was a great day for a newlywed couple. Wednesday brought heartbreak. Three Joy’s. Three thrones for their mothers to enjoy. Spanking and giggling and maternal affection and laughter. Photos were taken aplenty thanks to Nichole. We all had so much fun that Saturday night. Aunt Darlene never expected it to be her last time playing TUGs with her baby girl. That picture of Aunt Darlene, squeezing her bound and gagged daughter's cheeks, isn't one you publicly display because of the TUGs, but it's in a secret album of its own as the cover page. I open that album and cry every time.
“Joy, she's gone! She's gone!” I answered the phone when I saw it was Aunt Darlene’s number.
“Auntie? Auntie, what's wrong?!” and she proceeded to break my heart.
When we were all giggling and teasing each other, we cherished the time because we knew that a massive shift was happening in my life, one that would bring new commitments that I’d not had until then. We cherished it, but we failed to cherish the right thing. That night was all about me as the bride, but we never imagined that that night, for us 16 witnesses, would forever live in our minds because of that cute floral princess Joy Samantha Gustavsson.
Joy Samantha never woke up that Wednesday morning. Autopsies concluded that she had a case of undiagnosed rheumatoid arthritis and had died of a massive heart attack in her sleep. I fell to my knees in tears. My best friend forever was gone. I will never forget the last words Sam said to me: “Suzanne, I had so much fun last night; we'll never have another night like it.” Her words couldn't be truer. I didn’t know that I’d never see her face again.
“Joy lived up to her name,” Darlene said to me on the anniversary of Sam’s death, “Please, if you are able, can you and Alexandra… keep living up to it, for my and Carl’s sake? For Melody’s?”
“Yes. We loved Sam and can't replace her. But we can still shine the light of the three Joy’s.”
One last rope for Joy Samantha Gustavsson, cousin, daughter, sister, and best friend.
Part of me died the day Sam died. There were so many little things that we did together. Best of all was the tradition of “The Three Joy’s of Christmas.” Samanatha, Alexandra, and I would get together to bake all of the cookies for the Christmas party that encompassed my entire maternal family. We’d bake all day in the basement kitchen at Aunt Melissa’s home. Once summer 2018 happened, TUGs permeated the Christmas seasons of 2018, 2019, and 2020, as well, especially a lot of time in silence for Erika and Brooke, who’d inevitably start teasing or berating us to egg us into doing something. I was completely broken after losing Samantha, though.
At Christmas 2021, I couldn’t handle it anymore, and I spent that holiday season with my in-laws in Madison because I needed to escape the upside-down world. I found healing in spending time with my husband’s family, and I feel bad because I hurt Alexandra’s feelings by my decision as it turned out that she just as desperately needed to spend that holiday season with me. I began new traditions that year, instead, to honor Samantha: on odd years, Alexandra will come out to spend her Christmas with me, and on even years I go to spend Christmas with her.
Then there are bereaved Melody and Aunt Darlene. Melody’s next child was a boy, but God had a little mercy on her with baby number 7, whom Melody named Joy Samantha in honor of sweet, beloved, and deeply missed Joy Samantha. Aunt Darlene cherishes all of her “remaining” kids a lot more now, making sure that her love for each of her three sons and her living daughter can be felt by them because of her regrets of taking maternity for granted, never imagining that she’d be a grieving mother. There is a lot to be said about both Melody and Aunt Darlene.
I will never forget coming back for the funeral since it was such a traumatic time for everyone in my family. No TUGs occurred during the first days after we lost Sam, but four weeks later Aunt Darlene, Aunt Melissa, Erika, Alexandra, and Brooke surprised me by visiting me at home! I'd say that was the first time we found healing in that period, and it was the day that we all renewed our love for one another, all of us living (and available to travel) Henderson female relations. If you’ve read The Visitor, it was much less chaotic than that but just as loving. The spirit of the Three Joy’s lives on even if one is only with us in spirit, and we play TUGs in her memory. I just know that Aunt Darlene now binds, hugs, or kisses me and Sam at the same time.
I close with some brief notes that I have received from Melody and Aunt Darlene since then.
First, one from Melody:
Joy, thank you so much for spending your weekend with my mother. Since coming back to St. Paul, her mood has been much brighter. Losing my sister has taxed me and Mom so much, and it’s good to finally see her smiling again. As you can imagine, my brothers are lost without Joy. The pain will never go away, but Mom can face the world again. Call me on Facetime sometime soon. I want to see you again and talk without any of the chaos of the wedding or the funeral.
After Christmas 2022, we received a note from Aunt Darlene in the “Henderson Women’s Chat”:
To the Three Joy’s of Christmas, thank you for your spirit of cheer and love this Christmas. I was dead certain that Christmas would be another gnarled mess for me and Carl, but you made a day that we’ll all cherish. Maybe only two of you are physically present, but the third lives with us still through the two of you. I thank God we still have Joy in our lives even if my Joy is not here with us. You two are very loved, and thank you for tolerating me randomly kissing and hugging you both and crying on Sunday. Your mothers should be proud of you. Oh, hell, I know I am kidding no one. They are proud of you two for putting the Henderson clan upon your own shoulders and making sure my baby girl’s memory is never forgotten! Keep on rocking!
In June 2023, everyone received this note from Aunt Darlene in the same group chat:
I have a couple of cretins visiting me on Sam’s sad anniversary, and attached was a photo of me and Alex tightly bound and gagged, It’s such a shame that only Brooke has my appetite for dirty sock gags, but I pretended that I was using dirty socks instead of clean ones. When’s a visit from Brooke going to happen so I can experience that thrill? Zoe? Missy? Sam hated whenever I stuffed my socks in her mouth, but she could take it like a champ. Everyone give this comment some reactions so I can show the Joy’s how much satisfaction you’re taking in their captivity!
That year, on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I got this note from Melody:
What did you do, Suzanne?! Mom keeps cackling about the ‘most rancid dirty sock gag I ever received’ after your visit on Thanksgiving. I know you had my mom, your mom, and Melissa all lined up like ducks in a row. Mom is 55, but she still has the spirit of the 25 year old I remember as a toddler. I had fun helping you, and I’m sure Melissa’s basement will see many more TUGs in the years to come. P.S. Next time you come visit, would you tie me up, too? Thanks. Mel.
The loss of Sam also brought changes between me and Zoe. Zoe always loved me, but we knew it was dangerous to take loved ones for granted. It’s hard for us both. I nearly died having baby Beth in 2022, and Zoe struggles with fertility issues despite wanting to have at least one child. I get lots of opportunities to see Zoe because she lives 7 minutes away from me on foot, and she is a sucker for being dominated by me. Thankfully, I married into a family that played TUGs from a young age, and Zoe married a sweet Roman Catholic man who doesn’t care if she plays TUGs as long as he’s not around. It’s a good arrangement and one that’s led to strong bonds.
And on the wall in my living room is a picture of The Three Joy’s of Christmas. It was a candid shot taken while baking in Aunt Melissa’s basement. Flour’s on my nose; we’re giggling like a bunch of little girls; we have our coordinated outfits; and we’re happy. I can smile or cry when I look at the photo. No one knows we’re laughing at a bound and gagged Aunt Darlene.
Joy Samantha Gustavsson, gone but not forgotten.
