Website Migration Update
I moved the website to a new host, which I think will be more tolerant of the content this website hosts. Nevertheless, I do want to take a moment to remind everyone that the stories and content posted here MUST follow website rules, as it it not only my policy, but it is the policy of the hosts that permit our website to run on their servers. We WILL continue to enforce the rules, especially critical rules that, if broken, put this sites livelihood in jeapordy.
*CALLING FOR MORE PARTICIPATION*
JUST A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT TO REMIND EVERYONE (GUESTS AND REGISTERED USERS ALIKE) THAT THIS FORUM IS BUILT AROUND USER PARTICIPATION AND PUBLIC INTERACTIONS. IF YOU SEE A THREAD YOU LIKE, PARTICIPATE! IF YOU ENJOYED READING A STORY, POST A COMMENT TO LET THE AUTHOR KNOW! TAKING A FEW EXTRA SECONDS TO LET AN AUTHOR KNOW YOU ENJOYED HIS OR HER WORK IS THE BEST WAY TO ENSURE THAT MORE SIMILAR STORIES ARE POSTED. KEEPING THE COMMUNITY ALIVE IS A GROUP EFFORT. LET'S ALL MAKE AN EFFORT TO PARTICIPATE.
JUST A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT TO REMIND EVERYONE (GUESTS AND REGISTERED USERS ALIKE) THAT THIS FORUM IS BUILT AROUND USER PARTICIPATION AND PUBLIC INTERACTIONS. IF YOU SEE A THREAD YOU LIKE, PARTICIPATE! IF YOU ENJOYED READING A STORY, POST A COMMENT TO LET THE AUTHOR KNOW! TAKING A FEW EXTRA SECONDS TO LET AN AUTHOR KNOW YOU ENJOYED HIS OR HER WORK IS THE BEST WAY TO ENSURE THAT MORE SIMILAR STORIES ARE POSTED. KEEPING THE COMMUNITY ALIVE IS A GROUP EFFORT. LET'S ALL MAKE AN EFFORT TO PARTICIPATE.
Samantha: out of control (f+/f+) (VOTE STORY) *NEW 04/08 NEW*
A it is. Done and done 
so I'll get to writing.
(Which didn't take long
only a short(er then normal for this tale) chapter below, wanted you to have the 'how is Sammy bound' decision.)
so I'll get to writing.(Which didn't take long
only a short(er then normal for this tale) chapter below, wanted you to have the 'how is Sammy bound' decision.)006.
It's called suffering the consequences. All my- your -fault, could've walked away, left Lucinda as she, snapping at me, clearly wanted. But no.
Standing across from her, waiting. Lucinda looking all around as though the answer to her problem: me, apparently, not leaving her in peace makes me the, her problem.
And honestly I hadn't thought so. I can see the logic of binding me, having freed herself, binding me to prevent my binding her a second time. But I'd thought she wanted more, from and to and with me, that capturing me would be a first step.
No.
Shivering as I hear the whisper of decision, noting Lucinda's small nod, accompanied by a small smile.
Noticing even as she approaches me, standing my ground whilst Lucinda yanks, rough handling, not being polite and treating me in such a manner setting off another tingle in my- exposed feeling -chest. Yanking the scarf gag down around my neck.
And me, noticing. Frowning. Was there always this much rope laying around the immediate area?
"Sammy."
"Lucinda."
"Following me."
"Yes." Swallowing, tamping down on the urge to run and. "Sorry." It's a little too late, for apologies or for escape.
Lucinda shrugging, she knows it too, how this will play out. But I can't help the urges, wanting to act despite not being allowed. Urges translating as a brief wriggle, wrists rubbing together and trying to pull first left then right up, out of the tight bindings.
Failing, a nod from Lucinda at the fact, expecting nothing less and what would she of done, had things played out differently thus far?
"You're staying here, then."
"I." Shiver, not allowed to run. "Know."
"And I'm going to make sure you do." Glancing around, considering possibilities.
"Yes."
"Good." Pulling the gag back up and I make no move to stop her, resigned to my fate as Lucinda settles and presses the scarf back into my open mouth, knot filling the space, the fast becoming familiar taste and texture of wool. Leaning in to reach around, chest brushing against my chest as she yanks and tightens the knot, adding a second to prevent loosening.
Stepping back, waiting. Both of us waiting because yes, I'm getting left here.
But how?
Kind of a sliding scale here, how mean does Lucinda- you -want to be, to me? Left as I am but (A) tethered to the nearest tree, or (B) somewhat mobile as I'm abandoned hogtied on the woodland floor. Or (C) properly bound to a tree, going nowhere.
It's called suffering the consequences. All my- your -fault, could've walked away, left Lucinda as she, snapping at me, clearly wanted. But no.
Standing across from her, waiting. Lucinda looking all around as though the answer to her problem: me, apparently, not leaving her in peace makes me the, her problem.
And honestly I hadn't thought so. I can see the logic of binding me, having freed herself, binding me to prevent my binding her a second time. But I'd thought she wanted more, from and to and with me, that capturing me would be a first step.
No.
Shivering as I hear the whisper of decision, noting Lucinda's small nod, accompanied by a small smile.
Noticing even as she approaches me, standing my ground whilst Lucinda yanks, rough handling, not being polite and treating me in such a manner setting off another tingle in my- exposed feeling -chest. Yanking the scarf gag down around my neck.
And me, noticing. Frowning. Was there always this much rope laying around the immediate area?
"Sammy."
"Lucinda."
"Following me."
"Yes." Swallowing, tamping down on the urge to run and. "Sorry." It's a little too late, for apologies or for escape.
Lucinda shrugging, she knows it too, how this will play out. But I can't help the urges, wanting to act despite not being allowed. Urges translating as a brief wriggle, wrists rubbing together and trying to pull first left then right up, out of the tight bindings.
Failing, a nod from Lucinda at the fact, expecting nothing less and what would she of done, had things played out differently thus far?
"You're staying here, then."
"I." Shiver, not allowed to run. "Know."
"And I'm going to make sure you do." Glancing around, considering possibilities.
"Yes."
"Good." Pulling the gag back up and I make no move to stop her, resigned to my fate as Lucinda settles and presses the scarf back into my open mouth, knot filling the space, the fast becoming familiar taste and texture of wool. Leaning in to reach around, chest brushing against my chest as she yanks and tightens the knot, adding a second to prevent loosening.
Stepping back, waiting. Both of us waiting because yes, I'm getting left here.
But how?
Kind of a sliding scale here, how mean does Lucinda- you -want to be, to me? Left as I am but (A) tethered to the nearest tree, or (B) somewhat mobile as I'm abandoned hogtied on the woodland floor. Or (C) properly bound to a tree, going nowhere.
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Boundgirl09
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- Joined: 5 days ago
- Location: Cornwall
