Tough Lessons in Safety (various/F) - Part 4 (The Second Lesson!)

[AlexUSA3]

Safety in bondage/TUGs just isn't discussed enough. Well, Janie and her friends and family are going to have some adventures followed by some lessons on the dangers of the way they're playing their games.

Tough Lessons in Safety
Part 1: Boxed and Abandoned (MF/F)
Monday, October 09, 2023

Being a Cool Girl means being willing to try cool things. Being a Rondell means being willing to try wild things. Both of those "things" involve TUGs, and with the Rondell family part of the experience you are never certain what will happen to you. I've been forced to go hide in a forest while bound and gagged in nothing but my underwear; I've been shut in a suitcase by Caleigh so Ken would have to free me when he got home but only after getting the key on a promise that we would try to make a baby before he untied me. Caleigh is a total voyeurist, which is a battle that I will not attempt to explain in these pages, but I might try in another story. I've been suspended in an upside-down hogtie, from a tree, while buck naked, and I've been a human burrito. There's no such thing as a dull moment when you're playing TUGs with Eva and Caleigh Rondell.

I had dressed so pretty for the day, I thought. I kind of had a mix of Eva vibes with my own take on the style. My blue sneakers were a favorite; I always have blue sneakers around. White knee socks under my blue ankle skirt, blue briefs, blue sports bra, white t-shirt, and a split-color white and blue bandana as a kerchief to hold my hair back. My butt-length black hair was cherished in a braid held by blue and white scrunchies. Yes, I love dichromatic outfits more than anything.

There's Caleigh Rondell, the rope artist, the Princess of Chaos. She looks so innocent with just a pair of black short shorts, so short that they can't be seen underneath the oversized red sweatshirt she is wearing, and she has red ankle socks and pink sneakers with it. Her blonde hair is always as free as can be: she hates all headgear except for ball caps. She was bubbly and happy. She is on summer vacation from graduate school, and she came to help us both with work and child. I couldn't ask for a better aunt to my and Ken's infant son, at the time just 3 months old.

Then there's Eva Rondell, the brute of brutes, the Queen of Chaos. Her role in this story has not been reached yet. Let's move to Ken, my husband, Caleigh and Eva's big brother, who is likely the Clown Prince of Chaos. This simple figure with blue jeans and a black polo might look like a Bob Villa type, but he's actually quite the kidnapper in his own right. Yes, I said kidnapper.

Nothing like stepping out of the restroom just after 3PM—and you work 8 AM to 5 PM with one hour for lunch, in classic fashion, and getting grabbed by your husband with a tight grip. A hand went over the mouth to gag me, and the left arm wrapped my chest and fondled my right boob. I couldn't ask for a better surprise, really. But Ken's 6'3"; I was screwed even if I'm 6'1". With a laugh, Ken dragged me into the office, shoved me away, and shut the door. I was trapped.

"Off with the skirt and blouse. On the double," the look in his eyes told me I was safe to play.
"And if I don't?" I asked him in a defiant tone and a twinkle in my brown eyes.
"Then the Indian Princess gets severely punished," he motioned as if spanking me already.
"What if the Indian Princess first allowed you to please herself with you?" I played hardball.
"In exchange for her resistance and having to be more forcibly bound and gagged?" he asked.
"I see you getting an erection at the thought," I taunted him, "I'm not submissive today!"

I should have played nice, I suppose, because Ken totally owned me, plain and simple. He was in the right mood for absolute domination, which was a rarity, and he gave it everything so that it was the unfair advantage of simply being a man. Masculinity has uses, like easily overpowering a big tall strong Native American girl who was such a softball star she represented Team USA in Japan in 2018's world championships. But Ken used the brown rope and completely torqued my arms with tight, wonderful elbow and wrist bonds to pin them behind my back. I mentioned one of the rubber dog ball gags in the last adventure, but here Ken decided to go all the way and use a 3 inch orange ball threaded with a green bandana to gag me, knotting it effectively.

"GMMMM!" I was already panting from exhaustion, but I was loving the total domination even if I still had my shirt on me. It's so different from those "consensual nonconsensual" games that my sister plays with her husband. Those are her basically fantasizing being kidnapped, bound, gagged, and unwillingly used. Here, it was just the wife playing "hard to get," which was very different in so many ways. I was already helpless, but I was safe and never felt misused.

"Wait until you go in the crate," he said to me, knowing he was distracting me from the moment.

I don't describe sexual actions, and I still won't here. Just know that Ken soon had my ankles in a tight bond and my skirt folded up neatly on the chair. Shortly after that, we "made babies" in a dirty manner, with me snarling at him through the 3 inch ball gag and drooling all over the place the entire time. It was so much fun, and I chastised him for treating me as a squaw instead of as a wife. Yes, yes, yes, I am very proud of my varied tribal heritage. Ken is so thoughtful that he always makes sure that I reach pleasure from the deed before he pleases himself though.

"Well, it sure sounded like you two were having fun," Caleigh giggled as she opened the door.
"You twisted little freak!" Ken said in an absolute failure of an attempt to imitate Eva's voice.
"Ha! C'mon, Ken, just because I enjoy the sounds doesn't mean I enjoyed them like you two just did! Get moving! Tie her up! I have a parting present for her and a burrito wrap to boot!"
"Well, well, Caleigh," Ken wrapped his sister in a one-armed hug, "I love you, sis. I want you to know something. I know you have the hots for Janie and in general are attracted to girls."
"What?! Ken! How observant!" she laughed it off, "Used to have the hots for Janie. I am quite touched that you figured it out on your own. Most guys don't pay enough attention to sisters to be aware of such things. Now, my dear big brother, tie up that girl! Get moving! Shoo!"
"Janie likes to say that God wanted her to be your sister-in-law as much as my wife. I see why."
"Thank you, Ken. And thank you for not letting my kinks or sexuality change your love for me."

Then Ken torqued my legs like my arms. Yikes. He tied my legs in five more places in addition to the ankle bonds: shins, below the knees, above the knees, mid thighs, and upper thighs. There was no hope of escape, and he tied a secure harness to pin my arms further and to accentuate my beautiful form after baring my boobs. A waist-and-crotch rope followed, also pinning my arms and providing wonderful irritation for my crotch. I was in the proper mood to use that rope for a "solo orgy," as some of my friends like to call it. Can you feel the happiness in the air?

Or hoppiness.

"Make her hop to her burrito wrapping," Caleigh said, holding a huge purple bandana to use for a gag—it was definitely a 27 inch bandana instead of 22 inches—and cackled, "And her coffin."
"GMMMM!" I groaned while my shoes clomped with each hop. How humiliating yet awesome it was to have my skirt stolen and have my boobs exposed while still in my socks and sneakers!

I hopped and clomped on the floor in my embarrassing position. Humiliation might top my own list of kinks, though, especially when playing with my sisters-in-law. And right then I was quite a mess with slobber flowing from the 3 inches of hard orange rubber that gagged me. However, I'd been captured by a strong man and his clever sister, and I noticed that Caleigh had tied a knot in the center of the bandana that seemed bigger than normal for a knotted cleave gag. Whenever I took too long to hop, one of them would spank me or fondled me. Finally, we arrived with me a sweating mess and breathing heavily from the combination of excitement and exhaustion. Out of my mouth came the big rubber ball finally with the unknotting of the green bandana.

"Ugh!" I said, hopping in place, "What's up with that bandana?"
"Oh, it's just a big one," she looked at her feet… which no longer had socks on them, "Just big."
"Bad Caleimmmph!" my speech ended at that, and I was forced to sit after she'd knotted the gag.
"There, there, soon you will be silent," she held up a roll of blue duct tape to match my outfit.
"Gmmmmm!" I said, after 8 wraps that were so tight they changed the landscape of my cheeks.
"And soon you will be a sexy burrito inside a coffin!" she showed the red sheet that was ready.

Caleigh isn't a risk taker and is a dominator. That's why she wrapped my thighs, legs, and belly in more blue duct tape. She wrapped them completely: ankles to knees, knees to waist, and waist to boobs. As if the rope bondage wasn't sufficient already. I was a big taco getting stuffed inside a burrito by a girl whose favorite part of Tex-Mex cuisine was the tortillas. The harsh reality for me is I am Black, Creek, Irish, Miccosukee, Seminole, and Spanish. Neither Tex nor Mex. She furthered the taco effect by pulling off my sneakers and my socks and wrapping my arches with more of the blue tape. A taco inside a burrito inside a coffin. Sounds yummy but also dead. As if this all wasn't sufficient, when she wrapped the tape gag she made sure to trap my braid, too.

"Gmmmmmm!" I groaned when Caleigh pulled one of Eva's homemade bondage hoods over my head, and before she snapped it shut around my neck she made sure that my socks were against my nose so that I'd (eventually) taste her socks while smelling my own. I felt her and Ken work in unison to lay me on the sheet, and it was time for the blue and white taco to become a burrito.

My braid is precious to me. I'm not diving into it in this story, but there's trauma behind my hair and why it reaches my butt even while braided. I loved my hair long before I was old enough to be truly cognizant of my tribal heritage. My siblings and I were, oddly enough, the ones getting all the funny stares because we obviously looked different from everyone else. There were many Asians, African-American, and Hispanic kids in school, but my siblings and I were the only ones who were Native American. It meant nothing to me until I was maybe 12-14 years old, but long before that I loved my hair. When the trauma happened, my braid became my way of hiding my hair in a way that was still beautiful to me while looking merely practical to others.

"She is such a sexy burrito," Caleigh giggled and fondled my boobs, "Boooooobbbbbbieesssss!"
"Gmmm mmm mmmmmmmmmm!" I yelled out to be an absolutely sexy, helpless drama queen.
"She complains too much for a girl who lost her skirt," Ken says, completely taunting me.
"GMM HMMMMM!" I just know it's a matter of time before my saliva soaks through the big 27 inch square purple bandana and begins to afflict my tongue with the taste of Caleigh's socks, and I only make a fuss because her socks are possibly the most rancid socks I've tasted from 2 dozen individual's socks over my 15 years of playing TUGs with friends, family, and in-laws.
"You really need to think of her needs, bro," Caleigh sweetly jerked on my crotch rope.
"Hank oo!" I reacted for what I am sure was merely the first of many times in this adventure.

I was centered on the edge of the red sheet, and the extra above my head and below my feet was folded over my body before I began to be tightly wrapped. It was a thrift store find, as all sheets used for Rondell-style mummifications are. I know Caleigh loves mummifying her cousin more than anyone else, even me or Eva, but that is because that cousin loves being mummified most of all of us. Yes, there are many stories involving the cousin, too. It's a crazy Rondell world.

When the wrapping was done, more tape (I am sure blue) sealed things shut around my ankles, lower thighs, waist, lower and upper chest (so that my bust still looked perky), and neck (don't worry; it wasn't constricting). They picked me up and laid me inside the wooden crate, and the lid was placed on top of the box. One by one, each of the clasps shut until all were closed. Now I was completely trapped with absolutely no chance of escape. SO. AWESOME.

"Gmmmmm," I quietly groaned when that moment hit… The taste of Caleigh's feet, "BLUGH!"
"Ha ha! Your feet have struck, my sweet little sister," Ken taunted us both in one zinger.
"I love it! We'll leave your hot buxom wife for Eva to come retrieve after we've left."
"Ah ha! That's why you prepared that gag the way you did!" he admired her cleverness.
"I might have blonde moments, but I'm not a complete dufus," Caleigh picked on herself, too!
"Ugh!" just because I was a hooded burrito-wrapped taco stuffed in a coffin didn't mean I was immune to bad jokes and self-deprecating humor, "Gmm mmmm mm! Mmm mm mmm?"

I have no idea what I asked, but I wanted them to wonder what the captive Native American hot buxom wife was asking from inside the wooden crypt. They were making a mockery of me in a situation of their making; let them ask questions now. Let them wonder what's in my mind. It's a fun little game of mental chess even if I'd already lost for all intents and purposes. How "Hot buxom wife" excited me, though, especially since I had B cup boobs. Hardly buxom.

I squirmed inside the layers of bondage, feeling that heat welling up within me. Ahh, sexuality, I do love what you do to me through crotch ropes, but how I hate describing the physicality of you and your splendid results. Orgasm is like a workout: it hurts, you secrete fluid, you feel like your muscles will explode, and it somehow is still absolutely amazing. It's just erotic, and I'm able to repeatedly orgasm for hours unlike bench pressing or jogging or curling.

"See you later, Janie!" Ken suddenly announced, to my total surprise, "Eva will get you later."
"Yep. I'll see you tomorrow or some other time, Hot Buxom Wife!" Caleigh taunted.
"Huh?!" I couldn't believe my ears; they were really abandoning me here like this?
"At least it's been cooler today! You'll be fine," my sister-in-law reassured me.
"Eva gets off at 5, so you'll be here only an hour or an hour and a half," Ken added.
"Gmmmmm," the thought alone was enough to get me arching in my multi-layered confinement.
"Have fun. I know you will!" the blonde girl teased me.
"BLUGH!" I retched on the taste of her horrid socks and thought HOW THRILLING.

I do not recommend doing such things, to be clear, but this explained Caleigh's gag setup and her choice of confinement. She arranged things so that my only risks were fire and tornado. Both of those are extreme scenarios, and the latter wasn't going to happen on a clear, cool, sunny day, but fire was a risk anytime and anywhere. In other words, I was letting this slide. Abandonment in a forest is one thing because we don't have the dangers in Minnesota that exist in some places, so I felt safe and calm in this crazy situation. Again, not recommendable, but THRILLING.

I squirmed in my bonds, the cushioning layers of sheet, hood, and my braid (as little as they were able to provide) my only consolation in my bondage, the intense rope bondage, the tape over the rope, and the sheet which wrapped me like a burrito, all stuffed into a wooden box. My skirt had been taken, and my own socks were against my nose with their terrible odor, a contrast to what I experienced from tasting Caleigh's socks, and my boobs were exposed. I was in heaven.

"HELLLLLL!" I called out as loudly as I could, but no response came, "HELLLL EEEE!"

I was truly alone here in the woodshop.

And then I exploded.

Never before that moment had I been so aroused without physical stimulation involved. It's an awkward topic for me, but that was the best orgasm I'd experienced to that point in my life, with bondage anyway. I'd had some breathstopping moments in both vanilla and bondage sex, but all by myself like this? No, that was, for 22 year old Janie, the moment of her lifetime. I screamed as loudly as I could, at the top of my lungs, as shrill as possible, and I got no response, not even a saw quietly chopping wood on the far side of the woodshop. It was genuine abandonment with a pair of socks on my nose and some of the most stringent bondage possible as my only company.

"HELLLLLLLLLL! HELLL EEEEEE!" I cried out repeatedly knowing that not only was I here all alone but also that there was no way anyone could hear me because the distance between the woodshop and the road was too great. I was trapped in rope bondage and wrapped in thick blue duct tape and then mummified with a sheet and more tape. I had the homemade hood, Caleigh's socks in my mouth under the numerous, face crushing layers of tape, my socks against my nose, and the confines of the box. "HELLLL! HELLLLLLLL! EH EE OU UH HEEH!" but all I did was force myself towards another explosive reaction, "GMMMMMMMMM!" It was fantasy of the best kind: true abandonment in body, but Caleigh and Ken were with me in spirit.

The tight rope bondage was sufficient to trap me in here, but the tape, hood, and sheet all caused me to sweat. Sweaty situations lead me to more arousal. Plus I had a crotch rope. Solitude was but another drug, the most powerful of them all, and I thrashed inside the layers like an alligator in heat, slamming the sides of the crate with full force. The more I fought, the more of Caleigh's dirty sock flavors leached onto my tongue. The layers, especially the tape that wrapped around my body for the taco portion of my bondage, trapped the sweat, making me quickly get soaked.

BAM!………… BAM!………… BAM!………… BAM!………… BAM! I slammed my feet against the strong wooden box that confined me. "AHHHHHHHH! HELL EEEEE! HELL EEEEEEEEEE!" and throw myself into a massive arch stopped only by the tight confines of the box, "EEEKKKKKKKKKK!" I loved every minute of it though and couldn't get enough of it. I was in my TUG heaven, completely helpless and abandoned like this, and I made a mountain out of a molehill in the best ways imaginable. This was such a fun adventure.

That was just a few minutes. Caleigh and Ken abandoned me at 4:07 PM. Eva arrived after 5:40 PM. You can imagine my exhaustion, my sweating, the ache in my body from the numerous and strong orgasms, the barrenness of Caleigh's socks by then, the weakness of the odor in my socks, and the continued rigidity of my bondage. I tried again, "UGH! HELLLL EEEE!"

"Janie! Janie!" I heard Eva's voice, "Where are you? How long have you been here?"
"Geh ee ou uh ith!" I said to her despite my impassioned pleasure and continued heat.
"Let me get you out of there," she undid the clasps on the box and opened the lid.
"Eha, hell ee! Geh ee ouhha hith," I said in my exhausted state.
"Boy, Ken and Caleigh turned you into an entombed Indian Princess burrito, huh?"
"Mmm hmm!" I nodded my head, "It uth ho hooh," I melted in my bondage.

Eva, Caleigh and Ken's younger sister, is like an angel to me, and I do the same for her. As I have mentioned before, she is becoming increasingly deaf, and she will likely be totally deaf by the time she is 30. But, at the time of this story, hearing aids still worked for her, and she had a big smile on her face while she helped me out of the box and undid the tape that sealed the sheet around my body. Once I was out of the sheet, she also removed the hood and with it my socks.

"Hank oo," I said weakly to her, and laid there breathing heavily.
"You're welcome," she smiled, "Janie, may I have a little fun?" she asked me, and I nodded.

And then Eva proceeded to pull on the crotch rope to send me into one last frenzy. She saw that distinctive look in my eyes, and she knew I wanted that and that alone. Eva loves spanking me more than doing anything else, but she didn't. She went for the thing she knew would make me happy, and my happiness in turn made her happy. Eva didn't dominate for domination's sake like Caleigh did; it was all a game for her, no matter the role. My role was to orgasm helplessly and give her a hearty laugh because of my wide-eyed frenzy. It was so much fun we had that day.

Eva released me after that, but I will never forget that adventure. It was unforgettable for all the right reasons. Several unique adventures involve the crate. As I've said elsewhere, use of the crate wasn't as frequent back then because it was just me and Ken, so it was mostly him teasing me on occasion. With TUGs happening at work 2-4 times per month, the box only appeared 3-6 times per year until Eva joined us there full time in 2023.

[AlexUSA3]

@charliesmith, @silvertejp590, @SquidIncMaster, @Switcher1313, @The G-Man, @Caesar73, @Phantomette, @0Kay, @Yewteed, @Solarbeast, @GreyLord, @Kinky_boi,@harveygasson, @hafnermg, @johopp, @Bilmik, @DommeKirsten, @RopeBunny, @LunaDog, @PenelopeRopes, @StrugglingSue, @JohnnyRockets, @mega23101982

Part 2: Abandoned but Not Forgotten
Wednesday, October 11, 2023

"GMMMM HMMMMM!" Eva howled into the gag before I shut and clasped the lid of the crate.
"Don't worry," I said to my bound, blindfolded, and gagged sister-in-law while hitting each clasp.
"MMMMM HMMMMMM!" she yelled quite loudly, totally immobilized with zipties.
"I'll only be gone 1 or 2 hours, maybe 3," I said sarcastically, "You'll be fine!"
"MMMMMMMMM!" she repeated the plea but never gave the release signal since she liked it.
"See ya, Eva! Enjoy yourself!" I said and walked out of the woodshop.

How did we get to this point? Why is Eva bound and gagged? Why did I lock her inside a crate like this? Why am I going to make deliveries instead of my husband? I took a calculated risk, but all TUGs are calculated risks. I bet you're dying to know how I concluded that it was OK to leave Eva like that for up to 3 hours of total helpless solitude. Let's go back 15 or 30 minutes….

"All right, Janie," Ken said to me, "I have a dentist appointment. Will you make the deliveries?"
"Of course!" I said with a smile, "I'd be glad to do that. I love making deliveries!"
"And I can help!" Eva said with her own smile, "It'll be great!"
"Great. I will feel like human waste afterwards," he laughed, "And will see you at the house."
"By, sweetie," I kissed my husband on the cheek and watched him leave.
"Sweet! Oh, Janie, we'll have so much fun without Kenny," my sister-in-law spoke ironically.

I went to use the restroom before I left because the truck was already loaded and ready for me to make the deliveries. That's how it began. On my way back from the restroom, I happened to see a piece of plastic on the floor: a piece of ziptie from the last time someone had been ziptied right here in this very same workshop, probably 1 or 2 months before this. That gave me an idea for a ride that Eva would never forget for as long as she lived. I went to a little supply cabinet, where we kept the work TUG toys (don't judge us) and grabbed three packages of different sized zips.

Now I had to execute my plan on the lovely Eva Rondell. We were dressed for the chill of a cold autumn day, although it was just a chill and not oppressive. Eva dressed like it was much colder than it was, with her military ascetic: a pleated camouflage ankle skirt, a khaki turtleneck t-shirt, a camouflage bandana headband, a khaki scrunchie holding her braid, camouflage combat boots, black knee socks, and khaki leg warmers. It's cottage-core meets U.S. Army and 1950s women.

Eva is no slouch, either. She played volleyball and coached it now. She was still fit to play it at a decent level, too, but an old injury and hearing loss stole both her volleyball and army dreams. She was a strong girl, the piercing blue eyes and blonde hair with natural brown highlights both hid the depths of her soul. She had a personality that was adorable, but you will see it soon.

"Boom!" I grabbed her when she stepped out of the office, and quickly tried to bind her arms.
"Why you twisted little freak!" she said ironically, since she is 5'8" and I am 6'1".
"I'm making these deliveries alone," I cackled while she fought me, but I prevailed.
"Sneaky like the Seminole Samson that you are!" she needled me with my ethnic nickname.
"Ohhhh, yes," I made sure the ziptie held her elbows together safely, "And you're all mine now!"
"Guh!" she tried to flex her arms and snap the ziptie, and sighed, "Not today! I guess I'm yours!"

Seminole Samson only set Florida high school and college conference home run records and got to play softball for Team USA before retiring to be a wife and mother. I wore my favorite outfit, but mine doesn't matter since I am the captor. It was all red and black, though, and looked great against my Native American skin tone, black long hair. and chocolate brown eyes. Even in such weather, Eva and I broke out in a sweat, and I dare say it made me look even more Native!

With zipties, it's "safety in numbers". It's hard to find the line between "safety in numbers" and "too darned many." That's why I zipped Eva's arms together five more times so that she had one above her elbows and five from her wrists to just below her elbows. I used bright yellow zips so they would stand out. She sat down with a plaintive, playful, and mischievous sigh while I stole her boots, socks, and leg warmers. Again, safety in numbers! Five zips for each leg segment.

"Wait until I show my secret strength and snap these at will," Eva joked, loving her bondage.
"Wait until I show my secret weapon and make you groan into your socks!" I stuffed one sock in the other, "This is going to be fun for both me and you… especially for you, my friend!"
"This is going to be gross," she laughed, "Hey, psychopath, I went to the gym with those socks!"
"I know you did," I smiled, knotting a big 27 inch black bandana around the outer sock.
"I have a secret, Janie," Eva rolled her eyes, "I wanted to be tied up today and went commando."
"That's why you're not fighting and swearing like normal!" I nodded my head in understanding.
"Janie, I hate to ask my sister-in-law and best friend for this, but…," she anxiously bit her lip.

I could tell she was embarrassed and full of some sort of desire. To be fair, there had been things I knew she hadn't experienced since her boyfriend dropped her on account of her deafness after a multi-year relationship. If I knew her as well as I thought I did, then she wanted to be fondled to the point that she received a breast orgasm. Except that's not fondling. She just wants to feel the helplessness and the squeeze and the resulting rush of hormones. I have seen that embarrassment on her face in the past for similar requests during TUGs. She shouldn't be embarrassed though!

"Janie, push me to my limits. Test me. Make me long for release. If I'm going to be trapped for 1 to 3 hours, I want to feel true helplessness. Mummify me. Burrito wrap me. Expose me. Try anything you think will make me feel that. I… brought my vibrator with me today."
"For you the surprise was Ken's appointment. You came planning on TUGs," I smiled at her.
"Yeah, that ruined my plans, and I thought we'd play afterwards, but…," she rolled her eyes.
"It's time for G.I. Eva to quit speaking," I said and stuffed the layered gag into her mouth.
"GMMMMMM!" she groaned loudly while the sweaty socks filled every crevice of her mouth.
"No mercy, just as you requested," I said, knotting the black bandana as tightly as possible.

I then took out a roll of blue duct tape and a pair of scissors and watched Eva's grow wide with a mixture of dread, desire, horror, and excitement. She asked me to spare her nothing, and love is a funny thing that will lead you to call an audible on your plans and fulfill desire. I tried to wrap the tape as tightly around her head as I could, squeezing her cheeks and sealing her lips as best as I could. Honestly, if she hadn't requested such intensity, I would have been uncomfortable giving her so tight of a gag. Sometimes, a girl isn't stressed, but she still needs to burn off some energy.

"Nnnggggggggg!" Eva tested the gag and sounded quiet and unable to say anything intelligible.

I grabbed the scissors and cut the excess on each of the zips binding Eva's arms and legs. I took a bag of smaller zips and then went to work increasing the intensity. Tying her big toes together was a standard element. Zipping each finger on her left hand to the same one on her right hand was less common, and I zipped them at the base of the finger and at the third knuckle, cutting the excess in similar fashion. I zipped her thumbs together and her palms. Using a trick I learned in college, I zipped all four fingers together in the middle and zipped her thumbs to her hands. She couldn't do anything with her fingers or hands… at all. It was excessive, and her eyes glowed.

A wiggle of the eyebrows told me that this was exactly how she wished it to be, and I grabbed a roll of cling wrap to begin the mummification portion of her request since I couldn't do all of it so soon as I still had to fulfill the exposure portion. Still, I wrapped her lower legs and thighs in the clear plastic, and I pulled one of the leg warmers over the useless club that was her lower legs mostly as a harmlessly comedic show of my power, and she tested all of the bondage with gusto. I even put the vibrator right in the perfect spot before I wrapped her thighs. Playing with fire.

"Nnnnggggg!" again, Eva yelled, but she was really just testing the limits of the disgusting gag.
"Don't waste your energy, Eva," I taunted her with whimsy, "You'll need it when you're crated."

Eva took a deep breath when I rolled her shirt up to confirm her claim of going commando today and found a pair of, ahem, using my best porno voice here "Luscious, perfectly round, firm, 32B tits, so perfect to squeeze." I wrapped longer zips around her torso at her waist and both above and below her boobs, mostly to pin her arms to her torso and make her even more helpless. Then I cling wrapped her torso except for her boobs. I make bondage sound like medicine, don't I?

"Nnnnngggg!" once more, Eva cried out, this time when I used a beige bandana to blindfold her.
"Eva, you made a request, a show of your trust in me, and I won't betray that trust," I assured her.
"Nnnmph!" she exhaled sharply when I began squeezing her breasts just like she desired.
"I know. That feeling is electrifying, isn't it?" I asked her, knowing her desires all too well.
"Nggg!" she nodded in total surrender, joyfully anticipating the orgasm, the burrito wrapping, the sealing in the crate, and the total abandonment alone here in the workshop that would follow.
"Just you wait until you're in the crate and I turn on that wand," I tried to build her anticipation.

Now, not trying to get graphic, but just picture me, granted I was 6'1", but I'm a Native American with super long jet black hair in a braid, a very girly face, and an athletic figure. Picture me with a blonde haired military-clad captive sitting on my lap while I talk to her with that porno voice as my inflection while I say things like "Booooooooobiessssssss!" because I'm squeezing her boobs to help her achieve that breast orgasm she so obviously desires. I really up the ante with teasing, such as her own expression of "Mmmm hmmm, what a rack!" You can imagine the rest.

"Nggggg!" was all Eva could say even when she blindly threw her head back and lost herself in a fit of ecstasy when I squeezed the breast orgasm out of her. Never had I heard so much pleasure from her, and I realized that she found so much meaning in our friendship, enough so that losing her dreams to deafness and injury and losing her boyfriend would one day no longer matter even as she faced the reality of one day navigating a completely silent world. It saddened me to see a girl who loved TUGs so much would someday be unable to hear gag talk or playful menacing.

I soon found an old pink sheet that we kept in the woodshop just for moments like this. This was going to be the final piece before the crating of Evangeline Rondell. I laid out the sheet and put her at one side and in the middle, folding the excess sheet above her over her head and chest and the excess below her feet over her feet and legs. I then rolled it up tightly, just like a burrito! It was such a fun way to be wrapped, and I wrapped more blue duct tape around her ankles, lower thighs, waist, and either side of her boobs to seal the sheet around her body. Was this foolish? I even fed the wire to the vibrator so that I could attach it to an extension cord. This was risky.

"Enjoy," I said tenderly, laying Eva inside the crate and feeding the extension cord through one of the two notches we'd carefully carved into the side of the crate (since you could fit two people inside the crate). I put the lid on top and clasped it shut before plugging the vibrator into the wall and opening up my phone to engage the device. Yes, we had four vibrators; two classic and two that could be controlled with an app so that any of us could be sent a text and asked to dish out delightful torment at a distance. With that, I left, wondering if I was an idiot to do this.

Abandonment has been that kink that sets the Pattersons and Rondells apart from the rest of the Cool Girls' Club. It's that one realm in which we're foolhardy. We know it's dangerous and risky in the particular case of fire. We never used true stuffed gags, but what about emergencies? It is to be noted that there are 5 stories of workplace abandonment and 2 of home abandonment which represent the entire collection of post-college abandonment games which I've played, but is this 7 too many? Should we have a "ball gags only" rule? No matter what rule you put in place, what I did to Eva should not have occurred under any conditions, and thankfully only my story of crate abandonment and this one featured anything near this level of intensity.

I drove away and slowly simmered into a multitude of thoughts even as I made my first delivery with a smile still on my face. After that, I opened the app and adjusted the vibrator to intensify the situation for Eva. I could picture her enjoying her solo, loudly orgasming in her solitude. It was going to be intense for her because she's a girl who can really get going, and she had a long wait ahead of her. Just when I seemed to relax, I tensed up once again.

What if Eva was in distress? What if she'd tightened a ziptie by mistake? If I'd used some other kind of binding, that wouldn't be an issue. What if she wanted to be released? No one could free her because only I knew she was there and so heavily wrapped. What if something went wrong, like if she got sick? That's when I realized two things: first I was overthinking things when this should have been planned out and second that I knew for sure that Eva was having fun. That my choices were ill-advised was true, but the real issue was in how I executed my impromptu plan.

And then I upped the vibrator to max and did 75 in a 40 zone to get back to the shop sooner since I rushed to each customer's location but gave them that Rondell careful delivery they so love. I'd still taken almost 2 hours to make all of the deliveries, and I hastened back to the shop, vowing I would never do something this insane ever again. This crossed from risky to stupid.

"Nggggg!" Eva orgasmed for God knows what time when I entered the woodshop again.
"Well, I'm glad she's safe," I muttered to myself and approached the crate in silence.
"Gmmmmm," she quietly groaned, unaware that she wasn't alone any longer.
"That's my friend," I spoke softly so she couldn't hear me, "She trusts me so much."
"NGGGGGG UHHHHHH!" her groans were extremely primal, almost like subspace.
"Thank you God for protecting her," I prayed before taking a deep breath and opening the crate.

I had utterly failed to protect the Gangsta Bloom. With sadness, I helped Eva out of the crate and gently laid her down on the floor and cut the tape that sealed her inside the burrito wrap sheet. I knew I had been derelict in my responsibilities, and I unknotted the blindfold. Eva's eyes glazed over from the subspace, and there was a look of childish wonder. I unplugged the vibrator before I went further to remove the most glaring of the stimuli before proceeding.

I carefully unpeeled the tape gag, making sure I didn't rip her skin. I unknotted the bandana and pulled the socks out with the bandana to which they'd been affixed, my one "safety check" in one dangerous and foolish game. Eva said nothing; she never spoke much in subspace; she would be unaware of 50-75% of what I was doing afterwards, having no recollection of this part. She had a grin on her face, though, which only reminded me that I'd endangered her in the name of fun.

I let Eva sit for a few minutes, but she was in a high like nothing I'd ever seen, meaning I'd likely pushed her into subspace when I turned on the vibrator or made that first adjustment, let alone at the time of the second adjustment. She trusted me as her sister-in-law and best friend, and I had utterly failed her. Never had I seen her so still, so distant, so unaware, or so quiet. Eva Rondell is a girl best enjoyed when she's loud, profane, and fully attuned to her surroundings. What had I done? What kind of fool had I been to do this to some I love so dearly?!

"Janie," Eva broke her silence with a near whisper, "That was almost magical."
"I'm…," I started to apologize and realized she wouldn't understand it, "Magical, huh?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "I need my dark chocolate," and then she closed her eyes and leaned back.

I sat there stunned, my jaw open. I had trivialized her life, and she was grateful because she had no clue how much risk went into her current state. She was happy because she didn't understand what happened to her in subspace. I quietly cut the cling wrap while she slowly returned to her normal state, a state for which I now had a longing. I cut the zipties, finishing her release. I was irresponsible, and I realized that loving submission and subspace doesn't make me a dominatrix. There needs to be communication, and understanding yourself in submission does not mean that you understand others in submission. If anything, I'm less qualified because I'm submissive.

"Wow," Eva lay on her back and looked up at the ceiling, "Janie, thank you so much."
"Here's your chocolate," I handed her a piece knowing it was part of her routine aftercare.
"Thanks," she accepted it and took a bite, her eyes slowly regaining their vitality.
"Are you OK?" I asked her so that I would have some sense of reassurance.
"Of course," she said in a more Eva-like tone, "Why, is something wrong?"

That day led to changes in how I approached TUGs. It was the beginning of new guidelines for how we conducted games. Abandonment is a potentially deadly kink. I had no place leading a subspace adventure let alone an abandonment game, but I could certainly be the one guided in a game where these were the aims. Abandonment had to have more failsafes in place if we were to explore that danger. The captive had to have a realistic shot at escaping, which wasn't going to happen with zipties. The bondage should not have been zipties in case they tightened.

I couldn't spoil the moment for Eva because then she'd crash out of subspace, and things would be even worse. Instead, I carefully guided her back to earth, brought her home safe and sound, went home, fixed dinner for my family, got the kids to bed, cuddled up with Ken, and cried. If I had injured Eva, I would've never forgiven myself. It was a day of reckoning for me and TUGs and some of the wilder kinks that my family and I shared.

I had many lessons to learn, but thankfully I had my husband, in-laws, siblings, and friends.

"I don't understand what you did wrong," Eva said to me, having no memory of the events due to the intensity of the subspace erasing her memory of pretty much everything from before the first adjustment to the vibrator. That made things that much worse, in my mind. Eva was helpless at my hands and under my protection, and I willfully endangered her even after the alarms went off in my head. I knew better, and I still pushed onwards with guilt and fear burying me alive. All I had to do was make a 15 minute diversion to the woodshop. Heck, all I needed to do was put my precious cargo in a secure position on the rear bench of the truck cab while I made the deliveries so that I could keep an eye on her at all times except when I was inside someone's home.

Dear Janie,
We heard about what happened with Eva a few days ago, and we want to assure you that there is no anger towards you for your mistake. When you spoke with your sister, it was clear that there was genuine grief in your voice, and she conveyed this to us when she expressed her concerns to us. Truly, you are a blessed girl to have the siblings and in-laws that you have!

When you spoke with me yesterday, your distress was obvious. Because this is a serious matter but you are apologetic about your mistake, we have decided that it would be best for one of our most knowledgeable, generous, and congenial members, Ashley Calland, to pay you a visit right at the scene of the crime, and she has graciously agreed to do so if you and your in-laws will be kind enough to receive her with open arms. She's a good teacher, the best of the best, and if you ask her nicely she will use you and Eva to demonstrate the safe way to play with the crate.

Don't beat yourself up over this. Take a deep breath. Hug Eva. Tell her you're sorry so that she is aware that this crossed a line in safety. When we spoke with her, she clearly hadn't a clue that this was so dangerous, in part because of her excitement and subsequent subspace. It's good for Ashley to visit because Eva might need the lessons even more than you do.

We love you, Gangsta Jock, and each of us sends you a hug and a kiss to remind you that you're human, that you're loved, and that you will always be a Cool Girl no matter what happens. You are overdue for a visit to some of us or from some of us, so let's get to work crafting a plan for a more informal, playful visit or two, OK? You deserve some downtime, especially after this. We are proud of you for realizing the severity of your mistake and self-reporting the violation of the rules to us. It takes more maturity than you realize, and you truly are a blessing to all who know you. There are some people you love who love you more than even you believe.

All the best in love and friendship,
The Cool Girls' Club 2023 Officers

[hafnermg]

Great story!! You do a great job describing the line between what is too dangerous and what isn't on these games!!

[AlexUSA3]

Part 3: Crate Lessons
Saturday, October 28, 2023

The visit from Ashley brought no more sorrow; indeed, it brought joy to all. I didn't know what to expect because I had little contact with those girls who monikered themselves "Bondagettes" due to their bondage modeling activities. Few of those girls attended my college, though many were close friends of my friends and fellow Cool Girls in their own right. I hadn't any qualms, nor did I let the fact that many went to prison affect my opinion of them. We just had differing paths in life, but my experiences with them were always positive and beautiful.

"You have such a nice workshop," Ashley smiled, her pumps clacking on the concrete floor.
"Thank you," Ken said with a doff of his ball cap, respecting Ashley's feminine dignity.
"Ah, but I see so many things," our visitor observed, "There are many lessons to be taught."
"I beg your pardon?" Eva scratched her head, "I'm sorry. I'm deaf, and… your accent."
"No, I am sor-ree," Ashley spoke slowly to allow her French accent to mellow, "I didn't know."
"I'm glad you agreed to do this," I said sheepishly, "We really need this 'masterclass' here."

Ashley looked around the woodshop with a remarkably keen eye. Her purple pumps, the brown miniskirt and matching pantyhose, the pink turtleneck t-shirt, and the purple bandana headband all made her look so quiet, calm, controlled, beautiful, ladylike, and approachable. There was a faint smile on her face as she studied the workplace, making her judgments without derisions or praises. She wanted to learn from us by how we lived lest she improperly criticize us.

With an inquisitive gaze, she walked up to the crate and to my surprise even laid herself down in it! She studied everything with an attention to detail that I knew I didn't possess. She was strong enough to kidnap me with ease (I know from personal experience; this despite me being 6'1" and her being 5'7"), and she was clearly studying all aspects of this device of confinement, imagining herself bound, gagged, blindfolded, mummified, and burrito wrapped in there just as I had done to Eva and had even experienced myself. We knew she'd correct us; but how badly had we failed each other, especially me failing Eva? We patiently waited for her to speak.

"Put the lid on the box and clasp it shut. This is your first lesson," Ashley calmly requested.
"OK," Eva obeyed instantly, but I hesitated from fear of judgement.
"Very interesting. Do you see the major problem with this crate?" she asked me from inside.
"It's a wooden box we got from a delivery," I explained, "We cut a notch for vibrator wires."
"But you did not put a window?" the teacher taught, "You must be able to see the captive if you are exploring subspace. It's one thing if you know she will make noise. But this box cannot be used on someone like me. I am too quiet. The little mice squeak louder than I when gagged."
"Oh," I could see the confusion on Eva's face while I blushed and opened the crate.
"This is an honest mistake. Caleigh, you have not spoken once," Ashley looked at Eva's sister.
"I'm just learning and quietly guessing what we did wrong before you say it," my sister-in-law is frank about matters, "I admit I never considered the importance of windows on the crate."

Ashley only smiled with that quiet, slight curl of her lips and easily hoisted herself out of the box so she could dust herself off, inspecting herself for splinters and being pleased to find none. That was our first fatal flaw in our style, and I could tell Eva was mortified. She never considered the dangers of such things, but I knew better and never properly applied my knowledge. All Ashley did was quietly adjust her bandana while her heels quietly clacked on the cold concrete; her arms were behind her back, her right hand clasping her left wrist; her posture was perfectly straight. I understood this was a posture that was expected in prison, used to encourage good posture since there are medical and psychological benefits of it and to lessen the chance of contact.

"There are no cameras? If you cannot see your captive, you must hear her. Are there cameras or sound monitors?" Ashley asked without looking at any of us, "Suppose a sound monitor?"
"That wouldn't work," Eva said without missing a beat, "You just told us you're too quiet."
"Very good, my dear," the French girl nodded her head, "You must have both. You see, there is a reason I was chosen. I share this kink of solitude, of being ignored, while helpless, and my sweet friends and I have developed our personal rules to ensure that nothing happens to me even when I am simply being ignored by my landlady while she bakes Christmas cookies with a friend."
"But you're still visible," I quickly put the pieces together, "So you're not vulnerable."
"I have been left home alone twice in my years, and we will talk about this now because we don't do this anymore and with good reason," she holds a finger to her lips, "Demonstrations to come."
"So what you're saying is abandonment is completely impossible," Eva misconstrued this.
"Hardly impossible, but perhaps always dangerous," the teacher humbly corrected the student.
"But it's kinky! I-it makes me orgasm h-harder… harder than anything else," Eva sputtered her words, "You mean I can't experience my all time favorite kink of helpless abandonment?!"
"If it means keeping you alive and safe," Ashley looked right into Eva's eyes, "Yes."

Ashley proceeded to tell us of her own erotic tale of abandonment. She was ball gagged, naked, hogtied, and helpless with a vibrator tormenting her. It all seemed so perfect to be home alone in this situation, but she and the friend who hogtied her had failed to consider that no one had been hogtied for so long before. With time, Ashley's legs began to go numb, but she was protected by a sound monitor that allowed her to use the safe signal, something which I hadn't allowed Eva in her crate adventure. The friend heard Ashley, talked to her, and came to rescue her before harm came to her. That was Ashley's second and final abandonment game, and with good cause.

"What if I had swallowed a pair of socks? Dead in seconds. A friend can smack you to force a swallowed gag up enough to remove it," she explained, "I am asking you, Eva, to trust me."
"Uhhhhhh… Ashley, would you demonstrate using me?" Eva expressed her learning preferences.
"I would have to do a hundred demonstrations," Ashley's accent was charming and thick.
"Oh… uh… all right," my sister-in-law looked crestfallen, as if her kinks were being vilified.
"You are not a bad person, Evangeline," the teacher said the French name so beautifully, "No."
"Then why do I have bad kinks? Why is Janie having to go to TUG school?" Eva choked a little.
"Because Janie loves you and realized she could have hurt you," Caleigh spoke again, "Eva, we want you to be safe while you have fun. All of us should be safe while having fun."
"Even breathplay?" the military strong girl voiced her favorite, and most dangerous, kink.
"Even that must be done the right way to be kink instead of stupid," Ashley had to be frank now.

I understood that Eva learned by example better than by words. That's why she was an athlete, a former nurse, a good knitter, and such a talented kitchen master. She could read a recipe or some random knitting pattern and fill in the gaps from the coded jargon. Even when she read a book to learn something, she often practiced what the book was explaining. She wanted to be bound and gagged properly and told directly why one gag was safe but another wasn't.

Ashley nodded her head while Eva went to pout in the office. My sister in law was so beautiful in her army-themed outfit: khaki camouflage bandana headband, classic camouflage knee socks, a homemade khaki jumper, a classic camouflage turtleneck t-shirt, and khaki combat boots. She had her ascetic and her desires. I'd never seen her take rejection too well, but this time she was a bit distraught on a more personal level. She felt flawed because she still didn't understand. What she wanted and what Ashley knew she needed were conflicting concepts in this case, but…

"She wants to be kidnapped because she knows she cannot defeat me, yes?" Ashley asked me.

I looked at Ashley, and I looked at the crate. With a slight grin, I grabbed the reciprocating saw, put on my goggles, and began chopping a hole in the lid. Eva was terribly deaf, and this was my way of reinforcing my affection for my sister-in-law. Caleigh understood her little sister better than I did, of course, but there had to be a see for those quiet moments since Eva can't hear when I ask "Are you OK?" Ashley beamed with pride and stood there looking so chic and girly in that outfit. She truly loved the secretarial trope so much that it became her standard style, and I felt a genuine goodness in her heart that assured me that this was the proper action to take.

"Janie, what are you doing to it?!" Eva watched in horror while I made a rough, rectangular cut.
"She is taking the first step towards me kidnapping you," Ashley said with confidence, "Kinky?"
"How did you know that's what I wanted?" my sister-in-law cowered at being seen, "Janie?"
"You two love each other more than you will admit," the French girl said with a brilliant smile.
"What will it take for you to kidnap me?" Eva finally decided to play the game the right way.
"I am your friend, my dear," Ashley took a seat on a chair, "Sit. We must talk kinks and limits."
"Kinks and limits? I don't know. I like so many things without cause," the student hid the truth.
"This is nonsense," the teacher retorted, "You are scarred and hurt, kinky by pain like us."

Oh, where to start, I thought to myself, The injury that caused her free rides to Division I schools to disappear because they were afraid she couldn't play volleyball after rupturing both of her ACLs at once? Losing her military aspirations because of her deafness? Being fired from a dream job as a paramedic because of her deafness, a violation of ADA laws? Maybe having her boyfriend dump her after 4 years together, finding out that for 2 years he had lost interest in her and only kept it up because he hadn't found a new girlfriend and liked pretending to r-pe her? I ran through the scenarios in my head. Her kinks always made sense to me. She has pain, but she doesn't realize it because she was misused rather than abused or assaulted. Of course, the thoughts were original, but Caleigh had the same thoughts and actually voiced them for us. The revelation made everything make sense to Eva, and Ashley nodded her head in understanding.

"It is all crystal clear to me, Eva," the French girl smiled, "You are like me. You like everything and dislike little. How do you feel about locking restraints, though? They are truly extreme."
"I would hate that. Except for a locking ball gag, I hate all locks. I don't like any specialty gags except ball gags, either. None of those rings or panel gags or anything like those things."
"Ah, Eva!" the teacher sprang the trap, "You do have limits. You just don't know them by name."
"Ashley!" Eva's eyes lit up, "You are such a smart person! How did you get to be this way?!"
"Because almost all of my friends and I have been hurt like you," Ashley frowned, "Or worse."
"They suffered even worse than I did," I candidly added to the discussion.
"How can I," the thought of worse suffering than mine hurt Eva, "Help you right now, Ashley?"
"By being a good student and trusting what I say so you can understand it's true," Ashley said.

That was the moment Eva made the hump onto Ashley's side. She realized that taking care of a captive wasn't a small matter because there was so much more to a person than a personality and a body. There was a past that brought each person to the present, written in them even if they'd hidden it in their personality or if it didn't directly reflect in them. Each person was unique with an unique set of traits, including kinks and limits. That's why Ashley and Eva loved breathplay but Caleigh and I hated it. Ashley loved locking restraints; Eva hated them. I loved my red rope most of all; Eva preferred tough classic brown rope; Caleigh and Ashley preferred clothesline.

Together, we made quick work of the crate, cutting up leftover plexiglass from some customer's furniture and turned the acrylic into a window about 2 feet square, perfectly laid into the wood while Ashley told us about a crate that she had used as captor and captive in modeling extremely intense bondage film scenes. That crate was purpose built, she explained, but this was sufficient for Ken, Janie, Eva, Caleigh, and I to use with each other, our friends, and our relations. We set it into place with wood and made it become a strong window between this world and that one. It was a small triumph with big repercussions, especially for me and my two sisters-in-law.

"I am proud of you, but this is only a beginning," Ashley explained succinctly, "Genuine desire."
"Will we get to test it with you?" Eva eagerly tested out the new lid on her own.
"Yes, we will test it out when we are ready to test it out, but I wish to ask you a question."
"Ummm, OK," Eva casually adjusted her bandana and sheepishly looked away while in the box.
"Do you understand why what Janie did to you is wrong?" Ashley was really prying deep now.
"Yes and no," my sister-in-law looked right at Ashley without any doubts, "I know why some of it was wrong, and I don't know why some other parts are wrong. You tell me."
"Let's try this," Ashley quietly clasped the lid so that Eva couldn't hear and to make a point.
"Hey, what's going on here?" Eva tried to push the lid off, but she couldn't, of course, "Ashley!"
"Suppose the place burned right now," the teacher said, "What would I do?"
"Either drag the box out with me in it or open it up," the now captive girl wisely replied.
"Suppose we left you in here, went to lunch, and the place burned."
"I'd," the Gangsta Bloom's face lost its color as she thought about it, "die in a shrieking panic, unable to get out, and then one or more of you would go to jail for manslaughter or murder."
"Yes, Evangeline," the captor nodded her head, "That's why abandonment games are bad."
"How do we make abandonment safe and fun?" the captive pressed further, determined to win.
"We can't. We can only create the illusion of it, but when properly done the illusion is as good as reality," the wisdom flowed from the humble, introspective French girl, "It's fun. We'll try it."

Ashley then opened the lid, satisfied with the lesson she had just taught, and helped Eva to stand up. With a mutual exchange of smiles, Eva acknowledged that she had learned her first lesson of the day, and that was when Caleigh, Eva, and I realized that we had a long way to go before we'd be half as capable as Ashley, although Caleigh did try to be careful in domination. Caleigh had a keen eye on the duffle bag which Ashley had brought with her, especially since it obviously was not Ashley's. I knew such things would have to wait, but it would be a pleasant surprise. Ashley and Eva both meticulously fixed their outfits to be the way they preferred them to be.

"I will kidnap you twice, on promise, to make my point. The first will be today. The second will be a day you do not expect. Understood?" Ashley seemed satisfied with her student's progress.

Ashley casually strode over to her bag and opened it. It was definitely the bag of bondage studio supplies because it was so full. She casually stuffed coils of blue paracord in her waistband for a very confident and professional look. With a confident stride and her heels clacking on the cold concrete floor, she approached Eva and immediately went to work. When she grabbed Eva with such ease, I knew I was outmatched. I always fight Eva tooth and nail to conquer her or for her to conquer me. Eva was a former volleyball star with a mean streak. I was a former softball star who set high school and collegiate slugging records. Ashley conquered Eva as easily as I might take Caleigh, who's strong but no match for either Eva or I unless she slew-foots us first.

"How the hell did you get to be so f- cking strong?!" Eva yelled in complete disbelief.
"The prison gym, since you asked," Ashley casually answered, binding Eva's wrists together.

I couldn't believe what I was watching, and Eva couldn't believe what she was experiencing. I'd never seen my sister-in-law so stunned by something, yet here she was with bound wrists and her elbows being bound with similar dominance. Ashley wasn't even a dominatrix, but she did give real lessons to people just because she was so good at this. I watched with amusement because I loved Eva enough to see the joy underneath her surprise. Her profanity said she was upset while her eyes said she was pleasantly surprised. By feeling alone, Ashley could tell what I could see.

"Caleigh, please," the captor smiled and turned to my old teammate, "Hold her for me."
"Certainly. Do you need to do something else?" Caleigh took Eva with a big grin on her face.
"Oui," our teacher grabbed her next piece of paracord, "I'm kidnapping Janie too, for sport."
"Huh?!" I had certainly not planned on being part of the demonstration and was easily grabbed.
"Evangeline is being kidnapped for demonstration; you are for fun," our friend reiterated.
"Yeah, take that big bad Indian princess!" Eva taunted me while my elbows were easily bound by the stronger, but shorter, young woman, "Rope her up really well because she's a beast."
"She's not much of a beast to me," Ashley humorously mused, cinching and knotting the rope.
"That's for sure," I grumbled, testing my new bondage and finding it to be extremely secure.

I'm not going into details, but since you know Eva and Ashley's outfits I'll share mine. I wore a pair of black jeans, red sneakers and socks, a red-and-black plaid long-sleeve button-up shirt, my split-color half-red/half-black bandana as a kerchief for that Gangsta Jock Cool Girl pizzazz, and red and black scrunchies to hold my butt-length hair in a braid. Soon, Eva and I were bound in a similar manner. The problem with Eva's jumpers is that crotch ropes are hard to tie unless that is somehow removed. Ashley, however, wanted lucid, not horny, students.

That's how we wound up with our arms tied at the wrists, forearms, and elbows, a quality chest harness, a tight waist rope, and our legs tied at our ankles, knees, and lower and upper thighs. It was a really good job; without scissors or helping each other, we weren't escaping the paracord. I hopped over to the bag at one point and saw rope in every color; Ashley picked the blue so that it would stand out against both of our outfits with equal flair. She went for theatrical and fun!

"Now, Caleigh, if Janie wished to stuff Eva in the crate, or Eva wished to stuff Janie in the crate, and lock the captive in there, what gag would they choose?" Ashley damned us both right there.
"Oh, someone's socks would certainly be stuffed in the captive's mouth," Caleigh damned us too.
"Mon dieu, please tell me the socks would at least be inveigled in something."
"Not necessarily, especially if Ken were the one doing the gagging," and my husband, Caleigh's big brother, got thrown under the Safety Bus in just as damning of fashion, "I'd personally pull a pillowcase over their heads first before stuffing their mouths or even use a ball gag."
"Thenk zee heavuhns," the accent was super thick and upset now, to the extent that I'll spell her speech as she said it, "At least zum-one here-uh has a func-shun-ing brain!"
"Well, Janie, let's face it," Eva shook her head, "We're master riggers, dangerous gaggers."
"I should say so," I blushed, "I'm actually relieved nothing bad has ever happened to us!"
"Mes chères," Ashley giggled, looking at us and pointing to Caleigh, "Learn from her, not each oh-ther. I am noht up-set with you, but bahl gahgs are zee safest way to go undehr loke and key."
"What about those bondage films where you stuffed your socks in those girl's mouths and locked them in those crates under the Florida sun?" Eva humbly asked her question, sincerely confused.
"Because of many things. I am a professional, and we had fail safes just in case of choking. We had panels on the lids of the crates so that we could access the face if needed. Two, those crates are modular, so they easily come apart if we twist a few simple dials. Three, that was theater and not reality, and I would not make my loved ones suffer like that for anything but cathartic art."

There was another reality at work here that deserves mention. Now, I am a Roman Catholic, and Ashley is so Roman Catholic she does tons of volunteer stuff at her church. Eva and Caleigh are Lutherans, so we're entering the moral grounds here. Ashley was an uncomfortable bisexual, and Caleigh was a comfortable bisexual. In short, Caleigh could see it in Ashley's eyes and asked for a quick, charged smooch. Ashley believed it was wrong, but she humored it. Caleigh believed it was OK, and she wanted it. So, right there, Ashley permitted Caleigh to take a brief smooch and to squeeze her chest a little. What an awkward moment it was, but Caleigh made it cute for both.

"Ah, my dear, enjoy it," Ashley giggled again, "I will not do that again because I believe it is not proper. But the feelings are so real, aren't they?" and with that Ashley playfully bopped Caleigh on the nose and changed topics, "Shall we create some CGC homemade ball gags, hmmm? We shall make something that I am sure will be quite embarrassing for our two straight girls."
"What are you thinking?" Caleigh asked in a playful tone, her curiosity satisfied.
"These," and Ashley held up two 2.5 inch orange rubber dog balls connected by a black ziptie.

A pair of ostentatiously hot pink bandanas were threaded through the holes of both rubber balls, and Eva and I took off hopping toward different parts of the woodshop. I went to the restrooms, and she went to the office. We realized that we were going to be double-gagged, our lips right at one with one another while we made a big drooly mess, likely while locked inside the crate. The strong French girl followed me with a careful clack of her heels until she easily pushed the door wide open and took me by the arms and effortlessly slung me across her shoulder.

I was led back to the crate and laid down in it before receiving my half of the double ball gag, a tight knot ensuring that I was not going to spit it out. Ashley casually squeezed my boobs, but it was a power move and not sexual in nature. Eva arrived, slung across Caleigh's shoulder with a barrage of profanity that I won't print before she was laid next to me and gagged with the other half of the homemade double ball gag. We were trapped in the box even without the lid on it.

"Now, this is a safe setup for putting the lid on the crate, but it is not safe for abandonment."
"OK, kemosabe, why isn't this safe for abandonment?" Caleigh wanted us to hear the answer.
"What if the woodshop burned to the ground? No, but it is perfect for abandonment," Ashley's words were hinting at a lesson, "Come, Caleigh, you, me, and Ken will get a pizza for lunch, but I will be buying today," the voices got softer in the distance, and then the lights turned off.
"Huh?! GMMMMMMMM!" Eva shook her head in surprise at this surprise… abandonment!
"Mmmmmmm!" I groaned, and the big ball gag instantly caused me to start drooling profusely.

I began struggling as best as I could, but paracord, I discovered, is much less forgiving than the clotheslines and ropes we usually used to tie up each other. I tried my best, but what I did was remind myself that I'd been kidnapped by a professional who was an actress in hardcore bondage films and who was paid to give lessons on safe and responsible bondage practice. I loved being so tightly and helplessly bound and gagged, but I let out a sigh, confused by the situation.

Eva worked up her own sweat and began drooling too, and we were trapped lip-to-lip like this. I couldn't twist my body to help her nor she to help me. This was genius bondage, and we looked up through the new plexiglass covered window into the darkness of the seemingly vacant, lonely workshop. How could Ashley chide us for playing abandonment games and then abandon us for a pizza break? I could tell Eva felt the right emotions because, crotch rope or not, she let out that distinctive squeal of pleasure and arched strongly enough that she squished me against the corner of the crate. We did not, however, have to worry about choking even if we burned alive at least.

"It was fun, no?" Ashley broke the silence, "Do you understand? Caleigh, turn on the lights."
"Gmmm mmmmm!" I looked up through the lid of the crate at the professional saboteur.
"But the pizza promise is true," our captor smiled, "My treat to celebrate our new friendship."
"That was so sneaky, Ashley, making it seem like we were leaving," Caleigh said happily.
"The real trick is making it convincing more than two times," the French girl blushed.
"Gmmmmmmmmm!" Eva and I protested in a hearty, energetic tandem.
"I think we should blindfold them," my sister-in-law then suggested to our demise.

Ashley stepped aside and allowed Caleigh, also known as Eva's older sister, Ken's younger sister, and my sister-in-law to neatly fold two green bandanas, to keep with the theme of loud contrasts in this strangely fun (in an innocent sense) bondage scene. Eva and I were completely unable to stop our sight from being robbed, and Eva tightly knotted the bandanas to ensure they couldn't be removed by any means except by being unknotted. With this paracord bondage, it wouldn't be us captives here in the crate, a crate whose lid was once again being tightly clasped shut, unknotting the blindfolds for certain. We were fully secure and humiliated by the double ball gag!

"GMMMMMMMM!" Eva struggled with strong motions and a lot of squirming.
"GMMMMMMMM!" my fight was much more controlled, focused on trying to actually escape.
"It is fine to blindfold them, and do you know why?" the teacher asked her students.
"Gughmmmph!" I groaned into the gag before Eva howled at me to be quiet and to listen.
"No, I don't. It just felt like it was safe though," Caleigh sheepishly admitted.
"Because they have their fingers available to give the safe sign," Ashley sweetly explained.

Ashley taught us many things that day, and she didn't go home until the end of the planned day of workshop activity (2PM). She made her promise, though, to one day return to the woodshop and kidnap me and/or Eva without any prior notice so that it would be a surprise start to finish. With a smile on her face and a handwritten list of our individual kinks and limits, Ashley went back to Mudville. With a new friend in our lives, Eva, Caleigh, Ken, and I went home.

[LunaDog]

Safety in bondage/TUGs just isn't discussed enough.

Good Point. Excellent idea for you to post this.

[AlexUSA3]

Part 4: Kidnapped for Humiliation
Monday, November 27, 2023

Eva and I had many conversations about looking forward to the day Ashley returned because we were both unaware of it. It was funny to see Eva make sure she wore all of her skirts on regular weekdays instead of jumpers because she wanted to receive a crotch rope from Ashley, as funny as that sounds. We both craved that moment in our ways, but I wasn't dressing for it because the disappointment of desire unfulfilled would lead to a BPD-triggered desire for my husband.

Of course, when the day came, neither of us expected it, but the thought of being truly captured by a girl stronger than me, a rare Cool Girl truly able to overpower me of all people, was really exciting. She was the only one; she had friends who could take me easily if they jumped me or who could take me in a wrestling match; Ashley was the only one who was guaranteed to win every single time. When that day came… how amazing it felt.

I can't say I dressed for the moment, but I sure had dressed for the weather. Post-Thanksgiving is a cold time in Minnetonka, and that's why I wore two pairs of socks with the flair being in how I wore them. I wore my green sweatpants, yellow long-sleeve t-shirt, and green kerchief bandana in homage to my high school team colors. The flair was because I wore yellow knee socks over my sweats, green crew socks over the knee socks, and then yellow sneakers over that. Gangsta Jock was in the house, and she even had a yellow sports bra and green panties. Yes, they matter in this story because Ashley was going to truly dominate from top to bottom. Stay tuned.

Luckily for Eva, Ken was co-conspirator in a sense, although his role was limited to betraying if Eva was wearing a jumper, a dress, or a skirt, as funny as it sounds. As luck would have it, Eva did fall into the trap in a different way. She wore her denim jumper that came to her ankles, but it had the straps like a pair of overalls. The dark green denim and dark brown turtleneck t-shirt were accompanied by dark brown knee socks for match and a lavender bandana headband for a punch of color that matched Eva's earthiness. Of course, she had her khaki combat boots, too.

Ken really masterfully planned this operation, making sure it was a Monday, the day which was a Monday his mother happened to have free time to watch the children. That meant that we could be as loud as was necessary. I stepped into the break room for a snack not knowing that Ashley's strong grip had been waiting for me or Eva to appear for nearly an hour. I entered the room with my usual aloofness, not expecting to feel the powerful grip of Ashley Calland kidnapping me.

"GMMMMMMMM!" I howled softly into a gag despite my desire to be as loud as possible.
"Shoosh, Missees Zhanie Rrrondell," the French girl whispered into my ear while she pushed this massive 3 inch ball gag into my mouth, intended to keep me subdued while she bound me, "I am here, zhust like I proh-meesed last month," her accent was fun, and I won't exaggerate it further.

Here I was, the big Gangsta Jock, the girl known as the one enlisted when people wanted to have a guarantee of a successful capture, and I was helpless while this Best Buy manager who stood 6 inches shorter than me crushed my arms together behind my back with bright orange paracord. I was completely embarrassed to be so easily dominated by a woman, yet she was doing it with the practiced ease of someone who was a real professional in the business. Even though she's a year older than I am, she still was incarcerated from when she was shy of 12 to when she was shy of 18. This is going to matter because Ashley was going to share her story with me and Eva.

Ashley effortlessly tied my arms above my elbows like only Ken or his younger brother could. I had never experienced such absolute domination at the hands of a solo woman, and there was no way I was going to escape it because the paracord bondage was perfect and professional. I had been captured by a woman who bound girls for bondage films, where failures were embarrassing for her. She couldn't fail in those situations, and as a result she became an excellent dominator. I was easily dropped to my knees with a push from behind, and Ashley casually sat down on me to untie my shoelaces so she could strip my feet of my sneakers and both pairs of socks.

"Janie, when I was little, I wanted to be an astronaut or a sailor," Ashley said wistfully.
"GMMMMMM!" I was still a little too agitated for conversation while having my feet stripped.
"I know it is hard to believe. My third wish was to be the first femme fatale to conquer the famous 24 Heures du Mans," she pulled my sneakers off and held one up to my nose, "Sniff."
"Nmm!" I turned my head away, feeling certain that olfactory torment was on the menu today.
"Funny. I came to America and fell in love with baseball instead," she smiled and continued her stripping of my feet before grabbing more orange paracord, "But I did become a sailor for real!"
"Hmmmm?" I struggled underneath her, still foolishly believing I had a chance while conversing.
"Yes, I have made many bondage films on boats, including ones where I was captain!" she kept her simple, almost flat, but glowing smile, "And I get to act in bondage scenes for money!"

Ashley was a simple but strong presence, but how feminine she is! I've never met someone who is more feminine than Ashley. Despite the cold, the strong young woman had red pumps, black thin knee socks, black pantyhose, a black denim knee skirt, a blue turtleneck t-shirt, and a red bandana headband. She looked more like a secretary than a store manager or a bondage diva. It was then that I felt a true connection to her, and the connection was going to strengthen soon. As she bound my ankles with the paracord, I slowly realized that any and all struggling only served to bring one or both of us some sort of personal satisfaction associated with the scene.

I squirmed, but Ashley effortlessly pulled my yellow knee socks over my arms before using that orange paracord to completely torque my arms with that calm strength. My arms were tied at my wrists and forearms and above my elbows. Each one was done with deliberate calm, and right at that moment I realized something devastating that made all I knew about Ashley come full circle in my mind: someone she once loved had hurt her. My prior experiences with Ashley were only at CGC "TUG Olympics," friends weddings, and occasional visits she made to my college to see my friends or that I made to visit friends at gatherings where she was present. I knew this way in the back of my mind, but I realized then that she, like me, was abused.

"You know how some call this a 'rope hug'?" Ashley asked me quietly, "I think I said it first."
"Ohhhh?" I asked despite the blobs of drool already flowing off the massive ball gag.
"Yes. I don't kidnap people solely for sport. I also do it so that I may love them on my terms," she said with remarkable quietude, "Bondage is about releasing control and emotions."
"Gmmmmph!" I struggled, but she was easily binding my legs on either side of my knees.
"Janie, to have the best experience, let go of your anxiety and worry, and focus your energy into that desire you have to resist me," she sighed, "I once resisted, Janie, and lost everything. Fight, but do not resist. Resistance is crushed; fighting," she choked a little, "gives you a chance."
"Mmmmmmm," I listened to her words, unaware of the depth, power, and wisdom of them.

Ashley effortlessly used the orange paracord to tie my legs together at my shins, mid thighs, and upper thighs. She even had a small piece she used to tie my big toes together, and with similarly easy domination she provided me with a sample of how she can delight her captives: triple crotch rope. One under my panties, one over my panties but under my pants, and one over my pants. It was the epitome of power like I'd never experienced, and the crotch ropes were all integrated into a waist rope that pinned my arms to my torso. Strangely, I felt entirely safe in her arms.

With a similar lack of effort, Ashley forced me to stand up, and she then led me out onto the cold concrete floor of the woodshop where she paused a moment to remove her pumps and socks and to put her pumps back on her feet, the use of socks and pantyhose being another example of how she planned every last detail to perfection while accepting the necessity of audibles in her plan. I watched helplessly as she motioned for my husband to call his younger sister, "Eva, I need you!"

"Watch me," Ashley quietly said to me before getting ready for Eva to exit the office.
"All right, Kenny, what's Janie doi-MMMPPHHH!" Eva came out and had her mouth stuffed full with Ashley's black knee socks, filling every crevice of her mouth, "MMMMMM!"
"Listen to me, my precious Evangeline. Today, I need this more than you," Ashley spoke with a soft, tender voice, "I decided to do this today because I wanted to be more vulnerable than you."
"GMMMMMM!" Eva instinctively resisted, but she could not stop the strong girl from using an orange bandana as a cleave gag to hold the socks in her mouth while Ashley bound her.
"No, no," Ashley cautioned, tightly knotting the bandana, "Fight. Do not resist. Trust me."
"NMM MMMMMM!" Eva squirmed, but lavender paracord bound her arms above her elbows.

With practiced polish, Ashley wrestled Eva to the cold concrete floor and bound her wrists just as well, and the French captor tied her captive's ankles together with the paracord, making sure that the rope wrapped into the heels of the combat boots. Another pair of bonds at either side of Eva's knees ensured that my sister-in-law was as helpless as I was. We were stuck, but we were in the embrace of someone who saw something to love in each of us. With a shriek of contempt from the captive, Ashley unbuckled the holsters of Eva's jumper and pulled the denim dress off of the strong girl. There was a playful glow in Eva's eyes, and she was applying the lessons that we had learned from Ashley. We were now playing Ashley's way but with our own unique style.

Eva, however, received only one tight crotch rope, right over her dark green panties, which also doubled as a waist rope pinning her arms to her torso. More of the lavender paracord bound her arms at the forearms and below her elbows, just like my arms were bound. Her legs were also bound at the shins, upper thighs, and middle thighs. We were helpless for sure, and Ashley had us stand side-by-side, again using that strength. What did Ashley mean when she said that "she wanted to be more vulnerable than us"? Was she saying that she needed healing, and that today she felt that by fulfilling this promise with us that she would be finding some healing for herself?

Yet Ashley didn't make me feel objectified when she exposed my boobs, pulling up my shirt and bra to expose me before tying a detailed harness that kept my shirt out of the way, restrained my arms, and made my bosom stand out. She somehow accomplished the same effect when she did the same thing to Eva, and only then did she unbuckle the ball gag and approach my mouth with my crew socks. I calmly opened my mouth and let her stuff my nasty, sweaty socks in there. A lavender bandana cleave gagged me, and I suddenly remembered my friend from college.

Clear tape was how Ashley finished our captivities, meeting us with the elements which gave us the most satisfaction. Six wraps of packing tape for an extra gag; six more wraps to hold one of my sneakers over our noses. I had to taste my feet; Eva had to taste Ashley's; but we both had to smell my own. It wasn't pleasant at all, but it was Ashley playing in our style. Red bandanas, a nod to Ashley's own bandana headband, blindfolded us in a completion of our bondage.

"Into the crate with you two, and then I will tell you why things must be this way," Ashley said in a kind, caring, and open tone that told me that she had her own story to share with us, and she effortlessly slung me over my shoulder and gently laid me in the box before laying Eva inside it beside me. As a show of the truth of her intention to talk, Eva retained her hearing aids even. I was curious what kind of story Ashley wished to share with us in this scenario.

"Oh," Ashley sighed while clasping the lid shut on the crate and sitting on top of it, "Where do I even begin? Janie, as you may have heard from my friends, I lost my parents the day I resisted; I resisted and lost everything. You see, I took a chance because I was young and desperate. Aunt Charlotte… I know this comes as a surprise given my sexuality, but she abused me. Repeatedly. Over many years. She told me if I resisted, that she would kill my parents. And she did. Right in front of 20 other people. Only then did I fight, but it was too late. I lost my world with all of my living family being back in France and I was an orphan far away in Minnesota. I fought, but I still reaped the bitter consequences, and that judge—that woman—said I was a monster since I used my aunt's own gun to stop her even mere seconds after she shot my mother and stabbed my father. I resisted, you see. If I had fought, there is a chance that my parents would be alive and my aunt would be in prison instead. That was my mistake. I had to learn how to fight because I had this one fellow inmate in prison who was dangerous, but I soon bench pressed more than her. I fought instead of resisting, and I won.

"When I was in prison, the Holy Spirit relentlessly pursued me, begging me to attend the weekly masses the priest offered, and I initially resisted… to my misery. I then fought myself and forced myself to go again, and I found spiritual reward even in my captivity. I made friends there, and I had people upon whom I could fall. I did not resist; I fought to keep their friendships even as I was slowly left alone while they all were released at the end of their sentences. I loved them and was determined to keep these loved ones in my life. And you know what? I won.

"After prison, I tried to go to college, but I was resisting my own mind. I was not right to be in a classroom. Yes, I had a perfect 4.0 that semester, but I hated it. Hence, I've spent over 8 years at Best Buy. When my friends first told me about bondage, it sounded so freeing. It was a thing in which fighting gave you a chance to survive, but mere resistance would lead to punishment. You resist by kicking at your captor and squirming while they tie you up, and you get spanked, poked, pinched, and so forth, or you can wait until they've tied you up and then fight the ropes hoping to escape. And this is one reason why I love appearing in the bondage films with my friends.

"In films, I have been spanked, tickled, suspected upside down, to my shame sexually assaulted, choked, smothered, forced to suck on socks, subjected to both heat torture and cold torture, and I have done some other things I cannot name. I regret some of it, but not other things. Through a lot of it, I found out that in the best TUGs, the captive has a louder voice than the captor, and the captor is truly in submission to the captive. I did this for you as much or more than for me.

"I will never again do some of those things. Years ago, I realized I was permitting myself to be a victim of fictionalized assault due to my fears, and I realized there was no reconciling sexual acts or crotch nudity with my faith. I live in a gray area, yes, but at least I feel like I am in control. It was hard to stop, but I was hurting myself. The captive needs to voice her concerns, and shifts in her limits must be accepted. I still sometimes hear that judge calling me an 11 year old monster.

"Monsters cannot do what I have done. Monsters cannot overcome prison like me. Monsters are not capable of sitting on this crate and admiring their friends. Monsters cannot respect limits like we do. That is why I chose a white bandana when I was allowed to wear one in prison. I wanted to look like my friends, and they told me I was pure despite what others said even if I was scared and lonely. They proved to me that they were right, and without them I would be dead drunk in a strange place, likely in the middle of an affair. They taught me how to find my limits and to love others by respecting their limits. Bondage helped to gain control and to respect control. It taught me how to serve and to be served. It taught me how to trust and to be trusted. It taught me that I had a disordered mindset towards my own body and helped to modify my self-image."

What was I hearing? It was part confession, part discourse, part biography, and fully human. I'd never met someone who suffered like that, but she overcame the past to be where she was, sitting atop the crate. It doesn't embarrass me to say I was crying while listening to her terrible tale. I'd suffered so much and overcome my own mistakes to be where I was as well, and so had Eva. To make the mistakes Eva and I had made with abandonment danger now made sense to me because I was thinking differently. I graduated with a 4.0 myself despite arriving at Minnesota Tech just a couple of days before my 17th birthday. And, despite being 17, I still set softball records both at the university level and at the conference level. Ashley was a prodigy, too. It was time for me to switch places with Ashley, but first I will tell you about the bondage and the crate experience.

The paracord was definitely much tighter and more restrictive than the clothesline and rope that I normally experienced with my husband, in-laws, siblings, and friends. It stretched a little before it pulled back against you with a vengeance. Struggling against the paracord left you with nasty red marks if you weren't careful, which meant cold weather was the ideal time to use it. I felt an unique passion for it, though, and felt it would probably shine as the material used when Ken and I wanted to play out a scene that was more intense. Of course, you know that dirty sock gags are a favorite around her, so I don't need to talk about that. I also liked this "new and improved" box a lot more than the original version. It took us 3 or 4 years to learn this. Thank you, Ashley!

"Gmmmmm!" I then gave three snaps of my fingers, the signal for non-emergency gag removal.
"Is that so, Janie? A shame," Ashley's tone was playful, "Weren't you enjoying your socks?"
"GMMMM!" Eva instinctively kicked the crate BAM!………… BAM!………… BAM!
"Ah, my friends—May I call you my friends?—you are good, fun girls," Ashley opened the lid.
"Mmmmm!" my socks had a wretched but strangely arousing flavor, and my shoes smelled bad.
"GMMMMMM!" Eva, I forgot to mention, was routinely orgasming from her own arousal.
"Somehow, those sounds are delightful," Ashley, I felt certain, was smiling as she said that.

The decision to pull my blindfold down to my neck felt like a sort of power move by the cordial, congenial French girl. She sweetly unwrapped the tape, more carefully than any other time I had ever had tape removed from my face following a TUG, even by my own hands! How could one person be so tender and careful with a captive? It's easy to be careful and caring, but Ashley had an unforgettable loving sweetness even just in unpeeling tape from my face. That required there be something special in the heart of the person, and I already had witnessed that firsthand. While she unpeeled the tape, Ashley told me some of the few things I already knew, like all the ways in which she helped at her own church. She was a much better person than I was.

"Blegh!" I spat out the socks after the bandana was unknotted, "Thank you, Ashley."
"But you are aroused, my dear, and a little agitated… physically not mentally. Would you like me to gag you with my hand and help you to end that burn in your crotch?" she asked me kindly.
"Would you please?" I felt like I could trust her, "Touch me in anyway necessary to get me off."
"Janie?" Ashley looked at me in surprise, telling me someone had talked to her about my past in a big enough way to know I normally don't say such things, "I'm touched by your trust in me."
"I'll be the one touched, you mean," I grinned, "Get on with it, Ashley. I'm waimmmmmmph!"
"Your wish is my command," she purred into my ear in a sensual yet caring manner.

I'm not going to talk about the orgasm itself. I'm going to talk about the experience that led me to orgasm. Ashley's one hand held my socks in my mouth while her other hand explored every inch of my more private regions, expertly feeling each twitch I made and figuring which twitches were subtly stronger than the others, identifying those spots as more sensitive. She was far from mechanical about it, but she wasn't erotic either despite her sexuality. It was gentle, caring, and a little mischievous even. I felt like fighting her was the smartest thing I could do then, and I was fighting her to the best of my ability until I let out the best orgasm I'd ever experienced at any girl's hands. I will never forget that surge, burn, and release. Ashley Calland, thank you.

"Ashley, that… that was… incredible," I gasped for air after she took my socks out of my mouth.
"You are very welcome!" she was quite satisfied with herself, "I had fun doing it for you."
"You're smiling," I took more deep breaths, "You haven't… smiled like… that… all day."
"I can tell you're a girl who does not peak too easily," Ashley sweetly remarked, "Would you…?"
"Like another? Oh, my," my lungs were heaving from the experience, "That'd be amazing…"
"But you are afraid of it taking too much. I am asking you to trust me, my friend."
"Go for it," I gave her a sly grin, "I do trust you, and I know I'd lov-mmmmmph!"

The big ball gag, the 3 inch gag that had been my first gag, filled my mouth once again, this time doing so to my delight. And Ashley set to work doing the impossible: making me orgasm with a 6 minute interval. Not even Ken could do that, but Ashley was perfectly in tune with me and had a genuinely professional grip on this. She knew how to get me to that point by finding every one of my most sensitive points, and she gave me an experience like no other girl I knew. I definitely give some of the credit to the paracord and how powerless it made me feel while feeling safe.

"OK, I owe Evangeline some intense pleasure too," Ashley smiled while I again panted.
"Thank you," I leaned back into the crate again, glad to have the gag removed, "Thank you."
"Come to me, my friend," the French girl helped Eva to sit up, "Your first and last name are also very French? Tell me, mon amie, does your family go back to those 17th-century fur trappers?"
"Mmm hmmm," Eva nodded, still blindfolded and gagged with Ashley's socks.
"I will make this unforgettable. Remember to fight, not resist," the captor said to the captive.
Eva took a deep breath and started fighting despite the awkwardness of Ashley also being in the crate with us. Fighting indeed brought more rewards, and I realized how some of my friends got better experiences out of squirming during games. They weren't squirming to earn spanks; they were fighting as if they truly believed they could escape the ropes if they tried hard enough. Resistance only brought punishment; fighting brought punishment and satisfaction. Never in my nearly 6 years of loving Ken had I heard Eva yell so loudly during an orgasm, but I'd also never heard her sound so happy to be orgasming. She practically collapsed from that one despite being one of those girls who can have nearly continuous orgasms mere seconds apart. The next wail was also loud, but it was happy. Ashley was also happy; we had become true friends.

"Ashley, may I talk to you as… as friends?" I asked, still a little exhausted, and the friendly nod I received while she propped Eva to be sitting alongside me told me that I had her full attention at the moment. I began, "I think you remember what happened to me that final semester of school when the… the… frat boys took me to the cleaners. I know you do. You video chatted with me and prayed with me right there on the call. You shared with me your past. Now I share mine.

"My mom never wanted me. She wanted to have a son and a daughter. I was the second girl, but she wanted to have an abortion. Badly. But neither my father nor his family nor her family were approving of that, and she knew there'd be incredible backlash if she went ahead with such a vile thing and had me. But she never loved me. I never had as nice of birthday parties as my siblings if she even acknowledged my birthday. I would get fewer presents at Christmas. Dad loved me though, and my siblings adored me. They made sure I was treated the same even though I knew it wasn't that way. Look at my hair, Ashley. Do you see my hair? Study it closely."

"I see hair that reaches so long far down your back that it has stopped growing. It is jet black, so beautiful that I see it," she closed her eyes, "It is too long for a reason. The braid obscures some of the beauty and turns it into a personal expression. This is why everyone says you are a Native princess; it's not just because you are a Native American. It is because your hair is like princess hair. You like princess movies. How young were you when your mother," Ashley saw through me as if my thoughts were on a signboard in front of her, and she paused, "cut it all off?"

"I was six. I had never had a hair cut, and I got into a fight with my sister. Mom grabbed me by the hair because my love for it was well-known in our home even then. She dragged me straight into the bathroom, screaming at me the entire time and telling me what a horrible child and sister I was. Right there, with me crying, she took my hair, which I still remember was held back by a pretty sparkly pink scrunchie, and cut it to shoulder length. I never cried so much in my life, and the die was cast that day. Mom never came to anything where I received an award unless one of my siblings was also receiving an award. Even then I never got congratulations. I never got one compliment from her except my report cards, except I was placed two years ahead and handing my big brother his rear in every last class we took together. But he loved it. You know my older sister, but in reality no one loves me more than my big brother. He loved being destroyed, and he tried to tie me up one time in hopes of merely completing an assignment before I did. That's how we discovered TUGs years before we knew the CGC. Too bad for him I'd already finished that assignment. Mom… never loved me… and she eventually drove me away for good."

"Janie," Ashley sighed and looked at me, "I'm sorry. It's no wonder that Eva has become such an important part of your life. You found in her a person who shares your physical strength but has a similar love of that softer side. Yours was crushed all those years, and when you married Ken you felt free to let that side bloom again. That is why you call her 'Gangsta Bloom', yes? You're a survivor, Janie. Your mother tried to squish you. The frat boys used you. You turned to God in it all, and he provided you with the right people at the right time to get through everything. I wish… Janie, please, may I call you two my friends? I believe once we get past this harsh side of things and learn how we process our experiences, we will be very precious to one another."

"Would you do me a favor then?" I asked Ashley in a cutesy tone, "Eva wants more orgasms."
"You know how to transition from the sad stuff to the happy stuff very well," Ashley smiled.
"Yes, I would love to have a second bisexual Ashley in my life," I wiggled my eyebrows.
"You know another Ashley?" the captor asked me with a look of mild surprise.
"Yeah, one of my two best friends from high school. We still text each other at least weekly."
"That is so sweet. Yes," Ashley's smile returned, "I will resume making my friend happy."

"Oh, my God!" Eva gasped some 2 dozen orgasms later after she was allowed to talk and speak again, "That was the best orgasm ever," she panted and took deep breaths, "I wish you could do that to me for two hours," she then collapsed on her back and took more of the heavy breaths.
"I would gladly do that some other time, but it must be a kidnapping, my dear," Ashley teased.
"I wouldn't want it," my sister-in-law struggled to speak, "any other way."

That's the story of how we included Ashley Calland among our friends. Sure, she lived a slight distance from us, but she became someone with whom we shared everything albeit in unique and unusual flavors: trauma, strength, faith, and TUGs. The French girl had plenty of friends, yet she still desired to call us her friends. How much more could we want?

[Ropesworn]

I'm happy to see a good educational story. Peaked my interest in the first chapter and followed up with a characters remorse and lessons. I'm glad it ended well and that it can still be a lesson well learned.
It's important to realize the difference between fantasy and reality and how one can safely translate a fantasy into a scene/game. I like that you discuss it and present solutions for this scenario as a professional dom. I'd be happy to read about different tug topics as well, like risk of damaging nerves for instance is something I haven't read about here?