Rebecca’s Teenage Dream (F/f) part 2 done.

[suedenym]

Chloe should have seen the signs. When her daughter Rebecca first played blindman’s buff she took to walking round the house with a scarf over her eyes. Then hopping round the house, a belt or ribbon tied round her ankles. Or putting tape over her mouth to be “quiet for mummy”. Her favourite episodes of Scooby Doo were the ones Daphne was tied up in and she would watch them repeatedly. And her Nancy Drew adventure books , with the corners of the pages with tie up scenes all turned down.

The realisation struck Chloe like a dropped pan—sudden and clanging—as she knelt beside Rebecca’s bed sorting laundry. There, tucked beneath the pillow: three lengths of silky cord, neatly coiled. The colours—scarlet, cobalt, gold—glowed against white cotton like warning flares. Chloe’s fingers trembled brushing them. When had Rebecca even *gotten* these?

Downstairs, Rebecca’s voice floated from the living room, bright and unconcerned. "Velma, don’t be such a scaredy-cat!" Another Daphne-in-peril episode, then. Chloe stood frozen in the hallway, cords clenched in her fist. She pictured her daughter’s small hands practising knots with fierce concentration, the same focus she gave maths homework. The scarf-blindfolds, the hopping games—they weren’t quirks. They were rehearsals.

Chloe found her leaning against the sofa, eyes fixed on the screen where Daphne squirmed in a net. Rebecca’s own ankles were crossed, a hair ribbon loosely looped around them, her toes curling and wiggling. "Sweetheart," Chloe began, voice too tight. Rebecca glanced up, smile fading at her mother’s expression.

“Yes Mum?”

“You still serious about the handcuffs? You dont want concert tickets, or clothes?”

“Yeah, the handcuffs.” Rebecca twisted the hair ribbon tighter around her ankles. The ribbon dug into her skin, leaving faint pink ridges. She didn't seem to notice. Her gaze drifted back to the screen where Daphne was being lowered into a pit. Chloe knew the oneks she meant. Not giys, not pink and fuzzy, not plastic. Solid stainless steel with kets. Double locking mechanism.

Later that week when Chloe was off shift, and Rebecca was at school, she clinbed the ladder to the loft and retrieved a dusty box. In the privacy of her own bedroom she sat crosslegged on the bed looking at the contents: leather cuffs, metal cuffs, ball gag, blindfolds. When had she last used these? When she discovered she was pregnant. Was this the reason her little Becca was so obsessed? A thiught struck her: was she chained to the bed, blindfolded and gagged at the moment Rebecca “began”? Had she caused this in her daughter?

Chloe’s fingers traced the cold steel of the handcuffs. They felt heavier than she remembered. She pictured Rebecca’s small hands holding them, clicking them shut around her own wrists with that same intense focus she’d seen during homework. The image made her stomach clench and her heart fluttervat the same time. Was it curiosity? A phase? Or something deeper, something she’d unknowingly passed on like a twisted heirloom?

She took the larger handcuffs and played with them a little. Rolling the leg of her black joggers up she clicked the steel around and the feelings came flooding back. Ahe knew instantly why Bex was doing this to herself. She quickly lovked the cuff on her oposite ankle and double locked them. Grabbing the ball gag she opened her mouth and bit diwn kn the red ball, fastening yhe buckle behind her head. She checked the clock. Fumbling she set an alarm on her phone. Grabbing a second set of cuffs she reached behind her back. The ratchet sound bringing in memories. Struggling with nerves and excitement she double lockd the cuffs. Kicked yhe box onto the floor. Clutching yhe keys in yhe palm of her hand she struggled to sit up, looking at herself in the mirror: shoulders pulled back, chest girward, jaw stretched, a big red ball wherevher mouth shiukd be, white teeth biting yhe edges. She kicked her feet, bound together.

Fourty delightful minutes kicking and struggling, drooling, moaning, struggling before she had to be respectable mim againHer release literally in the palm of her hand as she enjoys the feelingbof restraint for the first time in thirteen years.

Saturday morning came round and Chloe was awoken by a newly mayured teenager jumping on her bed in her tartan pyjamas singing “Happy Birthday To Me”. Agter a quick hug and best wishes there was an uncomfortable silence before Chloe reached under the bed and produced a wrapped package. As she tore the paper off revealing an unmarked plain brown package her Rebecca’s enthusiasm grew tearing at the cardboard before staring ath the shiny metal objects. “Three?”

“We need to talk first.”

“Thank you mum. You’re the best mum ever.” And Chloe’s attemlts to talk sense were smothered in hugs and kisses.

“Look we have to talk.” She held the keys up with one pair of cuffs for her daughter to see as she demonstrated the double lock safety mechanism. “Give me yiur wrist.”

Rebecca held out her right hand and gelt the thrill a she felt the cold steel, heard the click, feltbthe weight. She watched as her mother again demonstrated the double lock, pressing yhe cuffs demonstrating it would nit tughten further. Immediately Rebecca span round holding her hands behind her back as he mother tightened and double locked her left wrist cuff.

She tested the cuffs. “That feels great mum. But what are the kther cuffs for?”

“Guve me yiur feet Bex!” Chloe once again tightened and double locked the slightly larger pair of cuffs on her daughter’s ankles pausing to tickle her soles to ‘test the security.”

“That feels great mum but what’s the third pair for?”

“Oh various uses. Cuff yiur ankle to the vhair leg so you can’t hop,off. Tie your ankles to yiur wrists. But in this case.” Chloe pulled Bex’s arms together and added cuffs just abive her elbows. “It dtops you slipping your hands under your num and feet.

“Oooh. That’s mean.” Bex replied.

“Well a couple more things.” Chloe reached the fraw beside her bed and pulled out a clean white sock and roll lf tape.

“MUM! Mmpphh.” Once Bex was securely gagged, Chloe produced a velvetty black sleep mask and slipped in iver her daughter’s eyes.

“It’s 2pm you’re meeting your friends for the cinema then meal out, so plenty of time for sleep.” With that Chloe turned off her bedside light and turning iver pulled the divet around herself, trying go ignore the frantic struggling and moaning behind her.

Rebecca strained against the cuffs binding her elbows behind her back, the metal biting pleasantly into her skin. She arched her spine, testing the limits, feeling the delicious stretch of muscles as the ankle cuffs kept her legs pinned together. A muffled laugh escaped around the sock gag—pure, giddy exhilaration. This was better than Scooby-Doo, better than Nancy Drew. This was *real*. She rolled onto her side, the bedsprings creaking softly, and tried rocking back and forth. The elbow cuffs held firm, anchoring her arms uselessly against her back. Every tug sent a shiver up her spine.

Beside her, Chloe lay rigid under the duvet, eyes squeezed shut. Each frantic shuffle, each muffled grunt from Rebecca vibrated through the mattress. The sounds were familiar—too familiar. They echoed her own muffled moans from earlier in the week, the desperate, joyful struggle against steel. She pulled the pillow over her head, but it couldn’t drown out the rustling sheets or the sharp *click-click* as Rebecca tested the strength of the cuffs again.

Rebecca twisted violently, throwing her weight sideways. The bed frame groaned in protest. Sweat dampened the blindfold against her eyelids. She strained her wrists downward, seeking slack, but the elbow cuffs held her arms high and immobile. A frustrated, exhilarated sound hummed in her throat around the sock. She kicked her bound ankles—*thump-thump-thump* against the mattress.

The vibrations jolted Chloe. She clutched the duvet tighter. Rebecca’s muffled sounds weren't just struggle; they were *happy*. They echoed Chloe's own choked gasps against the ball gag days earlier—the sheer, desperate thrill of helplessness. She squeezed her eyes shut. Every frantic movement beside her felt like a revisitatation of her own teenaged self bindage adventures. Eventually she could not take it any konger.

“OK Miss Drew. Someone needs breakfast and I need coffee.”

Chloe threw back the covers, her movements brisk. She grabbed Rebecca’s bound elbows and hauled her sideways across the mattress like a rolled-up carpet. Rebecca squealed into her gag, kicking futilely as her mother scooped her up, and threw her over her shoulder. Chloe carried her down the hallway and down yhe stairs, Rebecca’s muffled giggles vibrating against her shoulder.
Fumping her in a kitchen chair she qhickly unfastened then recuffed one elbow, chaining her to the back of the chair before switching the coffe maker on and startingbto fry breakfast birthday pancakes.

[Jenny_1972]

If this story had a 'like' button I'd press it.

[TuggyBoundMale]

Great story. I really enjoyed it a lot

[Boundgirl09]

I like it

[greg94]

A really cool story. It would be nice to read more adventures (and thoughts) of Chloe and Rebecca

[suedenym]

itbwas justbafter 9pm when Chloe and Bex came back from the bitthday celebration. Bex had gine with fiurvfriends to tye cinema dor the latest teen advesture film and yhen onto the plish restaurant formgrown jp,meal (no Burger Bar). So to make the occasion, Bex was wearing red blouse, black mini skirt, black tights and flats whilstbher mum had red dress, tan tights and heels, which she kicked off on entering the front door, padding through to,the lounge.

“Mum?”

“Yes birthday girl”

“Can i use the handcuffs again?” Chloe looked at the clock. It certainly wasn’t late.

“OK kiddo. Go,yo,thenloo then come back with the stuff.” As he daughter gallopped upstairs, Chloe wnt tomtye kitchen and ooured a large glass of wine dor her self. Wlaking back to tye lounge, she saw her daughter sittingbvrosslegged, with no shies but a huge grin!

“OK. Ill,showmyou ankyher use for three pairs kf cuffs. Hands behind yiur back.” Bex complied with the request as her mum locked her hands behind her back, double locking for security and safety. “Feet next.” Carefully closing one silber cuff around each black nylon covered ankle.

On e secured she helped Bex roll,onto her front and bent her knees up, then using the thrird pair of cuffs , attached the chain link from her wrists to her ankles, so her heels nearly rouched her bittom.

“Comfy?”

“Yes Mum.”

“It won’t be after a few hours.” She grinned. Leaning closer to Bex’s face she ordered “open up.” And stuffed a balled up,scarf into her daughters mouth, tying a sexond around her head and between her teeth. “Ahhhh oeave at kast.” She joked bedore slipping a sleep mask blindfold over her eyes, sevuring the velcro behind her head , under her hair.

Sitting up on yhe sofa, Chloe put her feet up on the coffe table and took a sip,of wine whilst flickin*byhe TV on and catching up on her soaps.

Bex shifted uncomfortably on the carpet, the nylon of her tights rasping against the rug as she tested her bonds. The metal cuffs dug into her wrists whenever she tried to straighten her legs even slightly. A muffled grunt escaped around the scarf gag—part frustration, part amusement. She could hear the exaggerated sighs and dramatic music from her mum's show, the sounds sharp against the silence of their dimly lit lounge.

Chloe glanced down, swirling her wineglass absently. "Forgot how quiet you are like this," she remarked, looking back at the screen. A commercial break flashed bright colors across the room, briefly illuminating Bex’s bound form curled like a pretzel on the floor. The velvet sleep mask hid her expression, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her focus—not on discomfort now, but on the strange thrill of helplessness.

Bex didn’t struggle. Instead, she tested the limits with methodical precision. Her fingers flexed behind her back, tracing the cold steel links connecting wrists to ankles. Each knuckle bent and straightened, confirming sensation remained despite the tight cuffs. Her toes curled inside the black tights, pressing against the nylon fabric stretched taut over her soles. A subtle shift of her hips followed, testing the friction against the rug.

Chloe’s gaze drifted from the TV screen to her daughter’s stillness. The wineglass paused halfway to her lips. The quiet intensity in Bex’s submission—the deliberate stillness—stirred something deep in her own chest. She remembered her fexperiences of handcuffs, used for fun and later in love making. The cool bite of metal on her own wrists. The muffled silence of a scarf gag. The surrender.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. She recalled a rainy Tuesday years ago—her own best friends grin as she tightened the rooesm round her wrists, her hands behind a dining chair. "For your own safety," she’d joked after Chloe had discovered she was datingbyhe same boy as Sophie. The helplessness had been terrifying. Exhilarating. A forbidden thrill that lingered long after the ropes came off.

The memory sharpened. She could almost feel the coarse hemp biting into her skin, the frantic pulse in her throat as she’d struggled uselessly. The muffled laughter echoing in that cramped bedroom as sophies fingers scraped accross her bare soles, her ankles bound to the frontblegs. That blend of panic and surrender had become a secret craving, later explored with partners under dimmed lights—the cold kiss of steel cuffs, the sudden silence of a gag, the delicious vulnerability of complete restraint.

Bex shifted again, a soft whimper escaping the scarf gag. Chloe was dragged back to,the present as she watched her daughter’s bound ankles flex against the chain linking them to her wrists, The nylon tights whispering against the rug. There was no fear in Bex’s stillness now—only focused intensity, like an athlete testing their limits. Her breathing remained steady, deliberate.

Chloe’s first programme finished and she called down yo Bex. “OK there.”

A nod and a grunt confirmed Bex was good.

Chloe clicked through the channels then saw it. “The Taking of Alive Creed”. Why this one? Why now ? But she was mesmerised. She looked from her own daugter struggling on the floor to Jenifer Attertin, tied slepreadeagled on the bed, bal gagged hooded, flies crawling kvervger bare feet. She peessed her own legs tigether on the ciffee tabble, held her hands behind her back locking her fingers together. She wiggled her toes and wriggled side to side imagining she was tied up as she watched “Alice” chained by her neck, hands cuffed behind her, struggling gomeeach the keys.

She could stand it no longer and switched the tv off, swilled the lastbif her wine and set anout uncufging Rebecca.

“Time for bed sweetie.” She paused “but pop into my room before you switch hiur lightes out.”

[JustLooking]

This is really good, though possibly without the drooling lol. Love the Scooby references, Daphne lives her best life!

[TuggyBoundMale]

Amazing! Just as the first chapter

[Takitaki]

Great story till now, waiting for next part

[Dpsiic]

Great story, looking forward to the next installment. Loved the references to Bex' black tights

[CarouselCowboy13]

Very Nice and Awesome Story