Momma and Me 2: Momma's First Kidnapping (F/FF)
Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2025 7:03 pm
Momma and Me 2: Momma’s First Kidnapping
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
I’ll never forget telling Momma about TUGs for the very first time. When I told her more and more, she acquiesced, and during both Fall Break and Thanksgiving Break I taught her the ways of the game so she could tie me up anytime we both were up to playing. I taught her how to use scarves, rope, bandanas, zip ties, and duct tape during that first semester of my freshman year of college and the winter break between the Fall and Winter terms.
“Very stylish, Miss Räänta,” Bridget said to me with a smile, “You look so pretty and Russian.”
“Awww,” I quietly blushed and knotted my split blue and white kerchief bandana, “Thank you.”
“Sammy,” my friend continued and watched me play with my braid, “I’m glad we're friends.”
“You mean that?” I am now beet red and hug her, “Bridgie, I’m also glad we're friends.”
“You're so sweet! I love you, Gangsta Row,” she returns the embrace and cuddles me.
“Every moment with you is always a great blessing.”
When I was a high school freshman at the local rowing club, Bridget was a senior. When I was a college freshman studying meteorology via a rowing scholarship at Minnesota Tech, Bridget was a college senior studying meteorology via a rowing scholarship at Minnesota Tech. However, we are very different. She is a 5’4” platinum blonde of Norwegian and Swedish ancestry; I’m a 5’9” pale blonde with mixed brown streaks of Russian and Finnish ancestry.
Bridget’s hair is long and free; my hair is long and hidden in a simple braid. Both of us dress for our own privacy and comfort, but we both make a little splash in our own ways. Bridget wears a pair of cowboy boots with her blue jeans, a purple and pink plaid long-sleeve button-up shirt, and I wear a pair of canvas sneakers with my blue jeans, a white long-sleeve turtleneck t-shirt, a blue short-sleeve t-shirt over that, and a split color blue-and-white kerchief bandana in a cute Western paisley. Bridget has a purple bandana around her neck in cowboy style, also with the flower.
At the start of the semester, the weekend before orientation, Bridget introduced me to the friends she loved so much, the Cool Girls’ Club, or CGC for short. These friends gathered out of love in order to encourage and support each other, revel in friendship, and play tie up games, or TUGs, a game which I didn't know Bridget had been witnessing since she was just 5 years old and playing since she was 7. The Friday night before orientation, I was inducted into this Club.
We exchange a hug. That's special because I only hug those people who are really close to me; I love Bridget more than most of my friends. She has expanded my friendship circle in a massive way by introducing me to the Cool Girls’ Club. Now I am a Cool Girl with my own nickname in the Club. Gangsta Row somehow suits me because I can be as cold as a gangster. We walk and talk and proceed towards the living room where I am planning to jump Bridget to kidnap her.
“I did not know anyone was home,” I hear Momma’s voice say behind us, “This is robbery.”
“Who are you?” I play along and turn to see Momma holding a squirt gun and a scarf mask.
“I am bandit. I will have to bind and gag you two. Sit on chairs,” she motions to the kitchen.
“I understand,” I say quietly and fearfully, “My friend will cooperate. Won’t you?”
“Y-y-yeah,” Bridget plays her own kind of anxiety, “I don't want to die from a bullet hole.”
“Sit. Take off your shoes and socks. Exchange one sock. Put socks in your mouths.”
We do as Momma says. We sit down on the chairs and take off our shoes and our socks. Then we exchange one sock so we both have one Bridget sock and one Sammy sock. We put the pair of socks in our mouths, and Momma uses zip ties to secure my arms behind my back. They are thin zips, so up my flexible arms are about 9 of them, and then she zips them again around the spindles that form the chair’s back. Momma holds the socks in my mouth with a black bandana and wraps my face in eight layers of clear tape. It is a firm gag from which there is no escape.
Then, it is Bridget’s turn. Bridget’s arms are zipped to the sides of the back of the chair as well as mine, but she is shorter, which means 9 zips goes up to her armpits. She also gets the black bandana cleave gag and eight layers of clear tape. We look at each other and know we're trapped here as long as Momma wants to keep us here; what a loving embrace to trap us though!
Then Momma secured our legs to the legs of the chair, using 8 zips on me and 7 on Bridget. The zips are per leg, to be clear. She then used the longer, wider zips to secure our torsos to the back of the chair, going between the sides of the chair and the spindles. For me, this bound my arms to the chair a second time. She really crushed me to this chair without any mercy for me. Yes, I taught her so well. It's amazing to feel this strange loving embrace that is unique to CGC TUGs.
“Gm! MMPH!” I grunt in my attempt to struggle against my bonds, but they're stronger than I.
“Mmm mmmmmmm!” Bridget's efforts are a similar waste of energy.
“You waste your energy. You cannot escape,” Momma taunts us with a shake of her head.
Well that did it. We were tied up by a stranger in my own home, a masked bandit with a Russian accent. She had taken us by surprise, and now we were bound and gagged. The bandana and the tape held the two socks in my mouth with great efficacy, and I laughed at the bemused Bridget. My friend had been kidnapped many times as part of literally hundreds or thousands of games in her life, but never had she been taken by a parental figure.
I am really zipped to the chair; there is no getting away. My movements move the chair over the floor like a skater on ice. Momma, always one to make games harder for me, moves both of us to the living room carpet where our struggles can only shake the chair around and not allow us to scoot around. Yes, Momma, you are a fantastic kidnapper, and I love you very much.
Bridget tries to move, but she is as one with the chair. Too bad these aren’t arm chairs since that would make for an interesting fixture for tying us up. Alas, we don’t have arm chairs and aren’t about to get such chairs any time soon. I have to be content with the present. I blink at Bridget, a girl who is very surprised by what has taken place. Her wide eyes keep moving between me, my mother, and our bands. She is taking a long time to come to grips with the reality of it all.
“It is funny sight, but I make this look better soon,” Momma takes a piece of double-sided tape.
“Mmmmmm!” I groan when she applies the strip over my lips.
“Much better,” she ties a red bandana, folded into a band, as an OTM gag over the tape.
“Gmmph!” Bridget gets the tape on her lips next, and she thrashes around.
“This is not good,” Momma OTM gags her the same way, “I punish you for this.”
“Nooooooooo!” Bridget is quickly blindfolded with a pink bandana.
That was a quick turn of events. Bridget earned herself that particular punishment. It’s about to get worse, though, because Momma grabs my sneakers, my smelly canvas shoes that I wear any time I am planning on neither working nor going to the gym. Momma looks so much like me in the mask because it hides that she is in her mid 40s while I am just 18. Her hair’s never tied in a braid like mine, though, and she has a much more dignified air. Those ladies had to be tough as nails in order to survive the Soviet Union! I never got spanked because I lovingly fear her.
I love zip ties. Some call them “plastic devils,” and I tend to agree that they kind of can be little plastic devils if you don’t use them properly. Safety in numbers, and Momma had overkill down to a science. She was a woman of few but profound words and she of many but profound zips in which she tied up her only daughter. Momma, I am certainly your prisoner, and I am not getting out of this without your assistance. How I love being your captive.
“This is no ordinary can of peas,” she puts the ordinary can of peas down on the floor.
“Hmmm?” I look at her quizzically, not understanding what kind of game she is now playing.
“This is bomb. In 30 minutes, with you still trapped, it will explode. BOOM!” she motions.
“No!” I shake my head and struggle, leaching my and Bridget’s flavors onto my tongue, “Yuck!”
“You will go to pieces, you and your friend. Goodbye,” she sets a timer.
“Mmmmmm!” I am finally blindfolded with a bright green bandana.
I never knew Green Giant produced explosive cans of peas until just now. What a way to expand a business portfolio! I joke, of course, but I admire Momma’s creativity. She taunts me with her extreme captivity, knowing I cannot escape this. I can squirm and grunt and struggle as much as I want, but all I will do is flip this chair over. This means I struggle for the pleasure of knowing I cannot escape. What a pleasurable captivity it is even if I cannot see or speak!
I do and don't like being blindfolded. I like the extra layer it brings to things; losing your sight is another challenge which must be overcome in the process. I don't like blindfolds because I don't want to hurt myself. In this case, I am rigidly zipped to the chair, so I don't have too much that is concerning except the possibility of tipping the chair. Nevertheless, I accept it as part of Momma giving me her best, and Momma’s best always means there is an embedded plan in things.
“Mmmmmmmmm!” I taste the so-called toe cheese that emanates from the socks in my mouth.
When I am tied up, I feel safe and wrapped up in Momma’s love. I hope Bridget feels the same way. How different we are. Bridget's mother died when she was my age, and I have never seen my father since I was a four year old. We both are lost without that element in our lives even if we are very different still. Bridget had a good relationship with her mother; but I have a bad one with my father. We are both rowers with blonde hair and a love of TUGs, but the similarities end there. At least, it feels like that's where the similarities end.
God has blessed me in many ways. First, He gave me Momma; then He gave my cousins whom I love dearly and who love me similarly. He gave me Bridget. He gave me a roommate who is on the rowing team as well and is of like beliefs to me. He gave me the CGC. He is good even if I am sometimes slow to be truly grateful for all He has done for me. As one of the CGC girls likes to remind me, that seemingly foreign voice that says “What about Minnesota Tech?” or “I should go with Bridget to this CGC meeting” is God speaking through the Holy Spirit, and she is right in that regard. I just hope I continue to maintain my innocence in TUGs.
Unconditional love and friendship are two things that every girl needs to survive. The CGC vow states that this love and friendship are to be freely given always. That doesn't mean you have to be a chump or a doormat; even in offense though you continue to love the offender and to desire their happiness. It's better than “Hate the sin; love the sinner.” It's “Love your fellow sinner and forgive their sins; beg them to forgive your own sins as well.” How beautiful is that?
“Gmmmphhhhh!” I struggle in my bonds, but it is useless.
“Mmmmmm!” Bridget seems to agree with me.
“Mmmmmm!” I respond, and we go back and forth like this.
I am blindfolded, bound, and gagged, and soon the Jolly Green Giant will kill me and Bridget. It was a lovely life, really, but I am losing mine today. Zip ties and dirty socks rule the day, and an exploding can of peas will vaporize me soon. It's a shame, really. Momma is such a clever lady, and every game with her is a fun adventure. I wonder what will happen next time we play TUGs like this? Momma loves to surprise me, and I look forward to future games. Bridget seems to be enjoying herself as well, grunting and struggling against her own zip tie predicament. What fun!
Being so tightly tied up is absolutely wonderful and pleasurable. It's just me, Momma, Bridget, and my thoughts. I cannot be distracted by my phone or my computer. It is us and the sound of a movie soundtrack in which a bomb detonates. I don't watch movies, so I don't know whence it originates. All I know is that Momma lets out a slight giggle to accompany the explosion of the can of peas. Bridget and I have passed on into the next life, having been vaporized by Momma.
“Did you have fun?” Momma asks us when we are free.
“I sure did,” I hug her just like I did when I was a little kid, “You make TUGs so much fun!”
“I grabbed that can for supper,” she sheepishly admits, “Idea was sudden and unexpected.”
“Mrs. Räänta, the only better thing would have been being able to escape,” Bridget adds.
“Yeah, but it was still fun, especially once she blindfolded us,” I smile at both of them.
“We learn how to play games together, my child,” Momma smiles, “As well as your friends.”
“I had fun for sure,” my friend beams, “I can't wait for the next time we get to play!”
Bridget couldn't have said it better. She embraces Momma, too. How lovable Momma is to each and every friend I have ever brought into my home! But only Bridget can say she has been taken captive by Momma. She is dear to me, and she and Momma have made a big spot for each other in their own hearts, much to my delight. Bridget, you're a true friend. Thank you for introducing me to the CGC and to the true meaning of friendship. It's a pleasure to share Momma with you.
Momma, we love you.
THE END
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
I’ll never forget telling Momma about TUGs for the very first time. When I told her more and more, she acquiesced, and during both Fall Break and Thanksgiving Break I taught her the ways of the game so she could tie me up anytime we both were up to playing. I taught her how to use scarves, rope, bandanas, zip ties, and duct tape during that first semester of my freshman year of college and the winter break between the Fall and Winter terms.
“Very stylish, Miss Räänta,” Bridget said to me with a smile, “You look so pretty and Russian.”
“Awww,” I quietly blushed and knotted my split blue and white kerchief bandana, “Thank you.”
“Sammy,” my friend continued and watched me play with my braid, “I’m glad we're friends.”
“You mean that?” I am now beet red and hug her, “Bridgie, I’m also glad we're friends.”
“You're so sweet! I love you, Gangsta Row,” she returns the embrace and cuddles me.
“Every moment with you is always a great blessing.”
When I was a high school freshman at the local rowing club, Bridget was a senior. When I was a college freshman studying meteorology via a rowing scholarship at Minnesota Tech, Bridget was a college senior studying meteorology via a rowing scholarship at Minnesota Tech. However, we are very different. She is a 5’4” platinum blonde of Norwegian and Swedish ancestry; I’m a 5’9” pale blonde with mixed brown streaks of Russian and Finnish ancestry.
Bridget’s hair is long and free; my hair is long and hidden in a simple braid. Both of us dress for our own privacy and comfort, but we both make a little splash in our own ways. Bridget wears a pair of cowboy boots with her blue jeans, a purple and pink plaid long-sleeve button-up shirt, and I wear a pair of canvas sneakers with my blue jeans, a white long-sleeve turtleneck t-shirt, a blue short-sleeve t-shirt over that, and a split color blue-and-white kerchief bandana in a cute Western paisley. Bridget has a purple bandana around her neck in cowboy style, also with the flower.
At the start of the semester, the weekend before orientation, Bridget introduced me to the friends she loved so much, the Cool Girls’ Club, or CGC for short. These friends gathered out of love in order to encourage and support each other, revel in friendship, and play tie up games, or TUGs, a game which I didn't know Bridget had been witnessing since she was just 5 years old and playing since she was 7. The Friday night before orientation, I was inducted into this Club.
We exchange a hug. That's special because I only hug those people who are really close to me; I love Bridget more than most of my friends. She has expanded my friendship circle in a massive way by introducing me to the Cool Girls’ Club. Now I am a Cool Girl with my own nickname in the Club. Gangsta Row somehow suits me because I can be as cold as a gangster. We walk and talk and proceed towards the living room where I am planning to jump Bridget to kidnap her.
“I did not know anyone was home,” I hear Momma’s voice say behind us, “This is robbery.”
“Who are you?” I play along and turn to see Momma holding a squirt gun and a scarf mask.
“I am bandit. I will have to bind and gag you two. Sit on chairs,” she motions to the kitchen.
“I understand,” I say quietly and fearfully, “My friend will cooperate. Won’t you?”
“Y-y-yeah,” Bridget plays her own kind of anxiety, “I don't want to die from a bullet hole.”
“Sit. Take off your shoes and socks. Exchange one sock. Put socks in your mouths.”
We do as Momma says. We sit down on the chairs and take off our shoes and our socks. Then we exchange one sock so we both have one Bridget sock and one Sammy sock. We put the pair of socks in our mouths, and Momma uses zip ties to secure my arms behind my back. They are thin zips, so up my flexible arms are about 9 of them, and then she zips them again around the spindles that form the chair’s back. Momma holds the socks in my mouth with a black bandana and wraps my face in eight layers of clear tape. It is a firm gag from which there is no escape.
Then, it is Bridget’s turn. Bridget’s arms are zipped to the sides of the back of the chair as well as mine, but she is shorter, which means 9 zips goes up to her armpits. She also gets the black bandana cleave gag and eight layers of clear tape. We look at each other and know we're trapped here as long as Momma wants to keep us here; what a loving embrace to trap us though!
Then Momma secured our legs to the legs of the chair, using 8 zips on me and 7 on Bridget. The zips are per leg, to be clear. She then used the longer, wider zips to secure our torsos to the back of the chair, going between the sides of the chair and the spindles. For me, this bound my arms to the chair a second time. She really crushed me to this chair without any mercy for me. Yes, I taught her so well. It's amazing to feel this strange loving embrace that is unique to CGC TUGs.
“Gm! MMPH!” I grunt in my attempt to struggle against my bonds, but they're stronger than I.
“Mmm mmmmmmm!” Bridget's efforts are a similar waste of energy.
“You waste your energy. You cannot escape,” Momma taunts us with a shake of her head.
Well that did it. We were tied up by a stranger in my own home, a masked bandit with a Russian accent. She had taken us by surprise, and now we were bound and gagged. The bandana and the tape held the two socks in my mouth with great efficacy, and I laughed at the bemused Bridget. My friend had been kidnapped many times as part of literally hundreds or thousands of games in her life, but never had she been taken by a parental figure.
I am really zipped to the chair; there is no getting away. My movements move the chair over the floor like a skater on ice. Momma, always one to make games harder for me, moves both of us to the living room carpet where our struggles can only shake the chair around and not allow us to scoot around. Yes, Momma, you are a fantastic kidnapper, and I love you very much.
Bridget tries to move, but she is as one with the chair. Too bad these aren’t arm chairs since that would make for an interesting fixture for tying us up. Alas, we don’t have arm chairs and aren’t about to get such chairs any time soon. I have to be content with the present. I blink at Bridget, a girl who is very surprised by what has taken place. Her wide eyes keep moving between me, my mother, and our bands. She is taking a long time to come to grips with the reality of it all.
“It is funny sight, but I make this look better soon,” Momma takes a piece of double-sided tape.
“Mmmmmm!” I groan when she applies the strip over my lips.
“Much better,” she ties a red bandana, folded into a band, as an OTM gag over the tape.
“Gmmph!” Bridget gets the tape on her lips next, and she thrashes around.
“This is not good,” Momma OTM gags her the same way, “I punish you for this.”
“Nooooooooo!” Bridget is quickly blindfolded with a pink bandana.
That was a quick turn of events. Bridget earned herself that particular punishment. It’s about to get worse, though, because Momma grabs my sneakers, my smelly canvas shoes that I wear any time I am planning on neither working nor going to the gym. Momma looks so much like me in the mask because it hides that she is in her mid 40s while I am just 18. Her hair’s never tied in a braid like mine, though, and she has a much more dignified air. Those ladies had to be tough as nails in order to survive the Soviet Union! I never got spanked because I lovingly fear her.
I love zip ties. Some call them “plastic devils,” and I tend to agree that they kind of can be little plastic devils if you don’t use them properly. Safety in numbers, and Momma had overkill down to a science. She was a woman of few but profound words and she of many but profound zips in which she tied up her only daughter. Momma, I am certainly your prisoner, and I am not getting out of this without your assistance. How I love being your captive.
“This is no ordinary can of peas,” she puts the ordinary can of peas down on the floor.
“Hmmm?” I look at her quizzically, not understanding what kind of game she is now playing.
“This is bomb. In 30 minutes, with you still trapped, it will explode. BOOM!” she motions.
“No!” I shake my head and struggle, leaching my and Bridget’s flavors onto my tongue, “Yuck!”
“You will go to pieces, you and your friend. Goodbye,” she sets a timer.
“Mmmmmm!” I am finally blindfolded with a bright green bandana.
I never knew Green Giant produced explosive cans of peas until just now. What a way to expand a business portfolio! I joke, of course, but I admire Momma’s creativity. She taunts me with her extreme captivity, knowing I cannot escape this. I can squirm and grunt and struggle as much as I want, but all I will do is flip this chair over. This means I struggle for the pleasure of knowing I cannot escape. What a pleasurable captivity it is even if I cannot see or speak!
I do and don't like being blindfolded. I like the extra layer it brings to things; losing your sight is another challenge which must be overcome in the process. I don't like blindfolds because I don't want to hurt myself. In this case, I am rigidly zipped to the chair, so I don't have too much that is concerning except the possibility of tipping the chair. Nevertheless, I accept it as part of Momma giving me her best, and Momma’s best always means there is an embedded plan in things.
“Mmmmmmmmm!” I taste the so-called toe cheese that emanates from the socks in my mouth.
When I am tied up, I feel safe and wrapped up in Momma’s love. I hope Bridget feels the same way. How different we are. Bridget's mother died when she was my age, and I have never seen my father since I was a four year old. We both are lost without that element in our lives even if we are very different still. Bridget had a good relationship with her mother; but I have a bad one with my father. We are both rowers with blonde hair and a love of TUGs, but the similarities end there. At least, it feels like that's where the similarities end.
God has blessed me in many ways. First, He gave me Momma; then He gave my cousins whom I love dearly and who love me similarly. He gave me Bridget. He gave me a roommate who is on the rowing team as well and is of like beliefs to me. He gave me the CGC. He is good even if I am sometimes slow to be truly grateful for all He has done for me. As one of the CGC girls likes to remind me, that seemingly foreign voice that says “What about Minnesota Tech?” or “I should go with Bridget to this CGC meeting” is God speaking through the Holy Spirit, and she is right in that regard. I just hope I continue to maintain my innocence in TUGs.
Unconditional love and friendship are two things that every girl needs to survive. The CGC vow states that this love and friendship are to be freely given always. That doesn't mean you have to be a chump or a doormat; even in offense though you continue to love the offender and to desire their happiness. It's better than “Hate the sin; love the sinner.” It's “Love your fellow sinner and forgive their sins; beg them to forgive your own sins as well.” How beautiful is that?
“Gmmmphhhhh!” I struggle in my bonds, but it is useless.
“Mmmmmm!” Bridget seems to agree with me.
“Mmmmmm!” I respond, and we go back and forth like this.
I am blindfolded, bound, and gagged, and soon the Jolly Green Giant will kill me and Bridget. It was a lovely life, really, but I am losing mine today. Zip ties and dirty socks rule the day, and an exploding can of peas will vaporize me soon. It's a shame, really. Momma is such a clever lady, and every game with her is a fun adventure. I wonder what will happen next time we play TUGs like this? Momma loves to surprise me, and I look forward to future games. Bridget seems to be enjoying herself as well, grunting and struggling against her own zip tie predicament. What fun!
Being so tightly tied up is absolutely wonderful and pleasurable. It's just me, Momma, Bridget, and my thoughts. I cannot be distracted by my phone or my computer. It is us and the sound of a movie soundtrack in which a bomb detonates. I don't watch movies, so I don't know whence it originates. All I know is that Momma lets out a slight giggle to accompany the explosion of the can of peas. Bridget and I have passed on into the next life, having been vaporized by Momma.
“Did you have fun?” Momma asks us when we are free.
“I sure did,” I hug her just like I did when I was a little kid, “You make TUGs so much fun!”
“I grabbed that can for supper,” she sheepishly admits, “Idea was sudden and unexpected.”
“Mrs. Räänta, the only better thing would have been being able to escape,” Bridget adds.
“Yeah, but it was still fun, especially once she blindfolded us,” I smile at both of them.
“We learn how to play games together, my child,” Momma smiles, “As well as your friends.”
“I had fun for sure,” my friend beams, “I can't wait for the next time we get to play!”
Bridget couldn't have said it better. She embraces Momma, too. How lovable Momma is to each and every friend I have ever brought into my home! But only Bridget can say she has been taken captive by Momma. She is dear to me, and she and Momma have made a big spot for each other in their own hearts, much to my delight. Bridget, you're a true friend. Thank you for introducing me to the CGC and to the true meaning of friendship. It's a pleasure to share Momma with you.
Momma, we love you.
THE END