Christine's nightmare

Postby lasse672000 » Thu Apr 04, 2013 9:39 am

Christine shuffled along Main Street. She was dressed in a light pink, long-sleeved leotard, white, woolly pantyhose and red sneakers, and she was part of a convoy of girls who were dressed more or less the same.
On the side-walks, the people of the little village had gathered to pay the girls their last respects, as they had done with the boys who had gone before them a few minutes earlier. She knew her parents were there somewhere, but she couldn’t see them.
”Maybe just as well!” she thought, “If I had, I probably would have started crying, making a right fool of myself in front of the trainers and the other girls!”
She wished she could adjust the thick, tight-fitting heavy iron collar around her neck, but that was impossible; her wrists were also cuffed together, and fastened to the chain locked around her waist. She also had cuffs on her ankles, with a small piece of heavy chain between them.
To make absolutely certain, neither she nor any of the other girls in the line was going to run away, they were all connected to the girl in front by a length of chain. She knew the boys had been linked together the same way.
“Come on! Get moving, girls! We haven’t got all day, you know!” The male instructor walking beside the line growled. Some of them moaned, but the line did pick up speed.

A few minutes later, they reached the truck. They walked up a steep, make-shift ramp, and were told to sit on the floor. The collars were disconnected from each other, but the chain was instead locked to a ring in the floor in front of each girl.
The instructor, who had growled at them before, stood at the back of the truck, looking at them with a disgusted look in his eyes.
“You’re a pathetic bunch, you know that? Huh?” he said, with even greater disgust in his voice. “I really hope they can sort at least some of you out, but I seriously doubt it! I know from past experience that most of you girls won’t make it past the first week. Hell, the first day, even! But reflect on what will happen, when you fail! You will be considered young, immature girls for the rest of your lives. So I hope, for your sake, you will make it!” He jumped out, closed and locked the doors.

The truck drove long bumpy roads for hours, before coming to a sudden stop and Christine, who had managed to fall into a light, uneasy slumber, was woken with a jolt. The man opened the doors, climbed in, and closed them behind him before reconnecting the girls’ collars in pairs and telling them to get up and get out. When Christine and Laura, to whom she was connected, got out she saw they were in the middle of a forest.
They were lined up outside and the man, after once again having told them they were pathetic, told them to start walking. Although being in the forest the ground was relatively smooth, without any big hurdles to negotiate, so they reached the camp without too much trouble.

The camp consisted of a ring of small two-man tents, and each pair was assigned one. The tents were so low the girls had to crawl on their hands and knees to get inside.
The girls’ first task, once they had their hands freed from the chain around their waists (they were still cuffed together, though) was to gather wood for, and light, the fire in the middle of the camp.
“I hope we won’t have to do this every day. My back is KILLING me!” Laura complained.
“I’m sure they will!” Christine said. “After all, were here to learn how to be real housewives; aren’t we? And as such, we have to be able to walk around and gather firewood, among other things, even though our wrists and ankles are cuffed together. After all, from now on, they will be. If we make here, that is. I’ll bet you anything, that you’ll think this is the easy part, in a couple of days’ time.”
That night they slept, if you could call it that, like babies. The thing was, that the tent was so small they had to sleep sitting up, a task made easier by the fact the chains to their collars were locked to a ring cemented to the floor in the middle of the tent.

At roll-call the next day, there were only half the girls remaining. The rest had mysteriously disappeared during the night, never to be seen again.
“I told you so! Didn’t I?” the instructor said, in a spiteful voice. “In a few days’ time, all you cry-babies will be gone, even those who still think they can take it all the way; you mark my words! Only those made of the right stuff will remain.
Right; today will be a repeat performance of yesterday; first you gather wood, and cook you breakfast, then we have a long list of chores you will have to do, both before and after lunch. Don’t forget; the fires have to be burning all day, so you have to tend to those as well, not just doing the chores!
Well; why are you standing around here for? Off you go!”

All the girls hurried as fast as their cuffed ankles allowed, out into the forest to gather as much wood as they could.
About halfway through, Laura said she just had to sit down for a while. As they sat there, the ground started shaking, and there was a loud thunder.
“What’s happening?” Christine yelled...
and woke up in her own bed.
“Phew!” she thought. “It was only a nightmare! But it sure was a vivid one. I’m glad the real camp is nothing like that!”
She reached up and put a finger between the soft, plush collar and her neck, just to check it was still loose enough, and then did the same with the soft leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
At that moment, her husband came in and released the belt around her waist, which had prevented her from getting out of bed during the night.
“Good morning, love.” he said. “I’ll help you get dressed, shall I?” When he had helped her get into an ankle-long cream, satin dress with many petticoats, they went into the kitchen, where he had prepared their breakfast.
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Christine's nightmare

Postby lasse672000 » Fri Apr 05, 2013 4:24 am

After breakfast, and while Jordan, her husband, clasped her wrist-cuffs to the armrests of her favourite chair, the sort with extra-fluffy pillows, Christine started thinking out loud.
“I wonder,” she said, “what happened to Laura? You know, the girl I was chained together with at camp. I’m sure she got married; but is she as happy as I am? Does she have any kids? Where does she live?”
Jordan, who had been kneeling to clasp her ankle-cuffs to the legs of the chair, got to his feet, and looked at her.
“Do you want me to try and find out?” he asked. “It shouldn’t take long, provided she still lives in this state. If she doesn’t, it could take as much as one hour to find out. If I’m real unlucky, it could take as much as two.”
”Yes, please! Would you do that for me? You’d be a real gem!” Christine said, smiling up at him. “I could sit here and watch TV, while you work. I promise to be quiet, unless there was an emergency, so you wouldn’t even have to gag me. But before you start: could you buckle the belt around my waist? It feels so strange sitting here cuffed, but not securely belted, to the chair.
“I most certainly will, Mrs. Anderson.” Jordan said, patted her on her head, and went to fulfil her wish.

“We’re, or rather you’re, certainly in luck!” he said, when he returned an hour later.”Your friend Laura lives, with her husband, Mike and ten-year old son Arthur, in the next village. I could take you and Amanda (that’s their eleven-year old daughter) to see them today. If you want to, that is?”
“Oh yes, please!” Christine hadn’t been that excited, since she learned she was going to the camp, all those years ago.
“OK! Your wish is my command!” he laughed as he unclasped her from the chair, and clasped his wife’s hands together in front of her. Then he told Amanda they were going on a trip, all three of them. She came down the stairs dressed, like her mother, in an ankle-long, long-sleeved cream, satin dress. She, like her mother, wore a brown, leather belt around her waist, to which you could clasp wrist-cuffs, either in front, behind her back or to her sides. Jordan now clasped her wrist-cuffs to her sides, as well as putting ankle-cuffs on her, and then clasped leather straps to their belts, so he had something to use as a lead.
Then, they all went out to the car.

His daughter sat in the back seat, and he put the seat-belt around her. Then he helped his wife to sit in the front passenger seat, before also putting a seat-belt around her, before driving two hours to the next village.
When they got to the house where Laura and her family lived, they got out of the car, Amanda asked:
“Please, dad; can I have my hands clasped together in front of me, like mum has?”
“Of course you can, love.” her father replied. From a pocket, he took out two ball-gaggers and put the larger one in Christine’s mouth, and the smaller one in Amanda’s, before buckling them behind their heads. They would be taken out only if, or when, necessary.

Jordan rang the door-bell and Mike opened the door. Behind him Laura stood, dressed in a sky-blue, long-sleeved, ankle-length wool dress, with about half a dozen petticoats. She had her wrists tied together behind her back with a soft rope, and a wide scarf covered her bulging cheeks. Beside her a boy, who must be Arthur, stood. He was dressed in a grey plush, one piece sweat-suit. He looked a bit uncomfortable, and Christine thought it looked like he was diapered.
The Andersons were invited in, and Arthur took Amanda’s gag out and escorted her to his room, so their mothers could reacquaint themselves. The women’s hands were released so they could be tied to two armchairs, which stood in front of a fire place. Their gaggers were taken out, and they were left alone to talk.
And talk, they did. For the next hour or so, there was nothing but a lot of “Do you remember when...”, “I wonder what happened to...”, “When did you...” and “I wish I had...” coming from them, mixed with a lot of laughter, and some tears.

In Arthurs’ room, Amanda sat down in a chair and he sat down on the bed. At first, there was a long, awkward silence between them; then he, kind of nonchalantly, asked if she liked having her hands cuffed to her waist all the time.
Amanda looked down at her hands. “My ankles are cuffed together too, you know. But not all the time.” she said. “When I’m at home, I’m as uncuffed as you are right now. Dad only cuffs my wrists and/or ankles, and gags me when we go out, and then only if I ask him. It’s only when I get older, that I have to be cuffed 24/7, like my mother. For now, it keeps me from getting into trouble, so I ask him just about every time we go out.
What’s it like to never have he option to be cuffed at all? Or would your father cuff you, if you asked him?”
“I don’t really know.” Arthur replied. “I never have, but then again; I’ve never heard of a son being restrained by his dad, the way daughters obviously can be. I don’t know why; but it just sounds so weird, somehow.”
“Don’t you even have bed-restraints and diapers?” Amanda was astonished.
“No; why should I?” Arthur was as astonished. “I never walk around in my sleep! Yes well, I dream I do, but I never do for real. And I’m certainly no bed-wetter.”
“I don’t either, but, for one thing; dad likes to know where I am at all times, and for another; it’s the law, isn’t it? And the diapers are there just in case. Nine times out of ten, I don’t use them.”

Arthur gave her a long look. “I wonder what dad would say if I asked him to get me a set of bed-restraints, and a pack of diapers? He’d probably go through the roof.”
“Or maybe he won’t.” Amanda argued. “Maybe he’s one of those open-minded dads. You never know until you’ve tried; do you?
Tell you what; bring the subject up carefully when you’re alone, just to see what he says! Maybe you could start by asking him to give you a belt like mine,” she pointed at her waist“, and if he says ‘no’, then you’ll know it’s pointless to ask for those other things.
However; if he says ‘yes’, then you’ll have a Green Light to go ahead, if you want to.”
“Yea; I could do that!” Arthur beamed. “Maybe I could call you and tell you what happened?”
“Mm, please do!” Amanda agreed.

Just before Amanda and her mother were gagged, Arthur grabbed Amanda’s arm, and whispered in her ear: “What kind of diapers should I ask him to buy?”
“I don’t know. Thick ones, I guess, as you’ll be wearing them over night. There’s no real difference between the brands, as far as I know. And make sure the belt and other restraints are made of soft leather, or at least of a soft material.”
“OK! I will. I’ll call you next week, to let you know what happened!”
Whazzzz up!.