## Madwomen FF/M

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Sun Jun 13, 2010 1:03 am

Hey Everybody.
I'm finally putting the finishing touches on my latest story, which has been in the works for some time. It's based quite heavily on a rather bogus dream I had a few weeks ago. It was kind of scary but kind of exciting at the same time, so I decided to expand it and develop it into a story, for the obvious purpose of sharing it here.
Here's the first part! I've edited this section, but I never manage to pick up everything so please bear with me. I should also add that the girls who were the subject of my dream are a work of complete fiction, dreamed up by my deluded imagination! So there are no identities to protect.
So! Without any further ado, I hope you enjoy:
Madwomen
I didnâ€™t like the look of these two girls one bit. Well, maybe thatâ€™s unfair. They were beautiful, but something about them put me at instinctive unease. Wait, Iâ€™m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning:
A few days earlier , my family and I, along with several relatives had made the eight hour drive away from home and came to this town. After a three-year struggle with cancer my Uncle Alan had passed away. Leaving his wife and their two adopted daughters.
After arriving, weâ€™d spent the next couple of days running back and forth from our hotel, to our Aunt Dianeâ€™s place, to the church where the funeral was being held. I had never known Uncle Alan very well, but it seemed expected of all the relatives that we help prepare for the funeral. So I did. There was a lot of work to be done, and keeping busy was no problem.
Thursday, the day of the funeral itself finally arrived. Aunt Diane and her daughters were due to arrive at noon, and the service was supposed to start as soon as they were seated. And for once, a funeral that I attended actually ran on schedule. We arrived at ten, and I was assigned to hook up the electronics: The projector, the computer, the speakers, and the microphone. Once that was done, I found a quiet spot in the basement and started warming up. The day we arrived, my Aunt had asked me to sing something at the funeral. I guess sheâ€™d heard that I was working on a music degree. I agreed, Iâ€™d sung at many funerals, I was used to it.
At eleven thirty the guests started arriving. It was one of those situations when the crowd was filled with people youâ€™d seen at family gatherings, but didnâ€™t actually know who they were. Though they all seemed to know who I was. It was a bit awkward to say the least.
Noon. Aunt Diane walked into the room wearing a long black dress. Many people rushed towards her to offer their condolences, and she accepted them gratefully before taking her place in the front row. In my auntâ€™s wake were her two daughters, Lara and Charlotte.
Iâ€™d never met these two, though tales of their exploits had filtered down the e-mail grape vine to our dining room table on several occasions. My Aunt and Uncle had always wanted children, but it turned out that they were unable to have their own. So six years previous, they heard a story of twin girls whoâ€™d been orphaned when their parents were in a car crash. After going to see them, they decided to adopt them. And by the sounds of things, had regretted their decision ever since.
Charlotte was about five foot six, with shoulder length dark blonde hair, which sheâ€™d given amber highlights. She was quite skinny, with a fairly small bust.
Lara was slightly taller, standing around five eight. Her hair was a dark brunette shade and came down well past her shoulders. She had a slightly more muscular build than her sister, and was thus more well endowed in the chest. To be fair, they were both quite pretty.
Charlotte and Lara walked down the central aisle and sat next to Aunt Diane in a very casual manner. As they passed, I couldnâ€™t help but notice a distinct lack of emotion on either of their faces. As if they were going to some kind of distant relativeâ€™s funeral. Not their fatherâ€™s.
I shrugged it off. Maybe they were just very stoical.
The service lasted a couple of hours, various friends and family members stood to give their favorite memories of Uncle Alan and what heâ€™d meant to themâ€¦ the standard stuff. Almost at the end of the service, just before my Aunt was supposed to get up and speak, I was invited to the stage.
Starting my accompaniment disc from the CD player mounted on the wall, I started singing â€œAve Mariaâ€ by Schubert.
One of the biggest problems you face when singing, especially classical music, is figuring out what to do with your eyes. On the one hand, you want to make contact with your audience as you perform. On the other hand, randomly staring at people is sometimes very awkward. I still havenâ€™t really figured out how to deal with this.
This is as much of a problem for the audience as it is for the singer. Some people glance at you and then back to the wall, some stare off into space in random directions, and others just shut their eyes and avoid the problem altogether. Very rarely do you find someone who makes eye contact with you the whole time. Wellâ€¦ this time, I did. Guess who it was.
Both girls stared strait at me, made full eye contact and didnâ€™t flinch. At points it didnâ€™t even seem like they were blinking. I tried to keep my eyes moving and not look at them, but I couldnâ€™t not. No matter where I was looking, the weight of their collective stare followed me. It wasnâ€™t an amiable stare either, it felt downright menacing. Something about these two gave me the creeps.
Schubertâ€™s Ave Maria generally takes about four minutes to perform, it felt like four hours. As soon as it was finished and applause rose, I took a very shallow bow and got the hell off the stage, and away from the cold stares that tormented me. Though even as my aunt gave her final tearful goodbye to her husband, anxiety continued to plague me. Slowly I came to realize that I was not only afraid, but entranced.
After a minute I had to give my head a shake. This was all in my imagination. I just needed to collect my thoughts and think rationally.
Well, to make a long story shortâ€¦ rationality didnâ€™t really help either.
The service ended and the congregation moved to the reception at my Aunt Dianeâ€™s House a few blocks away. I walked with my sister, watching like a hawk for either Lara or Charlotte, ready to do just about anything to stay clear of them. Though as the afternoon drew on, they eventually slipped from my consciousness.
Once again, I was immersed in the business of managing a large event. Making sure the food tables were stocked and the drinks kept on ice. It kept me busy from two oâ€™clock until well after seven. By then most of the guests had left and my parents, my sister, my Grandmother and I were all that remained.
I was doing dishes in the kitchen when my Mom approached me.
â€œHey, would you mind finishing up here?â€ She asked.
â€œNo, why? You going somewhere?â€
â€œYes, Diane mentioned she wanted to go for a walk around the lake and she wants the women to come with her. And Dadâ€™s gone back to the hotel.â€
â€œDoes he have the car?â€
â€œYes. So weâ€™ll send your sister back to pick you up once were finished.â€
â€œSure, no problem.â€
She nodded and off she went, I heard some quiet chattering from the front hall and then the front door was shut. I was alone.
For the first few minutes, I occupied myself with the massive stack of dishes left in the kitchen. Though they didnâ€™t take as long as I had expected. Not sure what I should be doing next, I decided to head upstairs to find a washroom.
On the upper floor I took stock of the rooms, the nicely decorated master bedroom, the somewhat barren guest room, furnished primarily by a four post queen size bed, the bathroom and one more door. Suddenly as I contemplated what lay behind it, it dawned on me. It was their room.
Silently I crept up to the door. I knew they werenâ€™t home, in fact I had no idea where they were. But I was both hesitant and insatiably curious to have a look inside.
â€œThis canâ€™t be a good idea.â€ I said to myself quietly.
I made my decision and pushed the door open.
The room was quite large, on either wall were two single beds, each with its own bedside table between it and the wall. The floor was littered with clothes, most of them, shall we say, less than modest. The wall was littered with posters, mostly of bands that Iâ€™d never heard of, though most of them had long hair. So they were metal fansâ€¦ of sorts. I ventured a few steps farther and had a look at the walk in closet on the left side of the room. It was as messy as the rest of the room, though one box managed to catch my eye. It was a large box made of blue tainted plastic. And within it I saw an object that I immediately recognized. Hesitantly I made my way into the closet and opened the box. My suspicions were confirmed. They were a pair of steel handcuffs, and as I looked closer, I saw two more pairs beneath.
So these two were in to bondage were they? My own fantasies on the subject were still a secret from everyone, and even though I now knew for certain that these two girls to some extent shared my fantasy, I had no desire to engage in any kind of TUG with them. Something told me that if these two owned handcuffs, whips and paddles wouldnâ€™t be far behind, and those certainly had no place in my fantasies.
A key entered the lock downstairs.
â€œSh*t.â€ I quietly breathed.
As quickly and quietly as I could I put the handcuffs back and got out of the room, darting to the washroom to cover my tracks.
After a minute I re-emerged hoping to make a civilized entrance to whoever it was that had just come home. Boldly and fearlessly I came down the stairs, expecting to see my aunt. But it wasnâ€™t her. It was them.
I stopped almost dead in my tracks. Iâ€™d just been leafing through their stuff and now they get back and Iâ€™m alone with them. Greatâ€¦ Just great.
â€œHi there.â€ Lara said casually.
â€œHi.â€ I replied
â€œWhat were you doing upstairs?â€ Charlotte demanded.
â€œI was going to the washroom. I was drafted into finishing cleaning up here.â€
Charlotte nodded, Lara did nothing.
â€œI should probably get back to it.â€ I said after a protracted silence.
Looking down to the floor I pushed my way back to kitchen, trying to find something, anything I could do to stay away from them. Within about ten minutes, I ran out of anything to clean and was forced to move back to the living room. Charlotte lay on the couch lazily reading a magazine. I didnâ€™t say anything.
"What had they been doing in the last few minutes?" I wondered to myself. I hadnâ€™t heard so much as a sound come from the rest of the house. Quietly I continued with my work, until Lara appeared through a door, which I assumed led to the basement. She had three bottles of beer in her hand. She threw one to her sister on the couch, and graciously handed me the other. I couldnâ€™t help but notice the cap was slightly ajar. Lara smacked her sisterâ€™s feet and forced her to sit up to give herself some space, I sat on the couch opposite to them.
Before she said anything else Lara opened her beer and took an impressive gulp.
â€œCanadian beerâ€¦ Thereâ€™s nothing quite like it.â€ She said.
â€œNo.â€
â€œI was at a party the other week, all they had was frickinâ€™ Budweiser, that stuff is beer flavored water.â€
At that moment I started to feel slightly more at ease.
â€œOk Iâ€™m sorry, but your name is Alex right?â€ Charlotte asked.
â€œYeah.â€
â€œYeah, sorry, I knew that.â€
â€œThatâ€™s ok, Iâ€™ve never actually met you guys before.â€
â€œThatâ€™s true.â€ Lara remarked. â€œWell, hereâ€™s what youâ€™ve been missing all your life.â€
â€œNow my life is complete.â€ I jokingly replied.
They appeared to be friendly enough, even though Lara seemed to be playing some kind of angle. Seeing the beer in my hand, I knew how rude it would be to not drink it. And they were sort of familyâ€¦ what were they going to do? Drug me or something?
Taking the cap off the bottle I took a long chug. The beer was pretty good, though it had a slightly weird aftertaste.
As I dropped the bottle again, I saw a long toothy smile cross both of their faces. As I put the bottle down on the table, I looked at the label and then back at them. It couldnâ€™t beâ€¦
My head started to spin and I felt my heart beat throbbing in my head. I couldnâ€™t believe it, they had drugged me. I tried to keep my composure as long as I could, but within about a minute I fell sideways onto the arm of the couch and rolled forward onto the carpet below. At that point I didnâ€™t have the presence of mind to think of much but pure shock. What the hell was going on?
I rolled onto my chest and started crawling forward, instinctively doing anything I could to reach the door. Within ten seconds a stiletto heel came down and blocked my way.
â€œOh youâ€™re not thinking of leaving are you?â€ I heard Charlotte say.
I tried to crawl forward again but she kept blocking my path. Then from out of nowhere, a pair of strong hands took hold of both my arms and pulled them together. Even in my compromised state, I knew what was coming next. Soft silk rope snaked its way around my wrists and was cinched in the middle and knotted off before I knew what happened.
Now, Charlotte gave up blocking my way and walked out of my field of vision to join in the fun. While she worked on my ankles and knees, Lara tied one end of another rope around my right elbow sent the loose end around my other one and started pulling them together. Iâ€™m not the most flexible guy in the world, after sheâ€™d pulled them too close I started grunting and moaning angrily. At least she had the decency to give me a bit of slack before knotting it off. By now Charlotte had finished on my knees and ankles, and passed the loose end of that tie to Lara who looped it through my wrists and pulled it back hard. Pulling my feet and hands close together into a strict hogtie. But even this wasnâ€™t enough for them, and while Charlotte applied another rope around my stomach to hold my wrists to my back, Lara took a short length and attached it with a simple slipknot to the rope running between my ankles and wrists. She pulled me over onto my side and tied the loose rope around the leg of the nearby couch.
Finally satisfied, the girls stood over me and stared down at their captive.
â€œOh I almost forgot!â€ Lara announced with an almost pleasant tone of voice.
She ran back to the basement door and returned with a role of black tape. I couldnâ€™t see what kind it was, but it look pretty sticky. I braced myself for the worst. And I wasnâ€™t disappointed. Lara took off one of her own socks while Charlotte lifted my head from the ground. The grotesque smelling sock was shoved into my mouth and was followed by a long strip of the black tape, which she then wrapped around my head several times.
I let out a few gagged cries in protest of the situation, but they only came out as weak mmmmmphs, and only made them laugh at my predicament. Finally, my senses so overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, I gave in to the drugs in my system and passed out.
More to come soon! Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment!
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by CosplayGirl » Sun Jun 13, 2010 2:23 am

Hi,
Cool story,maybe i have to try this mean girl thing.Hard for me coz im a sweety lol.
Luv Melissa.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by ducttapeboy001 » Sun Jun 13, 2010 3:01 am

woooohhh,,
Great story, Im impatient for the next part..
Plz write soon
I just love F/M stories, Plz do continue
it makes me GLaD, Im not you
And believe me Im still alive
Im doing TUGs and Im still alive.
I feel fantastic and Im stilll alive
You'd be EVIL if you're GLaD

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by chloroformmeplease » Sun Jun 13, 2010 5:26 am

My compliments to you. This is a great story. I hope you do not keep us waiting for very long for the next chapter.
Treat others as you wish to be treated. Having said that I will not sit idly by while someone is disrespecting another just because they think they are better than everyone else.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Sun Jun 13, 2010 8:53 am

Very, very interesting story so far. I want to hear more.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Tied beauty » Sun Jun 13, 2010 1:55 pm

good story

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by capturedsuperhero » Sun Jun 13, 2010 3:13 pm

Nice work good story
Arrogant Superhero here, Looking for a Nasty Villain!!!!

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Mon Jun 14, 2010 9:13 pm

Thanks for all the feedback guys, it's greatly appreciated! Here's part two, hope it lives up to the expectations.
I have no idea how long I was out, but the light had changed from the dark blue twilight of evening, to the suffocating darkness of night. So I guessed it was on the order of several hours.
As I stared out the window, my senses slowly started coming back online and I began to take stock of my situation. I was still on the floor, and judging by the loops of pressure around my limbs and my torso, I was still bound. Moving my mouth a little bit, it was obvious both the foul tasting sock and the black duct tape were still in place, silencing me. Gathering up my strength I lifted my head off the floor and twisted it back to try and get a look at my bindings.
Iâ€™m no ropes expert, but it was obvious that Iâ€™d been tied very well. Whatâ€™s more, the rope theyâ€™d used wasnâ€™t just any old utility rope youâ€™d find in average Joeâ€™s garage. This was specialty bondage rope made of silk. Soâ€¦ I was being held prisoner by my two distant, adopted, sort of cousins. They were obviously bondage experts and had likely done this to guys before. The fact they used drugs on me meant this was more than just some bad practical joke or plain old bondage session.
Situation Analysis: Up sh*t creek without a paddle.
Why? That question kept ringing in my head. Why had they done this? What did they want? The lack of answers was infuriating. Fury tempered by fear. These two chicks obviously meant business whatever it was. And certainly, it wouldnâ€™t be good for me.
â€œOh look Lara! Heâ€™s awake.â€ Charlotte cried.
Lara let out a fake girly squeal.
â€œMorning sleepyhead!â€ She cried, laying down on the floor in front of me. â€œAmazing what a little valium and alcohol mixed together can do isnâ€™t it?â€
I mmmmphed indignantly.
â€œOh câ€™mon, you must admit, itâ€™s a good trick. Works on pretty much all of the stupid guys we bring back here.â€ Charlotte added.
My suspicions were instantly confirmed; I wasnâ€™t the first guy to fall victim to these two harpies.
â€œHe looks confused Char.â€ Lara said. â€œShould we educate him?â€
â€œYeah, sure.â€
Charlotte came and lay on the floor next to her sister. Though as I was laying on my side, it just looked to me like four eyes sideways.
â€œYou went through our room.â€ Lara declared.
I shook my head.
â€œYou went into our room and leafed through our stuff. Did you like what you found?â€
I shook my head again, they just stared at meâ€¦ A sadistic affection in their gaze. I started mmphing, Hoping that they might at least take the gag off so I could plead my case. But they didnâ€™t seem to be in any mood for discussion. My intuition started rattling in my mind. Telling me that some sort of torture lay in store for me.
â€œWell since you like bondage so much, we just thought weâ€™d let you try it.â€ Charlotte reasoned. Her grin lengthening with every word.
I stopped to think. There was a certain poignancy to the psycho b*tchâ€™s words just then. They didnâ€™t know I was actually in to bondage. Had the circumstances been different, if they were girls who I trusted and who I knew cared about me, it would be a dream situation to be taken by surprise, bound and held prisoner by then. But needless to say, I was being held captive by people who I certainly did not trust. And none of the excitement associated with a tie up game was present in this. Only fear.
â€œHere! Try this!â€ She said as she rose to her feet.
I heard some running around, then I didnâ€™t hear anything else. She took two wads of cloth or something and jammed them into my ears. Within a few seconds a scarf or some kind of cloth had been tied around my eyes and I was thrust into a silent darkness.
Iâ€™d never been so helpless in my life. My powers of sight, speech, movement and listening had all been taken away. Though the one sense that they couldnâ€™t take was touch. I guessed that they didnâ€™t want me to know if they were watching me or not. But what they forgot was when they moved I could feel the vibrations of the floor. Minutes passed and then one left. The other followed a couple of minutes later. With both of them gone, I couldnâ€™t stop myself from struggling. I writhed twisted as far as the ropes would let me, which was hardly anywhere. I must have looked like a stupid wiggling mass, but I didnâ€™t care. There was no way I was getting out of this with my pride intact.
As I struggled it occurred to me that Lara had tied the hogtying rope to a leg of the couch. I inched over to the couch and fumbled around the leg with my bound fingers. After a minute I found the knot and gradually untied it. I pulled away from the couch and rolled onto my stomach. My side had begun to hurt, so laying on my stomach was a welcome relief.
After taking a few seconds to get circulation running on the right side of my body, I continued the mad struggling, though by now it was clear that the ropes were not giving way. I fell onto my left side and started inching my way across the floor. Searching for somethingâ€¦ Anythingâ€¦ Anything I could use to loosen the ropes and escape. And hopefully get a bit of payback on my captors before I left.
Oh no. The footsteps returned.
I noticed by now that whatever it was they had shoved in my ears had started to loosen. I vaguely heard Charlotteâ€™s muffled voice yelling something to her sister, though what it was I had no idea. I stopped in my tracks. My attempts had been discovered.
I vaguely heard them talking, though whatever it was theyâ€™d put in my ears was still doing its job, I could hardly hear anything. I guessed it was some kind of condescending remark about the futility of my efforts to escape. Maybe some plotting about whatever it was they planned to do with me. What were they going to do to me anyway? The tension of that question was becoming unbearable.
Suddenly the stuffing and blindfold were ripped off my head in one motion.
â€œAwwww is poor wittle captive twying to escape from fwom the mean girls?â€ Lara teased me.
I shot her a dirty look, the only means of defiance I had.
â€œI know, I know. Were I in your position Iâ€™d be doing the same thing. But fortunately, Iâ€™m not. Whaddaya say we all go upstairs and watch a movie together? How would that be?â€
I didnâ€™t respond. Not that I couldâ€™ve really changed her mind anyway. Maybe they wouldnâ€™t tie me up as strictly upstairs. Lara moved down to my feet and undid the hogtying rope, allowing me to lower my feet to the floor. A moment later and my ankles were free.
Lara grabbed my arm and tried to hoist me off the floorâ€¦ unfortunately for her though, Iâ€™m built like a brick outhouse (Not fat, justâ€¦ bulky) and was too heavy for her to lift.
â€œYouâ€™re only making it worse for yourself.â€ She hissed violently.
Now I was scared, something in the tone of her voice told me she meant business. As such, the next time she pulled I grudgingly hauled myself off the floor. After gathering up the rope, she held onto my arm and led me back upstairs into their room.
â€œHmmmm, what should I use?â€ She wondered out loud.
Suddenly an idea came to her, and she pushed me towards one of the beds as hard as she could, throwing me off balance, bouncing off the bed and crashing onto the floor awkwardly. Without another word she took one of the ropes and re-bound my ankles.
â€œIâ€™ll be right back, donâ€™t go anywhere.â€
As soon as sheâ€™d left the room, I leaned against the single bed and hoisted myself to my feet. There had to be something I could use to cut myself loose in that room somewhere. My first thought was to check their bedside drawers. As quietly as I could, I hopped over the right hand drawer, turned myself around and opened it with my bound hands. I did my best to search it with my hands while looking over my shoulder, which proved to be difficult.
â€œGoing through our stuff again? You perverted little klepto.â€ Lara announced.
â€œWho are YOU callin a pervert?â€ I thought to myself.
She carried a strait backed dining chair into the room. I was actually slightly relieved, Iâ€™d expected it to be some kind of instrument of pain to be inflicted on me.
â€œChar, could you come give me a hand?â€ She called out.
A minute later her sister appeared.
â€œChair.â€ Lara explained. And on that single code word, the well rehearsed sister duo sprang into action. Each taking one of my arms, they half led, half dragged me over to the chair and forced me on it. Next Charlotte took hold of my arms while Lara untied them, and quick as a flash they yanked them through openings in the chair back and she retied them again.
Charlotte reached down and grabbed the two remaining pieces of rope from the floor while Lara retrieved two more lengths from the closet. My ankles were secured to separate chair legs, and a rope was wrapped several times around my waist and my upper torso.
With that, Charlotte disappeared again. By now, the tape had been stuck on my face for several hours. I desperately wanted to breath through my lips and maybe get a drink of water. At my wits end, I began to mmmmph indignantly. Lara looked over to me.
â€œNo one can hear you if you scream, youâ€™ll just annoy us and Iâ€™m sure you donâ€™t want to do that.â€ She said.
I just nodded, imploring her with my eyes. You could call it begging if you wanted to. Seeing this, Lara walked over to me and ripped the tape off my face all at once. After feeling the burn I spat out her sock and the wet mass of fabric fell to the ground and landed with a thud.
â€œYou ever heard of the Geneva convention?â€ I asked her.
â€œYeah.â€ She replied.
â€œI have rights.â€
â€œAs I recall the Geneva conventions only applied to prisoners of war.â€
I was shocked. This chick wasnâ€™t stupid.
â€œFine. How about the declaration of human rights?â€
â€œWhat the hell are you trying to pull here?â€
â€œWater.â€
â€œWhat?â€
â€œIâ€™ve been tied up for how many hours now? Since that beer you gave me was drugged I havenâ€™t drank anything since noon.â€
â€œAlright, alright.â€
She headed downstairs, hopefully to get me my water. In the meantime, I desperately scanned the room, looking for anything within reach I could possibly use to cut myself free. Alas, there was nothing. Not that I couldâ€™ve moved anyway. All I could do was wait for her to come back. A couple of minutes on and she returned, a plastic water bottle in one hand, the roll of black tape in the other.
I tilted my head back and she poured the water bottle strait down into my mouth and I grabbed it with my lips. I chugged about half the bottle and she pulled it back. I nodded and she poured it down again, I downed the rest of the bottle.
â€œThank you.â€ I said quietly.
â€œWell arenâ€™t you little Mr. Manners?â€ She taunted me back.
â€œIncivility wonâ€™t get me anywhere.â€
She nodded thoughtfully and headed over to the TV stand next to the door, facing the beds. She sifted through the DVD collection wordlessly.
â€œWhat are you doing here?â€ I asked her finally.
She looked back.
â€œWhat the hell is this, kidnappingâ€¦ something else? What the hell are you guys playing at?â€
She walked back towards me. I couldnâ€™t help but notice a sudden change in her movements, she walked a lot slower, looking almostâ€¦ provocative. She moved towards me, and slowly brushed the left side of my head down to my cheek with the tip of her index finger. I felt evil radiating out of her and smearing on my face.
â€œBecause itâ€™s fun.â€ She replied finally.
â€œWhatâ€™s that supposed to mean?â€
â€œOh, youâ€™ll find out.â€
Our eyes met, I knew I couldnâ€™t flinch. She seemed almost surprised; apparently not many of her previous captives had the guts to look her directly in the eyes. The staring contest lasted for what felt like several minutes until finally:
â€œI think itâ€™s time for the gag to go back in.â€ She said.
She picked up the wet balled up sock from the floor and shoved it right back into my mouth. Retrieving the black tape from the floor nearby, she pulled some off the role, stuck it over my lips and wrapped it around my head several times. Silenced once again, I could do nothing but watch as she headed back to the TV and continued rifling through the many DVDs in the cabinet. After a minute, a wide smirk crossed her face. I couldnâ€™t see what sheâ€™d picked, she seemed to be making a point of not giving me any warning. She put the movie on, turned out the light and jumped onto her bed.
She skipped the opening credits, losing me any chance to see the title of movie before it started. I didnâ€™t know how long it was, but after a few scenes of confusing, disjointed dialogue and some gratuitous sex, we arrived at a scene where one of the two main characters is taken to an underground dungeon. Suddenly I recognized the room from the ads Iâ€™d seen on TV. The movie was Hostel, one of the most notorious horror movies ever made.
I couldnâ€™t help but notice that the character on screen was bound in a predicament not at all dissimilar from my own. I then watched in horror as he was brutally tortured by some deranged psychopathic businessman. The natural reaction to seeing any kind of injury like that, whether in real life or TV is to bring your hands and hold onto the spot. I wanted to do the same thing, but my hands were bound. The fear of the character on screen started to hit home to me. If she wanted toâ€¦ Lara could do the same thingâ€¦
Finally the scene ended and the movie continued on. Not long after a second victim is brought to the torture chamber and has two of his fingers cut off. I clasped my fingers together in terror. Suddenly I felt Lara approaching me.
â€œSee. Bad things can happen to you when youâ€™re tied up.â€ She whispered.
Her voice sent shivers down my spine. This chick was a psychopath, it wasnâ€™t enough just to tie me up inescapably, but now she had to play games with my head. I had to get out of here somehow.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. A wave of hope sprang over me. My sister had finally arrived to pick me up. Sheâ€™d have to figure out something was up and get me out of here!
â€œOh, someone was going to come and pick you up were they?â€ Lara said to me.
I didnâ€™t respond. What could I have said to that?
Lara disappeared, leaving the door open a crack. Not long after, I heard the door open and my sisterâ€™s familiar voice.
â€œHey, Iâ€™m here to pick up my brother.â€ She announced.
â€œUhhh, Alex, right?â€ She replied.
â€œYeah, thatâ€™s the one.â€
â€œUhm, heâ€™s not here.â€
â€œWhat?â€
â€œNo, he was gone by the time we got home.â€
â€œOh.â€
â€œWe have no idea where he went.â€
â€œThere was no note or anything?â€
â€œNo, sorry.â€
â€œWell maybe he went back to the hotel by himself.â€
â€œYeah I guess.â€
â€œOk well thanks.â€
â€œYour welcome.â€
I yelled into my gag trying to make as much noise as I could. But I couldnâ€™t make enough for my sister to hear me. To my horror I heard the door shut and a single pair of feet returned to the room.
â€œSorry honey, your dear sister isnâ€™t coming to save you.â€ Lara announced.
Now I was truly on my own.
More to come.
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Mon Jun 14, 2010 9:58 pm

Nicely well told horror story.
The way you wrote the story though where you refer to Hostel, I'd have gotten the idea that a different body part was the one tortured in the movie than what the movie shows were I not familiar with Hostel. I had to think about it a moment before I realized you were NOT referring to the genital area but the pectorals.
Still, that mistaken impression didn't hurt the story one bit. The same statement applies regardless.
Definitely prefer my own cousins to the ones in THIS story as far as TUGs are concerned.
Eagerlky awaiting the next chapter.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Qarl » Tue Jun 15, 2010 12:18 am

well written and chilling! Thanks! is there more?

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by ducttapeboy001 » Tue Jun 15, 2010 3:03 am

Well, great continuation
Plz do write more, plz...
it makes me GLaD, Im not you
And believe me Im still alive
Im doing TUGs and Im still alive.
I feel fantastic and Im stilll alive
You'd be EVIL if you're GLaD

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by chloroformmeplease » Tue Jun 15, 2010 6:47 am

Many movies are forgetful as are many TUG type stories. I confess I've never heard of the movie you referred to but then again I am not a horror fan whatsoever. Your story however is not in that category, no it is not even close as your story is most memorable and very well written.
Nothing holds my attention more in a story then good grammar does. The way you describe things is very clever and very creative. Your use of the proper words is most excellent. I look forward to reading your next chapter with great anticipation.
Treat others as you wish to be treated. Having said that I will not sit idly by while someone is disrespecting another just because they think they are better than everyone else.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Wed Jun 16, 2010 4:58 pm

I feel like I should stop and address something, I never really intended this to be a "horror" story. Maybe, psycho thriller is a better description. I included the reference to Hostel (Which I've actually never seen) entirely as a psychological trick, which obviously is the underlying theme of this whole thing. (Oh Jason, by the way, I wasn't referring to any area in particular. But it's sorta like if you see someone's throat slit on TV, the natural reaction is to reach up and grab your neck. That reaction is what I was talking about.)
I also want to add, thank you for all the compliments! Makes writing this totally worthwhile. Now let's get back to the story shall we?
A smirk of belligerent triumph covered Laraâ€™s face as she sat back on her bed and continued the movie. At this point, my head was too abuzz with thoughts to pay any attention. My sister, my one conceivable chance for rescue any time in the near future had left. What would happen when she found out I wasnâ€™t at the hotel? Would my parents start panicking? What if they called the police and started searching for me?
I had to calm myself down. I had no chance of escaping if I didnâ€™t keep a cool head.
After what felt like ten to fifteen minutes of silent agony, I looked over to my captor. (Or would it be captress?) She had fallen asleep. I couldnâ€™t help but pile insult on top of injury. She had tied me up and was trying to force me to watch this horrible gore fest, and she couldnâ€™t even be bothered to stay awake? Honestly! I suppose I should be slightly embarrassed by how long it took me to clue in that she presented me with a golden opportunity to work on my escape. She was asleep, and the noise of the TV would cover up sounds I made from Charlotte downstairs. What could possibly go wrong?
My chair was fortuitously placed ahead of the two beds. As such I started working with the soles of my feet to twist the chair around. The carpet on the floor made it a difficult process, but slowly and surely I started inching the chair away from sleeping beauty and towards Charlotteâ€™s bedside table. I could only pray that she had scissors or nail clippers or something, anything I could use to cut myself free.
I switched my gaze back and forth from the floor to my slumbering captress. I knew so much as a squeak of the floor boards could wake her up and my plan would be kaput. Inch by inch, creak by creak I shuffled my chair towards the Promised Land. The drawer looked more reachable with every passing second.
Almost in reach, I decided to give my last few shuffles a little more energyâ€¦ Bad move! Bad move!
The chair rotated too far sideways and lifted the two opposing legs right off the floor. I jammed my muscles to make myself as still as possible as my chair teetered. After a tense second, it finally fell right over, and I collapsed to the ground. My weight, as well as the chairâ€™s all impacted my left shoulder, eliciting a yelp of pain.
â€œWhat? What the hell?â€ I heard Lara say.
The jig was up.
â€œTrying to escape again were you? When will you learn?â€
Lara grabbed the chair and yanked it strait up to its sitting position. She looked me strait in the eyes once again. I saw a fire within them I hadnâ€™t seen before. I knew, this time, Iâ€™d have to pay the piper for my escape attempt. How much the cost would be, was still a mystery.
â€œDonâ€™t like the chair do ya?â€ She demanded patronizingly.
I flared my eyebrows defiantly.
â€œFine.â€
She dropped to the floor, and much to my surprise started untying my legs. Once my ankles were free she moved up to my torso. Pretty soon only my hands remained bound. Then, as quickly as sheâ€™d started, she stopped and headed for her closet. I had a bad feeling about this. A few seconds later she re-appeared, holding some kind of black object in her hand.
Suddenly I recognized what it was, if it hadnâ€™t been taped by jaw wouldâ€™ve dropped. She was carrying a 9mm pistol.
â€œIâ€™m going to untie your hands now and take you across the hall. Donâ€™t try anything.â€
I was paralyzed with fear. Tying me up, drugging me, both of these paled in comparison to being threatened with a gun. At this point there was no doubt, this wasnâ€™t just a very bad trick. This was kidnapping.
Lara made good on her word and untied my hands. I did nothing, not wanting to do anything I wasnâ€™t instructed to do, for fear of provoking her. She had a gun, I wasnâ€™t taking any chances.
â€œStand up.â€ She said quietly.
I stood, she took a second to gather up her supplies and gently laid a hand on my shoulder, pushing me out the door and across the hall to the guest room.
â€œShirt off.â€ She ordered.
I was a little stunned.
â€œHmmmmph?â€ I replied.
â€œYou heard me. Shirt off. Now.â€
I did as I was told and lifted my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. Without another word, she pushed me over and I fell onto the four-post queen size bed. She motioned for me to spread out my arms. I complied, spreading my arms towards the two posts at the head, and centering myself on it.
â€œIâ€™m going to put this away now.â€ She announced.
Without another word she took her rope and climbed onto the bed with me. Taking one rope she looped both ends around my right wrist several times, before pulling both ends to the right head post and tied it off, leaving the knot holding the tie together a good foot away from my fingers. She repeated this process on my left arm and both of my feet.
There I was, tied spread-eagle to a bed. Possibly the most vulnerable position a human being can be in.
Still remaining silent, she went back to the table and picked up the gun, lazily walking to the foot of the bed. I couldnâ€™t help but shake. Why wouldnâ€™t she just put it away? She held it up around her face. Pointed it to the ceilingâ€¦ and pulled the trigger.
I braced for a loud bang, but it never came. All there was, was a red dot on the ceiling. She lowered the dot to my chest and wiggled it around. It was a fake, all that was in the barrel was a laser pointer.
My head fell back as I breathed heavily in relief. She burst out laughing.
â€œYou actually believed this was real! You honestly thought Iâ€™d threaten someone with an actual gun?â€ She chuckled. â€œDudeâ€¦â€
Once again, I suppose I should feel embarrassed. But at that point, I didnâ€™t feel anything except relief. Though I was still her prisoner, at least I knew she wasnâ€™t going to put a bullet through my brain. Though the possibility was still there that sheâ€™d make me wish she would.
She continued chuckling as she left the room. Leaving me to inspect my bindings. As Iâ€™d done a couple of hours before in the hogtie, I started struggling violently. Again it must have looked incredibly stupid, but I didnâ€™t care. The b*tch had scared the life out of me, and seemed to be having a lot of fun doing it. I had to get away from here.
I pulled and struggled and squirmed for what felt like ten minutes. Nothing gave. Though it was strange, at one point I felt like the right bed post itself was bending. I guess I was imagining things. No matter. After a few minutes I was struggled out and just stopped to wait for whatever was coming nextâ€¦ Whatever it was, and I knew it wouldnâ€™t be pleasant.
Or would it?
Lara returned, sheâ€™d changed clothes. Or more specifically had lost clothes, to her black silk bra and panties. I wonâ€™t lie to you, she looked pretty sexy. She had a purse slung over her shoulder and two glass candleholders with candles lit inside them. She placed the candles on the bedside table and the purse on the ground. She took nothing from them at first.
Slowly and seductively she climbed onto the bed and straddled me. Even slower she leaned down and licked the side of my head. My heart was pounding in my chest and my mind was going at a thousand miles an hour. What angle was she playing? I had known Lara for little over twelve hours, one of the few things that I really knew about her was: She was always playing some kind of angle. What could she possibly be doing? Lord knows she wasnâ€™t doing this because she liked me.
It must be another trick. First she lulls me into thinking sheâ€™s a friend, I become her prisoner, she puts on a incredibly gory horror movie, making me fear for my limbs, letâ€™s me listen as my one hope of rescue leaves, scares the hell out of me with a gun, and now this. She was playing with my head like rubber ball. I knew it had to end here. I couldnâ€™t react. No matter how sexy she acted, no matter what she did, I couldnâ€™t react. Stoicism was all I had left.
She continued moving over my body and slowly caressing my skin. I didnâ€™t react. I just looked strait up towards the ceiling. She tried harder and harder. No response. I could see frustration slowly building on her face. Finally! All night Iâ€™d been playing right into her hands, and finally I was upsetting her plan. I pretended to fall asleep, and I could feel her rage radiating from down the bed.
She crawled right over me and looked me strait in the eye, as sheâ€™d done so many times before. I stared strait back, my stoical conviction burning inside me.
â€œDo you want me?â€ She asked.
I knew what I wanted to say. I started motioning with my chin, signaling for her to take the gag off. I knew I had her confused, she didnâ€™t know what I was going to say. She was so confused that she reached for a pair of scissors in her purse and cut the tape around my head. She could no longer predict my responses.
â€œLara.â€ I started, half whispering.
She leaned in closer.
â€œDo I want you?â€
She leaned in even closer.
â€œLet me think about that for a minuteâ€¦â€ I said louder. â€œUh no. I donâ€™t do ugly chicks.â€
She staggered back in shock. I knew my response was uncharacteristic even for me. But now it was finally my turn to mess with her head. Iâ€™m sure at this point usually the guys she kidnaps confess how much they want her and she does whatever she does. But not this one. This one was different.
After a minute she raised her hand and struck my face.
â€œF*ck you!â€ I said.
She reached for the tape and aggressively wrapped it around my head again as hard as she could. Sheâ€™d hear enough from me. She leaned right next to my ear and hissed:
â€œThatâ€™s how you want it? Fine!â€
She reached into her purse and grabbed two small objects, and hid them in the palm of her hand. She leaned over me again, looking down to my chest. She pulled one of the objects out of her palm and showed it to me.
Oh my God!
She was holding two alligator clips usually used by electricians. She stuck them strait on my nipples. The pain was unbearable. I started writhing and twisting, trying to turn far enough to shake the clips off. But between my bindings and Lara sitting on me, I could hardly move an inch. I could do nothing but feel the pain as the clips bit into my flesh and didnâ€™t give a millimeter.
She climbed off the bed and stood beside it, staring down at me, and probably enjoying the pain I was in. While she didnâ€™t know that I did indeed have bondage fantasies, torture of any kind had never been a part of them, and this was indeed, torture. She knew it too.
â€œHow you like it now?â€ She said.
Amidst my struggling, I found it in myself to lift my arm off the bed and flip her off.
â€œAlright then.â€
She climbed back onto the bed, straddled me once again and reached over to one of the burning candles on the bedside. Fear gripped me. I knew what was coming. She held the cup shaped candle holder over my chest and very slowly tipped it over, dripping hot candle wax onto my skin. It burned like nothing Iâ€™d ever felt before. Each drop felt like it was liquid fire strait from hell.
Her sadistic smile crossed her face as she joyfully dripped the white candle wax onto my chest. She knew how much it hurt, and she didnâ€™t want to stop. I knew I couldnâ€™t scream or wail though. No matter what she did I couldnâ€™t give the satisfaction of my pain. I had to be strong.
It felt like days had passed, drip by drip I was being consumed by fire.
Finally the candle she was using ran out of melted wax and she was forced to put it down and pick up the other one. Giving me a few seconds to breathe and prepare myself for the next assault. A few seconds more and the fire returned. I bit down on my teeth and clutched the ropes binding my wrists, pulling as hard as I could to stand the pain.
Again, it felt like the right bedpost was bending. I twisted my head up to it, and much to my surprise, saw it was damaged. The wood was cracked, maybe it had been bashed with the bedside table or the closet door one too many times.
As she dropped more and more wax I pulled harder and harder. Just praying that post would give.
By now the dried candle wax was covering most of my chest, and she was dropping it further and further up my chest towards my neck. It came closer and closer and closer until finally, the second candle ran out of wax. She was out of ammunition I still hadnâ€™t broken.
Frustrated, she threw her arms up in the air and groaned. Then she stormed out of the room.
I saw my chance. I turned back towards the bed post and continued to pull. I knew it was bending, I could hear the wood creaking and splitting as I pulled, but it held strong. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped on the rope around my fingers and pulled. I pulled and pulled and pulled and thenâ€¦ suddenlyâ€¦ it broke.
With a loud nasty sounding crack, the bedpost broke right in half. Immediately I realized I had no time to stop and celebrate, theyâ€™d heard the split and were running up to investigate. I frantically turned over and freed my left wrist. Then I moved down and untied my left leg. One more to go!
I was reaching over to free my right leg when Lara came bursting through the door to see what happened. Seeing me, she charged as fast she could. I did the first thing that came to mind, I pulled back my left leg and kicked her as hard as I could, sending her flying out into the hallway.
Now, I should stop and say that previous to now it had been a principle of mine to never use physical violence against a woman under any circumstances, no matter how dire. But franklyâ€¦ This b*tch had crossed the line!
As she staggered up to catch her breath I undid my right foot and stood up. I grabbed the duct tape from the floor and stormed towards her. As she finally stood back up, I threw my right arm around her waist and my left to her face as a handgag, and dragged her back into the room. Closing the door as gently as I could with my foot.
Fumbling with the tape in my right hand I pulled a strip off the role with my teeth and slapped it over her mouth, never letting go of her arms. With that done, I used both of my hands to grab a hold of her arms and pulled them behind her back. As she squealed in protest, I held both of her arms together with one hand and started sticking duct tape on them with the other. Within a matter of seconds, I had her wrists securely taped together. Showing no mercy, I flung her onto the bed and took hold of her feet, taping them together just as securely.
Keeping the tape in hand, I quietly opened the door and hid behind it. I was sure Charlotte heard the scuffle and was on her way up to investigate. Within a minute, I saw her figure pass the door and react with shock when she saw her sister tied up. I pounced from my hiding spot.
Within seconds I had taped her hand and foot, in much the same fashion as her sister.
I stood back and admired my handiwork taking a deep breath as I did. The two madwomen just stared at me, in disbelief that their victim had turned the tables on them. I noticed my shirt was still on the floor, I picked it and put it back on, retrieving a small part of my lost dignity.
Now what?
Do I call the cops on them and have them arrested? Possibly entering a long legal battle. Or could I just leave them there to face the wrath of my aunt.
I opted for the second course. Stepping across the hall to their room and reached into their closet and retrieved the three pairs of handcuffs I had come across several hours earlier. Back in the spare room I slapped both of the harpies into one of them above the black tape that already bound their hands. Next, not waiting for her cooperation, I lifted Charlotte off the ground and forced her onto the bed next to her sister. I grabbed the scissors from the floor and cut tape around their wrists, allowing the handcuffs to slide down to their palms. After tightening that set of cuffs, I forced the sisters to sit back to back and took the third pair of cuffs and locked the other two pairs together. Next I cut the tape around their ankles and replaced it with lengths of the bondage rope that had bound me for most the evening. Tied in the usual horizontally wrapped and vertically cinched fashion. Taking a third length of rope, I wrapped it around both of their waists and cinched it tight, pulling them even closer together.
I stood back. What else needed to be done?â€¦ Oh! The gags! Of course, those wonâ€™t hold for long!
I pulled another long strip of the tape off the roll and stuck it over the tape already covering Charlotteâ€™s mouth, I then wrapped it around both of their heads. Not only reinforcing the gags but holding their heads tightly together.
Charlotte groaned indignantly.
Now I was done. Time to go home.
I started walking toward the door, but had to turn around. I met eyes with Lara one more time, I could see the fury in her gaze had not diminished. I walked up to my former captress until our noses were almost touching.
â€œI win.â€
With that, I turned around and left the room, turning off the lights and shutting the door on my way out. Those two would have a lot of explaining to do when Aunt Diane got home.
It had been a traumatic evening, but I couldnâ€™t help but feel a spec of pride as I left the house and started walking back to the hotel. Iâ€™d been locked in a battle of minds and wills with an aggressive captor with a grudge, and had emerged victorious. I never really figured out why Charlotte and Lara had kidnapped me that night. Something to do with their own bitterness against men I guess. In any case, many years have gone by since then and I still havenâ€™t had the misfortune of running into them again. Though rest assured, it was a night that Iâ€™m sure they, nor I, will ever forget.
Thanks a lot for reading everybody!
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Qarl » Wed Jun 16, 2010 7:24 pm

Interesting and surprising ending! Way to go! Usually the guy ends up giving in to the pleasure, even if he doesn't really want it. And the writer gives in to the expected ending. Nicely done. Thanks again!

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by chloroformmeplease » Wed Jun 16, 2010 8:57 pm

Surprise ending indeed. Good story but I had hoped they would have revealed what they planned to do with him. It wasn't as though they could have kept him forver there without their mother finding out. In any case I hope he runs into them again sometime soon. hint hint!
Treat others as you wish to be treated. Having said that I will not sit idly by while someone is disrespecting another just because they think they are better than everyone else.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Wed Jun 16, 2010 10:18 pm

I was thinking the aunt would believe he assaulted her two 'innocent' daughters without cause and woulld have HIM arrested! After all, it would have been his word against theirs unless he could find evidence such as more drug-laced beers!
Sorry if you were offended by my terming this a horror story. But you must admit that if you had actually endured this situation, horror is probably at least one of the sensations you would have felt, and this is really all I meant by a horror story - sort of like Stephen King's novel "Misery" is a sort of horror story.
I agree with Chloroformeplease that it would have been nice if some of the reasons/ motivations of the sisters had been revealed, unless of course they were really totally insane in which case reason/motivation probably do not apply. Another reason that I was considering this horror by the way; logic doesn't apply in most horror (again, especially Stephen King's).
But this story was excellently told (except maybe a few too many uses of the b-word for some people) and well worth reading as is; definitely an excellent story whatever genre it best fits into... such as TUGs.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by chloroformmeplease » Thu Jun 17, 2010 8:46 pm

Jason I would like to address this paragraph that you wrote in your last reply.
I was thinking the aunt would believe he assaulted her two 'innocent' daughters without cause and woulld have HIM arrested! After all, it would have been his word against theirs unless he could find evidence such as more drug-laced beers!
Still realizing it is all purely fictional but certainly room for discussion just the same. There are way too many reasons they would not tell their adopted mother he had anything to do with them being found taped and gagged on the bed. One is that he heard the entire conversation that his adopted cousin and his sister had which helps prove he was still there at the time of her arrival to pick him up. Being that he could not come to the door why would he send someone he planned on tying up to the door instead? I mean why would he send his victim to lie about his whereabouts to his sister.
Second of all the girls obviously do not want their mother to know anything about their bondage antics so they probably say some guy forced his way into the house and bound them up to rob the place. They do not want anyone to know they like to kidnap and tie guys up so they would not bring any suspiscion upon themselves by telling their mother he tied them up because surely his side of the story would be told as well. Plus the author did say after they adopted these girls they gave them nothing but trouble ever since. That is my take on it and that they might blame some guy that doesn't exist to avoid suspiscions about what they truly do.
Treat others as you wish to be treated. Having said that I will not sit idly by while someone is disrespecting another just because they think they are better than everyone else.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Thu Jun 17, 2010 9:02 pm

Those ARE good points, C. When I wrote this though, I was thinking of some people I knew who couldn't believe ill of their children no matter how outrageously bad they acted. They'd try to convince people what angels their kids were when everyone else knew better; it's human nature I suppose. Anyway, I just threw it in as a real world type of possibility, not something I felt HAD to be the case with this story. Definitely it was NOT intended as criticism and hope no one took it that way. It was simply what I was thinking was going to happen in the story.
It might have made a fair idea for the start of a sequel though.
Anyway, as you said, it's just fiction - but it's VERY GOOD fiction, and the fact that is is very interesting is the only reason why I'd try to tie up loose ends in it or speculate what happened afterward. If I didn't really enjoy the story, I wouldn't have cared about details of the aftermath.
And like you said, I'd like to see a sequel too!!!
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by chloroformmeplease » Thu Jun 17, 2010 9:47 pm

We are very much in agreement on this one. Yes I would very much like to see a sequel. His cousins revenge or some corny title like that. Well written it was indeed.
Treat others as you wish to be treated. Having said that I will not sit idly by while someone is disrespecting another just because they think they are better than everyone else.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Thu Jun 17, 2010 10:25 pm

So Dreadnought, what ARE the chances for an eventual sequel?
No pressure.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Fri Jun 18, 2010 12:18 am

Oh man, I haven't been paying close enough attention today! Thanks a lot guys, I'm very flattered at all the compliments.
Now, as far as the story being open ended, that was to some extent the effect I was trying to achieve. A: Because this story was based on a dream and my dream wasn't really resolved either. And in a sense I think it adds to the mystique of a villian to not know what their objectives are. B: With this particular story my main focus was on the psychology, or dynamics of the captor/captive relationship, more specifically, a female captor to male captive. (Which, I think, is why Chloro is so intrested in this! hehe)
For example, for the majority of the story Lara is clearly in control of situation. Not only is she holding Alex captive, but she ialwaysl bossing her little sister around. Later on when Alex didin't respond to Lara's sexual tempting, in a sense, he took control of the situation. I think (and I'm sure most will agree with me) that at its basis, bondage is all about control, and it was that concept that I was trying to probe.
So for those of you who are curious, what I thought of as the girl's endgame (though I never had any intention of using this as an ending) would be to have their fun, and if the guy they'd kidnapped hadn't really submitted to the pleasure of the situation, they would take compromising photos of him and he would be blackmailed into silence after his release. This pattern was of course broken, and judging by Lara getting up and storming out of the room, she didn't know what to do next. Also, concerning what happened when Aunt Diane got home: I imagine the girls would've been forced to fess up to some extent. Assuming Diane isn't a total idiot, she'd have to notice that nothing was stolen, there are no signs of forced entry and aside from the bed post there were no signs of a struggle. Though their confession wouldn't definitely be limited. But! Those aren't details included in the story, so if you have a different idea your totally free to believe that! That's the beauty of fiction, the possibilites are endless!
As far as a sequel goes... Well, this story has gotten more attention than all my other ones combined lol, so I think it'd be pretty crazy not to continue. Therefore! I'll start working up another one as soon as my laptop gets back from the shop. This time I think I'll go into more detail into the girl's, their history, their motivations that sort of thing. Hopefully I can live up to the expectations.
Thanks again for your interest guys, it really makes writing this stuff worthwhile.
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by Jason Toddman » Fri Jun 18, 2010 6:56 am

Cool. I at least will be waiting. Well, I'll keep busy of course in the meantime, but I'll be looking forward to it.
Important thing is take your time and write in the way that pleases YOU best and let it go from there.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by theseeker » Fri Jun 18, 2010 6:44 pm

I dug this story. Nice to see someone actually taking the time to write a story as opposed to just throwing one together. Good job.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by ducttapeboy001 » Sat Jun 19, 2010 2:25 am

Great ending.
I jus loved this story, one of the best stories I've had read.
Just love F/M stories especially when they're written in a great form
btw what happened to the wax on Alex's chest, he forgot ??
Hoping for a sequel
it makes me GLaD, Im not you
And believe me Im still alive
Im doing TUGs and Im still alive.
I feel fantastic and Im stilll alive
You'd be EVIL if you're GLaD

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by ilikebeingtiedup » Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:23 pm

wow i am so happy someone wrote a story like this. Most times when a guy is assaulted by women he ends up as their mindless slave with no fight whatsoever. I applaud your writing skills and the fact you allowed the male lead to fight back( YAY!!) keep up the good work.

### Re: Madwomen FF/M

Post by tightbound » Fri Aug 28, 2015 1:22 am

Awesome story