My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Mon Jun 24, 2013 9:42 am

Yes, a little Thurber rip-off--I mean, tribute (yeah, that's the ticket!)--as I move my fictional Paula Ryan into the start of her college days. This is a continuation of the original Dear Sally Diary in the Fictional Intimate TUGS folder, but will get much more adult in deference to Paula's new maturity as a newbie college freshman. For anyone following my current tales at GDIT or dA, there may be some spoilers in here, but this new tale is more about Paula Ryan changing from girl to young coed, and the challenges thereof. Thus...

Be patient of both the development and the spoilers, dear friend. Paula has had much to work through from the last months of her high-school career (as one can see from Gleeks Ahoy! http://watertown.fr.yuku.com/topic/1955/The-Darius-Allen-Detective-Club-Gleeks-Ahoy#.UciEuzvii70, and I assure you that things will get more exciting quickly...
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My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

by Paula D. Ryan

Dear Sally,
I’m very sorry it has been so long since I’ve talked with you! I have no excuses for it, especially knowing that you have always been my greatest and most sublime comfort, but the feeling I have had ever since last autumn and those horrible things is that of someone trying to swim her way out a whirlpool dragging her down into the lowest depths of helpless sorrow and rage. Only now, with the end of my high-school nonage and the changes I’ve put myself through, do I feel like I have the strength and the calm seas to be able to talk with you again. I’m sorry this had to wait until this, the very last night I will ever write to you in this beloved old room in which I first discovered you, and I make no excuses other than that I just made. There is little in this room but the bed I lie on at this midnight hour, and me myself.

I never thought I’d want to leave home, you’ve known that for as long as we’ve known each other, but there really is no other way after autumn. I can’t describe the despair of knowing there are certain places, certain rooms in my home, the home I love as much as I love my family, that I cannot bear to even look at, much less enter. When it had only been Hesther’s room, I could bear the pain of remembering her last gasping little breaths there by also remembering the sweetness of innocent days and sisterly fun we spent throughout her short life. But now, after Kellie…I cannot describe the agony that radiates from that room now! No, I cannot describe it, Sally, because to let myself linger on it drives me into depths of despair I fear I might never escape. You know that despair, I know, you have to because it lives in the very walls and air of the whole house, but especially in that room. I cannot speak more about this, lest my agony consume me even on this last night here. It is a cowardly feeling to know I can’t stay where I have loved and been loved, but my only escape lies in my new start.

Perhaps it is because I’ve always had such a small family and small circle of friends, but I never knew that there was a world out there that looked on me with anything but indifference! I don’t mean my dear soulmate Richie, of course; his love is my greatest anchor through all these stormy seas! And to have that word attached to him, attached to me—fiancée! To know that certainty, to have that comfort! To be affianced to my dear Richie and know that our futures will be one! But I never knew that his love had placed me in such a large circle of love and regard! Just thinking of the family I now know I will be attached to strikes me with amazement when I compare it with how small my old life had been! When Richie knew I had to find escape from the crushing hours alone in my house with Hesther and Kellie haunting me, his stepfather Dave Miyazaki found me work in the Snowden Public Library before I even knew where to look, and asked of me no other favor than my happiness in the work he had found me! When my agony here was too much to bear, his sister Tricia came to my aid and offered me the refuge in her off-campus home to which I fly tomorrow! I offered rent to Dr. Miyazaki—he refused it! “No rent from family,” he said. “From family!” as if I was already a member of it! I moved my things to this new home, this Chateau Snoop as it is called, and Richie’s family came unbidden to my aid, taking no other recompense than the thanks I could give them! And now, past midnight, dear, dear Sally—this is the day my new life begins! No longer Ward Row, Wiltontown, but Schaefer Street, Snowden! No longer Darius Allen High School, but Snowden State University! No longer Richie’s girlfriend, but his fiancée! No longer the timid, provincial Paula Deborah Ryan, but Ms. Paula D. Ryan, Snowden State freshman and assistant librarian! When next I speak with you, dear Sally, those things will no longer be dreams, but realities!

Dear Sally,
One never knows how cataclysmic changes in one’s life can be until they are lived! I write you tonight, dear Sally, not as the child of Ward Row but as a Snoop of Snoop Towers! My new life has begun—and what a life it promises to be!

You know, of course, that I have made this move many, many weeks before my new college life required it, and you of course know the reason why. Perhaps this was to my advantage, because it has allowed me to step into this strange new life with perhaps a little more ease than it would have been had I had to combine all the stresses of the move with the stresses of starting my student life at Snowden State. In fact, my Incoming Freshman Seminar is still two weeks away, and I will already be acclimated to my new, semi-independent life.

What I might not yet be acclimated to is my new roommates! Fortunately, I’ve not had to adjust to all of them at once, but even those I have met are…let’s call them unique! Tricia, of course (my future sister-in-law!), is first. She is much as I remember her from West Side Story at Darius Allen from years ago; still diminutive and buxom with her lush hourglass figure and rich brunette hair, but much less now the odd preppy-grunge schoolgirl pastiche than a young professional, from her dress to her attitude toward her studies. She is, of course, studying criminal forensic sciences at State, and much of her life seems to be circumscribed by evidentiary procedures, impact physics, spatter patterns, and endless minutiae of nucleotides, base pairs, and all the like of DNA. When I arrived there this morning (after promising Mother and Father I would visit home regularly), Tricia was there at the front door of the big old wooden house to greet me, comfortable in Keds sneakers, plaid shorts and a short-sleeved white sleeveless blouse buttoned loosely at her collar. I entered to find all my things still stacked in their large but rather sparse living room, which took me by surprise. “We have a choice of rooms for you! Well, actually, we’re still deciding who gets to adopt you as a roomie! Missy’s moving in with her grandma after that stroke this spring so Missy can take care of her, and with Carrie getting married and Ophie moving into Snowden Commons, we have a few options where to put you!” This was the part I found most nerve-wracking, Sally; you know how uncomfortable I am with strangers, and I knew nothing of the Missy or Ophie she mentioned, and little enough about Carrie Lamm except that she too came from Wiltontown and had been part of West Side Story that one year. I was surprised that Carrie, large as I remember her, had gotten married! “Oh, don’t worry your little head, Paula,” she reassured me when she saw my nervousness, “we won’t hurt you!” but she gave a wry little flicker of a glance at the ceiling as if she was thinking of something or someone. Which of course didn’t help my nerves!

She showed me to the kitchen, where I saw another familiar face from my earliest Darius Allen days. Krysten Parker was still as petite as I am, still slight and delicate in her pink Snowden State tee and red shorts, and still with the wavy mane of fire-red hair and the peaches-and-cream complexion I remembered so well from that time, but seeming much more confident and mature than those days. She greeted me with a sweet “hello, Paula!” from her seat at their rather threadbare kitchen table, where she was nibbling from a cup of yogurt. “Well, Fresh Meat Number One is here, Krys!” Tricia giggled, which nickname did little to ease my nerves, as you can imagine, Sally! “Do you want her in your brand-new room?”

“I’ll take Chell instead,” she demurred with a tiny shrug. “You don’t often get a chance to torture your kid sister away from your parents, after all!” I was surprised; I didn’t know my Darius Allen classmate Chelsea Parker was going to be one of my new roommates! I ventured to say as much. “You didn’t know?” Krysten asked conversationally. She was much more genial than I had imagined her to be considering the change in her relationship with her own fiancé Tyler Dwight after that spring. I miss both him and Cora, but am excited for them both! “I talked Chell into rooming with us here at the Chateau this year, but she doesn’t know she’ll be sharing a room with me! It’ll kill her!” Krysten tittered.

“Well, she wouldn’t have except for me getting Felicity Mabrey to move here too!” Another Darius Allen classmate! While Chelsea, athlete that she was, didn’t often cross my path, I was fairly comfortable with Felicity Mabrey in a somewhat distant way. We were both part of a certain group that liked to congregate at the Allen Valley Mall on Fridays, and while her personal style—which her younger sister and my friend Serenity Mabrey from the Darius Allen High Detective Club called “emo-pirate”—was rather different from my own, we both tended rather toward the dark side of things, and were friendly in a casual way. I found myself looking forward to having her here! “Okay, then,” Tricia mused after inviting me to make myself at home in the kitchen and grab whatever I wanted for breakfast, “since Hannah and Maggie are keeping their old room, I get to choose between Felicity and Paula here.”

“And Ginger gets the other one!” Krysten giggled in a way that struck my senses in an odd way, as if there was something odd and perhaps sinister about this unknown Ginger. I think the best way to describe Krysten’s expression is that it said “God help her!” without the use of words. Which didn’t help my nervousness at all!

“Okay, then,” Tricia said, asserting herself in a way with which I was already familiar. “One question, Paula.” She cast a wry glare at Krysten. “Do you try to sing yourself awake at six in the morn”—and then she stopped with a smile at me after another eye-roll at Krysten. “Forget it,” she said. “I heard you at GleeFest, so I know you can at least carry a tune! I’ll take you! Just don’t sing until I’m almost awake, though, okay?” I said okay, feeling a little odd at being bartered by Tricia and Krysten in that way but glad I would be rooming with—well, as Dr. Miyazaki would put it, with family!

“Which means no singing until three in the afternoon, Paula!” Krysten said with an edge in her voice which went far to explaining Tricia’s question.

“I’m awake now, aren’t I?” Tricia gave back. “If you hear the cats screaming in the middle of the night, Paula, you’ll know it’s Krys here trying to sing!”

“Hey, now!” a voice called from behind me where I stood in the kitchen doorway, and I felt a new presence behind me in the hallway, and somehow I managed to suppress a gasp when a small feminine hand fell onto my shoulder. “This is no way to break in a new roomie! She’ll get all the wrong ideas!” The hand now became a girl ducking around me into the kitchen. She was small and petite much like me, maybe a half-inch taller, dressed in jet-black tee, short shorts, and flip-flops. She had a black-eyed Asian face which bore a vague resemblance to the actress Brenda Song, and short-cropped jet-black hair cut even shorter than mine. Small as she was, she carried herself with easy, I might even say humorous confidence as she turned to me and offered her hand. “Don’t mind Trish and Krys; they bitch a lot, but they really love each other!” I had started to move to shake her hand, but she reached out and took my hand quickly and assertively. “So you’re Paula Ryan! I’ve wanted to meet you! I’m Ginger, Ginger O’Day. Criminal-sciences major, concentration on forensic psychology. And yes, everything you’re heard about me is probably true!” She wore a huge smile, intimidating yet intriguing in its way. Her hand was warm in mine—

“Down, Ginger!” Trish said, humorously but with a certain sense of warning in her tone. “She’s mine and you can’t have her!”

“Yes, Mother!” Ginger teased back. “I promise I won’t corrupt our virtuous new roomie!” But there was something in Ginger’s expression which seemed to silently add a word to her little tease, and that word felt like yet! “So let’s get her moved in already! Paula’s husband is waiting in the living room with our landlord!” Krysten and Trish smiled and shrugged, and soon the six of us were busy moving my things into the new room in which I am writing these words to you, Sally!

Even with six of us, the moving was difficult, especially in the hot late-June sun. “So where are Hannah and Maggie?” Krysten finally demanded with a breathless huff as Richie and Dr. Miyazaki left to pick up a few more things from my house. “Hiding out?”

“They spent the night at DRK House,” Tricia smirked with a trace of disgust on her face. “Probably sharing Tristan Shulbert again!”

“DRK House?” I asked.

“Delta Rho Kappa House,” Tricia explained. “Our sibling fraternity.”

Ginger laughed suddenly. “I hope they remembered to untie him from his bed this time!” I actually gasped! Hannah and Maggie? I knew them both from Darius Allen and West Side Story, of course, Hannah and Maggie O’Hara. I’ve mentioned them before, Sally, the stepsisters who played in the chorus. Hannah was a Jets girl and Maggie was a Sharks girl. I remember how beautifully she danced! And the way Ginger talked about them was shocking! Ginger mist have noticed my reaction, because she laughed again and patted my shoulder. “I see we have an innocent here, guys! Doesn’t know what goes on between Geeks and Dorks! You don’t expect this kind of innocence in a legacy!”

“Legacy?” I asked, confused.

“Someone who has family in the sorority,” Trish explained. “You mean you didn’t know? Your mom was a GKE sister! Deborah McGann, 1988 to 1992! She never told you this?”

“No,” I admitted. “I wonder why not?” I looked up to see what they thought, and I saw they were sharing a smiling little inside-joke look which only tore at my nerves again!

Tricia noticed my reaction and smiled comfortingly. “Don’t worry yourself about it, roomie! It’s just going to be another adventure! You’re going to be fine, Paula. I know all this is new to you, it always is when you’re just starting out. But you have a whole bunch of roomies to look out for you, and we promise we won’t laugh at you. Well, at least very much!” she said, inviting me to laugh. “Now, if only we could get Hannah and Maggie to leave poor Tristan alone and come help!”

They did later in the day, Sally. They were just as I remembered them, both tall and trim, Hannah as golden-tressed as ever, Maggie still sultry in her Italian-nerd way. Tricia, Krysten, and Ginger teased them about “poor Tristan,” which they found very funny! “We would have untied him from the bed,” Maggie giggled at one point, “but he wanted us to keep him there for Missy!” They all laughed, and I felt left out of the joke. “He used to date Missy back in middle school before she moved out west,” Trish explained over Big Mama’s pizza that evening after we finished setting up my half of my new room, “then he dated Hannah our senior year at Darius Allen. Maggie just sort of wormed her way in with him last year. The three of them sort of share him now.”

“But I was the one who was the Sister of Unity with him, Trish!” Hannah giggled with a proud little smile on her bespectacled face. Between me, Tricia, Hannah, and Maggie, half of our house will be girls who wear glasses!

“And what’s that?” I asked. “Something to do with your sorority?” I really do have to ask Mother about this Gamma Kappa Epsilon sorority!

They shared a strange, covert glance and smile. “There’s only one way to find that out!” Tricia winked. “We start rush at the end of September!” And things drifted away into other idle conversation. Richie dropped in for a short while, and I’ve only just got off the phone with Mom and Dad, who are taking my move well, at least I hope.

The entire day has worn me out, Sally. Tricia is still at the university forensics lab, as Krysten assures me is common with her. Hannah and Maggie are spending a late evening dinner with their parents, and Ginger is at the student union. Only Krysten is in the house, Sally, which leaves me all alone in my new bedroom to share this day with you. There is so much mystery ahead, and so much of which I am still uncertain and even a little frightened, but I also feel a sense of reassurance, a sense that I am surrounded by friends and family who will protect and guide me through the adventures yet to come. And you too, of course, Sally, my dearest confidante, to hear of all my adventures to come!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Part 2

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Wed Jun 26, 2013 7:04 pm

In Part 2, Paula makes a new discovery about the freedom of being away from the folks and their rules. Enjoy!...
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Dear Sally,
As you might have expected, Sally, Mom and Dad make regular pilgrimages here to Snoop Towers, a.k.a. Chateau Snoop, a.k.a. 141 Schaefer Street. They keep busy, but I understand that they are suffering badly from what Ginger (ever the psychologist) calls empty-nest syndrome. Dad has found an excuse to drop in every other day to do some small maintenance with my car, usually with Ginger hanging around talking to him as he works (and giving him some very discomfiting glances, I must say!); Mom is here nearly as often with care packages of food and extra clothing and decorations for my room. The rest of my roommates find it amusing, and tease me about umbilical cords that reach from Snowden to Wiltontown, and I’ve learned to take the teasing in the good-natured spirit in which it is given. As Tricia, ever the detective, has pointed out, neither Mom nor Dad ever show up at any time I’m at work in the Snowden Library, but only when they know I will be home. Strange that even after only a few days, I think of Chateau Snoop as home!

Richie of course also drops in often, sometimes to see his sister Trish, but usually to see me. He’s still living at his home on Passmore Street until he and his friends finally get to move into a little place across campus, but that is only a number of blocks away, so it is easy for him to visit and stay late. And no curfew! It was strange the first night he visited when the time for my traditional curfew came—we both got suddenly nervous that I was going to get in trouble before we both realized I was already home and had no more use for curfews anymore! And that was when I really began to understand the advantages of my new home!

You of course know about our first real intimacy, Sally, the night after the prom which now seems like it happened so long ago when in fact it’s only been a few weeks! You know how the magical, thrilling sensuousness of that night felt just the least bit undercut by the dissonance of having to sneak to a quiet spot on Baxter Road, the tiniest bit of disappointment that the first time I gave myself completely to my love, it was in the back of his truck, no matter how considerately he had cleaned and decorated what was our first bed together. It was only after the time for my old curfew had passed to our guilty giggles that we really understood our new freedom. Tricia, my closest roommate whose room I share, was late at the forensics lab (even in summer she works interminable hours there!), and later called to let us know she would herself spend some time at DRK House with her own fiancé Bobby Martin. Chastely, of course, because Tricia’s self-control is admirable, as is Bobby’s patience! It was a quiet evening, which we had spent sitting on our rather worn-down sofa in the Chateau Snoop living room and talking, and occasionally not watching a movie on hour house’s shared Netflix account. And yes, The Missing is still our favorite! And then, all of a sudden, my old curfew had come and gone! We had hours!

I know it was very wanton of me, Sally, but it was I who made the first move, teasing with a naughty little caress of his already-bulging manhood, then pulling him up to his feet with a smile and giggle. “Maybe you ought to see me to my room,” I teased, “to make sure I’m not waylaid on the way there!” He laughed and let me lead him upstairs to my room—to my room! Us alone in my room! The very thought was intoxicating! I was moistening even as we climbed the stairs, and I tried to quickly author an amusing, erotic scenario for our first time uninhibited by rules. Soon enough, we were at my door, and I had an idea! “Maybe you’d better search my room for burglars, sir!” I peeped in melodramatic style. “There’s ever so much risk for a young woman living alone!” He giggled himself, also thrilled by the thought of us being finally completely alone, and did as I asked, theatrically searching the corners of my room. But while he did, I quickly prepared at the doorway! I had already slipped out of my shoes long ago, which left little to do then. I was dressed for my closing shift at the library that day, in a simple white blouse and a plain, straight navy-blue skirt, all of which I slipped off with easy silence while Richie’s back was turned. He was laughing as he peered into each little cranny of the room, calling out “nothing here!” and “nothing here either!”, and his playfulness let me disrobe even further. I peeled away my bra, then finally my already-moist panties fell away—just in time for Richie to finally straighten up, turn, and see me! My face was on fire as I stood before him wearing nothing but my lust, and he gaped at my nude form before him. And oh, Sally, how his manhood strained inside his jeans! It looked like it wanted to burst!

Oh, his enthusiasm, Sally! He started tearing off his clothes, but I stepped into the room and stopped him. This was my moment! Slowly, as teasingly as ever I’ve done, I undid his clothes; his shirt, his jeans, finally the boxers which were the last sheath between me and his manhood! Oh, how aroused he was! And then, there we were, naked and alone! How passionate! How wonderfully perfect our liaison, with no rules, no curfews, no overbearing supervision! I can hardly describe how perfect it was, Sally!

I lay supine on my bed, Richie lying above me with his weight on his elbows as he gathered his breath from our climax, the moonlight through my window blinds sprinkling a glow on his shoulders and backside. I didn’t think I could ever feel more perfect, Sally—until he smiled with a sly glimmer in his lovely eyes! “You know,” he giggled, rolling over to one elbow beside me, perched precariously on the edge of my too-small bed, “I might not have done a good enough job of checking the room, miss! There might still be an intruder! And my heart leapt, Sally, absolutely leapt! I knew what he had in mind! Oh, how long it had been!

It had been so very long since the last time we had played our erotic tie-up games! After the prom, it had faded somewhat in our new intimacy, but now—there!—he remembered! His smiling warning was his invitation—and I needed to fear no trouble, no interruption! “Sir, what do you mean?” I asked, fluttering a hand over my heart in true damsel fashion. “Could there be an intruder here?”

Richie rose, and already his tumescence was rising again! “Oh, miss,” he smiled, strolling across to my dresser (revealing his beautifully round and firm derriere to me!), “I know there’s an intruder here!” Only then did I realize what he’d left there—I’d been too busy disrobing myself to have noticed!

I played my part! “Sir! Are you the intruder?” I squeaked, jumping from my bed and running toward my closed bedroom door. It was unlocked, of course, but I played the role of the trapped damsel—“Help! Oh, help!” I cried, cowering against the closed door. Richie hesitated only a moment, gazing at my nude body in front of him, then stalked toward me—rope in hand! “Please, sir! Please don’t harm me!” He advanced with a lustful grin on his face, his body hard and taut, the rope dangling from his fingers! I pressed myself against the door, my hands against the door at my sides, deliciously at bay!

But at bay only long enough for Richie to seize my arm and spin me away from the door! A quick yank, and I spun toward him, my back bouncing off his front, his tumescence probing firmly at my bottom! I made my best theatrical gasp, but his only answer was to seize my other arm and drag them both behind me! “Sir!” I squealed. “You can’t mean to tie me up! Surely you won’t tie me up?” But his answer was just what I wanted—his big strong hands pinned my wrists crossed over each other in the small of my back, and plied the rope hard around my defenseless wrists! I squealed and wriggled in mock protest, the better to prod him into tightening the ropes binding my hands behind my back. “Sir! Please! Don’t! Stop!” The second time I said it, of course, there was no punctuation between the “don’t” and the “stop!” I know, I’m so naughty! And of course, he didn’t stop!

“I’m not nearly done with you, miss!” he chuckled in his best evil voice, and on the very moment I felt him wrap a new loop of rope—around my elbows! He’d never done that to be before!

“What is the meaning of this!” I squealed, not entirely in character either! “Why”—

“I’m making your arms completely helpless, miss!” he chortled as he pulled my elbows close together under their loops of rope, and the tension they made against my shoulders seemed to stretch my chest wide! As he knotted this new rope, I happened to glance down at myself; I know I’ve never considered myself well-endowed, Sally, but the tension of the ropes around my elbows made my nude breasts stand out high and proud on my chest! I’ve never felt so helplessly, deliciously vulnerable as I did at that very moment, Sally—my naked breasts high and taut and utterly helpless to my Richie’s touch! With each of my heavy breaths, they swelled and heaved, and the tickle of the night air and my unrestrained, unbound imagination raised my nipples to almost painful firmness! And no curfew, no limitations on us! I would be his prisoner, to be toyed and played with at my Richie’s utter will! The last knot, the last gasp from my lips as my elbows were secured tightly! There was no escape for my hands and arms—I was absolutely his prisoner!

“Sir!” I cried, fighting through my lust to hold to my role, “What are you ever going to do to me?” Help! Help!”

“One thing I’m going to do, my little prisoner,” he grinned, “is make sure you can’t call for help!” A gag! What a perfect accessory! And he was so very prepared, Sally! He turned back toward my dresser for an instant while I tugged at my deliciously unyielding bonds, and when he turned back toward me I saw an enormous red bandanna in his hands, and as I slowly backed away from him until I was again at bay against the closed door, he teased the rolled-up bandanna into a large knot at its center—a knot meant to fill up my mouth!

“Please, sir!” I pleaded, playing out the scene, “I’ll be quiet! I’ll be good! Just please don’t gag me!” He laughed his wonderfully villainous laugh, stalking ever closer to me with my gag ready in his hands. As he stalked toward me, I could follow his gaze as his eyes devoured my helpless nude form, settling on my taut, helpless breasts and my bulging nipples—and oh, Sally, how his manhood bulged and quivered at the sight of me in my erotic distress! I ached for him to claim my body again!

But first my gag! No more than a step away from me, and he reached out—seized my arm just below my shoulder—and pulled me toward him. I made sure to resist feebly, as a good damsel must, and my resistance served to throw me the harder against him as he spun me against him, my back to him, his tumescence digging into the cleft of my backside. My fingers could just reach his tip as he reached around me and pinched my jaw open, and his breath was ragged as the other hand forced the big knot between my lips. His heart pounded and his temperature was scalding my back as he tied off the gag at the nape of my neck, his manhood quivering hot beneath my touch!

Now his hands, my gagging complete, slipped over my bare shoulders, reaching around me until his magical hands had my breasts cupped in their grip. Only a single moment and his thumbs had found my nipples , teasing and prodding as my whole body convulsed electrically against him! I cried out through my gag—squealed—and as the cloth absorbed my voice and resonated it back through my helpless body, my arousal melted inside me volcanically—my squeals became moans, even shrieks! I writhed against him, inflaming myself with my gagged cries as a hand slipped down from my breast, fingertips brushing teasingly down my abdomen, over my writhing hip, relentlessly toward my soaking, radiant center!

I’m sorry, Sally, but I must pause for a moment. I think I need another shower!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Jun 30, 2013 12:31 pm

Moved to the More Intimates section at the author's own request.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Part 3

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Mon Jul 01, 2013 10:22 am

Thanks, Jason, for moving this tale for me. And since this is the Intimate section, well, Paula and Richie are about to get seriously intimate!...
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Dear Sally,
A shower can scrub my body clean, but the memory of this wild night is impervious to any soap or water! The thoughts, the sensations return to my memory, and my body instantly responds! Even as I showered, I could remember every touch of his body against mine as if it had been happening at that very moment!

I had stopped, dear friend Sally, as his fingers found my feminine center, already fairly gushing moisture in anticipation of him. My conscious mind had been all but erased—my whole mind was nothing but a ravenous desire for him to claim me, penetrate me, take me in any way he wanted! And I could feel his desire, his lust for my body making him quiver! Oh, to know that my poor little self can stoke such desire in him! How heavenly!

As I’ve said before, my arms were absolutely, helplessly bound. My wrists had been crossed over each other and tied, not cruelly but inescapably. Even had he not devoted his unexpected attentions to my elbows, I could never have freed my hands, but the rope coiled around my elbows, drawing them close but not quite touching each other, made any escape impossible. My mouth had been filled with his knotted bandanna, leaving me only my cries of lust as his hands explored my defenseless body! And I explored his body too, Sally, no matter that my hands were tied. My shoulders caressed his chest; my bottom teased his manhood while my fingers probed his very tip. I could feel him quiver, hear and feel his ragged breath, could feel his heart pounding in his chest! My lust, shouting down all my rational thought, ached to bring him off, to stoke his lust until he exploded! I was climaxing even at the thought of it!

But he calmed, cooled a little, backed off with a thundering sigh. “Gotta…gotta slow down,” he panted, I think more for himself than for me. “God…Paula…” His hands rose up to my bound elbows, my shoulders, his fingers light and delicate on my flesh. “If I had my way, I’d…wow…” His breath continued to pant in and out, and I knew he was trying to control himself before he climaxed before he wanted. He backed away a step, but I wriggled back against him, teasing the cleft of my bottom hard against his firm manhood. I hoped my message was clear; I wanted him to take me! “Paula…” he gasped, but still I teased at him, “right now, I swear I could…I could take you right now, just like this, all tied up and helpless!” I cooed through my gag, finally turning to smile at him as best I could with my mouth filled. I arched my back, wiggling my breasts a little to entice him, to answer what I knew he wanted to ask. “Do you want that? Really? While you’re tied up and gagged?”

The fortunate thing about a gag, especially a gag like the one that was in my mouth at that moment, is that is allows one just a little bit of voice. So he could perfectly understand my mm-hmm to him! And when he did, he could not hide the sudden shudder of excitement which passed over him! “Really?” he asked again as he sat on the edge of my bed, as if he didn’t trust my first answer. My reply was to slither (!) up to him and lower myself onto his knee, caressing myself against the flesh of his leg. That brought my breasts right up to his mouth, and my touch brought him back to me; his lips and teeth stroked my nipple, and I squealed with delight as his touch shot radiance all through my body again! His arms wrapped around me again, his hands cupping my bottom as I ground myself against him, but only for a moment until he slipped his leg from beneath me, stood, and scooped me up in his embrace. I squealed again, knowing he was going to take my bound body, and after he teased his teeth at the nape of my neck a moment, he laid me back supine on my bed, helpless to his pleasure!

Had only my wrists been bound, I think there would have been no problem, Sally. I’m small enough, and my arms are thin enough, that I could have lain on my wrists with ease. In fact, doing so would have arched my back in what might have been an alluring way! But with my elbows bound as well, I was lying completely on my arms, and for just an instant I winced from the new position. For just an instant, Sally, because my lust was still so alive in me that I didn’t care about the position in which he took me, just that he did. But Richie—oh, how wonderfully perceptive he is!—hesitated, seeing that one moment of wince that a lesser man would have missed or ignored! Hesitated out of concern for me!

“This won’t work,” he muttered, scooping me up to sit beside him where he had laid me. “I don’t want to hurt you!” He was no longer in his villain character, just Richie, Richie worried about my comfort! But I didn’t want to lose the moment, so I purred and wriggled myself against him, caressing him with my body, and gazed into his eyes with all the lust which flowed inside me. “But you really want this, don’t you?” he giggled. Like I said, he’s so perceptive! “You like being my little bondage playtoy, don’t you?” Of course I answered mm-hmm, Sally! “Ain’t you naughty!” he laughed, nuzzling the nape of my neck and giving my nipples a playful tease. Inflamed as I was with desire for him, even his gentle teasing nearly climaxed me! “Maybe I ought to paddle your butt when I’m finished!” I gasped a little—I’ve been spoiled enough to have never been spanked!—and in an instant, his eyes flashed with an idea! “Hmm…” he sighed, caressing my helpless body, and in another instant his face flushed bright red! Another “hmm…” and he swung himself behind me on the edge of the bed. I wasn’t quite certain what he had in mind for me, but in a moment I had my answer. Gently he lifted me to my knees on the bed, scooting me forward a little, and as soon as he had space, he hopped up behind me, nuzzling my neck and back with his mouth and pressing himself against me. A moment of confusion, which Richie must have sensed, because he whispered in my ear with a naughty giggle, “I think I can reach, even from this direction!” My breath caught as I imagined what he wanted of me—“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” How wonderful of him to think of my wishes even at that moment! I nodded and mewled a mm-hmm through my gag; he savored one last nuzzle at the nape of my neck, a playful nibble of my ear, and his hands lowered me slowly down until my face lay in the sheets at the foot of the bed.

Sally, I’ve never ever felt so helplessly vulnerable as I did at that moment! I knelt on the bed, my knees splayed far apart, my face in the sheets, my bound arms pinioned above me tied tightly behind my back, and my bottom perched high in the air behind me, utterly defenseless! As I wriggled beneath his guiding touch, my inflamed breasts rubbed the sheets, prodding my into ecstasy! I was desperate for him to take me!

But he wasn’t finished toying with me! “Look at this cute little ass!” he giggled, patting my bottom; as drowned in lust as I was, the sharp little pats radiated straight to my humid sex, prodding a purring squeal from my gagged lips. “Ooh, I think my little prisoner likes that!” I was beyond mm-hmms—I cried out through my gag and wiggled my bottom toward him! “Now what should I do to her next?”

And I was so fortunate I was gagged, Sally, because a word passed my lips I’ve never ever said before! I still don’t know what made me say it, other than the desperate desire raging through my whole body to be taken, but almost involuntarily I heard my voice, muffled by my gag! “Fmmk mmph!” I cried in a lustful moan—like I said, something I’ve never said before! I actually said it!

But Richie understood! “Why, you naughty girl!” he chuckled. “I ought to wash your mouth out with soap!” I was blushing so hard, Sally! “And be careful what you wish for,” he growled, “because you might get it!” And I felt him position himself behind me between my feet, felt the tip of himself probing my cleft—and in a radiant moment, he found his target and delved into me! The odd, unexpected angle of his entry startled me, but my body responded with fire! I squealed, I shrieked, I even screamed through my gag as Richie impaled me, filled me with himself! I climaxed almost immediately, and as he plied himself deep inside me my body melted into what felt like one continuous, fiery, radiant climax! I distantly heard his moans as my sex closed down on him, and his hands found my waist, lifting my body from the sheets as he took me! Beyond thought, I felt his hot hands slide up my body, my sides, cupping again over my tingling breasts—I heard him squeak, a sign I already knew meant he was at the point of his own climax—

And then I heard the door open!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Sun Jul 07, 2013 11:28 am

Wow, what a story so far, Mr. M.! You do a great job making this story adult but still with class and the kind of innocence I'd expect from Paula.

As for the spoilers, after your last chapter of Gleeks Ahoy the mention of Kellie isn't so much a spoiler as a confirmation of what I figured had happened. But the change in status between Krysten and Tyler? And missing him and Cora but being happy for them... Hmmm, there's something coming up that I definitely don't know about yet, and you have me very curious.

I'm looking forward to seeing what other things happen during this tale. I wonder if Paula and Richie will decide to join GKE and DRK, and then maybe we'll get to see some of the interesting traditions those two groups have with each other. But more immediately, I wonder who's coming into the room. It's probably Trish, in which case, poor girl. This would mean her walking in on Tyler, Abby, and now Richie. I wonder if for Paula and Richie's sakes I should hope it's Ginger walking in. :)

Part 4

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Wed Jul 10, 2013 7:28 am

Well, Zaphod, since you want to see who's coming through the door...
**********************************

Dear Sally,
One of the strangest mess of emotions one can feel is to be disturbed at just that moment, Sally! I was drowning in my lust, squealing and shrieking through my gag as Richie’s manhood impaled me deeper and ever deeper, and also startled and distinctly frightened—and then, through my dimmed eyes, I saw who it was! It was Tricia! My roommate had just walked in on Richie and me! I faintly heard a gasp—a squeak—and the door slammed shut! There I was being—well, let’s just say that word-ed!—like I’d never been before, and his very own sister walked in on us! “Mortified” doesn’t even begin to describe it!

And at first, Richie didn’t even know! His growling and moaning hadn’t changed at all as the door opened, and as Trish gasped and squeaked, he kept—well, again, let’s just say that word-ing me! In fact, just to make everything even more insane, he had just reached his climax, and his liquid self was gushing fiery into me, just as the door slammed! Then it was Richie’s turn to gasp and squeak, and I realized his eyes had been shut during the whole unbelievable interlude! It was the only way his reaction could be explained, but I could only guess, because with my arms bound, and in the position I was in, I couldn’t turn to see his face. “Ohhh—oh crap!” he squealed, out of breath from his fiery climax, guiltily slipping himself out of me. “Paula—was that the door? Who was it?” When he withdrew from me, I collapsed back onto the bed, my skin flushed not with desire but with embarrassment. “Did you see who?” I too had to catch my breath, and with the gag still in my mouth I couldn’t answer! “Was it”—and I managed to squeak out an answer which sounded like “Twmmshmm.” Only then, I think, did Richie remember that I was bound and gagged beneath him! “S**t!” he gasped, scrambling to lift me back upright on my knees and untie my gag, “Paula, tell me it wasn’t”—

“It was Tricia!” I gasped, still trying to gather my breath after the most intense intercourse I’d ever had, ended in such an embarrassing way. “She saw us!”

“Uhhh—yeah!” we heard her voice bluster from behind the closed door, and we both jumped again. “Don’t mind me—I’m just out here trying to put my eyes out!” Then we heard giggles! Not from Tricia, though—it came from other voices! I couldn’t make them out distinctly, but knowing they were there left me so mortified I wanted to cry! How could I ever face any of them ever again?

For long minutes Richie and I could hardly even look at each other, much less say anything. We were both still catching our breath, our lungs heaving for air after our exertion. “Paula…” he whimpered, “I’m sorry.”

“It was my fault,” I finally said. “I…I shouldn’t have started this! I…I guess I should go apologize to your sister,” I said, dreading actually doing that. Richie mewled agreement and gently untied me. He held me a moment to calm me down, and after a long moment I gathered myself to get a quick shower before going down to apologize to Tricia. As I wrapped myself in my bathrobe and hurried to the shower—first making sure no one was in the hallway when I emerged—I was sure Tricia would be outraged. I feared she was going to throw me out of our room—I even feared she would insist I move out of the house after that! How could she even look at me when she had caught me in the middle of what I was doing with her younger brother? By the time I had hurriedly scrubbed myself and wrapped myself back up in my robe, I’d decided I myself would offer to move out. I dreaded having to explain to my parents exactly why I would have to move back home, but I could not imagine any other options for me after that awful disaster! I peeked out the bathroom door—still no one—and started down the hall for the downstairs Still slowing red with humiliation, I hurried downstairs while Richie edged over to the bathroom to steal himself his own shower.

When I reached the downstairs hallway, I saw the kitchen light was on and followed it, and I wasn’t surprised to see Tricia there staring into a dish of what smelled like Spaghettios. “Tricia, I’m sorry!” I pleaded, still hoping to avoid being thrown out of the house. “I…it was all my fault! I…I wanted to be alone with Richie, and…and…”

“Now I know I’m cursed,” Trish smirked. “I thought it before, but now I know it! It could only happen to me!” I tried to apologize again, but she stopped me. “I’m cursed to walk in on every one of my siblings! This makes three—I only have, what, six more to go if I live long enough to catch Mikey and Mia?” I hoped she was being facetious about that last remark, because Mikey and Mia, her twin siblings, were only five years old! “I seriously need brain bleach—especially after you and Richie! I mean, seriously…”

“It was all my fault, Tricia! Don’t blame Richie! I—I seduced him, and”—

“Yeah, I’d say you did!” Tricia replied, with something almost like a smile on her face. She pushed the dish of Spaghettios toward my side of the table and glanced toward the chair as if inviting me. “Here, after that kind of exercise you need this more than I do!” I must have looked oddly at her. “Just sit down and eat, Paula! You have to keep up your strength after…” And then, she laughed! She really laughed, and giggled for long seconds until she subsided with a wry smile on her face. “Look, it’s probably my fault, Paula. I heard you out in the hallway, but I”—

“You heard me?” How loud had I been?

“Yeah, but…well, we’ve been broken into before, and when I heard you through that gag, I…well, I was afraid someone had broken in and was hurting you. So I bust in and…well…” I was surprised and actually amused! She was worried about me! “At least you weren’t being hurt!” she snickered again. “And at least I didn’t see Richie’s butt pumping up and down like the time I…well…let’s not talk about that one, okay?”

“You mean…Tyler? Tyler and Krysten?”

“In Imax 3-D,” Trish giggled. “Krysten’s legs wrapped around his back, and his butt pumping up and down like crazy! At least I didn’t have to see that again!”

“No, only me all t—well, you know…”

“Bondage doggy-style!” she burst out laughing, a laugh which seemed to say that not only was I forgiven, but invited to see the humor of things. Not at all what I expected when I went down into the kitchen, Sally! “If you ever do that again, you need a do-not-disturb sign and a better gag!”

“Gag?” someone asked from the doorway, and I gasped when I saw Ginger standing there with an enormous grin on her face! “You mean she was actually gagged? As loud as you were, Paula, I wasn’t sure about that!” She gave me a searching smile. “You might be the most interesting girl in this house yet! I haven’t had anyone’s wild monkey sex keep me awake in ages!” I must have looked at her oddly again, and her eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall It was after three in the morning, Sally! We’d been up there for hours! “At least we know you’re physically fit! And you too, Richie,” she said, prodding Richie (dressed again, of course) into the kitchen with his face red. “You guys kept it up almost as long as I have! You’ll have to tell me your secret, guys!” Poor Richie was stammering as much as I was! “But,” she said, suddenly taking a sleeve of my short robe and lifting it up, “if you guys are going to get into serious bondage, you might want to learn a few little tricks. You wouldn’t want to hurt Paula, would you, Richie?”

At that point, with Richie and I both blushing insanely, Trish sneaked up out of her seat and sighed her way to the door. “God, Ginge, you don’t have to corrupt them so soon, do you?”

“It’s not corruption!” Ginger protested. “Just passing on a little of my expertise! Come on, guys,” she smiled, “now that you have your second wind, let me show you a couple pointers.” We were both filled with trepidation as we followed Ginger up the stairs, but also intrigued. Our tie-up sex must have been as delightful to Richie as it had been to me! “You tied her elbows, right Richie?” He nodded out an uh-huh, still horribly embarrassed as we climbed the stairs to the bedroom hallway. “Well, you can see where you tied them. You just wrapped the rope around her elbows and pulled it tight, right?”

“How did you know that?” Richie asked, if anything even more embarrassed!

“The rope burn on Paula’s elbows! You get that by tying her elbows the way I just told you. The rope drags around her skin when you cinch it that way. I can teach you something better.” We must have both stared at her—“Look, guys, if you’re going to get into serious bondage,” she said as we stopped at her door, “you need to do it right. You can get hurt if you don’t. Look at that rope burn, Richie! You don’t want to do that to her again, do you?” she asked as she started opening her door.

“No,” Richie admitted.

“Well then, you just let me show you. Come on in!” We stepped inside—and my heavens, Sally! You should have seen it! I’d never seen anything like it! Among other things, there was literally a whip looped on a hook on one wall beside something that looked like a ping-pong paddle with holes cut in it, and manacles and fuzzy handcuffs on a rack on yet another wall. I don’t know how I didn’t pass out! “How’s this for a playground, kids?” she giggled at our reaction, for Richie was as shocked as I was! “And that’s not all, I promise you that! Now,” she said, turning oddly businesslike as she started rooting through a dresser drawer, “about teaching you how to—oh, here’s something you could have used! I forgot all about it!” She reached in with a smile, and came out with a small rubber ball attached to a long elastic strip. “Now this would have kept you really quiet, Paula! You ought to try it!”

“What is it?”

She snorted out a giggle. “You do wild bondage sex and you’ve never seen a ballgag? You really are innocents! Want to try it?” I was shocked, horrified in a small way, embarrassed, but all the same, the strange thing was sensually intriguing! What would it feel like? Would it hurt, or would I feel something else? “It’ll keep you quieter the next time you two decide to play homemaker-and-rapist!” I stammered—“It won’t hurt, Paula, I promise! You might even like it! This is just a little ballgag, not one of my big ones! In fact, this was my very first ballgag! A Sweet Sixteen gift from—well, let’s just say a friend,” she suddenly blushed.

“You were wearing a ballgag at sixteen?” I asked, horrified yet fascinated.

“I didn’t say I was wearing it!” Ginger winked, and after a quick glance at Richie, he gulped—as did I! “But like I said, Paula, it won’t hurt. Give it a shot?”

“What do I do?” I asked with a shaky sigh, and Ginger smiled. And so did Richie!

“First,” Ginger said, “we put the little loop around your neck, just like you would to start a headband,” she said, doing as she had just said, flicking my short back hair over the loop and leaving the ball hanging at the base of my throat rather like a strange rubber pendant. “The loop keeps you from spitting it out.” My heart was beginning to race!

“And what now, Ginger?” I asked, trying to control my rising excitement.

“Just open wide,” Ginger instructed with a broad smile on her face. “I’ll do it this time, Richie, and if you guys decide to borrow it, you’ll know what to do. Now open wide, Paula!” I did as I was told, opening my mouth wide open. “You don’t just jam the thing in, Richie,” Ginger explained as she raised the little rubber ball toward my open lips. “Make sure it isn’t too big. Paula’s got a little mouth, but this one will fit pretty easily. Maybe she’ll like something bigger later on, but for now let’s just stick with this small one.” It sure didn’t look small with it right at my lips! “Now, like I said, Richie, don’t just jam it in; you could hurt her teeth or jaw that way. What I do is…like this,” she said, matching her actions to her words, “put it right on top of her lower teeth, just like this. Does it hurt, Paula?” I mewled out a mm-mm. “Good. Now…you press down gently, just a little, Richie,” she said as she did it, “to help her lower her jaw. She hasn’t done a ballgag before, after all. Okay…looks like it’ll fit, so what I do is…like this…just roll it into her mouth, not too far—we don’t want to choke her!” Now the little ball was fully in my mouth. There was little taste to it, just a faint taste of rubber but nothing unpleasant. “Good girl, Paula!” she said as she noted how I had lowered and pulled back my tongue deep into my lower palate in the path of the ball. “That way your tongue doesn’t get all balled up and uncomfortable. Just relax it…yeah, just like that. Keep your jaw as relaxed as you can, don’t tighten it up. Still doesn’t hurt?” I gave her another mm-mm as I explored the feeling of the little ball filling up my mouth. I was shy about making any sound, but I wanted to further explore how my voice would feel resonating against this new gag. My first quiet little tests answering Ginger’s questions were so titillating! “Now, try to spit it out.” I couldn’t! “See, that’s because it sits just behind her teeth. She has to push the ball against them, but it won’t come out until you help her lower her jaw again.” She gave me another of her searching smiles. “So, how do you like being ballgagged, Paula? You enjoying it?”

I sighed against the gag, and the firmness of the ball seemed to magnify the vibration of my voice through my whole body! It was so exciting, Sally! “Mmm-hmmm,” I purred through the gag, and again it resonated my voice through my whole body until I felt my moisture begin to start gathering again! I really liked it!

But Ginger wasn’t done! “Now, about those elbows…” She rooted again in her dresser drawer, and she produced a long silky red cord, about an inch-and-a-half wide, like a bathrobe belt or thin sash. “Rope can chafe unless you’re careful, Richie,” she explained. “I use things like bathrobe belts on elbows and wrists if I can.” Now a sly glint shone in her black Asian eyes. “But her sleeves are in the way,” she grinned. “We’ll have to lose the robe.” I gasped and squeaked—I had nothing on under my robe! Did Ginger know that? “Paula,” she smiled as if reading my mind, “you really shouldn’t be so modest! We’ll all see each other naked from time to time! Just get over it! Besides,” she said, winking at Richie, “I’ll bet you don’t mind seeing Paula naked again, do you, Richie?”

“Nuh-uh!” he giggled himself, his eyes afire. I was flushed not just by embarrassment, but by excitement! I was again at bay, and the fact that Ginger was there and in charge was less important than that Richie was himself excited! He reached for the knot in my bathrobe belt—

I shook my head. I was the subject of this lesson, and I decided I would exercise the little control I had myself. They hesitated, and with shaky hands I undid the belt myself, handing it to Richie when I was done and the robe hung open over my shoulders. I was humiliated to be on the verge of complete nakedness in front of Ginger, but my excitement overrode that—and kept my gaze fixed into Richie’s eyes as I slipped the robe from my shoulders and let it pool at my feet on the floor!

“You have good taste in women, Richie!” Ginger giggled, and my gaze broke with a gasp. Only then did it really strike me that I was naked in Ginger’s bedroom, under Ginger’s gaze! And I was about to be tied up again! “Anyhow,” Ginger said, taking my elbow and turning me with my back to Richie, “here’s what you do. Start with one elbow, just like this,” she said, taking my left elbow in my hand behind me. “Wrap a loop or two around it lightly, just like this.” And my breath caught as the silken belt softly gripped my arm just above my elbow—“Tie a little slipknot like this to keep this part from slipping, like this. “Now, you can pull her arm without any rope burn on her elbow. Pull it toward the middle of her back...like this…” and my body responded just as it had earlier when Richie tied me! What must he have thought about me getting so obviously aroused by being bound by Ginger? “Now, I’ll tie another loop around her other elbow,” she said, and did again as she said. “Now, when I want to pull her arms close, I can loop the cord over these loops on her arms, and they take the friction…just like this,” and my heart shook as my elbows were pulled so close the loops around my arms literally touched! It stretched my chest so much, but she had done it so deftly and expertly that it didn’t hurt! My shoulders were pulled taut, but Ginger had bound me so well that there was no pain! And as she knotted off the cord, I again glanced down at myself and saw my naked breasts stretched wide and high, even more than before! My body’s instinct took over, and I felt my womanhood gushing in arousal! “Try to get loose, Paula,” Ginger instructed; I knew instantly there was no escape for my bound arms! I mewled that I couldn’t escape, but the gag muffled my voice and radiated it across my naked, helpless form! Oh, how painfully hard my nipples had gotten in just that moment, Sally! My face glowed with embarrassment at being so aroused in front of Ginger, but my body couldn’t help it!

With a humid titter, she took my arm and gently turned me facing Richie. “I think she likes it! Uh-huh, nice and aroused! Am I right, Paula? Are you enjoying being all tied up again?”

Mm-hmm! Even humiliated in front of Ginger—or was it because I was in front of her?—my body was radiant with desire! “And look, Richie,” she said, indicating my body as if I was an exhibit, “the best part is, you don’t even have to bother tying her wrists if you don’t want to. She can’t resist you with her elbows tied like this anyway, it doesn’t hurt her, and it makes her titties stand out even more! Like it, Paula?” Mm-hmm! “Like it, Richie?” I already knew his answer—his manhood was practically bursting out of his jeans at the sight of me! “Oh, how cute,” she snickered, standing back and surveying us swimming in our re-fired lust! “Tell you what,” she grinned. “This is enough bondage lesson for one night. I think Trish went to bed, so if you two want to borrow mine…well, I have sheets in my bottom drawer if you guys would change them when you’re done. I’ll go crash downstairs!” We practically ran for her bed! “Don’t mind the surveillance camera!”

I certainly hope she was teasing, Sally, because if she wasn’t, we entertained her enormously! And now I need another shower just thinking about it!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Part 5/6

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Thu Jul 18, 2013 5:34 am

I hope you're enjoying Paula's diary, everyone. Feedback would be nice so I know whether you really are enjoying it...
**********************************

Dear Sally,

Life had settled into a routine of sorts. Work during the day, and sometimes the evening, is pleasant. You know how much I enjoy quietude, dear Sally, and the library is very quiet most days. In the evenings, I’ve come to enjoy the company of my new roommates. Maggie likes to reminisce about Darius Allen with me, Hannah likes to talk about books (she’s very literary, Sally, almost as much as I am!). Krysten is more distant; she remembers, no doubt, the foolish crush I had on Tyler in those days and the foolish way I expressed it (I still cannot read Elizabeth Barrett Browning without blushing for my foolishness!). But she is still friendly, if a little reserved. Tricia, you know, has been perfectly wonderful to me, even after that embarrassing incident with Richie in our room. Whenever she’s not trying to talk me into joining her sorority this fall or talking about her work in the forensics lab (she’s drafted me as her study partner on DNA sequences and positions on chromosomes—she’s given me a cheat sheet and asked me to pop-quiz her at odd times on them), she talks about her family. But not in terms of her family, Sally—she always speaks of them as our family! She could have been very upset at the incident, but she’s not only been forgiving, but inclusive, as if I was already her sister-in-law! I can’t say how much I love that!

Then there’s Ginger! She is also busy, not only in the forensics lab, but also working her wait job at the Cook Pot, where she’s very popular. She never looks at me without an expression of intense but amused interest, as if trying to solve some sort of mystery I represent. She frequently asks after Richie and me, even going so far as to inquire how often we’ve used her lesson that night, and to wonder why I haven’t yet asked to borrow the ballgag she lent us that night. I always get extremely embarrassed, as you know, but that doesn’t seem to faze her; that expression of interest only seems to deepen. I knew it would come to a head someday, and, well, it finally happened! Now, let’s see if I can tell you about it without dying of embarrassment!

You know how impatient I’ve been this week with Richie off on his cross-country trip with his stepfather Dr. Miyazaki. Dr. Miyazaki often lately has joked about himself as “The Nipponese Picker,” and when he bought a rare Ford hot rod from someone on the West Coast, Richie was more than willing to accompany him on the trip to retrieve it. I do my best to not feel annoyed by his absence, especially since it will let him keep in touch with family and bond with Dr. Miyazaki. And of course he loves all sorts of cars and trucks! They both invited me along, but with work I had to stay here, so I’ve had to be content with texting and calling him. In fact, that was just what I was doing this evening in the living room after my evening at the library, while Ginger lounged with pizza she’d picked up from Big Mama’s (I went halves with her, so we were sharing) and watched another of her endless Criminal Minds marathons on our big living-room TV (another of Richie’s restoration projects, which let us get a 50-inch TV for almost nothing) as she does whenever she’s alone in the house, as she was except for me being there as well. Like I said, Sally, I was feeling impatient and querulous, so I did something I rarely do—criticize Ginger’s viewing habits. “I don’t get why you watch that show,” I said. “I mean, if you’re studying to be a profiler, why would you watch something like this? It’s…sort of like someone in med school watching Grey’s Anatomy! I would think that all the fictional parts would turn you off!” I didn’t really realize I’d said all that until I actually said it! I expected Ginger to be sharp in her reply, thus started to apologize. But she stopped me with that amused little smile she has so often on her face, like she was ready to have a long discussion showing off her expertise.

“Well…” she grinned, “it’s eye candy for one thing. All sorts of deliciousness for a sick mind like mine!”

“Well,” I admitted, “Thomas Gibson is good-looking, and Matthew Gray Gubler is cute in a way. And Shemar Moore…”

“And you’re texting that to your hubby?” Ginger snickered. I shook my head. “Well anyway, yeah, the guys have some definite hotness to them.” Her black eyes suddenly radiated a mischievous glimmer. “But there’s nothing like imagining all the ways I could corrupt A. J. Cook! Mmm-mm-good!” I knew she was playing me for a reaction, and I must have given her one! “Surely you don’t think I limit myself to just one gender, do you?” And all unbidden, my mind reeled back to the night in her room she introduced me to her ballgag! “You know what a pansexual is?” I shook my head, but my knowledge of prefixes was whispering unsettling suggestions to me! “Besides me, that is. Well, let’s just say we see the hotness in everyone!”

“Including me?” I managed to peep out without fainting! I remember imagining that she had been looking strangely at me that night, and what she had just said seemed to confirm it!

“Oh, don’t act so naïve, Paula!” Ginger scoffed. “Do you really think we’re that different?” I was astounded! Not that different? How could she even say that? But even before I could form words, she started again! “By which I mean that you’re a pretty willing little experimenter when it comes to sex! You swallowed that ballgag like it was a lollipop!” I tried to stammer out some kind of response—“Oh, and that overactive delicacy of yours? Yeah, I got that—I was just like that myself—oh, say, until I hit sixteen and stopped pretending about myself.”

“Well, then,” I said, recovering a little spirit, “tell me what you think I am. Profile me, profiler!” I was even a little angry!

“You are Anne of Green Gables as imagined by Tim Burton,” Ginger grinned. “Eager to spread your wings, expand your horizons, seek your kindred spirit, Jack Skellington and all! But you can’t let go of your delicate little provincial background, so you go to your BDSM playground with a great big blush on your face at your own boldness. Jack Skellington on the outside, little pink misses’ panties beneath, complete with a bow on the waistband!” How could she know that? “I saw your laundry, Anne Shirley!” she chuckled just as if she had heard me ask that question! “You have the wildest monkey sex in this house, and you can’t say the word f*** without dying of embarrassment!” Now I was horrified, because everything Ginger was saying had the ring of truth! “You want to be a bad little girl, but your provincial little conscience won’t let you do that without blushing because you’re being unladylike!” she snickered to herself as she typed a text into her own phone, then turned to me an expression which seemed almost sympathetic. “I was just like you, only a little younger. You have passions that drive you wild, but you’re too well-brought-up to not be ashamed of them. I guess that’s the difference between being a city girl and a country girl.” She smiled at a return text on her phone, then back up at me. “That’s what I meant when I said you were the most interesting girl who’s ever been here. Watching you is like watching me!”

“I…I can’t really be that…that…”

“Depraved?” Ginger giggled. “That’s the good little Wiltontown girl talking. I’d say imaginative instead. Adventurous. Willing.” And I found myself nodding, Sally! “And part of you is so undersexed with your hubby on the wrong coast that you’re half hoping I’ll drag you up to my room again and ravage you just like I could do to A. J. Cook!”

“No I’m not!” I protested. “I—I’m engaged, Ginger! I wouldn’t do anything disloyal to Richie, you know that! You know how much I love him! I’d never even think about it! I mean, even if it wasn’t cheating on Richie, I could never—never”—

“Shakespeare really got you right!” Ginger grinned naughtily. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much! I’d bet money you’ve wondered what it would be like if I grabbed you and tied you up nice and tight like the other night!” My heart nearly stopped, Sally, because she was right—I had daydreamt that at odd times over the past couple days, imagining what Ginger might do to me! But always my fidelity to Richie stopped me—I could never betray him! But again, I must have been transparent to Ginger, because she smiled widely and showed me her phone screen. “And I asked Richie if you could have a little playmate for tonight to tide you over until he got back. Check out what he sent me!” I looked, and it was really Richie! “do u wanna teach her nu tricks? cool if she wants 2!” I could hardly believe it! She’d actually asked him that? “Check in with hubby, Paula—he really told me that!” With shaking fingers, I typed my text to him—“really?” In seconds, my phone rang instead of texted—it was Richie!

“Wish I could be there, honey babe,” his deep rich lovely voice, quiet and confidential, said almost before I could answer the phone! “All that stuff Ginger taught us that night really got you going, you know! And Ginger says you’re feeling a little lonely. So if you want to, and you promise to show me what she teaches you, you can go play with her a little tonight! Just don’t forget me, okay honey babe?”

“Never, Richie!” I murmured into the phone, my emotions and desires all jumbled together. “I…”

“Oh, go ahead and tell him you love him, Anne Shirley! It won’t embarrass me, you know!”

“Anne Shirley?” he asked blankly.

“I’ll explain when you’re home, Richie,” I said, and under Ginger’s evil grin I managed to tell him I loved him, and his “Love you too, honey babe,” warmed and calmed me. Well, to be exact it calmed my conscience, because my body was still in the throes of such terribly conflicting feelings that my hands were shaking as I closed out my call!

“So give your conscience a little vacation, Anne Shirley!” Ginger snickered as she rose to her feet and turned toward the hallway. “I already promised him I wouldn’t go too far on you, just…well,” she winked, “if you want to find out what ‘not too far’ playing with me is, you’ll just have to come on upstairs!” And in a moment, she had fairly skipped out of the room and up the stairs to her room. She left me stewing in a sea of conflicting emotions, and I felt as naked as I’d been that night in her room with her and Richie! How could she have seen through me that easily? Was I really as depraved as she had suggested? Could I allow her to “play” with me, even with Richie’s permission? How would I feel if I allowed myself to do that? And what did she have planned for me up there? I had no answers to any of those questions, Sally—which is why I went up the stairs to my room!

I’ll resume this entry shortly, dear Sally. Tricia just called to let me know she will be spending the night at her home on Passmore Street tonight (all of us girls here at Chateau Snoop are very punctilious about letting someone here know where we are, something they learned from bitter experience), Krysten has already let us know she will be home with her mother and her sisters Chelsea and Ginny, and Hannah and Maggie just now pulled up in front of the house. I’m hoping that this night isn’t written on my face for them to see!

Dear Sally,

Fortunately for me, Hannah and Maggie were both so exhausted from their evening that they really paid me no attention when they came in a few minutes ago. They noticed me sitting here writing in the living room, but said nothing more that a “hi—good night” greeting on their way up the stairs. Fortunately, because if tonight wasn’t written on my face, it is clearly written on my wrists and ankles! Which is where I left off, dear Sally. The point where I had nerved myself, almost against my will—or at least part of it—to go up the stairs to Ginger’s room.

I was nervous, timid, even frightened on my way up the stairs and down the upstairs hallway. My mind was awash in lurid imaginings of vague tortures at Ginger’s hands—but still I could not resist the gravity of her invitation, which drew me inevitably up the stairs. A long moment standing at her closed door, and finally I knocked timidly. “Ye-es, who is it?” she called mockingly, since she knew I was the only one in the house. I managed to squeak out my name, so mixed-up I felt at that moment. “Who? Paula who?” I felt ridiculous answering with my full name; she was toying with me! But I managed to choke out her answer. A long moment, and then she called out, “Come on in—the door’s unlocked!” With a clammy, trembling hand, I opened the door and stepped inside.

What I saw inside the room was both startling and intriguing, Sally! I knew to expect the coils of rope and robe belts neatly arranged on her dresser top, but even though I also expected to see the ballgag she had used on me before sitting beside them, the actual sight of it set off a strange quiver over my flesh, as if seeing it made this “play session” real. The whip still hung on its place on the wall, the holed paddle beside it like before. But there were other items as well; pairs of what looked like fuzzy manacles or handcuffs, wide, folded-over black velvet cloths, long white feathers, and various other things I didn’t immediately recognize.

Then I saw Ginger. She stood before me in nothing but a bathrobe, with a naughty smile on her face. “Hello there, playmate!” she greeted me as I hesitated inside the door. “See all the toys I have here? There are more where these came from! Tell you what—have a nice relaxing little shower while I finish tidying up! You’ll be all nice and clean and relaxed for our play date!” I nodded and scurried off to my room for my shower things, and plunged quickly into a quick warm shower. Still stewing with mixed emotions, I hurried through, but hesitated when I finished. What should I wear? I wasn’t sure how I should be dressed for this strange “play date,” and in the midst of my confusion I merely slipped into my bathrobe! In any case, I rationalized that the night was very warm (which it was), which allowed me to nerve myself to go back to Ginger’s room dressed as skimpily as I was. But even at that moment I knew it was mere rationalization, Sally!

We went through the same routine at her door as we did before, and in moments I was back in the room, in which a few more items had been placed about, and Ginger stood in her own bathrobe with her own shower stuff. “My turn,” she said. “I imagine you’ll want to get a little comfortable while you wait for me,” she winked, and she gestured to the side of her bed. “You can just sit here,” she invited, and I sat down at the corner of the mattress. She gazed with a teasing smile at me as I sat, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Of course, “ she added, “it might be a good idea to make sure you can’t run away on me now that you’re here!”

“What are you going to do?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

“You just relax, Paula,” she smiled, not teasing but warm. “Nothing tonight is going to hurt you. I promised Richie that. But if you’re going to play, you have to let yourself really play. And for now, I’m making sure you can’t run.” And she came around to my seat—with a pair of the fuzzy manacles in her hand! “We’re starting slow, Paula,” she said, kneeling at my slippered feet. “Just like I said, I’m making sure you can’t run away while I shower.” My breath caught as she took my left ankle and closed one of the manacles—I guess the proper term is fetters—around it with the click of a lock. The grip was soft yet firm, and I instantly felt the familiar electric tingle begin to percolate all over my body! The other fetter was joined to the first one by only a couple links of chain, no more than three inches apart at most, and with a soft titter Ginger took my right ankle and locked the other fetter onto it. Instinctively I tried my newly-fastened fetters, and the retraining grip and the soft jangle of the chain links stoked a blush to my face which began to radiate all over me! “I think this will keep you here,” she remarked with a smile as she slipped my slippers off my feet, leaving me sitting fettered on the corner of her bed. “Just imagine, Paula,” she intimated as she rose and gathered her shower materials, “Two little cuffs, a couple inches’ worth of chain, and already it’s almost impossible for you to escape me! If you were to try to run away, you could barely even make it to the stairs with your feet chained like that! And you know that if you tried, I’d catch you immediately. One little pair of cuffs, and you’re my prisoner! Imagine that!” she giggled, closing the door behind her as she went for her shower.

“Imagine that!” she had said, and oh, Sally how I did imagine! She had used that very word in our conversation—imaginative—and now it began to carry me away. The grip around my ankles was soft, almost undetectable with my feet still, only the cloying warmth of the fuzzy lining reminding me that they were even locked onto me. But I could not resist movement, and with each small movement, the jangle and pull of the chain held my feet securely. And each catch of the chain reminded me that I was indeed restrained, my legs bound! Bound! Gingerly I stood on my fettered feet, testing the chains which bound my legs, and each shuffling step stopped by the chain reinforced my state upon my imagination! Bound! I was a bound prisoner! And the word and the insistent grip of the chain stoked the electric pulse crackling over my flesh, and it began to concentrate in those familiar places. With nothing more than a small pair of fetters, I was Ginger’s bound prisoner! I tried to cool my imagination—was I this easily aroused?—but the grip of my fetters would not allow me to restrain my imagination or my bursting arousal!

I don’t know how long I was left alone to contemplate my captivity, to luxuriate (yes, that’s the right word, Sally!) in my fetters, but it felt like only scant moments before the door opened to reveal Ginger. She had scrubbed herself scrupulously clean, the breezy scent of her body wash drifting to me. She wore a black sports bra and a silken pair of briefs which clung tautly to her lithe frame—“It’s going to stay warm tonight,” she explained with a teasing smile, “and that’s even without us playing! I hope you dressed cool under that robe, playmate!”

A feeling of recklessness overtook me, my arousal speaking for me—“I dressed as coolly as you can get!” I heard myself giggle, again testing my fetters and letting them squeeze even more arousal across my flesh. Already my self-control was slipping on my arousal!

“Well, aren’t you a bad little girl!” Ginger teased, striding over to the materials arranged on her dresser. “Blushing like a good little girl, though,” she noted with a twinkle as she picked over her supplies, and my heart skipped as I wondered which of those things she intended to use on me! “Funny thing about imagination,” she philosophized lightly as she mused over the items, “the less input it gets, the more it runs away with you. They’ve done experiments about that, you know,” she said, picking up the long, wide black satin cloth. “Deprived test subjects of all their senses. Hearing, sight, touch, taste, even smell. The more isolated the subject got, the more out of control their imagination got. Imagination fills in what the senses can’t provide.” And I knew what she intended first!

“You’re going to blindfold me,” I murmured, my face turning scarlet.

“Sight is our most-used sense,” Ginger said. “When it’s taken away, you can picture yourself anywhere. And being deprived of your sight leaves you remarkably dependent. Almost helpless, if you think about it.” While she spoke, she had climbed up on the bed and knelt herself behind me, my blindfold at the ready. “If you try to take it off, I’m going to punish you!” she teased as she reached around me to place the blindfold over my eyes. “Glasses off!” I promptly complied, slipping my glasses off my nose and folding them in my lap. As soon as I had done so, Ginger lifted the cloth and secured it over my eyes, leaving me in deep blackness. My heart surged again as she tied off the knot and she scurried away off the bed; I was plunged into darkness, alone yet not alone, imprisoned in the darkness yet knowing with a flush of arousal that Ginger was there, ever so close but still so far! I heard her bare feet pad softly on the floor, then I gasped as she lifted my glasses from my hands and spirited them away. “You can’t run, and you can’t see,” she said, adjusting my blindfold to cut off even the least ray of light around its edges. “A little bit of metal, and a little bit of cloth, and you’re all but helpless against me. Can you feel your helplessness, Paula?” she intimated. “How powerless you are in my hands?” Oh, but I did, Sally! How powerless I felt—and how aroused!

‘Yes,” I murmured with a humid sigh. “Like…like…”

“Like you’re in two worlds at once, right?” she asked, and I could sense her moving around me. Already I was beginning to be able to guess where she was by the scent of her body wash, but my imagination was left to fill in every other detail—what exactly she was doing, the expression on her face—just as she had said, as if I was in two worlds at once! One was inside my darkened world, trapped inside the black velvet with my tingling lust; the other, invisible beyond the cloth, where Ginger could see and watch me. I sighed another agreement—“Push it some more,” she instructed. “Take off your robe.”

“I’ll be naked,” I squeaked. Nude! Naked in the face of my captor Ginger! The thought mortified me—yet also aroused me even more! My nudity would be in Ginger’s world beyond my darkness—but how would it feel in my world, trapped inside my blindfold?

“Another form of powerlessness,” Ginger replied. “In every culture in history, rank has been shown with clothing. The Romans allowed patricians to wear blue and purple stripes on their togas. Even now, expensive suits are a mark of prestige. Nakedness is the ultimate in powerlessness—that’s why new-captured slaves were paraded around naked, to remind them that they had no power.” I hesitated—“It’s your choice, Paula,” she reminded me softly. “You can explore your powerlessness, or not.” I know I should have thought about it more, but my imagination was in command—and I loosened my robe and let it fall to the floor! I was naked!

“And now, your last little bits of control,” Ginger said, and I began to sense a warmth, a humidity in her voice. “You’re still able to cover yourself up. And you still have your voice.” And it struck me, Sally, that the two things that usually are first when being tied up had been left for last! First bind the hands, then the gag, then the blindfold, seemed to be the normal, natural way to do this—but Ginger had been very different! She had started with fettering my feet, then blindfolded me. Only now was she taking away what is usually taken first! It felt suddenly odd, and oddly erotic! “And you’re thinking about how sexy it is, right Anne Shirley?” she teased. I nodded, not wanting words to spoil the feelings which were overtaking me. “Here, hold out your hand.” It wasn’t so much a command as an invitation, so I complied. To an accompaniment of her naturally naughty giggle, I felt a rubber ball placed in my hand, with what felt like an elastic band attached—and I knew what she had given me! The ballgag! “Your choice again, Paula,” she murmured. “You can take away your own voice. Your choice.” I pondered that a moment. I was binding myself! I was taking away my freedom, my power even over myself! With each step, I made myself more and more helpless, and with each step my body responded with more and more arousal! My thoughts were short and decisive, and in only moments I had the ballgag looped around my neck as Ginger had done so recently. Remembering her instructions that night, I opened my mouth and gently rolled the ball behind my teeth, settling it inextricably in place. I sighed—as before, the gag reverberated my voice electrically back over my flesh!

“Yes,” Ginger mewled as I set my own gag in my own mouth, and her humid tone made clear to me that she herself was being aroused by my bit-by-bit binding. “You can’t speak now. Your power over words has been taken.” I mewled assent through my gag, and the reverberation stoked me to a welling of moisture! “You’ve lost the power to run. The power to see. The power to speak. And you surrendered them with your own will. You could have removed your blindfold when you gagged yourself, but you didn’t. You could have refused to gag yourself, but you did. Now, there’s one last power left you, Paula. The one power that can give you back all the others Will you keep it or surrender it?” It took me a moment to understand what she meant, but only a moment. My hands! Odd that the what is usually the first thing tied, bound, taken away, was tonight the last thing left me! Now, Ginger took my hand, squeezed it, and in a silent moment she placed something in my grip. My fingers explored it within my darkness and silence, and after long moments I recognized it as a handcuff, one of the pairs I had seen arranged in her room! Now I understood fully! “The last power you have left to surrender, Paula,” she intimated. “When you surrender it, you surrender yourself completely. You will have no power at all, even over yourself. Completely powerless, completely helpless. Completely surrendered.” I considered my position; legs bound, eyes covered, mouth filled, completely naked. I had only my hands, and the means in them to take even that away from myself! And after that long moment taking stock of my situation, letting that thought scatter over my flesh electrically and tease even more moisture from my loins, I fastened a cuff on my left wrist. With a ragged breath which seemed to vibrate from my chest all the way to my center, I put my hands behind my back. My right hand found the open jaws of the manacle held in my left, and I settled my wrist inside them. My left hand took the loose jaw of the cuff—I hesitated for a moment, knowing that I was about to yield up the last of my power, that I was about to make myself completely helpless! And in the next heartbeat, I closed the manacle on my wrist—the latch clicked, not loud but definite and final. I was powerless—totally, utterly, profoundly helpless!

I heard Ginger breathe a ragged breath. My hearing, the only thing left me—not a power at all, merely means of understanding my complete powerlessness—had become oddly sensitive, and I fancied I could hear not just her breath, the shuffle of her feet on the floor, but the emotions which motivated them. And in Ginger’s breath I heard—felt—arousal, desire! I fancied even further that I could feel her gaze on me, almost as if it was a physical touch on my suddenly-perspiring skin! “So…you’re powerless now, Paula. Completely helpless. You control nothing, not even your own body. You can’t run. You can’t see. You can’t speak. You can’t resist. You can’t even cover yourself up.” Each humid word stoked my own arousal, squeezed more and more moisture all over me! “I can do anything to you I want, and you can do nothing to stop me. I even have your life in my hands!” It struck me that it was true—with my mouth filled with the ballgag, I could only breathe through my nose, and all she would have to do is pinch it shut to snuff out my life! Strangely, the thought didn’t frighten me; it only drowned me even deeper in my glowing arousal! “Can you imagine, Paula?” she taunted in a husky voice. “All the things I could do to you, and you have no power to stop any of it! Think back, Paula,” she intimated, whispered in my ear, and I could sense her heat! “All the things you saw in here. All my toys. I can use any of them on you I want, and you have already surrendered yourself to them! Imagine, Paula. Just imagine!” Oh, Sally, imagine indeed! My imagination was glowing with lurid suggestions of what was about to happen to me!

I must pause again, Sally. Just remembering those moments, my first moments of total, complete powerlessness, my total surrender to Ginger, wash me over with arousal, and I must pause. I’ll be back very soon to tell you more of the profound lesson Ginger taught me!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Mon Jul 22, 2013 11:37 pm

Wow, I would never have guessed that shy little Paula has within her the makings of another Ginger, but I guess she does indeed. I can't wait to see what Ginger has up her sleeve for the rest of this lesson. My only regret is seeing how this was part 5 of 6, that means that this tale is reaching its conclusion. I hope there are plans for more stories in this Dear Sally Diary series, because I can see quite a few possibilities. After all, if Trish persuades Paula to pledge GKE, there's certain to be some interesting stuff going on in her initiation (especially if Richie goes for DRK), and of course there's the Rite of Spring... :)

Part 8

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Tue Jul 30, 2013 8:06 am

Zaphod, thanks for the reply. The only reason I have for perhaps ending this tale prematurely is the lack of response (an old story for me, as you know); it's hard to keep going when there is literally only one person who is responding to the story! You're quite right about the possibilities in Paula's further Snowden State adventures, in ways you might not even guess--but it would be very nice if more people would let me know what they think about this tale...
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Dear Sally,
I actually had myself a little snack after (as I’m sure you’ve already guessed) my little cool shower. Tonight has left me with a very odd (for me) sweet tooth; lucky for me that someone had bought a box of Froot Loops cereal (a generic brand, but pretty much the same), and I’m just now finishing my bowl. By the way, Ginger herself came down a moment ago while I was eating and saw I was writing to you; I found myself covering it up, but she very decorously did not look at my pages, instead dipping into the refrigerator and taking out a bottle of water. She asked if I was all right, which I am of course, and also asked very sincerely if I enjoyed the night. You already know the answer I gave her, I’m quite sure! On her way out of the kitchen, she looked back over her shoulder at me and said, again quite sincerely, that if I needed to talk that she would be glad to listen to anything I might need to say. Ginger is odd that way; so sexually assertive, so ravenous in her way, but then kind and sympathetic in her typically wry way. She unnerves me very often, but I have to say that I do like her, and I’m quite happy to share a place with her (and the rest of us, of course!). She’s so very unexpected and surprising!

Which, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, Sally, she was surprising tonight, very much! There I was, as you remember, completely helpless, completely powerless—my wrists manacled behind my back done by my own hand, blindfolded, my ankles fettered, my mouth filled with Ginger’s ballgag, and completely naked of course! I could hear, even feel, Ginger stalking around me where I stood in utter darkness behind my blindfold, murmuring to me to imagine being at the mercy of all the things I’d seen in her room before she covered my eyes. And oh, Sally, how I did imagine! Already my mind had swung back to the whip I’d seen on her wall the first time I went into her room, and the paddle beside it. You know I’ve never experienced much physical pain in my life, and you especially know that I’ve never really ever been physically punished while I grew up. I’ve never been spanked or switched, much less whipped or paddled, and all my imagination could picture as Ginger stalked around my naked, bound self was Ginger using those things on me! I was so certain she was about to use the whip or the paddle on me that my bottom already seemed to sting with the pain! She was perfectly right when she said that I could not defend myself against anything she decided to do to me, and my fear that I was about to be whipped or paddled, rather to my shock and surprise, aroused me! “I see you are imagining!” she said with a wild giggle. I could not ask how she knew that, of course, but she answered my question as if she had actually heard it! “I can see how wet you are already!” Her words set my cheeks on fire with embarrassment, Sally! As you know, of course, I keep myself very trim, and there was little possible concealment for my reaction, but hearing her speak so overtly about my physical arousal was still something I wasn’t ready to hear! “I think you want to play, don’t you?” I heard myself mumble an mm-hmm through my gag!

Then I heard her stop just in front of me, and I could sense her dropping to her knees. I was terribly confused as to what she planned to do—several things popped into my mind, as you can imagine, I’m sure! But after only an instant, her intentions became clear when she freed first my right ankle, then my left, from the fetters she had put on my feet. “It’s not like you can run away, can you?” she asked as she rose to her feet again in front of me. “And this way, I can take you anywhere I want to take you!” That thought too teased at me; what if she took me downstairs into the living room? The basement? What about outside into our yard? Dave had out up a privacy fence around our small backyard against the chance that some of us might want to sunbathe on the sunny days, so the idea that Ginger might take me outside was very real, and very exciting in a frightening way! To be outside, in the middle of Snowden, completely naked? It was frightening, but arousing too! And even at that moment I began to wonder if somehow the two things—fear and arousal—are linked. I thought back to the very first time I ever tied myself up at home, how nervous I was that my parents would discover me, and I remembered how that had added to my arousal. Fear and arousal—such an interesting thing to consider!

But I hardly had time to think about it, for Ginger had taken me by the elbow and begun walking me. At first, I tried to picture in my mind where I was being taken, but Ginger seemed again to anticipate what I wished to do, because after only a couple steps, she spun me slowly around and around, enough that I didn’t even really know how many times I’d been completely turned. Only then did she again walk me slowly along, as if to disorient me, but she hadn’t considered my sense of touch and smell. I could still smell the subtle rose scent of the candles she kept in her room, and my bare feet could still discern the firm support of her carpet. I was still in Ginger’s room, but being walked slowly around the room. I knew this would soon stop, and only then would her “play” really begin! I mewled with anticipation at the thought of that, and again my imagination played a scene. I was being led blindly down a dark and threatening corridor to a torture chamber, dark but gleaming with the reflection of dim light on chrome torture devices. I trembled at the thought of metal and leather tearing into my defenseless flesh, ravaging my helpless body!

Then she stepped away, her scent fading a degree, and suddenly I pictured myself standing alone and vulnerable in the middle of a vast chamber, hungry eyes devouring my nude form before the mad scientist strapped me down to a vast, cold, hard slab for his depraved experiments! I mewled out Ginger’s name, a feeble cry muffled and radiated over my flesh by my ballgag. I heard nothing, not even Ginger’s breathing, and the scene in my mind changed. I was the sacrificial maiden, standing bound and abandoned at the edge of the monster’s hideous lair, awaiting the killing stroke of his fangs and claws—

Then my body was seized with a jolting electric tingle as a soft, ethereal, breath-light touch ran down my side! I convulsed with a squeal away from the teasing breath over my flesh, and in that moment the airy touch disappeared. What had it been? What had Ginger done to me? My imagination ran away again, to the mouth of a dank, dark cave, where I stood before the monstrous jaws of the dragon, its breath tickling my bare skin before I was to be devoured! I tugged at the manacles on my wrists, squealed through my gag, yet still I stood blind and vulnerable to the depredations being prepared beyond the veil of my blindfold! And even as preoccupied as I was with my lurid imaginings, my body responded with lust, my perspiration seeming to concentrate into hot moisture at my center! I felt myself desperately craving Ginger’s torments!

Again the breathy touch, now brushing over my naked breasts, and as I convulsed away, my nipples tightened in painful ecstasy! My hands clawed and writhed in their manacles, and my squeals became whimpers as it felt as if my whole body was drowning in my own moisture! My imagination desperately painted my Richie into the scene, his eyes roaming over my naked, bound form, about to seize me, lift me into our bed and claim me, but still I remained standing in the blind center of my darkened world, my body resonating with desire! Oh that he really was there to take me! And again the breath-light touch, now dancing teasingly over my defenseless nipples! My whimpers were now cries, my gag-muffled voice tormenting my body to an arousal almost physically painful as I writhed away from the ethereal tickling!

I was panting, my breath shortened as my frantic tugging against my bonds stoked my lust. And again the teasing, breath-like tickle! Now it breathed over my bottom, downward and then across my thigh toward my sex, and I wailed as my center gushed with desire! I was within a breath of a climax like I’d never felt before—

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” Ginger’s soft, teasing whisper in my ear startled me, pulled me sharply away from my fantasy captivity into my real captivity. My lust still pulsed through me with every breath and every heartbeat, but now I flushed crimson as I remembered that Ginger was witness to my raging, helpless, animal desire! “A pair of cuffs, a blindfold, a simple little ballgag, and this,” she said, uncurling the fingers of my right hands and placing something in it. My fingers quickly searched the object, almost weightless, as light as—well, Sally, as light as a feather! Literally light as a feather, because it took me only seconds to realize that what I held really was a feather, with long soft plumes which had undoubtedly been what had stoked me to such agonizing arousal. “It sure doesn’t take much to get you nice and wet, does it, Anne Shirley? So, do you want to keep playing?” I nodded frantically—I craved that last little tug on my lust which would give me the climax I was literally panting for! “You know,” she said more casually, the familiar mild tease in her voice, “I wonder what fantasies you were playing out that have you so hot! You were gushing wet even before I used that thing on you! Just standing there, you were whipping yourself up nice and creamy! I barely touched you, and you practically came!” She chuckled lightly, and I could sense her moving lightly around the room. “I wonder what other fantasies I can make you think of?” she tittered, and I heard a humid note of challenge in her voice. I heard drawers being opened and closed, the shuffle of her feet against the floor “Let’s see if I can’t make you imagination play out a few different fantasies, hmm?” Again, she took me by my elbow, but after only a couple steps backward, I felt myself backed against a soft obstruction which I identified a moment later as the bed. A quiet tug, and suddenly I was sitting down on its edge. The bed! Now my imagination went out of control again, picturing me stretched out on the bed, bound in heaven only knew what ways, left defenseless to any monstrous depredations Ginger’s own imagination could conjure. I pictured myself roused from a deep sleep by a monstrous invader, thrown into tight bonds, ravaged and despoiled by the masked intruder! My mind was feverish with the fear and arousal of a vulnerability more total than any yet!

Again, Sally, I shall return soon to tell you how my lesson at Ginger’s hands played out. Such a lesson!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

First Lesson Learned!

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Fri Aug 16, 2013 12:36 pm

This entry of Paula's diary concludes her little play-time lesson at the hands of her new roomie Ginger O'Day. She has plenty of other adventures in her new Snowden digs, but I need to know if you want to read about them. Please let me know--should Paula's adventures continue here?...
**********************************

Dear Sally,
Well now, I think I’ve calmed down enough to resume my entry. Actually, I did sit and talk with Ginger for a while, and she observed that Richie must be the luckiest guy in the world because I am so easy to arouse and please. I admit that I’m physically very sensitive, and I can see Ginger’s point about how easily I can become aroused. As you know, Sally, even writing these diary entries arouses me merely from the memory of what had passed!

And as I promised, I will finish the story of my night with Ginger. When I left you, I was sitting on the edge of Ginger’s bed, my hands manacled behind my back, my eyes covered with the blindfold, and my mouth filled with what I was already starting to think of as my ballgag. And yes, I was intrigued and aroused by Ginger’s challenge to make me think of different fantasies! But I hardly had time to think about what those fantasies could be when I felt Ginger sit on the bed beside me, and in a moment she was handling the manacles on my wrists. “You’ve been a good girl in my cuffs,” Ginger giggled, “so I think it’s time to reward you with rope. I know you like rope!” I answered mm-hmm and nodded, and immediately the manacles were released from my wrists. But as soon as my wrists had been freed, Ginger reached around me, seized both my wrists, and bounced up in front of me, pressing my wrists side-to-side in front of me. I squeaked a little as she began to tie my wrists in front of me, and for a moment I have to confess I was a little disappointed. I don’t really feel bound with my hands tied in front; I much prefer my hands to be tied behind my back, which leaves me so very vulnerable, unable to protect my front. “Be patient, little plaything!” Ginger teased, cinching a loop of rope between my wrists, leaving them comfortable yet securely tied. “Play time isn’t over yet!”

Now again I felt her hop up behind me, and from nowhere I felt her hands under my arms, lifting me and pulling me back onto her bed. In moments, I felt myself being laid back supine on the bed—another bounce, and suddenly Ginger knelt on my chest, straddling me just below my breasts, my tied hands in her grip. “And the other nice thing about rope,” she laughed as she pushed my tied hands above my head, “is that it doesn’t scratch up the headboard to my bed!” By now she was leaning over me, her legs straddling me, and her scent was vivid as I felt her working on my hands above me on the bed. I could picture the scene in my imagination, laying naked on my back, Ginger straddling and leaning over me, and from the absence of any sensation of fabric between us, I guessed vividly that Ginger too was naked. After a moment I understood that she was tying my bound hands to the headboard above me, and as she worked, I could feel her moisture starting to gather on my abdomen where she was sitting on me. So she was aroused too! I felt a sudden assertive movement of her hands above me, and I surmised that she had knotted off the cord tying my hands above me. Guessing that, I tugged lightly on my bonds, and indeed my hands were fastened to the head of the bed, leaving my body again quite defenseless! I grunted a little as I tried my bonds, and Ginger giggled as she sat up, still straddling my abdomen.

“There’s almost nothing you can do to stop me,” she gushed naughtily, still sitting on me. “Just imagine (that word again, Sally!), Paula—I can touch you anywhere, do almost anything to you, and you can’t stop me!” And as if to prove her point, very light fingertips sudden teased the very tips of my hardened nipples, driving me instantly into ecstasies of arousal which had me squealing, even shrieking from her touch! I was on the very point of climax—

And with a laugh, she stopped! In an instant she had gotten up off me, leaving me drowning in arousal, and I begged through my gag for her to finish what she had started with me, to give me the climax I desperately wanted, , but of course she could not understand my words! Or could she?” “Like I said, Paula,” she giggled, “playtime’s not over, so I don’t want you coming just yet! I want to see what other fantasies I can get going in your head!” And as her next step toward that, from nowhere she seized my ankles and yanked me downward on her mattress, stretching my tied hands even more tightly above me! Then as my imagination did indeed run wild again, picturing me secured to a lab table for a monstrously mad doctor’s hideous experiments, I felt her wrap more rope around my left ankle, and in moments she had stretched my foot wide and tied it to a corner of the bed! She was tying my legs open! I began to protest—I’ve never been that vulnerable before!—but heedlessly, she took my right ankle and did the same to it, binding it to the opposite corner of the foot of the bed! I lay with my arms bound stringently above me, and my legs spread far apart to the corners of the bed, utterly, absolutely, profoundly exposed and helpless!

“Now,” she cooed, her voice tickling into my ear so close I could feel her breath on my cheek, “you really are completely helpless! I literally could do anything to you I wanted, and you can do absolutely nothing to stop me! Your whole body is lying open to me, Paula—I can touch you anywhere,” she taunted, and I felt a strange tickling dancing across my abdomen, something firm but flexible and supple. She teased it all over the flesh of my abdomen, my chest, dancing it between my breasts, now over my agonizing nipples, and then it traced a path down the centerline of my body, down over my ribcage, over my tummy—down it went!—and during its trip I felt a flicker of something thin and hard, like a small stick, attached to the small supple fabric—and suddenly I understood what it was. It was a crop! A riding crop, and the little swatch of fabric had been a soft leather loop hanging from its end! I could not, of course, see it, but I could picture it as clearly as if my eyes were uncovered! And still it descended down my powerless, trembling, sweating body, down and down to my gushing center! And there it teased my again, the loop of the riding crop teasing at my exposed, unprotected, delicate little rosebud, and at the lightest touch my body convulsed, absolutely convulsed! I strained against all my bonds—I screamed through my gag—but just as my body trembled at the literal point of climax, again the touch was gone! My voice through my gag was desperate, pleading, begging her to make that last touch to give my the climax I would have given anything to achieve!

But no! Another naughty giggle, leaving me writhing on the bed, my body electric with arousal, even the breeze of air as she walked around the bed teasing my hot helpless flesh! I tried to bring myself to that climax, but so securely was I bound that I could not provide for myself! She was torturing me! Bringing me so close to that climax, and then stopping! “So what are you now, little plaything?” she taunted with another evil giggle. “The helpless experiment on the lab table being experimented on? Tortured to see how she reacts when her orgasm is denied?” I moaned through my gag! “Or maybe a captive prisoner stretched out for her captors’ use? Your legs wide open so the vicious commander can use you at his will?” I squealed! “That’s what you’re imagining, I bet!” she teased. “The prisoner in your own home, the home invader about to despoil you! That’s a very good fantasy,” she teased, “as long as it doesn’t happen in real life.” My chest was heaving with breath, my pulse racing, even as my body cooled ever so slightly from its near-climax. “Or,” she teased again, her voice taking on an odd tone, “maybe you’ve been a bad girl, Paula!” she said, and I felt her down at my feet, slowly undoing the ropes binding my ankles to the corners of the foot of the bed. “Maybe you’ve been so bad you have to be punished!” and my ankles were both untied from the bed.

In another breath, there she was beside me again, only this time scooping up my body and turning me, rolling me in place until I was prone on the bad, my arms still bound above my head, but face-down on the bed instead of supine. “And you can’t stop the punishment, can you, you little bad girl?” she taunted, again seizing one of my ankles and tying it to a corner of the footboard. With a breath-stealing shock, I realized what she intended! She was turning me over to expose my bottom—and she had a riding crop! Belatedly I tried to kick with my untied leg, but she had already seized my ankle, and in moments I lay spread as I had been before, only prone instead of supine. This was what she had been building toward! To tease me to near-climax, only to end by—oh, Sally, I couldn’t even let myself think it! Now my struggles were in earnest, desperate to avoid her plans for her riding crop and my bare bottom!

But even as I struggled, my body again responded with humid arousal! As I writhed against my bonds, my sensitized breasts, my still-painfully-hard nipples rubbed hard against the silky sheets on her bed, and in mere minutes my body was aflame again with lust despite my fear—or was it because of it? In any case, I was again consumed with arousal from my own thrashings against my bonds—and then, there was the loop to that riding crop again! It danced teasingly between my shoulder blades, teased back and forth over my back, with each stroke riding lower and lower, until it traced a tormenting, desperately arousing path slowly, straight down the center of my spine, tracing the hollow in my back along my spine, and the touch radiated straight to my center! Again I was on the very point of climax, my body begging for release—and now the leather loop danced evilly over my helpless, raised bottom! “Ooh,” she cooed evilly, “one little riding crop, and one cute little ass that’s never been spanked! I wonder how red your pretty little bum would get if I used this crop on it, huh Paula?” I squealed again, instinctively begging her to spare me that punishment, writhing wildly against my bonds, my own thrashings driving me again toward the climax I’d been twice denied! But wriggle as I might, I could not protect my bottom from the crop which was even then dancing menacingly over the flesh of my backside! Each touch made me thrash harder, and the harder my struggles, the more I aroused my own flesh! And now the little leather loop curved lightly over one of my bottom cheeks, delving down between them, tauntingly toward my helpless center! “Would you scream? Would you cry? What would it feel like to have your hot little rump whipped, hmm?”

And it was then, lost in my thrashing, that finally the gush of climax struck me with almost literally bodily force, Sally! My whole body convulsed electrically as my climax cascaded down on me! I did scream, Sally! I did cry, Sally, literally wept as the storm poured down on my defenseless body! I couldn’t tell how long it lasted—seconds or hours—but my body’s orgasmic spasms felt like that would drain me to utter death! Had I not been tied tightly to the bed, I have no doubt I would have flown to the ceiling, Sally!

But as is inevitable, the erotic storm slowly subsided, leaving utter, complete enervation in its passing. I was panting, my body limp and trembling in Ginger’s sheets, my bound limbs tingling numb as my climax slowly passed. Each breath brought a weary squeal from my throat as the last of my lust faded, until I lay absolutely still, unable to move even had I not still been securely bound and gagged. I had never been so completely depleted by a climax as I had just been!

As my senses began to return to me—except my sight, still stolen by my blindfold—I felt a strange stillness, as if Ginger wasn’t even in the room. But just as I began to suspect that she had indeed left me alone, I felt her sit again on the edge of the bed, and soft, delicate fingers were soon undoing the knots binding my ankles to the bed. “God, Paula,” she murmured, a tone of what sounded almost like admiration and amazement in her voice, “you…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that! I barely touched you, and you came so freakin’ hard!…” I remained still and limp as she untied my other ankle, then began to untie my hands from the headboard of the bed. “But it’s like I said, Paula,” she observed as she freed my hands from the headboard and she gently pulled me up to a slumping seat on the bed beside her, “imagination is so powerful! You have to absolutely pity people who don’t have one, don’t you?” I couldn’t answer for the ballgag still in my mouth, of course, but even as she spoke she was undoing the knots tying my hands together. In moments, my hands were untied, but I hardly had strength to move them, much less remove my blindfold or gag! As if she sensed that, she softly pried my jaw a little and plucked the ball from my mouth, letting it hang like a pendant at the base of my neck. “But you, Paula…you gave your sex organ a workout like I’ve never seen!”

“But you barely touched me,” I protested after rediscovering my voice.

“No, you don’t get it,” Ginger said, gently massaging my hands in my lap, but disengaging one of her hands as she spoke. “The sex organ is up here,” she said with a quick titter, gently tapping the side of my head with her finger. “The other things are just reproductive organs. People can use those all the time and not have any idea of what sex really is.” Again she rubbed my hands, teasing life back into my fingers as she spoke. “I mean, even now you’re imagining, aren’t you?” she said, and I was only then struck by the fact that she hadn’t taken off my blindfold! “The aftermath scene, right?” You’ve been used up, spent, your captor and torturer gone, leaving you wiped out but alive, and now your rescuer rallies you, brings you back to life.”

“Something like that,” I admitted, and I was indeed picturing such a scene in the world behind my blindfold. “Like you said about sensory deprivation.”

“And you still haven’t taken off your blindfold,” she teased. “You want to fantasize a little more?” My body was enervated completely, and no matter that I did indeed want to submit myself to my imagination until Richie himself was literally there taking my hands away from Ginger, I knew I had no strength to do so. I disengaged a hand and reluctantly removed my blindfold. It was as I had guessed; Ginger sat naked beside me, but absolutely unabashed, unashamed, and she must have expected me to react to that. “Like I said, Paula, you’ll get used to seeing us naked. I notice you’re not so embarrassed by being naked in front of me at the moment!”

“I’m too wiped out to be embarrassed,” I giggled. I truly was exhausted, but I was strangely full of some other kind of energy which had my mind fairly swirling with excitement even as my body wilted.

“Good!” Ginger giggled, but with an odd note in her voice. “That’ll come in handy!”

“When?”

“You mean besides the next time your husband is out playing sidekick to our landlord the Nipponese Picker?” she snickered, rising from the bed. I must have nodded. “Sorry, no spoilers!” she giggled, and in one last moment she had gathered up her shower supplies and left me alone, thinking of what that could mean!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Sun Aug 18, 2013 2:17 pm

Oh, I think you already know my answer to whether I want to read more of Paula's adventures, but just to make it clear: heck yeah! The way that story ends, it makes me think that Ginger may have some plans to initiate a spur-of-the-moment kidnapping game, making sure that Paula's okay with it only as the game is starting. I wonder if anyone will be tying Ginger up, though. I know from the Change-of-Life Adventure that she likes being on the receiving end too.

Role Reversals, part 1

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Sun Sep 01, 2013 7:58 pm

Paula survived her "play night" with Ginger, and now she's trying out her new lessons--with Richie! What deviltry is about to break out in Chateau Snoop? PLEASE send some feedback about the tale--it would be very helpful!...

Well, for you, Zaphod, I'll let Paula keep telling her tale. But it might not go as you expect... :lol:
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Dear Sally,
The more I thought about what Ginger told me about being like her, the more I began to agree with her! That whole “play night” with her while Richie was with his stepfather stayed in my mind, and I have to say, affected me. I’ve found myself thinking more and more about my sexuality and what mind of person I am, and the more I think about it, the less I feel that Ginger and I are fundamentally different. Oh, yes, Sally, of course we’re different in that I’m much more monogamous than Ginger—after all, having Richie means not needing anyone else!—and I don’t have a collection of whips, handcuffs, riding crops, ballgags, and other things, like she does, but I do think we’re muck alike in being experimental and willing to try new sexual things. And tonight, well, Richie found out just how experimental I am!

You know he asked me about my “play night” when he came back from the trip, and you also know I edited it a good bit. It was one thing to actually live out the things Ginger did with me, but another to actually describe them. I did tell him how she tied me up and teased me, and the lesson I learned about imagination being arousing, but didn’t go into extreme detail about it. I think my vagueness intrigued Richie, because he teased me about wondering what I was imagining doing right then. That set off the crazy thing I did tonight!

We were down in the basement doing my laundry, and he brought some of his own from the trip, and we sat down in the basement talking while it worked. Dr. Miyazaki has started to renovate and upgrade the basement into a small lounge where we can relax while the laundry is being done, or simply cool off on hot days in the cool basement. With eight people living here, I can see how the house can get very crowded when we are all there, which makes another room a very good idea. At this point, there really is not much down there, but the room itself has been drywalled and painted, a calming little slate-blue tone. There is a ceiling light fixture with a fan, and the room itself is set off from the rest of the basement with an archway and a curtain. The house is old, so there are posts in the basement which help hold up the floor, and two of them are in the new room, one very close to a wall he had built dividing the lounge from the laundry. About the only furniture in the room is an old futon that Trish tells me used to be in the living room until they found the sofa that is currently up there. Richie and I were sitting on the futon when he teased me about what my imagination was telling me about what I wanted to do that night. “You mean you’re not planning on tying me up and ravaging me down here?” I teased back—something I would never have done, even with Richie, before I met Ginger!

“Me? I’m a perfect gentleman!” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t tie you up unless you wanted me to!”

“Well,” I cooed, “you can’t tell what I might do. I might be the one tying you up and ravaging you! After all, you don’t know everything Ginger taught me that night!”

He just laughed. “You wouldn’t do that to me!” he winked. “Besides, even if you did, I’m too big for you to capture!” The way he said it made it sound like a challenge, and indeed my imagination was running away with me! Just then the washer load stopped, and I asked him to put it in the dryer while I went and got a new laundry load. Oh, how sneaky I was, Sally! I did have more clothes to wash, but I also was putting my quick little plan into action! While he started sorting out what could go into the dryer and what had to be hung out, I ran upstairs to the bedroom floor. Ginger was in the kitchen reading something on her tablet (strange that she has time to actually read, but I also know she is a very fast reader), and I shushed her and asked if I could borrow a few things. It’s hardly surprising that she teased me about a threesome with Richie, but I shushed her again and asked for a few things. I explained what I wanted to do, and she agreed to let me borrow what I wanted. I put all the things in the bottom of my laundry basket beneath my next load of laundry—except for one—and went back down to the basement trying to not blush and give away my plan.

I was startled—and yes, Sally, pleased!—when I went to the basement and found Richie out of his shirt! “Mind if I put my shirt in with your next load?” he asked, with a glint in his eye which told me he had his own plans! I agreed, and we went over to the washing machine to start the next load. I asked him to load the washer while I hung up some of the wet clothes on the line we had strung between two other of the posts in the basement, and of course he agreed. He agrees to almost anything I’ve ever asked him—so romantic! I knew what he would find, and that was part of my plan! “Paula!” he yelled, and I knew he had found what I’d hidden. “Rope and that ballgag? Ain’t you naughty! I think I’ll have to have me a little talk with Ginger!”

“Well,” I blushed, not completely falsely, “I’ve grown to like them, Richie! I must have just left them in there and it slipped my mind!”

“Yeah, slipped your mind,” he teased with a laugh. “What you mean is that you want me to slip them on you!”

“Well, something like that,” I replied, my face red. “But you have to catch me first!” He did what I hoped, and started chasing me around the basement, which was much dimmer than the new lounge Dr. Miyazaki is building. He’s actually a little slower than me, because I’m much smaller than he is, so I could maneuver him to where I wanted. He was waving the ballgag and rope as he chased me, teasing me that he would tie me up tighter than I’d ever been tied up before. I worked us back into the lounge, and (rather craftily, if I do say so myself!) managed to get myself trapped along the wall between the lounge and the laundry, just opposite the post. “Oh, Richie,” I mewled, putting on my captured-damsel persona, “you’ve caught me! What are you going to do with me?”

“Just what you want me to do with you!” he giggled, and he seized me by my waist and pulled me into his chest. I knew he wouldn’t tie me up until he had held and kissed me, which not only played into my plan, but is of course something I enjoy very very much! When he holds me, I feel like he’s wrapping me up into his very self! So yes, I enjoyed our kiss, but I put my plan into play! While we kissed, I sneaked my hands back to my hip pocket, and found the last thing I had borrowed from Ginger, and wrapped my arms around him again, pushing him slowly toward, and finally against, the post. “Well, now, little damsel!” he said, slipping his hands from my waist, “It’s time to make you my prisoner!” He brought his hands up to my shoulders, and then I struck! Ducking beneath him before he could do anything about it—one of the advantages of being as small as I am!—I had seized one of his wrists and spun around behind the post, pulling his arm with me. Suddenly he realized I was tricking him, but by then I had grabbed his other hand and pulled it behind him and the post! “What the”—the squeaked, but I was ready—with the handcuffs I’d sneaked into my pocket! In just a second, I had the cuffs on his wrists, leaving him bound to the post! Even better, bound to the post with his shirt off and his chest bare! “Paula!” he fairly yelled, testing the grip of the cuffs on his wrists, realizing his predicament. “What the hell is going on!” He was startled and I believe a little scared, because I’d never done anything like this to him!

“Well,” I smiled as I walked slowly around him, “I told you I like the rope and ballgag…but not always just on me! And just imagine—I have you prisoner now!” He had dropped the rope and the ballgag, and I picked them up, flaunting them at him. “And I can do anything to you I want to!” And Sally, saying that prodded a strange arousal inside me—if anything, like the arousal I felt during the play night with Ginger when I had been completely helpless! But it was also an opposite feeling—I had complete power, and the idea that I could indeed do anything I wanted to him was surprisingly erotic! In our talks after the play night, Ginger had said that having a lover completely helpless was highly erotic to her, but I didn’t really understand the feeling until I found myself flaunting the rope and ballgag at Richie handcuffed to the post! “And you can’t escape, can you?” I asked, not entirely teasing.

He tested the cuffs again. “Nope,” he said, still gazing strangely at me. “You ain’t about to go all psychotic on me, are you?” And I don’t think he was entirely teasing either, Sally!

“Well,” I teased, batting my eyes at him, “that depends on how you define psychotic, my big strong prisoner! Now if you’re a very good boy, I’ll make your captivity a bit easier, but only if you’re a good boy! So, are you going to be a good little boy so I can replace those nasty old handcuffs with some nice soft rope?”

“Well,” he blushed, “that’d be a lot easier on my wrists,” he admitted. “So I guess I’ll be a good little boy!” From my play night with Ginger, I had learned a good way to tie hands, and now I did it to him; his wrists were side-to-side because of the handcuffs, and he couldn’t fight back, so it was easy to take the rope and tie his hands by looping four loops of rope around his wrists, then cinching two loops between his wrists to secure them, as Ginger had done to me. He tugged at his new bonds as soon as I knotted off the rope, and I saw I had tied him fairly securely. I removed the handcuffs and stood before him. And one glance down at his groin showed me he was discovering that his situation was rather arousing! Boys are very hard at hiding those things, of course, Sally! Of course, he saw that I had seen his physical reaction to being bound, and oh how he blushed, Sally! Between the blush on his face and the swelling of his manhood, I’m not sure how much blood was left for the rest of his body! See how naughty Ginger has made me, Sally? “So…” he mewled, “I guess that gag is next.”

I could tell that he wasn’t merely aroused, but also rather embarrassed. And I have to admit that I was suddenly a little abashed by my forthright stare at his helpless body! That made my next move clear. “Well, you know one of the things I learned on my play date with Ginger, Richie?” I said as I rummaged in the basket for the scarf I had deliberately put in with my laundry. “How much a blindfold enhances your imagination. It lets you imagine not only what is happening around you,” I said as I folded the scarf and went back to him, “it lets you imagine whole new scenes!” With a giggle, I wrapped the long scarf around his eyes, tying it off behind his head. I asked if he could see anything, and he said he could not. “So,” I teased, “I might be standing in front of you completely naked, and you can’t do anything about it!” And the thought stiffened his manhood even more, Sally! I imagine being that aroused has to be painful for a boy! “Or I might be about to torture you, and you’re helpless to stop me!”

“Yeah,” he choked out huskily, still tugging at his bonds. “Or you could untie me!”

“Only when I want to!” I teased again. “And I think you’re talking entirely too much for a prisoner! Open wide, Richie!” He did as I asked as usual, and I put the ballgag on him as Ginger had done to me. His mouth is bigger than mine, Sally, so it went deep into his mouth when I was done, leaving only a little but visible after I had set it. “Now you can’t argue back at me, can you, prisoner?”

“Mm-hmm,” Richie replied, his voice muffled by his gag. And my own body reacted as if I were the one who was gagged, Sally, a sudden gush of arousal surging through me! And the sight of him struggling against his bonds, his bare chest heaving, the muscles in his arms and chest writhing beneath his skin, was even more arousing! I wonder if he felt like this watching me writhing in my bonds?

“Well,” I said, “now I have to make sure you’re completely secure, prisoner. I’ll be back!” And I made the most lame joke about not going anywhere while I was gone! I can’t believe how silly I was! I quickly ran back up to the bedrooms and borrowed more rope from Ginger, and ran down to find him still tugging against his bonds and grunting through his gag. Oh, Sally, seeing him like that—my body was as aroused as if I was the one tied up! “Were you trying to escape, prisoner? That’s not being a good little boy—that’s being a very bad little boy! Now what should I do about that? One thing I can do is tie you up even more!” I did what I said I would do, and tied his chest tightly to the post, working the ropes under his arms and around his chest, tying the rope tightly just above his nipples. Despite his beard, you know how smooth his chest is, Sally, and I saw that his nipples were tight and hard, which brought back the memory of the play night when my nipples had gotten so painfully gorged. I teased a nipple with my finger and thumb, and he squealed and writhed, nearly knocking me back with his reaction!

“I see you’re going to be a very bad little boy, prisoner!” I scolded him as I recovered myself. “For that I’m going to tie up your legs very tight!” I knelt down to try to tie his ankles, expecting him to fight back, but as soon as he felt my grip on his jeans, he put his feet together! He wanted me to tie his legs! I did just that, Sally, tying his ankles together, then tying them to the post, leaving him completely unable to kick out. For good measure, I took another rope and tied his legs at his knees, also securing them to the post when I had finished. That tying left me very close to his groin, and punctuated finishing tying his knees to the post by quickly running my fingers up his swollen organ. That made him shriek and writhe so wildly, Sally! But he was too tightly tied to be able to escape my fingers, and I heard myself laughing wildly! “See how helpless you are, prisoner? You can’t defend yourself, can you? And those poor little boy parts of yours are completely defenseless, aren’t they?” He squeaked again through his gag, and my mind went wild with possibilities! Possibilities I’ll have to tell you about later, Sally—just thinking about it makes me need another shower now that he’s not here to help me!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Mon Sep 02, 2013 12:53 pm

Wow, Paula's turned devious! Good for her! I usually prefer stories where the girl is the one being tied up, but this is just as good so far. Can't wait to see what Paula's got up her sleeves next, not that I think she's likely to keep wearing those sleeves for much longer. Okay, that pun sounded way cooler in my head. :)

Role Reversals 2

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Sat Sep 14, 2013 10:35 pm

Zaphod, college is bringing out a whole new side of Paula! And her adventure isn't nearly done. I just wish more people would respond to it...
**********************************

Dear Sally,
Now, where were we? Oh, yes—Richie tied tightly to the post in the basement, with me teasing his defenseless manhood! I can’t tell you, Sally, how erotic it is to be so completely in control of your lover! Ginger was so very right about that! He was writhing against the post, breathing heavily, and his male organ seemed like it was about to burst through his jeans! I could literally do anything to him I wanted, like I’ve already said—and I knew just what I wanted to do to him!

I’ve already told you, Sally, about how wonderfully chivalrous Richie is. He’s somewhat old-fashioned in that way; opening doors for me, holding my chair for me when we go out to eat—and you know how concerned he is for my dignity. He goes out of his way to treat me with the most perfect respect, you know, and you also know that it leads him to deny himself certain pleasures he could have with me. Yes, you know what I mean, Sally—pleasuring him orally (yes, I know, Sally, I’m hopelessly addicted to euphemisms!)! I know very well that boys and men like that, and Richie even admitted that he would like it too (and I suspect that he has gotten that kind of pleasure from Devan Jensen when they were going out). I love how his respect for me is so deep he doesn’t want me to pleasure him that way, but I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how he described it to me; he said that didn’t like the idea of me kneeling in front of him doing that, seeing me subservient to him. That’s the way he sees it, Sally; that image of me kneeling in front of him discomfits him, and he so cares about my dignity that he is willing to forego that pleasure just to spare me! It’s just one of the millions of reasons I love him, Sally!

But now, this was different! He was under my power, and I was in control! Now, my pleasuring his manhood would not be a scene of subservience, but of control, even of—dare I say it?—domination! He was the helpless prisoner, and I was doing to him exactly what I wanted to do to him! And yes, Sally, you know I’ve wanted to pleasure him that way, especially since my suspicions that Devan had done that to him. I admit that the act is a little unnerving to me, but I want to please him! I don’t want to know he is denying himself pleasures I can give him, no matter why he does so! And now I was going to do just that!

The obvious first step, of course, was to free his manhood so I could do that. “And now, my big strong prisoner,” I giggled evilly, “I’m going to uncover those little-boy parts, and you can’t stop me, can you?” He grunted and wriggled, straining against his bonds, which only made his organ even larger and harder! “So,” I teased, “you can be a good little boy and hold still, or I can punish you for being a bad little boy.” He held a little bit more still, and I undid the button on his jeans, and teased his zipper down slowly, giggling the whole time. My other hand I played over his taut helpless chest, occasionally teasing his defenseless nipples while I finished unzipping his jeans. He was practically bursting out as soon as I unzipped him!

But I wasn’t done! I took the waist of his jeans and lowered them down to his bound knees, slowly, ever so slowly, teasing him with the slow striptease. He was now in only his shorts, and he was literally whimpering before me, his face incandescent red, his whole body tight and straining against his bonds! “The last thing between me and you, prisoner!” I whispered in his ear, and this time I wasn’t slow, but instead quick. I snapped his shorts down fast and hard, and he gasped as he realized he was now completely exposed to me! And oh Sally, how huge and firm he was! The veins under his skin were big and pulsing, and there was the glistening of a hint of moisture at his very tip. He was so aroused!

And the rest of him! I allowed myself to step back and enjoy the sight of my Richie naked and bound, and oh, Sally, the very sight of him aroused me so terribly! His blond nether curls were a mere fringe around his enormous tumescence! His bottom was rock-firm, his muscles rippling beneath their flesh! His body was all restrained, imprisoned strength and power! And all mine, Sally, all for me! I was the reason he was in such a state of arousal! I am the girl who had him so excited! Me, Paula Ryan! I had such power over him, my nude, straining, bound god!

And all of a sudden, he wasn’t naked enough for me. I wanted to see him in his completely unclothed splendor, his golden skin straining to contain his rippling muscles! And rippling they were, Sally! He was tugging and pulling at his bonds, but so securely was he bound that his only movement was the muscles themselves futilely struggling! And in his center, his manhood twitched and bounced with each restrained wriggle! By now I was sure he knew what I intended for him, but with his mouth gagged he could not speak—could not object! His final denuding would be in two steps; first, I untied his knees from the post, and playfully tugged his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. After re-tying his knees to the post, I undid his ankles. He could have resisted at that point by not stepping out of the last of his clothes, but he docilely lifted up one foot, and then the other, allowing me to take away his jeans and underwear, and he even stepped out of his footie socks for me! I tied his ankles to the post again, and when I stepped back to admire my work, there he was, utterly and completely nude, tightly bound and gagged for me! He was breathing heavily, straining against his bonds as soon as I’d secured him completely back to his post, grunting and huffing as he tested his bonds! Oh, Sally, it was a revelation! Yes, I know his body isn’t perfect—he still has the same trace of paunch around his middle he’s always had—but his position bound tightly to the post showed up his body to its best! Even his little bit of paunch was mitigated by his position, and as for the rest of him—oh, Sally! The muscles of his legs and arms still strained, his skin rippling as they worked! His chest, full and muscled, twitching as he worked his bound arms, his taut nipples high and proud atop his pectorals! And his bottom! Even pinned against the post as he was, the taut mounds of his rear stirred me to such arousal, Sally! And finally, ultimately, his manhood! Still adamantine hard and twitching, its skin stretched tightly over it! He of course had been circumcised, as you know, Sally, and the sensitive pink knob of his tip was excitingly vulnerable! As vulnerable as a girl is when bound with her legs apart as Ginger had tied me to her bed, she is not nearly as vulnerable as a boy’s manhood when he is bound as Richie was to his post, with his tumescent organ protruding so hard in front of him, the funny little sac of his testicles hanging tautly below, cradled against his bound thighs. All mine, Sally! His body was all mine!

My own breath was ragged as I circled his bound and gagged form, greedily drinking in his naked, muscled helplessness. My own center was moist with excitement at the sight, and I knew that I could not remain clothed and demure with my helpless god naked before me. I felt my nipples digging hard into the fabric of my bra, begging for release, and while I still circled him, I pulled off my gray Jack tee shirt, urgently wriggled out of my bra. I would have him tonight, I would take him in a way he’d never been taken before, not even by Devan Jensen! “Now,” I finally said, my voice hoarse with arousal, “you’re completely helpless, prisoner! Bound tightly! Your eyes taken away! Your mouth taken away! How does it feel, my beautiful helpless Adonis? How does it feel to be the helpless prisoner, unable to resist anything I want to do to you? Are you frightened that your demure little Paula can reduce you to this? Are you worried that your quiet little bookworm of a girlfriend might not be able to control herself? I know you’re aroused, little boy—how does it feel to know I can do anything I want to it, and you can do nothing to stop me?” Just thinking those words, much less saying them, made my loins gush with arousal! Now I frantically pulled off my jeans and panties, leaving me just as nude as he was! The basement was cool as it always was, but I was sweating with aroused heat! “What is she doing, you’re wondering,” I teased. “What does she have planned for me? Can you imagine, Richie? Are you imagining the scene? Maybe you’re the captive spy, and the sultry secret agent from the enemy is about to torment you for your secrets! The captive prisoner of the Amazons, who have their helpless prisoner bound to satisfy their bursting lust on your body!” Yes, Sally, I know it sounds silly in hindsight, but it was so exciting in the heat of the moment, and oh how he responded! He wriggled and tugged against his bonds, his delicious manhood quivering with every wriggle! Yes, Sally, I was enjoying a raw sexual power like I’ve never felt in my life! “Or maybe just my own prisoner,” I added huskily, sidling up to him. “A beautiful, helpless man about to be ravaged by his woman. Can you imagine, Richie?”

And at last I could not restrain myself, and I threw myself against him, wrapping my arms around his mighty, helpless shoulders! Oh, how he yelped when I embraced him, Sally, and then when his skin told him I too was naked against him, a long, squealing sigh escaped him, and his manhood grew even larger as it pressed against my thigh! I nuzzled and gnawed at the nape of his neck, nibbled and licked at his flesh as my mouth meandered down his chest to his defenseless nipples. I remembered vividly how it felt when Richie teased at my own nipples with his mouth, and as I teased his nipples with my teeth and tongue, he writhed as I’d felt myself writhe under the same stimulus! What erotic power, Sally! He was mine! All of him! I descended further down his helpless abdomen, playing my tongue over his flesh as I lowered myself gently to my knees before him. He was sweating now, his arousal seeping from his flesh as I molested his helpless body! Now I was on my knees before my bound god, my tongue playing at his navel—and he suddenly stiffened and shook his head. He knew where I was, knew what I must look like at his feet, and even as his body screamed for release, his instinct to protect me kicked in! What wonderful love to think of me even in his helplessness!

But I was going to have my way with him, Sally! I could have forced myself on him, Sally, but that would be to denigrate the love and respect he had for me. No, I would explain it to him, even as my body quivered with arousal, begged for erotic release! “Richie,” I mewled, abandoning my taunting, dominant persona to speak to him heart to heart, rising to speak straight to him, “you know how much I love you. And you know how much I love that you worry about my dignity. I can’t imagine any boy being as considerate as you are to me.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again, spoke nose to nose with him. “There’s no one in the world who could be loved as much as I love you! But Richie,” I purred, “I…I have a need to please you. I know you don’t want me subservient to you, I know you don’t like the idea of my kneeling to you like some slave.” He mewled agreement through his gag. “But Richie,” I argued softly, “now I’m not the slave to you. You’re helpless, tied up tightly. I don’t kneel to you as a servant. I kneel to you as a woman who wants to claim you, claim all of you like you’ve claimed all of me.” I slipped down his body, kneeling at his blind feet again, and this time he did not protest as I did so, as I brushed my fingertips against his flanks and looked up at him. “I’m not your servant or your slave, Richie. I’m your fiancée. I’m the woman who will be your wife. So let that woman take you as she wants.” He hesitated—and then a long sigh escaped him. He still tugged at his bonds, still whimpered through his gag, but I could sense acquiescence radiating from him. It was going to happen!

And now, Sally, I was the one who hesitated. Not out of lack of desire, not at all—but because, Sally, as you know, I’ve never ever pleasured a man like that! I knew the basic concept, of course, but at the very moment of its reality, my mind flooded with doubts! How hard should I do it? Should I just plunge down on him? Should I tease him with my hands and fingers before I started? Should I immediately suck, or should I not? And what would happen if I went too deep on him? What if my gag reflex was triggered? The thought of having to pull away because of a gag reflex horrified me—had that ever happened to Devan? My mind wandered—what if I wasn’t as good as Devan had been? Did she know tricks I didn’t know? What should I do, Sally? And all that time, there was his manhood standing proud before me, still stiff and taut, awaiting me! What if I waited too long, and his arousal faded? What would I do then? Yes, Sally, I know I just fell into one of my old weaknesses of over-thinking things, but I couldn’t help it! You know I try to not do that, but this was something very new to me! And ironically enough, I need to fetch myself a drink, so I’ll be back shortly with a new entry!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Sun Sep 15, 2013 3:26 pm

Again, as much as I normally love to hear the story with Paula on the receiving end of the ropes, you've managed to write another chapter that I really enjoy reading. I like how your wording (in the style of Paula, of course) is so descriptive of this intimate encounter without being crude. I eagerly await the next chapter to see how Paula gets past her over-analyzing and to see what else she and Richie do next.

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby jc27 » Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:17 am

i have been following this post for some time! please continue! i like the descriptions of your story :))

Role Reversals 3

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Fri Sep 27, 2013 2:35 pm

Well, Zaphod, I think you've been very patient, so here goes...

And jc27, I'm happy to hear from you! Tell me how you like how this little tryst turns out...
******************************

Dear Sally,
Yes, I needed a drink, so I went down and got myself a Snapple green tea—and saw how late it is! Lucky for me I don’t have to work at the library tomorrow!

I was telling you how I hesitated at the very moment I was to claim Richie’s manhood for mine. I know how hesitant I can be from time to time, but that was a simply awful time to get timid! I was playing the part of the ravisher, and there I was unable to complete his ravishment! Even though Richie nor anyone else could see me, I was red with embarrassment, Sally! I was being a fool, creating this situation and then being unable to complete it!

Richie was still protesting faintly, but my words had struck home with him, and those protests were now muted. He glistened with sweat from his struggles against his bonds, so much that his head sagged from fatigue even as I set myself again at his feet to consummate the scene. He whimpered a little through his gag, as if surrendering himself to me. And that thought, that he had surrendered and was now helplessly waiting for me to claim him, inflamed me again. I set aside my doubts and uncertainties as best I could, and determined to claim him for mine. I reached out and took him in my right hand, wrapping my fingers lightly around the base of his member, my thumb softly caressing the side of the shaft, and drew it out ever so slightly to me. As soon as I took hold of him, his manhood rose even further, hardening literally to my touch. I could feel his pulse in the blood vessels under his taut skin, and I knew his heart was racing. No less was mine, Sally! He squeaked as I drew his swollen member toward me, and I lightened my touch even more, understanding how sensitive that part of his anatomy was. The moment was at hand!

I focused on the very tip of him now, and my eye lit on the glimmering drop of fluid shimmering there. It was fascinating in its way; this was the warm fluid which would fill me at the climax of our lovemaking, the hot liquid I would feel gush into me at his climax! Here it was, but under my control, a part of him I could examine—that I could taste! And that’s what I did, Sally! I lowered my lips down to him, pursed them, and placed my most delicate kiss right there on his very tip! He shuddered, Sally, as my lips touched him there, and his manhood quivered in my grip! Now my tongue found the drop of his masculine fluid, the tip of my tongue prodding at the little drop—now not seeming quite so little!—and probing it. It was surprisingly mild in flavor as my tongue explored it, perhaps the smallest bit salty, and very smooth and creamy in texture—and in that moment, I don’t know how or why, Sally, but I craved more! I wanted more of him, Sally, and that craving erased all by uncertainties and doubts, crashed through my silly worries about whether I was doing it right or wrong, and I lowered my mouth down upon him! Not fast, not harshly, but firm and insistent even as I did my best to be gentle to him. And heavens, how he shuddered when I did so, Sally! His whole body convulsed as I impaled my mouth on his organ, and he squealed in agonized ecstasy! He still seemed to protest, but his protest was drowning in his own delight! I slowed as my lips reached my hand which still held him, and I sensed his tip at the very point of my uvula. Not wanting to gag myself, I stopped, and my curiosity got the better of me. I looked up at him standing writhing against the post to which I had tied him—

The cheeks I saw beneath his blindfold and above his gag were fiery red, even beneath the blonde fuzz of his beard! His chest heaved, and my mouth sensed that his manhood was enlarging even inside me! He belonged to me, Sally! Now, I was more confident, now I knew I was pleasing him. Slowly I raised my lips up his shaft, sucking ever so lightly upon it, and his squeals grew louder! I hadn’t yet reached his tip, so I played my tongue up the side of his shaft as I rose upon him; even my tongue could feel his pulse pounding through his veins! Such power, Sally! Now I was at his tip again, and my tongue playfully tickled at it—and was rewarded with another drop of his fluid, warm to the touch of my tongue! I flicked my tongue over his tip again, and he stiffened against his post, as firm and hard as the masculine organ which filled my mouth! Now I plunged down on him again, more forcefully now that I was gaining on confidence, my suction and my tongue fully claiming him for mine. His squeals turned into whimpers—my big strong Richie, whimpering helplessly as his Paula claimed him! Oh, how thrilling it was, Sally! My own body was resonating to his arousal, and I felt my own moisture gathering between my thighs, my own nipples as hard and proud as Richie’s! The sense of power was so intoxicating, Sally! His body ached with pleasure at my touch, and he was powerless to stop it! I rose on him again, and now I released my grip on his member to seize his bottom with both hands. My fingertips dug into the hard muscles of his rear, and the tension in those muscles told me the story of how much he was being pleasured! I drove myself down on him again, and I felt his pelvis thrust up toward me, urgently prodding his tumescence deeper into my mouth. He was resisting no longer! Now I abandoned all pretense of gentleness, Sally, and played my mouth hard and forcefully upon him while his whimpers turned into grunts, then squeals again—

Then a choked cry escaped his gagged lips, and I felt his manhood suddenly quiver in my mouth. He was at the point of his climax! For a moment—only for a moment, Sally, for events raced too quickly for long thought—I hesitated about how to proceed, for I knew very well what would happen next. I raised my lips near his very tip—sucked as hard as I dared—

Then, oh, Sally! How he gushed! A throaty wail escaped his throat, and in that very instant my mouth was filled with scalding-hit fluid! I was startled for a moment, Sally, at the force with which his seed gushed into me, so hard and fast that it spilled out from my lips! But I held onto him determinedly, swallowing a hot rush of his liquid manhood even as more and more surged into me. His whole body was hard and shaking, and involuntarily he drove himself deeply between my lips, overflowing me with his hot fluid!

Then he sagged, and the gushing flood subsided, his whole body seeming to deflate as his climax subsided. But greedy as I was, I wasn’t yet ready for him to fade away; my body was afire with lust, and I was determined to satisfy myself on his defenseless, helplessly bound body! Now, though, his manhood deflated even in my mouth, and I busily lapped up the fluid which even then was cooling into sticky creaminess in my mouth. I allowed his member to fall away from me while my tongue tried to clean up my lips from his excess semen. I could feel the sticky, cloying moisture on my chin, and even in the valley between my naked breasts. With my fingers, I scooped up his moisture, gathering up a pearly white dollop of his manly seed on my fingertips. And pearly white is a good description, Sally; it clung sticky and smooth to my fingers, and my curiosity sought a fuller, slower taste of that fluid which had gushed into me. For oddly enough, there was little to taste as his climax filled my mouth to overflowing; only by gathering his spilled seed could I get a good taste of what he had filled me with. The taste was much like the small drop I had tasted before, smooth and creamy and mildly salty, and bemusedly I sucked the remainder off my fingertips, and even scooped up the few drops left on my chin and the flesh of my breast like a child might lap up spilled cake frosting. It was an odd taste, but in its way delicious! That was what Richie had so often filled me with, what would perhaps one day mix with my body to create our children!

And it was that thought which rallied me. My body was still radiant with my own arousal, and I was determined to raise him again to sate my own lust! But for a moment I composed myself to speak to him. “My, but you were such a bad little boy!” I teased with a giggle, in hopes of alleviating any worried he might have had about having climaxed in my mouth, which I was sure had horrified him, so worried he always was for my dignity. “He made such a mess!” I stood, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, felt his heart still pounding against my naked flesh. “Lucky for him I was so thirsty! But what shall I do to punish my bad little boy for making such a mess?” He whimpered again, and in that moment his manhood, which had been so spent only moments before, was stirring again! “And I do think he’s going to be bad again! I do believe I’ll have to do something about that!” And you could certainly guess what I did, Sally—I did him again!

Now I was so confident! I had brought him to such a wild climax with my lips and tongue and mouth, and now I plied myself to raising him again. And now he was no longer resistant, Sally, but enthusiastic! In what felt like only moments, his manhood was hard and taut again, but now I had a surprise for him! I rose from him, noting the little squeak of protest that escaped his gagged mouth—“Now, you bad little boy, it’s time for you to please me! You’ve been a bad boy for your good little girl, now you have to make your bad little girl happy like she made you!” I even smacked his bottom lightly as I rose, and oh how he blushed, Sally! I reached down and took him, raised myself on my tiptoes, and my body rang with arousal as I guided him into me! I was filled with such erotic strength, Sally, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and lifted myself onto him, riding him as he writhed helplessly against his post! I wrapped my legs around him and rode him like I might have ridden stallion, Sally! “Now who’s the victim?” I cried as I rode out my blistering lust on him. “It’s you, little boy! Your bad little girl is raping you, isn’t she? Forcing you to please her! And...and you’re…” My breath was hard to come by, Sally; it was hard work raping him! But oh so worth it, for soon my body reached a breathless climax, just before his manhood climaxed inside my womanhood!

As his member deflated again, I lowered myself to the floor, my arms exhausted from holding me up on his body, my womanhood still gushing, my legs quivering with enervation after a powerful climax. And poor Richie slumped spent against his post, emptied of all but life itself—by me, Sally! I was the one who had so drained him! I wanted to feel my power over him, and heavens, how I’d felt it! We were both spent! “Now, I think you’ve made up for being such a bad little boy, Richie,” I purred to him. “Shall I relent and untie you?” And for the smallest moment, Sally, he hesitated! He wanted to be my bound and gagged prisoner! He truly did belong to me! But after a long sigh, he nodded his head ever so wearily, and I slowly untied him from his post. First his ankles, then his knees, then his body, higher and higher on him until only his hands were bound. His hands would be last; first I freed his eyes from the blindfold, then his gag. His eyes were tired, but they sparkled when they settled on my naked body, and he smiled when his mouth was freed. For long moments, he tried to find words. “Wow,” he finally gasped. “That was so…”

“Something else I learned,” I teased him. “Being helpless is so arousing! When your body is bound, your imagination is still free, and…” I finally untied his hands, and he wrapped them around my waist and drew me to him. “And I’d love to hear what you imagined when you were my prisoner, Richie!” I teased. And he got the strangest twinkle in his eye.

“Were?” he said. “I’m still your prisoner! You’ve got me chained right here”—he said, taking my hand and teasing at my pinky finger—“And if I’m lucky, I won’t ever escape, Paula!” Oh, I’d never felt so loved, Sally, then at that moment, wrapped up in his tired arms, knowing he was mine as much as I was his!

“Then I guess we’re each other’s prisoner, Richie,” I mewled, snuggling against his naked chest. “And I don’t ever want to escape! But,” I said as my knees wilted beneath me, “I think we do need to sleep! Being your captor is exhausting!” We both laughed, we wrapped ourselves up in some of my fresh towels, and we went upstairs to shower together (which, well, is more romantic in theory than in fact, to be honest). Afterward, Richie was so tired I didn’t trust him to go home, so he fell asleep curled up in my bed, in my arms. But you know something, Sally? If we’re going to keep doing this, I need a bigger bed!

And now I must return to him, Sally. Finally my arousal is boiled away, and my eyes are so heavy! Even as cramped as my bed is and will be with Richie in it, it’s the best—the only—place in the world for me!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Jason Toddman » Fri Sep 27, 2013 3:15 pm

Story moved to Fictional PG-17 Section at author's own request.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Sister Acts

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Fri Oct 04, 2013 10:56 pm

First of all, thanks to Jason for helping me get this tale into its proper place. Many thanks again, Jason!

The next couple entries in the diary introduce the last two of the Chateau Snoop roommates moving into Snoop Towers; Felicity Mabrey and Chelsea Parker. Those who follow the Snoops at Yuku or my dA page know these two very different (but still best friends) young women well; for the rest, well, Paula will introduce you to her old classmates, now new roommates...
***********************************

Dear Sally,
I’ve been learning an awful lot about places lately, Sally. My place outside my own home. My place with Richie. My place in my new home on Schaefer Street and Chateau Snoop. My place in Snowden State. And my place with new friends and old.

I’d become used to being the low girl on the Snoop Towers totem, the one to wash dishes, the one to pick up the living room, generally to be the one who was the new girl on the block. But today that changed, because now Snoop Towers is full. The last two of us have moved in, and now I’m no longer the low girl on the totem.

I knew Felicity Mabrey and Chelsea Parker were coming, of course. For them, moving wasn’t as imperative as it was for me; they had no heart-wrenching ghosts to escape as I do. In fact, they had reasons to wait to come here with us. For Chelsea, of course, it was her baby sister Virginia. Ginny, as everyone calls her, is still barely a toddler, barely a year old, and Chelsea has always doted on her. She doesn’t want to be nothing more than an occasional visitor for Ginny to vaguely remember; she wants to be Ginny’s big sister. I’ve been a big sister, and I know how fulfilling it is to fill that place with a baby sister. I would never blame Chelsea for being loath to leave Ginny behind!

Felicity is in a similar place. She’s the oldest of the Mabrey girls, with two younger sisters, Serenity and Charity. She’s actually eager to get started at Snowden State, but for her there is a certain gravity being exerted on her by her little sisters, especially Charity. I know Serenity very well—I’m probably closer friends with her than I am with Felicity—and I know that despite her chance to be the big sister at home, she hasn’t looked forward to Felicity moving out. I don’t know Charity that well—she’s only going into sixth grade—but Serenity has told me how upset Charity is that Felicity is moving out. Perhaps for a young girl like Charity, having a sibling leave is upsetting, despite Charity’s desire to be known as strong and in charge.

It was Felicity who came first that Saturday morning, with a small truck full of her things. It was mid-August already, and scorching hot. She pulled up in the old Dodge Intrepid her dad has bought for the daughters to use when they were old enough to drive, in a black-and-white horizontal-striped tank top and black shorts, and a pair of black flip-flops on her feet. The only color on her person, as usual, was a spot of bright red—in this case, a red petunia just above her left ear. She unfolded herself from the driver’s seat—she’s about 5-10 or 5-11, so a low-roofed car like the Intrepid was rather a tight fit for her—and watched as a bigger Pacifica pulled up behind, and the small U-Haul behind that. Her mom came out of the driver’s seat of the Pacifica, tall and slim and black-haired like her daughters; Serenity out of the passenger seat in a loose gray tee shirt, black soccer shorts, and white Keds on her feet; and Charity from the back seat in a sleeveless aqua polo shirt, light-denim shorts, and a pair of Nike cross-trainers. Felicity was practically bubbling with excitement as her dad emerged from the truck in jeans and a tee shirt which showed off his still-trim build very well, but Serenity was a bit impatient, and there was an odd pink shade to Charity’s face, which taken with a pushed-out lower lip and a creased brow, suggested that she had been crying. That’s one thing about Charity; for as strong and brave a girl as she is, Charity is also given to easy tears. I could tell just from looking that she already missed Felicity!

“Here I am! Start my party!” Felicity cried with an airy laugh as she burst through the door like she was the main attraction. “Hey, Paula! Where’s everybody?” I explained that Trish and Krysten were at the lab early that day so Krysten could be home later to help her sister Chelsea move in, Hannah and Maggie were up on Valleyview Drive near Felicity’s own house borrowing their parents’ pool that day, and Ginger was upstairs preparing their room for Felicity’s move. “Oh, so they’re scared of me, are they?” she laughed. “Well, they ought to be!”

“I feel safer already,” Serenity said, and it was clear that she was trying to go along with the kidding, but not succeeding very well. There was a certain listlessness to her that I’d seen whenever she is feeling depressed and trying to fight it, and the reason why was evident.

“Yeah, she’s safer leaving home to come live in a dump like this!” Charity scoffed, her arms folded over her chest, and I could tell that she was, as Serenity has said she often does, using sarcasm to hide her pain. If nothing else, the hard blinking of her big green eyes gave the lie to her offhanded sarcasm.

“Dump? Dump?” came a voice from the top of the stairs, and there emerged Ginger in a black cap-sleeve tee and black short-shorts that left little to the imagination. When Ginger is out to make an impression, little gets in her way! “I’d resent that if it wasn’t true!” For just an instant, Ginger’s gaze took cool note of the situation, and the incisive humor returned to her penetrating black eyes. “You’re gonna end up fighting a thumb war with me over that wisecrack, Miss Piggy-tails! Nobody insults my house and gets away with it! Sometimes,” she added hilariously as she descended the stair. “Come on, Piggy-tails, help us move your sister’s stuff in here so you and The Middle Child can go home and divide up her room!” That almost set off Charity crying again, and Ginger’s expression softened. “Come on, help me out here, okay?” she asked in that way of hers that is a subtle order, and Charity shuffled out behind her. On the way out, she greeted Mr. and Dr. Mabrey coming in, and I’ve gotten used enough to Ginger’s nature to not be surprised at the rather obvious leer she showered on Mr. Mabrey. I wasn’t even surprised by the leer she gave Dr. Mabrey! “I love visitors,” I heard her chortling out onto the porch, “especially as afternoon snacks!” She was giggling at herself all the way out to the street and the truck.

“Yeah, she’s not taking it too well,” Felicity smirked as soon as Charity went out the door. “Of course,” she said, tossing the smirk off at Serenity, “neither is this one.”

“I’ll be all right,” Serenity sighed impatiently. “It’s just…Now I won’t have anybody to blame things on,” she tried to tease her big sister.

“Blame it all on Jerkface,” Felicity tried to quip, just before we all heard Ginger yell, “Food! Food! I love you already, Felicity!”

“She’s as fun as I remember!” Felicity giggled, remembering Ginger from the last Camp Evergreen session when Felicity was a senior counselor and Ginger was senior staff.

“You have no idea!” I told her just before Ginger staggered in with a load of grocery bags in her hands, Charity following behind with her own load of groceries. “I guess we should start bringing in your stuff,” I added, and we went out and brought in a bunch of Felicity’s clothes. We and her parents made two more trips bringing stuff into the living room and hallway, and still Ginger and Charity were in the kitchen! I was just starting to worry about what she could possibly be doing with Charity when I heard voices coming back up the hallway, most notably a giggling voice that could only be Charity’s.

“Or we could turn her old room into my own little game room!” Charity smiled, and Ginger favored us with a quick wink as they passed us through the hallway to gather up more food. Which thankfully set Charity to rights. Ginger seems to have a talent like that!

The rest of the carrying went quickly. Dr. and Mr. Mabrey offered to help take Felicity’s stuff up to her new room, but Ginger demurred on the grounds that her room was already too messy for anyone to see it. I of course knew the real reason. Which Felicity was about to find out, just as soon as the Mabrey parents took Serenity and Charity back home. Ginger offered to take up some of Felicity’s clothes if she Felicity would take a second batch. Ginger went up quickly enough that she had left the room before Felicity could go in. I waited at the foot of the stairs for what I knew was coming. “Oh—My—GOD!” I heard Felicity scream as Ginger passed me on the stairs coming down as I went up. I decided to be nice and try to calm her shock at discovering just what kind of a room she would be sleeping in.

When I reached the door, Felicity was emerging with huge eyes and her mouth hanging open. “Now, Felicity, it’s not as bad as it looks,” I tried to reassure her, only to be met with another “oh my God!” half-whispered from her as she leaned against the closed door. “Ginger doesn’t really mean any harm by it! I know it seems like a lot to take in, but”—but Felicity interrupted me in a way I didn’t expect!

“I—freakin’ love this place!” she yelled, and I saw belatedly that her eyes carried not horror but amazement, and now her mouth formed an enormous grin. “I am seriously not in Kansas anymore, Toto! I’m rooming with Bettie freaking Page! This is so cool! Whips and chains and everything! Does she have any fuzzy handcuffs? I’d bet she has some fuzzy handcuffs! And ball gags, right out of Pulp Fiction—she’s got to have some of those! It’s a freaking dungeon! Score!” All right, so my attempts to reassure her apparently weren't needed! “Did you see it, Paula? Do you even freakin’ know what’s in my bedroom?”

“Well…I’ve…seen inside,” I said, and I know my face was red! “I don’t spend a whole lot of time in there.” If she only knew, Sally!

“Well, I think it’s an absolute score!” Felicity exulted. “I knew there were people out there who were into that, but I never thought I’d be rooming with one!” She laughed. “And my God, just think of Sibs’ Weekend! If I showed any of this stuff to ‘Ren, she’d freak out!” Which was true, I admitted to myself; Serenity had her secret love of tie-ups outed during the Camp Evergreen session last year, so everyone knows that Felicity’s sister likes being tied up. But I don’t think she’s had anything done to her like Ginger did to me!

“Oh, my God,” Felicity giggled, “when Chell finds out she’s rooming with someone like Ginger, she’ll crap herself! You know how vanilla she is, Paula—I don’t think she and that ex of hers ever did anything but the missionary position!” I know I was blushing, Sally; I’ve always known that Felicity is rather over-the-top in her conversation sometimes, but she’d never been that over the top! I like to think of myself as adventuresome sexually, as you know, but I’ve never really talked about it as openly as Felicity does!

“But didn’t you and Mitchell split up too?” I asked. It had been a rumor just before I left for Chateau Snoop, and I hadn’t talked to Felicity since.

“Yeah,” she smirked as she headed downstairs to fetch more of her things, past a beaming Ginger who’d heard everything Felicity had yelled. “He had his own routines. You remember he wanted to date ‘Ren at first, after he found out about her and her tie-up games? Well, that was him all over, but never anything actually interesting, you know. Just tie my hands behind my back and grope my boobs, mostly. Not really anything other than that, and the sex was just as missionary as it is with Chelsea and Colby.” Her ex Chelsea had recently dumped. “Jimmy Housely was more creative with his tie-ups than Mitchell was!” I was rather surprised that Felicity liked tie-up games too, and I think she noticed. “Yeah, I bet you think all of us Mabrey girls are pervs, don’t you Paula? Me and ‘Ren. It sort of makes me wonder what Jerkface dreams about with her and that little sweetheart of hers!” Her youngest sister Charity is only eleven going on twelve, but she already has a little puppy-love romance going on with one of her classmates; I think his name is Clinton Maser, from what I heard her say while we moved Felicity’s stuff in. “I wonder if I get my thing for fuzzy handcuffs from Mom? I get everything else from her!” The idea of Dr. Mabrey playing with fuzzy handcuffs was an odd one!

Felicity was garrulous like that all that afternoon as we moved her in and set up her stuff in her new room with Ginger, and I began to understand that it was her way of dealing with being away from her sisters for the first time. She was pretty clearly missing them. Then Chelsea showed up with her stuff, but that move was much calmer because she was moving in with her sister Krysten. For Felicity, it was a move away from sisters; for Chelsea, it was a move to reunite with a sister. Very odd. Both Chelsea and Krysten seemed content, but rather wary, as if they weren’t sure how to react to being sisters away from home but together. Were they equals, or would Krysten have pride of place as the elder sister even in Snoop Towers?

They look as they had before, similar but with stark contrasts. While Krysten has lovely wavy red tresses that flow well down her back, Chelsea’s hair, just as red as Krysten’s, is short, cut into a pert little pageboy cut above her ears. They are both petite, but Chelsea’s build is more athletic from her competition on the volleyball and track teams at Darius Allen High. Krysten’s complexion is pale and creamy pink; Chelsea’s is fair but mottled with as many freckles as her friend Felicity has! That is why Felicity and Chelsea were known as The Freckle Twins in school. All the time that Chelsea was moving her stuff into her and Krysten’s room, Felicity had a naughty smile on her face, as if planning something evil on Chelsea. As they got the last of Chelsea’s stuff into her new room, I found out what it was!

“Hey Chell!” Felicity called to her as they passed in the living room. “I’ve got a box of stuff here I can’t carry. Can you take it into my room for me? I’ll owe you one!”

“You’re so helpless without me, Lissy!” Chelsea teased, settling into a pleasant mood. “You’re lucky I moved in here with you!” She picked up the box, and Felicity winked at me as she passed me. “Just put it on your bed?” Felicity agreed, and Chelsea trotted upstairs with the box. Just as Felicity started to speak, we heard from Chelsea—

What in the frickin’ hell?” and Felicity immediately rolled into laughter so bad she almost stopped breathing! Yes, Sally, I laughed too! In a moment, Chelsea had run all the way back to the living room, where Felicity and I were both laughing ourselves silly! “You…you…” Chelsea’s face was scarlet red, her eyes shocked! “I’m living down the hall from a frickin’ dungeon! What were you planning on doing—locking me up in there? Are you crazy?”

From behind us came another voice. “You should have seen your face, Chelsea!” her sister Krysten giggled madly. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost!”

Chelsea spun on her. “You mean you knew what was up there and didn’t tell me?” Chelsea demanded, not particularly happy at that moment. Like Felicity said, Chelsea’s rather vanilla in certain things.

“Oh, get over it!” Krysten laughed (although she admitted to me later that she had been as shocked as her sister the first time she’d seen how her roommate Ginger had decorated her room). “It’s not like she’s going to abduct you and make you a sex slave or something!” She turned away for the kitchen. “Unless you want her to!” she added with another laugh which nearly made Chelsea’s jaw hit the floor! Then she had one more comment—“But she does have a thing for gingers, Chell! I guess it’s because of her name!”

“She is so not getting near me!” Chelsea muttered as she tried to gather herself. But you know that that wouldn’t turn out, Sally!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Sat Oct 05, 2013 10:31 pm

Oh boy, this should be lots of fun to see. I had no idea that Felicity was into the whole tie-up thing. I guess she and Serenity have that in common. As for Chelsea, she's not as innocent and pure as she pretends. I seem to remember an incident at the end of The Family Feud with Chelsea having some fun with a bound, gagged, and mostly undressed Krysten. There's bound to be trouble in store, and I can't wait to read it.

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby jc27 » Fri Oct 11, 2013 3:49 am

omg! i like! totally didnt expect how this will turn out to be! :D i cant wait to see how this will continue, and if paula will get to have more games with her new roommates or learn more from felicity plus ginger added together!

Trust Me...

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Sat Oct 19, 2013 11:29 pm

Zaphod, trouble at Chateau Snoop? Surely you jest! I know, don't call you Shirley... :lol:

jc27, I'm glad you're enjoying the tale! Rest assured that more games are about to ensue. And we find that Chateau Snoop has a second diarist in this new section...
******************************

Dear Sally,
Chelsea was wary, almost frightened, around Ginger the rest of that evening. With all the bustle involved in moving Felicity and Chelsea in that day, we didn’t really have time to cook anything for dinner, so we ordered out. As a bit of a peace offering to Chelsea, we let her pick what we got, and she decided on Chinese take-out from the Canton Palace over in the Giant Eagle shopping center. They recently set up a buffet as well as doing their regular menu, so we all piled into our various cars and got ourselves take-out buffet to bring home. As usual on our few take-out pig-out nights, we all gathered in the living room to eat and talk, and in this case get Felicity and Chelsea used to their new home. Especially Chelsea, who still wouldn’t get anywhere near Ginger. The talk was rather aimless until Ginger finally brought up what most of us were thinking. “You know, Chelsea, I don’t use those whips and chains on anyone who doesn’t want me to!” Which finally made Chelsea cringe a little apologetically.

“It’s just…you have to know how weird it looks!” she answered. “I mean, that’s the kind of stuff you see in creepy TV shows or movies!”

“Which tells me a lot about what TV shows and movies you watch now, Chell!” her sister Krysten giggled between nibbles of spring roll.

“You know what I mean!” Chelsea retorted. “You don’t imagine anyone actually having that kind of stuff for real!”

“In other words,” Tricia cut in, “you read Fifty Shades of Grey.” She winked at Ginger. “Ginge here could have written it better!”

“But seriously,” Chelsea argued, rather giving away that Tricia was right, “people don’t really get into stuff like that, do they? I mean, seriously!”

“Come on, Chell!” Felicity scoffed. “You grew up with me—you know what my creepy neighbors liked to play!”

“But that’s different!” Chelsea objected. “I mean, that was just a kid game, like cops-and-robbers or cowboys-and-indians stuff, Not like…like…”

“And what do you think it is with adults, Chelsea?” Ginger interjected, an incisive smile on her face which told me she had her own plans in mind. “It’s not all that different, it just adds sex to the equation. At least at its best,” she added, glancing at Felicity, who had clearly already told Ginger about her sexual misadventures with Mitchell. “The difference in a torture chamber and a funhouse is all in the attitude. You see a dungeon, Felicity and Paula see a playground.” Oh heavens, Sally, I just knew she was going to mention me! My face went scarlet!

Needless to say, Chelsea stared at me like I’d just grown a second head, but Felicity gaped at me with amusement. “You mean you’ve been in there? You’ve actually…cool! I never knew you got into that sort of thing!” She grinned at all of us sitting around the room. “Do you guys sit around and talk about this stuff all the time?”

“You mean tell everyone here all our perverted secrets?” Chelsea spoke up, unnerved. I have to admit that I was unnerved too! I expected a witty riposte from Ginger or Tricia or Krysten, but Hannah cut in seriously.

“One of the things you learn,” she said seriously, “is that certain secrets can lame you. And another thing you learn is that sharing secrets with people you trust, people who support you no matter what, can make you strong. It’s what the sorority is all about.” The three of us new girls must have stared at her strangely, because she started to explain. “Gamma Kappa Epsilon. All three of you are legacies, and you’d be perfect for it. Chelsea, you’re a legacy through Krysten. And Paula and Felicity, both your moms were sisters. I think you should all consider rushing us. It’s only a few weeks before the start of rush, and I think if you got to really know us, you’d all love it. But one of the things we do is share secrets. I know that’s risky, but one of the things that are most important when we pick new sisters is how trustworthy they are. We’re not some backstabbing little witches’ coven like Sigma Chi; we really do treat each other like family. Yes, we tell our secrets, but they stay with us, and we use them to strengthen each other, not tear each other down. There’s enough tearing down going on in the world already.”

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with your trust issues, Chelsea,” Ginger said softly, which startled Chelsea.

“What did Krys tell you?” Chelsea glowered indignantly.

“The only thing I know is that your parents divorced, Chelsea. The rest…you told me that.” Chelsea gaped—“The way you reacted to my bedroom. How angry you got when we said we share secrets. Even your body language, Chelsea—you’re closed off from everyone! Arms crossed, slumping—you’re angry and hurt, and you don’t trust anyone right now. Even your best friend here.” As she talked, Chelsea’s anger seemed to drain into something softly bitter. “It’s what I’m studying, Chelsea—profiling. Behavior tells people a whole lot about them. What I see is someone who’s afraid to trust.”

“Yeah, I’m going to trust someone who lives in a dungeon,” Chelsea said.

Which only elicited a sly grin from Ginger, a grin I remembered perfectly. “Well, you see, Chelsea, B & D is all about trust. You surrender your freedom to your partner, and you trust that they won’t harm you. At least in ways you don’t want. You have to really trust someone to let them tie you up.” She glanced at Felicity, who stared as well. “That’s why your sister is so submissive to Joey. She violated his trust once, and she still feels guilty about it.” I remembered perfectly well the fallout from her mistaken kiss with Jaden Ross; Serenity had been near-suicidal for most of the three-quarters of a year she and Joey Housely were apart. “She even lets him gag her now, I expect, even with her hating gags so much.”

Chelsea was highly suspicious, glaring incredulously at Ginger. “So wait a minute!” she demanded. “I know where this is going! I’m supposed to let you tie me up so I can learn to trust you, right? As if that’s ever going to happen!”

“Good guess, Chelsea,” Ginger grinned. “Wrong, but a good guess.”

“You mean we’re not playing bondage games to teach me to trust?” Chelsea scoffed.

“Of course we’re playing bondage games to teach you to trust,” Ginger chuckled. “Just not the way you think.” That startled Chelsea. “Here’s the deal,” she said, and she explained the game she was planning on playing. You wouldn’t believe it, Sally, except for the fact that Ginger was organizing it, which made it perfectly believable! It was only the next day that Felicity had settled down enough to talk about it! And I think she spent most of last night writing about it. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only diarist in Chateau Snoop now!

Felicity Mabrey’s Excellent Snowden State Journey!

Dear Aunt Joy,
I know I’ve written a whole lot of weird stuff to you, Aunt Joy, but I think this is the first one that you’d be glad you’re dead so you won’t have to really read it. As if you didn’t already know how weird my friends and I are, what happened tonight is just about the weirdest of all!

First of all, Chateau Snoop is absolutely the coolest place on Earth! I was a bit depressed about moving out and leaving ‘Ren and Jerkface, but once Ginger got Jerkface feeling better, I felt a bit better about it too.

And then I went into my room for the first time. Seriously, Aunt Joy, OMG doesn’t even begin to describe it! I knew Ginger was, I guess you’d call it outspoken and eccentric, but you don’t even know what eccentric is until you’ve walked into your new bedroom for the first time and seen the walls covered with whips, chains, and collars! When you go from a bedroom painted in pastel colors and decorated with all the silly things you liked when you were a kid (hey, that wasn’t my fault, blame Dad for not letting me remodel my bedroom!) to a bedroom that has BDSM stuff hanging on the walls, you really aren’t in Kansas anymore! Not that I have anything against tie-up games and such, you know, but to have it so clearly announced that your new roomie is seriously into the heavy duty whips-and-chains stuff is a real shocker to the system! Anyhow, I really freaked out Paula when she heard me yelling about it. And I absolutely knew that Chell would totally freak out if she got a look at it, so I couldn’t resist decoying her in there just so she could see all the whips and chains Ginger has. OMG! She didn’t disappoint, either! And Paula Ryan! It turns out that our quiet little Miss Skellington is a bondage lover too! In fact, it turns out that she’s already played some of Ginger’s silly little games! That’s the thing with Paula; it’s so easy to see her as just a quiet little bookworm with a taste for Jack Skellington and romantic poetry, but she’s a complicated little thing! Of course, after what happened with her best friend Kellie Kirk (geez, I wish they’d finally find her body so everything could settle down about that!), Paula’s earned the right to be a little eccentric.

Anyway, there was little Miss Skellington smiling like the Mona Lisa while Ginger described her little game. And you know something? Ginger would make a good counselor if she decided to do that instead of being a profiler! She read off Chell’s problems with trust right away! Now you know you can’t really blame her for that after the way her dirtbag of a dad ran off on her mom and the baby he’d made with her, but on the other hand, Krysten has adjusted pretty well. And Chell’s never been the type to take people on trust anyway. I think me, Chell, and Paula will get along pretty well once things settle down; I like both of them, they both like me, and I think Paula and Chell will get used to each other. Especially after last night! Talk about your OMG!

Chell was absolutely right about Ginger using TUGs to get her to trust, but I guessed that it wouldn’t be about tying up Chell. I figured it was going to be Chell tying me up! But then Ginger, who’s always been good at throwing people curveballs if you know what I mean, threw us another one! Of course, Chell was way on her guard! “Wait a minute—you mean you want me to tie you up? What’s the deal?”

“The deal,” Ginger explained, “is that the first step in trusting other people is sometimes to show you can be trusted.”

“Of course I can be trusted!” Chell answered Ginger back. Her temper was about to let go again! “Why shouldn’t I be trusted?”

“You tell me,” Ginger shrugged. “But in any case, I’m trusting you to not harm me. In fact,” she said, standing up, “you can pick out any of my toys you want to use on me.” She looked at me and Paula. “You two come along, too—I might need witnesses!” she teased. You want weird, Aunt Joy? My first night at the new house, and we were playing tie-up games with real bondage toys!

“And what if I don’t want to?” Chell said, not standing up.

“Your loss,” Ginger winked. “In any case, I’m going up and getting ready. You can come up if you want. Or not. It’s your choice.” And true to her word, Ginger was up the stairs!

The rest of the girls were grinning at us. Tricia Dwight, Krysten, and Hannah and Maggie were used to Ginger, of course, and you could just tell they were expecting Ginger to do something like that. “You might as well get it over with, Chell,” Krysten giggled. “Ginger will keep pestering you until you play bondage games with her some way or other, so you might as well go ahead. She won’t bite!”

“Especially if you stuff one of her gags in her mouth,” Tricia laughed. “Besides, that’ll keep her moaning down so the rest of us don’t have to listen to it!” She stood up and picked up the closest pizza box to her, and Hannah and Maggie and Krys were picking up plates and heading off to the kitchen. “We won’t wait up for you!” Tricia winked, and Paula, Chell, and me were alone.

“This is completely fucked up,” Chell sighed. But Paula and I both noticed that she was starting toward the stairs! “This place is insane!” But there she went, going up the stairs!

Paula and I followed, of course. We caught up with Chell just at my bedroom door, and just as if Ginger had been listening for us, she called out, “Come on in! I’m here, and I surrender!” Chell gave Paula and me a weird look, and she opened the door. And OMG, her eyes almost bulged out of her head!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby jc27 » Sat Nov 23, 2013 1:28 am

omg! hahahaha i didn't expect this twist! :mouthopen: continue please!!

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Thu Nov 28, 2013 10:37 am

After all the giving that Ginger does, it's nice to see that she'll be on the receiving end this time. I can't wait to see what it is that Chelsea is walking into.

More Excellence...

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Sun Dec 01, 2013 11:48 am

...from Felicity as Ginger's house-warming tie-up game begins! And the newest denizens of Snoop Towers find a few more surprises...

jc, you get your wish. Hope you enjoy it!

Zaphod--it might not just be Chelsea walking into something...therefore...
********************************

Dear Aunt Joy,

I will never be surprised by anything Ginger O’Day pulls off—ever! As soon as Paula and I saw Chell standing there with her jaw hanging open and her eyes bugging out, we peeked through the door to see what had Chelsea so freaked out. We looked in, and there was Ginger, standing in the middle of the room with her hands behind her back and her head down. Oh, and by the way, she was completely naked! My first night in Chateau Snoop, and there was Ginger standing there naked in my bedroom! What was more, she didn’t really seem embarrassed by it! She stood there with her eyes down and her hands behind her so we could see everything, and she was perfectly cool about it, not even a blush! She must have known what we would be thinking, because she said, “Clothes just get in the way of games like this. It’s better just to leave them off. You know that, don’t you, Paula?” OMG, Paula gasped so loud, and when we looked her face was totally red! For a second I thought maybe Ginger was just teasing, trying to hit us for a reaction, but the way Paula was blushing, I could tell that Ginger was telling the truth—Paula had not only played tie-ups with Ginger, she’d done it naked! “No need to be embarrassed by it,” Ginger said. “If you girls pledge GKE, you’re going to see each other naked anyway, so you might as well get used to it. And besides, you had gym classes together, didn’t you? You had to have changed clothes for that.”

“We at least had underwear on when we did!” Chell shot back at her. “What is with you, anyway?”

“Besides what I just told you that clothes just get in the way of bondage games,” Ginger explained, not raising her eyes, “nakedness is the ultimate surrender. Paula can tell you all about that.”

“Yeah,” Chell sneered back at Ginger, “I can tell you’re so trustworthy, Ginger. Telling us Paula’s secrets!” And for just a second, I saw a quick little smile on Ginger’s face, which she wiped off in another second.

“No, it’s all right, Chelsea,” Paula said quietly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. It was just…well, it was an interesting night. Nobody got hurt. And I learned a few things.”

“That’s you’re as big a bondage freak as Ginger?”

Paula actually smiled! Her face was still red as a beet, but she smiled! “No, I already knew that, Chelsea!” she giggled. “I was thinking more about things like helplessness and power, how it can be…sensual.” She nibbled her lip. “Both ways.” Chell and I must have stared at her strangely. “I…well, there was this one night Richie and I were doing laundry together, and, well…” She was blushing even more, but her smile was absolutely ear to ear!

“Power and trust, Chelsea,” Ginger said. “Sexuality is all bound up in both of those. So is friendship. I’m giving up all my power to you, and I’m trusting you to not abuse it.” Her eyes came up for just a second. “That’s what friends do.”

Chell stared a moment, shaking her head. “This is so fucked up,” she whispered. “I don’t know why I’m still even here.”

“You’re intrigued,” Ginger answered for her. “And you have all the power here. I’ve surrendered it all to you. What you do with it is your choice.”

“You’re probably going to get off on this,” Chell muttered.

“No probably about it,” Ginger answered her, which made Chell’s jaw drop again. “At least as long as you don’t abuse my trust. I won’t pretend I won’t like being your prisoner, Chelsea. But does that harm you in any way?”

“I’m not some kind of lesbian, you know!”

“I know, Chelsea. Neither is your mom.” Which brought Chell up like a shot! See, she remembered that one time, right after that one mystery when Mrs. Parker’s boyfriend Randy Caid tried to abduct and sell her, Krysten, Chelsea, Tricia, Ginger, and some other girls, when Ginger kissed Mrs. Parker right on the mouth! Mrs. P was feeling really hurt and betrayed and frankly kind of old, and Ginger dropped in on her to talk her out of it. Part of talking her out of it was to kiss Chell’s mom right on the mouth—and I mean a serious kiss, open-mouthed and everything! Of course Chell knew about it, and she was thinking about it when Ginger told her that about her mom not being lesbian either. Which really weirded me out for a second, you know—Ginger had frenched Chell’s mom, now she was all naked wanting Chell herself to play tie-up games with her! “But I still enjoyed that kiss, and she knows it, and it didn’t hurt her. It even woke her up enough to let herself start dating Shaun Walker! That didn’t hurt her at all!” In fact, they’re still going out, Mrs. P and Shaun Walker, and he’s almost young enough to be her son! But hey, it just proves what we already told her about how hot she still is! “If I enjoy being your prisoner, that won’t hurt you either. There’s no betrayal in it.”

Chell stood there a few moments thinking, then finally saw a big cedar chest with its lid open. Paula saw it and smiled, and I was pretty sure I knew what was in there—a bunch of bondage toys! There was a drawer open in her chest of drawers, and I guessed there was bondage stuff in there, too. “What the hell,” Chell shrugged, and went over to the cedar chest beneath the rack of whips on the wall. “Rope, handcuffs…god, I don’t even recognize half of this stuff!”

“Ginger wants you to gag her, too, Chell,” I said.

“Those are in the top drawer there,” Ginger said and there was a little smile on her face! “Pick any one you want. I can do any of them. I can get loud sometimes.”

“I’m going to need some help with this,” Chell said, a sort of sick expression on her face. “Is it okay if Lissy and Paula help?”

Ginger smiled. “You’re learning already, Chelsea. You asked me for permission, and you’re not too embarrassed to ask for help with something you’re unfamiliar with. Which means you trust them.”

“Of course I trust them,” Chell answered. “They’re my friends!” Then she stopped for a moment and glanced over at Paula. She’d never really thought about Miss Skellington as a friend, but all of a sudden she was! And that was when I began to think there was more to this game of Ginger’s than even I could figure out! “Anyway, can I?”

“You may,” Ginger answered, lowering her eyes again. “And yes, Chelsea, I’m a part-time grammar nazi. Then again, you’re an honor student and supposed to know better anyhow!”

And Chell actually grinned! “In that case, I’ll get the gag! Lissy, you and Paula pick out something to tie her up with. You probably know this stuff better than either of us, Paula!”

Paula blushed again. “Not all that much,” she admitted while she and I went over to the cedar chest full of toys beside the chest of drawers. “There’s one particular ballgag I use, and some ankle chains that feel nice.” Her blush got even worse. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything about that, should I?”

“Any fuzzy handcuffs?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Paula said as she began to rummage through the chest. “She only used regular handcuffs on me. Handcuffs and fetters would be quicker.”

“So these are ballgags,” Chell cut in, and we saw she was picking through the top drawer of the chest of drawers. “I’d heard about them, but—geez!” she practically yelled. “Look how big this one is! You can actually get this thing into your mouth, Ginger?”

“What can I say?” Ginger said, her eyes still down and her hands still behind her back. “I’m a big mouth, literally!” She giggled. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I have very flexible lips!”

“You’d have to,” Chell snickered herself, “to get a ball that big into your—holy crap!” she yelled, and when Paula and I looked, Chell was staring at something in the drawer like it was some kind of snake! “What the—is that really a”— We looked over into the drawer at the thing that Chell wouldn’t even touch, and Aunt Joy, all I can say is O.M.G! I’d never seen anything like it!

“I think you girls found my penis gag, didn’t you?” Ginger said, and for the first time I saw a little bit of blush on her cheeks. Well hey, I’d blush too if somebody found a great big rubber penis with straps on it in my dresser drawers! Not that they would, of course.

“But…I thought you were some kind of lesbian,” Chell said weakly. The look on her face, you could tell she thought she was Alice in some kind of kinky Wonderland! Actually, she was in a kinky Wonderland, if you think about it!

“Actually,” Paula said softly (like she always speaks), “she’s a pansexual. She’s attracted to all sorts. Is it all right for me to tell her this, Ginger?”

“It’s kind of late to ask, Paula!” she giggled, then “But yes, it’s all right. I’d have thought she’d have figured it out herself by now, anyway. I think of it as learning to see the beauty in everyone, Chelsea.”

“Even me?”

“You’re human, aren’t you?” Chell looked at her real strangely, then after a second she picked up the penis gag from the drawer, gingerly, by the straps attached to it.

“Is this…thing…is it, well, modeled on a…a real…” She was blushing at that word “penis!” Chell can be like that—she can curse like no other girl I know, then get embarrassed over the word “penis.” As if she hasn’t had her own experience with the actual thing!

“I don’t know,” Ginger said honestly. “It was a Christmas present a couple years ago. He might have had it modeled on his own, but I don’t think so. He didn’t have that much…diameter, if I recall correctly.”

“Do you always get gags for gifts?” Paula asked with a giggle in her voice. Ginger laughed herself.

“An interesting part of my profile, Paula! There’s something about me that makes my lovers buy me gags! Are they trying to tell me something?”

“Do you like them?” Chell asked, not defensively or sarcastically, but with genuine interest. She was getting used to the whole weird, kinky scene!

“In the right circumstances,” Ginger said. “Speaking of, you are planning to tie me up, aren’t you?”

“Well,” Chell said, winking at us, “I put Lissy and Paula on that job; they’re letting me down!”

“I’m still looking for fuzzy handcuffs,” I said, and I was. With everything else in the room, I was sure she would have fuzzy handcuffs!

“To use on her, not you, Liss!” Chell actually chuckled. She really was starting to get into the whole thing! “Unless I decide that you’re next!”

“Here are the leg fetters,” Paula said, pulling a pair of old-fashioned shackles out of the box. “That’s a start. Where are your”—

“The keys are in the top drawer with the gags,” Ginger interrupted, knowing what Paula was going to ask. “Don’t lose them—eventually I’ll want to be let loose, you know. And I think I’d like to avoid having to call in a locksmith to do it.”

“We’ll be careful,” Paula said as she rooted through the top drawer, then she smiled. “And here are your fuzzy handcuffs, Felicity. They were here with the keys.”

“I knew she’d have them!” I said. You could just tell that Ginger was the type to own fuzzy handcuffs! “Give ‘em here, and I’ll put them on her!”

But Paula only smiled naughtily. “I think you’d rather have them put on you!” she said. “Why else would you talk so much about them?”

“Are you serious?” Chell said, and when I looked, her jaw was hanging open! “You want to tie her up too?”

All Paula did was giggle! I’ve known Paula Ryan since ninth grade, and I didn’t know she even could giggle! “You know what I think we ought to do?” she said. “We ought to tie them both up and see if they get themselves untied! They’re roommates now, and they should learn to cooperate with each other!”

Chelsea actually grinned! “So do you and your roomie cooperate too?” she asked Paula, who only blushed. “But you know,” she said with a naughty smile, “it would serve them right in a way. They both shocked the hell out of me, you know!” She thought about it for a moment, and her naughty smile only got bigger. “Okay, Corpse Bride—let’s do it!” Wait what—yeah, that was what I was thinking!
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby jc27 » Sun Dec 01, 2013 10:17 pm

MAJOR LIKE! hahahaha you're an awesome story teller! i just cant wait for more ^^ more pleaaase?

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Thu Dec 12, 2013 5:16 pm

Hey, looks like Chelsea's finally getting into the spirit of this game of trust. And Felicity's going to have a very interesting time of it herself. I wonder how far Felicity will take it, in terms of how strictly she'll be tied up, and in terms of how much of her clothing will remain. I guess we'll find out next chapter, and I hope that's really soon! :)

Excellence?...

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Tue Dec 17, 2013 7:14 pm

jc27, thanks! Here's more--I hope you like it!

Zaphod, about Lissy and what she will have to deal with...
**********************************

Dear Aunt Joy,

What can I say, Auntie? Betrayed by my interest in fuzzy handcuffs! I think Ginger was reading my mind, because the first thing she said was, “Remember, Felicity, Chelsea’s the one in control here. If she wants to do it, that’s the way it is.”

“And I bet I have to get naked too, don’t I?” Ginger looked up at Chell as if asking that very question, and Chell drew a weird, thoughtful breath.

“This gets more fucked up all the time!” she said, not angrily, but actually as if she thought the whole thing was funny. “Well,” she said finally, “if Ginger’s naked, I guess you have to be too, Liss.”

“That’s up to you,” Ginger said. “Like I said, you’re the one in control, so it’s up to you whether she’s naked or not.”

Chell shrugged. “It wouldn’t be fair to single you out, I guess. So…get naked, Liss! And don’t pretend you mind!”

That got me strange looks from both Ginger and Paula, and I felt myself blushing. “Our pool,” I said, explaining what Chell meant. “We…I mean I like to skinny-dip after Mom and Dad are asleep.”

“‘We?’” Ginger asked, and I could see the same question on Paula’s face. As Ginger gave Chell a teasing little glance.

“Not her,” I said. “Somebody else who…”

“Serenity!” Ginger said with a laugh. “You mean you’ve corrupted your own sister into”—

“Hey! If anything, she corrupted me! You ask Mom—even when she was a baby, you couldn’t keep clothes on her! She’s always been a nudist! For somebody with her body-image issues, she sure doesn’t mind running around naked!”

“Says her sister who likes skinny-dipping!” Paula chimed in with her own laugh. ‘Ren’s going to kill me when she finds out I told them that! “Anyway, Chelsea said to get naked, so you have to get naked, Felicity.”

Okay, so ‘Ren’s not the only Mabrey girl who has body-image issues! Yeah, Auntie, you know all the times I’ve whined about my knobby elbows and knees, and I get sick of people like Lana Morgan telling me about how great it must be to have a natural thigh gap! Being able to count your ribs sort of puts a damper on the joy, you know! But anyway, Chell was in charge, and I’m sure I’ll get a chance to get even with her someday, so I went ahead and stripped. It wasn’t exactly like I was overdressed anyway, in my striped tank top and short-shorts, so it was only a matter of a few seconds for me to be stripped down to my undies. “Yes, they’re black too!” I said when they stared at the color of my underthings. “I’m consistent, if nothing else!” They giggled a little, and there wasn’t anything left to do but get out of my bra and panties. The weird thing was that I wasn’t as embarrassed as I expected to be; it wasn’t a problem with Chell, because she’s skinny-dipped with ‘Ren and me before, but I expected that getting naked in front of Ginger and Miss Skellington would be a little harder than it was! I think maybe it was because Ginger was already naked. “Okay, so what’s next?”

Paula looked us over, then turned to Chell. “There are two ways we can do this, Chelsea,” she said. “We can tie up one of them, like you take Ginger and I take Felicity. Or we can each do part of the job on both. You know, like you do hands, I do feet, and so on.”

Chell thought about it for a minute. “You say Ginger tied you up.” Paula said yes. “You’ve never got to tie her up in return?” Paula said no, but reminded her that the whole idea was for Chell to tie up Ginger. “Okay, good enough,” Chell said like she had made up her mind. “Tell you what. I’ll tie up Ginger, and you can play Jimmy Housely and tie up Lissy.” Paula looked at her strangely.

“My bratty neighbors,” I explained to her. “Jimmy always wanted to play tie-up games with me. He always caught me, and Joey never caught ‘Ren until after…well…after that whole thing with Professor Newland.” I still hate even thinking about that, when that lunatic kidnapped ‘Ren to turn her into his daughter’s dead little sister. I don’t care that ‘Ren’s over it—maybe I’m not! I am entitled to love my kid sister, you know! “Anyway, Jimmy Housely tied me up so many times I can’t even count them. That’s what Chell means.”

“Leslie Morgan’s ex,” Paula said sourly. I remembered it was a particularly nasty break-up, mostly because Jimmy—big surprise!—couldn’t help but be an asshole about Kellie Kirk even when he knew what Leslie felt about her. It was probably the first backbone Pinky Morgan has ever shown in her life, and all I can say is that Jimmy deserved it! “He’s not exactly my favorite person.” Well, remember that Jimmy couldn’t stop saying nasty stuff about Kellie, and Paula was Kellie’s best friend, so that’s understandable. But then she smiled a little. “How about I take ‘Ren’s place instead and pay you back for all the times you tied her up? And yes, she’s told us about it!” God, it’s not like I’ve done it lately—it was when we were both kids!

Now this was really weird—my first night in Snoop Towers, and here I was naked in my bedroom with Ginger O’Day, getting tied up by Paula Ryan! What was that I was saying about a kinky Wonderland?

Dear Sally,

I’m really very glad to have Felicity living with us here at Snoop Towers, and the way we talked about everything afterwards is a big reason why. She’s a counseling major, as you know, so it’s natural for her to talk through difficult or strange things. And I have to admit that even after everything I’d been through with Ginger and Richie, tonight was about as strange as anything I’ve ever been involved with!

I must say I hadn’t expected to be tying up a naked Felicity Mabrey that night in her and Ginger’s bedroom, but after my experiences with Ginger, I can’t say I was entirely surprised. Yes, it was rather surprising how enthusiastic she was about sharing her room with Ginger after seeing all of Ginger’s BDSM materials, but Felicity herself is rather offbeat herself, so it wasn’t as shocking as it might have been if it had been most other people. No, Sally, the strange thing to me was how I reacted and felt! It’s left me asking very inconvenient questions about myself, and that’s where Felicity has come in very handy!

At that moment, Felicity was rather embarrassed, I’d say. “Do I at least get my fuzzy handcuffs?” she asked like she was trying to ease her own nerves. I turned to Chelsea, who shook her head.

“Sorry, Lissy, you were too enthusiastic about them!” she said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re supposed to be tied up, not cuffed up! Paula’s right—let’s see if you and Ginger can help each other get loose!” She picked out some rope and handed it to me. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked me, and I had to smile. If I could tie up Richie as well as I did, I surely could tie Felicity up nicely!

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “You take care of Ginger, and I’ll handle Felicity.” I turned toward her. I was going to tell her to put her hands behind her back, but I was struck by a sudden thought. I went over to Ginger’s drawers, where I knew a supply of bandannas were ready, and when I saw a black one on top, I knew it was a good idea! “First things first, Felicity,” I said as I folded over the corners of the bandanna into a nice blindfold. “If you can’t see what’s happening…well, you’ll be surprised!” I remembered what I had felt when Ginger had first blindfolded me before, and all of a sudden it was important to me that Felicity know that same feeling.

“I bet I will!” Felicity said, again with that gallows-humor note in her voice, covering herself a bit with her hands as I approached with her blindfold in hand.

“Just think of it as another exercise in trust,” I said. “You’re trusting me to not harm you while you can’t see me. Besides, you’re not as self-conscious about being naked when you can’t see anyone looking at you. And it’s wonderful for the imagination!”

“I better not end up on YouTube!” she said in that natural Mabrey ironic tone, lowering herself a little so I could easily reach her face. I was gentle as I tied the blindfold over her eyes, and made sure to ask her if it was too tight when I knotted it off. She assured me she was fine, and I adjusted the blindfold a little to make sure she could see nothing at all. And this was where it began to get strange for me, Sally; imagining what Felicity was feeling as I took away her sight started to excite me! It was as if knowing what she was enduring was arousing to me! I wasn’t sure what to make of that!

Anyhow, Sally, Felicity immediately showed me how she really felt about the game—by immediately straightening herself and clasping her hands behind her back! “Well, I guess it’s 9 ½ Weeks time,” she said, almost with a laugh. “Do I at least get fed strawberries?”

“The only thing you’re gonna get fed is a gag!” Chelsea answered for me, and we all laughed! Chelsea was really starting to get into the whole thing! “Which…so, what do you think, Paula? Which one should get which gag?”

“That’s up to you,” I said as I picked out a rope to tie Felicity’s hands with and trying to sort through the odd feelings I was experiencing. I’m very sure I’m very heterosexual, Sally, but the odd excitement I was feeling at that moment made me doubt that at the time! “There are plenty to choose from!”

“I could just be very very quiet!” Felicity answered, and I suspected that she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of being gagged.

“Chelsea said you get gagged,” I said, getting into the spirit of the game, “so you get gagged! And just to make sure you can’t cause any trouble…” I’d debated with myself how I was going to tie her hands. There were several options, but the most likely were crossing her wrists over each other, or tying them together palm-to-palm. One other way I’d seen was to tie her hands with their backs to each other and her palms turned outward, which would seem to make it difficult for her for get at the knots, or a rather painful-looking way I’d found called the reverse-prayer style, in which her arms would be folded upwards behind her back, and her hands tied palm-to-palm as if in prayer, but held up behind her back rather than in front. I decided that that style would be too painful to try on her, especially for her first time playing tie-up in Snoop Towers, and the chance that at some point she might be laid on her back settled me on simply crossing her wrists, which is easier to lie on if you’re laid supine. Therefore, I crossed her wrists in the small of her back and wrapped two loops of rope above where her wrists were crossed. “I’ll try to not make it too tight,” I said as I started, “but I’m going to make sure you can’t get yourself untied. At least without help.”

“Well, you might be surprised what I can get out of,” Felicity replied as I took the rope and made two more loops on that wrist below where they crossed, the rope passed over her other the other wrist to pin it in place. “I almost always got loose whenever that creep Jimmy tied me up.”

“Except for that one time,” Chelsea said, “when we were trying to figure out who tied up the Jensen sisters up at the playground. It was hilarious seeing you actually asking Jimmy to hogtie you!”

“Well, we got our evidence, didn’t we?” Felicity answered. Now I wrapped two loops on the other wrist, below the crossing, which was finally starting to secure Felicity’s wrists behind her. “We proved that it was those two creeps who tied up Devan and Taylor!”

“Maybe we should have just left Devan like she was!” Chelsea said, and I remembered that her relationship with Devan Jensen was a bit uncomfortable. Chelsea and Richie had dated for a little while well back in middle school, but they didn’t work out as a couple as well as they worked out as simple friends, and it was shortly after that that Richie started seeing Devan. Which lasted until they broke up and he started dating me. Like I said, complicated, but I decided to be magnanimous.

“You couldn’t have done that,” I said as I passed the rope back over her wrists to put the last loops on her second wrist above the cross, then tie it off. “Especially to Taylor. She never hurt anyone.” It’s strange to think that Taylor, who back then was so small and slight, is now so tall and beautiful; if she’s not six feet tall by now, she surely will be soon! And she’s still barely in high school! “Well now, Felicity,” I said as I knotted off her hands rope, “is it too tight?” She shook her head. “Then see if you can get loose.” She immediately struggled, twisting and wriggling her wrists against her ropes, but I was gratified to see that they held perfectly, leaving her hands still securely bound. “I think you can’t.”

“Not right now,” she replied with a trace of defiance in her voice, “but give me time. I’m good at untying myself!”

“Not before you get your gag!” Chelsea said, busily tying Ginger’s hands, but with her palms out behind her back, and with extra rope handy I could only imagine she intended to use on Ginger’s elbows. Chelsea was going to be very stringent on Ginger! “So we have to decide, Corpse Bride—which one gets which gag? We have all sorts of choices here!” It was so hard to choose, Sally!

And Ginger didn’t make it any easier! “If you dig down a little deeper,” she said while Chelsea tied her wrists, with Ginger’s shoulders pulled back tautly and her back arched backwards, “there are a bunch of other gags in there. I have a panel gag, an inflatable, a full-face harness ballgag, a bit gag, a”—

“Just how many gags do you own?” Chelsea asked, rather amazed at the list of gags Ginger owned. I was a little surprised myself, at least in an unsurprised way.

“Enough,” Ginger said with a smile as Chelsea knotted off her wrists and picked up the rope to tie her elbows. “And you’re welcome to blindfold me too,” she added in a way that made fairly clear that she wanted blindfolded. She glanced back at Chelsea getting ready to tie her elbows, and I saw a spasm of nervousness cross her face.

“Here, let me do her elbows,” I said, leaving Felicity standing where I left her, still twisting her bound wrists. “Ginger showed me a way to do it that doesn’t hurt.” Chelsea looked at me strangely. “It really works.”

“Okay, so everyone in this whole house is a bondage freak except me,” Chelsea said.

“Give us time!” Ginger said, and strangely enough, we all laughed! Even Felicity.
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby Zaphod » Mon Dec 23, 2013 2:06 pm

Aw, too bad, Felicity. You shouldn't have let them know about how much you wanted the fuzzy handcuffs. :)

I get the feeling that Felicity and Ginger won't be the only ones tied up by the end of the night, but I wonder whether it'll end up with Chelsea tying up Paula to complete the group or whether she'll get to discover what it's like to end up on the other end of this tie-up game.

Re: My Dear Sally Diary: University Days

Postby jc27 » Sun Dec 29, 2013 2:07 am

so what gag do the girls get each? will ginger get something :bondage1: or something simple? :gag:

i beg to differ, i think chelsea and paula will end up on the receiving end on another day, as this will be lesson for chelsea's trust issues while working on ginger! whereas maybe... more interesting stories of their fetishies/preferences will be revealed in the midst of their session? :lol: especially ginger, when she owns so much!