Castle Bond – Part 2





Day 2


I was woken suddenly by both the burst of sunlight and a hand shaking me.


"Hey wake up, Freyja," it was my dad. "Time to rise; we've lots to cover today."


I instinctively tried to say "morning" but it came out as "mmrning". It was then I saw the state I was in and remembered where I was. But soon he undid my bindings and tape gag, giving me a sip from a bottle with a straw as I sat up.


"You've less than ten minutes to the shower and out. Go!" It was like camp all over again and I did my best to scrub myself and stretch my limbs since I wouldn't have the chance to do so for the rest of the day. Once I was out, I had barely changed back to my PJs and a bra when dad returned. Obediently, I accepted the cloth wrist bindings and cleave gag. The rest of the family was in the common dining area with mummy in her dressing gown and Jo opposite her. My brother was bending down on her chair when my dad cleared his throat. "Not now."


"But dad..."


"I said 'not now'. Help Freyja sit." I was glad dad didn't want our ankles bound so early in the morning. With our gags lowered, it was spoon feeding time again. Dad had ordered a classic full English which was alright for me - but not so good when my brother literally shoved the food in my mouth and got the sauce and butter again on my chin. "Jonathan..." Dad scolded.


Well, it wasn't much better with the tea. First, my brother added too little milk and being told not to speak, it was hard to give corrections. Second, he nearly splashed some of the hot drink on my lips. I gave up and gestured to the juice. Finally, another meal without the ability to use my hands was over. But not time to relax.


"They said nothing special for the sessions, but girls should ideally be in skirts or dresses." Jo gave a dejected look; she's not the skirt or dress type. "Weather is much warmer today so you can shed the hosiery. Get changed."


I selected a thicker strapped cyan blue dress with the same bra as yesterday and new black knickers. Once I was dressed, it was time for the rope for my wrists bindings, this time more secure. The cleave gag seemed thicker or was it my brother's evil plan for me?


Jo, mum and me were made to sit on floor while our ankles were given a "leg-iron" type rope binding. "Ok," dad said, re-checking mum's bonds. "I'll be heading back down to pick up Avena, Imogen, Martyn and Sayle. Jonathan," he turned to my brother. "Watch over all. And that's it. Not additional binding, no additional gags, no play, you got it?"




"Yes what?"


"Yes dad."


“I hope you mean that,” I thought and luckily he did. Around fifteen minutes later, the door opened to reveal my brother-in-law, Martyn, and my other sisters. Avena was in an ankle length skirt with black ropes circling her lower torso and her wrists behind her back. Her cleave gag was black as well.


Imogen, my red-haired sister, was in a red tube top with a rather short jeans skirt. She was bound and gagged similarly but with coarse brown rope. Sayle, the married girl, was also bound and gagged in the same way, wearing a knee length translucent dress. All girls were brought down to the floor near us but Imogen emitted a "omw!" as Jon brought her down.


Dad gave him another verbal reprimand and Imogen quickly crossed her legs lest there be an upskirt. "Alright, welcome all. As you know, despite our own history and experience, we still have to attend the session which will teach us everything from basic ties to advance… well, bondage.


“But as a family, we still have some major rules of our own for these few weeks of stay. One, all ladies will still be restrained and gagged in their rooms unless scenarios or orders are changed.


“Two, no one is to wonder off by themselves, boy or girl. All girls must be accompanied by one of us guys at all times, unless we formally allow other men to escort you.


“Three, we will still give toilet breaks despite the daily restraining and gagging. If you need to go urgently, say "mmmph, mmmph" loudly. Safe word for removal of restraint is "mmm" for restraint and "mmpph" with a shake for your gag. Other rules will be what they dictate and what happens as well go along. Got it?"


We girls nodded. "Ok, Despite the uneven ratio, here's how it goes. I'll take Donna (that's my mother) and Imogen. Jonathan, you take Freyja and Jocasta. Martyn, Sayle and Avena. Let's go." Jo's ankle bonds were taken off and my brother dusted her black skirt. Then it was my turn with his right arm holding me and Jo on his left.


Even though I had chosen flat heeled shoes, it still wasn't easy balancing myself. Luckily, we were the only ones in the lift--perks of such a large family. Downstairs, couples and families were all heading to the conference room again, with daughters, mothers and girlfriends all bound and gagged in various fashions. Dad presented a card to the guard at the door when I spied two different lines. "Ladies this way, men that way," the guard waved.


"But, we're a family," my dad protested.


"This is how it will be for the session. Don't worry, you'll see each other after."


Wishing us 'bye' and 'good luck' they joined the male queue while other marshals guided us ladies. One of them clipped tags on our left breast area. "You'll see why," he said as he ushered us in. 


All the ladies were hustled to one corner and then men directly opposite them.


"Alright, silence!" Some six-foot tall guy in faded jeans and a checked shirt said. "It's quite simple. You all have number tags but you girls are well silenced. Each guy will step forward call out their number and the girl with the corresponding number will pair with him. Got it? Go!"


It was a messy work of calling and a guy shorter than my 1.75m height was paired with me. "Hi, I'm Carter," he said, holding out his hand then realising the silliness, withdrew it.


"Okay, pairs, step forward." The session was about to start.







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