Tuesday, Ch. 1

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Chapter the First

In which the principal players are introduced….

Tuesday was always a strange day for me; I don’t know why, but I could always count on the bizarre, unusual, or unpleasant to make an appearance on that day of the week. This week was no exception. It began ordinarily enough, with me waiting at the corner for my bus and chatting with the few neighborhood friends I had. Tuesdays weren’t the only thing strange about me; I had something of a reputation as a geek with my fondness for precise language and strong interest in math and science.

It was when I first hopped onto the bus and sat next to Heather that I felt the first twinge of weird, but I didn’t know why, so I just chalked it up to paranoia and started a conversation with Heather, whose mode of dress today was somewhere between girl-next-door and Goth Princess. She was wearing a bright pink Hello Kitty baby tee and a black vinyl skirt with her favorite combat boots on. Her make-up was tasteful and subdued, except for this bright coral pink lip-gloss and the really dark eyeliner. She could get away with that; she had a heart-shaped face and cut her honey gold hair into a pageboy bob that framed her features nicely.

Lucky her, she could tan, too, and did so. Her only flaw, if you could call it that, was her nose; it was a largish Roman nose that I thought looked charming there. She wished she had a cute little button one like Stephanie, though.

I noticed she was talking slowly and carefully, and worked her jaw from side to side a few times every once in a while. I had planned on mentioning the pillow crease she had on her face when a sudden image flashed through my mind: Heather’s mouth filled with a big red ball, and a network of straps around her head to hold it in place. The creases I noticed could have been made by such a “head harness” and that would also explain the trouble she was having with her jaw. Just to be sure, I checked her wrists. Sure enough, fading rope marks were visible on her wrists and elbows.

*Tuesday*, I thought, *You just topped yourself.* What I said, though, was: “So, Heather, care to tell me who you’ve been playing bondage games with?” I gave her a lazy smile to go with it, so she knew I wasn’t being mean.

“Jesus, Rachel, announce it to the whole bus whydoncha?” She was blushing. “What gave it away?”

I held up her wrist. “These, for one, and the way you’re talking and moving your jaw, like it’s been stretched open for a while. You’ve also got a strap mark on your face.”

“Shit!” She was in her purse and checking herself out with a small mirror. She looked at me for a minute. “You’d have to be pretty sharp to notice something like this, or have some experience with it. So which is it?”

“I’d lean toward sharp if I were you. Outside of fantasy, I’ve never been tied up or tied anyone up before. And Tuesday has a habit of being strange for me so I’m always on the lookout for the unusual. You never answered my question, though; who?”

The blush was back now. “Outside of fantasy, huh? And you better not tell a single person about this, but it was Mom.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from blurting out. She’d definitely floored me with that one. *Tuesday, I hope you’re through with me for a while….*

“She found those porn mags I’d swiped from Kevin and wanted to know why I was looking at naked girls. I tried explaining it to her, and I think she finally got it, and then she looked at me funny and asked about the bondage mag that was in the pile. She said she knew it was my favorite because it looked more worn than the others, even the older mags. She asked me if I was fantasizing about tying someone up or being tied up myself. I told her it was kind of both, and she just grinned and told me my fantasy was about to come true, if I wanted it. I said sure, then she tied me up for the night.” She closed her eyes and shivered. Her nipples popped up and she smiled. “It was so cool!” She stopped and gave me one of *those* looks. Y’know, the kind a guy gives you when he’s mentally undressing you and really likes what he sees? “Wanna try it?”

“Me?” I squeaked. “Uhm, I don’t er,” I was the one blushing now.

“C’mon, Rache,” She said, with a lopsided smirk, “You might not be sure about it, but your nipples are as hard as mine. You don’t have to answer right now. You’ve got till the end of the day to think about it.”

And think I did. I was so distracted by thoughts of Heather, wanting to tie me up, and the look she gave me, that the day passed in a blur, except for lunchtime. I got into the bottleneck that passed for a lunch line and tried to ignore all the jostling around until I felt a hand on my butt, squeezing it gently, purposefully.

“Thought about it ümraniye escort yet?” Heather asked, her breath warm on my neck and her lips nearly brushing my ear. She was taking advantage of the crowd to feel me up, and rub against me. *I’ll get you for this, Tuesday,* I thought, *turning my best friend into a bondage lesbian is going too far!*

“I’ve thought of little else,” I replied truthfully, “and the answer is, yes.”

“Great! You’re going to love it!” Her hands had moved from my hips to my breasts and she squeezed them while she nibbled my earlobe. My knees turned to jelly as my stomach did little flip-flops and the world dropped away for a few seconds.

“Holy shit! Rachel and Heather are lezzies!” That was Stephanie, the girls’ soccer team captain. Heather was one of her teammates. “Do I need to tell everyone to watch it in the locker room with you?” She was smirking, but her tone wasn’t mean.

“Nah, I got all the girl I’ll ever want right here.” Heather squeezed my breasts again.

“What about you Rache? Does the lacrosse team need protection from you?”

“No. I… Uhm…” I was embarrassed so badly that I couldn’t speak. “Oh, god, Heather! We’re stereotypes! Jock Dykes!”

Heather and Steph both cringed at that one.

“Jeez, Rache, there are some straight girls on the team.” That was Lisa, my own team captain and fellow offense woman.

“Name two.” Steph jumped in, still smirking.

“Karen Rogers and Jessica Klein.”

“Karen’s already tried to get into Jennie’s panties twice now, and Jessica…..”

“What about her?”

“Well… you were right about her. Kelly Stern made a pass at her last week and got told off.”

“Great! What is this, an ‘outing’ party? The lunch mob is *not* the place to have this discussion. And what about you two? Which side of the fence are you on?” That was Heather.

Steph and Lisa looked at each other. As one, they both said, “We’re bi.”

“But I mostly like guys.” Lisa added

“Tuesday.” I muttered, face in hands as the three of them burst out laughing.

“Seriously, who else can we trust? I don’t want to get beat up just for wanting Rachel.”

“The teams. They’re mostly straight, but very understanding. Kidding aside, I think we four are the only ones even interested in other girls. But the crew will definitely back you up if there’s trouble.”

“That’s a relief. I was afraid they’d be the worst thing we’d face.”

“You’ve thought this out quite a bit haven’t you? How long have you been planning to seduce me?” Embarrassment had faded leaving a little shame and anger in its wake. My stomach still fluttered, but the world was crystal clear and cut out in laser precision.

Heather glanced at her watch. “About four hours now. And believe me, that’s a lot of time to think. Especially in the homophobic culture we’ve got here.”

“That’s the longest polysyllable I’ve heard out of you in months.”

“Can’t keep being the stereotypical dumb jock, can I?”

The rest of the day was a blur until I remembered our practice schedule had us working out for a couple hours after school. Getting changed in the locker room was a new ordeal for me as I tried to figure out what was polite for me and when they’d start to think I might be checking them out, then I began to wonder if I *was* checking them out. Am I queer? If so, how queer am I? I remembered Heather’s lips and teeth on my earlobe and shivered, feeling a twinge from my crotch as I did. I was queer, all right, but did I still like guys?

“Snap out of it, Silverman!” Coach Andrews was in the locker room now, rousting the stragglers from the locker room. “Everyone else is on the field!”

“Right, Coach! Sorry!”

* * * *

Lisa and I were driving down opposite sides of the field, and I had the ball. Lisa yelled, “Now!” And I cut across field, still closing on the goal. My eyes locked with Missy’s as she tried to figure where I was going to put the ball. She was the best goalie I’d ever faced, and I was glad that she was on my team. Kate whacked my stick pretty good, almost dislodging the ball as I reared back to avoid plowing her into the field. I used the motion to flip the ball to Lisa, who ripped it right past Kate and straight into Missy. She’d seen the ball coming and did the only thing she could think of to keep it out of the goal: she jumped in the way. The ball smacked her right in the ribs under her left arm; she’d been twisting, trying to take the blow on her back. As it was, she hit the ground gasping for air and Coach A. blew her whistle.

“Missy? You okay?”

“Yes. Just…. winded. Jesus, you can whip a ball, Lisa,”

“Well, on that note, team, practice is over. Get some ice on that, Missy, or it’ll bruise something pendik escort fierce.” Coach A. announced. Then she looked at Lisa and me. “Nice stunt. Work on it a little more and we’ll wreck Lockport next week. Instead of wrecking our star goalie, huh?”

Lisa and I both had the good graces to blush at the needling, and Missy just grinned at us. “It’s all right, Ms. A.,” she said, “These two have been trying to get one past me for months now, and if they can’t do it…”

“Lockport is toast!” I blurted. Then laughed.

“Hit the showers, girls, or you’ll miss the late bus.” That was Coach A.

“Okay, coach,”

It only took a few minutes of the stinging needles of hot water to relax me. I shook out of it when I remembered Heather was waiting for me. My tummy did a few flops and my nipples and pussy both reminded me just how much I needed to try this.

“Uh-Oh. Rachel’s thinking about Heather again….”

“Jesus, Lisa, what if someone heard you?”

“Someone did.” That was Missy; winding an ace bandage around her ribs and the cold pack she’d raided from the coach’s fridge. “So, you’re the one. I heard we’d been infiltrated….” She burst out laughing. “You should see your face! Oh, god, laughing hurts…” Missy looked at me. “Calm down. Statistically, at least one of the team had to be gay, and if I got the figures right, there should be at least five who are bi or latent. Girls are a little more likely to be homosexually oriented than boys are.”

“Oh, god, she’s a math whiz. No wonder we can’t get a ball past her. She’s probably done all the velocity equations in her head before we even let the ball go!” Lisa lamented.

“Where’d you get your information on lesbian statistics?” I was curious.

“My mom. I wouldn’t tell anyone else this, but I can trust you two. Mom is as queer as a three-dollar-bill. She collected all the information she could for me when I hit puberty. She said she didn’t want me making the same mistakes she did, convincing herself she was straight for the first ten years of my life, then suddenly discovering why everything seemed wrong when she kissed another woman for the first time. She told me not to assume I was a lesbian just because she was, but she encouraged me to experiment to find out just what I am.”


“What was that, Rachel?”

I sighed. “Tuesday is the day of the week when anything weird that can happen, does happen. Today everyone’s dumping their sexual secrets on me, and finding out mine almost before I do. Look, I gotta go.”

“Hot date tonight?” Lisa was smiling.

“Now that you mention it, Heather’s going to tie me up..” I left them standing there looking a little stunned.

I got out to the parking lot to find Heather and her mom waiting for me. I’ve described Heather, so now I’ll do the same for her mom. She’s a tall woman (Six feet in sneakers), and the best word to describe her figure is buxom. She’s not small in any of her dimensions, but she’s not fat, either. Just a little soft padding here and there. Her hair is a bright strawberry blonde, and her eyes are ice blue, kind of like that actress, whats her name? Oh yeah. Meg Foster. Her face has a few “smile lines” and the corners of her eyes are crinkled. I hope I look that good when I turn forty. Heather scooped me into her arms and was moving in to kiss me when her mom cleared her throat.

“Hrmph! Too public for that, young ladies,”

“Agreed!” I said, looking at Heather. “What’s gotten into you, girl?”

“It’s a surprise. Mom won’t even tell me, but I’m so excited…”

“How you doing, Mrs. Duncan?”

“Fine, and please, from now on, call me Colleen. Mrs. Duncan makes me feel… Old.” She shuddered. “Into the car, girls, we have a few stops to make.”

As soon as we were in the back seat, Heather was feeling me up and kissing me like crazy, all over my face and neck, finally landing on my mouth. How can I describe the feeling of the first girl’s lips brushing my own, her tongue pressing forward, seeking admittance into my mouth? Lightning raced from that point of contact into my already turgid nipples and pussy, making me feel like my whole body was a sex organ. The smell of her hair (peach shampoo) and taste of her mouth (Spearmint gum) were my whole world now. I sighed and pressed closer against her, suddenly realizing that the low moans I heard were coming from me.

“Told you she was hot for it, mom,” Heather gasped as she broke the kiss. We were already on the road and moving into the seedier part of the downtown area; lots of red brick everywhere, used for buildings and sidewalks. Ours isn’t a tall city, a pair of forty story buildings at the heart of downtown being the tallest structures, but I felt the press of these brick bostancı escort edifices strongly. We found a parking meter, and Mrs….. er, Colleen, fed the meter with some change and led us into the basement area of a nearby building. Inside was a well lit and well organized boutique of sorts, evidently catering to a latex and bondage crowd. Lots of shiny rubber in all kinds of colors and clothing designs, and all kinds of restraints. I felt another twinge of weird when I spotted the mannequins on a large pedestal in the center of the room, displaying the clothing in the department and also demonstrating the use of some of the more… unusual restraints. It wasn’t until I got close to them that I realized what was weird about them. They were people! I’d seen “live mannequins” in a few storefronts before, showing off wedding dresses and the like, but this was my first exposure to them up close and personal, as it were. This lot didn’t have to worry much about holding their poses, though; the restraints did that part for them. The smell of warm rubber and aroused woman hit me like a wall as I approached and examined them. One beautiful blonde was shackled to a *very* versatile framework that, right now, held her bent at the waist with her wrists locked together and to her neck by a two foot bar of steel, and her ankles locked to the back supports of the framework. Her waist was strapped down to a bar that went form her waist to her throat and held her down in a perfect position for spanking… or fucking. She was totally vulnerable to both. Her clothing consisted of a black rubber corset with red trim that did nothing to hide her breasts, but rather offered them on a shelf. Tight rubber panties showed that there were plugs in both her vagina and rectum, and she was wearing transparent latex gloves and stockings, with a pair of 5″ heels in a slutty strappy style. Her gag mirrored the transparent theme, clearly showing the soft, pliable greyish bag that filled her mouth, her lips pressed tight by the clear cover. Her eyes were a little glazed, and she was moaning quietly. I wondered at this, till I heard the soft hum coming from her panties.

“I like the gag.” I said as Colleen walked up to me with a clerk in tow. The clerk was dressed like the woman I had been staring at, except the corset trim was blue, and her latex hood covered any gag she might be wearing. I only identified her as a clerk by the “Hi! i’m amy!” written on her left breast in dark red lipstick. I noted the lower case in her name and figured it was a mark of submissive status.

“amy, here, will measure you. We’re here for custom restraints and costumes. While she’s getting your measurements, I’ll go pick up those gags.” Colleen traced the outline of the blonde’s lips behind the clear plastic (or rubber?). “I like them too.”

Amy led us into a fitting room and gestured at us. Figuring this out quickly, I stripped down to my panties. amy rolled her eyes and pointed at them. I stepped out of my panties and added them to the pile on the chair. Heather was already nude, and amy was taking all kind of measurements, including a few I thought were *very* personal, then they got downright invasive, shoving a balloon up her pussy and inflating it until Heather yelped. amy repeated the process in Heather’s backdoor, and then it was my turn. I was fine until she started putting that balloon in my bum, then I started sobbing. I was scared silly for the first time since I stripped. Heather was there, holding me and comforting me, telling me over and over that it would be all right. The balloon was firmly seated in my tail now, and the slow inflation of it relaxed my panicked mind, then it was huge, way too big for my poor little rectum, then I cried out as I felt something move inside me. amy removed the balloon and took its length and circumference measurements, then disposed of it. I couldn’t believe that anything that big had been inside me anywhere. At a guess, it was nine inches long, and three inches thick! We were directed to dress again, and amy led us out to the sales floor again. amy then went over to the counter and handed a slip of paper to another clerk, who called us over.

“You’re in luck, Mrs. Duncan,” he said, “we have everything you requested in their sizes already, even…” His eyes widened. “That’s a *butt plug*?!” amy nodded, then pointed at me. “Well, we have *almost* everything in their sizes on hand. We can make the plug by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Make it?! *Gevalt*, am I that weird? A custom butt plug has to be made for me?”

The clerk looked at me. “Frankly, yes. An anal virgin being able to take something of that size is unusual to say the least. However, it should be a point of pride to you, not cause to feel like a freak or weirdo. Especially if you enjoy anal stimulation.” amy nodded vigorously along with this.

“Nine by Three?! Jayzis, girl,” Colleen announced, reading the paper. “Damn right that’s something to be proud of.” To the clerk she said, “Make it a torpedo style.”

To Be Continued…

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