Trystl

Author's Note: This story contains bondage, some of it fairly explicit. However, there’s also a lot of story here. And much of the more erotic material comes somewhat later in the story. For example, chapter one doesn’t contain any sex or bondage… although there are hints of some of the things to come. Consider your self warned. This story is also fairly long… 21 chapters; and it is complete, but I will be submitting it a few chapters at a time. This will allow me to edit the chapters as I go… which, in addition to catching a few spelling/grammar errors, will allow me to recall which story codes are appropriate. I will include all the codes I can think of that I’m sure fit for the story as a whole, but may add others as I notice them. Some of these tags may be fairly minimal. For instance, in chapter one there’s a reference to incestual activity, but no actual scenes where incest occurs. Not sure if it occurs later in the story, I’ll have to wait until I edit to be sure. ...

Author's Note: You can see a version of the story with illustrations at DeviantArt.com. Just search for Trystl, and it should come up. This is a story in the Hunting Season Universe, although (as promised) it’s not set on Renaldo’s Island, and the tone/mood is far different from Fanni’s story. 1 - Display Case The display case. I hate it. I hate the long hours of forced standing. I hate the cute little outfit they force me into. I hate the people who come to gawk at me. Most of all, I hate those who think they have a right to put me in here, trapped behind a cage of glass, like some animal in a zoo. Only zoo animals are, at least, allowed to pace back and forth. I’m forced to stand in agony, unable to move. ...

1 - Body in the Alcove “Holy shit! Is it real?” “Looks pretty damned real.” Fanni had to agree. She was looking into a large glass box, sitting on a pedestal. It looked like the typical, free-standing museum case but she had the feeling its purpose had more in common with a trophy case, for inside it was what appeared to be the life-like body of a dead woman. She was floating in some kind of clear liquid, presumably a preservative of some kind; and there was something about the body that didn’t look quite real. Perhaps it was just the body’s unnatural stillness, for Fanni had seen stuffed animals that gave her the same sort of feeling. Or perhaps it was looking at flesh and hair through the glass and liquid. If it was an actual dead woman, the body had been perfectly preserved. When she looked closely Fanny couldn’t see any wrinkles on the woman’s face, but she could see tiny hairs on her body. Her pubic mound had been shaven, and her arms and legs had been cut off. Stooping low to look at the end of the stump, Fanny could see the striations of bone, muscle and skin. Again, it didn’t quite look real, but if this was some kind of bizarre statue, the artist had done a remarkable job and paid incredible attention to detail. ...

Author's Note: I’ve made a few somewhat major adjustments to the story. Readers of the previous version mentioned that during the last few chapters it started to become a little difficult to tell who was who, with all the different characters inhabiting different bodies… so I tried to edit with that in mind. I also extended the “bondage scene” where I accidentally forgot to finish the scene before loading it last time. That will provide the breath play that a commenter noted wasn’t in the story last time. It’s in there now. I also made some revisions to the characters personalities and background. Hope old readers (if there are any) will enjoy the changes. And new readers won’t have to deal with the errors. ...

Author's Note: This is the first part in a story of mistaken identities that (at first) will be a little light on the bondage; while it has a distinctly bondage theme, there will be very few actual bondage scenes for the first dozen or so pages. Each part of the story will be told from a different person’s POV and reveal a little more of the plot, while also retelling certain parts from another perspective. ...

Author's Note: I’m on Deviant Art now, for anyone who wants to check me out over there. I think it’s deviantart.com. Just search for Trystl and I should come up. Aside from a few stories that aren’t posted here, I’ve also got some art to go with some of the stories… and a long list of nice favorite pix you might like. So check it out. 1 Eddy liked his job. He was the night security guard for Punicorp, “Pronounced pewn·ah·corp; not poon·ee·corp,” as his boss used to always tell him. There were other guards, stationed at other entrances, but he’d been with the company long enough that he’d secured the coveted front desk job, which meant that he didn’t have to do hourly rounds. His job was to sit at his desk alone, watching the empty rooms on the monitors and coordinating any issues with the other guards at their various stations. ...

Author's Note: This story was based on three pix from various artists at DA. Since then, I’ve recreated those images myself, using 3D art. These image can be found at Deviant Art, under the name TrystlsInk. My Trystl page has been permanently banned. The Visionsofdarkness website may also have a copy. Chapter 1 - The Perfect Boss I was a real person once, with a life that was (at least partially) my own. ...

First Try Where do I begin? What do you say when someone you’ve loved your entire life does something like this? It’s crazy and mean and spiteful! I can’t believe she… I’m rambling, but… have to start somewhere. I only have so much time to get this done. I wish I could erase but I can’t. I wasn’t given an eraser. She told me not to cross anything out. I guess that’s part of the plan. I don’t know why. I wasn’t given much instruction. All I know is that I have to write this story about my life… and about my sister. ...

Author's Note: Normally, SNUFF is one of those topics that I don’t care for reading. But ironically, this is the second story with that tag that I’ve posted on this site. “Playing Games” (as those who’ve read the story know) doesn’t actually end in death. I won’t give away the ending of this story, however, I think (like the other) it deal with the topic from an unusual POV. Personally, I don’t particularly understand the fascination with snuff–which is healthy. lol. But even as a fantasy, I just don’t get it. For me, it just seems like such a waste. To me, the point of kidnapping and torturing a woman would seem to be the gratification of watching her suffer. Obviously, that’s not something I would do myself, but I can at least understand a motivation. But if you’re going to kill her, you’re removing your ability to do that more in the future. That’s sort of like the Ebola virus that kills its victims so rapidly they often don’t have time to spread the disease, which causes the outbreak to falter and not spread very far. In much the same way, “snuff” just seems like fantasy suicide to me. ...

Author's Note: This story is written in 1st person, so the dominant could easily be any sex. But I have selected the F-f tag because the idea for the story was inspired by a work of art by Gnarly Thotep, which depicts two women. One has a noose around her neck, arms bound behind her back and one leg tied up in the air. The other woman is lifting a second rope and looks to be planning to raise the leg that’s still on the round so the woman is forced to hang from her neck. ...