Warning: This story features bondage.

Context: This is a short story written for Day 4 of Kinktober 2025 using the prompt words Unlucky / Spreader.

“1 and 2 and. Step, turn, step, turn. 3 and 4 and. Turn, drop, stret-... Oh come on Nina!”

I collapsed forwards onto the smooth wooden floor, my legs splayed out at an awkward angle. Una groaned in frustration as she rose gracefully out of her perfect 180-degree splits pose, as did Keri.

“Have you been doing the stretching exercises three times a day like I told you? You should be able to hold it for longer than two seconds by now!”

She muted the small speakers playing the dance backing track by the mirror wall. I pulled myself up into a sitting pose, massaging my sore thighs.

“Of course I’ve been doing them!”

I had not been doing them.

The three of us were a dance troupe dubbed The Va Va Vooms, founded and managed by Una. She’d choreographed an ambitious new dance routine, and meeting her standards was a challenge, to say the least.

Halfway through the routine, the trio dropped to the floor and did the splits, then while maintaining that pose, stretched over to and touched the left foot, then the right. I’d failed the move every time, either not flattening fully or falling over.

Una checked the time and sighed. “Only fifteen minutes left in our booking.”

We’d rented out a local multi-purpose practice room. It was popular with dance groups thanks to the full-wall mirror, but it supported all manner of activities. Fitness workouts, martial arts, band practices. A small storage room housed free equipment that renters could avail of. The venue was always in high demand.

“No point doing the whole thing again. Nina, we’re focusing on you!”

“Just me?”

“Yes. On the floor.”

I reluctantly lowered myself, my legs pointing out to my left and right. I tugged the bottom of my form-fitting leotard which threatened to slip out of place.

“Get lower. Touch that bubble butt to the ground!”

I felt the strain in my calves as they widened, eventually achieving a straight flat line. I tried stretching towards my left foot, but the closer I got, the more my overall form buckled in.

“Close your eyes and stretch for 20 seconds.”

“Why...”

“So you focus. Close ‘em!”

I rolled my eyes then closed them. I stretched as best I could...

vwhp! sschp!

“Huh? What?”

My eyes snapped open. A long solid pole was lying on the ground immediately in front of me. It was dark blue, about an inch in diameter, probably PVC, slightly longer than the combined length of my stretched legs. And at each far end, there was a short leather strap threaded through a hole in the pole and around my ankles.

Una was kneeling beside one end, Keri crouching by the other. They’d bound my stretched feet to the pole. They’d planned this!

“Why did you do that? Take it off me! Oww!”

I couldn’t draw my legs back in, not even an inch. I leaned towards one strap, but it was beyond the reach of my hand. The pole kept my legs stuck in position. Una tutted.

“You want it off? Then unstrap it yourself. You’ll have to perform the stretching move successfully on both ends to get out. Can’t think of a better motivator than that!”

“That’s insane! I can’t do it.”

“Well you better figure out how. We’re leaving. In 10 minutes the next booking will be here. Get yourself out before then, or you’ll have to let strangers see you like this and help you instead.”

They gathered up their gear and bags and walked away.

“No! You have to let me out! Keri?! Una!!”

The door closed behind them. It wasn’t a bluff. I was really on my own.

I did not want to be found like this, nor did I want to suffer it another 10 minutes. I reached over, bending my torso, extending my arm. Only an inch short, but that inch felt like a mile. My legs cramped, but I had to keep trying. The middle part of the pole kept rubbing against my crotch distracting me. But minute by minute, my fingertip reached a little farther. I was doing it! I could do this!

I glanced at the clock on the wall. The next group would be entering any second. I was sooo close, but I didn’t have enough time. What to do...

The storage room! I’d be out of sight and might be able to continue my escape attempt in privacy. Many people brought their own equipment rather than using the semi-battered publicly available gear.

Wasting no time, I planted both palms flat on the floor, and dragged myself forwards. Like a rower without oars, my hands propelled me along the ground towards the secluded space. I’d barely passed through the doorway when I heard the main door’s handle rattle across the room. I slipped out of sight right as someone entered. That was close!

I realised a new problem. My pole filled up too much of the small room’s floorspace. It prevented me from closing the inward-opening door.

“Alright girls, get in formation. I want the routine’s first minute to be perfect by the time we're done here.”

Another dance trio. Their leader’s voice sounded so familiar, but I just couldn’t place it. At least they weren’t coming any closer. Phew! I could continue escaping in silence. Once free, I could make a decision on whether to remain hidden, or just boldly march right past them and leave.

Ten more minutes elapsed and I’d made little progress. My legs were going to be awfully stiff whenever I did get out. Would that end up being the full hour? I really hoped not. Should I ask this group for help after all?

“No no no! Do it over! I won’t have you performing like that and making me look bad.”

A sudden flash of déjà vu. A dawning realisation of who that voice belonged to. I inched forward and peered into the room. Three girls in red outfits were facing the mirror wall, dextrously twirling hula hoops around their lithe bodies.

The one in the middle, the loud bossy one: it was Millie. The girl who nearly a year ago stuffed me inside a locker with phone-powered dildo to sabotage our rival dance act in a competition. Of all the people in the city who could have rented the room following our slot, it had to be her. The last person in the world I wanted finding me like this.

I scooted back from view. That settled it. I was staying still and silent. No more fumbling and risking discovery. Sore legs would be a small price to pay.

thud!

One of the other girls misstepped and fell flat on her butt. She lost her grip on the hula hoop, letting it roll away.

“Useless! Go fetch that.”

The hula hoop didn’t fall over immediately. It rolled off on its side, taking a wide curve that meandered across most of the room. Then the curve bent inwards, near the back wall, near the back corner...

No... no no no, not here! Keep going!

I watched in horror as the hoop rolled right up to the edge of the doorway. Only then did it finally lose momentum and fall over, clattering against the ground until it settled flat. The dancer hurried right up to it, grabbed it off the floor, and as she stood up...

“AHHH! W-who are you?”

The other two dashed over. Millie pushed the first girl out of the way.

“What are you babbling abou-- oh. Wait, I recognise you. You’re one of Una’s bitches. Aahhh the locker girl!”

“P... please. Can you help me?”

“Help you? After you so rudely intruded on our dance practice? Trying to spy on us and steal our moves I’ll bet.”

“No I wasn’t!”

“Sure you weren’t. Seems to me like you didn’t learn your lesson properly last time. Let’s do something about that.”

gulp

“Phewww. What a workout. Time’s up girls. Change quickly and bring me your ‘tributes’ like I asked.”

The three girls were panting heavily. Millie had pushed them hard, allowing no breaks. I was still in the storage room, but the spreader pole wasn’t my biggest concern anymore.

My back rested against a shelf. Ropes, ribbons and rolls of sports tape bound me to it. I couldn’t move at all. Even my ponytail was lashed to an upper shelf so my head was kept still.

My arms were bound in a reverse-prayer tie. The bottom of the dance uniform dug deeply into me thanks to a crotchrope. My mouth was chewing on a large squishy juggling ball, which was kept inside by athletic bandages wrapped around my head.

“Have you worked up a sweat as well Va Va girl?”

“Mmmph!”

Millie ripped away the tape gag and pulled the juggling ball out of my mouth with a pop.

“Ahhh. P-please let me go! I won’t tell anyone. Not even Una. I c-can’t bear this any longer. My legs are killing mmmmph!!”

A horribly wet material was forced between my lips. Then another one, and finally a third, barely fitting inside. All three items were completely sopping wet, their absorbed liquids leaking copiously into my mouth. The concentrated flavour was stinging my taste buds.

“Nothing like a mouthful of fresh sweaty panties to really drive a lesson home, eh slut?”

“Nnnghh?!!!”

“Mmm, slurp it down. Maybe the next group will gag you with their used underwear too. Probably not, but a girl can dream.”

She taped my mouth back up, twice as many layers as before. I wailed in despair.

“You want some privacy? Here, I can help.”

She lifted my bound leg off the floor, the one body part not fastened to the shelf. She lifted it just high enough to pull the door past it, then she stepped outside and released my foot. My leg slammed back down, the pole end shoving the door all the way closed, landing wedged against its base.

How was someone outside supposed to open the door with the pole driven against it? I was stuck inside!

click!

The storage room went dark. Millie had switched the light off from outside. I heard her walk away laughing.

I squirmed in panicked rage, but that only made me choke down more of the foul panty sweat. I prayed for the next booking to arrive soon. I’d have to yell my head off to be heard but they would definitely hear.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty? Where were they? Booking this venue had to be done weeks in advance, since it was always fully booked out. How could no-one be showing up now of all times? I grew weary from simply enduring the tightness of the constraints. My legs twitched from even thinking about them.

The no-show slot was the longest hour of my life. I was in a state of delirium when I finally heard clunking footsteps in the room. Someone was here! The next group?

“H... hhmm.... hhmmmmmmh!!!”

The steps continued pacing around in the distance. How was that shout not loud enough?

“HHHHHMMHH!”

More mouthfuls of Millie’s effluence. Even now it hadn’t run out of flavour. I couldn’t afford to care. I needed to draw attention. A voice spoke aloud. An older man, muttering to himself.

“Can’t believe the last booking of the day cancelled. That never happens. Ah well. Tomorrow’s another today.”

A caretaker? The owner? I gag-screamed like mad but he didn’t react. I heard a very faint sound of music. He had headphones on!!

“MMMMHHHHH!!”

His footsteps receded and concluded with a distant door slam. The sliver of light visible under the door vanished as the main lights went off too.

I despaired, stuck in the storage room, strictly bound, wet-panty gagged, still suffering, still stuck doing the splits.