Back to Part 3
- - 14 - -
She pushed him out into the hall. "Time to scrub you down."
"Oh, good." Scowling, he took a drag.
"C'mon. Same place as before."
His reluctance was clear as he started to move. Eyes locked on the door with all the fuckin' padlocks...
As he got closer, he gave it a wide berth.
"Knock on it," Amy teased him.
"Yeah," he laughed nervously. "Right."
"Bufhold would be just thrilled to meet ya." He shivered and walked faster, so she squeezed his ass a few times. "Invite ol' Bodie in."
"Man," he groaned, "you can be one mean bitch sometimes." And she laughed, like he knew she would. Flattered.
As the tub filled he sat on the toilet, and had a smoke while he did his business.
A pair of neoprene cuffs floated over to him. "I can wash myself."
"Not today," Amy said. "I want to make sure you don't miss any spots."
He didn't like the way that sounded. "A... long bath?"
"Let's say, a leisurely bath. A fun bath."
"Fun for who?"
A big bottle of baby oil drifted over the tub. The cap was unscrewed and tossed aside, and it poured... until it was empty.
When she got done scrubbing him, he'd laughed himself hoarse again.
"There," Amy giggled, wrapping thick towels around him.
"Fuck," he whispered, still trying to catch his breath.
"So soft..."
"Yeah, that's a real biker-badass thing. Soft skin."
The door opened, and a box floated in.
"Surprise."
His expression looked as if another hypodermic was on the way over. He caught a glimpse of leather. Here we go again -
"Oh," he said, recognizing the shapes. "Cool."
The box came to him. There were boots in it. New ones. Like engineer boots, but without the big rings... just straps surrounding the ankles.
Setting the boots on the floor, he pulled out a pair of black jeans, and a nice shirt. Harley shirt, naturally. Long sleeves, leather on the shoulders. Underwear, socks, a tight black t-shirt -
And under that, a familiar metal... appliance.
Bodie sprang back, but she'd been waiting. With another burst of giggles, she grabbed his right hand and pulled it out over his head. With a firm poke, his knees buckled and she sat him down on the floor.
"Amuseur -"
"No. Just sit there..." A pint bottle of whiskey came out of the box.
He tugged on his arm. Another box rose up, over his head. An extension cord fell and uncoiled...
Then the control unit drifted down to the floor. And a smaller box, which was opened. Ink. Needles.
"I'm not letting you go without a reminder."
"Fuck! I'm covered with reminders -"
"Property tag, then." The needle was being placed in the gun barrel, an alcohol wipe was rubbing his captured index finger, the cap was unscrewing from the whiskey bottle and two small bottles of tattoo ink were being shaken - all at once.
He blinked, and opened his mouth. Then he just closed it again.
She didn't let him watch. He kept taking nips from the bottle, as she ordered.
Bodie wasn't even done with his second cigarette when the tat gun went back in the box.
"Done?"
"Nine minutes," he heard. "I amaze myself, sometimes." She smeared ointment on his finger.
"Ow. Son of a bitch -"
"Tough guy. Baby biker, with a brand new tat." Amy let go of his hand.
He lowered it... and stared. On his right index finger, there was a feather. Black, with a fancy red 'A' inside it.
"Why there?"
"Huh?"
"Not on the... back, of the finger. But on the side?"
"You bet. So everybody can see it."
"Terrific," he grumbled. "Why not just frame me for drug-running, get it over with."
"Such a funny guy," Amy said, clearly not amused. "Right there, you're gonna see it all day long."
There was a pause. "When I smoke."
"Smart, and funny. Look over here... I'm sticking a tube of ointment in the pocket of your new shirt. You know what to do."
Bodie nodded. He knew, alright. At least this was a tat he could rub salve on, without making himself chuckle.
She made him get dressed. He walked back down the hall, followed by his jacket and the long-sleeve shirt, folded as if they were over her arm or something.
At the exit, she hooked his belt-loop, and he stopped. The jacket moved, and a pair of gloves floated out. His old gloves. As he pulled 'em on, a coil of rope sank down near the ground - and start circling his ankles.
When he was hogtied, and held in midair, the door opened.
He looked down the hall this way and that. No activity... no sound.
Back in the garage, she untied him.
"I still don't think that was necessary..."
"It's never necessary to tie you up, Bodie."
"But you enjoy it so damn much."
"And don't you dare try to tell me you don't like it," Amy said firmly. "Outrageous tickling is more likely to happen when you're helpless."
He got up and stretched. Dug for a smoke. A humming noise started up, and the rock-wall opened.
Walking past the shovelhead, he lingered... running a hand across the throttle and the brake levers. Amuseur watched his eyes unfocus a little. A smirk came over his face - and stayed there as he swaggered up the ramp.
His car was just out front. Above it, the sky just was full of stars.
"Home, then?"
"Not... quite."
- - 15 - -
Amy took an hour to rub him. Massaging him into a limp puddle... before she told him.
"I have this friend," she said hesitantly. "Aw - hell. Look. I have the adventure of a lifetime, all set up for you."
"Hmmmm?" he growled.
"Yeah. Uh... Bodie, you know you're my favorite. Right?"
"Uh-huh."
"Usually a tickler's first victim is their favorite, but she isn't with us any more."
He opened his eyes. "She."
"She."
"Ah," Bodie said. "So, did you tickle her t-"
A hand clamped over his mouth. Pinching so hard it hurt. That woke him right up.
"You're drunk," Amy said, "so I'll give you one warning. You don't want to finish that sentence. You don't even want to think it."
He nodded slowly.
"Whether you believe it or not, I miss her." There was a pause. "And it was a bus accident, you insensitive jerk."
Bodie sighed, and the hand went away.
"So we won't dishonor her memory. Will we?"
"No. Never. Sorry, Amy."
"You better be. Jackass. It wasn't long after... After. About a month had gone by, when I cruised over to the high school, and saw the cutest little stud running laps."
"Uh-huh."
"So here we are." She started rubbing his arms again. He lit another smoke.
"And?"
"And... I have something I want you to do."
"Like - work?"
She laughed, then. "The kind you do best."
"Oh." From Amy, that could only mean... endless tickling.
"Someone's missing their best friend. Because of a ridiculous woman who keeps interfering, it only gets to play with its favorite buddy once a year."
"Let me guess - for eleven months."
"I like the way you think," Amy said, patting his collarbones. "But no. Two lousy weeks a year. Can you believe it? And my... friend, it just let him go again. Until next year. I don't like it when my friends are, uh, missing their tickle-friends."
He didn't say anything.
"So I'm going to do a nice thing, and loan you -"
"Nice," Bodie snorted. "Selling me into slavery."
"Don't be so dramatic."
"But you are."
"And you love it. You think I don't see that bulge in your jeans?"
"Dammit..."
I'm not selling you. Lending," Amy said.
"How long?"
There was a pause. "Well..."
"More than a year?"
"Welllll..."
He sat upright. "I was kidding!"
"But this tickler's so good, Bodie. Legendary."
"A year?"
Her hands rubbed him, as a response. After he wasn't tense any more, she answered. "Unless it really likes you."
"Oh, fuck..."
"You're so easy to love, Bo-"
"Please. You're just gonna... send me away? For a year - or more?"
"Well..."
"Where?"
"Where, what?"
"Don't torture me," he shouted. "Not that way. Where am I gonna spend this year?"
"Promise me you won't yell."
"Like that would change anything. Where?"
"Deep breath. Breathe in..."
Bodie sat up - or tried to. "Aw, hell. No! The passport."
"You are going to love it," she promised. "For a guy who loves tickling, it's paradise."
"No," he whined.
She just kept massaging. A minute went by. He lit another cigarette.
"Is it Mexico?"
"Brazil."
Bodie... froze. "You just said... Did you just say... Brazil?"
"I did."
A beer bottle opened, and found its way into his hand.
"And I thought Mexico was bad," he mumbled. "You can't be serious."
"I am."
"You're haulin' me to... South America. Fuckin' Sou-"
"No, you're going to fly down there. You've got a ticket. First class."
"I am? When?"
She paused again. Not a good sign. "Thirteen hours from now."
He smoked the rest of that cigarette in silence. Amy recognized his mood - it was a variation of what he did whenever she caught him. He needed his quiet time to go over the chances of escaping from her.
"I really don't want to go to Brazil," he finally said.
"Bodie, sweetie... I'm not asking."
"Shit."
He whined for a little while longer, and then he finally drifted off to sleep.
Amuseur caressed him. Sneaking his boots off, opening the fly of his jeans. Not long after she traced her fingers up into his armpits, he started to move. Tiny little jerks, and little throat-noises that were all the sound he could make. She knew quite well to how to play with him and avoid waking him up.
So he spent three sweaty hours trapped in sleep. Propped up behind the wheel...
But in his dreams, he roared like a panther. Fought with her restraints, and felt each touch of fifty tools, slamming home. There were no rest breaks, endless orgasms, no need to pause for food...
He was mighty - but his tickler was even more powerful. Her name was Amuseur.
Amy knew exactly what his dreams were like. She'd forced him to tell her, over and over. He'd inspired several techniques that she'd used to - literally - make his dreams come true.
More important, tonight, was that she was going to miss him. Several other men were already in for unspeakable tickling, in his place. That would help her feel somewhat better, but watching him dream - and whispering a taunt or a suggestion, now and then, just the enjoy the reaction - gave her the notion that when he was unconscious, in Brazil, it would seem to Bodie that he was still being exquisitely tortured by her hands.
- - 16 - -
She had fun messing with him... until it was time to buy more gas.
Bodie was trembling when he woke up. Immediately, he acted all annoyed. Snapped his lighter shut, like it was going to impress her. Make her back off. So cute.
"I believe I will get some coffee," he announced, struggling with his boots.
"Badass," Amy said, admiring the way he glared at the dashboard. No doubt he would've given her a dirty look, if he only knew where to aim it. "What's the matter, Bodie?"
"Nightmares."
"C'mon... Were they all that bad? Or just nice and... vivid?"
He knew why his boots had been taken off, and his jeans were open. "Maybe I will be glad to go to Brazil, after all."
"Ooooo," and she hooted at him. "Button your fly, dude. I'll bet you another five hundred grand you're going to love it at the palace."
"Palace, huh?" But he was rolling up to the gas pump...
"Tell me," he said, blowing on his coffee to cool it off. "About where you're gonna make me go."
Amy took his hand off the steering wheel. "You just get comfy again. And Amuseur's gonna tell you all about the palace, and the... feverishly happy rabbits they keep there."
Bodie needed another half-hour, to search for a way out.
And there was no escaping her. Once he got on the plane - and she had backup plans, if he resisted - he was doomed. Other ticklers at LAX, "helping" him find the connecting flight if need be. And more in Bogota. This friend of hers, Tor, it must have a lot of... friends.
They'd be on him like flies on shit.
Even if he did slip the noose, Amy wouldn't fuck up a second time. And he couldn't even imagine how she'd punish him...
"What's the big deal about tats, there?"
Warm, invisible hands landed on his collarbones again, and kneaded...
She was very relieved he was talking to her. It meant he'd resigned himself to the plans she'd made. Since her plans had never failed to make him delirious, there was no reason to think this would be any exception.
"They've perfected tattoo removal at the palace," Amy said. "You're going to get sleeved again, Bodie. Phenomenal art. Arms, chest, back... and hands, except this one -" She pressed the spot on his glove which covered the newest artwork. He pulled his hand away. "All guys who do time at the palace get these incredibly cool tats. And there's an official palace tat, I guess. To protect you. They're gonna tell any tickler who sees 'em that you're a rabbit. So you're off limits - unless your owner allows 'em to tickle you."
"And you're still gonna be my owner, right?"
Oh, he had to be kidding. "Um-hmmmm," she sighed.
"Okay. What kind of instructions did you send 'em?... Care and feeding?"
"One cup of dry food in the morning, and another cup at night. One rawhide chew ev-"
"That's not funny," he said sternly - and started to grin.
"Uh-huh. Just the tape. They -"
"Tape?"
She messed up his hair, mainly for the pleasure of watching him frown and straighten it out. "Think of it as an audition tape. Demo reel."
"Which one?"
"Oh, for pete's sake -"
"I'm only asking."
"And I'm not going to tell you. It was an hour I'm proud of. Professional-grade tickling. That dumb grin on your face probably clinched the deal."
"Deal," he scoffed. "Like I was a... head of cattle."
"Tor doesn't need any hints. It's been at this longer - makes me and Boss look like stone rookies."
"I can't even start to picture that," he said quietly.
"No. But you'll see."
Bodie seemed sad. "Must be a good friend."
"Huh?"
"This tickler. Tor. You're, uh, giving me up for a long time."
She just hugged him, real hard. And held it.
Even though there were tears in his eyes, he just fuckin' refused to break down. And anyway, once she made up her mind... "Tor's got booze, there?"
Men. Honestly. She went back to massaging his shoulders. "And weed. A whole plot... Where are you going with this?"
He got fidgety. "I never know for sure if you're telling me the truth."
Her hands stopped. "Bodie. Listen. You're going down there. I will make sure of that. Now what do I gain by lying to you?"
He shrugged.
"It's not like I have to convince you -"
"I know. I just... Damn. If it decides..."
"What?"
"What if this Tor says, like, this guy smokes too much? Cigarettes?"
She burst out laughing.
"I knew it!"
"No, you don't. You are so wrong. You have no idea."
"About what?"
"Rabbits smoke, inmate. A lot."
"All of 'em?"
"I promise. It's a little obsession down there. Let me see if I get this right... Every cigarette means tickling is going to follow. Sooner or later. You're gonna smoke your head off, guy. That's their signal to ya, that the fun will resume."
"Eeeww... Well, then," he said.
"You hated to smoke when I met ya."
"Fuck," Bodie snorted. "Before then, I smoked two cigarettes. In my whole life. And then you -"
"I remember the look on your face," she said, "when I dropped that carton by your head. Remember?"
"Sorta... I was a runner, Amuseur."
"I know. Well, listen, I have two reasons you're gonna get to smoke, and drink, and get high. They have a bunch of herbal medicines that we've never even heard of. Rabbits come out of the jungle in unbelievably good shape, even after they overindulge in every vice you've got now. And a few new ones."
"Yippee -"
"And I wasn't exaggerating. Tor really can read your mind, stud. What you enjoy now is what it'll use. It likes the idea of snagging a guy who's so damn happy when he's getting tickled right. So ol' Bodie is gonna be a challenge for Tor. Count on it. It'll zoom in on what you like... to make your ticklishness explode."
"Make me into a rabbit."
"Uh-huh. My rabbit. It's just a nickname. Palace rabbits. You're comin' right back - to Nineteen. Ride up on a fine shovelhead of your own..."
He nodded a little.
"Rest up, and then you're gonna show us what a rabbit can do. You're definitely coming back, so Boss and I can play with ya for a loooooong time, little Nineteen."
"Fuck..."
She rubbed his arms. "I'm gonna miss this. Massaging these tats."
"But I'll have new ones."
"Smartass."
"Yeah. Where do I get off?" He meant it like, who do I think I am.
"In Colombia," Amy shot back. "A 'copter will be waiting."
He blew smoke out of his nostrils. "I don't deserve this shit."
"That might go over better if you weren't so excited."
Bodie lifted his head. "I am not."
"Please. Talkin' to Amy, here. You're hard right now. Muscles all tense. And look at all the smoke in this car..."
A few seconds passed. And he sighed.
"Yeah. Uh-huh. I'll say it one more time. Another half-million bucks if you aren't wildly happy. At the palace. Other guys may fight it. But I know you." She stuck the whiskey bottle back in his hand. "And I know Tor. It's gonna be a tough call - which of you is happier with the other..."
"You better b-"
"Oh, I don't think I told you. What Slammater said."
"Do I know this... character?"
"It was the one tickling your 'pits in the monitor room. The day you pulled that sweet half-skid."
"Oh."
"It watched us, during your physical... And afterward, you know what it says to me? 'Shit, Amy, what do you do to punish this kid - strap him down and not tickle him?'"
"Ha ha."
"Well, I thought it was a scream."
He yawned.
"You'll laugh about it... later," she said ominously.
- - 17 - -
Near the airport, he hit a drive-through for breakfast.
"Last meal," Bodie grumbled.
"They'll feed you on the plane."
That wasn't what he meant. As if the palace wasn't scary enough, he'd never flown anywhere before.
Amy guided him through the maze of turns, and into one of the long-term parking lots. She had him pull way in back.
"So, how long until they tow my car away?" he asked.
"Wrong again," she said cheerfully. "Kee's gonna pick it up."
"Really? Does he know yet?"
"Oh, yeah. He's going to be house-sitting for you."
"The whole time?"
"A week. Week and a half..."
Bodie hooted, nodding his head. "Oh yeah."
Keenan was Bodie's brother. Three years older. A merciless tickler when they were kids. Total bastard. Years ago Amy had a little "talk" with Kee, and another, and so on... At first Bodie loved thinking about it - Kee, getting tickled hard! Eventually, he begged her to pick on somebody else. But she insisted. So that was that.
He shut off the engine, which meant he was getting closer to all that tickling. "I know - luggage. I'll stand out, won't I? Goin' on a trip that far, with no bags?"
"In the trunk."
"Dammit, Amy. Always one step ahead."
"It's a good chance to get rid of the clothes I don't like."
"Well, naturally," he sneered.
"Easy. You won't fit into any of 'em, when Tor gets through with you."
Bodie gulped. "Thought you said they're big on... feeding their prisoners."
"Nooooo. Oh, no," she cackled. "Of course they are. Very big. Think, prisoner - food is crucial for long-term fun. The palace is a very long-term place... I meant just the opposite. Stoner. You're gonna be so muscular..." She let the sentence trail off.
"Just great."
"I'll getcha all new gear." He frowned harder. "Jacket, chaps -"
"Oh," Bodie said. "Okay."
"Yeah. Thought you'd like that."
"Hell of a price to pay."
"Not for you. You're like a sponge. More, Amuseur... C'mon, tickle me some more -"
"I never said that!"
"Your eyes do. Every time. And you grin like a wolf."
"That's 'cause you... messed me up."
She laughed, and opened the car door. "Everything's my fault."
"Well..." The trunk popped open. He walked back, and sure enough - a new leather suitcase.
"You don't have to check that in. It's okay to carry it on with you."
"Can I smoke? On the plane?"
"Sorry. Not the first one. But LAX-to-Bogota... they'll say when it's okay."
"I'm gonna get drunk. On the long flight." He got nosy and unzipped the top of the suitcase. His passport, a ticket folder. Digging deeper, he was relieved to see a carton of cigarettes. There were some candy bars too, and a couple of magazines. Easyriders. "Alright."
"Check your shirt pocket. Not where your smokes are, the other one..."
Bodie closed up the bag, and poked around. The ointment for his tat - and a couple hundred bucks.
"Don't flash that around," she warned him. "Keep your wallet up front. Airports are full of pickpockets."
"Okay, Mom."
After a second, determined fingers dug into his sides. Bodie cackled, trying to pull her hands off, and twisted around.
"You know I hate that," she hissed in his ear. Then she was giggling again -
"Okay oh-aaah haaah haw hawww whoh okay oh... okay... ff-fuck."
She sighed, and let him go. A cigarette crept out of his pack.
"I would never take a chance with you," Amy said quietly, "Not ever. I want you safe... and more ticklish than ever."
His eyes darted around, as if there was some surprise coming. Finally, he nodded.
"Try not to be so nervous," and she squeezed his ass through the denim. "Twenty-four hours from now, this will all make sense."
"That's kinda what I'm afraid of."
Amy laughed again, and ran a hand up his back. "Get your bag. Throw the keys in the trunk, and slam it good. I'll unlock it for your sadistic brother."
"And put him in there," he murmured, tossing his key ring inside.
"Hmmmm. Interesting..."
"Forget it. I was kidding. But it would be cool if he had a good time. Wild. You know."
She giggled - so that was definitely on the agenda, then, for fuckin' Kee - and rubbed his shoulders.
"So. Now what do I do?"
"You know..." she said, almost as if she was flirting with him. "Walk to Terminal C. Stop out front, have another smoke, look cool. Then the ticket counter... bathroom, gate, and onto the plane."
He started walking.
"Don't worry. You'll be okay. Better than okay."
"Uh-huh."
"Can I trust you to make it to your flight? On time?"
That amazed him. "Can I trust you to torture the fuck out of me, if I don't?"
"Uh-huh," Amy said... and she started giggling.
She squeezed his ass, and made him pause. One more long, lingering squeeze -
And then the hands were gone.
Bodie stood there for another sec, and took a drag. He looked at his car. The one with his keys locked in the trunk. Other cars...
Amy wasn't an idiot. She'd know he was trying to find a last-minute option.
She'd watch until he was on the plane. Until it took off. Then other ticklers would watch, and make sure he switched planes like he was supposed to. He'd have to be drunk and strongarmed to get on a mutherfuckin' helicopter, in Bogota.
That was later. He kicked a stone that was in his way. Thought for a few more seconds...
And walked to the terminal.
Amy watched him think it over - and decide to do what he was told. Such a good prisoner.
She hung around until his plane was off the ground.
Bodie looked out the window as the plane taxied away... and snuck his hand up. A tough-guy wave.
"Nuke ya later, babe," she said quietly. "Play safe."
- - 18 - -
Amuseur drifted around the Palace, admiring the buildings. Ogling the guys. So cut, and every one of 'em a certified basket-case when fingers starting dancing on 'em -
She passed a dark-haired fox, paused, and went back to look again.
Uh-huh.
It was just stunning. He looked about seventeen, and the fucker had grown an inch. She had to ask Tor about that. Intricate tattoos covered him. Fine-line work. Dark tan, long hair... and perfect muscles.
He looked great. Wow. If Amy let on that she cruised right past without recognizing him, Tor - and he - would never let her live it down.
The stud finished a smoke and dug for another, chattering away in Portugese. The other two guys seemed to actually be listening to him -
Then they all broke up. He must've been telling a joke.
She grabbed his butt cheeks, and gave 'em a slow squeeze.
"Uh..."
"Scooter trash," she whispered happily.
"Amy! Hey!"
"I missed you so much," she whispered. "Drop that cigarette."
"Aw, me too. And no."
But then he flapped around, roaring all of a sudden - as she blitzed his sides...
"What's in here? Hmmmm?"
He tried to talk, but she had him snickering way too hard. He was shaking his head - like it was a place that he didn't want her to haul him into. Then his knees buckled, so she grabbed his legs. They were like stone...
She already knew the answer. Tor called it "the shock room", and invited her to use it. Get reacquainted with her "conejo feliz". She had the descending shelf all loaded and ready. Their favorite toys. A carton of smokes...
"In you go, Bodie." She picked him up a little, and folded his knees. That gave her the chance to pop his moccasins off, and start thrashing his feet. He screamed laughter.
She closed the door. The cuffs were enormous, but they matched his thick wrists. Within a minute, he was spread out on the padded floor. Nice and tight. Going nowhere...
"Let's see what you got. Rabbit."
"No no no now Amy, Amuseur, go easy on me at f-"
Eighty thrilled fingers got barbaric on his most tender spots.
He didn't speak anymore. Impossible. Bodie hooted for a minute, and fought the straps that held him down. Then he gradually quit moving, and after a few soulful yelps he didn't even laugh. Mouth wide open, head back, he just got lost in all the hands which knew him so fuckin' well...
And the grin on his face couldn't have been any bigger.
20oct02