"Informed" by a photo that recently made the rounds...
You groan quietly, coming around.
A new adventure is about to start. Everything's set. We've just been waiting for you to wake up.
Lifting your head and then trying to sit back - but you can't. You move your fingers, but your hands won't budge. They're tied to the bedframe in front of you. You stare at the rope, and tug... and see your ankles, caught too, spread wide. That wakes you up. Pulling, yelling - and you roll your head suddenly. There's a gag.
You look all around. Empty room, no door. Taking another look around for that exit, you don't find it. There's a small window to your right, but all you can see is rooftops.
You yell louder, and try to shake the bedframe. But we've tied you real well. You can't do a thing. The gag is keeping you quiet, and the bed hardly moves.
You need some incentive.
Here we are.
Two of us, floating out from under the bed - and you freeze, staring at us. Priceless. We got your attention. Cruising away, for now, so you can get a good look... while you can. In a few seconds you won't be able to study anything. Too preoccupied.
You remember the ropes again, and pull real hard.
We stop, and rise... and split off. You look like you're having some trouble with the whole setup, here. Naked, tied down, in an room without a door that you've never seen before - and here we come, right to you. There's absolutely nothing you can do to skip out on any of this.
We're headed for your feet.
You bark out something loud, over and over and try to lift the bed again, looking frustrated, not believing this. But you will. Even better, you bounce up and down as we're closing the gap -
Landing.
Touching... and starting to rub.
Your eyes get huge! It's hilarious! Shaking your head, trying to rear back -
And you start to chuckle. Short, involuntary grunts.
We trace lines up and down your soles, and you throw your head back, yelling again. We keep going. Your shouts give way to laughter, steady and muffled.
We speed up a little, and you laugh harder. Stroke the sides of your feet, and your toes, and we get you to squeal. And something else is happening, too. You haven't looked down there yet... but you're getting hard. Is this setup wild enough for you - or have you been tied down before? Either way, it works. Just a couple of us on you, not even a minute stroking your feet, and your cock is definitely on the rise. What's it going to look like when we really dig in? Or when we start petting it?
Two more of us rise up. That gets you tugging again, flailing like crazy. You're watching us, snickering hard and shaking your head - but not very enthusiastically, like you don't think your protests are going to do any good. They're not. Maybe you still can't believe this isn't a weird, intense dream...
But it's real. You're not imagining this. We got you tied down here. Here's why... the new pair creeps into your armpits. You slam back, and try to roll to the side. But we're sticking close. We've got your feet, and your armpits, and all the rest of you to play with.
You make a weird shrieking noise, and then you start to whoop. Your head hangs down, swaying. You're still trying to pull at the ropes, but your attempts aren't very consistent now. You're too busy laughing.
Two more of us come up, and really mess with your neck. That makes you squeal again, over and over...
A couple more lay into your chest, and belly. You flop around like you're having a seizure, but the ropes keep you in place. Desperate to get up, but you can't. We won't allow that.
Another pair takes charge of your knees.
We make you roar for a few minutes. All the fight goes, as you put your full effort into laughing for us. Tears run down your face. You sag forward, but you can't block us at all, not with your legs spread like this.
We've got full access to your crotch. But we're saving that for later. Right now, we stop ignoring what could turn out to be your best feature... as a few of us land on your ribs.
You go wild. But the fight only lasts maybe ten seconds. And we keep on rubbing. You sit there and howl. No other choice. You're hysterical.
We're just getting started.
You'll see.
We have a dozen ingenious ways to tie you up. We have stocks. Racks. This room is safe. We have food, supplies...
And you.
You're our prisoner.
We have an insane time in store for you.
Everything was prepared, and we went on the hunt. Saw you on the beach, watched you get into a cab. Tracked you to the strip club, and the liquor store, and your hotel. Looked through your luggage while you were taking a dump. You looked promising enough, so we dosed your beer. We studied you as you jerked off... and as you passed out, we snuck under the sheet and tested a few spots. You don't even remember that, do you? And you didn't disappoint us. Fun to play with.
So you left the hotel around four in the morning. Slept like a baby as we brought you over the border... into our room, here. The three flights below you are vacant.
You're not going to make that subcontractor meeting tomorrow.
As a matter of fact, you've fallen off the face of the earth... and into our hands.
You're all ours now. Literally.
Stashed away, tied down.
Unconditional endurance tickling.
You seem to be up for it. We're up for it. Nothing will interrupt us here. You can look out the window... but you're not leaving this room for a long time, the weeks slowly blurring together as we keep you busy.
Right now we tickle you harder.
You sit there and roar.
It's hard work, isn't it? Getting tickled. The real thing. You probably never imagined it before - didn't know anything more than somebody trying to poke you in the ribs for a few seconds while you wrestled around.
But we all keep going and going, and you can't budge.
Staying put... laughing your guts out. Not just for tonight, or a week of this. Or a month.
After a half-hour, you look pretty wiped out. Out of shape, but we'll fix that. Soon you'll be in prime condition. We'll put that to good use. Just you wait.
We clean up your piss while you watch. You're talking steadily, but the gag makes it sound like gibberish. Begging, maybe. Trying to convince us to stop. You have no idea what you're in for, do you? It'll be interesting to see how that'll change after about a week with us.
We bring up the squeeze bottle and work the straw underneath the bandanna, between your jaws. You struggle at first, but we know you have to be thirsty - grimacing at the taste. We dosed it with speed. You'll stay up until sunset. You swallow it, and keep swallowing.
Get played with all day, sleep all night.
We take the bottle away. You look around at us. From the expression on your face, you know we're about to start in on you again. Are you wondering why? What you did to deserve this? How to make it stop?
Well, you'll catch on. You're not getting punished.
You're getting tickled.
No fixed sentence. It's more like you've been... committed. By us. Kidnapped, but nobody's getting a ransom note. It's all on you. Pure, electrified reaction. That's why you're here.
So we take hold of you and start in again.
You squawk and try to flop around. More and more of us curl around you and stroke you again. Trying to shake your head, but you end up letting it hang again, hands and feet trying to flex, braying like a donkey. Your cock is bouncing already.
We have plenty of time to get to know your best spots. So we just dig in where we've already been playing, and send another set to roam around your arms and legs and backside. But not your meat. We're not going to let you come until tomorrow, after a good night's sleep. You'll need it. Seeing how quick you start to come to attention when we're just barely touching you, we think your ticklishness after a long-overdue cumshot is going to be spectacular. You'll need to be spread wide, flat on your back, anchored good and snug. Oh - and shaved. Even better.
We keep on playing.
You slump forward and hoot continuously.
Another full half-hour. Then you get more water - plain old water, no drugs. Your eyes are constricted. Too alert.
When you quit panting and start snapping at the ropes again, we dig in.
You're trying so hard to put up a fight... but all the struggle fades away after a few minutes. Unnecessary movement is abandoned again.
You drop your head and laugh. Ragged, lusty barks, monotonous - but fierce. Real earnest. Not too tired, or too anxious. Definitely not faking it. Even through the gag, you sound like you're genuinely, insatiably amused. An overjoyed barbarian. It's perfect.
There's a pained little grin on your face. Tears and sweat drip in front of your oozing cock. Your eyes are shut, but not squeezed tight like they were earlier. Your body has relaxed. Not resisting it anymore. Oblivious to everything except us, and our favorite way to play.
We rub you for forty-five minutes before the next water break.
Then, a full hour.
You're keeping up just fine. Another hour, coming right up.
And another, and another, and another.
Daylight is going... but you're not. We squeeze and polish and ride you. Teasing right next to the loops of rope. Clenching and groping your butt cheeks.
More water, and then the last attack - for today - as the sky grows dark.
Your voice is just about gone. Slumped way over, chest heaving. We trace lightly in a dozen places. Fatigue is winning out, though. Maybe you'll need a nap in the middle of the day. A little siesta. Making up the lost time after sunset, of course. We'll see.
It's almost too dark to see when we slow it down, and go away one by one. Pull your head back and make you swallow some more water. Some of it runs down your chest, but that's okay. As soon as we let go, you're leaning again, too tired to sit up.
And two or three minutes later, you start to snore.
Rest up. Tomorrow, you have an even bigger day in store for you...
We loosen the knots and ease you back. Bring out the razors. Carefully, we start at your crotch and work our way up. Belly, chest, armpits, and down your arms. All pale and smooth now. Down your legs, to your ankles, to the top of your feet. Roll you over, and clear off your back, and your asshole, down your calves. After we shave your neck, we look over your head... but decide to see how reactive your face is before "finishing" the job.
We lift you into the air and pull off the sheet, flip the mattress, and lay another sheet down. Then we wash you, rinsing away the rest of the hair. All smooth, now. Dry you off, lay you back down, and start rubbing cream in. That makes you restless. We continue, more gently, working in several coats of moisturizer.
Then we spread your limbs and tie you back down. Waiting for the morning.
Such excitable feet. If they're this sensitive now, with all that abuse they got on the beach on Saturday...
You won't stand on 'em once while you're in this room. That's a promise.
As sweet as they've been reacting, we still think the jackpot is somewhere else. That's our goal for today - learning all your secrets. With the liberal use of oils, we'll know your five most sensitive parts before the afternoon is over... and then the action will start on your crotch. Cock and balls, along with each of those inexhaustible hot zones. A long climb up to the wildest climax of your life, and a thorough test of your sensitivity after you cum.
You sleep soundly, all prepared and laid out, tightly restrained. We wander over you, so lightly, without the inconvenience of body hair.
The night passes slowly. Now and then you grunt, or move a little, as we stroke and touch... pulling off so you don't wake up yet. Your reactions are giving you away. Low in your armpits, the crest of your shins, the sides of your feet. Tied down, in for such a delirious time, utterly doomed.
When you finally - finally! - start to groan, we're right there with the water bottle. You test it... and start drinking. Eyes still closed - not quite awake, huh?
Well, we know how to change that.
Away goes the water bottle.
And here we go again -
Four of us hop on and start to play with your captive feet. Four others terrorize your ribs and armpits. Two for your shins and knees. Two for your thighs, two for your belly, and a pair for your neck and shoulders...
Now your eyes open, nice and big. Howling right away, too. Very hoarse. Jerking around and wrestling, squinting at us, looking all around...
At the closed window.
At the walls that lack a door.
At the rope pinning your limbs, stretching them toward the corners of the mattress.
And, finally, at the grimy ceiling. All tense, shaking your head erratically, snapping at the tethers like a wolverine. Laughing with crude, supercharged determination.
We know how to make you more and more ticklish.
It'll take a long... long time.
Your fight fades, but we don't let up. After a few last jerks, you close your eyes... and give up. Give in, completely. So incorrigibly sensitive. So defenseless. Tied down, securely anchored here, and you can't dodge us at all.
Another infinite, hysterical day begins, and we're going to play hard. With you. Keep you crazed... all morning. So we do.
We push you until midday. Let you rest up, make you eat. Take some water in, piss... and then your eyelids start to close.
That's when we start investigating. Your toes.
Wide awake, then. Eyes open, neck craning - and you shake your head desperately. Already chuckling...
We already know about how touchy your feet are. But we're going to be methodical. Testing the bottoms of your feet, then the sides, around to the tops. And you're already a basket case.
Up to the rope, and then on to your shins...
It takes a couple of hours. But by the time we let go of your ears, we know you even better than before.
The hard curves of your shaved pecs. Firm stroking on the inner side of your forearms. The flat spots between each hip and your pubic hair. Drastic response from lightly screatching your knees, instead of squeezing them. The top of each shoulder blade...
These areas made you laugh unexpectedly hard. Now we know how to stimulate them, in addition to the tried and true playing fields. After another water break, we begin provoking the most obvious target of all.
Your cock responds... solidly.
This isn't much of a challenge. Not our main area of interest. But we tease your meat, under and above and alongside it, so a fierce climax will increase the impact of the tickling that will follow. You're addled, feverish, sweating freely in the middle of the afternoon. If you're not far more reactive after you finally shoot your load... you will be.
Barely making contact, we make you groan. Your glazed eyes look over at the window. From the outside, the room appears to be vacant... giving no outsider any reason to suspect you're here. All you can see, flat on your back here, is empty sky.
We back off when you start to tense up, and wait for you to sag back into the damp mattress. For the next hour, we do this. You gradually get closer to finishing up, and we get fewer and fewer strokes in. At last, gritting your teeth, you try so hard to come - and we pick that moment to trace the soles of your feet. Your eyes pop open comically, and you shake your head at us! But we don't stop.
And after a few more minutes of denial, silent chuckling, frantic tension... you arch, like a wave anchored at the corners, and go off like a geyser. We all let go, just hold back until you're done. It takes you a good thirty seconds to quit convulsing, and your mouth stays wide open as you pant. Your chest is heaving so much we wait another minute, and then one more. But that's all.
Gently, we slide into your armpits. You look shocked, and scared. Two of us get into position under your knees. And we start fingering -
Wild. You just go wild. Absolute frenzy. Out of your head. The mattress lifts up, stuck to you, as you try to leap out of your ropes. Over and over.
Though with far less energy, you're still mindlessly laughing when the sun goes down. Pouring sweat.
We see no reason to quit now... so we keep tickling you, all over, until the room is completely dark.
Early in the morning, your third day with us...
You shift, and grimace. Groaning, except it's no louder than a sigh. You blink a few times, and look at the wall. Glance down, look around, behind you - at your bed. You're not tied to the bed. Your head whips around, and tilts down -
But the stocks grab your attention. Thick mahogany, blackened steel bands fortifying the hard wood. Wide iron frame supporting the stool under your butt and the staggered panels with the four holes. Padded leather gripping your trapped limbs.
You stare, and tug hard. You don't move. Your feet shift the least little bit, and the cords around your toes keep them nicely spread.
You're all prepped for another day of hysteria. It looks like you don't quite believe it, even as you try to get free. Just can't be happening, huh?
Tomorrow you'll get to stay in bed again. Face down. We bring water and food up to you...
And after you eat we'll make sure you have another long, hilarious day.
22nov00