Incident Report
by
Storytella3000
Part 2
After some time had passed, all the Q-Tips and leaves stopped and pulled away. Phantom tickling sensations continued all over my body as my skin adjusted to the sudden lack of stimulation after being tickled so long. Finally, my t-shirt pulled itself back down over my torso. Then, the driver's door window rolled down a bit and unseen hands pushed my feet inside. The door opened, and I was pulled a bit across the driver's seat, again by those unseen hands, then turned so I was facing forward. I had no idea where I was, but I knew I couldn't have been too far away from White Plains; I could even have still been in White Plains.
Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, rope lowered itself in front of my face and wrapped around my wrists, tying them together in front of me as a van approached us from behind. I expected the van to pass, but it never did. I tried to turn to look, but as soon as my head began to move strong unseen hands turned my head until I was facing front again. Still more pieces of rope wrapped around my ankles, pulling them together and immobilizing them.
After all this, I should have been terrified, and part of my brain was in fact terrified, but it seems that more of me was watching all of this happen, in wonder as to what would happen next.
I heard what must have been the van door opening next to the car. I tried to turn again, but was still unable to. I started struggling against the bonds holding me, and against the hands keeping me from looking to the side, but the ropes wouldn't give an inch, and a dark cloth was wrapped around my eyes. Dread started building up again... was something bad about to happen? Why was I being blindfolded? What (or who) was being kept hidden from me?
Then... there was nothing below me. There was this feeling of floating, and then a car door closed behind me. It was a very familiar sound... my own car door? I tried to maneuver my hands up toward my face to shift the blindfold, but as soon as my arms started moving, hands caught them and held them in place as more rope wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. In moments I felt something like a rug or carpet under me, and then the sound of two doors closing. Van doors? There was a bit of echo and vibration along with the thud of those doors closing...
I heard what I knew to be my own car starting up, and a split-second later the the vehicle I was in started up, and
as it pulled off my blindfold was removed...
I was in a van or truck of some kind. One overhead light illuminated a windowless cargo area, completely separated from the driver's compartment and with no way to see or know where I was being taken. I could feel the bumps in the road, as well as turns and shifts in traffic, but other than that I was in the dark about where I was headed.
Invisible hands grabbed each of my ankles and anchored them to the carpeted cargo floor, and more hands pinned my shoulders. Then, the light went out as a fingertip began tracing up and down the sole of my left foot. I tried to shift my foot to avoid the tickler, but the hands holding my ankles tightened their grip and wouldn't let me move. Another fingertip began tracing up and down my right sole, alternating its movements with the finger on my left foot so that one dragged down when the other went up. More individual fingertips began doing the same up and down my legs, behind my ears, at almost random locations and intervals.
It was mind-boggling, both the sensations I was being given as well as the idea of all these fingertips. How many of these "ticklers" were there, anyway? There were no groups of fingertips together, as if someone were dragging a hand over my skin, but at least a dozen different individual fingertips were working on me. I could see that I would hurt myself trying to make sense of what was going on, so I gave up and just "went with it." Or tried to, anyway, because it wasn't long before I was close to delirious from all the sensation I was being fed.
After some time, I have no idea how much, the van came to a stop. The hands holding my ankles and shoulders let go, and I rose into the air as the van's back doors swung open. I floated free of the van, finding myself in the air over a circular driveway in front of a mansion in a thoroughly unfamiliar area. I looked around, and wasn't as surprised as I should have wanted to be to see my own car parked behind the van. I tried to place my surroundings in a vain attempt to get my bearings, but it was useless. I had no idea; in fact, without seeing any of the trip that had brought me there I didn't even know if I was still in Westchester.
I continued floating through the front door, which swung open by itself and closed itself behind me. I wafted through the house and down a flight of stairs, coming to rest flat on my back in the middle of someone's recreation room. There were exercise machines, games, electronics, and whatnot all over this room, the size of a small gymnasium.
"Hello?" I called out hoarsely, just then realizing that it was the first time in a couple of hours that I had even tried to speak. I don't know why I chose that moment to start trying to make some kind of contact; no one had made any effort to communicate with me, so I don't know why I expected any answer, but I figured it was at least worth a try. At the same time, I really wasn't sure why I had stopped trying to communicate with whoever had taken control of my car. After all, cars don't drive themselves, so someone had to be behind it.
There was no answer, but the hem of my t-shirt started to shift, as if it were being picked at. Then, just like my outer shirt had earlier, the front of the t-shirt ripped right up the middle. I was rolled over, and then I could hear more ripping behind my head, which I guessed was the back of the shirt being ripped open as well. Then, each half of the shirt ripped up the sleeve, from hem to collar. I could feel the pieces being pulled off me just before I was rolled back over on my back.
The torn halves of my ruined t-shirt just hung there in the air above me. Every so often one or the other would dip a little, as if trying to make contact with me... or trying to build anticipation. It worked. I started to feel a peculiar tickle or itch in anticipation of the show I was sure was coming. And again, I started cackling, with my voice just now beginning to come back.
One of the pieces of the t-shirt lowered to my chest and v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y began dragging back and forth. I went ballistic, flopping around like a fish out of water, all the while hooting and yelping. Then, unseen hands began to press down on my shoulders and ankles, holding me steady as the t-shirt began making more passes back and forth on my torso. I howled voicelessly, futilely fighting against the hands that were holding me down. I stared at the t-shirt in a mix of dread and wonder, and I guess it showed on my face. The rope holding my forearms at my sides loosened and slid towards my head enough to allow free movement of my arms. I reached up and grabbed one of the floating halves of the t-shirt with both hands, and was able to see that it wasn't hanging from anything...? I balled up the cloth, as if squeezing water out of it, only for a small pinch of fabric sticking through my fingers to start pulling up as if trying to remove itself from my hand. I loosened my grip without letting go and watched in disbelief as it squeezed itself through the space between my hands and rose into the air again.
The pieces of the shirt began dragging back and forth across my chest again, but this time they got some help. More unseen hands began to very lightly graze their fingertips up and down my legs. Again, I started whipsawing back and forth, trying in vain to avoid the tickling touch of the invisible fingertips. In short order the t-shirt was tossed aside as the tickler(s) saw that the fingertips were getting more of a reaction than the t-shirt had gotten. But for some reason, the tickling stopped shortly thereafter. I began worrying about what would happen next: more tickling, or something... less pleasant?
I felt the ropes on my wrist begin to loosen their hold; I watched as the rope around my wrists untied itself, only for my arms to be pulled up above my head but away from each other. Hands unseen clamped onto each wrist, holding them steady. Then the same happened to my ankles; the ropes untied themselves only for unseen hands to take hold of each ankle and pull them apart until I was lying spread-eagled on the ground. I expected more hands to take advantage of my lying there, open, ripe for the taking, but before any more tickling started, I began rising into the air...
For about five minutes, I rose very slowly until I stopped about two feet off the floor, and in that time the ticklers
did nothing but tightly hold onto my wrists and ankles. I looked around, but didn't see any movement. I also noticed, for the first time, that there didn't seem to be any smells, or any sounds of breathing, or any of the cues that would tell me something about my tickler(s). For the first time since this whole ordeal started, I really started to panic. "Haaalllp!" I yelled. "Help me somebodeeeee!! Heeeey!"
But two more minutes of yelling and hollering didn't snag anyone's attention. All kinds of worst-case-scenarios began running through my mind, and in short order one of them came true.
Feathers drifted into the room, about level with where I was floating. The tickle-itch of anticipation started spreading all over my exposed skin as I waited for the inevitable to begin. The feathers seemed to take forever to come to rest in the air around me, as if waiting for a signal. I'm sure whoever or whatever was behind all this knew what I was going through, pulling out all the stops to heighten the feeling of expectation, and it worked. The combination of excitation and dread made the waiting almost painful, as if I was expecting the feathers to beat me instead of tickle.
One feather, the one hanging closest to my navel, dipped and dragged its tip ever so lightly in a circle surrounding my navel. The hands holding me still prevented me from thrashing around as I would have otherwise, so all I could do was wiggle around in the air, and that seemed to trigger the other feathers to take positions at various points on my body, which was completely exposed except for the briefs I was still being allowed to wear. Added to this was the presence of more hands, besides the ones holding my wrists and ankles, dragging their fingertips and nail tips along the hair on my shins, the back of my knees, the back of my neck, and that tricky spot by my right ear that I mentioned earlier.
Then, another surprise... one of the unseen hands hooked a finger into the waistband of my briefs and pulled up on it, while another hand began to fondle what lay inside. What soft and warm hands they were! "Sssstop!," I protested weakly, knowing that I really wanted the request to be ignored. Then there were two hands, one keeping Mr. Johnson standing at attention while the other played with the couple downstairs. The position of the second hand seemed just about impossible; it seemed to be reaching from below, yet nothing had reached through the leg-holes of my underwear. Again, I had to turn off logical thinking about what was happening and just go through it, and hope I would live to tell about it.
A few feathers began teasing my inner thighs... ecstasy! I started involuntarily reacting to the groin feathers, but as soon as I started all the groin-area tickling stopped. They started this stop-start tickling pattern that I thought would drive me crazy. I groaned loudly, and in response I felt unseen lips softly kiss my chest, directly in the center. I raised my head to look, and saw no one else in the room with me. The feathers that had been tickling me were still hanging over me, waiting their chance, and fingertips were still playing with my legs and feet, but I didn't see any trace of them. I sighed, and just then unseen fingers straightened my head so I was looking up at the ceiling. Lips again kissed me right in the middle of my chest, and slowly worked their way up my chest, over my chin, to my lips.
I had the singularly disorienting sensation of being tongue-kissed while seeing that there was no one there. I didn't sense any breathing, there were no smells, no sense of a body leaning over me... it was as if I was tongue-dancing with a free-floating, self-directed mouth.
Make that mouths. While the first kept my mouth busy, a second and third began licking my nipples while a fourth and fifth began licking the crease behind my ears... talk about your sensory overload!!
On to Part 3
Back to Part 1
14nov2001