Den pulled up to the house, and wished his cousin would come out the door. It had been almost a week since he'd finished off a pack of smokes, and longer since he partied. The thought came out of nowhere, and so much for his plan to behave himself.
He was gonna be nineteen soon, in six or seven weeks, but he had a rep for being pretty naïve. Why the hell did he waste a Saturday coming down to his aunt's place anyway? Weird idea -
"Yo. Den. You made it. Hiya."
He looked toward the porch, where the voice had come from. Nobody was there. Well, nobody with a body...
This should be scary, or creepy, he thought. I've heard about this. The details weren't coming to mind - but hearing that voice, and not just in dreams, had happened before. It was Aunt Lou's weird neighbor who was invisible. No other houses in sight, though... but it didn't beat Gene up or anything, so Den decided he was thinkin' too much.
What was the wild phantom's name again?
A-ha. "That's just gotta be Nink," he said, grinning as he opened the car door.
Well, here we go. Stay cool, he thought. It didn't jump him with chains or anything. Gene liked his drugs, but he had some really bizarre stories...
Maybe it was a good thing that his memory was fuzzy right about then. He had no reason to be afraid. His cousin was cool.
"Sure is. Nobody's home, buddy. You could wait around, I guess."
"Uh-huh," he chuckled, digging for a cigarette...
Right after he exhaled his second drag, Den glanced down at his shirt. Yup, he had a pack of Winstons right there. Alright. He was set, for now.
When the hell did he buy those, anyway? Wasn't he trying to quit?
"I'm pretty sure they went to Tallahassee," Nink said. "About an hour before you rolled up."
That made him pause. It could be a while before they returned. "Aw, crap," he finally groaned. "I was gonna call Gene - and I forgot to, before I left."
Easy snickering. "Call him now."
"They're not gonna hurry back. I think I'll just head home."
"Huh. You drove all this way... from where, again?"
"Valdosta. Just south."
"Whoa. You didn't tell 'em that you were gonna show up now?"
"Guess not."
"Huh. Your folks know that you came down, right? Way out in the sticks."
Den took another tug, shaking his head. "They don't care. I'm eighteen now."
"Good man," the mysterious jokester said.
Next thing he knew, Den was cruising down the highway.
Cigarette between his fingers, a slam-core song cranked up on the car stereo, and the open longneck of Jax between his legs just felt right.
"Keep it under seventy," Nink said into his right ear. "The coast is clear. No fuzz."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm magic."
"Uh-huh." He smirked and brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. It was weird that he didn't remember leaving his aunt's place.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Party," the voice shot back.
Gene has stories that started like this, Den thought. "Hey," he said to the windshield, "I'm the one gettin' hauled off this time."
"You were the one who was there to haul off," the voice growled, ending with a chuckle or two. "So you're gonna get baked."
A weird thrill shot through him. "Alright."
Then he was walking through tall weeds. There was an old cabin maybe fifty yards ahead. He looked behind and finally saw his car, parked way under some trees.
"Did you tell me to park back there? Hide the car?"
"I don't want anybody knowing," Nink said. "No tattletales."
"Oh. Okay."
A sudden impulse seized him just as he got to the door. Another smoke, right now.
So excellent, he thought, sucking in...
"Right this way," Nink chuckled. The door opened in front of him.
In he went. It shut and locked tight. That puzzled him for a second - but Nink had said it didn't want anybody knowing. Seriously cool party shit, maybe. Odds were real good it had more smokes.
Low light clicked on. Den saw furniture in the living room... that was really weird.
"We were goin' to a party," he said.
"Soon. Look at this shit first. Bondage," Nink teased. "All different kinds. You like it?"
"Not really my thing."
"How do you know?"
Something wasn't quite clicking, here, but he figured there had to be booze coming his way, and the decent weed, so whatever -
Another thought suddenly hit him. It was a warm day, so he pulled off his t-shirt, and kicked off the sandals. Took a drag.
"Den," the enigma said, "try out that mattress. It's incredible."
It was large, with a shiny red sheet. He was intrigued. "I'm not tired."
"It's the most comfortable thing around here."
He shrugged, inwardly, and went over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge, Den wondered what that clean red cloth was... Ah, satin, that's right. So shiny. It felt good. He went with a crazy impulse to show off a little. Smartass remarks were probably coming, but he grinned and pulled off the rest of his clothes.
Spreading out on his back, limbs wide, snuggled against the cool material. It felt too good. He moaned, but kept it quiet.
A lighter was rasping to life. Just like that, there was a new cigarette between his lips, and a blue disposable lighter hung nearby all by itself. He took a light and sucked in, nodding his thanks...
"Let's see if these things are stronger than you are," Nink taunted.
Thick leather cuffs cruised up, and one headed for each of his wrists.
"Nuh-uh," he chuckled.
The restraints paused. "Oh, you gotta be curious."
"Gene told me about you."
"What did he tell you?"
Den remembered a little more. He had to laugh. "Aw, he was shitfaced. All these invisible hands. Party, and then some, with Nink."
"To party, that guy says he's gotta be strapped down?" A cuff floated to his right wrist.
Time to go. He started to roll, to his right.
Nink laughed. Definitely happy.
"Didn't Gene tell you I'm stronger than he is?"
Hands he couldn't see landed on his arms. The restraint moved faster - and another one came to his left wrist, dammit.
"Yeah. I didn't come here for this," he complained.
The cuffs opened, slid around, buckled good and snug. Wilder laughter. "Yeah, you did."
He pulled harder when so many straps arrived. Two caught the big flattened rings on each cuff - and pinned his fuckin' hands to the mattress. Nink got a grip on his shins... it was ankle-cuff time.
"This is not okay," he protested.
"Well, I say it is."
He looked at his cock. Not a stitch on, and Nink didn't strip me. Some bizarre excitement was in store -
"I don't know why I drove here today," he said, eating more smoke.
"Heh. You're staying now," it hooted.
More straps anchored his waist, biceps, thighs.
"There. Yeah," the enigma said, "Den's stuck tight."
"Yup."
"Wanna know why?"
Trying to remember the specifics of what Gene had admitted... wasn't working. Being pinned down by it didn't seem like a good idea, even if it was friendly and it got him beer and smokes. Something intense was gonna happen. "Thought you were just... wanting me to test 'em, or something," Den said, getting confused. Pulling at the damn straps felt familiar.
Nink laughed. "Nope. I win again."
"Win what?"
"You. Goofball. It's gonna be wall-to-wall fun."
That was a big, fat uh-oh. He tried to turn, to kick... "Again... You said 'again.' Did you catch me like th-"
"This is our third party. I made you forget the other ones."
He had no trouble believing any of that. "Why would you do that?"
"So you'd wander back down. You don't have to freak out and make me chase you to Atlanta or something. No need, today - aw, I got Den with me."
"You can make me forget stuff?"
"Oh, yeah."
Den had another creepy thought. "And make me do stuff."
Teasing, sinister laughter. No denial of that, he sighed. Ultra-weird, but there was nothing to make him panic yet. This wasn't the first time he'd been in fuckin' restraints, and this invisible maniac had been responsible. Something intense... with some high points? He'd staggered home each time. There were mindblowing dreams.
Whatever had happened before, Den was strapped down tight again. Locked door, nobody knew where he was...
But he'd lived through it, the other times. "Huh. You win."
"Again." It hooted quietly. There was no fake bullshit in that - Nink couldn't get enough.
"Dammit." Let me go, Den thought. The restraints were thick, and they looked pretty new. Oh, yeah, this was oddly familiar. Hell, the last thing Nink wanted was for him to leave. "Somebody's gonna hear me yell for help," he sighed.
That time, the enigma laughed pretty hard. "You ain't in Valdosta now, son. Waaa-aay out in the back-woods."
"So -"
"And you wanted to party."
Finally, he stopped pulling at the damn straps - and nodded.
"Am I talkin' about a quickie? Some piss-poor hour or two?"
"You got a different idea of 'party' than I do," he realized, moaning.
Shiny black gloves started coming from either side of the room. Six or eight pair.
Not again, he wanted to groan.
That came like a reflex - oh fuck, not this again! - but defining what 'this' meant was still beyond him. Magic, invisible hands filled 'em, but they floated so smoothly. Coming for me, uh-huh.
And boom, he was excited again! What the fuck?
"We're safe here. Nobody ever comes near this cabin," it teased.
Watching the gloves, Den remembered... that Gene laughed, a lot, when Nink pulled off one of these takedowns. Couldn't fuckin' move... for days!
"Laughing," Den barked suddenly, nodding again. "For real. Gene told me. You got me to drive all this way? Big ol' plans!"
He watched the gloves slow down, and curl their fingers. Tell me I'm readin' this all wrong, he wanted to beg. Nink said nothing. It was definitely ready... for something.
"I bet Gene knows that you snag me, too," he said to the closest satin glove, blown away. "And lots of other dudes?"
Low, confident snickering...
The other times Nink had pulled this shit was coming back to him. Intense details. No way it was just his cousin who got beaucoup-tickled. Aw hell, no.
Two insane captures.
Gene got it a weekend here, the better part of a week there, and said it started before he was driving.
These gloves were gonna be used... to tickle the shit out of him. It made him drive to his aunt's place - when nobody was around. Everything was all set now.
Wear him out, let him rest up, make him toke, do it again. Shit, there was no way to guess how many endless, mind-bending days Nink would keep its totally ticklish pal in bondage. He looked around at the other shit in the room, shaking his head. Stocks, dammit, that's what they're called. Those chains and straps are for hanging me up there...
The magic fuckin' hands started moving again. "C'mon and say it," Nink said happily. "Why I got you again."
He squirmed, kicking out smoke. Nink's restraints were more than he could even shift. "You are a son of a bitch."
"Naaaah. Saaaa-aay it. Why are you here now, dude?"
"I'm gonna laugh my ever-lovin' ass off. Stuck right here."
"Whoooo-oooh! A real party. Wall-to-wall fun. You could really stand to... cheer up."
At least he could make it wait. Frowning at the ceiling, Den took a long drag. "Not like that." But it hummed quietly. Den finally rolled his eyes. "Massive tickling," he said.
"Yeeeee-aah."
He had to gulp.
Low, happy laughter... that sounded kinda smutty. "If my captive didn't want a long fuckin' marathon of red-hot fun, I bet he'd seriously do some damage to the straps holding him down."
But he couldn't do shit. Same as the other times, it had him laid out too damn well. Wide-open...
And watching glove after glove line up with his most ticklish spots. Way too familiar. Rockin' on and on -
I'm gonna lose my fuckin' mind this time, he thought, here it comes. Sure, he knew that worry, but he came around right quick after it let him go.
Was it gonna tickle him longer this time?
"C'mon, don't," Den begged.
The cigarette was pulled from his lips.
"Psycho... party," Nink said. One more happy sigh -
Fuckin' animated gloves jumped on him.
"You gotta... soooo hoooh hoooh hoooh haaaaw saaaaw ss-ssstop hah haaaah hah hah," he rasped.
Nink made a tsk-tsk sound, laughing along with him. It wasn't going to stop. Delirium, he thought. Its gloves had been tickling him all over, the sun had gone down, and now he was even more sensitive.
"Completely... helpless," it teased.
He cackled harder.
Nink's fascinated intangible hands knew exactly where and how to move the satin fingers. It remembered... exactly the deepest way to provoke his thighs, and his neck, and his belly, and his knees. Shins, back, ears, hips - aw, hell, between his fingers. Fuckin' elbows.
"Pleeee-heee-heee-eee aaaw haw haw haw nnnnaaaaw huh huh huh huh," Den chortled. "Nuh huh hah hah hah aaaaahh hah haaaaaah hah hah huh huh hoooo nuh nnn-nnuh no more, no muh haw haw haw haw haaaawww..."
Fingertips danced over his nipples, in his pits, under his balls.
He couldn't do a single fuckin' thing about Nink.
The night was nowhere near half over. Den giggled, and thrust, trying to roll around. His only hope was to get away from his captor's magic hands - somehow - because nobody knew what was happening to him, and the tickling definitely was gonna start back up tomorrow, and the day after that...
Uh-huh. He couldn't even shift his feet or arms or torso much at all. Nink made real sure of that.
It was so damn clear that he wasn't running out on the tickler. Den realized, as he had a few times before, that it had more straps and chains. The stocks were waiting for his ankles.
For now, he'd stay pinned. Utterly helpless.
It would "party" longer this time. He was sure of that now. Remembering that the start of the second or third day, in his dreams, had been so amazing... and he was even more baffled by the idea of Nink celebrating the start of month number two. Extended tickling for ol' Den, right here. Who would ever believe this shit happened to him?
He squealed for a few seconds. "Duh huh huh duh ddd-on't, aw don't, pleeee-hee hee hee hee huh huh huh d-don't, hallllp-puh huh haw haw nuh huh huh aaaaw pleeeEEEeee hee hee heh heh heh heh heh no-oooo hoh hoh huh huh huh..."
Nothing he could do was gonna stop Nink.
It turned up the heat all over his soles.
That was enough to overload him, on the outside. Squirming and laughing was too much work.
His breathing calmed down.
A water bottle came to his lips... and then a cigarette. This had to be the third pack the phantom had forced on him. Den had gotten him this derailed the other times too. It knew how to push him far enough so that he couldn't move or howl.
Dammit, Nink.
It would mock him again soon. Aw, this captive is barely getting warmed up! So much fun, Den, gonna make it last from now on, make it get more intense...
He coughed himself awake and hawked back the snot. Outside the window, the sun was way up. Den looked around his cell -
There was food, an unopened carton of smokes, and boxes of supplies along the wall... for unbelievable tickling.
The giggles started churning right out of him. Hysterical prisoner. The laughter settled into a cool-guy riff, because of some delirious memories. He snickered for the better part of a minute.
Nink stuck a cigarette between his lips.
There was no doubt about what it was gonna do today. The same as last night, cranked up bit by bit. Same as a week from now, and... two weeks, and so on?
The damn straps still wouldn't move.
Nink was always careful, because it really wanted to keep the internal fun growing all day. It was so damn good at stoking the fire.
Den smoked hard. It would seem like a month from now when the sun went down. Hours after that, the magical sadist would finally take all of the energy he had. After he'd been put through his paces for as long as possible, Nink would clean him up and let him rest. Every morning brought it down on him again, no-holds-barred excitement that kept increasing...
It would cut him loose, but there was no reason to think that would be anytime soon. Den suspected he'd been in that damn cabin, or some other hidden dungeon, for a little more than a week - the last time Nink had a good ol' time on him? Right after the graduation party, maybe. Two snags, before the current nightmare... that Nink admitted to.
There had been a dream - which wasn't so imaginary anymore - when it had sounded so proud of him. Not just anybody could take more and more power-tickling. It was obviously hooked on this shit.
More smokes for Den? Hey, no problem. Restock the food, massage oil and tickle-toys - it would be all set for another month of this, just workin' him over right, and a third.
Easy, he thought, don't go there just yet.
The third morning, he scanned the room. Nothing new was there to be seen.
Den closed his eyes, groaning. A hoarse whispered groan. Here comes another impossibly long day, pulling out all the stops on him, everywhere.
Why didn't this ever get boring? More energy was tickled in, so deep, so many places, and he still had no idea how to follow it all...
A cigarette was tapped against his lower lip. He opened his eyes, took hold of it, and watched Nink magically float a lighter up to help him out.
Any minute now, that energy would cause gloves to fill out and flex, take hold, rub him all day. Unstoppable hands. Oiled, much more knowledgeable about his ticklish spots than he was... joined by animated brushes and feathers and buffers, so many different tools, eagerly working him over.
This tickling shit consuming him, second by second, until he could finally pass out again...
One morning, Gene was there. Caught in the stocks -
"Hangin' with the Riley boys," Nink said proudly. "Ticklish animals. I got great news."
"F-fuck," Gene snickered.
"What day is it?" Den groaned as loud as he could.
"You don't wanna know," his cousin sighed.
"Gene..."
He finally kicked out an answer.
The math was simple... but wow. It was a number that is even more unreal than the unbearable tickling that would pick right up again soon. This is day number nine.
"Nobody worries about us?" Den rasped.
Gene shook his head. "I bet you called 'em."
"What? I... Oh, shit. Yeah." He did talk to his mom, days ago. And Stan, his boss. Easy calls, with nothing big on his mind. Went to a concert and yelled too much, so now I'm hoarse. Shit, those casual conversations felt like they were years and years ago.
"Great news," the tickler repeated loudly. "I've been doing more research."
"On what?," Gene said vacantly.
"Den. He's worth a lot more attention. Gonna get his ass down to Dalkeith... heh, after we have our fun here, and then in a few other playrooms all over the Panhandle."
The guys looked at each other. Den fought not to cackle along with Gene. We sound so damn pleased with everything it does, he thought, when the laughs are tickled out of us.
"I had a job," Den said hollowly, squinting at his cousin.
"You still do. Stan pretty much sucks," the captor said, "and you told me you thought there had to be something better out th-"
"Better," Gene hooted.
"Your boss is a massive liar, Den. But hey, guess what - his stepson is a party-pal too! One of my peers can't get enough of him. Stan is big on working out, isn't he? The dude never expected to have a weekend... like his stepson knows sooooo-oo damn well!"
This can't be happening, Den thought yet again.
"Oh, yeah, to keep the hands away for awhile, and postpone the next marathon, ol' Stan is definitely gonna cover for his ticklish employee. He'll say he bought a couple other distributorships, and won't get 'em all under one roof for a while... so with a training course here, and hooking up new computers there, Den's gonna be on the road quite a bit. Hooray."
"Big... p-plans," Gene said, squinting at his cousin.
"Bigger," Den nodded.
"It gets so much better. Den and Gene have already called his mom. Hey, there, Aunt Lou, your nephew's got a few weeks before his new job duties start..."
"Weeks?" Den said to Gene. The older guy could only shake his head as he laughed.
"Hey, auntie, I got some free time, so your son and I are gonna get to Texas for awhile, while we can pull it off. Then you called your mom, and told her same thing! I may not have this chance again. She's fine, Lou's fine, Stan's glad to cover for you. You're reeee-eealy gonna get it, dudes. You'll check in from time to time, and sound like everything is just goin' great."
Gene had to wail and howl...
"A super-long p-party," Den sighed.
"My boys are worth it."
"Tuh... huh hah haaah heh huh huh... T-tons of jocks at FSU," Gene drawled. "Criminal-wannabes, too."
"Naw. I like it here. All of you. Thayer, Curran, the Williamson brothers - there's always somebody worth the time."
Gene's eyes were huge. "You haven't tickled Steve Curran. Like this."
"Oh, for years, buckaroo. A couple of my pals have dropped by every summer, and we've tried out damn near every lug around these parts. You don't talk about this shit with each other, huh? Kessler is on high-rotation. And Dale Jones has really got what it takes."
"Well, of course. They both... shit, they look like criminal lowlifes now."
"Lowlifes. This is coming from Gene, the raunch-meister," it laughed.
"Tim Jones - lookin' like his brother, already fucked too..." He panted, and saw Den's confusion. "Pastor's kids."
"Yeah, the Rileys get to see it all. It's time. We're going to have a lot more laugh-rooms, out in the middle of nowhere. Hidden asylums for you studs. Hell, there's plenty of fun dudes from all over. Ticklers gonna reel 'em in, heh heh heh, and we need... plenty of dungeons. A whole complex ain't enough, so we got ten of 'em just about ready to... confine you. Heh. And we don't have to watch the calendar at all, boys. I'll make you two forget what's on tap whenever I'm ready to reel you in again."
From the look on Gene's face, Den figured that Nink was saying... something new.
"Prisons," his cousin finally said.
22sep19