"Two mmm-months... to gaah hah hah hah!" Morton yelled, pulling as hard as he could at the chains. He shook his head and roared laughter. Fuckin' gloves tickling everywhere, the rooms and cells they carted him past were empty...
It was an old fuckin' jail. Big trees crowding all around it.
In the next hall, a door was opened. Old-time insane asylum door.
One wall of the cell was covered with shelves, all loaded up. Every kind of tool and toy for tickling, all kinds of oil, cock-toys.
They turned him and kept right on pushing those sensitive buttons. Wailing, he watched the door swing in.
His captors all but dropped him on a surprisingly thick mattress which covered most of the cell floor. They pinned him down. Stocks and a rack and chained slings were hung on the other wall. Morton hooted at them, trying to believe what was happening to him.
Alongside the mattress, cuffs and straps reached toward him. No hands - just like the ones pulling his clothes off. Then the restraints descended.
Pulling and cussing did him no good at all. Spread wide, naked as a jaybird... and the reason for that had been made real fuckin' clear.
When he tried to slam down, and got nowhere, he gave up. Cussing quietly, catching his breath -
A clipboard floated out of the corner, stopping over his junk.
The next thing he saw coming was incredibly great, even if it made no sense at all here - a carton of cigarettes, torn open, with one pack sliding out. A plain silver Zippo came, being tested as an invisible hand brought it over.
He got two or three badly-needed drags...
"Samuel James Morton," a guy said - younger dude, maybe sorta amused? - "you have violated your probation."
"In Texas," he said. "Eight weeks left."
"Nope. This is a special penalty program."
"Why the hell does Nevada let this outrageous tickling bullshit happen to guys from other states who break their probation?"
"No need to bother anybody else." The fucker snickered quietly. "System's overloaded as it is. You'll be incarcerated right here."
He looked at a shelf buried with gloves. All kinds. "No way."
"I've got you. All the doors between here and the outside are locked again. Got plenty of food. And some dude-fun for ya. Beer - yeah? A little weed. Heh, well, okay, a lot of weed. All kinds of drugs to crank up your... sensitivity. Cartons of smokes, and I don't take no f-"
"Tickling? Fuck!"
"You broke the law, Morton."
"Eight more weeks," he complained.
"Not now. Ohhhh no, dude. You got it bad."
"I do not."
"Try to get your mind wrapped around this. Probation is over. Revoked. I'm gonna punish you for a lot longer than eight weeks. I've got friends that can absolutely clear your violation, and fix your sheet. Total hackers. They know the Texas system, since we've caught other offenders. Everything will be all squared away with the Department of Criminal Justice."
"A lot l-longer?" he groaned.
"You bet your ass! Disciplinary penalty. Gonna cost ya. Salvagable offenders like yourself? But it takes time. Heh heh. Our inmates get into tattoos, just like in traditional prisons, but Morton also needs a whole lot of fuckin' incentive to think right."
"Tattoos?"
Low snickering. "Sound good? I don't care. You're an inmate now. There's five others here. You'll meet 'em eventually. You'll see. We got our eye on ten or twenty other, heh, prospects."
"You run a prison, and they just let you do it. This kind of p-punishment?"
"Maybe you were so out of it, getting the shit tickled out of your hide at three in the morning, that you don't remember much of the Jeep-ride out here. Closed-down satellite prison, out in the sticks. Ignored for thirty or forty years. There's not even paved roads now. Aw, you're a long ways from Aurora, inmate."
The clipboard was set against the door.
"You hungry?"
"Don't do this to me."
"I'll take that to be a 'no, not yet, you fuckin' tickle-addict, but later on...'" It laughed and laughed -
Gloves lifted off the end of the shelf. Red satin. Five, ten... closer to twenty!
"Smoke while you can," the phantom suggested, pretending to pull the gloves over big ol' hands.
31dec22