Out behind the roadhouse, smokin' a joint in peace...
Hands curl around my sides. But nobody else is out there.
Boom!
Electricity / seizure / world turning over and around.
I realize I'm laying on the ground about six steps from the door. Frazzled.
"Wow. You've got it bad," a guy's voice says.
"Huh?"
"Tough son of a bitch, coming unglued when I do... this."
Eager fingers. Sides, chest, belly... and my fuckin' knees.
Boom. Again.
Tickling. Oh no, oh no, get away from the hands, do it now. Can't laugh loud enough. The jukebox is loud - hell, I bet no one's gonna hear me unless they happen to step outside.
Then my laughter is softer, somehow. Muffled.
Cloth. Between my teeth. I wonder, distantly, if it's my own bandanna from my pocket.
Legs not moving right -
Manage to squint at my arms. They're together - and they're staying that way.
Rope? Aw, hell.
"I don't need anybody else knowing about this," the voice chuckles."You're just too ticklish to let go."
Go crazy. Fight!
But I'm lifted up. In the air. Hogtied, in front, and yelling into the damn gag when I can sneak that in between impressive fuckin' laughter.
Floating / carried...
Past a few houses.
One at the end of the street is dark. Forgotten.
Fuck. Not in there. No!
Click - a flashlight.
This is a nightmare. Bed with cuffs at the corners. Sling and other chains here, stocks there.
Bars on the window.
"Way too ticklish," the voice chuckles.
I get set down on the bed.
As soon as I start to roll off -
Boom.
Goin' out of my mind. Roaring into the damn gag.
Throwin' myself around... less.
The gag is pulled.
Panting. I go to roll over - but it's not gonna happen.
Cuffed... down. Spread wide.
My fuckin' clothes are gone!
"This biker's too reactive," the voice says. Happy, and sorta mocking. "Of all the crazy shit, huh? Got it reee-eal bad."
"Aw, fuck this. Lemme go... I was just gettin' high, and -"
"Hey, I got bodacious weed here for ya, and plenty of it."
"Not... okay. This ain't me." The urge to yell that nobody has my permission for this shit is hard to tamp down, but it's time to fight the leather pinning my wrists, as hard as I can.
But the cuffs are holding.
I know what that means.
"My favorite thing to do."
"No -"
Aw, shit, there's more hands.
Boom-Boom.
It's much worse now that I can't roll around.
Screeching laughter, barking, howling. Trying to pull my arms free. Or bounce. Arch.
Gripping my thighs now, and my calves. Insane!
Still chuckling, a long time after the hands finally pull off.
I'm a goner. Strapped down. Secret room. With stocks over by the wall! How many guys...
"Listen," the voice says. "Tell me which bike is yours, and I'll hide it here."
"You knock this shit off!"
"Or else, well..."
I strain at the fuckin' cuffs. "You're not gonna stop," I say. Just amazed.
"Lots more fun comin' up. No one's gonna find out. Which bike?"
"Oh... no."
"Which ride, laughing boy?"
After thinking it over, I told the truth.
"Good job... you ticklish scumbag."
Boom!
Panting.
Unbearable. Twenty, thirty minutes. And it can just dig in again whenever it wants. So screwed.
"Crazy, isn't it? You just lose your shit. Can't stop me..."
"Lemme outa here!"
"Helpless. And you're not used to that, right? Staying down so I can tickle the fuck out of you again, and again, and again."
"Nooooooo..."
"Aw, yeah. Big laughs tonight. Hard laughs. All night, fucker. Then I'll try going deeper - intense he-man tickling, and you can't do a damn thing that'll get me to stop. Howl your head off - I'm the only one who's gonna hear you."
One hour drags into the next.
The fucker's creative. Exploring everywhere. That goes on and on 'cause it added a few more straps. My toes are caught too. I'm going out of my mind and the bastard's really set on this now, chuckling and sighing.
Using brushes. Oil. Lots of gloves. Insane fuckin' fingers.
I can't do a damn thing except lay here and roar.
The sun's coming up.
This has been a longer break. I need a fuckin' cigarette -
"Aaaa-and your bike's in the kitchen." Satisfied chuckling... "Hidden nice and safe. Rough night, huh? I should cut you a break now. At least let you get some sleep -"
Sinister cackling!
"But no, dude, nope, we're gonna laugh as your first day here breaks. First week - full of tickling. Count on it."
The gloves grab me everywhere.
"Yeah!"
So crazymaking...
I feel something press against my face. Finally rally enough to look -
It's the sheet.
The asshole flipped me over. Then it got the cuffs and the straps back on -
"Don't," I groan, squirming as much as I can.
Boom.
03jan23