Back to Part 1
Hey. You up?
Take a look.
You like? They're made to order.
Oh, fuck yeah. Look at 'em. Darker than the walls... no, wait, it's the finish. It's duller than the satin. And they sure are thick, aren't they?
These are the real deal, Steve. See, there's some stocks that are just for looks. Reproductions. Old-style stocks. And then, there's stocks that are really supposed to keep somebody trapped...
But most of 'em aren't worth shit. There's some interesting designs, but they're only gonna do the job if the captive's playing along, and if he doesn't thrash too hard. I had to hunt around for these.
They're definitely gonna hold you.
The angles are figured real carefully. Where your hands should be, with your legs way out. How to position the butt-straps so you can sit there all day. All week...
I wanted real durable stocks. Obviously. And something you could be stuck in and not get sore. I mean in your bones and shit, dude. No stiff neck when you're locked in these babies. Your feet will be up, just enough, so your legs don't fall asleep, or cramp up. And the wrist-holes are tapered -
Aw, these are gonna work out so great!
I'm gonna take your smoke away, and tickle you real hard for a couple hours. I want to get you worn out, so you can't lift a finger, and put you in those stocks. Lock 'em down.
So let's get you some oil.
Stare at 'em all you want. Can't blame you for that. They're incredible.
I got 'em for you.
No more big white pills. Nope. You don't need 'em now. They're antibiotics.
You take your vitamins... a little speed, later on. And that's it. I have a feeling I'll like the effect of the testosterone patches on ya. Not as much as you'll probably like the Marinol. That's pot, Steve. The active ingredient from good pot, in a pill. THC.
Why save 'em for later? Put 'em off? Fun shit like that? Because I know you're a healthy captive. You were healthy, before. Strong. And you're still not flagging.
You've adapted, buddy. I think maybe your immune system likes the tickling... fuckin' thrives on it.
A lot of guys take to it, if they're handled correctly. The other guy - that is, if I had somebody like Iggy cuffed down, in his room... I had my doubts. But let's assume he sailed past the two-week mark too.
I was sure about you right away. Oh, yeah. Throw a couple antibiotics down ya, and we're good to go. This far along, and you're not worn down from all the tickling. Still kickin' ass. If a captive can't cut it, I know well before now. And if they make it this far, like you did... They'll just keep on feeling more and more of what I want to dish out.
Your innards are used to the tickling, Steve. Even expecting it.
Whatcha thinking about?
No, wait, let me answer that one for you. With these. Here you go, buddy.
That's it. Crazy... Steve's buckled down to his mattress. Hours and hours of fun yet to go.
I think I'll tickle your sides.
Yes indeed. This is hardcore.
You're concentrating so much more than you used to... So let's just add some feathers for you to track. Way down there.
Arch. Arch real hard. I got you more of these cuffs. You know why? I'll bet you don't.
Do you know how long you've been here? Any idea?
Tomorrow, it'll be five weeks.
Enough tickling for you?
I say... no. Not by a long shot.
I'm in a real good mood. The power's still on. You ever wonder about that, dude? Why the power's still on? Why the landlord hasn't shown up and looked down here?
You ever heard of Webremit? Didn't think so. Ig never told you, I guess. He paid all his bills with it. All his bills, Steve. I got his passwords...
And I did something nice for ol' Iggy. That's just the kind of intruder I am. If it wasn't for me, I think an eviction notice would be heading this way, sooner or later. But not now.
One thing - well, heh, another thing - I know how to do real well is hack. And I've been busy. One busy intruder. Motivated... Now don't think I'm complaining, 'cause I'm not. I don't know how I could've possibly picked a better place than this one. Great timing.
Oh. The bills. Well, I've been bringing in the mail, so nobody starts wondering. I've even taken out the trash every week. We can't have any of the neighbors wondering where Iggy went. And, believe me on this, you don't want the kind of trash you guys make laying around inside. It really reeks.
So I got Iggy's bills, and his Webremit account. All he needed was money. Five grand was enough, to start.
I paid everything. I even paid the rent a month ahead.
Isn't that a hoot?
Did you know, Steve, that the guy who owns this house lives out of state? Isn't that perfect? He sends e-mail to Iggy. Iggy e-mails him back...
From what I can see, he doesn't come around here much. Iggy replaced the hot water heater himself, last year - you remember that? - and mailed him the bill. The landlord, he sent another e-mail and thanks Ig, and reduced the next month's rent by that much. The guy never calls. Nothing in the e-mails about hey, I'm thinking of selling the place, or I'm gonna stop by and see how you're taking care of my house.
Your buddy moved in here almost four years ago. I don't think the owner's been by here more than once. And get this, dude, it's a five-hundred-mile drive for him, and from what I read in the e-mails his back has been giving him more grief lately...
Nobody calls Iggy anymore. That first couple weeks, his boss kept trying. His stepmom. Some drunk guy named Raleigh called once, and a woman with a real sexy voice. Leeta? Lena. Something like that. Too bad Iggy didn't check his messages.
I changed the phone number, and that put a stop to the calls.
The mailman, the lawn care guy... the meter reader... a couple salespeople. Jehovah's witnesses, one time. Nobody came to the door to greet 'em, of course. I was busy. You know. There's the trash truck, but those dudes never even set foot on the driveway.
I've kept you here for five weeks - and nobody knows. Still.
Isn't that a trip?
The neighbors keep to themselves 'round here. If I keep quiet, and the lawn gets mowed, they don't care. They don't stick their nose where it doesn't belong. I guess the mail carriers are trained, maybe. Look for clue that maybe somebody, oh, I don't know, is stuck in their tub. Shit like that. But I keep bringing the mail in like clockwork, and move the doormat around a little.
I even took a broom and swept off the front steps. Twice. And the walkway. I guess it's working. The place looks enough like somebody lives here. If it snows, dude, you can be sure I'll shovel it off the driveway before the sun comes up.
And dude... Oh, yeah, when I rub your thighs and your crotch like this, I'd definitely say you're among the living. The wild life for ol' Steve, here.
I think I'm going to drop another five grand in Ig's account. Why not? I got a story all ready to go. Hey, mister landlord, I got an inheritance. And I've always wanted to do this... So I'm sending you a couple more months' rent, up front. If that's okay. And I think it will be.
Yeah, I don't think there's a chance in hell we're going to see the landlord use his key. And you're gonna be a wild man in your basement.
Life is getting a lot wilder for you.
You just don't know when to quit. I like that in a captive...
Now this rack, up against the satin on the wall, is just beautiful. Mr. Universe couldn't get down off this thing. The way it supports your ankle-cuffs, here - and these pads.
I never get tired of seeing you up here, smokin' away.
And you know what these are for...
Hold on to it. Don't you drop another cigarette on my gloves. I -
Okay, then. You can smoke and feel this, and... this. Oh yeah, and these too! All at the same time. This is nothing.
You're still fun. I can't let you down now.
Okay. Hear me out. I keep looking at that empty bedroom... and it bugs me. Wasted space. I don't like it.
I've gotta be nuts, to think what I'm thinking. No way it'll ever work. But you know what? I would've said that about you. This cool place you've got here. You were a spur-of-the-moment thing, and now... look at you. Yeah. All that hair. Are you a guy or a girl? Strong as a locomotive. You smoke like one, too -
And you're feeling it more. That's the most important thing. More and more. I can tell. You're my favorite captive, Steve. Some other guys I could name, well... shit. They don't compare. You just suffer so much. It's like a drug, tickling you.
The chances of adding a third guy... and pulling it off. It's so crazy.
But if I could get somebody half as rewarding as you... Hell, a quarter as ticklish. In that bedroom...
I got the padding up. Blocked the window. Just to see what it would look like. I know, that's bullshit, but hey. Your old mattress is in there. This one supports your back a lot better, and your neck. It's deep. I know all you see is the sheets, already on. That ol' black magic. Satin magic for you... dude.
That spare room is off to a fine start. Another ticklish dude could be kept nice and busy in there.
All I'd need to do is get him in the front door, like you -
No, this is nuts. I can't do this. I mean... You wanna know the big reason why? It's you. I'm not going to shortchange Steve the wild-man. You're just too ticklish to waste. I'm not going to let a basket case like you get off easy...
Don't even think for a second that I'm dumb enough to cut you loose, just so I can try some... unknown dude. Untested.
Problem solved. I'm so good...
In order to spend more time with you, I got creative. Went out and found some great tools. Robots, buffers. They gave me some ideas, so I tried my hand at making a few things.
They work okay.
I tried 'em out upstairs. And that freed me up, Steve. It was like getting a couple extra hours every day... to nuke your armpits like this -
Oh, really? So you approve.
I get the new guy, strap him down real well. Oil him up. Position the spinning discs just right, and the belts. Set the robots around him. Damn, I really need more robots - right where they can get their little glove-tips on him. And I've got some foot programs that would totally kick your ass, Steve. Torso-programs.
It's a rush, watching the robots when I got the programs right. Watch 'em make a dude howl. Maybe add a couple more feathers on those sweaty nuts of his, while they rock on and on. They don't appreciate the results, but I do...
I get to be down here more, tickling and pumping, and I can rest easy.
Double the fun.
They backed off too much at first. I told 'em to stop and signal me if they weren't sure. I threw 'em every curve I could think of, updated the programs... and now I get to leave 'em to their work for the whole afternoon. They never fail me now. Instead of doing something wrong, they shut down and signal me. I even wrote a water program. Feed a dude, start 'em up, and they'll handle the rest breaks and the water bottles.
They're smart. Little intruder-drones. And I reckon that a guy who got tickled mostly by the robots would really shit bricks when I bulldoze him for a couple hours. See what I mean?
That's the only way I could take on another captive. If this works... and the neighbors keep their distance, like they have been - I'm gonna be set. No lie.
You got a real thing for cigars, now.
What? Yeah, I sheared you. No more long hair. It was getting in my way.
I don't think I can fit any more furniture in here. You've got the perfect collection. Custom tickle-furniture. It all looks good on ya, Steve. Around ya.
We're gonna really party tonight. You know what I mean. All night. I can amuse myself for hours - right here. Attacking these feet.
Oh yeah. Give it up, buddy, it's gonna happen. I'm feeling feisty. Victorious.
My luck's still holding. I don't believe it, but it is. You got no idea. With padding this thick, there's no way you'd hear...
I did it. Triple the fun.
He wasn't my first choice, but that's okay. I'm not disappointed at all now.
You never knew it, but there have been fourteen visitors to Iggy's place this month. Delivery guys. I order stuff, over the net, and tell 'em to leave it on the porch. Or just inside the garage - Hey, did you know I can order mattresses now, and never have 'em think it's weird to not see or talk to the buyer? It's perfect.
So I stocked up on toys. All the overnight delivery services. I brought 'em out three, four times apiece. Right there on the porch. I could've grabbed any of those animals - but I'm smarter than that. You know better than anyone that I play for keeps. Can't have the truck sitting out front. No evidence is gonna get anybody curious about ol' Iggy's house. Even hiding the truck wouldn't get this place off the list of scheduled stops, I guess.
No, I wanted my next captive to come back at night, and walk his ass inside. Like you did. I almost went fishing on the internet, but there were just too many variables...
So I figured that I was after a guy who wasn't too bright. Buff, I hoped. Not afraid of a few cigarettes, or a fifth of whiskey. You know how I like to see you feeling all that banzai tickling when you're drunk...
Free rent. Free food. Just c'mon in here.
I left 'em notes. And a picture - she's got a real nice set of tits, terrific legs. I stole the photo from a young stoner-dude two streets over, made me some copies...
Steve, buddy, I watched the perfect fucker show up here. Twice. Hauling mattresses up the driveway, all by himself, no problem. On the short side, and not bodybuilder material, but I could just tell he was lean and mean. Yeah.
There was a note waiting for him when he made the next delivery. This incredible hussy who lived right there, saying she'd been watching him. The way he moved. Oh, how she wanted to fuck his lights out. And the photo got him staring. All he had to do was come back to this house, after ten, and park on the next street. Let himself in. She'll be waiting. She absolutely, positively meant it. And, most important... don't tell a soul.
I want you so bad, and so on. Pure crap. You, or Ig, would've read it again and set it back down there. No thanks.
Mattress guy lit a cigarette and read the note again. Studied the picture. Maybe he was posing. Showing off. The dude even started another smoke. He was in no hurry to take off, I guess.
And I came real fuckin' close to pulling him inside. Whether it was the smart way to get him, or not... I had a real good feeling about him. Ticklish, and strong. He has what it takes to live above Steve's Place. Heh.
You know what? Mattress guy was so right that I got to know a lot about him. Fuck, I wanted him stretched out, in the spare room, watching a couple of satin fingers start to rub him right... here. Or here. Or around here - oh, boy. You like that, Steve? My little demo, here? Then I'm going to just keep it up. Yeah. Here you go.
I even picked a date to go to mattress guy's apartment and haul him back here. Risky, huh? The more I thought about him... I came down here and tickled you harder instead. I do my best thinking when I'm pulling out all the stops. You know it.
Even though I had stuff measured to fit my captive of choice, I kept my options open. Three days later, I reeled in a pizza guy.
You know how weird that is, right? Ordering pizza on the net. Paying in advance. Telling 'em, be sure to leave it on the porch. And don't knock. The rookies, the newer delivery people, they knocked anyway. But there's so much padding, where it matters most, that nobody inside here could notice.
Pizza guy is nineteen. Too skinny. I'm used to you, of course - and maybe somebody else who started out, uh, with a little extra flab. And the kid's got a high energy level, artificial or otherwise. But the important thing is that he took the bait. Yeah, He kept the note and the photo, and drove off...
Guess what. He walked back up the driveway, around ten-thirty tonight.
I unlocked the front door, nice and quiet. Cracked it open the least little bit.
He stood out front, there, and smoked real hard. I tell ya. He even took a shower before he came over. All ready to get some pussy. That dude was lookin' to get laid.
Laid out.
He put his hand on the doorknob. I had a dozen gloves and a bandanna all ready, above the door...
With a last big drag on that cigarette of his, he let himself in.
And the door, Steve - it seemed to take a full fuckin' minute to close. Hurry up, hurry up, shut it already! It was all I could do to keep from latching on to his ribs, under his coat. Right where he stood.
But it finally clicked shut. And I turned the locks.
Captive number three, reporting for duty. I was so fuckin' relieved. Got him. The door wasn't going to open now. I'd see to that.
He didn't even get a chance to yell before I jumped him. One whoop, like a startled dog - and I had the gag in there, tying down.
He's a thrasher. He hates it. Tickling. So I tickled him harder. Right there, by the front door. I tested him good. Took his shoes off. His coat, his shirt.
Overall, I was not disappointed. A captive in my hands is almost always better than one I haven't tickled yet. When I started on his feet, pizza guy just flipped out. He even made it up to the doorknob, yanking and tugging...
Within a minute or two, I was thinking up new tricks to play on him. Fifteen minutes more, and he was too wasted to fight me. So I slowed the action way down - and stood him up.
My gloves carried him out of the living room and down the hall, nice and slow... Iggy's room is padded now, too. I guess that won't come as a big surprise to my basement dude.
The pizza guy got closer and closer to his doom. I enjoyed that. A lot. The way he squirmed, and hooted, just knowing there was something at the end of the trip that he didn't want to see. But I had a good grip on him, and the future was only about sixty seconds away. He definitely wanted me to let go. Change my mind. Can you believe that? Him, getting me to stop tickling?
Oh, no. I escorted him to the door of his very own tickle-cave. Marched him inside. Very unwilling, buddy, let me tell you. But I didn't care. I made him go to his room.
When he was through the door - and I could slam the door anytime, if I wanted to - I turned on the overhead light.
Dig this. I got him a rack, too. It's ready and waiting. A full spread of restraints, around the mattress - and that sweet black satin, smooth as I am, already in place. The hanging straps - like yours, there - were installed. The stirrup-chair was in the corner. You know what a charge you get out of that puppy. Eight of my robots were ready, just waiting their turn.
Well, he looked around - and laughed harder. Almost hysterical. It was like a big ol' compliment Enormous eyes, Steve.
I shut the door behind him.
Got his shirt off, and his jeans. Cuffs on. He's down and delirious now.
It's so cool when they still hope they can escape me if they just thrash hard enough. As they laugh like maniacs, of course. You remember. Laughing so hard you just can't pull like you want. So much tickling, buddy. Making it impossible to plan. Am I right? So you dudes fight your restraints, more or less at random. They're only there to help me, and you want to break 'em. But if I allow you to do that, you might be able to cover an armpit for a few seconds, or a knee - until I anchor the offending limb back down...
Which I will do, Steve. Always. I stretch you out because I want you stretched out.
My leathers won't budge. Pizza dude's in a bad way, right about now.
But I'm not. I think it's fair to say I have never been this happy.
So let's spread the joy around... Steve.
Brace yourself.
You're gonna laugh - hard - right now, you ticklish son of a bitch.
Like that. Only harder.
Now.
I got news. Big news. Laugh along with me.
How's that, buddy? Do you have any idea how much harder I'm tickling you now, compared to that first night here? Iggy's bedroom. Start of a real good thing...
All these fingers, and I got you feeling it. Harder than ever. Let's see. I want you on your back. Flat on the sheets you like so much. Here you go.
Hold onto that. Smoke it. I'm gonna get you a lot more smokes. I may get you a whole case.
You catching on? No. Of course not. You're in your own ticklish world. Let me just... uh, hold on to your passport for a while. Stay in Steve's Place, it's a riot.
Cuffed. And spread. I'm going to oil you again... because you've got me in a mood to celebrate.
Fuck, I only thought I was happy, the night the pizza guy came here.
Oil for your feet. Yeah. Oh, it's gonna blow your fuckin' mind - the news I got. And I wanna absolutely celebrate on ya. Oil up every inch.
Here's some water. Dude, are you ever gonna need it...
And another smoke.
Now you got it. That's the look for you. Steve, of Steve's Place. Yeah. Just a couple more minutes. I'll be done oiling you. And then I'm going to tickle you harder than I've ever fuckin' tickled you before.
Such sensitive legs. Dangerously ticklish. And that cock of yours - well...
I like oiling your hips. Rub it into that frighteningly sensitive ass. Let's double up the oil there.
You just stay put, and I'll do you up right. Tummy. Ribs -
Cut it out. This isn't tickling. Get real. I'm just laying down the oil, which you like... so much.
Gotta pour it in your armpits...
Pecs, and neck, and face. Yeah. Oh, I'll work around the cigarette, don't worry about that. Up your arms, down your arms.
You know... I want an extra coat on your sides.
There.
All nice and slippery. Except for the cuffs. They aren't gonna budge, Steve. Have they ever?
Now I'm gonna get me the thick rubber gloves. The black ones.
I like the way you look at these. Perfect fingers. I know my fingerwork. You know it, from the other side.
You're going to get a whole lot more.
I still can't believe it! Do you know how many people have set foot on the property, here, since I intruded? Other than delivery guys. Or the gardeners. Non-invited people, you could say. Unexpected people.
Guess how many.
Eight.
That's not even one a month... Steve.
From what I can tell, none of 'em knew Iggy personally. None came back.
Nobody calls. Not one person is curious enough to get off their ass and come here. Peek in the windows, even. The living room and the kitchen look just the same. But I boarded over the bedroom windows, of course, with the miniblinds down. They look normal enough from the outside. No clue... all this tickling going on.
But nobody's come around here! Was Iggy that unpopular? I mean, you're his friend. A real buddy. You came over to check on him.
And stayed -
You're gonna stick around, Steve. Right here. Oh, yeah. I mean, why would you leave now?
Why would you wanna leave?
It's your house.
Yours...
It took me a while, but I talked the landlord into it. He sold it to Iggy - who turned around and sold it to you. He paid cash, you paid cash.
I opened a new Webremit account. Posing as you. It's only fair. You're the main reason I tricked it out like this.
You're that much fun, buddy, You really are.
All your stuff is already in the garage.
Yeah. It's been there since last winter. Every scrap of your life that I could find...
I have so much more tickling to put you through.
When I cleared out your apartment - hey, I held onto all the really valuable stuff. Yep. Then I pulled Iggy's truck out and donated it to a charity. Skin disorders, I think. You can appreciate that. They took an e-mail, and a written authorization - from Iggy, they thought - and I signed the title over. Ig's got his hands full. Well, his wrists, anyway.
Congratulations. I went to the state website and looked it up. The landlord's name is off the title, and so is Iggy's. The house is yours.
I smoke you guys, and you all smoke too.
Gonna keep things just as they are.
You own Steve's Place. Yeah.
They never even saw you. All I had to do was fill out the paperwork and mail it in. I poked around some websites, and found me a real dishonest building inspector. Two grand in cash, sent through the mail, and he filed a good report - not too good. A very ordinary report. No red flags on Steve's Place, uh-uh.
That inspection was for the landlord's sale to Ig, but it recent enough that I could use it again for the last sale. From Iggy, to you.
Those overworked employees in the assessor's office are okay. They like friendly e-mails... paperwork that's filled out right the first time. Gets 'em to let their guard down.
Did you know, for instance, that they don't have the manpower to do random appraisals on residential parcels? I sure didn't.
That was the last big concern I had. But now we know they won't be sending anybody out here.
They threw a little extra something my way, just 'cause I'd been so nice. Oops. This one lady told me... I mean, in the last e-mail she sent, that sometimes they hit the wrong key. Type in the wrong year. How clumsy of them.
Because of the sale, they'd try to get someone by to appraise the property within three years.
You wanna know what the nice lady at the assessor's office did? In their computer? She made it so there won't be anybody out here, wanting to get inside... for four years.
Four long, tickled years.
As if three years wasn't long enough. Three more years in Steve's Place...
Naaaah, try four. That's the kind of effort you deserve.
It's... beyond crazy, isn't it? But so was nabbing the pizza guy. Huh. Everybody thinks he ran off to California. Gonna be a rock star...
Another year with my captives, and another, and another - and another. I'm so excited I can't stand it. Even if I was gonna cut you loose, I got me a home for deserving captives here.
But you give that another thought - leaving. Your first house, and I want you to live in it, right down here. It's final. All done. I checked everything. Triple-checked. Everything is in order. You're not moving out, dude.
If the county comes up with some reason to bother us, what do you wanna bet I can't throw money at 'em - with Webremit - and make 'em stay away?
And you seem like such a conscientious fucker. They all think so. Your property taxes, the water bill, power bill, trash pickup, the gardener... all paid up in advance.
A year in advance.
Red-hot tickling. On the increase. Always... more to feel.
And if I keep from setting the house on fire or something, you're getting it all. Right here, in Steve's Place, with me turning up the heat. Making it last.
I mean - four years! I just can't believe it -
I'm gonna bust if I don't start tickling you again. Right this second. You.
All that oil is coming off now. The hard way. The long, fun way...
More gloves. I think.
Twenty. That's a good number. Rub this oil off as skillfully as I can. The other guys got a good three hours before their robot cycle ends. They're gonna celebrate, too. No doubt about it.
Give me that cigarette.
Rub it right off, and oil you back up. You're gonna feel some pro-grade tickling. From now on -
Homeowner dude. You're turned into a real privacy freak. I've studied the neighbors, and they won't bug us.
All three of you... still locked in. You inspired me most of all. If you hadn't come here - Well. Just keep it coming. Can I count on you?
Sure I can. You're a soft touch. Even when unexpected intruders drop in. And I never did know when it's time to leave.
I'm wrapping all these hands around my favorite places on ya.
Ready?
Counting on you, buddy. Another year, all paid up, three more years after that. Give it to me, Steve.
Let's get serious about the tickling.
Back to Part 1
2001