This is a story I wrote about a girl who seems to be in a struggle against the rest of the world, two men, and another girl being held against her will waiting for things only to get worse. Although, this story has the overtones of suffering and violence, so please, don't hate me for posting it. If anybody thinks this is inappropriate, PLEASE let me know and I can remove it.
Anyway, this is only the very first part, and the first tickling doesn't even happen till the last bit. The other parts have much, much more tickling in them, but before I polish off the rest of it, I wanted to see what you thought. Like I said, this is probably ADULT IN NATURE, so please don't hate me. I do promise I would never actually want to hurt anybody in text or otherwise. I'm just trying my hand at something new. I really want to find a way to contribute to the forum
Oh, as a bit of a post script, I did actually cut down all of the nonsense jibber-jabber that I could from it, though I'm afraid you will still find alot. I just like to be thorough.
In the center of the room stood two men, both dressed in long coats, and both simply going about their business. On first glance, one could easily mistake them for being human, although one would most certainly be wrong in assuming so. They shared many similar traits and, alas, were actually a member of the overzealous and somewhat determined race at one point. However, the ill effects of time had taken it's toll on both men and, again in time, had begun to make them look something less than natural. "Do you think we could hurry this up?" asked the shorter of the two. He was indeed in a hurry, and had been so for quite some time now.
"Well I could, but you asked me to do it right..." answered his companion, obviously occupying his attention with whatever matter was at hand. He seemed to be working at his own pace, and didn't even take notice to his partners eager disposition.
"It's a shame really," started the short one, "nobody will even be here to see this." He stopped and reflected on his previous life's accomplishments and, upon realizing that this was going in a different direction than he was accustomed to, announced loudly for nobody in particular, "Why cant we just kill her and get on with it!"
"You know why." He never looked up, just intently continued with his
business. Taking note of the uneasy silence he tried to offer a little contentment. "We are not to hurt her. Those were the instructions." He stepped back with a self-satisfied grin to examine the intricacies of his work. "Well, she's ready anyway." He said this last sentence with a bit of a smile beginning to form on his lips. The words snaked out in between his razor sharp and, perfectly straight, teeth.
The short, round one had taken a fancy in walking the perimeter of the room. It was much larger than it first appeared, and contained many unextrordinary and average items along the walls. Piles that consisted of alarm clocks, batteries, baseball bats, lawn ornaments, fishing rods, pots but not pans, and many other things. The room itself a large space made of cement and rotten wood was lined with large bookshelves that were filled to their capacity with more items of no value. Indeed this room was host to many things, none of which even slightly as sinister as the two that had come to call this home. Bending down slowly to pick up a few rusty forks from a pile of abandoned silverware the short one murmured under his breath, “Well, if we can’t kill her let’s at least cause her to suffer. This one has much to answer for. Although, I do hope she doesn’t break too fast, for this has been an expensive tax on our already invaluable time and it would sadden me to see it go to waste.”
“Good rope-work, too.” Added his associate, still admiring his attention to the details. “Don’t wanna waste that...”
“No, I suppose we wouldn’t...” replied the short man “Well, I suppose there is no harm in leaving the gag in her mouth for a short time, just in case. You know?”
“No, I suppose there isn’t.” Agreed his accomplice. “Right then, do you want to wake her up or should I?”
One week earlier...
Taylor squinted through her tears as she attempted to keep her car on the road. As she pressed on, she noticed that the signs on the side of the highway were becoming increasingly difficult to read. Just as well, she thought, she had no intentions of actually arriving in any particular place at any certain time. She only had to leave where she was and that was all she really knew, it didn’t really matter where she ended up. Fumbling with a road map she decided that she couldn’t have been further than a two hours drive from Lexington, Kentucky. She could spend the night there and decide upon her route in the morning. The road ahead seemed to offer her comfort, and that being something that this girl was not familiar with, brought a smile to her face. For the first time in her life she began to think of what she was going to do with it.
She was a smart girl, although she had never been given the direction or guidance a young girl of today’s society needs, and as such, never came to realize her full potential. Graduating from a home school program with no thanks to her parents, she went on to attempt a somewhat normal college career. The first few years had been fine, but the scene at home began to tell a different tale. Her parents started to fight more and more, their exchange of words often culminating to a peak right in front of her, at which point both of them would lash out and blame her for their troubles. This had happened before, but the last occurrence was far worse than the others. At the age of 23, Taylor had fled from her household with no more than the money in her back pocket, and her junker of a car. Refusing to go back to where she came from, she now had the daunting, but enlivening task of planning her own future away from the tyrannical oppression of her parents.
Although any feeling of hope had soon passed away when she heard the awful noise her car began to make. Sounding much more, now, like a metal abomination devouring itself from the inside out, her car, along with her newfound individualism, came to a not-so-gradual halt. Pulling out her map she again tried to determine where she may have been. There were no mile markers, and no road signs within her viewable range. To make things worse, the only thing she could actually determine for sure was that she and her car sat in one of those sections of the map that isn’t even filled in. “Why do they even have these on the map?” She mumbled to herself as she studied the blank space on the paper where she was stranded. Deciding not to let this minor grievance stop her, she popped the emergency blinkers on and got out of the car. Taylor looked around her and noticed that there really wasn’t much to notice. For one, it was dark. Maybe had there been a little light she might have been able to decide on a better direction to go, but going with what she was given, she thought it best to try and continue on in the direction she was driving. At least then somebody could possibly see her car and then see her off to the side of the road.
She walked for some time and as she walked she kept her eyes open for cars that would pass her by. Although she did not find it odd that there was nobody on the road she did find it a touch frustrating. It was late, after all, and she could only imagine that everyone that would have been out driving this route during the day was sitting in a comfy oversized sofa in front of a fire drinking their coffee and watching reruns of Law and Order. Or, at least, that’s what she would be doing had she not been susceptible to a chronic case of horrible luck and even worse timing since she were young. Lost in her own thoughts at this point, she nearly missed the black Bentley that flew past her only to turn down a road just a few feet down. Deciding to follow this car, with hopes that someone there could help, she jogged down the road and made the same turn onto what seemed like a long driveway.
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Looking at his watch and grumbling to himself he turned away from the window and began thumbing his own chin with his thumb. Matthew was already an hour late and with no sign of him coming any time soon, Noah would have to make do until he arrived. “Lousy good-fer-nuttin!” He raised his voice a little but quickly restrained himself as he did not want to wake up his guest. Looking to the corner of the house he noticed that she was still out cold, no doubt from a long days work. This young lady had alot of spirit in her, and he decided to reward her with a few more minutes of rest. He would wake her up, in due time, but until then it didn’t seem that he had anything pressing at hand, so he sat down in the recliner with a bottle of ‘jack and flipped through the stations on the tube. Besides, he was tired, too.
“Ohhh...” The girl moaned quietly to herself in her sleep. She was obviously having a bad dream. Still half asleep, she whispered, “please don’t....” And she was lost again.
Noah heard this and turned off the television. He pulled the handle back on the side of the chair, causing his leg rest to fold back in, and strained himself to stand up. He wasn’t particularly the skinniest man around, and as he wobbled up to the sleeping beauty the floorboards strained and groaned under him. Just as he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes the door burst open and a young man was standing there, covered in an oversized tan coat and blue scarf. “You’re an hour late.” Noah sounded displeased.
“I know, and forgive me, but I was held up.” Matthew closed the door behind him and walked up to Noah with a large brown paper bag in his hands. “I did get the supplies, though.” He looked up with a half-grin, his cheeks pink from the cold outside and his hair matted down against his forehead.
“What held you up?” Noah began fingering through the various items in the bag.
“It was,” Matthew paused, as if he needed to regain his breath for this next part, “Both of them are, uh... passing through and I happened to bump into them.”
“They’re here? What did they say?” There was a hint of surprise and unease in his tone now. “Will they take her now?”
“No, not yet, that is.” Matthew clarified. “They said that are merely passing through. They have business to take care of up north, but that they will stop by and pick up the girl on their way back.” Matthew bit the inside of his lip while he said this. He knew, as well as Noah did, that this meant that they would have to entertain their guest for a few more days. “They did, however give very explicit directions. We are not to hurt the girl, but we are to make her much more... persuasive.” He let this last part linger out there a little before he continued. “Which reminds me,” he began, “how is she?”
“She’s here.” Noah stepped out of the way and motioned toward a girl that was clearly fast asleep, minus the occasional moan and twitch. “She’s having more nightmares, I s’pose. I was about to wake ‘er up. What kinda host would I be if I didn’t?” With that he reached out and slapped the girl across the cheek, causing her to wake up suddenly and gasp for air. Before she could even get a word out Noah extended his arm and covered her mouth, rendering her silent.
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Walking for what seemed like ages, Taylor began to see a faint light in the distance. She thought to herself for a second about who would want a driveway so long, but then finally concluded that with a vehicle it was probably nothing. At any rate, there was nothing more for her to do than to press on. It had gotten significantly darker since she left the main road and with it came a chill in the air. The stars did not seem to offer any light to her and, although there was a moon hanging in the sky, she fumbled around for footing along the gravel path. “Great, even Mother Nature seems to hate me...” she half joked with herself as she stumbled a bit and pulled herself up. The light in the distance was getting closer, and now was fully recognizable as a small house with the drapes drawn. She felt a little better about her situation as she continued on.
When she arrived at the small house she noticed the same black Bentley parked in the front lawn. Curious, she thought, that such a nice car would be parked in the grass out in front. It seemed out of place in a way, and reminded her of how her dad would park his car after so many nights out, but she did not worry about it. She simply walked up to the front door and knocked. The wooden door was thick and hurt her knuckles when she knocked and when nobody answered she began to wonder if nobody had heard her. She pressed her ear to the cold wood and determined that there were, in fact, people inside of the house. She could hear them moving about. As a matter of fact, they seemed to be making quite a bit of noise, but the door was thick and the air was cold and Taylor couldn’t make out anything from the front porch. Instead, she decided to try again. This time, she kicked the door and it made a much more noticeable sound.
The door swung open and standing in the flood of light was a young
man, or possibly an older boy, either way, she was taken back just the same. “Hello, uh... My name is, umm... That is, I was...” For some reason unbeknownst to her, she was suddenly unable to formulate a complete thought.
“I’m sorry, but we are terribly busy at this very moment and have not time for...” Matthew began, politely, but was cut off by what seemed to him to be a girl with a rather strange speech impediment.
“I’m Taylor Strickland, and my car has broken down some distance from your home.” She looked up at him, trying to mimic the look her mother used to call the ‘sad dog eyes’. She never could quite get it right, although, she figured, it was at least worth a shot. After all, it certainly couldn’t hurt to try.
“Yes, well, be that as it may I’m afraid there just nothing I can do for you.” Matthew decided that he would rather not give this girl another glance, as she certainly did look to be in desperate aid of some help, although if she had only knew the truth of his affairs, she would never have asked in the first place. He was doing her a favor and she never even realized it.
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In the back of the house, Noah was helping his house guest get ready for the nights business, and was paying no attention to much of anything else. However, when he went to reach for the bag that Matthew had been so kind to bring him, it was simply not there. He looked for a second, but quickly realized that Matthew must had still been carrying it when he left the room. Securing the girl, he sauntered through the door, shutting it quickly behind himself, and began making his way to the front of the house.
As he made his trek across the living room, he began to hear voices. One of them he recognized as being Matthew’s, however, the other one he did not recognize at all. “Who is it?” He called, “Who’s at da door?”
“Please... just go...” Matthew said when he heard this. His tone seemed to have changed from a pleasant apologetic mood to what now would better be classified as hurried and with great sincerity.
However, Taylor had made up her mind a short time ago that she was going to stop being pushed around and begin living her own life, so she called out to the mystery voice, “My name is Taylor Strickland! I’m in need of a ride, or a nights stay.” She had stated this loud enough for Noah to hear, and hear he did. Out from around the corner of the living room entrance she noticed a man who reminded her alot of Santa Clause. His grey beard blended in with the sideburns on his face which grew up into shaggy grey hair the fell from the top of his head. His cheeks were rosy, but this was not because he was pleasant at all. No, his entire face was a bit flush, actually, due to the amount of work it took for him to navigate the small house he lived in. He was quite out of breath when he reached the front door, but the sight of this attractive young lady standing there refreshed him and he was inclined to see how he could help. “Please,” Taylor said, a bit more urgently. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Matthew’s face did not look to reflect the feeling of happiness or joy when Noah answered, without thought, Taylor’s request. He stood in the doorway a moment, but eventually stepped back and opened it all of the way to allow her entry. Noah had said she could stay, so indeed she would.
Taylor stepped into the warm house and smiled at her hosts. She felt, for the first time in a long time, cared for and safe. Although she just met these two gentlemen, she felt that she could trust them, and did so without hesitation. “Thank you both very much, you have no idea how much this helps me out.”
“Don’t be a-thankin us yet,” Noah sat down with a grunt, but as soon as he did so there came a cry from the back room. It was faint, as if it were not even there and Noah noticed the look of concern that washed over their new visitor’s face. “Ah, must be those pesky critters gettin’ in da trash again!” He growled and forced himself to his feet once more. Wobbling off he offered a few words that Taylor found comforting. “Matthew here will show ya where yer gonna be sleepin. Hell, he can even getcha somethin to eat if ya want!” He laughed to himself as he muttered under his breath, “I’ll take care of ‘em critters.”
Taylor followed Matthew, who, strange enough, had not said anything since begging her to leave, in the opposite direction Noah had gone. “My, you two must sure get some large critters out here if they make noises like that!” She laughed, trying to make conversation.
“You have no idea...” Matthew was not in the mood to talk right now.
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The girl who Taylor may, or may not have, heard was named Violet. She was named after the flowers that would grow in the wooden flower boxes on the back porch. Her mother always told her that those flowers would always bring her good luck and, if she were quiet enough, she would be able to hear them. Her mom would always tell her that she was named after those flowers because of her cheerful personality, and that the flowers were constantly talking and laughing with each other, which Violet herself found rather strange. Now, what would a flower have to talk about and, what’s more, laugh about? Well, as it would seem, they don’t much like sharing their business with outsiders, because as a young girl Violet would sit outside, quietly, and wait for them to start talking. Of course, they never did.
She grew up with a loving family somewhere that fell in the white spaces on the map. While she was growing up, she was often given high accolades with respect to her feminine charm. She was a very lovely lady, but who would assume otherwise, keeping in mind where and whom she was from? Nonetheless, Violet grew into her own in time and became a stunning portrait of a girl at the age of 23. Her skin, clear and fair, remained pale regardless of how much sunlight she was exposed to, and her eyes would often appear to change color simply to compliment what she was wearing.
Today, however, the girl named Violet was strapped to a table with her arms above her head and her legs together. Slits had been cut in the table so that the straps would feed into them and around her limbs, rendering her nearly immobile. Her shirt had been cut off, exposing her soft stomach and white tank top, and one shoe was missing. From her spot on the table, she could not see her missing shoe, but the sock that was once between it and her bare foot was now between her teeth and tied tightly behind her head, to prevent any... unwanted attention. Just as she began to assess the situation, though, Noah walked through the door with a smile on his face a mile wide. Violet shuddered.
“I’m glad to see yer awake,” Noah said politely. “These last few nights you’ve been tuckerin out so early, I think were gonna hafta make this a long night”
Violet began to protest, but only so much as the sock in her mouth would allow, as it was proving to be a very competent gag. She clenched her eyes shut as a single tear ran down her face.
Noah reach out one hand and ran it down her bare underarm, causing her to jump. Slowly scratching at the delicate skin in the pit of her left arm he began to talk to her in a very conversational tone. “We have a couple more days, it seems, to get to know each other. Our friends want you in a very specific state of mind when they arrive to claim you, and we do not have very much time to get there.” Noah said this with a smile that was larger, in fact, than the one he entered the room with. Violet, however, was finding it intensely difficult to concentrate on the words he was saying. So much so, she failed to even notice that he did not slur his speech, which Noah had been known to do at, well, frankly all occasions.
“Mmmph...mmm....” Violet whimpered through the makeshift gag. Noah had reached over with his other hand and was now beginning to tickle both of her armpits at the same time. She arched her back and attempted to grab at the hair she could reach with her hands, but nothing made it go away.
Switching it up a little, he used his two middle fingers and found a spot just between Violet’s first two ribs and, with a prodding technique, began to apply pressure. The girl let out a scream followed by a stream of giggles that were absorbed, for the most part, into the sock. She was beginning to reach out with her hands, as if she were able to move them, and was grasping out at nothing but air. Her cheeks were an adorable shade of pink that matched, judging from the lack of foot-ware, the paint on her toes, which were incidentally clenched just as tight as her fists.
Noah moved to one side of his victim and began dancing all ten of his fingers up and down her ribcage, enticing a delightful strand of screams from the poor girl. “Don’t worry, nobody can hear you. And even if they somehow do...” He paused and thought about the girl at the door, “...we can silence them, as well.” Smiling to himself he pulled the sock away from her mouth and focused back on her ribs.
“Eeeeeeheheheee.... Pleeheheeeeeheheeeheee!!!” Violet began to plead, but quickly realizing what she was doing, she steadied her tongue and returned to incessant laughter. She would not be so quick as to beg, as her own pride would not allow it. A responsibility, perhaps, that she had to her family. Possibly, even, a personal resolve she held to give this bastard as little enjoyment as she could, although she would suffer greatly for this. “EEEeheheheheeheheeee... heheheeehahahaahaheheheheeeeheeheeheee....” No, instead of begging she would twist and writhe in her own ticklish defeat, and not make known her despair.
The girl was lost to frenzied laughter, but Noah did not let up. His fingers came to rest, at this point, just above the elastic band on her panties. Using all ten fingers to poke and prod he leaned his weight onto the small female, and attempted to hold her as still as possible. Although the bonds held her fast, she would still bounce to the left and the right. Noah held her completely still while pressing down on her most ticklish areas in her abdomen. Violet was beside herself in ticklish agony. This new form of tickling evoked a series of pleas and choked laughter from his prisoner.
Her head was tilted back and her eyes were clamped shut. Still, tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the wood below. “Pleeheheeheeeseeeeee!!!! EEEEEeeeeeheheheeeeee!!! Whyeyeyeeeheheeeee.......areheheheheheheheheeheee....!!!” She was still making an effort not to try and solicit any sort of pity from this man, but there was only so much she could stand.
It was just then that Matthew walked in and shut the door behind himself.
“All done?” Asked Noah, who was still drawing circles on the quivering girls sides.
“Yes.” Matthew stated loudly, over Violet’s cries. Then, in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “You haven’t tickled her feet yet I see?”
Anyway, this is only the very first part, and the first tickling doesn't even happen till the last bit. The other parts have much, much more tickling in them, but before I polish off the rest of it, I wanted to see what you thought. Like I said, this is probably ADULT IN NATURE, so please don't hate me. I do promise I would never actually want to hurt anybody in text or otherwise. I'm just trying my hand at something new. I really want to find a way to contribute to the forum
Oh, as a bit of a post script, I did actually cut down all of the nonsense jibber-jabber that I could from it, though I'm afraid you will still find alot. I just like to be thorough.In the center of the room stood two men, both dressed in long coats, and both simply going about their business. On first glance, one could easily mistake them for being human, although one would most certainly be wrong in assuming so. They shared many similar traits and, alas, were actually a member of the overzealous and somewhat determined race at one point. However, the ill effects of time had taken it's toll on both men and, again in time, had begun to make them look something less than natural. "Do you think we could hurry this up?" asked the shorter of the two. He was indeed in a hurry, and had been so for quite some time now.
"Well I could, but you asked me to do it right..." answered his companion, obviously occupying his attention with whatever matter was at hand. He seemed to be working at his own pace, and didn't even take notice to his partners eager disposition.
"It's a shame really," started the short one, "nobody will even be here to see this." He stopped and reflected on his previous life's accomplishments and, upon realizing that this was going in a different direction than he was accustomed to, announced loudly for nobody in particular, "Why cant we just kill her and get on with it!"
"You know why." He never looked up, just intently continued with his
business. Taking note of the uneasy silence he tried to offer a little contentment. "We are not to hurt her. Those were the instructions." He stepped back with a self-satisfied grin to examine the intricacies of his work. "Well, she's ready anyway." He said this last sentence with a bit of a smile beginning to form on his lips. The words snaked out in between his razor sharp and, perfectly straight, teeth.
The short, round one had taken a fancy in walking the perimeter of the room. It was much larger than it first appeared, and contained many unextrordinary and average items along the walls. Piles that consisted of alarm clocks, batteries, baseball bats, lawn ornaments, fishing rods, pots but not pans, and many other things. The room itself a large space made of cement and rotten wood was lined with large bookshelves that were filled to their capacity with more items of no value. Indeed this room was host to many things, none of which even slightly as sinister as the two that had come to call this home. Bending down slowly to pick up a few rusty forks from a pile of abandoned silverware the short one murmured under his breath, “Well, if we can’t kill her let’s at least cause her to suffer. This one has much to answer for. Although, I do hope she doesn’t break too fast, for this has been an expensive tax on our already invaluable time and it would sadden me to see it go to waste.”
“Good rope-work, too.” Added his associate, still admiring his attention to the details. “Don’t wanna waste that...”
“No, I suppose we wouldn’t...” replied the short man “Well, I suppose there is no harm in leaving the gag in her mouth for a short time, just in case. You know?”
“No, I suppose there isn’t.” Agreed his accomplice. “Right then, do you want to wake her up or should I?”
One week earlier...
Taylor squinted through her tears as she attempted to keep her car on the road. As she pressed on, she noticed that the signs on the side of the highway were becoming increasingly difficult to read. Just as well, she thought, she had no intentions of actually arriving in any particular place at any certain time. She only had to leave where she was and that was all she really knew, it didn’t really matter where she ended up. Fumbling with a road map she decided that she couldn’t have been further than a two hours drive from Lexington, Kentucky. She could spend the night there and decide upon her route in the morning. The road ahead seemed to offer her comfort, and that being something that this girl was not familiar with, brought a smile to her face. For the first time in her life she began to think of what she was going to do with it.
She was a smart girl, although she had never been given the direction or guidance a young girl of today’s society needs, and as such, never came to realize her full potential. Graduating from a home school program with no thanks to her parents, she went on to attempt a somewhat normal college career. The first few years had been fine, but the scene at home began to tell a different tale. Her parents started to fight more and more, their exchange of words often culminating to a peak right in front of her, at which point both of them would lash out and blame her for their troubles. This had happened before, but the last occurrence was far worse than the others. At the age of 23, Taylor had fled from her household with no more than the money in her back pocket, and her junker of a car. Refusing to go back to where she came from, she now had the daunting, but enlivening task of planning her own future away from the tyrannical oppression of her parents.
Although any feeling of hope had soon passed away when she heard the awful noise her car began to make. Sounding much more, now, like a metal abomination devouring itself from the inside out, her car, along with her newfound individualism, came to a not-so-gradual halt. Pulling out her map she again tried to determine where she may have been. There were no mile markers, and no road signs within her viewable range. To make things worse, the only thing she could actually determine for sure was that she and her car sat in one of those sections of the map that isn’t even filled in. “Why do they even have these on the map?” She mumbled to herself as she studied the blank space on the paper where she was stranded. Deciding not to let this minor grievance stop her, she popped the emergency blinkers on and got out of the car. Taylor looked around her and noticed that there really wasn’t much to notice. For one, it was dark. Maybe had there been a little light she might have been able to decide on a better direction to go, but going with what she was given, she thought it best to try and continue on in the direction she was driving. At least then somebody could possibly see her car and then see her off to the side of the road.
She walked for some time and as she walked she kept her eyes open for cars that would pass her by. Although she did not find it odd that there was nobody on the road she did find it a touch frustrating. It was late, after all, and she could only imagine that everyone that would have been out driving this route during the day was sitting in a comfy oversized sofa in front of a fire drinking their coffee and watching reruns of Law and Order. Or, at least, that’s what she would be doing had she not been susceptible to a chronic case of horrible luck and even worse timing since she were young. Lost in her own thoughts at this point, she nearly missed the black Bentley that flew past her only to turn down a road just a few feet down. Deciding to follow this car, with hopes that someone there could help, she jogged down the road and made the same turn onto what seemed like a long driveway.
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Looking at his watch and grumbling to himself he turned away from the window and began thumbing his own chin with his thumb. Matthew was already an hour late and with no sign of him coming any time soon, Noah would have to make do until he arrived. “Lousy good-fer-nuttin!” He raised his voice a little but quickly restrained himself as he did not want to wake up his guest. Looking to the corner of the house he noticed that she was still out cold, no doubt from a long days work. This young lady had alot of spirit in her, and he decided to reward her with a few more minutes of rest. He would wake her up, in due time, but until then it didn’t seem that he had anything pressing at hand, so he sat down in the recliner with a bottle of ‘jack and flipped through the stations on the tube. Besides, he was tired, too.
“Ohhh...” The girl moaned quietly to herself in her sleep. She was obviously having a bad dream. Still half asleep, she whispered, “please don’t....” And she was lost again.
Noah heard this and turned off the television. He pulled the handle back on the side of the chair, causing his leg rest to fold back in, and strained himself to stand up. He wasn’t particularly the skinniest man around, and as he wobbled up to the sleeping beauty the floorboards strained and groaned under him. Just as he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes the door burst open and a young man was standing there, covered in an oversized tan coat and blue scarf. “You’re an hour late.” Noah sounded displeased.
“I know, and forgive me, but I was held up.” Matthew closed the door behind him and walked up to Noah with a large brown paper bag in his hands. “I did get the supplies, though.” He looked up with a half-grin, his cheeks pink from the cold outside and his hair matted down against his forehead.
“What held you up?” Noah began fingering through the various items in the bag.
“It was,” Matthew paused, as if he needed to regain his breath for this next part, “Both of them are, uh... passing through and I happened to bump into them.”
“They’re here? What did they say?” There was a hint of surprise and unease in his tone now. “Will they take her now?”
“No, not yet, that is.” Matthew clarified. “They said that are merely passing through. They have business to take care of up north, but that they will stop by and pick up the girl on their way back.” Matthew bit the inside of his lip while he said this. He knew, as well as Noah did, that this meant that they would have to entertain their guest for a few more days. “They did, however give very explicit directions. We are not to hurt the girl, but we are to make her much more... persuasive.” He let this last part linger out there a little before he continued. “Which reminds me,” he began, “how is she?”
“She’s here.” Noah stepped out of the way and motioned toward a girl that was clearly fast asleep, minus the occasional moan and twitch. “She’s having more nightmares, I s’pose. I was about to wake ‘er up. What kinda host would I be if I didn’t?” With that he reached out and slapped the girl across the cheek, causing her to wake up suddenly and gasp for air. Before she could even get a word out Noah extended his arm and covered her mouth, rendering her silent.
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Walking for what seemed like ages, Taylor began to see a faint light in the distance. She thought to herself for a second about who would want a driveway so long, but then finally concluded that with a vehicle it was probably nothing. At any rate, there was nothing more for her to do than to press on. It had gotten significantly darker since she left the main road and with it came a chill in the air. The stars did not seem to offer any light to her and, although there was a moon hanging in the sky, she fumbled around for footing along the gravel path. “Great, even Mother Nature seems to hate me...” she half joked with herself as she stumbled a bit and pulled herself up. The light in the distance was getting closer, and now was fully recognizable as a small house with the drapes drawn. She felt a little better about her situation as she continued on.
When she arrived at the small house she noticed the same black Bentley parked in the front lawn. Curious, she thought, that such a nice car would be parked in the grass out in front. It seemed out of place in a way, and reminded her of how her dad would park his car after so many nights out, but she did not worry about it. She simply walked up to the front door and knocked. The wooden door was thick and hurt her knuckles when she knocked and when nobody answered she began to wonder if nobody had heard her. She pressed her ear to the cold wood and determined that there were, in fact, people inside of the house. She could hear them moving about. As a matter of fact, they seemed to be making quite a bit of noise, but the door was thick and the air was cold and Taylor couldn’t make out anything from the front porch. Instead, she decided to try again. This time, she kicked the door and it made a much more noticeable sound.
The door swung open and standing in the flood of light was a young
man, or possibly an older boy, either way, she was taken back just the same. “Hello, uh... My name is, umm... That is, I was...” For some reason unbeknownst to her, she was suddenly unable to formulate a complete thought.
“I’m sorry, but we are terribly busy at this very moment and have not time for...” Matthew began, politely, but was cut off by what seemed to him to be a girl with a rather strange speech impediment.
“I’m Taylor Strickland, and my car has broken down some distance from your home.” She looked up at him, trying to mimic the look her mother used to call the ‘sad dog eyes’. She never could quite get it right, although, she figured, it was at least worth a shot. After all, it certainly couldn’t hurt to try.
“Yes, well, be that as it may I’m afraid there just nothing I can do for you.” Matthew decided that he would rather not give this girl another glance, as she certainly did look to be in desperate aid of some help, although if she had only knew the truth of his affairs, she would never have asked in the first place. He was doing her a favor and she never even realized it.
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In the back of the house, Noah was helping his house guest get ready for the nights business, and was paying no attention to much of anything else. However, when he went to reach for the bag that Matthew had been so kind to bring him, it was simply not there. He looked for a second, but quickly realized that Matthew must had still been carrying it when he left the room. Securing the girl, he sauntered through the door, shutting it quickly behind himself, and began making his way to the front of the house.
As he made his trek across the living room, he began to hear voices. One of them he recognized as being Matthew’s, however, the other one he did not recognize at all. “Who is it?” He called, “Who’s at da door?”
“Please... just go...” Matthew said when he heard this. His tone seemed to have changed from a pleasant apologetic mood to what now would better be classified as hurried and with great sincerity.
However, Taylor had made up her mind a short time ago that she was going to stop being pushed around and begin living her own life, so she called out to the mystery voice, “My name is Taylor Strickland! I’m in need of a ride, or a nights stay.” She had stated this loud enough for Noah to hear, and hear he did. Out from around the corner of the living room entrance she noticed a man who reminded her alot of Santa Clause. His grey beard blended in with the sideburns on his face which grew up into shaggy grey hair the fell from the top of his head. His cheeks were rosy, but this was not because he was pleasant at all. No, his entire face was a bit flush, actually, due to the amount of work it took for him to navigate the small house he lived in. He was quite out of breath when he reached the front door, but the sight of this attractive young lady standing there refreshed him and he was inclined to see how he could help. “Please,” Taylor said, a bit more urgently. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Matthew’s face did not look to reflect the feeling of happiness or joy when Noah answered, without thought, Taylor’s request. He stood in the doorway a moment, but eventually stepped back and opened it all of the way to allow her entry. Noah had said she could stay, so indeed she would.
Taylor stepped into the warm house and smiled at her hosts. She felt, for the first time in a long time, cared for and safe. Although she just met these two gentlemen, she felt that she could trust them, and did so without hesitation. “Thank you both very much, you have no idea how much this helps me out.”
“Don’t be a-thankin us yet,” Noah sat down with a grunt, but as soon as he did so there came a cry from the back room. It was faint, as if it were not even there and Noah noticed the look of concern that washed over their new visitor’s face. “Ah, must be those pesky critters gettin’ in da trash again!” He growled and forced himself to his feet once more. Wobbling off he offered a few words that Taylor found comforting. “Matthew here will show ya where yer gonna be sleepin. Hell, he can even getcha somethin to eat if ya want!” He laughed to himself as he muttered under his breath, “I’ll take care of ‘em critters.”
Taylor followed Matthew, who, strange enough, had not said anything since begging her to leave, in the opposite direction Noah had gone. “My, you two must sure get some large critters out here if they make noises like that!” She laughed, trying to make conversation.
“You have no idea...” Matthew was not in the mood to talk right now.
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The girl who Taylor may, or may not have, heard was named Violet. She was named after the flowers that would grow in the wooden flower boxes on the back porch. Her mother always told her that those flowers would always bring her good luck and, if she were quiet enough, she would be able to hear them. Her mom would always tell her that she was named after those flowers because of her cheerful personality, and that the flowers were constantly talking and laughing with each other, which Violet herself found rather strange. Now, what would a flower have to talk about and, what’s more, laugh about? Well, as it would seem, they don’t much like sharing their business with outsiders, because as a young girl Violet would sit outside, quietly, and wait for them to start talking. Of course, they never did.
She grew up with a loving family somewhere that fell in the white spaces on the map. While she was growing up, she was often given high accolades with respect to her feminine charm. She was a very lovely lady, but who would assume otherwise, keeping in mind where and whom she was from? Nonetheless, Violet grew into her own in time and became a stunning portrait of a girl at the age of 23. Her skin, clear and fair, remained pale regardless of how much sunlight she was exposed to, and her eyes would often appear to change color simply to compliment what she was wearing.
Today, however, the girl named Violet was strapped to a table with her arms above her head and her legs together. Slits had been cut in the table so that the straps would feed into them and around her limbs, rendering her nearly immobile. Her shirt had been cut off, exposing her soft stomach and white tank top, and one shoe was missing. From her spot on the table, she could not see her missing shoe, but the sock that was once between it and her bare foot was now between her teeth and tied tightly behind her head, to prevent any... unwanted attention. Just as she began to assess the situation, though, Noah walked through the door with a smile on his face a mile wide. Violet shuddered.
“I’m glad to see yer awake,” Noah said politely. “These last few nights you’ve been tuckerin out so early, I think were gonna hafta make this a long night”
Violet began to protest, but only so much as the sock in her mouth would allow, as it was proving to be a very competent gag. She clenched her eyes shut as a single tear ran down her face.
Noah reach out one hand and ran it down her bare underarm, causing her to jump. Slowly scratching at the delicate skin in the pit of her left arm he began to talk to her in a very conversational tone. “We have a couple more days, it seems, to get to know each other. Our friends want you in a very specific state of mind when they arrive to claim you, and we do not have very much time to get there.” Noah said this with a smile that was larger, in fact, than the one he entered the room with. Violet, however, was finding it intensely difficult to concentrate on the words he was saying. So much so, she failed to even notice that he did not slur his speech, which Noah had been known to do at, well, frankly all occasions.
“Mmmph...mmm....” Violet whimpered through the makeshift gag. Noah had reached over with his other hand and was now beginning to tickle both of her armpits at the same time. She arched her back and attempted to grab at the hair she could reach with her hands, but nothing made it go away.
Switching it up a little, he used his two middle fingers and found a spot just between Violet’s first two ribs and, with a prodding technique, began to apply pressure. The girl let out a scream followed by a stream of giggles that were absorbed, for the most part, into the sock. She was beginning to reach out with her hands, as if she were able to move them, and was grasping out at nothing but air. Her cheeks were an adorable shade of pink that matched, judging from the lack of foot-ware, the paint on her toes, which were incidentally clenched just as tight as her fists.
Noah moved to one side of his victim and began dancing all ten of his fingers up and down her ribcage, enticing a delightful strand of screams from the poor girl. “Don’t worry, nobody can hear you. And even if they somehow do...” He paused and thought about the girl at the door, “...we can silence them, as well.” Smiling to himself he pulled the sock away from her mouth and focused back on her ribs.
“Eeeeeeheheheee.... Pleeheheeeeeheheeeheee!!!” Violet began to plead, but quickly realizing what she was doing, she steadied her tongue and returned to incessant laughter. She would not be so quick as to beg, as her own pride would not allow it. A responsibility, perhaps, that she had to her family. Possibly, even, a personal resolve she held to give this bastard as little enjoyment as she could, although she would suffer greatly for this. “EEEeheheheheeheheeee... heheheeehahahaahaheheheheeeeheeheeheee....” No, instead of begging she would twist and writhe in her own ticklish defeat, and not make known her despair.
The girl was lost to frenzied laughter, but Noah did not let up. His fingers came to rest, at this point, just above the elastic band on her panties. Using all ten fingers to poke and prod he leaned his weight onto the small female, and attempted to hold her as still as possible. Although the bonds held her fast, she would still bounce to the left and the right. Noah held her completely still while pressing down on her most ticklish areas in her abdomen. Violet was beside herself in ticklish agony. This new form of tickling evoked a series of pleas and choked laughter from his prisoner.
Her head was tilted back and her eyes were clamped shut. Still, tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the wood below. “Pleeheheeheeeseeeeee!!!! EEEEEeeeeeheheheeeeee!!! Whyeyeyeeeheheeeee.......areheheheheheheheheeheee....!!!” She was still making an effort not to try and solicit any sort of pity from this man, but there was only so much she could stand.
It was just then that Matthew walked in and shut the door behind himself.
“All done?” Asked Noah, who was still drawing circles on the quivering girls sides.
“Yes.” Matthew stated loudly, over Violet’s cries. Then, in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “You haven’t tickled her feet yet I see?”
