Francie_Pants
TMF Poster
- Joined
- May 6, 2008
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This is continued from:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=132969
Read that, for background on this one, if you haven't already.
I haven't finished working out the entire plot, so this is the airplane ride, and then the van ride to the final destination. I hope I put enough into it, to build up for the next installment. Let me know what you think. I appreciate all the feedback on the first one. It really encouraged and helped me to move the story along. So, without further interruptions....Part II
Whether the flight was two hours, or five hours, I don't know. It felt like forever, laying there hogtied, gagged and blindfolded in the floor of the airplane. For the most part, they paid little attention to me, throughout the flight. Other than the occasional poke in the ribs, to make sure, I was awake, they pretty much ignored me. I couldn't have slept anyway. Inside, I was nervous wreck.
It had been several hours since my abduction, and I was no closer to knowing who or why than I was the instant it started. There were tons of theories, for sure. At first, I was thinking that maybe some serial rapist was taking me away to have his way with me. That idea pretty much faded out of sight, when the additional people joined the scene, and it was implied that they all were apparently in cooperation with some higher level entity. The theory of mistaken identity had been quashed by the fact that the man who initiated the abduction called me 'Ms. Pasternak'. That's my last name, and that's who he was apparently after.
Other theories passed through my mind, but perhaps the most likely one was the possibility that they were trying to get a ransom from my ex-boyfriend. They might, very likely, have thought we were still together, because he and I are still friendly, but there is no more 'romance' between us. He would still pay a ransom for me, if worse came to worse, but he is also a rigidly stubborn man, who would probably be more apt to play hardball, and try to be hardnosed with them.
I could tell the plane was descending, so it was no surprise when I felt that first rough jolt of contact with the ground, upon landing. Moments later, I was lifted and carried off of the plane. Again, I felt myself being stuffed into the back of a van, doors slammed shut, etc. Men were sitting on either side of me, in the back of the van, and soon, I heard the engines fire up, and then we were moving.
Now, I'm not, by any stretch, a submissive person, but I know when I'm outnumbered, and helpless. Here I was securely hogtied, and flanked from every angle by men obviously stronger than me, so I was being as quiet as a possibly could, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, than necessary. Truth be told, I was hoping I could make myself so inconspicuous, that they would forget I was there, and leave me. I couldn't be so fortunate.
Apparently there was a long drive ahead of us, because the one on my right, who had apparently been one of the ones tormenting me, before we boarded the plane, spoke up.
"Hey, you guys want some music to enjoy, along the way?" He asked, with a clear hint of mischief in the tone of his voice.
They all seemed eager for entertainment, so his request was granted, and instantly, I felt my pumps being removed once again. I didn't need to be told what was coming. These men apparently had a fetish driven enjoyment for the ticklish feet of a helpless woman, and my suspicions were confirmed, when I felt not one, not two, but four hands going to work on my feet. My feet were upturned, due to the hogtie, and easily accessible, so the only choice I had was to lay there and bear the agony.
I'm very ticklish, but for some reason, nylon on my feet just seems to make it worse. My feet tend to sweat, inside my shoes, and when the shoes come off, the cooler air of the room hits them just right, to cool the moisture in the nylons and make them cling to my hot feet. It's like they bond to the skin, and enhance the sensitivity to the point that the lightest touch drives me to hysterics.
These four hands were using light touches.
Well, in all fairness, only two hands were tickling me. The bastards were each using a hand to hold the foot they teased completely still, as if I wasn't helpless enough already.
These light touches were more than I could stand. Within mere seconds, I was filling the van with the sounds of my uncontrollable laughter. You'd have thought I was enjoying myself. It's ironic how something so torturous can sound so blissful.
I was in total agony, and it sounded like I was enjoying a good joke; a really good joke. I was flopping against the back floor of the van like a fish dropped in the dirt. Screams of laughter roared into the tape covering my lips. I was plenty loud enough, in spite of the gag, for anyone listening to enjoy the sounds of my torment; and oh, they surely were. I could hear them making fun of me, in the front seats of the van, and that just added insult to ticklish injury
Not only was I being forced to laugh, but I was being humiliated by their sadistic enjoyment of my predicament. As angry as I wanted to be; as fierce as I wanted my responses to sound; as eager as I was to see them all lit ablaze and burned in the fires of hell; all I could manage to do was laugh. Laugh, laugh harder, and then when I thought I couldn't laugh any harder, I'd laugh harder still.
I had no idea where we were at, or where we were going, but apparently it was a long way off. They had plenty of time to drive me to the frayed ends of sanity (Metallica baby, woot woot), before we arrived. It had to have been at least a 3 hour drive, because it felt like a week. They tickled me the entire time. I was their damned radio for the trip. They didn't need a rock band, or a good blues station. They had me. The ticklish prisoner.
Anyway...we had reached the destination. Now, I would hopefully have some answers. Like who it was that had ordered this abduction. And why........
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=132969
Read that, for background on this one, if you haven't already.
I haven't finished working out the entire plot, so this is the airplane ride, and then the van ride to the final destination. I hope I put enough into it, to build up for the next installment. Let me know what you think. I appreciate all the feedback on the first one. It really encouraged and helped me to move the story along. So, without further interruptions....Part II
Whether the flight was two hours, or five hours, I don't know. It felt like forever, laying there hogtied, gagged and blindfolded in the floor of the airplane. For the most part, they paid little attention to me, throughout the flight. Other than the occasional poke in the ribs, to make sure, I was awake, they pretty much ignored me. I couldn't have slept anyway. Inside, I was nervous wreck.
It had been several hours since my abduction, and I was no closer to knowing who or why than I was the instant it started. There were tons of theories, for sure. At first, I was thinking that maybe some serial rapist was taking me away to have his way with me. That idea pretty much faded out of sight, when the additional people joined the scene, and it was implied that they all were apparently in cooperation with some higher level entity. The theory of mistaken identity had been quashed by the fact that the man who initiated the abduction called me 'Ms. Pasternak'. That's my last name, and that's who he was apparently after.
Other theories passed through my mind, but perhaps the most likely one was the possibility that they were trying to get a ransom from my ex-boyfriend. They might, very likely, have thought we were still together, because he and I are still friendly, but there is no more 'romance' between us. He would still pay a ransom for me, if worse came to worse, but he is also a rigidly stubborn man, who would probably be more apt to play hardball, and try to be hardnosed with them.
I could tell the plane was descending, so it was no surprise when I felt that first rough jolt of contact with the ground, upon landing. Moments later, I was lifted and carried off of the plane. Again, I felt myself being stuffed into the back of a van, doors slammed shut, etc. Men were sitting on either side of me, in the back of the van, and soon, I heard the engines fire up, and then we were moving.
Now, I'm not, by any stretch, a submissive person, but I know when I'm outnumbered, and helpless. Here I was securely hogtied, and flanked from every angle by men obviously stronger than me, so I was being as quiet as a possibly could, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, than necessary. Truth be told, I was hoping I could make myself so inconspicuous, that they would forget I was there, and leave me. I couldn't be so fortunate.
Apparently there was a long drive ahead of us, because the one on my right, who had apparently been one of the ones tormenting me, before we boarded the plane, spoke up.
"Hey, you guys want some music to enjoy, along the way?" He asked, with a clear hint of mischief in the tone of his voice.
They all seemed eager for entertainment, so his request was granted, and instantly, I felt my pumps being removed once again. I didn't need to be told what was coming. These men apparently had a fetish driven enjoyment for the ticklish feet of a helpless woman, and my suspicions were confirmed, when I felt not one, not two, but four hands going to work on my feet. My feet were upturned, due to the hogtie, and easily accessible, so the only choice I had was to lay there and bear the agony.
I'm very ticklish, but for some reason, nylon on my feet just seems to make it worse. My feet tend to sweat, inside my shoes, and when the shoes come off, the cooler air of the room hits them just right, to cool the moisture in the nylons and make them cling to my hot feet. It's like they bond to the skin, and enhance the sensitivity to the point that the lightest touch drives me to hysterics.
These four hands were using light touches.
Well, in all fairness, only two hands were tickling me. The bastards were each using a hand to hold the foot they teased completely still, as if I wasn't helpless enough already.
These light touches were more than I could stand. Within mere seconds, I was filling the van with the sounds of my uncontrollable laughter. You'd have thought I was enjoying myself. It's ironic how something so torturous can sound so blissful.
I was in total agony, and it sounded like I was enjoying a good joke; a really good joke. I was flopping against the back floor of the van like a fish dropped in the dirt. Screams of laughter roared into the tape covering my lips. I was plenty loud enough, in spite of the gag, for anyone listening to enjoy the sounds of my torment; and oh, they surely were. I could hear them making fun of me, in the front seats of the van, and that just added insult to ticklish injury
Not only was I being forced to laugh, but I was being humiliated by their sadistic enjoyment of my predicament. As angry as I wanted to be; as fierce as I wanted my responses to sound; as eager as I was to see them all lit ablaze and burned in the fires of hell; all I could manage to do was laugh. Laugh, laugh harder, and then when I thought I couldn't laugh any harder, I'd laugh harder still.
I had no idea where we were at, or where we were going, but apparently it was a long way off. They had plenty of time to drive me to the frayed ends of sanity (Metallica baby, woot woot), before we arrived. It had to have been at least a 3 hour drive, because it felt like a week. They tickled me the entire time. I was their damned radio for the trip. They didn't need a rock band, or a good blues station. They had me. The ticklish prisoner.
Anyway...we had reached the destination. Now, I would hopefully have some answers. Like who it was that had ordered this abduction. And why........
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