tickledorange
2nd Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2002
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This is a continuation of the STQ series, which can be found in my archive. Comments are always appreciated.
Wednesday started out like every other day that week. Katie woke up at six AM to the sound of a screaming alarm, got ready to go in record time, and was out the door by 6:30. Walking to the car in the dark was more chilling than the fall air, even if the sun was just beginning to rise.
She stared at her car, walking swiftly towards it. Her key was clenched in her hand and positioned between her index and middle fingers. Even though it had only been a little over a year, the thought of Christine's abrupt disappearance was still fresh within her mind. “Whatever happened to her,” she thought, “I want no part of it.”
Brett crouched silently behind her car, holding a position so that his head was invisible behind her trunk. He clenched a large steak knife in one hand, pointing it toward the ground, tapping his fingers against the blade in anticipation. “This is so hot,” he thought to himself as he sat there, preparing to strike at any given moment.
Katie arrived at the door of her car, holding her key in one hand as she looked in the window to see if anyone was standing behind her. Suddenly, someone came from the side of her car, not from behind like she had thought. He ran around the car, ran toward her and grabbed her from behind with one arm. Katie struggled violently, ducking down to attempt escape. “Hold still!” he whispered commandingly, holding the knife in the air for her to see.
Katie backed up a few steps as Brett approached her. She again stuck her keys between her fingers, preparing to return any attack that Brett had planned. “I'm not going to hurt you,” Brett said, putting the knife away and reaching out to her. “Just cooperate and I promise it'll be a lot better on you.”
Within an inch from her wrists, Katie grabbed both of Brett's hands instead. She tossed them aside and ran in the opposite direction. “Come back here!” He yelled, chasing after her. “You won't get away!”
Katie scrambled to get inside her house, tripping over shadows on the ground as she nervously tried to escape. Brett was in hot pursuit, chasing after her on the way to her house. She fumbled with her keys to locate the correct one, but dropped them on the ground in front of her instead. “Come on!” she screamed.
Brett hid in plain sight behind her, holding his arms in front of him, ready to strike at any second. He put on a pair of gardening gloves that he had jammed into his pocket. Katie only had a second to look behind her before a hand was forcibly clamped around her suddenly surprised open mouth. “There you go, that's it. Settle down, it'll be a lot easier for both of us.”
Katie did not want to accept the easy route. She clamped on the glove that muffled her mouth, only to release shortly after. A liquid had surged from the material that now caused Katie to gag violently. She tried to shake her head to offset the horrible smell and taste that now consumed her senses. “You like it?” he said sarcastically. “I had been told that you were a fighter. I soaked these gloves in some old milk about a week ago and let them sit there until this morning.”
Katie was indeed too busy with the horrible taste in her mouth and removing Brett's hand from it that she didn't notice that she was being dragged. Brett had left his trunk open earlier, which made it easier for him to quickly push her into the trunk. Katie made an insignificant last minute effort to push him away, but she was now too nauseated to attempt the escape. She dug her heels into the ground as he quickly gave her a shove into the dark opening. Before Katie could even put her arms up, the trunk lid had slammed on top of her. Katie noticed the escape latch, but when she pulled it, no results. The trunk lid was stationary. “Come on, you son of a bitch!” she yelled, violently ripping at the latch.
Brett turned off the radio and listened to the chaos behind him. He put his head against the seat as Katie pushed against all areas of her confined space. “Do that all you like,” he told her. “It won't help you any.”
The car pulled into the driveway, abruptly stopping at the end. Katie flew against the seats, covering her head with her hands to brace the impact. She heard the trunk opening behind her, but before Brett could get a handle on her, Katie leaped from the inside. “Oh, no you don't” He yelled, uncapping a syringe from his car.
She may have tried to get away instantly, but it was not soon enough. Brett ran toward her and shot her in the shoulder with the syringe. Katie screamed as the liquid drained into her arm at a high velocity. She sprinted for the patch of dense trees in one direction. Brett followed behind, grabbing a flashlight from the passengers seat. He tracked the path that Katie had made, pointing the flashlight at the shoe print evidence. He could faintly hear her, swearing as she nearly dodged trees. All of a sudden, though, the running sounds had stopped, and were replaced by a loud CRACK! from only yards away. Brett knew it had been from a trip wire. He placed a few in the woods for situations like this. At the speed she was moving, though, Brett had to act fast. He pointed the flashlight toward her reflection, standing only yards from where she lay. Being careful not to trip himself, he carefully approached her.
Katie lay on the ground, breathing deeply into the dirt beneath her. She tried once again to stand up, but had no luck or ambition. The serum had finally had its effect on her. She turned her head to the sound of expected approaching footsteps as she crawled on the ground to make a last ditch escape attempt. “Leave me alone!” she wheezed, breathing heavy from exhaustion.
Brett had to act fast. He slipped a zip tie from his pocket and placed it around her wrists. Katie weakly flicked them, but there was no prevention from the ties. As quickly as one had been zipped on, the other was zipped around her ankles. Brett then emptied the rest of the syringe into the opposite arm. Katie let out a few momentary shrieks while succumbing to the effects of the serum shooting through her. In an instant, however, she had passed out face down in the dirt beneath her.
*********
Katie woke up two hours later, feeling some mild grogginess. She immediately figured she was tied up by looking at the stocks that held her feet in place in front of her. The toes had also been tied to small bolts that hung out from the stocks. She tried once to pull her feet free, but soon realized the futility. She looked left and right for her arms, but with a look up, she discovered them tied to the ceiling above her. Her wrists had been crossed and the ziptie was now replaced with thick ropes that secured the arms so they could not be pulled in any direction. “Help!” she screamed. “Somebody! Get me out of here!”
Brett had been watching the camera in her room from his TV upstairs. He marveled at her resistance. She shook and jumped to attempt her escape, but only caused herself more exhaustion. It was only a short while later when the door opened in front of her. “Hello, Katie.”
“Where's Christine?” she asked, staring him in the eye.
“We'll get to that later. In the meantime, I just want to ask you: Are you ticklish?”
“Of course I am. Isn't everybody?” she said sarcastically.
“Where is it the worst?” he asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Why do you ask?” she replied cautiously.
“I just wanted to know!” he shouted, getting inches from her face.
“M...my feet!” she shouted, crying afterward. “Please, just let me go!”
“That's all I needed to know.”
Brett darted out of the room, only to return seconds later. He dragged Christine into the room behind him, placing her in a chair behind Katie. She was unrecognizable to Katie, however, because of what she was wearing. A plain black T-shirt and shorts occupied her body, while a cloth hood was placed over her head. Her hair had been tucked underneath and a small gag was stuffed into her mouth. After being forced into a chair, Christine's hands were placed on Katie's ribs as Brett stood next to her. “Go.” he ordered, pointing at Christine.
Christine immediately began her tickle assault on Katie. Her fingers poked at her ribs, forcing sudden laughter from her. She tried pulling her arms down to herself, but only leaned in further to the tickling. Brett watched from the side as Christine started tickling up and down the ribs, getting all of them with each pass. Katie now violently struggled. Not used to being tickled like this, Katie fought to breathe, sucking in air at each available moment. “Oh god,” she screamed. “This is torture!”
As the tickle torture on Katie continued, Christine thought to herself of her own ordeal. For the past year, Brett had been threatening her that if she attempted escape or resisted his orders, she would be tickled, or worse, until she died. The fear he had instilled in her, the utter hatred for everyone in the world but him, including herself, combined with the non-stop torture, had really blown her psyche out of control. She was afraid to now ask permission for anything, even to breathe or to eat, for the fear of his wrath and control. She bit down on her gag, shook her face around in the hood, and sighed to herself as the tickle torture continued in front of her. “Thank you, dear,” Brett said, finally grabbing a hold of her wrists.
Christine stood up robotically, standing at attention. He lead her from her chair and over to the wall. He took the metal chains that hung and placed one around each wrist. Christine stood with her head down as he finished and stared back at Katie in silence. She stood in disbelief at what she had just done, but those were the orders, she thought, watching and fearing the all-familiar situation of what was going to happen next.
“This is your brief session,” Brett told her, “to get you acquainted with what will happen from now on. By the end of these times, you will be so willing to stop the tickling that you will do whatever it takes. Isn't that right?”
Brett just stared over at Christine, but her gaze was focused dead center. She watched carefully as Brett picked up a hairbrush from the floor next to him. “Let's see how this goes,” he said, stroking her feet slowly.
Katie went apeshit. Her head flung back towards her arms as she fought with her toes against the brush. She did not even try to hold in her laughter as the plastic barbs scraped against her feet. Harder the next time, Katie's laughter became deeper, showing her full teeth while belting it out as loud as she could. “It's not going to stop,” he told her, getting the center of the sole.
“Plehhhhehehehese! Please!” she screamed, trying to break all of the ropes that held her. She attempted to wiggle her toes, which gave her no help. In fact, Brett began to brush along her toes instead. Katie swung backward, her face toward the ceiling as her knuckles turned white from squeezing them.
Christine watched in terror at the reactions of her friend. Katie looked over at her several times during the session. She could see her looking away at times, but mostly staring straight ahead. She made no noise or movement as Katie was viciously tortured with the hairbrush. Katie could not figure out her true identity. Her face was too covered and her body did not carry the same shape as Christine's. This girl was slightly skinnier and lighter than Christine had been.
Katie didn't have much time to worry about that, though. The scrapings from the brush occupied almost her whole thought process at the moment. She buried her head in her arms, trying to mentally escape the scenario. She could not, however, control the effect the tickling had on her. She hollered, wept, and rambled while laughing at the situation.
Brett watched as her face turned red. He could see her need to breathe was coming soon. He let up slightly on Katie as she clung to consciousness. She was near her breaking point, laying slightly to her side while continuing to hoarsely laugh. Suddenly, though, Brett had stopped his tickling. Walking away from her, he went over to Christine and unchained her from the wall, placing cuffs around her wrists and behind her back. “We'll see you later.” he told her, flipping off the light to her room before walking out, Christine in tow.
Katie hung like a wet shirt from her bonds. She forced herself to cry a little, letting several tears roll down her cheek. “Please, let me survive this,” she thought, closing her eyes warily.
Wednesday started out like every other day that week. Katie woke up at six AM to the sound of a screaming alarm, got ready to go in record time, and was out the door by 6:30. Walking to the car in the dark was more chilling than the fall air, even if the sun was just beginning to rise.
She stared at her car, walking swiftly towards it. Her key was clenched in her hand and positioned between her index and middle fingers. Even though it had only been a little over a year, the thought of Christine's abrupt disappearance was still fresh within her mind. “Whatever happened to her,” she thought, “I want no part of it.”
Brett crouched silently behind her car, holding a position so that his head was invisible behind her trunk. He clenched a large steak knife in one hand, pointing it toward the ground, tapping his fingers against the blade in anticipation. “This is so hot,” he thought to himself as he sat there, preparing to strike at any given moment.
Katie arrived at the door of her car, holding her key in one hand as she looked in the window to see if anyone was standing behind her. Suddenly, someone came from the side of her car, not from behind like she had thought. He ran around the car, ran toward her and grabbed her from behind with one arm. Katie struggled violently, ducking down to attempt escape. “Hold still!” he whispered commandingly, holding the knife in the air for her to see.
Katie backed up a few steps as Brett approached her. She again stuck her keys between her fingers, preparing to return any attack that Brett had planned. “I'm not going to hurt you,” Brett said, putting the knife away and reaching out to her. “Just cooperate and I promise it'll be a lot better on you.”
Within an inch from her wrists, Katie grabbed both of Brett's hands instead. She tossed them aside and ran in the opposite direction. “Come back here!” He yelled, chasing after her. “You won't get away!”
Katie scrambled to get inside her house, tripping over shadows on the ground as she nervously tried to escape. Brett was in hot pursuit, chasing after her on the way to her house. She fumbled with her keys to locate the correct one, but dropped them on the ground in front of her instead. “Come on!” she screamed.
Brett hid in plain sight behind her, holding his arms in front of him, ready to strike at any second. He put on a pair of gardening gloves that he had jammed into his pocket. Katie only had a second to look behind her before a hand was forcibly clamped around her suddenly surprised open mouth. “There you go, that's it. Settle down, it'll be a lot easier for both of us.”
Katie did not want to accept the easy route. She clamped on the glove that muffled her mouth, only to release shortly after. A liquid had surged from the material that now caused Katie to gag violently. She tried to shake her head to offset the horrible smell and taste that now consumed her senses. “You like it?” he said sarcastically. “I had been told that you were a fighter. I soaked these gloves in some old milk about a week ago and let them sit there until this morning.”
Katie was indeed too busy with the horrible taste in her mouth and removing Brett's hand from it that she didn't notice that she was being dragged. Brett had left his trunk open earlier, which made it easier for him to quickly push her into the trunk. Katie made an insignificant last minute effort to push him away, but she was now too nauseated to attempt the escape. She dug her heels into the ground as he quickly gave her a shove into the dark opening. Before Katie could even put her arms up, the trunk lid had slammed on top of her. Katie noticed the escape latch, but when she pulled it, no results. The trunk lid was stationary. “Come on, you son of a bitch!” she yelled, violently ripping at the latch.
Brett turned off the radio and listened to the chaos behind him. He put his head against the seat as Katie pushed against all areas of her confined space. “Do that all you like,” he told her. “It won't help you any.”
The car pulled into the driveway, abruptly stopping at the end. Katie flew against the seats, covering her head with her hands to brace the impact. She heard the trunk opening behind her, but before Brett could get a handle on her, Katie leaped from the inside. “Oh, no you don't” He yelled, uncapping a syringe from his car.
She may have tried to get away instantly, but it was not soon enough. Brett ran toward her and shot her in the shoulder with the syringe. Katie screamed as the liquid drained into her arm at a high velocity. She sprinted for the patch of dense trees in one direction. Brett followed behind, grabbing a flashlight from the passengers seat. He tracked the path that Katie had made, pointing the flashlight at the shoe print evidence. He could faintly hear her, swearing as she nearly dodged trees. All of a sudden, though, the running sounds had stopped, and were replaced by a loud CRACK! from only yards away. Brett knew it had been from a trip wire. He placed a few in the woods for situations like this. At the speed she was moving, though, Brett had to act fast. He pointed the flashlight toward her reflection, standing only yards from where she lay. Being careful not to trip himself, he carefully approached her.
Katie lay on the ground, breathing deeply into the dirt beneath her. She tried once again to stand up, but had no luck or ambition. The serum had finally had its effect on her. She turned her head to the sound of expected approaching footsteps as she crawled on the ground to make a last ditch escape attempt. “Leave me alone!” she wheezed, breathing heavy from exhaustion.
Brett had to act fast. He slipped a zip tie from his pocket and placed it around her wrists. Katie weakly flicked them, but there was no prevention from the ties. As quickly as one had been zipped on, the other was zipped around her ankles. Brett then emptied the rest of the syringe into the opposite arm. Katie let out a few momentary shrieks while succumbing to the effects of the serum shooting through her. In an instant, however, she had passed out face down in the dirt beneath her.
*********
Katie woke up two hours later, feeling some mild grogginess. She immediately figured she was tied up by looking at the stocks that held her feet in place in front of her. The toes had also been tied to small bolts that hung out from the stocks. She tried once to pull her feet free, but soon realized the futility. She looked left and right for her arms, but with a look up, she discovered them tied to the ceiling above her. Her wrists had been crossed and the ziptie was now replaced with thick ropes that secured the arms so they could not be pulled in any direction. “Help!” she screamed. “Somebody! Get me out of here!”
Brett had been watching the camera in her room from his TV upstairs. He marveled at her resistance. She shook and jumped to attempt her escape, but only caused herself more exhaustion. It was only a short while later when the door opened in front of her. “Hello, Katie.”
“Where's Christine?” she asked, staring him in the eye.
“We'll get to that later. In the meantime, I just want to ask you: Are you ticklish?”
“Of course I am. Isn't everybody?” she said sarcastically.
“Where is it the worst?” he asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Why do you ask?” she replied cautiously.
“I just wanted to know!” he shouted, getting inches from her face.
“M...my feet!” she shouted, crying afterward. “Please, just let me go!”
“That's all I needed to know.”
Brett darted out of the room, only to return seconds later. He dragged Christine into the room behind him, placing her in a chair behind Katie. She was unrecognizable to Katie, however, because of what she was wearing. A plain black T-shirt and shorts occupied her body, while a cloth hood was placed over her head. Her hair had been tucked underneath and a small gag was stuffed into her mouth. After being forced into a chair, Christine's hands were placed on Katie's ribs as Brett stood next to her. “Go.” he ordered, pointing at Christine.
Christine immediately began her tickle assault on Katie. Her fingers poked at her ribs, forcing sudden laughter from her. She tried pulling her arms down to herself, but only leaned in further to the tickling. Brett watched from the side as Christine started tickling up and down the ribs, getting all of them with each pass. Katie now violently struggled. Not used to being tickled like this, Katie fought to breathe, sucking in air at each available moment. “Oh god,” she screamed. “This is torture!”
As the tickle torture on Katie continued, Christine thought to herself of her own ordeal. For the past year, Brett had been threatening her that if she attempted escape or resisted his orders, she would be tickled, or worse, until she died. The fear he had instilled in her, the utter hatred for everyone in the world but him, including herself, combined with the non-stop torture, had really blown her psyche out of control. She was afraid to now ask permission for anything, even to breathe or to eat, for the fear of his wrath and control. She bit down on her gag, shook her face around in the hood, and sighed to herself as the tickle torture continued in front of her. “Thank you, dear,” Brett said, finally grabbing a hold of her wrists.
Christine stood up robotically, standing at attention. He lead her from her chair and over to the wall. He took the metal chains that hung and placed one around each wrist. Christine stood with her head down as he finished and stared back at Katie in silence. She stood in disbelief at what she had just done, but those were the orders, she thought, watching and fearing the all-familiar situation of what was going to happen next.
“This is your brief session,” Brett told her, “to get you acquainted with what will happen from now on. By the end of these times, you will be so willing to stop the tickling that you will do whatever it takes. Isn't that right?”
Brett just stared over at Christine, but her gaze was focused dead center. She watched carefully as Brett picked up a hairbrush from the floor next to him. “Let's see how this goes,” he said, stroking her feet slowly.
Katie went apeshit. Her head flung back towards her arms as she fought with her toes against the brush. She did not even try to hold in her laughter as the plastic barbs scraped against her feet. Harder the next time, Katie's laughter became deeper, showing her full teeth while belting it out as loud as she could. “It's not going to stop,” he told her, getting the center of the sole.
“Plehhhhehehehese! Please!” she screamed, trying to break all of the ropes that held her. She attempted to wiggle her toes, which gave her no help. In fact, Brett began to brush along her toes instead. Katie swung backward, her face toward the ceiling as her knuckles turned white from squeezing them.
Christine watched in terror at the reactions of her friend. Katie looked over at her several times during the session. She could see her looking away at times, but mostly staring straight ahead. She made no noise or movement as Katie was viciously tortured with the hairbrush. Katie could not figure out her true identity. Her face was too covered and her body did not carry the same shape as Christine's. This girl was slightly skinnier and lighter than Christine had been.
Katie didn't have much time to worry about that, though. The scrapings from the brush occupied almost her whole thought process at the moment. She buried her head in her arms, trying to mentally escape the scenario. She could not, however, control the effect the tickling had on her. She hollered, wept, and rambled while laughing at the situation.
Brett watched as her face turned red. He could see her need to breathe was coming soon. He let up slightly on Katie as she clung to consciousness. She was near her breaking point, laying slightly to her side while continuing to hoarsely laugh. Suddenly, though, Brett had stopped his tickling. Walking away from her, he went over to Christine and unchained her from the wall, placing cuffs around her wrists and behind her back. “We'll see you later.” he told her, flipping off the light to her room before walking out, Christine in tow.
Katie hung like a wet shirt from her bonds. She forced herself to cry a little, letting several tears roll down her cheek. “Please, let me survive this,” she thought, closing her eyes warily.
