Someone recently told me I should write more, and I had been kicking a new story idea around in my head for quite some time, so I figured I would write something out.
BE WARNED - this story contains extremely explicit material, including but not limited to - rape fantasy, intense and heavy tickle torture, non-consentual sexual acts, BDSM activities (heavy bondage, blindfolds, ballgags, etc), explicit sexuality, strong language. If you do not appreciate or like topics such as these, please navigate away from this page as this story may not be for you.
If, however, you have a dark side, do read on.
Anyway, this is an idea that came to me in bits and pieces over the course of a few days, and it shows a bit of my dark side. This is part one of a two part story, and I will post the second part of this story based on the feedback from part one. I encourage any and all feedback, good, bad, constructive, or ugly.
Oh, also, it's really long.
Here you go.
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Sarah and Sally
Sarah’s mind was dark. She was swimming in an ocean, but she didn’t need to breathe. Everything moved so slowly, and nothing was clear. She tried to focus her eyes, but it was not easy – it was almost as if something was keeping her drowsy, like she had been drugged. She tried to swim up, but she suddenly couldn’t move. Her arms began stretching out, away from her body. Her legs began to point down. She felt out of breath, and she sucked in a sharp gasp…
…and her body jerked awake. The sudden return to consciousness was startling, and she shrieked softly. Her shriek was muffled, and she knew something was wrong right away.
Tugging at her arms, she felt something wrapped tightly around them, from near her shoulders all the way to her fingers. It was dark and she couldn’t see, but it felt almost like seran wrap or shrink wrap, but thicker, as it was tacky and clingy and it held her arms fast against whatever it was she was restrained to. Her arms were out away from her body, straight out to the sides.
Sarah’s legs were also unable to move. She felt the same kind of wrapping putting pressure on her legs, but it was somehow different, as though it weren’t directly touching her skin. She realized after a moment that under the wrapping she must be wearing stockings – thigh highs, specifically, as she felt nothing around her waist. She tried to call out for help, but her tongue was pressed into her mandible by a ballgag that was tightly buckled around her head. Her call for help came out as little more than a muffled squeak.
She didn’t remember the last time she wore thigh highs, and as she thought about this, she realized she was otherwise entirely naked! A strap was around her waist, securing her midsection to the…table? But that was it. She was suddenly very aware of the chill in the air as it blew gently over her naked torso. With the sudden embarrassment, she blushed, and her nipples began to stiffen.
She turned her head side to side and tried to look around, her shoulder length brown hair whirling around, but the room was pitch black. Her jaw ached a little from the ballgag, and she wondered how long she had been unconscious and tied up like this. She couldn’t move her fingers at all, her arms and legs were entirely immobile, and she couldn’t see at all. She tried to wiggle her toes, but to no avail – some kind of bar or obstruction was pressed against her toes, stretching them back and arching both of her nylon-covered feet. Aside from her head and the eighth of an inch she could wiggle her torso, she was going nowhere.
Sarah hung there, vulnerable, helpless, and naked, trying to look around and mewling into the darkness for only a few minutes. She grew more and more terrified as each moment passed, and wondered if she would just starve to death there, unable to do anything about her predicament.
After what felt like ages, a soft click was heard from across the room. A door swung open fifteen feet in front of her, and the light from the other side of the door was blinding. Sarah screamed into her gag, begging for help, that someone had captured her and put her in this horrible position, hoping that someone had come to rescue her.
But those kind of endings only come in fairy tales. The door swung shut loudly, its hinges creaking as it closed. The blinding light was gone, but soon it was replaced as the man walking into the room flipped a light switch. Several fluorescent overhead lights exploded on, their bright white light filling the room instantly. Sarah squinted and shut her brown eyes, the light painfully overloading her brain. She turned her head to the side involuntarily.
A rough hand grasped her chin as she squeezed her eyes shut, and forced her head to face forward. “Well, what have we here,” asked a male voice, “someone who has something I want.” His hand was soft, but he held her face firmly, his fingertips over the straps of Sarah’s ballgag. He held her face forwards until she slowly blinked her eyes open, squinting and blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the bright lights in the room.
At first, she couldn’t see him despite the lighting. He was nothing but a blur to her, but soon her eyes focused and she could make out his features. He stared straight at her with his hazel eyes. His hair was short and dark brown, and he had a goatee that was trimmed and neat. Under different circumstances, she might find him to be cute – but right now, she was unable to move, entirely naked, and he seemed like he wasn’t going to ask her out on a date.
He let her go, and her head slumped a bit before she started to beg through her gag. Her pleads for release and her questions of “Why,” “Who are you,” and “Where am I” were little more than girlish squeaks and muffled vowels. He walked away from her, off to her right, and out of view.
“So, you’re wondering where you are and why I’ve brought you here, I’m sure. That information is irrelevant – here is what you need to know.” The man pressed a switch on an out-of-view panel, and the whole contraption to which Sarah was bound began to rotate, turning her to her left and towards what looked like a large window. She whimpered pathetically, expecting to be put on some sort of exhibition for a crowd. Her cheeks flushed red again.
“You won a lottery last month and cashed in your ticket for a lump sum payment of over nine million dollars. You have it stored in a large lockbox in a bank two towns over from here in Chicago. You will tell me the location of the key to that lockbox, or else your sister will be punished rather severely.”
The tone of his voice was powerful and authoritative, and the threat sent a chill down Sarah’s spine. But she was confused – she hadn’t spoken to her sister in years, and she wasn’t here, so what the hell was this guy talking about?
Another click was heard from behind her, and the light in the room adjacent to theirs came on. The large window in front of Sarah was now lit, and in the other room she could see her sister, Sally, tightly bound to the same kind of device she was herself – a large table shaped like a person, with arms, legs, and a headrest. Sally was strapped tightly to it, her arms, hands, and legs wrapped in a tight, black rubbery material. A strap around her waist kept her hips on the table and she was blindfolded. She was also wearing thigh highs, black ones, specifically, which were mostly hidden under the material around her legs. Her stockinged feet were exposed, and her toes were held back with a clear rod that stretched her feet out the same way Sarah’s were. The only real difference was that Sally’s table was horizontal – she was laying down, whereas Sarah was in a vertical position, suspended on the table. The only discernable difference between Sarah and her sister was the fact that Sally’s hair was cut short and spiked, while Sarah’s was shoulder length and wavy.
Ungagged, Sally began to scream for help when she sensed the lights coming on. “Hey! Please let me go!! I don’t know who you are but I promise I won’t tell anyone! You can let me go, I won’t call the cops, I promise!!” She turned her head side to side, but the blindfold prevented vision, and after a few moments of trying to bargain, she whimpered and fell silent again.
“Maybe now you understand the seriousness of yours…situation,” the man said. “I will give you one chance, and one chance only to tell me where your key is. Will you?” He walked around in front of Sarah and looked into her eyes.
Sarah’s mind worked on overdrive. She hadn’t seen her sister in years, and the last thing Sally said to her was rather colorful, after a fight over a boyfriend. She had called Sarah a number of different names, most of which could not even be said on Cable TV. Besides, he was talking about nine million dollars! And someone would notice that she was missing – it was Thursday, right? Someone would notice she was out from work without having called out, and eventually start looking for her. She always left her phone on Location Mode, so if they really needed to, they could find her GPS coordinates, assuming her phone was nearby.
Sarah felt defiant. This asshole was not going to get a dime from her, and she was sure that he wasn’t the type to do anything foolish like harm them. Despite her vulnerable state, she shook her head, her grin of defiance lost in the curve of her ballgag.
Her male captor didn’t seem surprised. He quickly turned around and said, “That’s what I thought.” He began walking towards to door. He was so quick to leave, it scared Sarah, and she wondered if she had made the wrong choice. She tried to say, “Wait, come back!” to him, but her gag kept her from making any sense. The muffled words echoes off the walls of her room.
“Too late now. You don’t get another chance to say yes until I say so.” He opened the door, turned off the lights, and slammed it shut.
After several long, quiet minutes, the door to her sister’s captivity room was opened. She could hear every sound clear as a bell – a microphone must have been rigged in there, which transmitted the sounds of the room to an unseen speaker above Sarah. Through the glass, she watched as her unnamed captor walked into the room, a large black duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.
He walked near to Sally’s bondage table, and she squealed in fear. Begging for freedom, she repeatedly asked him to let her go, that she’d done nothing wrong. Her pleas for release fell on deaf ears. The man rested the duffel bag on the floor, just out of Sarah’s sight, and unzipped it. Sarah could hear the zip loud and clear.
The man spoke to the helpless, naked, vulnerable twin sister. “Sally, what you’re about to be put through is because of your sister. She had a chance to save you and have you released, but she refused to allow it. She thought you were not worth her money, that you should suffer for her greed.” Sally cringed, then screamed at the man.
“What did you do to my sister!! I swear to God, I will kill you if you hurt her!” Her sudden burst of courage seemed uncharacteristic, and she quickly calmed down, meekly saying, “please, please don’t hurt us, she’d never do something to put me in danger! Please!”
The man only smiled. “Sarah can hear every word you say. She’s doing nothing to stop me.”
Sarah screamed from behind her ballgag in the next room, knowing now that this guy meant business. She expected her poor helpless sister to be murdered or raped, or both. A heavy pit of sorrow sank into her stomach as she thought of all the horrible things that might now happen to her estranged sister, all because she was greedy and bold.
Her fears diminished when she saw the first thing the man took from his duffel bag. Instead of a knife or a gun, he took out a long white feather. Sarah watched intently as she tried to figure out what he might do with it…
“Oh, no,” she thought. “he’s going to…tickle her.” For all the guilt she felt for her sister, she was somewhat glad it was Sally and not her being ‘punished.’ When the twins were children, before adult life got in the way and separated the two of them, they were two of the most ticklish people in the world. Their parents, friend, and significant others always found it so amusing to tickle torture the two of them. As long as Sarah could remember, her father, boyfriend, or anyone else who knew her weakness, would pin her down and tickle her mercilessly, often resulting in shortness of breath or, more embarrassingly, her wetting her pants. Sarah knew she was incredibly ticklish all over, from her neck and earlobes, her underarms and ribcage, all the way down to the bottoms of her smooth feet. It was the one thing she could never stand, and she never understood why everyone found it so fucking funny.
She also knew that her sister was just as sensitive. Occasionally, when they were kids, they’d get into tickle fights when they had an argument, and both of them would end up collapsed on the floor in a heap of girlish giggles after a while, neither of them ever remembering what they were originally fighting about. All they knew was they both were insanely ticklish, and that neither of them enjoyed it as children. Sarah hated it even to this day, and had a hard time staying with a boyfriend because of it.
Sarah’s eyes grew wide as she watched the man approach her sister with the long, white, stiff feather. Sally had no idea what was coming to her, and Sarah couldn’t do anything to stop it or even warn her sister. She cringed as the feather made contact with Sally’s outstretched left underarm and began to slide down her naked flesh.
Sally squealed in surprise and ticklishness as the tendrils of the feather began their course along her ribcage. From the pit of her underarm down to her waist, then across her tummy and back up her right side the feather slid, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the poor helpless girl. She began to beg already, knowing that this was only the beginning.
“No no no no no, please don’t, no don’t tickle meeeee!!!!” The last bit of her sentence was drawn out as the feather slide back down her side and retraced it’s trail in the opposite direction. She giggled frantically as the tip of the feather began to swirl in her smooth shaven left underarm, the tip of the feather just barely grazing her skin. Her hear swiveled to the other side as if to shy away from the sensation.
The man was intent on making her suffer. The feather danced in her creamy smooth underarm, swirling, circling, figure-eighting across her delicate skin. Sally shrieked and squirmed, unable to do anything at all to cease the sensation. She giggled, laughed, and begged for this not to be her fate, anything but tickling. The feather danced along her flesh carelessly, and her captor had a cruel look of intent on his face.
Several minutes went by, and the evil man slid the feather along her sides and into each underarm, spending long, agonizing moments teasing and tickling Sally’s underarms. The cruel feather seemed like an extension of his hand, effortlessly causing the poor girl to squeal and giggle madly, her head tossing left and right over and over again as she tried desperately to block out the intense sensations.
After a bit, the man paused only for a moment, to reach into the bag again and obtain a second feather. He went right back to work as Sally’s pleas for mercy began again, begging like the helpless little woman she was for the tickling to stop. A feather in each armpit, poor Sally struggled to form words as they swirled and stroked her sensitive skin. The ticklish sensations shocked her nerves as her sister, bound tightly in the other room, watched in horror.
Sarah couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her helpless sister, who looked almost identical to herself, was being cruelly tickle tortured for money? How long would this go on? Would this man really be willing to tickle her until her sister gave in? Or would he tire?
Or would it get worse?
As Sarah realized that last thought, another chill shot through her body. “No,” she thought, “tickling her won’t make me give it up. I’m strong, and I know my sister is as well, I am sure we’ll hold out until someone finds us!”
While Sarah was finishing that thought, the man in the next room brought his feather torture of Sally’s smooth underarms to an end. He gave her armpits one final flick of the feathertips, and put them back in the bag. Sally’s chest rose and fell repeatedly, rapidly, as if she’d just run a mile. Her nipples were standing stiff and her neck was flush with pink from the exertion. She actually began thanking the man. “Oh, god…thank you…please, no more, I am too ticklish, please…”
Her break was short lived, however. Only a few moments later, the man had repositioned himself, standing above Sally, near her head. With no warning, he reached down with both hands and began to pinch and tickle her naked, stretched out ribs. Sally screamed loudly, her head coming up off the headrest of her table as she erupted into laughter. Her torturer’s fingertips rapidly prodded along her bare flesh, wiggling against her ribs and stroking from front to back. He tickled up and down her helpless upperbody, from just under her armpits down to her lower ribs, then back up.
Every few moments, he’d change tactics. He’d use prodding, wiggling motions with the tips of his fingers for a while, then he’d spider his hands and use his nails more, scratching and stroking her ribs. The poor girl’s laughter was frantic; Sally screamed and gasped, her perky breasts jiggling as her chest heaved, her nipples standing straight up at attention. Her mouth hung open as she laughed hysterically, drawing in sharp, short breaths, the air being forced out just as quickly with her maddening laughter.
“OOH GOD AAHAHAHAHAHAAA *gasp* PLEASE PLEAPLEEEEAHAHAHAH!!” Sally screamed as the tickle torture continued. Sarah couldn’t believe what she was watching. All of this was just because she wouldn’t tell the man where her lockbox key was? There had to be more to it than that, she thought to herself. “NO NO NO AAAHAHAHAHAHA I’LL DO ANYTHING *gasp*, PLEASE MAKE IT STAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAP!” Sally wailed in the throes of her ticklish torture.
Sally would have curled her toes if she could, but her stockinged feet were locked into place, unable to even wiggle. Little did Sarah know that this was going to come to an end no time soon, and that her poor helpless, naked sister’s tickling was only beginning.
Several long, agonizing minutes later, the cruel, evil tickle torturer finally gave poor Sally a break. Residual giggles and laughter dribbled from her lips as she calmed down from the tickles. She slumped in her tight, effective restraints, her head lolling to one side as she tried to catch her breath. She softly begged, her energy sapped. “Please….oh god, hehehe…please don’t do that again…oh, my god..”
The man looked down at her lovely nude body and smiled, then turned to the window into Sarah’s room. He left Sally’s room and quickly opened to door to her sister’s, walking towards Sarah briskly. Sarah bristled and quivered, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t turn his torturous attentions to her and make her scream like that.
He boomed at her, “Tell me where they key is NOW!” Sarah would have jumped back away from him had she been physically able to, and her fear paralyzed her. Just the thought of being tortured like that shook her entire mindset, and she froze up. She wanted so badly to say, “Yes, yes, I’ll tell you where it is, it’s in my bedroom!!” But her terror wouldn’t allow it, nor would her ballgag. She simply stared in terror at the man as he waited for her response, unable to make a sound, voluntary or otherwise, her big brown eyes wide as dinner plates.
The man waited only a few seconds before his patience seemed to wear thin. “Fine, have it your way,” he said, and he quickly disappeared behind her. Sarah heard him rummaging through something, through he was out of view, and jumped in her restraints when she felt his hands reaching around her right thigh.
She shrieked, the first sound she’d been able to make in sometime, not wanting this man to violate her. Her thigh quivered as she tugged on her restraints, but this did not deter the man at all. He buckled some sort of strap or belt around her upper thigh, then another one around her other leg. He also attached a pair of clasps to the belt around her waist, then he disappeared again.
Sarah heard him moving behind her bondage table, and she heard a slick sound, as if the man were rubbing something wet between his hands. The sound only lasted a few moments, and a sudden cold sensation between her legs made her shriek in surprise and shame.
The man slid a vibrator roughly inside her womanhood. He had lathered it up with lubricant so as to avoid friction, and it slid easily inside her, filling her pussy almost instantly. She screamed through her ballgag and thrashed her head back and forth; it was violating and demeaning, and goddamnit it was cold! The lubricant felt almost like it had been in the refrigerator! She clenched her eyes shut as the vibrator was fastened into place. She quivered at the sensation of cold and shame that coursed through her body. She hated this man, and she wanted this to end.
As the man stood up, holding a small remote with a dial on it on one hand, Sarah pleaded through her gag. “Please”, she tried to say, “stop this and let me go! I’ll tell you what you want to know!” Of course, it only came out as a muffled string of unintelligible sounds. The man smiled.
As he turned and walked away, he said over his shoulder, “Too late now. You’re in this for the long haul.” He slammed the door shut behind him as he left the room.
Sarah hung there for several long minutes. The vibrator, though perfectly still, was everpresent in her mind. The lubricant that he used to slide it into her had warmed up nicely, but she still hated it. She felt so violated, so helpless, so ashamed. And to make things worse, the damned thing was buckled in – no amount of muscle flexing or quivering would shake it loose! She tried flexing her keagel muscles to push it out, but that only served to send unwanted waves of pleasure through her body.
The light was on in the other room, and her sister lay there, still breathing heavier than normal, her mouth open a tiny bit. She said nothing, only laying there helplessly as the door to her room opened again. In walked their captor, with that remote control in his hand. He rested it on Sally’s tummy, placing it there while he walked down to the end of the table, near her helplessly stretched, nyloned soles.
Sally whimpered. Both she and her sister in the other room knew that begging and asking for mercy was a lost cause now. Sally squealed as the man’s index finger slip along her left stockinged sole. He started it near her heel and trailed it slowly up her stretched arch, ending the trail just below her toe stems. She squealed again when he did the same thing to her other foot. She suddenly screamed, a loud, long scream as the man used all ten fingertips to begin scribbling along her smooth, helpless, ticklish nyloned arches.
Trying to buck off the table, she squirmed and wiggled madly. Sarah knew that her own most ticklish spot was her feet, and she could only imagine how sensitive her sister’s were. The cruel fingertips stroked up and down along the smooth surface of poor Sally’s soles and she laughed hysterically into the cool air of the room.
“NOOOO NOT MY FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEET!! *gasp* AAAAAAAAH GOD NO *gasp*PLEEEEHEEHEEHEAAHAHAHAHASEEE!! *gasp* AAAHAHAHA OH I’LL DO ANYTHING PLEASSSE!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her head thrashing back and forth rapidly, side to side as she laughed loud and long. The fingertips slid up and down, covering her poor ticklish arches, stroking effortlessly along the immobile and super-sensitive soles.
This went on for several long, arduous minutes; Sally screaming with agonized laughter, the evil man sliding his fingers along her still, stockinged soles, Sarah watching helplessly from the other room. For a while, Sarah had forgotten all about the vibrator that was lodged inside her – until her poor sister’s laughter and gyrating tummy made the remote fall from her and onto the floor.
The man stopped tickling, but Sally continued laughing. Her body quivered and shook with residual sensations as the man picked up the remote. He turned the dial ever so slightly to the right, and Sarah shrieked with surprise as the vibrator inside her began to buzz. She whimpered pitifully while it vibrated, buzzing softly inside her involuntarily slick vagina.
Over the sound of the vibrator, she heard another noise. It sounded almost like an egg timer. Watching the man as he placed the remote on a nearby table, she realized what the sound was, and what it meant for her.
She had seen it online once while browsing from her bedroom computer. Someone had designed a remote control for a vibrator that gradually increased the power of the toy over time. By turning it on, you started it on the lowest setting. Over the course of several minutes, the remote would send stronger and stronger signals to the vibrator it was associated with, causing it to pleasure the “wearer” more and more until climax, when the wearer could then turn it off. However, since Sarah wasn’t in control of the remote, she know that mean only one thing – unless her captor turned it off, it would get more and more powerful until it reached it’s highest setting, and there it would stay.
Sarah fought to ignore the sensations that so starkly contrasted the way she felt. The vibrator, buzzing softly and quietly, was sending tiny ripples of pleasure through her thighs and tummy. As much as she hated watching her sister’s torture, she just couldn’t look away, and the shame and helplessness she felt conflicted with the pleasure forcing it’s way into her womanhood.
After only a second or two, the man went back to tickling the poor helpless feet of Sally. She erupted into renewed screams of agony as lightning bolts of ticklishness shot up her legs and into her mind. She didn’t even bother begging or pleading anymore, she simply laughed and laughed and laughed. Gasping for breath between the staccato waves of laughter, she wheezed and coughed occasionally as the tickle torture of her nyloned soles went on and on.
Meanwhile, next door, Sarah was having trouble concentrating. She tried so hard to focus on her anger and hate for this man, but the vibrator buzzing between her legs was getting stronger. She watched the man as he slid his fingertips up and down her sister’s helpless soles, stroking her arches and scratching under her held-back toes. She listened to Sally’s tortured laughter and involuntarily thought about how it would feel to be tickled that mercilessly. Her attention faded from her anger and the sensations in her womanhood intensified, causing her to crotch to moisten with her own juices of arousal. She began to breathe heavier, to gasp against her gag, to mewl in sexual arousal. The constantly buzzing vibrator just kept giving her pleasure, and it was nearly impossible to ignore it.
As her pleasure mounted, she realized something. Looking at the man who was torturing her sister, she noticed a bulge in his jeans. He wasn’t just in this for the money, he was getting his rocks off too! And immediately on the tail of that thought, a new fear entered her mind.
“Oh no, he’s going to rape Sally!”
As if the man had heard her thoughts, he leaned down between the outstretched legs of his helpless victim. Sarah screamed for him not to, but he began to slide his tongue up and down along Sally’s bare, shaved pussy lips. He stroked his wet tongue up and down along her womanhood as he tickled her feet with both hands, and Sally’s laughter was very suddenly interrupted by a long, loud moan of pleasure. Sarah couldn’t believe her sister was enjoying the attention, given that it was all under such horrible, illegal circumstances.
Of course, she couldn’t ignore her own pleasurable feelings. Sarah could feel her own clit, very aware of how horny she was. Unable to admit to herself that she wanted to feel his tongue on her ****, she struggled against her restraints, trying again to free herself, or to just wiggle the vibrator loose. By now, the power of the vibe had increased quite a bit, and flexing her ab muscles only made her grind against it. Sharp pleasure shot through her body with every motion and she was forced to give in to the pleasure.
Slumping against her restraints again, she watched as the man’s tongue invaded her sister’s pussy and his fingertips stroked up and down her nylon covered soles. In her shame, tears began to well up in Sarah’s eyes. They welled up even faster when the man stopped licking her sister’s **** and used one hand to unzip his jeans, and Sarah began to bawl tears as he forcefully slammed his rock hard member into Sally’s now-soaked ****.
Sally screamed at the top of her lung, both in surprise and forced pleasure, as the cock slammed deep into her. She gasped as he thrusted in and out of her, and she was only able to whimper out a couple “please” and “no”s before giving in entirely to the sensation. Sarah could only imagine how her mind must be swimming now.
Sarah began to scream. The pleasure that was driving up through her body was unbearable, and tears were flowing down her face from the shame of having to watch her sister be so brutally violated. Screaming over and over, her throat began to feel sore as her first orgasm began to rip through her body. She clenched her eyes shut as she listened to her sister’s cries of forced pleasure, and tears rolled down her cheeks as her body shook in climax. For several long seconds, her abs clenched and her pussy quivered around the slick, buzzing vibrator, her pent up, forced sexual frustration releasing.
Yet, it was not over. The vibrator was still not to full power yet, and the man was not finished with the two. He could hear Sarah’s screams from the other room, and as he thrusted his rock hard cock in and out of Sally’s tight, quivering pussy, he reached down with both hands and began to tickle her – hard.
His hands started on her waist. He lobster clawed her hips and dug his fingers and thumbs under her hipbones, making the poor girl scream in intense ticklish agony. His hands then scribbled up her ribs, prodding and wiggling their fingertips along her helpless, naked flesh and into her underarms, where they swirled and scratched her smooth, ticklish pits.
Sally began to cry. Tears moistened her blindfold and her voice began to wail as she screamed in ticklish laughter and forced sexual pleasure. Her voice was becoming hoarse as this went on, and she was unable to help the coming climax that threatened to rock her naked, helpless, exhausted body.
Sarah, still slumped in her bondage, continued to scream as the vibrator between her legs reached it’s full strength. Drool hung down from her lips, resting on her bare breasts. Her own mind was swimming, the room spinning around her. She could barely make out the sight of her sister being fucked and tickle tortured against her will, but she could clearly hear her scream of desperate, tired agony and pleasure. She also could clearly hear the man torturing her making grunting noises, and she knew this was going to come to an end soon. The powerfully buzzing vibrator between her legs made her abs tense involuntarily once again, and she let out one final, muffled, scream of desperate pleasure as her second orgasm rushed through her body.
Spurred on by the screams of two desperate women, the man thrusted harder and harder into Sally’s ****, tickling her ribs mercilessly. He could feel Sally’s pussy quivering again, and he pounded into her over and over, grunting loudly as he began to orgasm. His rock hard member shot it’s load deep into Sally’s pussy as she orgasmed at the same time, her pussy clenching tightly around his thrusting, rigid cock. For several seconds, the two orgasmed together, the man no longer tickling her exhausted body and just thrusting himself in and out of her.
Sally’s head lolled to the side and her screams ceased. She had fallen unconscious. The intense combination of tickling and pleasure was too much for her to bear, and she laid there, still. The man slid his member out of her **** and it dripped with semen and arousal juice, and he pulled his pants back up. Reaching for the remote for Sarah’s vibrator, he turned it off.
Sarah’s head hung limply down, her chin resting on her heated chest. She couldn’t move a muscle even if she weren’t tied up so tightly. After only a few moments, she heard the door to her room open, and the man walked in.
“Where is it,” he asked, in a soft, low voice. He unbuckled Sarah’s ballgag, and she slowly smacked her lips together, swallowing the spit that had collected.
“I…..” she began, “…..it’s in my….my pillowcase….”
Then, she slept.
BE WARNED - this story contains extremely explicit material, including but not limited to - rape fantasy, intense and heavy tickle torture, non-consentual sexual acts, BDSM activities (heavy bondage, blindfolds, ballgags, etc), explicit sexuality, strong language. If you do not appreciate or like topics such as these, please navigate away from this page as this story may not be for you.
If, however, you have a dark side, do read on.
Anyway, this is an idea that came to me in bits and pieces over the course of a few days, and it shows a bit of my dark side. This is part one of a two part story, and I will post the second part of this story based on the feedback from part one. I encourage any and all feedback, good, bad, constructive, or ugly.
Oh, also, it's really long.
Here you go.
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Sarah and Sally
Sarah’s mind was dark. She was swimming in an ocean, but she didn’t need to breathe. Everything moved so slowly, and nothing was clear. She tried to focus her eyes, but it was not easy – it was almost as if something was keeping her drowsy, like she had been drugged. She tried to swim up, but she suddenly couldn’t move. Her arms began stretching out, away from her body. Her legs began to point down. She felt out of breath, and she sucked in a sharp gasp…
…and her body jerked awake. The sudden return to consciousness was startling, and she shrieked softly. Her shriek was muffled, and she knew something was wrong right away.
Tugging at her arms, she felt something wrapped tightly around them, from near her shoulders all the way to her fingers. It was dark and she couldn’t see, but it felt almost like seran wrap or shrink wrap, but thicker, as it was tacky and clingy and it held her arms fast against whatever it was she was restrained to. Her arms were out away from her body, straight out to the sides.
Sarah’s legs were also unable to move. She felt the same kind of wrapping putting pressure on her legs, but it was somehow different, as though it weren’t directly touching her skin. She realized after a moment that under the wrapping she must be wearing stockings – thigh highs, specifically, as she felt nothing around her waist. She tried to call out for help, but her tongue was pressed into her mandible by a ballgag that was tightly buckled around her head. Her call for help came out as little more than a muffled squeak.
She didn’t remember the last time she wore thigh highs, and as she thought about this, she realized she was otherwise entirely naked! A strap was around her waist, securing her midsection to the…table? But that was it. She was suddenly very aware of the chill in the air as it blew gently over her naked torso. With the sudden embarrassment, she blushed, and her nipples began to stiffen.
She turned her head side to side and tried to look around, her shoulder length brown hair whirling around, but the room was pitch black. Her jaw ached a little from the ballgag, and she wondered how long she had been unconscious and tied up like this. She couldn’t move her fingers at all, her arms and legs were entirely immobile, and she couldn’t see at all. She tried to wiggle her toes, but to no avail – some kind of bar or obstruction was pressed against her toes, stretching them back and arching both of her nylon-covered feet. Aside from her head and the eighth of an inch she could wiggle her torso, she was going nowhere.
Sarah hung there, vulnerable, helpless, and naked, trying to look around and mewling into the darkness for only a few minutes. She grew more and more terrified as each moment passed, and wondered if she would just starve to death there, unable to do anything about her predicament.
After what felt like ages, a soft click was heard from across the room. A door swung open fifteen feet in front of her, and the light from the other side of the door was blinding. Sarah screamed into her gag, begging for help, that someone had captured her and put her in this horrible position, hoping that someone had come to rescue her.
But those kind of endings only come in fairy tales. The door swung shut loudly, its hinges creaking as it closed. The blinding light was gone, but soon it was replaced as the man walking into the room flipped a light switch. Several fluorescent overhead lights exploded on, their bright white light filling the room instantly. Sarah squinted and shut her brown eyes, the light painfully overloading her brain. She turned her head to the side involuntarily.
A rough hand grasped her chin as she squeezed her eyes shut, and forced her head to face forward. “Well, what have we here,” asked a male voice, “someone who has something I want.” His hand was soft, but he held her face firmly, his fingertips over the straps of Sarah’s ballgag. He held her face forwards until she slowly blinked her eyes open, squinting and blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the bright lights in the room.
At first, she couldn’t see him despite the lighting. He was nothing but a blur to her, but soon her eyes focused and she could make out his features. He stared straight at her with his hazel eyes. His hair was short and dark brown, and he had a goatee that was trimmed and neat. Under different circumstances, she might find him to be cute – but right now, she was unable to move, entirely naked, and he seemed like he wasn’t going to ask her out on a date.
He let her go, and her head slumped a bit before she started to beg through her gag. Her pleads for release and her questions of “Why,” “Who are you,” and “Where am I” were little more than girlish squeaks and muffled vowels. He walked away from her, off to her right, and out of view.
“So, you’re wondering where you are and why I’ve brought you here, I’m sure. That information is irrelevant – here is what you need to know.” The man pressed a switch on an out-of-view panel, and the whole contraption to which Sarah was bound began to rotate, turning her to her left and towards what looked like a large window. She whimpered pathetically, expecting to be put on some sort of exhibition for a crowd. Her cheeks flushed red again.
“You won a lottery last month and cashed in your ticket for a lump sum payment of over nine million dollars. You have it stored in a large lockbox in a bank two towns over from here in Chicago. You will tell me the location of the key to that lockbox, or else your sister will be punished rather severely.”
The tone of his voice was powerful and authoritative, and the threat sent a chill down Sarah’s spine. But she was confused – she hadn’t spoken to her sister in years, and she wasn’t here, so what the hell was this guy talking about?
Another click was heard from behind her, and the light in the room adjacent to theirs came on. The large window in front of Sarah was now lit, and in the other room she could see her sister, Sally, tightly bound to the same kind of device she was herself – a large table shaped like a person, with arms, legs, and a headrest. Sally was strapped tightly to it, her arms, hands, and legs wrapped in a tight, black rubbery material. A strap around her waist kept her hips on the table and she was blindfolded. She was also wearing thigh highs, black ones, specifically, which were mostly hidden under the material around her legs. Her stockinged feet were exposed, and her toes were held back with a clear rod that stretched her feet out the same way Sarah’s were. The only real difference was that Sally’s table was horizontal – she was laying down, whereas Sarah was in a vertical position, suspended on the table. The only discernable difference between Sarah and her sister was the fact that Sally’s hair was cut short and spiked, while Sarah’s was shoulder length and wavy.
Ungagged, Sally began to scream for help when she sensed the lights coming on. “Hey! Please let me go!! I don’t know who you are but I promise I won’t tell anyone! You can let me go, I won’t call the cops, I promise!!” She turned her head side to side, but the blindfold prevented vision, and after a few moments of trying to bargain, she whimpered and fell silent again.
“Maybe now you understand the seriousness of yours…situation,” the man said. “I will give you one chance, and one chance only to tell me where your key is. Will you?” He walked around in front of Sarah and looked into her eyes.
Sarah’s mind worked on overdrive. She hadn’t seen her sister in years, and the last thing Sally said to her was rather colorful, after a fight over a boyfriend. She had called Sarah a number of different names, most of which could not even be said on Cable TV. Besides, he was talking about nine million dollars! And someone would notice that she was missing – it was Thursday, right? Someone would notice she was out from work without having called out, and eventually start looking for her. She always left her phone on Location Mode, so if they really needed to, they could find her GPS coordinates, assuming her phone was nearby.
Sarah felt defiant. This asshole was not going to get a dime from her, and she was sure that he wasn’t the type to do anything foolish like harm them. Despite her vulnerable state, she shook her head, her grin of defiance lost in the curve of her ballgag.
Her male captor didn’t seem surprised. He quickly turned around and said, “That’s what I thought.” He began walking towards to door. He was so quick to leave, it scared Sarah, and she wondered if she had made the wrong choice. She tried to say, “Wait, come back!” to him, but her gag kept her from making any sense. The muffled words echoes off the walls of her room.
“Too late now. You don’t get another chance to say yes until I say so.” He opened the door, turned off the lights, and slammed it shut.
After several long, quiet minutes, the door to her sister’s captivity room was opened. She could hear every sound clear as a bell – a microphone must have been rigged in there, which transmitted the sounds of the room to an unseen speaker above Sarah. Through the glass, she watched as her unnamed captor walked into the room, a large black duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.
He walked near to Sally’s bondage table, and she squealed in fear. Begging for freedom, she repeatedly asked him to let her go, that she’d done nothing wrong. Her pleas for release fell on deaf ears. The man rested the duffel bag on the floor, just out of Sarah’s sight, and unzipped it. Sarah could hear the zip loud and clear.
The man spoke to the helpless, naked, vulnerable twin sister. “Sally, what you’re about to be put through is because of your sister. She had a chance to save you and have you released, but she refused to allow it. She thought you were not worth her money, that you should suffer for her greed.” Sally cringed, then screamed at the man.
“What did you do to my sister!! I swear to God, I will kill you if you hurt her!” Her sudden burst of courage seemed uncharacteristic, and she quickly calmed down, meekly saying, “please, please don’t hurt us, she’d never do something to put me in danger! Please!”
The man only smiled. “Sarah can hear every word you say. She’s doing nothing to stop me.”
Sarah screamed from behind her ballgag in the next room, knowing now that this guy meant business. She expected her poor helpless sister to be murdered or raped, or both. A heavy pit of sorrow sank into her stomach as she thought of all the horrible things that might now happen to her estranged sister, all because she was greedy and bold.
Her fears diminished when she saw the first thing the man took from his duffel bag. Instead of a knife or a gun, he took out a long white feather. Sarah watched intently as she tried to figure out what he might do with it…
“Oh, no,” she thought. “he’s going to…tickle her.” For all the guilt she felt for her sister, she was somewhat glad it was Sally and not her being ‘punished.’ When the twins were children, before adult life got in the way and separated the two of them, they were two of the most ticklish people in the world. Their parents, friend, and significant others always found it so amusing to tickle torture the two of them. As long as Sarah could remember, her father, boyfriend, or anyone else who knew her weakness, would pin her down and tickle her mercilessly, often resulting in shortness of breath or, more embarrassingly, her wetting her pants. Sarah knew she was incredibly ticklish all over, from her neck and earlobes, her underarms and ribcage, all the way down to the bottoms of her smooth feet. It was the one thing she could never stand, and she never understood why everyone found it so fucking funny.
She also knew that her sister was just as sensitive. Occasionally, when they were kids, they’d get into tickle fights when they had an argument, and both of them would end up collapsed on the floor in a heap of girlish giggles after a while, neither of them ever remembering what they were originally fighting about. All they knew was they both were insanely ticklish, and that neither of them enjoyed it as children. Sarah hated it even to this day, and had a hard time staying with a boyfriend because of it.
Sarah’s eyes grew wide as she watched the man approach her sister with the long, white, stiff feather. Sally had no idea what was coming to her, and Sarah couldn’t do anything to stop it or even warn her sister. She cringed as the feather made contact with Sally’s outstretched left underarm and began to slide down her naked flesh.
Sally squealed in surprise and ticklishness as the tendrils of the feather began their course along her ribcage. From the pit of her underarm down to her waist, then across her tummy and back up her right side the feather slid, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the poor helpless girl. She began to beg already, knowing that this was only the beginning.
“No no no no no, please don’t, no don’t tickle meeeee!!!!” The last bit of her sentence was drawn out as the feather slide back down her side and retraced it’s trail in the opposite direction. She giggled frantically as the tip of the feather began to swirl in her smooth shaven left underarm, the tip of the feather just barely grazing her skin. Her hear swiveled to the other side as if to shy away from the sensation.
The man was intent on making her suffer. The feather danced in her creamy smooth underarm, swirling, circling, figure-eighting across her delicate skin. Sally shrieked and squirmed, unable to do anything at all to cease the sensation. She giggled, laughed, and begged for this not to be her fate, anything but tickling. The feather danced along her flesh carelessly, and her captor had a cruel look of intent on his face.
Several minutes went by, and the evil man slid the feather along her sides and into each underarm, spending long, agonizing moments teasing and tickling Sally’s underarms. The cruel feather seemed like an extension of his hand, effortlessly causing the poor girl to squeal and giggle madly, her head tossing left and right over and over again as she tried desperately to block out the intense sensations.
After a bit, the man paused only for a moment, to reach into the bag again and obtain a second feather. He went right back to work as Sally’s pleas for mercy began again, begging like the helpless little woman she was for the tickling to stop. A feather in each armpit, poor Sally struggled to form words as they swirled and stroked her sensitive skin. The ticklish sensations shocked her nerves as her sister, bound tightly in the other room, watched in horror.
Sarah couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her helpless sister, who looked almost identical to herself, was being cruelly tickle tortured for money? How long would this go on? Would this man really be willing to tickle her until her sister gave in? Or would he tire?
Or would it get worse?
As Sarah realized that last thought, another chill shot through her body. “No,” she thought, “tickling her won’t make me give it up. I’m strong, and I know my sister is as well, I am sure we’ll hold out until someone finds us!”
While Sarah was finishing that thought, the man in the next room brought his feather torture of Sally’s smooth underarms to an end. He gave her armpits one final flick of the feathertips, and put them back in the bag. Sally’s chest rose and fell repeatedly, rapidly, as if she’d just run a mile. Her nipples were standing stiff and her neck was flush with pink from the exertion. She actually began thanking the man. “Oh, god…thank you…please, no more, I am too ticklish, please…”
Her break was short lived, however. Only a few moments later, the man had repositioned himself, standing above Sally, near her head. With no warning, he reached down with both hands and began to pinch and tickle her naked, stretched out ribs. Sally screamed loudly, her head coming up off the headrest of her table as she erupted into laughter. Her torturer’s fingertips rapidly prodded along her bare flesh, wiggling against her ribs and stroking from front to back. He tickled up and down her helpless upperbody, from just under her armpits down to her lower ribs, then back up.
Every few moments, he’d change tactics. He’d use prodding, wiggling motions with the tips of his fingers for a while, then he’d spider his hands and use his nails more, scratching and stroking her ribs. The poor girl’s laughter was frantic; Sally screamed and gasped, her perky breasts jiggling as her chest heaved, her nipples standing straight up at attention. Her mouth hung open as she laughed hysterically, drawing in sharp, short breaths, the air being forced out just as quickly with her maddening laughter.
“OOH GOD AAHAHAHAHAHAAA *gasp* PLEASE PLEAPLEEEEAHAHAHAH!!” Sally screamed as the tickle torture continued. Sarah couldn’t believe what she was watching. All of this was just because she wouldn’t tell the man where her lockbox key was? There had to be more to it than that, she thought to herself. “NO NO NO AAAHAHAHAHAHA I’LL DO ANYTHING *gasp*, PLEASE MAKE IT STAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAP!” Sally wailed in the throes of her ticklish torture.
Sally would have curled her toes if she could, but her stockinged feet were locked into place, unable to even wiggle. Little did Sarah know that this was going to come to an end no time soon, and that her poor helpless, naked sister’s tickling was only beginning.
Several long, agonizing minutes later, the cruel, evil tickle torturer finally gave poor Sally a break. Residual giggles and laughter dribbled from her lips as she calmed down from the tickles. She slumped in her tight, effective restraints, her head lolling to one side as she tried to catch her breath. She softly begged, her energy sapped. “Please….oh god, hehehe…please don’t do that again…oh, my god..”
The man looked down at her lovely nude body and smiled, then turned to the window into Sarah’s room. He left Sally’s room and quickly opened to door to her sister’s, walking towards Sarah briskly. Sarah bristled and quivered, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t turn his torturous attentions to her and make her scream like that.
He boomed at her, “Tell me where they key is NOW!” Sarah would have jumped back away from him had she been physically able to, and her fear paralyzed her. Just the thought of being tortured like that shook her entire mindset, and she froze up. She wanted so badly to say, “Yes, yes, I’ll tell you where it is, it’s in my bedroom!!” But her terror wouldn’t allow it, nor would her ballgag. She simply stared in terror at the man as he waited for her response, unable to make a sound, voluntary or otherwise, her big brown eyes wide as dinner plates.
The man waited only a few seconds before his patience seemed to wear thin. “Fine, have it your way,” he said, and he quickly disappeared behind her. Sarah heard him rummaging through something, through he was out of view, and jumped in her restraints when she felt his hands reaching around her right thigh.
She shrieked, the first sound she’d been able to make in sometime, not wanting this man to violate her. Her thigh quivered as she tugged on her restraints, but this did not deter the man at all. He buckled some sort of strap or belt around her upper thigh, then another one around her other leg. He also attached a pair of clasps to the belt around her waist, then he disappeared again.
Sarah heard him moving behind her bondage table, and she heard a slick sound, as if the man were rubbing something wet between his hands. The sound only lasted a few moments, and a sudden cold sensation between her legs made her shriek in surprise and shame.
The man slid a vibrator roughly inside her womanhood. He had lathered it up with lubricant so as to avoid friction, and it slid easily inside her, filling her pussy almost instantly. She screamed through her ballgag and thrashed her head back and forth; it was violating and demeaning, and goddamnit it was cold! The lubricant felt almost like it had been in the refrigerator! She clenched her eyes shut as the vibrator was fastened into place. She quivered at the sensation of cold and shame that coursed through her body. She hated this man, and she wanted this to end.
As the man stood up, holding a small remote with a dial on it on one hand, Sarah pleaded through her gag. “Please”, she tried to say, “stop this and let me go! I’ll tell you what you want to know!” Of course, it only came out as a muffled string of unintelligible sounds. The man smiled.
As he turned and walked away, he said over his shoulder, “Too late now. You’re in this for the long haul.” He slammed the door shut behind him as he left the room.
Sarah hung there for several long minutes. The vibrator, though perfectly still, was everpresent in her mind. The lubricant that he used to slide it into her had warmed up nicely, but she still hated it. She felt so violated, so helpless, so ashamed. And to make things worse, the damned thing was buckled in – no amount of muscle flexing or quivering would shake it loose! She tried flexing her keagel muscles to push it out, but that only served to send unwanted waves of pleasure through her body.
The light was on in the other room, and her sister lay there, still breathing heavier than normal, her mouth open a tiny bit. She said nothing, only laying there helplessly as the door to her room opened again. In walked their captor, with that remote control in his hand. He rested it on Sally’s tummy, placing it there while he walked down to the end of the table, near her helplessly stretched, nyloned soles.
Sally whimpered. Both she and her sister in the other room knew that begging and asking for mercy was a lost cause now. Sally squealed as the man’s index finger slip along her left stockinged sole. He started it near her heel and trailed it slowly up her stretched arch, ending the trail just below her toe stems. She squealed again when he did the same thing to her other foot. She suddenly screamed, a loud, long scream as the man used all ten fingertips to begin scribbling along her smooth, helpless, ticklish nyloned arches.
Trying to buck off the table, she squirmed and wiggled madly. Sarah knew that her own most ticklish spot was her feet, and she could only imagine how sensitive her sister’s were. The cruel fingertips stroked up and down along the smooth surface of poor Sally’s soles and she laughed hysterically into the cool air of the room.
“NOOOO NOT MY FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEET!! *gasp* AAAAAAAAH GOD NO *gasp*PLEEEEHEEHEEHEAAHAHAHAHASEEE!! *gasp* AAAHAHAHA OH I’LL DO ANYTHING PLEASSSE!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her head thrashing back and forth rapidly, side to side as she laughed loud and long. The fingertips slid up and down, covering her poor ticklish arches, stroking effortlessly along the immobile and super-sensitive soles.
This went on for several long, arduous minutes; Sally screaming with agonized laughter, the evil man sliding his fingers along her still, stockinged soles, Sarah watching helplessly from the other room. For a while, Sarah had forgotten all about the vibrator that was lodged inside her – until her poor sister’s laughter and gyrating tummy made the remote fall from her and onto the floor.
The man stopped tickling, but Sally continued laughing. Her body quivered and shook with residual sensations as the man picked up the remote. He turned the dial ever so slightly to the right, and Sarah shrieked with surprise as the vibrator inside her began to buzz. She whimpered pitifully while it vibrated, buzzing softly inside her involuntarily slick vagina.
Over the sound of the vibrator, she heard another noise. It sounded almost like an egg timer. Watching the man as he placed the remote on a nearby table, she realized what the sound was, and what it meant for her.
She had seen it online once while browsing from her bedroom computer. Someone had designed a remote control for a vibrator that gradually increased the power of the toy over time. By turning it on, you started it on the lowest setting. Over the course of several minutes, the remote would send stronger and stronger signals to the vibrator it was associated with, causing it to pleasure the “wearer” more and more until climax, when the wearer could then turn it off. However, since Sarah wasn’t in control of the remote, she know that mean only one thing – unless her captor turned it off, it would get more and more powerful until it reached it’s highest setting, and there it would stay.
Sarah fought to ignore the sensations that so starkly contrasted the way she felt. The vibrator, buzzing softly and quietly, was sending tiny ripples of pleasure through her thighs and tummy. As much as she hated watching her sister’s torture, she just couldn’t look away, and the shame and helplessness she felt conflicted with the pleasure forcing it’s way into her womanhood.
After only a second or two, the man went back to tickling the poor helpless feet of Sally. She erupted into renewed screams of agony as lightning bolts of ticklishness shot up her legs and into her mind. She didn’t even bother begging or pleading anymore, she simply laughed and laughed and laughed. Gasping for breath between the staccato waves of laughter, she wheezed and coughed occasionally as the tickle torture of her nyloned soles went on and on.
Meanwhile, next door, Sarah was having trouble concentrating. She tried so hard to focus on her anger and hate for this man, but the vibrator buzzing between her legs was getting stronger. She watched the man as he slid his fingertips up and down her sister’s helpless soles, stroking her arches and scratching under her held-back toes. She listened to Sally’s tortured laughter and involuntarily thought about how it would feel to be tickled that mercilessly. Her attention faded from her anger and the sensations in her womanhood intensified, causing her to crotch to moisten with her own juices of arousal. She began to breathe heavier, to gasp against her gag, to mewl in sexual arousal. The constantly buzzing vibrator just kept giving her pleasure, and it was nearly impossible to ignore it.
As her pleasure mounted, she realized something. Looking at the man who was torturing her sister, she noticed a bulge in his jeans. He wasn’t just in this for the money, he was getting his rocks off too! And immediately on the tail of that thought, a new fear entered her mind.
“Oh no, he’s going to rape Sally!”
As if the man had heard her thoughts, he leaned down between the outstretched legs of his helpless victim. Sarah screamed for him not to, but he began to slide his tongue up and down along Sally’s bare, shaved pussy lips. He stroked his wet tongue up and down along her womanhood as he tickled her feet with both hands, and Sally’s laughter was very suddenly interrupted by a long, loud moan of pleasure. Sarah couldn’t believe her sister was enjoying the attention, given that it was all under such horrible, illegal circumstances.
Of course, she couldn’t ignore her own pleasurable feelings. Sarah could feel her own clit, very aware of how horny she was. Unable to admit to herself that she wanted to feel his tongue on her ****, she struggled against her restraints, trying again to free herself, or to just wiggle the vibrator loose. By now, the power of the vibe had increased quite a bit, and flexing her ab muscles only made her grind against it. Sharp pleasure shot through her body with every motion and she was forced to give in to the pleasure.
Slumping against her restraints again, she watched as the man’s tongue invaded her sister’s pussy and his fingertips stroked up and down her nylon covered soles. In her shame, tears began to well up in Sarah’s eyes. They welled up even faster when the man stopped licking her sister’s **** and used one hand to unzip his jeans, and Sarah began to bawl tears as he forcefully slammed his rock hard member into Sally’s now-soaked ****.
Sally screamed at the top of her lung, both in surprise and forced pleasure, as the cock slammed deep into her. She gasped as he thrusted in and out of her, and she was only able to whimper out a couple “please” and “no”s before giving in entirely to the sensation. Sarah could only imagine how her mind must be swimming now.
Sarah began to scream. The pleasure that was driving up through her body was unbearable, and tears were flowing down her face from the shame of having to watch her sister be so brutally violated. Screaming over and over, her throat began to feel sore as her first orgasm began to rip through her body. She clenched her eyes shut as she listened to her sister’s cries of forced pleasure, and tears rolled down her cheeks as her body shook in climax. For several long seconds, her abs clenched and her pussy quivered around the slick, buzzing vibrator, her pent up, forced sexual frustration releasing.
Yet, it was not over. The vibrator was still not to full power yet, and the man was not finished with the two. He could hear Sarah’s screams from the other room, and as he thrusted his rock hard cock in and out of Sally’s tight, quivering pussy, he reached down with both hands and began to tickle her – hard.
His hands started on her waist. He lobster clawed her hips and dug his fingers and thumbs under her hipbones, making the poor girl scream in intense ticklish agony. His hands then scribbled up her ribs, prodding and wiggling their fingertips along her helpless, naked flesh and into her underarms, where they swirled and scratched her smooth, ticklish pits.
Sally began to cry. Tears moistened her blindfold and her voice began to wail as she screamed in ticklish laughter and forced sexual pleasure. Her voice was becoming hoarse as this went on, and she was unable to help the coming climax that threatened to rock her naked, helpless, exhausted body.
Sarah, still slumped in her bondage, continued to scream as the vibrator between her legs reached it’s full strength. Drool hung down from her lips, resting on her bare breasts. Her own mind was swimming, the room spinning around her. She could barely make out the sight of her sister being fucked and tickle tortured against her will, but she could clearly hear her scream of desperate, tired agony and pleasure. She also could clearly hear the man torturing her making grunting noises, and she knew this was going to come to an end soon. The powerfully buzzing vibrator between her legs made her abs tense involuntarily once again, and she let out one final, muffled, scream of desperate pleasure as her second orgasm rushed through her body.
Spurred on by the screams of two desperate women, the man thrusted harder and harder into Sally’s ****, tickling her ribs mercilessly. He could feel Sally’s pussy quivering again, and he pounded into her over and over, grunting loudly as he began to orgasm. His rock hard member shot it’s load deep into Sally’s pussy as she orgasmed at the same time, her pussy clenching tightly around his thrusting, rigid cock. For several seconds, the two orgasmed together, the man no longer tickling her exhausted body and just thrusting himself in and out of her.
Sally’s head lolled to the side and her screams ceased. She had fallen unconscious. The intense combination of tickling and pleasure was too much for her to bear, and she laid there, still. The man slid his member out of her **** and it dripped with semen and arousal juice, and he pulled his pants back up. Reaching for the remote for Sarah’s vibrator, he turned it off.
Sarah’s head hung limply down, her chin resting on her heated chest. She couldn’t move a muscle even if she weren’t tied up so tightly. After only a few moments, she heard the door to her room open, and the man walked in.
“Where is it,” he asked, in a soft, low voice. He unbuckled Sarah’s ballgag, and she slowly smacked her lips together, swallowing the spit that had collected.
“I…..” she began, “…..it’s in my….my pillowcase….”
Then, she slept.
