Francie_Pants
TMF Poster
- Joined
- May 6, 2008
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As much as I hate to end this series, I feel that I should bring it to a close now, to keep from it from starting to get repetitive. I'll continue to post new adventures that pick up after this one, but they'll hopefully be refreshingly different. So without further adieu...
When I woke from the deep sleep that had been caused by the injection administered at the police station, it took me a few moments to fully grasp the complexity of my new situation. I was hanging upside down, by my ankles, which were spread wide. My arms were cuffed together, and chained to the bottom of the strange device I was in. I say strange device, because it was like a bucket, about 2 feet wide, filled with water up to my eyes, and when I tried to pull my wrists up, I lifted the bucket, which was guided by a track, submerging the rest of my head in the water. I quickly gave up on that, preferring the ability to breathe.
I was clothed in nothing but a black nylon bodysuit. I could tell, without looking, that there was a big hole at the crotch. They had opted not to gag me, so I chose to make full use of my vocal capabilities, while they were there.
"Hey!" The room was empty, so I spoke loud enough to hopefully reach the outside of the room. "Let me down from here! Enough of this mess, already. I wanna go home!"
The room was small, almost completely filled by the odd contraption they had secured me into. There were steps on either side of the device, so that someone could stand at either side of my feet, but I'm sure they would have been necessary just to get me strapped into this thing, as well.
"Hey!!" I called a bit louder. "Can anybody hear me? Lemme down from here!"
The silence continued, only interrupted by my periodic yells and attempts to be commanding of those who actually had me under their control. Memories were gradually coming back to me. It baffled me that there was such an alliance between this Winston guy and those small town police. I had nearly escaped, but because I went to the one place I thought I could get help, I was now right back in Winston's clutches. I made up my mind that if I found a way out again, I was gonna boxcar it, and just get as far away from here as possible.
Minutes passed, seeming like hours, in the inverted position. I continued testing the device, in various ways, but it always resulted in me getting fully dunked. Finally, the door opened, and in walked Winston, Chris (the officer that tickled me in the station), and Dianne (the one who was pretty much in charge of the smuggling camp I got caught in). I was very surprised to see Dianne.
"You!" The feelings of anger were welling up, and it was audible in my voice. "You bitch! You just wait 'til I get a hold of you!"
She was amused by my threats, and answered, "You should be more worried about what's going to happen, when I get a hold of you, Francie."
I had already diverted my attention, shooting a cold glare toward Chris, "And you! You and your whole department are nothing but a bunch of slime balls. When I get out of here, I'm gonna grmppppph!"
Winston had circled around behind me and put his hand over my mouth.
"She's refusing to come to terms with her new life. That's why I asked the two of you to come. I need a little bit of help giving her a thorough education on the ins and outs of her life, here in my basement." I wondered if they found Winston's voice as annoying as I did. I offered some further comment, but his hand was still in place.
I watched in horror, as Dianne and Chris each mounted the steps on either side of the device. I pulled hard on my wrists, only to soak my face, once again. It suddenly struck me how perilous this situation actually was.
I didn't have much time to think about it, though. All at once, Winston pulled his hand away; Dianne started dragging her fingernails across the arch of my left foot; Chris started flittering his fingertips against the ball of my right foot; and, Winston was only an instant behind, using his agonizingly feminine fingernails to drag up and down in my armpits.
I let out a long, horrified scream that started shaking with the laughter that I didn't even bother trying to contain. My scream of laughter was dampened and bubbly sounding, as I tried to pull my arms up, only to submerge myself in the water. I quickly let them stretch back out, so that I could breathe.
"Oh God, no!!!" The words could barely be deciphered, in the shakiness caused by the laughter. It took every bit of will power I could muster, not to pull on my wrist chains. Fingers were going wild on both of my feet. Dianne's fingernails were raking my left sole, and driving me hysterical. Chris' scribbling fingers continued to move around the ball and toes of my right foot, then into the arch, to the heel, and then back where they came from. With all that going on, in addition to Winston's fingernail scrapings up and down my sides, from my armpits almost to my waist, I didn't have the capacity in my brain to keep up with where I was at, or what was going on.
I repeatedly forgot about the fact that when I pulled on my arms, I submerged my head in water. That aspect of the torture didn't last very long, though, because after about five good tugs, I lacked the strength to lift the water, anyway.
I'm really surprised that I noticed, but Winston's hands left me, momentarily. Of course, Dianne and Chris were still giving my nylon covered feet a viciously merciless tickling experience. That minimized the impact of Winston's temporary absence. His return was worse. His hands both went back to my armpits, and instead of dragging them up and down my sides, he just held them there, in my armpits, and flittered his fingernails, incessantly. What made matters worse, though, was that he had a feather, and was holding the stem with his teeth. I guess that's how he was doing it. I couldn't see his face, because he was behind me, but both of his hands were very noticeable, in my armpits. The feather was now being sawed to and fro, across my bare womanhood.
With all that going on, simultaneously, I was mostly just expelling air and those whistle pitches, like Mariah Carey has learned to sing in, and reach those ear splitting notes. That was all I could do. The impact of all the tickling was so intense, that there was no calming to a state of guffaws or cackles, or anything else close to that. It was either that high pitched vocal whistling, or silent laughter, because I was laughing so hard that I couldn't produce the sound to go with it.
My head sloshed around in the water, because even with my arms fully stretched, it was still up almost to my eyes, with me being inverted like that. I'm guessing my frantic activity was keeping my blood from all rushing to my head, but I don't want to know what my blood pressure was, at that moment. A few minutes later, my vision started to blur, but right before I blacked out, I saw the door fly open.
When I awoke, I was on a stretcher, behind an ambulance, in Winston's driveway. Winston, Dianne, Chris, and all the other thugs were cuffed and being loaded into black cars. I had a horrible headache, and was struggling to focus on them being loaded up, so it took the agent a few times calling my name, to get my attention.
"Francie? Francie? Hello, earth to Francie," the man said. Finally, after the third time, I turned to look at him.
I was totally lost. I had no idea what was going on. I just knew that I wasn't being tickled. That was all that seemed to matter at the moment.
"Huh?" I'm sure I looked as frazzled as I sounded, too.
"Francie, I'm Agent Jake Sterban, with the FBI. Are you ok?"
I blinked a few times, and looked around. I was in a daze. I'm sure he knew that, too, because he just said, "Never mind, I'll talk to you, later."
He patted the stretcher, and circled his finger in the air. They loaded me into the ambulance, and away we went. I fell asleep, and woke up in the hospital. My family was there.
Apparently, the FBI had been investigating this smuggling ring, for quite a while. Of all the women that had gone missing, I was the only one whose sister had been invited to participate in the smuggling ring. She went to the FBI, explained the situation. They got involved, investigated, etc. I don't know all the ins and outs, and really don't care. I just know that they found out about Dianne's involvement, started monitoring her, followed her up here, and closed the case.
Janice, my sister, came up to me in the hospital and said, with a hint of teasing in her voice, "You're just too nosey and headstrong for your own good, Francie."
I didn't laugh. It was funny, but I'd laughed enough for the rest of my life, over the last few days, so I intended to take a break from it. I nearly knocked her head off, though, when she reached down and tickled my foot, through the sheet, as she was walking away.
"No!!!" I screamed, as she ducked under my swing and stuck her tongue out at me, before walking away.
When I woke from the deep sleep that had been caused by the injection administered at the police station, it took me a few moments to fully grasp the complexity of my new situation. I was hanging upside down, by my ankles, which were spread wide. My arms were cuffed together, and chained to the bottom of the strange device I was in. I say strange device, because it was like a bucket, about 2 feet wide, filled with water up to my eyes, and when I tried to pull my wrists up, I lifted the bucket, which was guided by a track, submerging the rest of my head in the water. I quickly gave up on that, preferring the ability to breathe.
I was clothed in nothing but a black nylon bodysuit. I could tell, without looking, that there was a big hole at the crotch. They had opted not to gag me, so I chose to make full use of my vocal capabilities, while they were there.
"Hey!" The room was empty, so I spoke loud enough to hopefully reach the outside of the room. "Let me down from here! Enough of this mess, already. I wanna go home!"
The room was small, almost completely filled by the odd contraption they had secured me into. There were steps on either side of the device, so that someone could stand at either side of my feet, but I'm sure they would have been necessary just to get me strapped into this thing, as well.
"Hey!!" I called a bit louder. "Can anybody hear me? Lemme down from here!"
The silence continued, only interrupted by my periodic yells and attempts to be commanding of those who actually had me under their control. Memories were gradually coming back to me. It baffled me that there was such an alliance between this Winston guy and those small town police. I had nearly escaped, but because I went to the one place I thought I could get help, I was now right back in Winston's clutches. I made up my mind that if I found a way out again, I was gonna boxcar it, and just get as far away from here as possible.
Minutes passed, seeming like hours, in the inverted position. I continued testing the device, in various ways, but it always resulted in me getting fully dunked. Finally, the door opened, and in walked Winston, Chris (the officer that tickled me in the station), and Dianne (the one who was pretty much in charge of the smuggling camp I got caught in). I was very surprised to see Dianne.
"You!" The feelings of anger were welling up, and it was audible in my voice. "You bitch! You just wait 'til I get a hold of you!"
She was amused by my threats, and answered, "You should be more worried about what's going to happen, when I get a hold of you, Francie."
I had already diverted my attention, shooting a cold glare toward Chris, "And you! You and your whole department are nothing but a bunch of slime balls. When I get out of here, I'm gonna grmppppph!"
Winston had circled around behind me and put his hand over my mouth.
"She's refusing to come to terms with her new life. That's why I asked the two of you to come. I need a little bit of help giving her a thorough education on the ins and outs of her life, here in my basement." I wondered if they found Winston's voice as annoying as I did. I offered some further comment, but his hand was still in place.
I watched in horror, as Dianne and Chris each mounted the steps on either side of the device. I pulled hard on my wrists, only to soak my face, once again. It suddenly struck me how perilous this situation actually was.
I didn't have much time to think about it, though. All at once, Winston pulled his hand away; Dianne started dragging her fingernails across the arch of my left foot; Chris started flittering his fingertips against the ball of my right foot; and, Winston was only an instant behind, using his agonizingly feminine fingernails to drag up and down in my armpits.
I let out a long, horrified scream that started shaking with the laughter that I didn't even bother trying to contain. My scream of laughter was dampened and bubbly sounding, as I tried to pull my arms up, only to submerge myself in the water. I quickly let them stretch back out, so that I could breathe.
"Oh God, no!!!" The words could barely be deciphered, in the shakiness caused by the laughter. It took every bit of will power I could muster, not to pull on my wrist chains. Fingers were going wild on both of my feet. Dianne's fingernails were raking my left sole, and driving me hysterical. Chris' scribbling fingers continued to move around the ball and toes of my right foot, then into the arch, to the heel, and then back where they came from. With all that going on, in addition to Winston's fingernail scrapings up and down my sides, from my armpits almost to my waist, I didn't have the capacity in my brain to keep up with where I was at, or what was going on.
I repeatedly forgot about the fact that when I pulled on my arms, I submerged my head in water. That aspect of the torture didn't last very long, though, because after about five good tugs, I lacked the strength to lift the water, anyway.
I'm really surprised that I noticed, but Winston's hands left me, momentarily. Of course, Dianne and Chris were still giving my nylon covered feet a viciously merciless tickling experience. That minimized the impact of Winston's temporary absence. His return was worse. His hands both went back to my armpits, and instead of dragging them up and down my sides, he just held them there, in my armpits, and flittered his fingernails, incessantly. What made matters worse, though, was that he had a feather, and was holding the stem with his teeth. I guess that's how he was doing it. I couldn't see his face, because he was behind me, but both of his hands were very noticeable, in my armpits. The feather was now being sawed to and fro, across my bare womanhood.
With all that going on, simultaneously, I was mostly just expelling air and those whistle pitches, like Mariah Carey has learned to sing in, and reach those ear splitting notes. That was all I could do. The impact of all the tickling was so intense, that there was no calming to a state of guffaws or cackles, or anything else close to that. It was either that high pitched vocal whistling, or silent laughter, because I was laughing so hard that I couldn't produce the sound to go with it.
My head sloshed around in the water, because even with my arms fully stretched, it was still up almost to my eyes, with me being inverted like that. I'm guessing my frantic activity was keeping my blood from all rushing to my head, but I don't want to know what my blood pressure was, at that moment. A few minutes later, my vision started to blur, but right before I blacked out, I saw the door fly open.
When I awoke, I was on a stretcher, behind an ambulance, in Winston's driveway. Winston, Dianne, Chris, and all the other thugs were cuffed and being loaded into black cars. I had a horrible headache, and was struggling to focus on them being loaded up, so it took the agent a few times calling my name, to get my attention.
"Francie? Francie? Hello, earth to Francie," the man said. Finally, after the third time, I turned to look at him.
I was totally lost. I had no idea what was going on. I just knew that I wasn't being tickled. That was all that seemed to matter at the moment.
"Huh?" I'm sure I looked as frazzled as I sounded, too.
"Francie, I'm Agent Jake Sterban, with the FBI. Are you ok?"
I blinked a few times, and looked around. I was in a daze. I'm sure he knew that, too, because he just said, "Never mind, I'll talk to you, later."
He patted the stretcher, and circled his finger in the air. They loaded me into the ambulance, and away we went. I fell asleep, and woke up in the hospital. My family was there.
Apparently, the FBI had been investigating this smuggling ring, for quite a while. Of all the women that had gone missing, I was the only one whose sister had been invited to participate in the smuggling ring. She went to the FBI, explained the situation. They got involved, investigated, etc. I don't know all the ins and outs, and really don't care. I just know that they found out about Dianne's involvement, started monitoring her, followed her up here, and closed the case.
Janice, my sister, came up to me in the hospital and said, with a hint of teasing in her voice, "You're just too nosey and headstrong for your own good, Francie."
I didn't laugh. It was funny, but I'd laughed enough for the rest of my life, over the last few days, so I intended to take a break from it. I nearly knocked her head off, though, when she reached down and tickled my foot, through the sheet, as she was walking away.
"No!!!" I screamed, as she ducked under my swing and stuck her tongue out at me, before walking away.
