Snail Shell
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- Jun 24, 2001
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Her sides started to ache from the continuous muffled screams she fed into the ball gag. She tossed a pleading glance at her captor, secretly hoping that the stinging of sweat in her eyes might distract her from the tickling sensations on her helpless bare soles. And helpless was far and away the best word to describe how the X-man known as X-23 felt.
The sickening crack of Mystique's sniper rifle was the last thing she remembered hearing before her heart sank; the gut-wrenching knowledge that her mission had failed and that her quarry had outwitted her. Lord knows what chemical cocktail that dart injected her with. Whatever knocked her out had also numbed the muscles that unsheathed her deadly mutant claws. Her nerves had been heightened to peak sensitivity; another side effect she wished she could control.
Bound wrists, tied ankles and a leather ball gag met her when she awoke. Mystique hadn't revealed anything about her plans to her since. Her squeals and restrained laughter were met with giggles of triumph and pleasure from her captor. The mockery X-cheerleader uniform she'd been clad in gauled her. But what was the most humiliating aspect of this was how vulnerable she felt; being brought to her knees by such a small, simple thing as tickling. A playful, childish thing had now become a torment that was slowly breaking down her iron-forged will. At this point, she'd answer almost any demand Mystique made.
Her captor had other ideas. No relief came from the intense tickling inflicted on her. No questions were asked of her tormentor. All she could do what laugh unwillingly and try to endure.
I need to write more often....
Enjoy!
SS
The sickening crack of Mystique's sniper rifle was the last thing she remembered hearing before her heart sank; the gut-wrenching knowledge that her mission had failed and that her quarry had outwitted her. Lord knows what chemical cocktail that dart injected her with. Whatever knocked her out had also numbed the muscles that unsheathed her deadly mutant claws. Her nerves had been heightened to peak sensitivity; another side effect she wished she could control.
Bound wrists, tied ankles and a leather ball gag met her when she awoke. Mystique hadn't revealed anything about her plans to her since. Her squeals and restrained laughter were met with giggles of triumph and pleasure from her captor. The mockery X-cheerleader uniform she'd been clad in gauled her. But what was the most humiliating aspect of this was how vulnerable she felt; being brought to her knees by such a small, simple thing as tickling. A playful, childish thing had now become a torment that was slowly breaking down her iron-forged will. At this point, she'd answer almost any demand Mystique made.
Her captor had other ideas. No relief came from the intense tickling inflicted on her. No questions were asked of her tormentor. All she could do what laugh unwillingly and try to endure.
I need to write more often....
Enjoy!
SS
