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The Nylon Dungeon: Big Shot

MTJpub

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The Nylon Dungeon: Big Shot
By Daumantas

In her mind, Gina selected another CD, put in on the stereo, and began silently humming along with the songs, trying to remember all the lyrics.

She did this often, as a form of mental exercise, to keep her mind occupied. It beat staring at the blank walls. She was sure she would go insane if she did nothing but stare at blank walls.

Nothing in the Nylon Dungeon could match the tickle torture, but the long waits between tickling sessions were themselves a form of torture. With little else to do, Gina, like the other captives, had invented numerous mental games to keep themselves occupied and their minds off what was to come next. Gina frequently recalled her favorite CD’s in her music collection, back in "the world," and mentally played the songs one by one in her mind. She wondered sometimes what had become of her CD collection. Or the rest of her possessions, for that matter.

But a familiar noise brought the bound girl to attention – the clang of her cell door opening. Gina held her breath, waiting to see who was coming for her this time.

She relaxed when she saw that it was only Christine. But then a wave of contempt passed over her face.

Christine, as usual, entered the room with a swaggering gait. She was wearing one of her patented dominatrix outfits, and holding in her right hand the riding crop she had taken to carrying about for effect.

Gina loathed Christine with a hatred born of envy. Christine had managed to position herself as the Nylon Dungeon’s fashion coordinator, which relieved her of the torture inflicted on the other female captives. She had done this by continually complaining about the quality of beauty materials supplied to her until the Dungeon members found themselves in the position of having to compromise. Gina, who thought of herself as a master manipulator, couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t thought of this idea herself. Certainly, there was nothing that Christine did that she couldn’t do equally well. But the Nylon Dungeon had no need of two fashion coordinators. Damn the luck, Gina thought. If I had just come up with the idea first…

"OK, sweetie," Christine said after briefly examining Gina. "Christine is putting you down for a hot bikini wax on Tuesday."

"Another one?" Gina shrieked. "I just had one!"

Christine sighed. "See, the problem is, you Mediterranean-type girls sprout body hair like it’s going out of style. It’s an ongoing struggle to keep you smooth."

Gina’s nostrils flared as her temper rose. Christine’s presence alone was bad enough – let alone her insults.

"Well, I don’t think I need one yet."

"Christine was not requesting," Christine said. "She was instructing. Be ready for your bikini wax on Tuesday. 11 a.m."

As Christine pulled out a compact and briefly touched up her makeup, Gina continued to fume. Finally, she exploded.

"You’re nothing special, you know! Just because you came up with this little scheme of yours – you’re not any better than the rest of us! You’re not even that smart!"

Christine calmly returned the compact, then strode slowly toward Gina. Regarding her with obvious condescension, she tucked the riding crop under Gina’s chin, then lifted it slowly upward, forcing Gina’s head up with it. Gina glared at her but remained silent.

"I am smarter than you, you greasy Italian bitch, and don’t forget it," Christine said. "Which one of us is on her knees now, tied up, waiting to be tickled – and which one of us is free to do as she pleases?"

Gina said nothing, but her lower lip trembled with rage and humiliation.

Christine circled slowly around behind Gina, regarding her coolly. She bent the riding crop toward Gina’s stocking left foot, and gave a quick stroke up the sole. Gina let out a yelp as the Tickling Serum did its work.

Christine smiled. "See, honey, you do what I tell you to around here, or you’ll be sorry."

Gina smirked. "I guess you’re one of those, too, huh?"

Christine’s evil smile widened. "No, I’m not," she replied. "But Diana, who’ll be giving your hot wax, is. And wait till Christine tells her about that little remark. Want to guess how Diana feels about homophobes?"

Gina shuddered, foreseeing her punishment, but again remained silent, and glared at Christine with undisguised hatred.

"Well, Christine has her duties to attend to, before she can relax," Christine said. "I advise you to be ready for your hot wax at 11 on Tuesday. Diana doesn’t like to be kept waiting." With that she swaggered to the cell door and left, locking it behind her.

Gina’s eyes began to fill with tears of rage as she bristled at the encounter. Who the hell did Christine think she was, anyway? Where does she get off with all this attitude? Just because she pulled a fast one. Someone ought to teach her a thing or two. Someone ought to put her in her place. Someone ought…

Then, an idea entered her mind. And a faint smile crossed her face. Yes, she thought. Yes, yes. Oh, yes. Christine’s going to find out just how important she really is. I’m no dummy. "Christine is smarter than you," is it? Well, Christine is going to find out that Gina has a trick or two of her own up her sleeve…

A few days later, Gina was occupied with Dan.

He had come for one of his regularly scheduled sessions with Gina. It had begun with a long tickling session – as with anything in the Dungeon, it was not pleasant, but Gina knew it could be a lot worse. They had had sex; then Dan had insisted on a back rub.

"Jeez, you’re tense," Gina said as she rubbed Dan’s shoulders. "You’d think that between the tickling and the sex you would have loosened up by now."

"I’ve had a tough week," Dan replied.

"Doing what? Studying psychology? Give me a break," she laughed. "You want to know about a tough week, talk to me." Dan laughed in return. He had originally abducted Gina for the Nylon Dungeon because of an obsession with her that had arisen out of a flirtation in their college classes. She remained his favorite captive in the Dungeon. And although she knew that he would grow angry and retaliate if she strayed too far beyond the bounds of the captor-captive relationship, she also knew that she had more leeway to talk and joke freely with Dan than she would with another member. She was hoping, today, to use that leeway to carry out her plans for Christine.

"Dan…" she began tentatively. "I was wondering…I know this is against the rules, but…do you think I could ask you for a favor?"

"No, I’m not going to let you go," he said, laughing.

"I know that," she said with a smile. "It has to do with…Christine."

Gina related to Dan the story of her encounter with Christine a few days earlier. "I really think she needs to be put in her place," she concluded. "For…the good of the Nylon Dungeon."

"Oh, yeah, like you care about the good of the Nylon Dungeon," he said.

"Well, OK." She laughed. "But seriously though, don’t you think she has too much attitude…given her…you know…status around here?" She leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially into Dan’s ear. "I’ve heard that technically, she’s still a prisoner here."

Dan already knew that was the case, but he often indulged Gina’s desire to gossip, knowing that she had few other diversions. So he listened while Gina continued with her story.

"About a week ago, I was on my way to a session with Dr. Jeffrie's…"

Dr. Jeffrie's was a successful radiologist, a prominent member of the African-American community in St. Louis, Missouri, a member of several local charitable and civic societies – and also, secretly, a member of the Nylon Dungeon. His own preference was to lead his prisoners blindfolded to tickling sessions and to keep them blindfolded throughout the session.

"…so I was blindfolded, and couldn’t see," Gina continued. "But in the hall, we passed two of the members – I think it was Matt, and the Weas- er, Alvin…"

Dan laughed out loud. "Don’t let him hear you call him that, if you know what’s good for you." Alvin objected angrily to the fact that the captives called him "the Weasel" behind his back, and would severely tickle-torture any girl who he heard use the insulting nickname.

Gina couldn’t help but chuckle herself, but she continued with the story. "Anyway, I heard them talking about Christine, and they were saying that technically she’s still a Nylon Dungeon captive, and that if someone wants to, he can still tickle her, and she has to…well, you know." Gina swallowed, trying to ignore the reminder of how humiliating her own life in the Dungeon was.

"That’s true," Dan said, "but no one ever does. Christine is valuable enough that we basically think she’s more useful doing what she does."

"Oh come on," Gina said. "Valuable? Telling girls what shade of makeup to use? Anyone can do that. She’s gotten really arrogant, Dan. She practically thinks she’s a member herself. She needs to be put in her place."

Gina suddenly stopped her back rub, and circled around in front of Dan.

"This is the favor I was asking about. I want you to teach that little blonde bitch a lesson. Give her a tickling session."

Dan laughed. "Are you serious? You want me to tickle Christine?"

"Yes, I do," Gina said firmly. "Because she needs to be shown that she’s not any better than anyone else in here. Get her, Dan. Get her good." She looked deeply into his eyes. "Please, Dan. For me."

Dan knew, deep down, that on some level that Gina was manipulating him. But it was, relatively speaking, a small favor. And anyway, she did have a point…

"OK," he answered, "I will."

That Friday, Matt and Joe, sitting at a table in the Nylon Dungeon’s lounge, were having a few drinks with Nigel and Duncan Moore, who had stopped by for the weekend. Matt was relating the story that Dan had passed on to him earlier.

"…and so he really did – he went up to the computer and requested Christine as his tickle-slave girl for tonight." Matt took a drink of beer. "I didn’t think he’d follow through with it, but he did."

Duncan took a sip of his Scotch (neat). "I do hope this boy isn’t letting this Gina manipulate him," he said. "We know where that could lead."

Nigel laughed and took a drink of ale. "You don’t have to worry about Dan," he said. "He’s a lot smarter than he comes across, and he’s a lot smarter than the captives give him credit for." He smiled. "I’m pretty sure I know where he’s going with this."

Not long afterward, Christine was seated on the sofa in her room, sipping a mineral water and watching her TV. "For a question like that, he uses a lifeline?" she said aloud. "Christine really needs to be a contestant on this thing – Christine would clean up."

Her reverie was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. She snatched up her remote and turned down the volume. "Enter," she said.

Two Nylon Dungeon guards entered the room. They were carrying restraints and stun guns.

Christine laughed and crossed her legs. "Good heavens, boys, surely my services aren’t needed right now," she said. "It’s Friday night – party time in the old Dungeon, you know? I’m sure any girl you’ve picked up can wait until tomorrow morning. Unless," she continued slyly, "you boys are supposed to be my entertainment for the evening."

"Let’s go, Christine," one of the guards barked. "You’ve been requested for a tickling session."

Christine stared at the guards for a moment in disbelief. "What?" she finally said.

"A tickling session," he repeated. "Come on, let’s move it."

"Boys," she said with gravity, "Christine does not get tickled."

"We’ve got the order right here," the other guard said. "We’re to pick you up, take you to Cell 147, and bind you for a tickling session."

Christine got up and strode over to the guard with an angry look on her face. "Let me see that," she snapped. Before the guard could react, she snatched the sheet of paper out of his hand. Her distress began to become apparent in her eyes as she read the paper. "This has to be a mistake," she said. "I’m not supposed to be…"

"We’re wasting time," the first guard said. "Move it!"

"I’m not going anyplace! We’re supposed to have a deal!"

The first guard took hold of her arms. She immediately turned and kicked him in the shins. "Ow!" he howled. "All right, that’s enough!"

The two guards seized the struggling Christine and forced her arms behind her back, securing them with handcuffs. A collar with a chain was locked around her neck.

"Let me go!" Christine demanded. She continued to fight and struggle as the guards dragged her from the room and down the hallway.

About a half hour later, Dan entered the cell.

Christine was bound in a seated position, her arms still behind her back. Her black-stocking legs were locked into a set of stocks. A similar chair, empty, stood to her right.

"What the hell is going on, Dan?" Christine barked as soon as Dan entered the cell. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"What do I think I’m doing? I’m tickling a girl, just like I joined the Nylon Dungeon to do."

"You know that I’m supposed to have a deal!"

"Your deal," Dan said, "is that you don’t normally get tickled. But if a member wants to tickle you, you have to submit to it. Have you forgotten?"

"So all of a sudden you want to tickle me? That’s bullshit. What’s this all about, anyhow?"

"Who says it has to be about anything?"

Christine regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. Then she said, "Did Gina put you up to this?"

"Gina might have mentioned something," Dan said with a sideways glance.

Christine sighed. "You idiot! Can’t you see she’s just using you?"

Dan chuckled. "Christine, I understand Gina better than you think I do – and better than she thinks I do."

He walked slowly toward Christine, his eyes riveted on her thrusting, squirming black high heels. Christine began to shiver.

"But you know what? Gina has a point. You’ve begun to get too big for your britches around here, Christine. You need to be taken down a notch." He paused, still eyeing her feet. "I wasn’t sure myself until just a second ago. But the way you reacted when I came in here – you’ve really begun to forget that you’re still a captive here. I think it’s about time someone reminded you."

Christine swallowed hard. "Um…Dan…look…can’t we talk about this?"

Dan, with a cruel smile, plucked the shoes from her feet. Her feet, bare in their black stockings, redoubled their squirming. Christine began almost involuntarily to pull at her cuffed wrists. Her eyes widened. "I wonder, Christine…do you still remember where your Marks are?" She shuddered. "I’ll bet I can find them."

"Dan…really…I mean, OK, you’re right…I know I’ve been acting like a big shot lately, I promise I’ll stop…really…Christine can control her behavior…"

"You know," Dan said, "that little habit you have of calling yourself in the third person – it really gets on my nerves sometimes." With that he dug fiercely into both soles.

Christine broke into a sudden scream of laughter. "I guess I’ve hit a Mark already," he said. He tickled her soles vigorously for a few minutes, then broke off. Christine was already gasping. Through her giggles, she forced out the words. "Dan…p-please…don’t d-do this…I’ll be good, I’ll be really good…"

"Sorry, Christine," he said. "You’ve been a naughty girl and you need to be punished. But if it’s any satisfaction to you, you won’t be punished alone."

He walked over to the wall and pressed a red button. A minute or two later the cell door clanged open. The guards led a female figure into the room. She was moved over to the chair next to Christine and locked into it, her arms behind her back, her ankles in the stocks. A blindfold covering her eyes was removed. A slight smile formed on Christine’s lips.

"DAN!" Gina shouted as the blindfold came loose from her eyes. "What are you doing? I told you to tickle her – not me!"

"You told me?" Dan answered. "Have you forgotten that you’re not supposed to tell me anything? You’re my slave girl, remember – even the Marks on your feet say ‘Dan’s Girl.’"

Gina suddenly realized she had gone too far. She shuddered and attempted to apologize. "Uh, I’m, I’m sorry, Dan, I know you’re in charge, you do what you want, I, just, I, uh…"

"Pipe down, Gina," Dan said. "God, for a girl who thinks she’s so clever, you’re a really lousy liar."

Dan pulled up a small wooden chair and sat in front of the two girls, his chair straddling the area between them. "The thing is, both of you need to be taught a lesson here. You’ve both been developing a little too much attitude lately, and that isn’t just my idea, or yours – it’s becoming a topic of discussion among some of the members. Fortunately," he said, "I’ve got a long weekend from school. And the two of you are mine to play with for the weekend."

Christine, seeing the evil glint in Dan’s eye, again shuddered and bit her lower lip. She looked over at Gina, who nervously said, "Dan…um, wouldn’t you rather have a nice back rub?"

"Maybe later," he laughed. "But for now – I need to relieve some tension. You see, I’ve had a rough week." Both girls shrieked as he dug his fingers into Christine’s black-stocking right sole and Gina’s tan-stocking left. Gina threw her head back and screamed hard with laughter, while Christine’s head thrust from side to side as she tried to hold it back, until she too exploded.

Dan masterfully used his hands for the next two hours or so, extracting the maximum torment from each of his captive’s feet while never letting either have more than a few minutes’ relief – just enough to catch her breath. While scrabbling his fingers across one girl’s soles, he would dig into the other’s Marks, or under their toes. He would make rapid strokes up one sole and down another, switching between Christine’s right and left feet and Gina’s right and left. Both girls gasped and shrieked with laughter and struggled until they felt they would dislocate their legs. Tears ran down their red, hysterical faces.

Finally, Dan stopped his attack, leaving both girls giggling. Again he walked over to the side of the cell and pressed a button.

A few minutes later, the door opened. Matt and Joe entered, grinning.

"Care to join me, fellas?" Dan said with an evil grin.



-The End-
 
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