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The Perils of Linda, part 1

Aragorn

TMF Regular
Joined
Apr 22, 2001
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As you can see, it's not my story, so I'm not taking credit. Enjoy.


The Perils of Linda
...by Malasfan.
[email protected]...

Part 1

"But, Daddy!" whined Linda, "I didn't agree to that!"

"Actually you did, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, Linda," said her sister Karen. "You said you that if you didn't repay the loan, you'd agree to any punishment I specified."

"But...."



"Actually it's not a bad idea", interjected their mother Doris. It might help business. "What do you think, George?"

"Hmmm. It might at that. At the very least, it will teach Linda to honor commitments, and it wouldn't hurt her to help out at the museum once in a while."

"I spend my Saturday s giving tours there to earn some extra money," said Karen. "Then I lend it to you to go shopping with while I m there earning some more for myself."

"I said I d pay you back." Linda had planned to go shopping this Saturday morning, and was dressed comfortably in her new white spaghetti-strap sundress for what the weatherman had projected to be an unseasonably hot Spring day. There is no way I'm going to help out by spending Saturday afternoon in that gloomy museum, especially not in that section." She put her fists on her hips for emphasis.

"Yes you will, Linda Elaine Johnson," said her mother, "and there will be no further arguments about it." That was all there was to it. When her mother used all three names, it meant the discussion was over.

Linda looked pleadingly at her sister, and said, "Come on, Karen, cut me some slack on this."

"No way, Linda. You said you'd pay the money back by Saturday, and what do you do? You go and buy that dress with it, that s what."

Linda looked at her mother, and saw she was not going to get any sympathy from her. Nor from her father either, who was just putting on his suit coat for another Saturday as curator and owner of the museum.

"Oh, well, I guess," she said, letting her arms move out and fall against her thighs in a dismissive gesture. "I'll go get changed." She started to leave.

"No need to get changed. You look fine like that," said her mother.

"Oh, no. There's no way I m spending Saturday in the torture chamber dressed like this."

"Why not, Linda," giggled Karen. "You don't think anything about going to the mall dressed like that."

"That s different!"

"What s so different about it?" asked her father.

"It...it just is...." What had she gotten herself into? She hadn't thought Karen was serious when she demanded that Linda act as a model to demonstrate the torture devices in the museum. She shuddered at the thought.

"Nobody s going to hurt you, dear," said her mother. "It's just make-believe."

"I know that. It s just that...well, you know. Shopping and being tortured are two different things."

"I might disagree with you there," said Mr. Johnson, but clammed up when he saw his wife s withering look.

"Come on, Linda," said her sister happily, "it'll be fun being tortured."

"Yeah, right."

Her eleven-year-old brother Bobby came bounding down the stairs and said, "Who s going to be tortured?" Like all eleven-year-old boys, he was fascinated with torture.

"Nobody," said Linda.

"Linda is going to be tortured at the museum."

Bobby s eyes grew wide with a newfound respect for his big sister.

"Wow!" he said. "I'm going to tell Eddie." Then he ran out the door.

"Thanks a lot, Karen."

"Anytime."

As they stood before the solid unvarnished oak door, Linda said, "I don't know about this."

Her father opened it and Karen and their mother each took one of Linda's arms and led her inside, where there were several torture devices from the middle ages. Chains hung from one wall, near another was an X-frame, and in the center of the room was a rack. "I'll go open the front doors for business," said their father.

"Let's chain her to the wall for openers," said Karen. "How does that sound?"

"Yeah, great," answered Linda as they led her to the wall. They turned her around so that her back was to the wall below two opened manacles. Nervously, she rubbed the goosebumps on her arms as Karen got the key.

Karen lifted one of Linda's arms and placed her wrist in a manacle, locking it in place with a cast iron key. She did the same to her other arm, then stepped back to look at her sister. Linda s arms were held high over head like a damsel in distress in a movie. The iron manacles were cold and heavy against her wrists. She wrapped her fingers around the chains, then wondered why damsels always did that. For some reason, it just seemed the natural thing to do.

Stooping down, Karen took a set of leg irons attached together with a short chain, and locked her feet into place. "There, that should hold you."

"We simply have to get picture of this," said Doris.

"Mom! This is so embarrassing. It would have been bad enough being chained to a wall without wearing a low-cut sundress."

"Nonsense, you look lovely."

Just then the door opened and her father walked in, looking at his poor daughter with amusement. "Now, Linda. Isn't it better to hang out here than at some boring mall?" He chuckled, pleased at his wit.

Her father had a strange sense of humor, Linda thought. Very funny. No it wasn't better to be chained to a wall with her family laughing at her than shopping. Already, she was getting restless and wanted to be set free.

As if reading her thoughts, her father said as if giving a lecture, "These manacles, as well as the other torture devices, are replicas of the kind used during the Spanish Inquisition. Although not the originals, they are fully functional."

Linda looked up at her manacled wrists and shook the chains, making a rattling sound. "That's nice to know."

"Come on, ladies, I need a little help with a display."

"All right," said Doris. "Don't go anywhere, Linda. We'll be back in a bit."

Linda sighed and tried shifting to get comfortable, but the chains held her arms up high with about three feet separating each wrist. There was no way she was going to get loose; the chains were set securely into a stone wall. The metal shackles were also heavy around her ankles. How did girls in movies act so nonchalant about being chained up like this? It was downright irritating! Every time she moved, there was a metallic rattling sound. Sooner or later a visitor was going to come in here, possibly a guided tour, and see her in this predicament. How embarrassing! She rattled the chains in frustration when the door opened and her brother Bobby and his creepy friend Eddie came in.

"See?" said Bobby. "Pay up."

"No way," said Eddie, looking at the chained Linda in awe. His eyes travelled up and down her slim frame.

Oh, great. Just what the day needed. Two pre-adolescent brats staring at her body, one of them her brother.

Both of them tentatively walked toward her until they stood in front of her, silently staring at the sight in disbelief. "Cool, Linda," said her little brother, visibly impressed.

"What are you little dweebs staring at?"

"Pay up, Eddie.



Eddie shrugged and said, "You said she was being tortured. Nobody's torturing her."

"What the hell do you call this?" said Linda, waving her arms what little she could wave them. The room was filled with the clanking of chains.

"Those chains aren t even real."

"Yes they are," said Bobby defensively. He didn't like anybody questioning his family s honor by suggesting anything in the museum was fake. "Aren't they, Linda? Aren't the chains real?"

"Yes, you brat. Would I be standing here like this if they weren t? Now get out of here."

But neither boy looked like they were going to leave anytime soon. Eddie's eyes kept scanning her bare skin, from her cleavage up and down her bare arms. As he licked his lips, Linda could almost see his mind working. Without glancing away from Linda's scantily-clad body, he said, "Are you sure she can t get loose, Bobby?"

Bobby boasted, "Nobody could escape from this dungeon!"

"Good. Let s tickle her then." His stare had settled on her bare left underarm.

"Eddie!" said Linda. "Don't you dare!"

I don't know," said Bobby doubtfully.

"What s she going to do about it?" Eddie reached up and touched her arm just above her armpit, then stroked down until it reached her upper side. She jerked away best she could and let out a feminine shriek that delighted Eddie. Linda didn't know that Eddie was always torturing his little sister this way, and was positively ecstatic at the possibility of doing it to a grown woman.

"Eddie, maybe we shouldn't do this," but the sound of her voice when Eddie had touched her underarm had Bobby intrigued.

Slowly, Eddie reached for her other underarm. Linda tried to escape the probing finger by moving to the side, but there was very little freedom of movement and Eddie caused her to shriek again as the small finger stroked her smooth underarm.

"Try it, Bobby."

"Bobby! Don t you dare.



But the sight of his older sister in the sundress with her arms chained high over her head exposing her bare underarms, coupled with the prospect of hearing another delightful shriek won out over his conscience. He wouldn't get another chance like this. He reached up and barely touched his sister's underarm, enjoying the way it stretched out as she tensed and tried to move away. It was warm and smooth to the touch. It felt nice. Because he only touched it, she let out a whimper instead of a shriek.

"See? She likes it," said Eddie happily.

"Yeah," said Bobby in wonderment.

"I do not! Mom! Daddy! Help me! Karen!" Linda looked pleadingly at both boys, then screamed as Eddie wiggled a finger at her underarm.

"Your sister's real ticklish. Let's do a blitz on her."

Bobby still had some doubts about torturing his sister. He wasn't by nature cruel toward her. In fact, he felt right now that he had the coolest sister in the world, chained up as she was. There were also areas where he knew he shouldn't touch her, such as her breasts, but he didn't think her underarms were such an area. If they were then why was she chained while wearing that dress? This thought process took about a second and a half to complete, at the conclusion of which he said, "Okay. Tickle blitz!"

"Noooo," shouted Linda as both smiling boys reached for an underarm and worked their fingers up and down rapidly. The sounds of laughter and clanking chains as she tried to jerk free filled the chamber. With both arms held high, there was nothing she could do to stop the assault on her underarms. She could not pull her arms down, nor could she protect herself with her hands. It was agony, brought on by the fingers working their way from her upper sides to her upper arms. "Help me!!!" she managed to scream between bursts of laughter. The door finally opened, and her parents, sister, and a woman she didn't know with a camera came in, but before the boys stopped the stranger had taken a snapshot of her being tickled.

"Bobby, stop that right now!" said her mother.

Mercifully the tickling stopped as Bobby and Eddie realized they were caught. Bobby felt embarrassed, as he looked at Linda trying to catch her breath, her wrists still firmly in the manacles. The chains really were genuine. Before, he hadn't been sure.

"Let me out of these things!" yelled Linda. "Did you see what those brats were doing to me?"

Karen said, "Linda, this is Sandy Daniels from the Midtown Reader. She's doing a story on the museum. The Midtown Reader was the local alternative weekly free paper."

"Yeah, Linda," said Sandy. "That was a great shot of you and the kids. I ll need you to sign a release form so I can print it."

"When hell freezes over," said Linda. "I don't want the whole town to see me like this."

"Come on, Linda," said her mother. "We need all of the publicity we can get."

Karen had an idea. "Maybe we can persuade her to sign it."

"How?" asked her mother.

"Well...this is a torture chamber."

Linda was aghast. "Karen!"

"She does have a point, Linda. We could always put you on the rack, stretch you out tightly, and give you a tickling you'd never forget."

"Mom!" Linda gasped as she looked at the evil-looking wooden device in the middle of the room, equipped with stocks for the feet and ropes with leather cuffs attached to a roller at the other end.

"Will you sign it, Linda?" asked Karen, who smiled wickedly as she looked back at the dreaded device. "Or will it be the rack? Keep in mind we'll take your shoes off as soon as you're in place." She left the rest unsaid.

Linda weighed her options, which seemed extremely limited at this point in time. The prospect of being attached to that thing and having her own family work on her feet was more than she could take. It had been bad enough being chained with her underarms exposed for those two brats to tickle. The rack would be even worse. "Oh, all right, but I don't want to be put on that thing."

"Agreed." Karen got the key and unlocked the right cuff, letting Linda s arm down so she could sign the release form that Sandy had on a clipboard. Once it was signed, Karen reattached her arm.

Linda sighed in resignation. At least she had escaped the rack.

to be continued
 
One the first stories that I read on this site. A fine old classic. :D
 
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