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The Nylon Dungeon: Linda Part Two
By Daumantas
Linda moaned with frustration as her eyes searched the now-familiar lines of the concrete room. She had sat there for hours, handcuffed, shackled, and gagged, in a position similar to the one she had been in when she first woke up in this horrid place.
That had been just about a week ago, but it already seemed like centuries in hell. Seemingly endless sessions of tickling, her sensitivity worsening all the time. The humiliation of screaming with hysterical laughter and being forced to beg these monsters for mercy. Being forced to watch that awful introductory video, starring Betty Lynn Rau, the television personality who had been missing for months, that underlined what was in store for her and her fellow captives. And, worst of all, the double humiliation she had just experienced – being tied side by side with Jessie, the abducted cheerleader who she had originally set out to track, as they were both mercilessly tickled. She had tried to speak to Jessie, hoping to hatch some sort of escape plan, but the girl was far too terrified even to answer her. Linda understood the terror all too well – she was experiencing it herself. Still, there had to be some way to escape. There just had to, she told herself.
But how? Nearly every time she was conscious, she was in restraints. She was given a sparse amount of time to wash up and beautify herself in the morning – and she quickly discovered that her captors expected results – but during that time she was heavily guarded. She tugged futilely for the hundredth time at her handcuffs.
What a fool I am, she thought. The big hero – I would be the one who would rescue Jessie Barton and uncover the truth. Now, I’m just as helpless as Jessie.
She stared at the blank walls for what seemed like an interminable amount of time. You’d think they could at least give us some entertainment, she thought. And the Dome wasn’t what she had in mind. But however much she hated the boredom of sitting in the blank, empty room for hours, she dreaded even more the inevitable sound of the door opening.
That dreaded sound finally came.
Hello, Linda." She shook with mixed fear and anger as she saw the familiar face – one of the several men who had spent the last few days abusing her. "Resting comfortably?" he said, and drew a finger up her black-stocking sole.
Linda immediately screeched into her gag at the sensation. At first, she assured herself that they had been exaggerating the effects of the Tickling Serum. But after a week in the Dungeon, she had decided that, if anything, they were underestimating.
The man chuckled. "We have a special treat for you today." Linda moaned into her gag. That could not possibly be good news.
"Since you are so interested in learning all you can about Jessie Barron’s kidnapping, and about what has happened to her, we thought we’d take you along on a little trip with us." Linda’s eyes grew wide. What was he talking about?
"Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of reporters riding with police officers on a stakeout, or correspondents traveling with military personnel on duty, or what have you, in order to get the ‘inside story.’ Well, Linda, we’re going to give you the same opportunity here with regard to the Nylon Dungeon. Of course, as you have already learned, you will unfortunately have no opportunity to tell the outside world. I realize that kind of puts a damper on the whole reporting process, but, gosh, it’s just not a perfect world, is it?" He laughed openly, ignoring Linda’s glare.
"We’re going to take you along on a hunting expedition. You’re going to ride in the van with us, and watch as we abduct a fresh captive or three. You will, of course, be given no chance of escape, or of warning our lovely new volunteers of their fate. However, in the interest of fairness to all members of the media, you will be joined by your colleague, Betty Lynn Rau."
The interior of the van was tightly sealed and filled with electronic equipment, much of which Linda didn’t recognize. Sensors, detection devices, about a dozen video screens – these people obviously were prepared. And, ominously, several small bottles of Sleeping Agent, with a larger jug for refill purposes stashed nearby, was neatly tucked into a spare place under one of the computers. Even more ominously, the van contained several sets of handcuffs and shackles.
Linda, wide-eyed and quivering with fear, turned to look at Betty Lynn. Neither woman could offer the other any solace. Both lay on the floor of the van, their hands cuffed behind their backs. The handcuffs were joined by a short chain, binding the two women back to back. Another chain running from the handcuffs attached them to the floor. Their ankles were locked into shackles, bound together and to the floor in a similar manner. Neither woman, of course, wore shoes, leaving helpless Linda’s black-stocking-clad feet, and Betty Lynn’s in her gray nylons.
Both women were ball-gagged. A tentative attempt on Betty Lynn’s part to cry out, in the hopes that a passerby would hear her inside the van, had been rewarded with a ferocious two-minute tickle, delivered to both women. The captives had then been told that the van was fully soundproofed and that no one would hear them – but further attempts to cry out would be punished severely upon their return to the Nylon Dungeon. Both women, able only to imagine how severe their punishment would be, especially in terms of what they had already suffered, remained carefully silent, seemingly resigned to their fate.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears as she watched the video monitors. The hidden cameras on the exterior of the van scanned the nearby sidewalks from every angle. The van was parked on a residential street adjoining several large office buildings. The five Dungeon members in the van were on a "hunting expedition," they had told Linda and Betty Lynn. As women exited the office buildings to walk to their cars, parked in the residential area, they would become vulnerable targets. Linda choked into her gag as the tears flowed more freely. These bastards were going to kidnap another woman for their house of horrors, right in front of her eyes, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
She had hoped that the van would draw attention to itself. But even from the exterior, the Nylon Dungeon members were masters at making themselves unobtrusive. That is, until it was too late.
The five men nonchalantly watched the monitors.
"Possible on camera 5," one said.
Linda looked at the monitor. A woman approached down the sidewalk.
"Too old," another man said. "She reminds me of your grandmother."
"Maybe yours," the first man replied, chuckling. Their nonchalance appalled Linda.
"Camera 2?" a third man said.
The second man looked closely at the monitor. "Nah," he said. "We can do better than that."
A few more minutes of tense waiting. Linda turned again to look at Betty Lynn. She saw that Betty Lynn’s eyes, like hers, were full of tears.
Then, from the second man: "Bingo! Camera 4!"
Linda looked at the monitor. A tall, attractive brunette, tastefully dressed in a business suit with short skirt, taupe nylons, and black high heels, was casually walking down the sidewalk.
"OK, we got her," the first man said, and he and the fourth man exited the van. The third man prepared to make the getaway, the second went to the back of the van to prepare the bonds – and the fifth kept an eye on Linda and Betty Lynn.
The two women could do little but watch helplessly as the two men approached the attractive woman. They couldn’t hear what was said, but Linda saw the small bottle of Sleeping Agent the first man held in his hand. She buried her head against the floor of the van, and shut her tear-stained eyes, not wanting to look.
It took mere seconds. The first man sprayed the woman’s face with the Sleeping Agent, and she had passed out into the arms of the second man. The two had then quickly spirited her into the van. Within minutes, the van was speeding away from the scene, and the men had secured the unconscious woman in shackles and cuffs.
"Gorgeous feet on this one," one of her captors gushed as he removed her left shoe. "What a catch."
"Here’s her driver’s license," another said, as he rummaged through her purse. "Joe, run this through the computer."
Joe did so, and came up with a readout within seconds. He began reading aloud from it. "Name: Pam Russell. Age:26. Profession: Certified Public Accountant. Good, I love professional women." He snickered. "Isn’t that right, Linda?" Linda responded with a gagged groan.
"Well, Ms. Pam Russell will soon be initiated into the joys of the Nylon Dungeon," the second man said. Turning to the two reporters, he smiled. "Well, ladies, this is how we carry out a hunting expedition. I’m sure you will thank us for this exclusive. But, there are more hunting grounds to explore out there before this trip is through. After all, we haven’t used up all those handcuffs and shackles yet, have we?" He laughed aloud. "I believe there is a large university some 60 miles from here. You know all about those fraternity parties, don’t you, Linda?" He laughed again.
The van sped off down the road.
By Daumantas
Linda moaned with frustration as her eyes searched the now-familiar lines of the concrete room. She had sat there for hours, handcuffed, shackled, and gagged, in a position similar to the one she had been in when she first woke up in this horrid place.
That had been just about a week ago, but it already seemed like centuries in hell. Seemingly endless sessions of tickling, her sensitivity worsening all the time. The humiliation of screaming with hysterical laughter and being forced to beg these monsters for mercy. Being forced to watch that awful introductory video, starring Betty Lynn Rau, the television personality who had been missing for months, that underlined what was in store for her and her fellow captives. And, worst of all, the double humiliation she had just experienced – being tied side by side with Jessie, the abducted cheerleader who she had originally set out to track, as they were both mercilessly tickled. She had tried to speak to Jessie, hoping to hatch some sort of escape plan, but the girl was far too terrified even to answer her. Linda understood the terror all too well – she was experiencing it herself. Still, there had to be some way to escape. There just had to, she told herself.
But how? Nearly every time she was conscious, she was in restraints. She was given a sparse amount of time to wash up and beautify herself in the morning – and she quickly discovered that her captors expected results – but during that time she was heavily guarded. She tugged futilely for the hundredth time at her handcuffs.
What a fool I am, she thought. The big hero – I would be the one who would rescue Jessie Barton and uncover the truth. Now, I’m just as helpless as Jessie.
She stared at the blank walls for what seemed like an interminable amount of time. You’d think they could at least give us some entertainment, she thought. And the Dome wasn’t what she had in mind. But however much she hated the boredom of sitting in the blank, empty room for hours, she dreaded even more the inevitable sound of the door opening.
That dreaded sound finally came.
Hello, Linda." She shook with mixed fear and anger as she saw the familiar face – one of the several men who had spent the last few days abusing her. "Resting comfortably?" he said, and drew a finger up her black-stocking sole.
Linda immediately screeched into her gag at the sensation. At first, she assured herself that they had been exaggerating the effects of the Tickling Serum. But after a week in the Dungeon, she had decided that, if anything, they were underestimating.
The man chuckled. "We have a special treat for you today." Linda moaned into her gag. That could not possibly be good news.
"Since you are so interested in learning all you can about Jessie Barron’s kidnapping, and about what has happened to her, we thought we’d take you along on a little trip with us." Linda’s eyes grew wide. What was he talking about?
"Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of reporters riding with police officers on a stakeout, or correspondents traveling with military personnel on duty, or what have you, in order to get the ‘inside story.’ Well, Linda, we’re going to give you the same opportunity here with regard to the Nylon Dungeon. Of course, as you have already learned, you will unfortunately have no opportunity to tell the outside world. I realize that kind of puts a damper on the whole reporting process, but, gosh, it’s just not a perfect world, is it?" He laughed openly, ignoring Linda’s glare.
"We’re going to take you along on a hunting expedition. You’re going to ride in the van with us, and watch as we abduct a fresh captive or three. You will, of course, be given no chance of escape, or of warning our lovely new volunteers of their fate. However, in the interest of fairness to all members of the media, you will be joined by your colleague, Betty Lynn Rau."
The interior of the van was tightly sealed and filled with electronic equipment, much of which Linda didn’t recognize. Sensors, detection devices, about a dozen video screens – these people obviously were prepared. And, ominously, several small bottles of Sleeping Agent, with a larger jug for refill purposes stashed nearby, was neatly tucked into a spare place under one of the computers. Even more ominously, the van contained several sets of handcuffs and shackles.
Linda, wide-eyed and quivering with fear, turned to look at Betty Lynn. Neither woman could offer the other any solace. Both lay on the floor of the van, their hands cuffed behind their backs. The handcuffs were joined by a short chain, binding the two women back to back. Another chain running from the handcuffs attached them to the floor. Their ankles were locked into shackles, bound together and to the floor in a similar manner. Neither woman, of course, wore shoes, leaving helpless Linda’s black-stocking-clad feet, and Betty Lynn’s in her gray nylons.
Both women were ball-gagged. A tentative attempt on Betty Lynn’s part to cry out, in the hopes that a passerby would hear her inside the van, had been rewarded with a ferocious two-minute tickle, delivered to both women. The captives had then been told that the van was fully soundproofed and that no one would hear them – but further attempts to cry out would be punished severely upon their return to the Nylon Dungeon. Both women, able only to imagine how severe their punishment would be, especially in terms of what they had already suffered, remained carefully silent, seemingly resigned to their fate.
Linda’s eyes filled with tears as she watched the video monitors. The hidden cameras on the exterior of the van scanned the nearby sidewalks from every angle. The van was parked on a residential street adjoining several large office buildings. The five Dungeon members in the van were on a "hunting expedition," they had told Linda and Betty Lynn. As women exited the office buildings to walk to their cars, parked in the residential area, they would become vulnerable targets. Linda choked into her gag as the tears flowed more freely. These bastards were going to kidnap another woman for their house of horrors, right in front of her eyes, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
She had hoped that the van would draw attention to itself. But even from the exterior, the Nylon Dungeon members were masters at making themselves unobtrusive. That is, until it was too late.
The five men nonchalantly watched the monitors.
"Possible on camera 5," one said.
Linda looked at the monitor. A woman approached down the sidewalk.
"Too old," another man said. "She reminds me of your grandmother."
"Maybe yours," the first man replied, chuckling. Their nonchalance appalled Linda.
"Camera 2?" a third man said.
The second man looked closely at the monitor. "Nah," he said. "We can do better than that."
A few more minutes of tense waiting. Linda turned again to look at Betty Lynn. She saw that Betty Lynn’s eyes, like hers, were full of tears.
Then, from the second man: "Bingo! Camera 4!"
Linda looked at the monitor. A tall, attractive brunette, tastefully dressed in a business suit with short skirt, taupe nylons, and black high heels, was casually walking down the sidewalk.
"OK, we got her," the first man said, and he and the fourth man exited the van. The third man prepared to make the getaway, the second went to the back of the van to prepare the bonds – and the fifth kept an eye on Linda and Betty Lynn.
The two women could do little but watch helplessly as the two men approached the attractive woman. They couldn’t hear what was said, but Linda saw the small bottle of Sleeping Agent the first man held in his hand. She buried her head against the floor of the van, and shut her tear-stained eyes, not wanting to look.
It took mere seconds. The first man sprayed the woman’s face with the Sleeping Agent, and she had passed out into the arms of the second man. The two had then quickly spirited her into the van. Within minutes, the van was speeding away from the scene, and the men had secured the unconscious woman in shackles and cuffs.
"Gorgeous feet on this one," one of her captors gushed as he removed her left shoe. "What a catch."
"Here’s her driver’s license," another said, as he rummaged through her purse. "Joe, run this through the computer."
Joe did so, and came up with a readout within seconds. He began reading aloud from it. "Name: Pam Russell. Age:26. Profession: Certified Public Accountant. Good, I love professional women." He snickered. "Isn’t that right, Linda?" Linda responded with a gagged groan.
"Well, Ms. Pam Russell will soon be initiated into the joys of the Nylon Dungeon," the second man said. Turning to the two reporters, he smiled. "Well, ladies, this is how we carry out a hunting expedition. I’m sure you will thank us for this exclusive. But, there are more hunting grounds to explore out there before this trip is through. After all, we haven’t used up all those handcuffs and shackles yet, have we?" He laughed aloud. "I believe there is a large university some 60 miles from here. You know all about those fraternity parties, don’t you, Linda?" He laughed again.
The van sped off down the road.
