tickledorange
2nd Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2002
- Messages
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Can also be found at: www.ticklingforum.com/forumdisplay.php?f=182
If anyone finds any errors, PM me. I proofread it, but ya never know.
“This is John Wallis with Channel 2 news in Saint Louis. We take you to what is now a developing story in out area: the alleged kidnapping of 22 year old college student, Christine Walden. We go live now to Julie Wertz, who is with the family of Christine. Julie, what can you tell us?”
“Well, John, 22 year old Christine was last seen at the college campus around 10 PM when she left work here. Friends say she usually walked home from school on these days, since it was a lighted path of only half a mile. As you can see behind me, friends and family of Christine have now flooded the local streets and homes of residents with these yellow fliers, saying if they have any information on the disappearance of Ms Walden, you should immediately get in touch with the local authorities.”
“What about friends and family? Do you have any word from them?”
“The spokesperson from the family held a press conference earlier, but he only mentioned that there has been no word from Christine and authorities are taking the appropriate actions necessary at this moment. As of now, we can only wait for this story to develop. This is Julie Wertz with channel 2.”
“Thanks Julie. Now, here is the number for the Belleville Police Department, posted on the screen right there. If you have any information at all, you are encouraged to contact them immediately.”
********************
Brett had seen them on his way home that night: the fliers, millions of them. Many times, he had pulled over to the side of the road, swiping as many of them as he could before someone came by. When they did, he would just pretend to be putting them up, holding his hand to look like a stapler. After the interference drove away, he would resume his tedious task. In the passenger’s seat, there must have been over 100 fliers snagged from various places around town.
He pulled into the driveway as quick as he could, eager to catch the news broadcast he had taped earlier. He jumped out of the car, flew to the living room and sat back on the couch. Flipping on the tape, he joyously watched as his story appeared as the number one, top news item of the day. He listened to the whole story, relishing in a few selected phrases: “…..no leads….no evidence…thorough job.”
In an instant, it all changed. The camera had focused on a woman in the background. She was tacking the fliers to the telephone pole, the same yellow sheets that Brett clutched in his tight fist. He immediately turned off the TV and stormed to the basement. He unlocked the door to where Christine was being held and pushed himself inside intrusively. Immediately, he stared at her gagged and blindfolded form as she sat still in the chair, listening to the sounds of Brett stomping around her cell and stapling the fliers to her wall. After completing his angry task, he tore Christine’s blindfold from her eyes, pulled out her gag, and held her shaking head on both sides, placing his hands firmly on her cheeks. “Look at this, look what you caused,” he said sternly to her.
Christine didn’t say a word as she moved her eyes around the walls, focusing on each flier as her head was turned in its direction. She recognized the picture on it: her recent birthday party. She held back her tears as she listened to Brett lecture her. “I can’t believe you would do this to me Christine, after all I have done for you. I let you stay here, I’ve caused you no harm. Why do you always have to do this to me?”
Christine could take no more. For the past few days, Brett had done nothing but tell her how horrible she was and what a waste of storage she was, and in the next breath he told her how beautiful she was and a joy to tickle. Either way, it sickened her. “I can’t believe you! I don’t know what you want! I try being quiet, that enrages you! I try being nice, you ignore me! When I snap at you, you torture me! I have no idea how to make you happy so you will just let me the fuck go! I want out of this horrible place and away from you!”
Brett closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, “Christine, Christine,” he said coldly, grabbing her hair, “all I want from you is to be obedient, and somehow, you can never do that for me. You know what I really want right now? I want you to tell me the name of your friend that I saw on the news earlier putting up all these fliers.”
Christine had a defiant look in her eye as she stared at Brett, who was now showing her a series of pictures from his pocket. “Just so you know,” he said, “I followed her while she was doing it. Here is one of her putting them up. Oh, look at this one, she almost saw me. Here’s another one, her having to reach up to put one in a window of a shop. She looks like she has some pretty nice features,” he said, shoving each picture in her face. “Now all I need from you, is her name.”
Brett sat in a seat across from Christine and rested his elbows on the top. Each of them stared at the other for ten minutes, before Christine spoke, “I’ll never tell you.” She said sternly.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Brett ripped her from her seat, leaving her hands tied together as he untied the rest of her. He shoved her around the basement until she nearly fell over a table near the cell. He set her on top of it with full force and tied her feet to a bar near the bottom of the table. Christine struggled beneath him as he placed all his weight on her back while tying her feet with his now freed hands. He liked the feeling of her struggling beneath him, it was intense.
When he climbed off, he stood over her for a while before Christine attempted to turn her head in his direction, trying to beg him not to make her go through the madness again. Before she could utter a word, Brett dug his fingers into her ribs, sending many shockwaves from her nerves to her exploited ribs. She struggled and bounced beneath him, trying her best to shake off his tickling fingers, but he had a fastened grip around all of them. He enjoyed her torment, moving his hands to her underarms now. Christine shifted the muscles in her arms, hoping to trap Brett’s fingers so they couldn’t get her anymore, but she just made it worse for herself. He continued pushing his fingers into them, tickling as deep and as fast as the tolerance would let him. This proved to be worse torture for Christine. She bucked on her stomach, rolling from side to side, begging with any air she was allowed. “OMG, don’t hahaha tickle meeehehehe anymore, plehehehse, just stohohohohop,” she pushed out between breaths.
However, Brett could have cared less about any of this. He continued full force on the sides of her tummy, hoping to get her to confess the name of whoever it was that was trying to interfere with their happiness, but Christine wasn’t relenting. She continued to be passive about the issue during the torture. Not even tickling her tummy and bellybutton helped. She just rolled violently, struggling to get away from Brett as he tickled the exposed parts of her bare tummy. “Who is your friend?” he asked coaxingly, gritting his teeth through the entire sentence.
Christine couldn’t take anymore. Brett had now shifted back to her worst area, the ribs. He tickled between each one with the rigor he had used on the rest of her body, stopping for noting but a few seconds to let er breathing catch up. She lay pressed against the padded table as deep as she could go, but nothing helped. The relentless tickling against each bone and nerve drove her out of her mind. She was barely at the point of remembering anything at all but the sensations again, so she figured she must do her part now. After all, passing out before had been a horrible thing, and Brett had done it to her almost seven times now, she did not want to make this the eighth. She mustered up the oxygen in her lungs as she said in a raspy voice “I’ll tahahahahalk, just stop thihhihihihihs ahahahahahahahhahahahaha!”
Brett stopped tickling and pulled a piece of paper off the nearby table. Christine rattled off every detail to him as she sat in stone silence while he caught up and wrote it all down. “Thank you, you just made my night,” he said, smiling at her.
Christine didn’t even have time to retaliate toward him. Brett picked up her gag and shoved it back in her mouth, tying the end to the back of her head. “Now to get you back to your cell.”
Christine’s eyes widened in horror as she knew what this meant. She felt the light tickling on the bottoms of her feet for a few seconds before the all out tickle torment began. He held back the base of her toes with his firm grasp as he tickled along both soles with his free hand. Christine almost fell off the table from all the wild laughter that poured from her as Brett continued to tickle her soles. She could feel reality slipping from her as the atmosphere around her slipped into darkness.
Brett immediately stopped tickling, switching to light touches on her feet as he watched her drift off, listening to the occasional “no” as she giggled softly before passing out.
Brett marched upstairs, leaving her in her current condition as he locked the cell door behind him. Immediately, he booted up his laptop, grabbed a bottle of water, and typed “Katie Worlick” into Yahoo Search.
If anyone finds any errors, PM me. I proofread it, but ya never know.
“This is John Wallis with Channel 2 news in Saint Louis. We take you to what is now a developing story in out area: the alleged kidnapping of 22 year old college student, Christine Walden. We go live now to Julie Wertz, who is with the family of Christine. Julie, what can you tell us?”
“Well, John, 22 year old Christine was last seen at the college campus around 10 PM when she left work here. Friends say she usually walked home from school on these days, since it was a lighted path of only half a mile. As you can see behind me, friends and family of Christine have now flooded the local streets and homes of residents with these yellow fliers, saying if they have any information on the disappearance of Ms Walden, you should immediately get in touch with the local authorities.”
“What about friends and family? Do you have any word from them?”
“The spokesperson from the family held a press conference earlier, but he only mentioned that there has been no word from Christine and authorities are taking the appropriate actions necessary at this moment. As of now, we can only wait for this story to develop. This is Julie Wertz with channel 2.”
“Thanks Julie. Now, here is the number for the Belleville Police Department, posted on the screen right there. If you have any information at all, you are encouraged to contact them immediately.”
********************
Brett had seen them on his way home that night: the fliers, millions of them. Many times, he had pulled over to the side of the road, swiping as many of them as he could before someone came by. When they did, he would just pretend to be putting them up, holding his hand to look like a stapler. After the interference drove away, he would resume his tedious task. In the passenger’s seat, there must have been over 100 fliers snagged from various places around town.
He pulled into the driveway as quick as he could, eager to catch the news broadcast he had taped earlier. He jumped out of the car, flew to the living room and sat back on the couch. Flipping on the tape, he joyously watched as his story appeared as the number one, top news item of the day. He listened to the whole story, relishing in a few selected phrases: “…..no leads….no evidence…thorough job.”
In an instant, it all changed. The camera had focused on a woman in the background. She was tacking the fliers to the telephone pole, the same yellow sheets that Brett clutched in his tight fist. He immediately turned off the TV and stormed to the basement. He unlocked the door to where Christine was being held and pushed himself inside intrusively. Immediately, he stared at her gagged and blindfolded form as she sat still in the chair, listening to the sounds of Brett stomping around her cell and stapling the fliers to her wall. After completing his angry task, he tore Christine’s blindfold from her eyes, pulled out her gag, and held her shaking head on both sides, placing his hands firmly on her cheeks. “Look at this, look what you caused,” he said sternly to her.
Christine didn’t say a word as she moved her eyes around the walls, focusing on each flier as her head was turned in its direction. She recognized the picture on it: her recent birthday party. She held back her tears as she listened to Brett lecture her. “I can’t believe you would do this to me Christine, after all I have done for you. I let you stay here, I’ve caused you no harm. Why do you always have to do this to me?”
Christine could take no more. For the past few days, Brett had done nothing but tell her how horrible she was and what a waste of storage she was, and in the next breath he told her how beautiful she was and a joy to tickle. Either way, it sickened her. “I can’t believe you! I don’t know what you want! I try being quiet, that enrages you! I try being nice, you ignore me! When I snap at you, you torture me! I have no idea how to make you happy so you will just let me the fuck go! I want out of this horrible place and away from you!”
Brett closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, “Christine, Christine,” he said coldly, grabbing her hair, “all I want from you is to be obedient, and somehow, you can never do that for me. You know what I really want right now? I want you to tell me the name of your friend that I saw on the news earlier putting up all these fliers.”
Christine had a defiant look in her eye as she stared at Brett, who was now showing her a series of pictures from his pocket. “Just so you know,” he said, “I followed her while she was doing it. Here is one of her putting them up. Oh, look at this one, she almost saw me. Here’s another one, her having to reach up to put one in a window of a shop. She looks like she has some pretty nice features,” he said, shoving each picture in her face. “Now all I need from you, is her name.”
Brett sat in a seat across from Christine and rested his elbows on the top. Each of them stared at the other for ten minutes, before Christine spoke, “I’ll never tell you.” She said sternly.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Brett ripped her from her seat, leaving her hands tied together as he untied the rest of her. He shoved her around the basement until she nearly fell over a table near the cell. He set her on top of it with full force and tied her feet to a bar near the bottom of the table. Christine struggled beneath him as he placed all his weight on her back while tying her feet with his now freed hands. He liked the feeling of her struggling beneath him, it was intense.
When he climbed off, he stood over her for a while before Christine attempted to turn her head in his direction, trying to beg him not to make her go through the madness again. Before she could utter a word, Brett dug his fingers into her ribs, sending many shockwaves from her nerves to her exploited ribs. She struggled and bounced beneath him, trying her best to shake off his tickling fingers, but he had a fastened grip around all of them. He enjoyed her torment, moving his hands to her underarms now. Christine shifted the muscles in her arms, hoping to trap Brett’s fingers so they couldn’t get her anymore, but she just made it worse for herself. He continued pushing his fingers into them, tickling as deep and as fast as the tolerance would let him. This proved to be worse torture for Christine. She bucked on her stomach, rolling from side to side, begging with any air she was allowed. “OMG, don’t hahaha tickle meeehehehe anymore, plehehehse, just stohohohohop,” she pushed out between breaths.
However, Brett could have cared less about any of this. He continued full force on the sides of her tummy, hoping to get her to confess the name of whoever it was that was trying to interfere with their happiness, but Christine wasn’t relenting. She continued to be passive about the issue during the torture. Not even tickling her tummy and bellybutton helped. She just rolled violently, struggling to get away from Brett as he tickled the exposed parts of her bare tummy. “Who is your friend?” he asked coaxingly, gritting his teeth through the entire sentence.
Christine couldn’t take anymore. Brett had now shifted back to her worst area, the ribs. He tickled between each one with the rigor he had used on the rest of her body, stopping for noting but a few seconds to let er breathing catch up. She lay pressed against the padded table as deep as she could go, but nothing helped. The relentless tickling against each bone and nerve drove her out of her mind. She was barely at the point of remembering anything at all but the sensations again, so she figured she must do her part now. After all, passing out before had been a horrible thing, and Brett had done it to her almost seven times now, she did not want to make this the eighth. She mustered up the oxygen in her lungs as she said in a raspy voice “I’ll tahahahahalk, just stop thihhihihihihs ahahahahahahahhahahahaha!”
Brett stopped tickling and pulled a piece of paper off the nearby table. Christine rattled off every detail to him as she sat in stone silence while he caught up and wrote it all down. “Thank you, you just made my night,” he said, smiling at her.
Christine didn’t even have time to retaliate toward him. Brett picked up her gag and shoved it back in her mouth, tying the end to the back of her head. “Now to get you back to your cell.”
Christine’s eyes widened in horror as she knew what this meant. She felt the light tickling on the bottoms of her feet for a few seconds before the all out tickle torment began. He held back the base of her toes with his firm grasp as he tickled along both soles with his free hand. Christine almost fell off the table from all the wild laughter that poured from her as Brett continued to tickle her soles. She could feel reality slipping from her as the atmosphere around her slipped into darkness.
Brett immediately stopped tickling, switching to light touches on her feet as he watched her drift off, listening to the occasional “no” as she giggled softly before passing out.
Brett marched upstairs, leaving her in her current condition as he locked the cell door behind him. Immediately, he booted up his laptop, grabbed a bottle of water, and typed “Katie Worlick” into Yahoo Search.
