tdh19882012
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2017
- Messages
- 105
- Points
- 16
Sophia had long since given up hope of escape. Of ever breathing free air again, ever walking unfettered again, ever hearing sounds that didn’t instantly make her cringe and cause her to feel a sinking dread deep inside her being, smelling any scent besides that vague, nothing smell from a furnished but lifeless room, ever seeing a friendly face. Indeed, any face. The mask was all she had seen, nothing besides the white mask and black clothes.
The room had no way of telling time, there were no windows and at first this had disturbed poor Sophia but she had learned fairly quickly, while hogtied, while suspended upside down by her ankles and indeed while locked inside a box that there were far worse things in life than being unsure of the time. It had upset her body clock though, no sunlight, no darkness, just the constant warm glow of dimmed, orange lighting. What sleep she managed was never restful and her waking moments were a dark rollercoaster of emotion, the despair she had fought hard against for so long winning the battle with each minute that ticked silently by.
She ate nothing during her first three days in captivity, her appetite killed by her minds most pressing need, the instinct to fight for her very survival. There was never any genuine threat to her life, no woman is ticklish when she is dead after all, but such an unnatural environment and such painful, bizarre experiences being forced upon her being had somehow convinced her subconscious that her chances of survival were dependent upon her escape from this hell she was slowly becoming forced to call home. These instincts had calmed somewhat, she could never be sure that her life wasn’t in danger, but it was starting to dawn on Sophia that her life was, if anything, to go on for as long as possible. After some time, having fully realised the futility of her situation, she had accepted her food. “Food”... Three smoothies per day, an entirely liquid diet which was surprisingly filling. She had no idea of the ingredients.
Her room was comfortable enough, new linen on the bed every day. A dresser with four drawers each packed with individually wrapped knickers and bras and pairs of ankle socks, all black. Hundreds of them, a new set of each to be worn every day and at the end of each day used items were to be left in the hamper by the door. All had been explained on a neatly folded brochure she had noticed during her first night, but not read until several days later.
Very clean. OCD clean in fact, not a speck of dust to be found, even life on a microbial level would have been difficult to find some days, her room being sterilised by the thus far anonymous masked person extremely frequently while she was held in a straitjacket and strapped tightly inside a wardrobe just a little taller than she, her back to the interior wall, fur-lined leather belts across her ankles, knees, hips and a hood pulled over her head with only two small holes at her nose. A tight, claustrophobic fit which she was gradually becoming used to.
The headphones she wore, in addition to her extensive bondage, during cleaning sessions however… Well, Sophia was most certainly not getting used to them. When not playing her the sounds of women clearly being tickled far, far past the point of fun, there was silence. Deafening silence, causing her ears to ring. Her world during cleaning time became immobility, blindness and deafness. An utter absence of any type of sense, it was due to this that she felt her mind had finally snapped the first time she felt the plasticine-like floor, into which her feet sank around a centimetre or so, of her nightmarish wardrobe being to vibrate.
Ever so softly… Barely noticeable at first. Slowly picking up intensity, the vibrations coursing through the sides of her feet, through the back of her heels and invading her toes. Penetrating deep into her foot from every angle, her entire sole alive with the sensation of… Of… Hell she would later think to herself.
Her feet had been ticklish for as long as she could remember, never during her years had she ever realised just how badly certain types of people lusted after her from the ankles down. She had barely paid her feet any attention her whole life, had never respected her two heavenly gifts and now her life was almost revolving around the fact that… She had feet. It was ridiculous to her. She had been fearful of rape during her abduction and subsequent captivity but her captor’s mind seemed constantly preoccupied with… Her feet.
Feet she would now gladly trade for anything if it meant she could just rest, just stop laughing, stop heaving with laughter, get out of the damned jacket and closet and just run free.
The floor moulded perfectly to her feet, beautifully encasing her heels, arches and the balls of her feet along with each toe and the spaces in between them. It heated up and it pulsated, sending its vibrations deep into Sophia’s feet as she strained against her bonds and soaked her hood with tears of frustration and hopelessness. The headphones came to life once more, a desperate wail “PLEASE PLEASE I WON’T DO IT AG-” cut off by hysterical screeching and demented cackling.
Throwing her smoothie against the door… That had earned Sophia her first punishment. She couldn’t escape, couldn’t fight anybody or scream at anybody for there was never anyone there during her waking hours, the “food” just appeared while she slept, the cleaning took place after she’d been restrained while unconscious from the gas pumped into her room via vents beneath her bed. There was nobody to rage at about her situation, but she could throw things. She threw her pillows and bedding across the room but nothing was as satisfying as watching her smoothie smash against the door and explode across the walls.
Unfortunately, she had screamed for forgiveness around her gag roughly 35 minutes into her punishment. Forced into a strict hogtie naked, oiled hands worked over her ribs, her hips and thighs as she was pinned down on her side… A while pinned down on her left side, a while on the right, being allowed to squirm around at times with wide, desperate eyes seeking some type of connection with her assailant before two hands roughly grabbed her soft sides once more and squeezed the laughter out of her, prodding and massaging the hyper ticklish muscles and joints until her face turned red and she had no air left inside of her. These punishments, she learned, ended the same way every time. When her bladder was empty, she would be untied.
It almost seemed pointless, the punishments. They were no different from her ordinary day to day treatment anyway. She dreaded the days when through the large letter box opening on her door were posted a new pair of denim hotpants, for these were the days when her legs were going to be the area of focus. Her instructions, posted with the clothing, required her to carefully shave her legs and wear nothing bar the hotpants.
Her legs silky smooth and feeling like jelly beneath her, Sophia would await her captor’s attention dressed in nothing but the denim shorts. A short while later, she would be suspended from the ceiling by her ankles and wrists, flailing her body from side to side with sweat and saliva dripping from her face as her thighs were kneaded and her knees pinched and grabbed, begging for mercy despite her deep desire to hurl nothing but verbal abuse towards this evil being. But she couldn’t stop it, the hands followed her every move expertly and seemed glued to her, they couldn’t be stopped, not shaken off, absolutely no escape. They manipulated her legs, played them like instruments and were rewarded with the glorious sounds of desperate, tickled-insane woman.
She was always left with a deep humiliation after each and every session, a grown woman reduced to tears and pleading from something as childish as tickling. She knew full well that this was in no way “childish” tickling, no way at all. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling of shame at being so easily tormented by something that used to make up part of many random, fun games she played as a young child.
Back inside the wardrobe, Sophia had been weeping for some time. The vibrations coursing through her feet had reached their maximum speed and were now moving in waves from heel to toe and back again. The headphones audio was still with the same anonymous woman, clearly coming toward the end of her own session judging by the weakened sound of her laughter and her own pitiful weeping.
It stopped.
The door to her wardrobe opened up, her headphones removed and the hood taken off revealing an exhausted and sweaty Sophia, her head hanging forward as she fought for air, oblivious to all else including the click but not the hum of the floor springing back to life, she threw her head back and wailed with despair as the ticklish waves flowed through her feet once more, even more rapidly than before. She tried her hardest to move, to bounce up and down, to even lift just once foot but it was hopeless. The masked being grabbed Sophia’s hair and held it back to force Sophia to face the ceiling of the wardrobe, then looked down at those beautiful feet cringing and shivering in their torment and watched the sinews in Sophia’s neck straining as the laughter flowed from her throat in an unstoppable stream and her face twisted and contorted into hideous, forced expressions of hilarity.
She squealed for help, she shouted obscenities as her feet sank ever deeper into the hellish floor until she stood ankle deep in the strange substance, “ANYTHING YOU WANT! ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! ANYTHI-” suddenly she was seized, paralysed with laughter as new vibrations assaulted her toes, specifically her toes, almost as if inside them. Hitting every square nanometre of her toes. Eyes wide open, teeth gritted and with pee soaked thighs, she finally lost her battle with unconsciousness.
Sophia awoke several hours later, exquisitely pampered and cleaned down beautifully. The first thing she noticed was her knees, they were pulled back almost as far as her shoulders with her ankles tied up to either side of the bed’s headboard and her wrists tied off somewhere toward the centre of the main bed frame… Her arms resting snug against the back of her thighs. Once more, her new friends immobility and dread had come to visit.
She then noticed the room was pitch black, almost. One very small lamp had been connected to the headboard with its stem extended over her body and angled toward her groin. The yellow light was fairly dim and brightly illuminated her exposed ass and pussy, but very little else. From the opposite side of the room, one would have an excellent view of a trussed up lower body but be teasingly denied a look at the face, or the feet, to go with it.
The final thing our dear Sophia noticed was that something was being sprayed, a very fine mist, over her entire body. It was warm and made her skin tingle, it was actually rather pleasant.
In fact, too pleasant? Whatever it was, it was spritzing her every few seconds with this warm misty spray and it was making her tingle like hell. It smelt divine too, like the most heavenly, sexual scent she could possibly imagine. Indeed, that anyone could possibly imagine. It soaked quickly into her feet, calves, fingers, belly and everywhere else it made contact.
She squealed as a more focused spray hit her right between her legs, it was warmer and aimed deliberately at her sex and as it hit her she became acutely aware that she was uncontrollably horny.
Her insides were swimming with lust, her mind filled with the most obscene sexual depravities imaginable as her pussy began to drip with desire. Every inch of her body this loving mist touched felt electric, like the most attentive and skilled lover had been worshipping her entire body for hours but denying her any sort of release.
Another jet soaked her lips and tears formed in the corners of her eyes, her hips grinding as she instinctively looked for something, anything to press herself against. It was fast becoming unbearable, each jet between her legs felt like a hot tongue lapping at her sex but it was always pulled away after one damned teasing lick! Sophia had never been this aroused, it was actually making her sweat, moaning against her will, she had been excited before now but never this much and had she been untied she would have exploded by now, for surely the slightest stimulation down there would set her off in this state.
Except that fucking spray stop it stop it stop it!!!! As she was hit down there again, for just one second, bringing her so close but stopping just in time and leaving her impossibly horny, crying with frustration and becoming so desperate she wouldn’t care who turned up and announced they intended to fuck her.
“Hello Sophia.”
She jerked in her bonds and looked around desperately, she hadn’t heard a normal voice in what felt like forever. At least not one that wasn’t begging or promising sexual favours in return for no more tickling…
“Don’t worry petal, nobody is here to hurt you.”
“Quite the opposite, honey.” Added a second voice, both sultry, female voices.
“We are, however, here to torture you. But not in a nasty way! I see you’re enjoying our serum, yes?” Asked the first.
“You want us to get you off, honey?” Asked the second.
Sophia found herself nodding fervently yes, yes! She had never been with a woman before but right now anything was better than this pre-orgasmic agony, she hadn’t even notice the first woman mention that word “torture”.
The two started to giggle at Sophia as she nodded her head and bounced up and down as much as she was able. “Oh bless her, pretty petal, she looks like she’s going to burst.”
“Then let’s do it, I can’t stand just watching anymore I need to touch her,” the second hissed impatiently.
“Just remember what they said, OK? Don’t break the rules, you do not want to be punished here trust me!”
“Trust you…? What do you mean?”
“Not now, yeah?”
“Ha I am so getting that out of you later, honey--”
Sophia’s squealing interrupted them, she was outrageously horny by now, that last jet was almost the final straw as far as her mind was concerned. She found herself saying “please”, muffled through her gag, over and over again, to the room, to anyone that might be listening and, you know, might want to get her off and quickly.
“Bless her.”
“OK, Sophia is it? Now listen honey, we intend to fuck you utterly senseless just a little while later--”
“MMMMMMNNNNNNNWWWWWWWWPLLLLLZZZZZZZZZZZ” tears streamed down her face, she couldn’t take a “little while” more of this.
“--but first, I hear you have the most hellish ticklish and beautiful feet! Your nails ready honey?” She asked her friend.
“Hell, fucking, yes!” was the reply, as she drummed her nails against the metal headboard perilously close to Sophia’s upturned soles. Close enough for Sophia to feel that vibration…
“Then what are we waiting for!?” as the couple joined hands, their spare hands descended upon Sophia’s soles just as another jet of agonising pleasure struck right between her lips once more, and Sophia descended into a place where nothing existed besides her burning, throbbing sex and manicured nails sliding effortlessly over her helpless, mindbendingly ticklish soles.
The room had no way of telling time, there were no windows and at first this had disturbed poor Sophia but she had learned fairly quickly, while hogtied, while suspended upside down by her ankles and indeed while locked inside a box that there were far worse things in life than being unsure of the time. It had upset her body clock though, no sunlight, no darkness, just the constant warm glow of dimmed, orange lighting. What sleep she managed was never restful and her waking moments were a dark rollercoaster of emotion, the despair she had fought hard against for so long winning the battle with each minute that ticked silently by.
She ate nothing during her first three days in captivity, her appetite killed by her minds most pressing need, the instinct to fight for her very survival. There was never any genuine threat to her life, no woman is ticklish when she is dead after all, but such an unnatural environment and such painful, bizarre experiences being forced upon her being had somehow convinced her subconscious that her chances of survival were dependent upon her escape from this hell she was slowly becoming forced to call home. These instincts had calmed somewhat, she could never be sure that her life wasn’t in danger, but it was starting to dawn on Sophia that her life was, if anything, to go on for as long as possible. After some time, having fully realised the futility of her situation, she had accepted her food. “Food”... Three smoothies per day, an entirely liquid diet which was surprisingly filling. She had no idea of the ingredients.
Her room was comfortable enough, new linen on the bed every day. A dresser with four drawers each packed with individually wrapped knickers and bras and pairs of ankle socks, all black. Hundreds of them, a new set of each to be worn every day and at the end of each day used items were to be left in the hamper by the door. All had been explained on a neatly folded brochure she had noticed during her first night, but not read until several days later.
Very clean. OCD clean in fact, not a speck of dust to be found, even life on a microbial level would have been difficult to find some days, her room being sterilised by the thus far anonymous masked person extremely frequently while she was held in a straitjacket and strapped tightly inside a wardrobe just a little taller than she, her back to the interior wall, fur-lined leather belts across her ankles, knees, hips and a hood pulled over her head with only two small holes at her nose. A tight, claustrophobic fit which she was gradually becoming used to.
The headphones she wore, in addition to her extensive bondage, during cleaning sessions however… Well, Sophia was most certainly not getting used to them. When not playing her the sounds of women clearly being tickled far, far past the point of fun, there was silence. Deafening silence, causing her ears to ring. Her world during cleaning time became immobility, blindness and deafness. An utter absence of any type of sense, it was due to this that she felt her mind had finally snapped the first time she felt the plasticine-like floor, into which her feet sank around a centimetre or so, of her nightmarish wardrobe being to vibrate.
Ever so softly… Barely noticeable at first. Slowly picking up intensity, the vibrations coursing through the sides of her feet, through the back of her heels and invading her toes. Penetrating deep into her foot from every angle, her entire sole alive with the sensation of… Of… Hell she would later think to herself.
Her feet had been ticklish for as long as she could remember, never during her years had she ever realised just how badly certain types of people lusted after her from the ankles down. She had barely paid her feet any attention her whole life, had never respected her two heavenly gifts and now her life was almost revolving around the fact that… She had feet. It was ridiculous to her. She had been fearful of rape during her abduction and subsequent captivity but her captor’s mind seemed constantly preoccupied with… Her feet.
Feet she would now gladly trade for anything if it meant she could just rest, just stop laughing, stop heaving with laughter, get out of the damned jacket and closet and just run free.
The floor moulded perfectly to her feet, beautifully encasing her heels, arches and the balls of her feet along with each toe and the spaces in between them. It heated up and it pulsated, sending its vibrations deep into Sophia’s feet as she strained against her bonds and soaked her hood with tears of frustration and hopelessness. The headphones came to life once more, a desperate wail “PLEASE PLEASE I WON’T DO IT AG-” cut off by hysterical screeching and demented cackling.
Throwing her smoothie against the door… That had earned Sophia her first punishment. She couldn’t escape, couldn’t fight anybody or scream at anybody for there was never anyone there during her waking hours, the “food” just appeared while she slept, the cleaning took place after she’d been restrained while unconscious from the gas pumped into her room via vents beneath her bed. There was nobody to rage at about her situation, but she could throw things. She threw her pillows and bedding across the room but nothing was as satisfying as watching her smoothie smash against the door and explode across the walls.
Unfortunately, she had screamed for forgiveness around her gag roughly 35 minutes into her punishment. Forced into a strict hogtie naked, oiled hands worked over her ribs, her hips and thighs as she was pinned down on her side… A while pinned down on her left side, a while on the right, being allowed to squirm around at times with wide, desperate eyes seeking some type of connection with her assailant before two hands roughly grabbed her soft sides once more and squeezed the laughter out of her, prodding and massaging the hyper ticklish muscles and joints until her face turned red and she had no air left inside of her. These punishments, she learned, ended the same way every time. When her bladder was empty, she would be untied.
It almost seemed pointless, the punishments. They were no different from her ordinary day to day treatment anyway. She dreaded the days when through the large letter box opening on her door were posted a new pair of denim hotpants, for these were the days when her legs were going to be the area of focus. Her instructions, posted with the clothing, required her to carefully shave her legs and wear nothing bar the hotpants.
Her legs silky smooth and feeling like jelly beneath her, Sophia would await her captor’s attention dressed in nothing but the denim shorts. A short while later, she would be suspended from the ceiling by her ankles and wrists, flailing her body from side to side with sweat and saliva dripping from her face as her thighs were kneaded and her knees pinched and grabbed, begging for mercy despite her deep desire to hurl nothing but verbal abuse towards this evil being. But she couldn’t stop it, the hands followed her every move expertly and seemed glued to her, they couldn’t be stopped, not shaken off, absolutely no escape. They manipulated her legs, played them like instruments and were rewarded with the glorious sounds of desperate, tickled-insane woman.
She was always left with a deep humiliation after each and every session, a grown woman reduced to tears and pleading from something as childish as tickling. She knew full well that this was in no way “childish” tickling, no way at all. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling of shame at being so easily tormented by something that used to make up part of many random, fun games she played as a young child.
Back inside the wardrobe, Sophia had been weeping for some time. The vibrations coursing through her feet had reached their maximum speed and were now moving in waves from heel to toe and back again. The headphones audio was still with the same anonymous woman, clearly coming toward the end of her own session judging by the weakened sound of her laughter and her own pitiful weeping.
It stopped.
The door to her wardrobe opened up, her headphones removed and the hood taken off revealing an exhausted and sweaty Sophia, her head hanging forward as she fought for air, oblivious to all else including the click but not the hum of the floor springing back to life, she threw her head back and wailed with despair as the ticklish waves flowed through her feet once more, even more rapidly than before. She tried her hardest to move, to bounce up and down, to even lift just once foot but it was hopeless. The masked being grabbed Sophia’s hair and held it back to force Sophia to face the ceiling of the wardrobe, then looked down at those beautiful feet cringing and shivering in their torment and watched the sinews in Sophia’s neck straining as the laughter flowed from her throat in an unstoppable stream and her face twisted and contorted into hideous, forced expressions of hilarity.
She squealed for help, she shouted obscenities as her feet sank ever deeper into the hellish floor until she stood ankle deep in the strange substance, “ANYTHING YOU WANT! ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! ANYTHI-” suddenly she was seized, paralysed with laughter as new vibrations assaulted her toes, specifically her toes, almost as if inside them. Hitting every square nanometre of her toes. Eyes wide open, teeth gritted and with pee soaked thighs, she finally lost her battle with unconsciousness.
Sophia awoke several hours later, exquisitely pampered and cleaned down beautifully. The first thing she noticed was her knees, they were pulled back almost as far as her shoulders with her ankles tied up to either side of the bed’s headboard and her wrists tied off somewhere toward the centre of the main bed frame… Her arms resting snug against the back of her thighs. Once more, her new friends immobility and dread had come to visit.
She then noticed the room was pitch black, almost. One very small lamp had been connected to the headboard with its stem extended over her body and angled toward her groin. The yellow light was fairly dim and brightly illuminated her exposed ass and pussy, but very little else. From the opposite side of the room, one would have an excellent view of a trussed up lower body but be teasingly denied a look at the face, or the feet, to go with it.
The final thing our dear Sophia noticed was that something was being sprayed, a very fine mist, over her entire body. It was warm and made her skin tingle, it was actually rather pleasant.
In fact, too pleasant? Whatever it was, it was spritzing her every few seconds with this warm misty spray and it was making her tingle like hell. It smelt divine too, like the most heavenly, sexual scent she could possibly imagine. Indeed, that anyone could possibly imagine. It soaked quickly into her feet, calves, fingers, belly and everywhere else it made contact.
She squealed as a more focused spray hit her right between her legs, it was warmer and aimed deliberately at her sex and as it hit her she became acutely aware that she was uncontrollably horny.
Her insides were swimming with lust, her mind filled with the most obscene sexual depravities imaginable as her pussy began to drip with desire. Every inch of her body this loving mist touched felt electric, like the most attentive and skilled lover had been worshipping her entire body for hours but denying her any sort of release.
Another jet soaked her lips and tears formed in the corners of her eyes, her hips grinding as she instinctively looked for something, anything to press herself against. It was fast becoming unbearable, each jet between her legs felt like a hot tongue lapping at her sex but it was always pulled away after one damned teasing lick! Sophia had never been this aroused, it was actually making her sweat, moaning against her will, she had been excited before now but never this much and had she been untied she would have exploded by now, for surely the slightest stimulation down there would set her off in this state.
Except that fucking spray stop it stop it stop it!!!! As she was hit down there again, for just one second, bringing her so close but stopping just in time and leaving her impossibly horny, crying with frustration and becoming so desperate she wouldn’t care who turned up and announced they intended to fuck her.
“Hello Sophia.”
She jerked in her bonds and looked around desperately, she hadn’t heard a normal voice in what felt like forever. At least not one that wasn’t begging or promising sexual favours in return for no more tickling…
“Don’t worry petal, nobody is here to hurt you.”
“Quite the opposite, honey.” Added a second voice, both sultry, female voices.
“We are, however, here to torture you. But not in a nasty way! I see you’re enjoying our serum, yes?” Asked the first.
“You want us to get you off, honey?” Asked the second.
Sophia found herself nodding fervently yes, yes! She had never been with a woman before but right now anything was better than this pre-orgasmic agony, she hadn’t even notice the first woman mention that word “torture”.
The two started to giggle at Sophia as she nodded her head and bounced up and down as much as she was able. “Oh bless her, pretty petal, she looks like she’s going to burst.”
“Then let’s do it, I can’t stand just watching anymore I need to touch her,” the second hissed impatiently.
“Just remember what they said, OK? Don’t break the rules, you do not want to be punished here trust me!”
“Trust you…? What do you mean?”
“Not now, yeah?”
“Ha I am so getting that out of you later, honey--”
Sophia’s squealing interrupted them, she was outrageously horny by now, that last jet was almost the final straw as far as her mind was concerned. She found herself saying “please”, muffled through her gag, over and over again, to the room, to anyone that might be listening and, you know, might want to get her off and quickly.
“Bless her.”
“OK, Sophia is it? Now listen honey, we intend to fuck you utterly senseless just a little while later--”
“MMMMMMNNNNNNNWWWWWWWWPLLLLLZZZZZZZZZZZ” tears streamed down her face, she couldn’t take a “little while” more of this.
“--but first, I hear you have the most hellish ticklish and beautiful feet! Your nails ready honey?” She asked her friend.
“Hell, fucking, yes!” was the reply, as she drummed her nails against the metal headboard perilously close to Sophia’s upturned soles. Close enough for Sophia to feel that vibration…
“Then what are we waiting for!?” as the couple joined hands, their spare hands descended upon Sophia’s soles just as another jet of agonising pleasure struck right between her lips once more, and Sophia descended into a place where nothing existed besides her burning, throbbing sex and manicured nails sliding effortlessly over her helpless, mindbendingly ticklish soles.
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