IInto the tickle net P1 m/f
The work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is, well…. on purpose, but none of this happened AFAIK. Illustrated by a Deviant Artist IMMORTALTOM from https://immortaltom.deviantart.com/
The web page opened rather quickly. At once he realised that it wasn’t another false trail. On the screen there was a face of a quite attractive dark haired woman with beautiful, blue eyes, a bit too wide mouth and a few cute freckles - the face of missing Dominica Stepper, aged 27. There were a few different pictures of her. In the middle one there was her naked bust. The frame depicted her naked breasts, raised arms and a laughing face.
The reason of her laughter were two male hands tickling her from behind under naked, stretched underarms. Other pictures showed: close up of bound feet tickled by a hairbrush, Dominica in stocks tickle over the ribs by a masked man and her stretched blindfolded on the rack and tickled under soles by the same man. A short note invited to enter further and tickle the “model” by yourself.
Clicking “Enter” brought the policeman to the page with a background containing more photos of the ticklish victim and the info, that the depicted woman is currently bound to the rack and her ticklish spots are stimulated by remote controlled bristles. For 15 USD you could buy a control of the bristles for ten minutes and for 5 USD half an hour of live stream. Lieutenant reached for a police pre-paid phone and sent the sms activating the second option.
He entered the received code and after a few seconds a naked body of the missing girl appeared on the screen and the headphones transmitted her high-pitched, desperate laughter and pleas for mercy and switching the bristles off.
The camera was filming from above and Novitzki could clearly see that the girl’s reactions are caused by two brushed scrubbing her immobilized, naked soles, two rotating under her armpits and a bigger one brushing her stomach. The victim was wriggling and trying desperately to break the bonds, but she stood no chance - they were really strong.
Novitzki, to his utter astonishment, felt the tightness in his pants. He, quite unprofessional, got turned on. The victim was attractive, naked, her boobs jiggled nicely, she looked cute laughing and her laughter was sweet and girlish. Besides, he liked tickling women and did it to all his girlfriends and now to his wife.
He checked other camera options - upperbody, lowerbody and close up to the feet with a vagina visible in the background. Then he switched back to the main view, searching for clues that would help to determine the whereabouts of the kidnapped woman.
Suddenly he felt a tap on the shoulder. Removing the headphones he look behind only to find his co-workers gathered at the door.
- What, Jonny, looking at some porn? - asked Pete, his second-in-command with a teasing grin.
Lieutenant explained the situation.
- Poor thing! - sighed Jolene, the petite brunette and the only woman in the squad. - She’s tickled to death!
Then she yelped, because someone spider tickled her ribs from behind. Her colleagues usually kept her hands to themselves, but tickling was their hobby. During the very first day in the office they checked her sensitivity and from then they sneaked the tickle from time to time. Jolene didn’t like it but thought it wasn’t such a big deal to launch an official complaint.
- Easy there, we have a situation here! - the boss calmed them - We have a case of kidnapping and tortures here. Don’t be fooled by her wide grin. She isn’t having a good time, but is tortured. I send the email to IT guys and for now I am opened for any suggestions.
- Maybe cut off the page? - proposed someone.
- Too risky. It could only block the bristles in the last position. She still would be tickled, but offline.
- So maybe hack the site. Enter as a customer, cut the others and then simply not tickle her.
- Better, but wouldn’t it alarm the villain?
- So a little modification. We hack the site and then tickle the victim, but much lighter. Then the IT guys see what they can come up with.
Hacking the page took 20 minutes. All that time Novitzki was monitoring Dominika, listening on headphones in case she would say anything that could help with the investigation. He was telling himself that his interest is only a professional one, but a rock hard erection proved otherwise. He listened to the hysterical laughter and frantic pleads not to gather information, but for sheer pleasure. During this time five internauts logged in. Between the sessions Dominica was given one minute break, then she had to “go back to work”. Finally Lieutenant received an access code, entered it and soon he was in a control panel. The minute given to the victim to rest gave the customer an opportunity to learn all the options. There vere several levels of precision. You could choose the tickled area, level of intensity, choose the tools or even define the exact pattern for every tool.
With pounding heart he chose “left foot” and “bristle” and hit enter.
The woman must have heard the engines moving the bristle into place, because she raised her head trying to see what was in store for her. She started whining “No, no please!” and again tried to break her ties. But a second the bristle made the connection with her helpless sole she squealed in that high-pitched, girlish laughter of her. He enjoyed it for a minute or so, then remembered he has to find something easier for her to withstand. For about five minutes he experimented with various tools, sometimes “accidentally” turning on the devices Dominica seemed to be very sensitive of. Finally he settled for feathers sliding through ribs and stomach which made her only giggle and wiggle slightly, so she could, relatively speaking, rest. From time to time, “to avoid alarming the kidnapper” he switched to something stronger and for a minute or two sent the woman into hysterics.
Meanwhile there was an investigation going on around him. Police tried to determine the kidnapper identity as well as the place where the victim was held. The webcams route was traced. The closest router showed the vicinity of the abandoned factory in a factory district. Immediately the strike force went that way. Twenty minutes later, just when Lieutenant applied to Dominica her worst fear - paint brushes under arms - the connection was broken.
Five teams of four police officers entered the factory and thirty policemen more tried to secure the perimeter. The action was commanded by Peter. He ordered do spread in pairs around the building, but keep an eye on at least one more pair. Soon Jolene, who volunteered for the action, hand signed “attention” .
- I head something, like woman laughter! There, the second floor!
- We go, but quietly!
Teams came together and in single file walked upstairs, covering each other. Now everyone heard this - a high pitched, feminine, hysterical laughter and pleading from the corridor on the right. They moved closer, still in a secure mode. Soon they could recognise the words “No,please, turn it off!” barely recognisable through gales of laughter. Pete entered as the first one, kicking in the door. After him rushed the rest of the team… only to find an empty room and a a cd player emitting ticklish, female laughter. With the corner of an eye Peter saw the motion detectors, some wires, a package…
- Everybody down! - he screamed. But the explosion came too fast.
For about an hour Dominika’s tormentor decided, for unknown reasons, to slow the pace. For most of the time he only dragged feathers across her upperbody, which was annoying, but bearable. But from time to time he switched to something more torturous. Yet again the feathers withdrew and she saw paint brushes creeping toward her armpits. Helplessly she waited for the touch of stiff bristles. But only moments after they forced the new waves of mirth out of her they stopped and crawled back to their nests. After a while light went off. In the utter darkness she heard someone entering the room. She recognised the footsteps of her captor, whom she called “Mr Tickle”. She had to wear some night vision device, because his movements were very sure. She sensed that he leaned over her and she had to laugh again, tickled under her arms. But these time the tickling lasted only for a while.
He stopped, blindfolded her and put the ball gag in her mouth. Then she felt her torture rack transforming into the stretcher, silent motors moving her hands from above her head and pressing them to her sides. She was covered by a blanket and then the stretcher was pushed somewhere, bumping slightly at the uneven floor.
She heard the kidnapper voice, deformed by some electronic device.
- Police has arrived, he have to go!
Hearing his she felt a sudden surge of hope. He must have sensed this, because he stopped the stretcher.
- Don’t worry! We won’t part so soon! - he mocked. As if to prove that he pulled aside the blanket covering her feet. Waiting for the inevitable she bit her teeth around the gag and soon her body was rocked by spasms of unwanted, desperate laughter.
In the commotion caused by the blast no one payed attention to the ambulance driving from the abandoned factory just next block. Everybody was busy, securing the area, helping the victims, searching for evidence and for possible other booby traps.
The whole team met at Lieutenant’s office two hours later.
- So, what was it? - asked Novitzki.
- Red paint and itching powder - answered Pete - the one used for pranks. It itches, indeed. I feel like flogged with nettles.
- So a major fuc... , disaster! - said the Lieutenant.
- Seems so, but if the forensic guys dig through his lair, then maybe we’d have something...
- OK. So that’s not the only case in the city. What new about this bank robbery…
to be continued
The work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is, well…. on purpose, but none of this happened AFAIK. Illustrated by a Deviant Artist IMMORTALTOM from https://immortaltom.deviantart.com/
The web page opened rather quickly. At once he realised that it wasn’t another false trail. On the screen there was a face of a quite attractive dark haired woman with beautiful, blue eyes, a bit too wide mouth and a few cute freckles - the face of missing Dominica Stepper, aged 27. There were a few different pictures of her. In the middle one there was her naked bust. The frame depicted her naked breasts, raised arms and a laughing face.
The reason of her laughter were two male hands tickling her from behind under naked, stretched underarms. Other pictures showed: close up of bound feet tickled by a hairbrush, Dominica in stocks tickle over the ribs by a masked man and her stretched blindfolded on the rack and tickled under soles by the same man. A short note invited to enter further and tickle the “model” by yourself.
Clicking “Enter” brought the policeman to the page with a background containing more photos of the ticklish victim and the info, that the depicted woman is currently bound to the rack and her ticklish spots are stimulated by remote controlled bristles. For 15 USD you could buy a control of the bristles for ten minutes and for 5 USD half an hour of live stream. Lieutenant reached for a police pre-paid phone and sent the sms activating the second option.
He entered the received code and after a few seconds a naked body of the missing girl appeared on the screen and the headphones transmitted her high-pitched, desperate laughter and pleas for mercy and switching the bristles off.
The camera was filming from above and Novitzki could clearly see that the girl’s reactions are caused by two brushed scrubbing her immobilized, naked soles, two rotating under her armpits and a bigger one brushing her stomach. The victim was wriggling and trying desperately to break the bonds, but she stood no chance - they were really strong.
Novitzki, to his utter astonishment, felt the tightness in his pants. He, quite unprofessional, got turned on. The victim was attractive, naked, her boobs jiggled nicely, she looked cute laughing and her laughter was sweet and girlish. Besides, he liked tickling women and did it to all his girlfriends and now to his wife.
He checked other camera options - upperbody, lowerbody and close up to the feet with a vagina visible in the background. Then he switched back to the main view, searching for clues that would help to determine the whereabouts of the kidnapped woman.
Suddenly he felt a tap on the shoulder. Removing the headphones he look behind only to find his co-workers gathered at the door.
- What, Jonny, looking at some porn? - asked Pete, his second-in-command with a teasing grin.
Lieutenant explained the situation.
- Poor thing! - sighed Jolene, the petite brunette and the only woman in the squad. - She’s tickled to death!
Then she yelped, because someone spider tickled her ribs from behind. Her colleagues usually kept her hands to themselves, but tickling was their hobby. During the very first day in the office they checked her sensitivity and from then they sneaked the tickle from time to time. Jolene didn’t like it but thought it wasn’t such a big deal to launch an official complaint.
- Easy there, we have a situation here! - the boss calmed them - We have a case of kidnapping and tortures here. Don’t be fooled by her wide grin. She isn’t having a good time, but is tortured. I send the email to IT guys and for now I am opened for any suggestions.
- Maybe cut off the page? - proposed someone.
- Too risky. It could only block the bristles in the last position. She still would be tickled, but offline.
- So maybe hack the site. Enter as a customer, cut the others and then simply not tickle her.
- Better, but wouldn’t it alarm the villain?
- So a little modification. We hack the site and then tickle the victim, but much lighter. Then the IT guys see what they can come up with.
Hacking the page took 20 minutes. All that time Novitzki was monitoring Dominika, listening on headphones in case she would say anything that could help with the investigation. He was telling himself that his interest is only a professional one, but a rock hard erection proved otherwise. He listened to the hysterical laughter and frantic pleads not to gather information, but for sheer pleasure. During this time five internauts logged in. Between the sessions Dominica was given one minute break, then she had to “go back to work”. Finally Lieutenant received an access code, entered it and soon he was in a control panel. The minute given to the victim to rest gave the customer an opportunity to learn all the options. There vere several levels of precision. You could choose the tickled area, level of intensity, choose the tools or even define the exact pattern for every tool.
With pounding heart he chose “left foot” and “bristle” and hit enter.
The woman must have heard the engines moving the bristle into place, because she raised her head trying to see what was in store for her. She started whining “No, no please!” and again tried to break her ties. But a second the bristle made the connection with her helpless sole she squealed in that high-pitched, girlish laughter of her. He enjoyed it for a minute or so, then remembered he has to find something easier for her to withstand. For about five minutes he experimented with various tools, sometimes “accidentally” turning on the devices Dominica seemed to be very sensitive of. Finally he settled for feathers sliding through ribs and stomach which made her only giggle and wiggle slightly, so she could, relatively speaking, rest. From time to time, “to avoid alarming the kidnapper” he switched to something stronger and for a minute or two sent the woman into hysterics.
Meanwhile there was an investigation going on around him. Police tried to determine the kidnapper identity as well as the place where the victim was held. The webcams route was traced. The closest router showed the vicinity of the abandoned factory in a factory district. Immediately the strike force went that way. Twenty minutes later, just when Lieutenant applied to Dominica her worst fear - paint brushes under arms - the connection was broken.
Five teams of four police officers entered the factory and thirty policemen more tried to secure the perimeter. The action was commanded by Peter. He ordered do spread in pairs around the building, but keep an eye on at least one more pair. Soon Jolene, who volunteered for the action, hand signed “attention” .
- I head something, like woman laughter! There, the second floor!
- We go, but quietly!
Teams came together and in single file walked upstairs, covering each other. Now everyone heard this - a high pitched, feminine, hysterical laughter and pleading from the corridor on the right. They moved closer, still in a secure mode. Soon they could recognise the words “No,please, turn it off!” barely recognisable through gales of laughter. Pete entered as the first one, kicking in the door. After him rushed the rest of the team… only to find an empty room and a a cd player emitting ticklish, female laughter. With the corner of an eye Peter saw the motion detectors, some wires, a package…
- Everybody down! - he screamed. But the explosion came too fast.
For about an hour Dominika’s tormentor decided, for unknown reasons, to slow the pace. For most of the time he only dragged feathers across her upperbody, which was annoying, but bearable. But from time to time he switched to something more torturous. Yet again the feathers withdrew and she saw paint brushes creeping toward her armpits. Helplessly she waited for the touch of stiff bristles. But only moments after they forced the new waves of mirth out of her they stopped and crawled back to their nests. After a while light went off. In the utter darkness she heard someone entering the room. She recognised the footsteps of her captor, whom she called “Mr Tickle”. She had to wear some night vision device, because his movements were very sure. She sensed that he leaned over her and she had to laugh again, tickled under her arms. But these time the tickling lasted only for a while.
He stopped, blindfolded her and put the ball gag in her mouth. Then she felt her torture rack transforming into the stretcher, silent motors moving her hands from above her head and pressing them to her sides. She was covered by a blanket and then the stretcher was pushed somewhere, bumping slightly at the uneven floor.
She heard the kidnapper voice, deformed by some electronic device.
- Police has arrived, he have to go!
Hearing his she felt a sudden surge of hope. He must have sensed this, because he stopped the stretcher.
- Don’t worry! We won’t part so soon! - he mocked. As if to prove that he pulled aside the blanket covering her feet. Waiting for the inevitable she bit her teeth around the gag and soon her body was rocked by spasms of unwanted, desperate laughter.
In the commotion caused by the blast no one payed attention to the ambulance driving from the abandoned factory just next block. Everybody was busy, securing the area, helping the victims, searching for evidence and for possible other booby traps.
The whole team met at Lieutenant’s office two hours later.
- So, what was it? - asked Novitzki.
- Red paint and itching powder - answered Pete - the one used for pranks. It itches, indeed. I feel like flogged with nettles.
- So a major fuc... , disaster! - said the Lieutenant.
- Seems so, but if the forensic guys dig through his lair, then maybe we’d have something...
- OK. So that’s not the only case in the city. What new about this bank robbery…
to be continued
DD
