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Into the ticke net p. 2 m/f

paszkowt

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Into the tickle net p. 2 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 Dravuo-r from https://dravuo-r.deviantart.com/
First part here:
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?291139-Into-the-tickle-net-m-f

The investigation, despite the initial failure, was going on. The villain, despite being careful, didn’t manage to remove all the tracks and evidence from his hideout. Police found the underground tunnel he used for the evacuation, the parking spot for a van. They also had at their disposal the whole hideout, both the living space and the torture chamber. There ware some biological traces, parts of the equipment, which had to be achieved somewhere and therefore traceable, some fibres, dust and soil which were carried from some place that maybe could be identified etc. A lot of things could be deduced by a very design of the hideout. The victim was imprisoned by a chain shackled around the ankle, within the reach of a portable toilet and the tray with food and water. That much could be deduced by the stains on the floor. It meant that the kidnapper left the woman alone for a long time, therefore he had to leave the hideout for at least a few hours, maybe going to work. Also one of city CCTV cameras captured nearby an ambulance that couldn't be assigned to any of the 112 calls. The type could be matched to the marks of the tires found in the hideout. The trace of the ambulance was heading to one of the forest complexes around the city. The investigators also established, that a van that could be transformed into the ambulance was stolen two days ago, so they combined the two investigations.

The parallel investigation was conducted by IT department. They tried to establish the place, from where the domain was created and from where the administrator was logging on. Also the mail received by Novitzki was examined. There was a chance that it was sent by a kidnapper, who wanted to play a game with the police.

The third part of the investigation, the first one chronologically, was the examining of the kidnapping itself. Dominica was an amateur belly dancer and a week ago she didn’t return from her training. Police was looking for some witnesses and also checked the woman’s background, friends etc. Now the investigators knew the height and the body shape of the kidnapper - he presented them on the tickle torture “advert” photos, so they could narrow the search. It wasn’t necessary someone who knew the victim, but it was worth to check it. It was taken for granted that the villain knew that she was ticklish. Too many preparations and resources would be wasted if the victim turned out not to be sensitive. So he had to know, or at least, stalk her.

Everything was coordinated by Novitzki. In his mind he still could see Dominica stretched helplessly on the rack and tickle tortured. He remembered her body, the look of enticing helplessness in her eyes and her desperate laughter when he had turned on something she was particularly sensitive. He imagined what was happening to her now. Maybe just now the masked kidnapper leans over her and scratches her defenseless armpits or racks her heels with a brush and she laughs, unable to stop the forced mirth. Sometimes in those dreams there was Novitzki instead of a masked kidnapper...

He returning home feeling horny. It was the middle of the summer, seeing girls in summer dresses didn’t help at all. Entering the staircase he encountered a couple hugging each other - a pretty girl laughing from some joke of her boyfriend.

Ivonne, his wife opened the door, also wearing the short, summer flower patterned dress. She wasn’t a great beauty, but she didn’t have to be ashamed of her looks and ther body. He hugged her, kissed and ostensibly leered down her dress, earning a playful snap. When she turned around to enter the kitchen he grabbed her ribs and tickled, so she jumped and shrieked.
- Johnny, stop it! I have to prepare dinner!

Novitzky sat in his chair and looked at his bustling wife. Busy with preparations she twirled, bent and squatted, showing more and more flesh. When she leaned over a drawer and accidentally flashed her panties he couldn’t stand it anymore. He rushed from his place like a football player, grabbed his wife, put her around his shoulder and headed for the bedroom, despite shrieks, kicking legs and, half hearted, protests. He threw her on the bed, pinned her down and before she realized she was in troubles, started tying her wrists to the bedpost with a bathrobe belt. Bondage was allowed in their marital sex life, so Ivonne wasn’t alarmed. Till she felt his fingers on her ribs. She gigged, pulled her bonds and protested “johnny, don’t you dare!” But after everything he saw today the Lieutenant wasn’t able to stop and a second later the giggles turned into a full hearted laughter when his hands were speeding up and down her vulnerable sides.

The tickling itself wasn’t a surprise for her. Her husband liked to tease her that way from time to time. She didn’t like the particular feeling, but treated it as a part of bonding and a foreplay. But they had never combined bondage and tickling, she probably wouldn’t agree to that, anyway. She was never tickled so intense, too. But she became truly desperate when the attack moved from her sides under her armpits. She howled with laughter so hard, that the whole room resonated. The feeling of helplessness caused by the bondage heightened the sensation, making it impossible to bear. Bot her johnny went berserk. He tickled her like crazy, barely allowing her to breathe. Then he kissed her passionately, then not breaking the kiss, he started tickling her underarms again, making her laugh into his mouth. He peeled her breasts out of the bra and started to pet them. She submitted to this with relief and growing arousal, only to have to laugh again, when his stubbled chin started scratching her cleavage.
He stopped and moved down. She felt his hand moving toward her panties. It was again the well known pattern. She raised her hips, allowing him to remove her underwear. And she was surprised again, because instead of removing it completely he just used it to tie her ankles together and started tickling her feet. He was deaf for all threats and pleads, running his fingers across her ticklish soles without any break.

She was “saved” by the lack of underwear. Writhing under the tickle torture she involuntary provided her husband a lot of enticing views from under her dress. Feeling extremely aroused from the tickling Lieutenant couldn’t ignore the compelling “flashes”. He let the feet go, untied her ankles, untangled from his own trousers and boxers, put his wife’s legs on his arms and jumped enthusiastically into the action.

His wife hadn’t the cause to complain about his temper, but this went beyond her expectations. She barely felt that she was again tickled over hips and under feet. Yes, she giggled and writhed, but everything was dominated by different kind of feelings, ended by a massive, both sided coming. She was resting, pleasantly exhausted, when she saw her husband’s hands again moving toward her armpits. She just managed to shriek “Johnny, no!” and she had to laugh again. Usually after orgasm she was oversensitive, which turned out to be a huge disadvantage. She laughed even harder, than before. She felt, she was going to suffocate, but she could neither stop laughing, not tell her husband.

Luckily for her he saw what was going on. He stopped, untied her, but wasn’t finished for today. He started “normal” petting which she returned and soon they were making love for the second time, slower but also passionately. It was really lucky for her husband that she didn’t have a slightest idea that sometimes instead of her body John imagined the different one, with smaller breasts and wider hips and her face was replaced in his mind by Dominica’s face twisted in desperate laughter.

For the first time Dominica was waiting for her kidnapper return not with fear, but with anxiety. Before his coming meant ruthless tickling for many hours well into the night. But now she had a plan. If it worked she would have to suffer only a few more minutes, that would be free.
At last he walked in, as usual masked and as usual limping slightly. Quickly she moved into a prearranged pose designed to distract him and turn him on. Today she was wearing a pleated, schoolgirl type skirt and nude nylons, so the chances were high. He loved her legs in pantyhose and despite seeing her everyday naked, he loved looking up her skirt like a little boy.

It seemed the plan worked. His eyes went wide and were like glued to her legs and her butt in thongs, visible under the skirt. When he moved closer to unchain her he made the last move - pushed him away with her free feet.
He took the bait. With a yelp “You’ll regret this!” he grabbed her feet, turned his back to her, put her ankle under his arm and started tickling her captured sole. Of course she could to nothing not to laugh and writhe, but that was the part of the plan. He waited a while, till tormenting her defenseless feet captured his whole attention. Then he started to collect the free part of the chain and form it into a noose. She waited for a good moment and with a swift, desperate move she threw the thin links around his throat tightening the coils in an attempt to choke him.

She had bad luck. Laughter and involuntary twitching caused by tickling made her slower and imprecise. In the last moment her tormentor saw what’s going on. He didn’t have the time to dodge but put one hand to his face, so the noose tightened not only on his neck, cutting off the flow of blood to the brain, but also on his raised, protecting the larynx, hand. The vicious struggle begun. Dominika wrapped her legs around his torso, gaining the leverage and desperately pulling the chain, trying to choke the opponent. But he, gradually, started to gain the advantage. After a while he reached with his free hand towards her ribs and started tickling her sides. Involuntary she pulled her elbow down, protecting her ribs but loosening the noose. Now it was a matter of time and greater physical strength. Tickled over thighs and under the back of the knees she loosened the grip of her legs, which allowed him to turn sideways and attack her vulnerable spots. She laughed and writhed, losing strength and when his hand sneaked under her armpit she shrieked and let the chain go, trying to pry his fingers away. He used that to throw the noose off him and release the other hand. Now it was sure she lost the struggle. In a few moment she was pinned to the ground, tied by the very chain she tried to use to get free and laughed, tickled by the victorious kidnapper.

Tickling lasted a quarter or so. After them exausted and resigned Dominika allowed herself to be dragged to the torture rack. She didn’t protest when she was bound with hands over her head, unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her armpits, stomach and ribs, strapped her across the upper body and thighs, locked her feet in small stocks and bound her big toes with small loops of string.

The apathy was ended when the kidnapper grabbed a hairbrush and started vigorously scrub her left sole. Plastic bristles ended by small balls moved across the nude nylon causing Dominica spasm of high pitched, melodic laughter. She writhed in her bond, as much as they allowed it, laughing, squealing and begging for mercy. She already knew, taht pleading makes no sense, but the intensity of the tickling reduced her reactions to basic instincts.
And the instinct told her to try all the ways, physical and intellectual. So the pulling of bonds that she knew she couldn't break and so the desperate “No!” “Stop!” and “I beg you!” shrieked between the gales of hysterical laughter, although her brain knew it’s only enticing her tormentor.
The instinct told her to show defenselessness and surrender, to make a contact with an attacker, but in this case the advice was false. He was a sociopath, he didn’t want contact, didn’t show mercy. He wanted her to laugh, to prove by this forced mirth his dominance and control over her and her begging only assured him he is on the right track.

A torrent of feelings ran through her mind - anger, fear, frustration, helplessness, despair, disappointment. In the end the tickles pushed all that away. It was only laughter and thrashing in her bonds, when still more and more tools tortured her feet and then tickling moved up, to her knees, thighs, waist, sides, stomach, underarms, just to return back to soles.With the rest of the consciousness she realized that the tickling is even more ruthless than normally and that it had to be the punishment for the escape attempt. But also that thought was washed away - only that mattered were the next breath and the next maddening touch of a finger, a hairbrush or a paintbrush. She barely noticed being disrobed and reduced only to panties.

domi1.jpg

When the tickles stopped it took her a few minutes to collect herself and notice that her body wasn’t laugh and writhe anymore. Now she should be untied and led to the bathroom for a wash.But nothing like that happened. She remained bonded to the rack. The kidnapper walked to the door, switched the light off and said “Good night!” then walked away. Was that an additional punishment to let her spend the night like that? But after a while she heard the dreaded and well known buzz of electric engines. “No!” she screamed and started pulling her bonds, but of course without any result. After a few seconds she felt the first touch of an automatic paint brush under her arms and again she had to laugh hysterically lying in the darkness and not knowing if the machine was turned on for a few minutes, an hour or the whole night.
 
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