Farah’s Odyssey II: Embrace
by TamiraK
(contains m/f, f/f, non-consensual tickling, sexual content, violence)
Farah’s Odyssey I: Divide & Conquer
CHAPTER I
Farah and Vanessa watched as the new intake of prisoners, dressed in the revised institution uniform—just panties and slippers—filed into the corridor escorted by the armed officers. It was as much a show of strength as it was an induction for the new selection of inmates who had been farmed in from God-knows-where. Farah suspected the officers to be the types to sleep with their weapons when they weren’t torturing the women under their charge.
“Halt!” called the unmistakable and, to Farah, grating voice of Deputy Warden Janine Dayton. It wasn’t only that she took daily glee in tickling Farah into desperate peels of laughter and was effortlessly skilled in doing so, but also the way she smugly revelled in being self-appointed Warden McGunn’s number two. They were obviously sleeping together and she was behaving like she had one-up on everyone else via some innovative devious tactic, but the fact was that anyone could do what she was doing. She wasn’t even the most attractive woman in the building; she was just the most attractive officer. With the constant sound of gunfire and distant explosions of a civil war raging beyond the prison walls, Farah considered that any beautiful infiltrating anarchist could take her place.
“Face the cells!” said Dayton. The newbies followed her instructions. “You! Swap with this one.”
The woman in front of Farah and Vanessa’s cell exchanged places with a youthful-looking Japanese woman with black spiky hair and pretty, chiselled features.
Dayton faced a security camera. “Unlock!” With a beep, the Warden’s lock was released. Half of the guards stepped forward and swiped their key cards while the others kept the prisoners covered. The cell doors opened. “Inside!”
The newbies entered their new cells. The doors slammed and double-locked behind them. Farah and Vanessa’s new houseguest didn’t even blink.
“Enjoy your new home, ladies!” said Dayton with a smile in her voice and the guards left the corridor.
A variety of conversation sprung from the other cells while the chiselled woman said nothing. Farah and Vanessa felt like a cyborg from the future had just been let into their world and didn’t want to look at each other for fear of taking their eyes off her. Should they be preparing to fight? Farah subtly planted a back foot, ready to sling a punch if necessary when the woman glanced at the bunks.
“Two beds. Three women,” she said with an well-spoken English accent. “What’s the logic behind that?”
“They told us we need to work it out for ourselves,” said Vanessa. “Share, on rotation or whatever. They don’t care – we’re just not allowed to kill each other.”
“Rotation?”
“We take it in turns to sleep on the floor.”
“That’s uncivilised. I’m Yuri, by the way. Yuri Stone,” she said, sitting on the bottom bunk.
“Unusual name,” Vanessa remarked.
“Three quarters Japanese, one quarter English. I’m happy to take turns in top-to-tailing.”
“I don’t sleep next to anyone’s feet,” said Vanessa. “Or have anyone near mine. I’m Vanessa. This is Farah.”
“Oh, I recognise Miss Rashid. Pin-up girl to racists country-wide, yes?”
“That’s me,” said Farah, unimpressed but conceding that this was her current legacy.
“I’m not one of them, you understand,” said Yuri. “We have a mutual connection.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Cassie Jones,” said Yuri.
Farah’s blood ran cold and she instinctively clenched her fists. “What do you mean?”
“Calm down – she’s no friend of mine, but we did share a cell together in Montgomery and she wouldn’t stop going on about you and how she’d get revenge for you killing her boyfriend. You have a truly dedicated nutcase there, my girl.”
Farah’s heart thumped hard in her chest. “Did she come here with you?”
“She was in the convoy. We had bullet-proof buses with guards operating turret-guns on the roof. Five buses left; only three arrived here, and I’d say that was more to do with luck than anything else. The closest thing I’ve seen to it is zombie apocalypse movies.” She shook her head. “You Americans and your firearms fetish–”
“Did she come here?!” Farah demanded.
“She was on one of the buses that didn’t make it. It rolled into a ditch and the women on board scampered for freedom through the shattered windows. I saw her run into a cornfield. Lord knows where she is now.”
Farah thought of her mother, father, Sabrina and Mira. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Is that an easy prospect?” asked Yuri.
“No. The cells are doubly-secured by the officers’ swipe cards and the Warden’s lock, which covers all cells.” Farah then sat in silence, determined to think of an escape plan.
Vanessa filled the silence. “So why are you in a US prison?”
“Because some hick sheriff, ‘Din’t want no daw-minatrix in his tayan!’,” Yuri mimicked.
Vanessa smirked, “You’re a sex worker?”
“A dominatrix – there’s a big difference.”
Farah sensed an impending icy atmosphere but had nothing to impart on either side of the discussion and so changed the subject. “What was it like in Montgomery?”
“I don’t have extensive experience of these facilities. Run-of-the-mill, I suppose. Aren’t they all?”
Farah and Vanessa exchanged a look.
“They just told us they were ‘consolidating’. Tell me – what don’t I know? ”
“This place has gone from being a women’s prison to a dungeon for fetishist sickos,” said Vanessa.
Yuri was curious. “Explain, please.”
Vanessa’s lips tightened, obviously averse to elaborating on the topic. This intrigued Yuri further and she turned to Farah. “Have you heard of Jake Valentine?”
“The Tickling Kingpin?”
“You know?” Vanessa was taken aback.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been plugged into the underground fetish world since I dropped out of boarding school. What about him?”
“His disciples run this place,” said Farah. “They have no intention of letting us go – they just want to keep us here so they can torture us whenever they feel like it. That’s why they’ve imported attractive women prisoners from all over the south-eastern States.”
“Do they provide regular meals?”
Vanessa stood incredulous for a moment before answering, “Yes…?”
“Then, good. There are worse things in the world than seeing out this pathetic domestic squabble while having one’s tootsies tickled every now and then.”
Farah’s looked at her askance. “I take it you’re not ticklish?”
“Oh, no; I am,” said Yuri, “But I enjoy it.”
“You’ll change your tune after a few months in here!” said Vanessa.
“I’ve been tutored and tickled by the finest and most sadistic high-society dommes in England, Scotland, Amsterdam, Paris, Rome, Berlin and New York. I doubt some fanboy hobbyists will compare.”
“Have you always enjoyed it?” asked Farah.
Yuri considered a moment. “I suppose so.”
“Do you think it’s possible to learn to enjoy it?”
Vanessa’s sound of exasperation at the preposterousness of the conceit was so loud that it momentarily quieted the entire corridor. This gave Yuri an extra boost of enjoyment as she delivered her considered response: “Kinks and fetishes are often born out of traumas or things that we emphatically dislike at certain times of life only to later present themselves as turn-ons. I’ve met victims of assault who can only get turned on by being pinned down and men who were once beaten to tears but now enjoy nothing more than being spanked or caned–”
“Twisted people with mental scars–” Vanessa interrupted.
“–I’ve often wondered,” Yuri continued, ignoring her, “if that can happen subconsciously, wouldn’t it be possible to induce it consciously? I’ve never had a reason or a circumstance to put it into practice. Until now.”
A glint in her eye brought a smile to Farah’s lips.
CHAPTER II
McGunn, the man who now assumed the title of Warden, in the women’s prison that he renamed McGunn’s Penitentiary (in the secret hope that when the war was over people would refer to it simply as McGunn’s and that it would one day have a 50ft bronze statue of him outside the gates) stood alone in the main security office. His thin smile cut through his signature sickly pallor, which was exemplified further as it reflected the green glow cast by a wall of CCTV screens. His chest swelled with pride as he contemplated that he would go down in legend, not only for his professional ability to run an orderly prison during a civil war, but also in the underground world of tickle fanatics who could live seven lifetimes and not find themselves in charge of a prison full of sexy captive ticklees. Jake Valentine himself wouldn’t have believed this was possible.
The door opened and in walked Janine Dayton. “The new intake are all in their cells. Well… not all of them, obviously. Three out of five busloads–”
“An acceptable loss for what we’ve ended up with,” he replied. The glassy reflection of the screens in his eyes made him look exceptionally engrossed.
Dayton stroked a hand up his back. “Does it make you horny to have them all at your disposal, Warden?”
“Yes, it does,” he said.
Her hand travelled over his shoulder, down his chest and toward his crotch. “Do you want me to help you relieve that?”
He grabbed her wrist before it could reach its destination. “No. I want to go play.”
Dayton was hurt. Not only because McGunn would rather play than to have her on the desk, but also because he hadn’t even glanced at her. His eyes were locked on one particular screen. She followed his line of sight and saw that he was watching the feed from the camera he had repositioned to look directly into the cell he had become obsessed with: that of Farah and Vanessa. They were engrossed in conversation with Yuri.
“Hey. You could put some of that energy to good use – wanna take me upstairs to your quarters and tickle me?” she emphasised these last two words with all the seduction she could conjure and was disturbed to see an expression flicker across McGunn’s countenance, as if he’d swallowed a bug.
“Not now,” he said.
Embarrassed by the crassness of her own technique and insulted by his apparent boredom with the idea, she pulled her wrist from his grasp, went over to a coffee machine and poured herself a cup. “I put the one you asked for in there with your two favourites – the Japanese girl.”
“I can see,” he said, his voice dripping with primal lust. “That’s good. That’s very good indee–”
Dayton turned to see him slack-jawed and fixated. She rejoined him to see what was going on and was just as surprised – Inmate Rashid was lying on the bottom bunk, writhing in hysterics while she let the new woman straddle her and tickle her waist.
CHAPTER III
Lunchtimes in the penitentiary were organised with strict timings. Officers ate first and inmates were brought to the mess hall corridor by corridor and overwhelmingly outmanned in order to quell any ideas of rebellion before they could germinate. With the courtyard off-limits due to regular stray bullets, trips to the showers and mess hall were the only opportunities for most prisoners to leave their cells each day – a privilege easily removed and thus a further incentive to behave.
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri collected their meals and had only just sat down to eat when all the prisoners got to their feet and went silent – a ritual introduced to indicate a mark of respect whenever McGunn entered the vicinity. Not something he usually did at lunchtime, but something he did today.
He took a moment to enjoy the deference and spoke with the air of the most benevolent man on earth. “Sit. Eat.”
The women cautiously took their seats as he scanned the room. His eye locked on Farah.
“He’s coming here,” she whispered without moving her lips.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
The three women looked up. “Good afternoon, Warden,” they said in unison. Vanessa was on the verge of standing, but he stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. Yuri noticed her suppress a shiver of revulsion.
“You’re one of the new batch,” he said.
“I am,” Yuri replied. “You pointed me out to your deputy when I arrived.”
McGunn allowed himself a smirk at being caught out. “I did. I wanted to make sure you ended up in the right place: with these two.” He indicated Vanessa and Farah. “I hope you’re all getting on well.”
“Very well, Warden. Thank you.”
Her manner palpably conveyed how little respect she had for him and he lost all humour. “I think I’ll spend some time with you after your lunch.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she said, unintimidated.
“Officer Archer,” he said to a nearby PO, “see this one is delivered to me in the basement at 14:15. And, inmate, we don’t permit violence in the cells.”
“Violence?” Yuri replied, confused.
“I see all that goes on here.”
“You’re referring to the horseplay we were having earlier…?”
Farah blushed, her eyes on her food.
“That wasn’t violence. We were just having some fun.”
McGunn nodded and sauntered away, a vein in his neck pulsing impatiently at the idea of having Yuri tied in his basement domain.
“Well done,” said Vanessa in a low tone. “Now he’ll give you his worst.”
“Just what I was seeking, my dear,” said Yuri. “Let’s see what he’s got.”
CHAPTER IV
This was not Yuri’s first time in a hogtied position. During her dominatrix apprenticeship she shared the point-of-view of her mentors that one should—at least once—experience what one inflicts on others. It was from those same mentors that she had been schooled in maintaining a poker face at all costs. Whether something unexpected happens in a session; whether you’re faced with a request that is unfamiliar or wacky; whether something amuses you and it would be inappropriate to react to it: a world-class dominatrix always maintains a straight face.
She had this in mind while other nagging thoughts persisted, letting her know that she was currently in a very different scenario from anything she had before encountered or prepared for. Still, the best way to approach it was to make-believe she was back in the house of a former mentor to ensure she was maintaining these high standards.
The door behind her opened and she knew it was McGunn. Without a word, the two armed guards who had escorted her to the basement and tied her up left the room. McGunn’s first mind-trick was suspense – he let the sound of the closing door echo around the room.
“If this had been a private residence or nightclub, I would have been quietly impressed by the array of bondage furniture you’ve managed to accumulate, Warden,” she said.
No reply.
“However, the strip-lighting is a little stark for my liking. And I can tell that your team don’t know how to properly care for the equipment. I recognise the aromas of sweat and prematurely-aging leather that occur when it isn’t properly wiped down after use.”
“And I…” said McGunn, making her start due to his proximity – he had approached silently as she was speaking, “…I recognise the nervous chatter of a woman who is doing her best to appear strong and infallible. You all think you can hide it, but I’ve been around enough to recognise the gamut of coping mechanisms.”
Yuri felt the Hilton Hotel slippers slide from her feet and he dropped them to the floor. She instantly felt her palms and soles sweat with the anticipation of what was to come.
“That said,” said McGunn, “I’m interested to know your history and none of the paperwork arrived with you latest inmates. Why are you so familiar with BDSM furniture?”
“I’m a dominatrix,” she said with an assertive air.
“Not here you’re not,” said McGunn.
Yuri’s body quivered involuntarily as two fingers swept simultaneously over her slick, upward-facing soles.
“You’ve got nice, well-cared-for feet. Is that for all of your foot-worshipping submissives?” asked McGunn, a disparaging tone to his voice.
“Is that detective work or do you speak from experience?”
“I don’t need to pay for it!” he said, leaning into her and reaching through the gap between the small of her back and her tied arms. She knew what was to come but before she could prepare herself, his fingers expertly grasped the muscles just above her hips. She did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t do and tensed in order to resist. This gave him the clearest target he could have wished for as the fibres of her stomach muscles presented themselves for overstimulation.
- - -
Despite the number of women in the prison and the number of times each of them had been taken to the dreaded basement and tickled to the point of torturous insanity, there were very few whose laughter reached the precise volume and pitch needed to penetrate through the concrete lower floors of the prison.
Farah and Vanessa were sitting in silence, awaiting the return of their new cellmate. Turi seemed confident she could withstand the torture. Farah wanted to know if she was right. At the same time, she knew that Vanessa was hoping she couldn’t, more as a point of pride than any kind of resentment – she didn’t want to believe that it was possible for anyone else to withstand it when she couldn’t. That’s when the sound emanated from the depths of the building – a semi high-pitched stream of laughter that gradually quietened the whole corridor. Every prisoner knew what was going on and it disturbed each one in her own way. One of their own was suffering as they all suffered. Usually they could try to forget about it in between times and ignore the idea that someone was always being tortured, but not when the haunting laughter of a fellow inmate was so obviously intense.
Farah was surprised to see Deputy Warden Dayton, as if in suspended animation, in the corridor outside their cell. She, too, was listening intently to the sound and glanced into the cell, obviously recognising who was missing. Farah was intrigued to notice that there wasn’t the expected look of sadistic satisfaction on her face—the one she was used to seeing between her feet whenever she had to stick them out between the bars—but instead a look that showed distinct jealousy.
- - -
Yuri gasped for breath and shook her head in an attempt to mitigate the sweat that was constantly seeping into her eyes.
McGunn straightened and stretched out his back, giving her a brief respite, purely for his own comfort.
“Are you a she-fag?” he asked, casually.
“A what?”
“A lesbo. This place is full of them.”
“You sound disgusted.” Yuri was eager to draw this conversation out by any means necessary.
“I don’t care if you want to tickle your cell-mates. In fact, I very much enjoy watching that. But I don’t want any muff-diving dykes in my facility. It goes against the word of God.”
Yuri turned her head and tightened her lips to stop herself laughing at the man’s hypocrisy. She knew better than to outwit him in a debate about the Christian perspective of tying up hundreds of women on a daily basis and tormenting them against their will to satisfy fetishistic desires, or sodomy, as many interpretations of the Bible would refer to it.
“Now, back to your sweaty soles–”
“No! Wait!” said Yuri, who was momentarily perturbed to hear the level of panic in her own voice.
“Wait for what?” said McGunn, who was well-used to hearing this and wiggled his fingers ever-closer to her feet with no intent on stopping.
“You’re obviously very good at this!”
McGunn hesitated. “And you’re an authority on this because…?”
“Like I said: I’m a dominatrix.”
“You do this a lot as a dominatrix, do you?”
“Of course.”
“That’s, ‘Yes, Warden.’!” he barked and scribbled adeptly at her soft arches.
“Yes, Warden!” she screamed through giggles. “Yes, Warden, Sir!”
He felt a swell of arousal and stopped. “So what?”
“So, I doubt if many of your team are as good as you.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And maybe you need someone to train them?”
“I can do my own training, Inmate.”
“Of course you can, Warden, Sir. Forgive me. But is there anything else I can help you with? Anything at all?”
McGunn sighed. He couldn’t keep count of the number of women in his career who had offered him an alternative method of pleasure if he would just stop tickling them. The issue they faced was that nothing excited him more than tickling them and, even if he felt like some variety, the last thing he was going to do was place his johnson between the jaws of any woman who had good reason to take violent revenge on him.
“Anything at all?” Yuri repeated, ignoring the bitter taste of her false compliance.
“I don’t need a dominatrix to–” He stopped mid-sentence. Maybe this woman could be of use after all…
CHAPTER V
The cell door opened and a sweating Yuri was shoved inside. She dropped onto the bottom bunk and face-planted into the pillow. They waited until the guards were gone before speaking.
Vanessa regarded her with a mix of sympathy and vindication.“That was shorter than most women here get.”
“But maybe more intense,” Yuri replied, her voice muffled.
“How was it?” asked Farah.
“Exhausting,” she said, twisting on the bed until she was looking up at them both, “but worthwhile.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I’ve a way to cause a disruption in here.”
“Okay…?”
“A disruption that might give us enough time for some of us to escape, but we’d each be taking a big risk.”
Farah and Vanessa listened intently.
CHAPTER VI
Janine Dayton stepped from McGunn’s shower to his bedroom and gleefully dropped her towel. McGunn was on his bed and more aroused than she had ever seen him before.
He watched her in the meagre light of the bedside lamp and even though he had slept with her so many times that he was flagging with the unoriginality of their sex life and found her to be particularly sexless in her uniform, she still had an exceptionally fit body. She wasn’t as petite as he generally went for, but she was still wonderfully toned despite stopping CrossFit since the outbreak of war, partially due to her 500 sit-ups per day. She knew how much he liked a toned tummy – it signposted so many ticklish spots, which were now nicely illuminated by shadows.
He didn’t know how she’d react if he started sleeping with any of the other women POs and he knew that there was no going back if he did. It could cause chaos and dissension among his troops and that was something he wasn’t going to risk. Besides, while he was curious how it would be to tickle each and every one of them, none of them were as attractive as Dayton.
Over the past couple of weeks he had been seeking a way to make her as erotic to him as she was when they first met. His sexuality was like an anaconda working its way up a tree – sliding its way into a new position in order to gain a higher perspective on things. And today he had happened upon a particularly stimulating view.
“You look very ready for action, Sir,” she said, climbing onto the bed and straddling his loins.
“I feel it too.”
Using both hands she released the band from her pony-tail, shaking her hair free. At this juncture she was expecting his usual attack on her exposed armpits but it didn’t come. Disappointed, she kept her arms up and pretended to inspect them. “How do my underarms look to you? I just shaved them. They feel very smooth,” she said, stroking one herself.
“Is that so? Perhaps someone should touch them.”
“That’s just what I was thinking…” There was an uncomfortable pause while she waited for the heavy hint to land. “Don’t you want to?” she asked.
“I was thinking of something else. Or, more to the point, someone else.”
“What do you mean?”
“How would you like it if another woman did that to you?”
“Which other woman?” she said, lowering her arms. “I’m the Deputy Warden. I’m not having any of the other officers tickle me. They don’t get to have power over me like that!”
“No, not the officers–”
“Who then? It’s not like we can bring in a high-end call-girl from the outside world, is it?”
“Not a call-girl–”
“Then who?”
McGunn’s hesitance told Dayton everything she needed to know.
“You’re thinking of that skank you had in the dungeon today, aren’t you?!”
“She’s not a ‘skank’, she–”
“She’s an inmate!”
McGunn felt concerned at how heated Dayton was getting and how exposed he currently was. He didn’t want her to snap anything off. “It’s okay – she’s a trained dominatrix.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?! If I don’t want to be undermined by an officer, I’m definitely not letting a lowly criminal bitch get her hands on me, especially not some glorified whore!” She left the bed, inadvertently tugging the bed sheets away with her. “I don’t know what you think of me, William!”
This was the first time she had ever used his first name. He felt indignant and infantilised by it and wanted to assert his authority, although lying alone on his bed with a rapidly deflating erection didn’t feel like the time to do so. Instead, he watched as she collected her clothes and her gun and left to sleep in her own quarters.
CHAPTER VII
The following morning the daytime prison officers congregated in the mess hall for the daily briefing. McGunn usually let his deputy host the meeting but today he chose to take it himself and was eager to see whether she had calmed down. A fiery aura from her corner of the room indicated she had not. After a few rousing words and assurances to the officers that they will get their time in the basement (which, up until this point, he admitted to have somewhat monopolised) he made a request.
“Deputy Warden Dayton, will you please take Rashid, Holbrook and Stone to the basement and prepare them for treatment?”
Incensed by this provocation in front of the entire day team, Dayton gritted her teeth and simply said, “Of course, Warden.”
McGunn detected the exact same lack of respect initially given to him by Yuri the day before but chose to overlook it. “Dismissed.”
As the team went about their duties, Dayton made a beeline for the cells so as to not give McGunn the chance to deliver a half-hearted apology and was infuriated to note that he didn’t even attempt to do so.
- - -
Farah splashed her face with cold water from the sink. “I’m not sure about this,” she whispered. “Shit like this always goes wrong in some way.”
“Do you want to stay in here for the rest of your life?” asked Vanessa.
Farah ignored her and looked to Yuri.
“What do you want? Guarantees?” Yuri asked. “I’ve given us the opportunity. All we can do is try. If we fail, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“We could get shot.”
Yuri considered. “Yes. That would be unfortunate. But don’t forget – Cassie Jones is on the loose and your parents and sisters–”
“Yeah, I get it!” said Farah. “You don’t need to manipulate me.”
Yuri conceded.
The wing door unlocked abruptly and the guards stamped to attention. Heavy footsteps approached. A flustered Dayton arrived outside their cell and swiped her card. The door refused to open. She turned to the CCTV camera. “Release the Warden’s lock!” she demanded. It released, she swiped the card and yanked open the cell door. “You three: out!”
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri moved quickly into the corridor. Dayton pulled out her firearm and indicated the far end of the corridor. “Basement. Move!”
“Should one of us go with you?” said a corridor guard.
“I’m fine alone,” said Dayton.
At gunpoint, the women double-timed it along the corridor and down the concrete stairwell to the basement.
Two guards stood outside.
“The dungeon is empty, right?” asked Dayton.
“Yes, Ma’am,” replied one of the guards.
“Good. Find duties elsewhere.”
“But, Ma’am, we–”
“Now! Or no tickling privileges for a month!”
The guards obeyed and headed upstairs. Dayton ushered the three prisoners into the empty dungeon and slammed the door behind her.
“Is everything okay, Deputy Warden?” asked Yuri.
“Shut the fuck up!”said Dayton, indicating with her pistol for them to line up against the wall. “I’m sick of you three. At first it was good to play out my dislike for you by torturing you, but now that you do it in your cell for fun, it’s obviously not a punishment any more.”
She pointed the gun at Vanessa, “He’s been obsessed with you for years. God knows why! Then your little friend turned up…” she turned the gun on Farah, “and I could tell she would keep him interested for ages. But now this bitch arrives…” she aimed at Yuri, “and, within one day, he’s talking about getting you involved in our relationship!”
“Deputy–” Farah started.
“Shut! Up!” said Dayton through clenched teeth. She moved the barrel of the gun to between Farah’s eyes. Farah froze. She’d never had a gun pointed at her before.
“There is no law any more. I’m the law here. Every day thousands of Americans are gunned down outside these walls, so who the hell is going to miss you three scumbags? Even the warden will have forgotten about you by this time next week—he has this whole prison and more to choose from—so, night-night ladies!”
She pulled the trigger.
Farah winced.
A hollow click.
Dayton stared in disbelief. Before she could try again all three women pounced and wrestled her to the floor. She threw a punch to Vanessa’s chest, decking her, then stood up as Farah and Yuri hung from her arms like monkeys from a tree. She shook them off with incredible ease and grabbed Yuri by the throat with one hand, ready to knock her out.
Farah spotted a leather strap hanging from a chain threaded through a ceiling pulley that fed back down to a crank wheel. She looped the strap around Dayton’s throat and yanked her back, causing the punch to whistle past Yuri’s nose.
Farah fumbled to buckle the strap just in time and raced to turn the crank, stretching Dayton up until she was standing on her booted tiptoes.
Vanessa picked up the gun and fought to catch her breath. “Unless you want to be pistol-whipped into unconsciousness, do exactly as you’re told, bitch!”
Yuri proceeded to unzip Dayton’s uniform and bullet-proof vest, then pulled off her boots, pants and shirt and threw them into a far corner. She kept back some zip-ties from her belt and struggled to get Dayton to stay still while she tried to tie her wrists behind her.
Vanessa primed the butt of the gun. “Hey, stupid – just gimme an excuse!”
Dayton held her look with snarling resentment as Yuri zip-tied her wrists and ankles. Farah found a handy rope and looped it from her ankles to a nearby padded bench, preventing her temptation to kick.
“Done,” she said.
“You bitches are dead,” said Dayton.
“You’re imagining things, dear,” said Yuri. “The gun didn’t work, remember?”
“The warden will see to it that you pay for this–”
Vanessa laughed.
“The warden?” said Yuri, dead-pan. “Who do you think took the bullets from your gun?”
Dayton was speechless. The last twelve hours played over in her mind at high-speed and she slowly looked up at the CCTV camera in the corner of the room.
“While I was in the shower?” she muttered under her breath.
“That’s right, Tinkerbell,” said Yuri. “He played you like a violin.”
“He knew exactly how you would react,” said Vanessa. “We won’t get punished; we’ll get rewards. The only risk we took was that he managed to get the bullets out of your gun while you weren’t looking. You don’t worry us – he is the law around here.”
- - -
Having given the security team other duties for the day, McGunn sat alone in the security office, his pants round his ankles and a cup vegetable oil by his side. The green glow illuminated him once more as he watched with unblinking eyes the woman who was the closest he’d ever had to a wife hanging helpless and vulnerable while three hot women with a genuine reason to deliver vengeance surrounded her. While he couldn’t hear what they were saying, his imagination filled in the blanks adequately. The stunned look Janine Dayton gave the camera said it all and, ironically, she looked sexier than ever. Then Holbrook and Stone both blew kisses at him. It struck him that there was potential for them to be a team of subverters within his system.
But he would think about that later. Right now there was something mind-blowing to focus on and he didn’t want to focus on anything else…
CHAPTER VIII
“Socks off?” asked Vanessa.
“Oh, absolutely,” Yuri replied, savouring the moment.
Dangling in just a sports bra, socks and panties, Dayton wanted to struggle, but knew it would have no effect. She couldn’t release her neck, wrists or ankles by tugging and even if she tried to kick her legs together, she would strangle herself in the process.
She felt one sock slip off. “You bitches are–”
“Save it,” said Vanessa. “Even if we were concerned by your little threats, do you think we’d let you go now?”
“There are worse things I can do than I’ve done up until now!” Dayton snapped. “How about the next time I cuff your ankles outside of your cell I don’t use a hairbrush: I use a chainsaw and a blowtorch?”
“Are you forgetting the predicament you’re currently in, Janine?” asked Yuri.
“Deputy–!”
“It’s Janine, alright, Janine?” said Vanessa as she yanked off the second sock. “You’re no authority figure and you never will be again.”
“We’ll see about that!”
“Yes, we will,” said Yuri as she stepped very close behind Dayton.
Vanessa tried not to cringe as she watched Yuri reach round their captive with hands formed into claws and drag her purposefully pointed nails from her navel out to the sides of her well-toned stomach.
Dayton looked to the ceiling, twisted her body and let out a frustrated growl. “Ge-het off!” she demanded.
“Did you hear that, Vanessa?” said Yuri.
Vanessa nodded. “It sounded like a bit of a laugh to me. And you’ve hardly started!”
“Imagine that: it seems like the hard-as-nails ‘Deputy Warden’ isn’t as tough as she likes to portray.”
As she spoke, Yuri continued to trace irregular courses over Dayton’s tummy, causing her to tense her impressive abdominals and switch between squeezing her eyes tight or looking skyward, as though seeking an intervention from God.
“But but we haven’t reached a wellspring yet, have we, Janine?” teased Yuri as she dragged her nails round the curve of Dayton’s waist and explored her lower back, making her arch a little but sensing no real weak spot. “Mm. Nice butt, Janine. You must do a lot of squats.” She raised the pantie legs to maximise access and teased her fingers in circles over her bare backside.
Dayton wriggled uncomfortably and Yuri noticed the tiny fine hairs all over her body stand on end.
“Sensitive, but not the level of ticklishness we’re looking for,” said Yuri in an analytical tone that made Vanessa view her as a true professional within her field; someone with standards who wasn’t going to make-do with less than the best results.
Yuri’s fingertips rushed down the backs of Dayton’s thighs, forcing an embarrassing cry-whimper response. Vanessa and Yuri laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me!” Dayton shouted.
“Why ever not?” said Yuri. “Now, let’s try the old popliteal fossa…”
“The what?” asked Vanessa.
Yuri crept light circling touches and teases even further down. “The knee-pits; backs of the knees. I’m quite clinical in my knowledge of the human form.”
“I see,” said Vanessa and she observed the effect it had on Dayton, who, as far as her bonds would allow her, attempted to jog on the spot.
“More infuriating than ticklish, would you say, Janine?” asked Yuri. She got no response. “I thought so. As much as I enjoy infuriating, we don’t have the luxury of that much time. Perhaps we’ll have to lock you in a box of cockroaches at some point in the near future. Okay, let’s go for an obvious one…”
Yuri went further down, slaloming her fingers around Janine Dayton’s smooth shins and calves, her smirk broadening into a smile as her victim’s breathing quickened. She hovered around the shapely ankles, trickling her fingers rapidly like an unpredictable swarm of flies. “Is there a problem, Janine?”
Dayton’s jaw muscle stood prominent as she refused to answer.
“I didn’t really expect you to admit it,” said Yuri, “Mule-some folk like you never do, until it is forced out of you. Shall I tell you what I think? I suspect your problem is your… highly… ticklish… feet…”
With that, she trawled her nails down over both smooth bare heels. Janine Dayton’s entire body tensed. The nails scraped over her high arches. A sound of resistance strained in the back of her throat and she again looked to the heavens. Yuri reached the balls of her feet and a repressed laugh finally emerged through her clenched teeth.
Yuri focussed on the balls of her feet. They were wide, soft and smooth – plenty of sensitive skin to play with and obviously pumiced and well-treated. They were undoubtedly the most ticklish part of Dayton’s body so far, but Yuri felt her own frustration: Dayton wasn’t reacting anywhere near as strongly enough as she wanted her to. Once or twice, she tried to delve further into the crevices of the toes, but, either intentionally or not, the way she was balanced caused her to step down too hard on the floor and prevent any access. Brief fingernail testing to the tops of her toe cleavage were not fruitful.
Having been through uncountable torturous experiences of her own, Vanessa was underwhelmed. She wanted the desperate pleading and begging for mercy from Dayton that she and every other woman in the prison endured. If Yuri couldn’t coax it out of her, then who could? It occurred to her that maybe Yuri wasn’t as clinical as she thought she was and, while she felt that she’d been conditioned to drop to her knees with nauseousness at the mere thought of tickling someone else, she should do more than stand back and watch. If nothing else, she could assist with Janine Dayton’s psychological destruction.
“What do you say, Stone? Is she as feeble as you thought she’d be?”
Dayton flashed her a venomous look and continued to writhe and titter in her bonds.
“I think we’re getting there,” said Yuri. “Sometimes things work immediately. However, some people need time for the sensations to truly penetrate. They don’t see it coming in themselves, until it bubbles up from within and then they can’t hold back.”
“But she’s vulnerable, right?” said Vanessa, holding Dayton’s stare.
“Oh, certainly she is,” said Yuri, although her expression betrayed her tone of confidence.
“Is that true?” teased Vanessa in a condescending tone. “Is widdle Janine all tickwish?”
Dayton glared at her with a cocktail of emotions. Her clenched anger was undermined by an irrepressible smirk and the knowledge that she was mildly ticklish in most places, but a couple of spots drove her insane. It wasn’t going to take long for these women to find at least one of them, at which point she would lose the plot. She always did, but nobody except one of her lovers had ever witnessed that. She’d given this information to him; trusted him with her deepest and most personal secret and he had betrayed her for a one-off luxury tug. This got to her more than any physical assault or sophomore attempt at psychological torment and she did her best to quell those emotions.
“Aww, is she crying already?” said Vanessa, noticing a shine in Dayton’s eyes.
“Fuck you!” Dayton snapped.
“Fuck me?” said Vanessa. “Fuck me?!” Years of unjust imprisonment, humiliation and physical torment surged to the surface and she lunged at Dayton. Unbeknownst to her, those same years had subconsciously instilled a meticulous intuition formed out of experience, repetition and empathy – she grabbed a centimetre above the hips, wriggled her thumbs with the perfect amount of pressure into the tensed abdominals and Janine Dayton exploded into uncontrollable laughter.
Yuri stumbled back in surprise.
Growls of frustration melted as soon as they were mustered as Dayton swiftly realised she had no hope of resisting. She twisted violently to pull away from Vanessa’s grasp, tightening the leather strap at her neck. Pressure built in her forehead and she twisted back, coughing and learning never to try that again.
“Bad move!” said Vanessa with an undisguised vindictiveness.
Dayton gathered saliva in her mouth, ready to spit, when a bolt of sensation flew through her body from her feet to her brain – the defences were down. Vanessa’s attack on her hips meant that a simultaneous assault on her feet from Yuri was devastating. Eyes bulging, staring into space, she drew a breath that filled her lungs to capacity. For a several moments the world fell silent before a deafening eruption of maniacal laughter filled the huge dungeon.
CHAPTER IX
William McGunn was dealing with the aftermath of his own eruption. What he had just witnessed topped the ever-expanding list of the hottest things he had ever seen and, as he wiped himself dry, he was already contemplating a way to top it. Maybe by organising an even larger group of inmates to trap and tickle-torture Janine and a couple of the other sexy officers? Obviously, he would have Holbrook, Stone and Rashid lead the group–
…Rashid…
He looked back to the screen – Janine was utterly hysterical at the hands of Holbrook and Stone, but Farah Rashid was nowhere to be seen.
The office door squeaked open. McGunn rushed to cover himself and pull up his pants. “I thought I told you I would oversee–!” He stopped, open-mouthed to see Farah Rashid, dressed in Janine Dayton’s uniform, a semi-automatic machine gun in her hand and five more slung over her shoulder.
He looked back to the screens in disbelief. His custom-made tickle extravaganza was still in progress, but among the multitude of CCTV feeds three screens showed several guards, unconscious and zip-tied together. Farah was dripping with sweat.
“I can’t believe it worked,” said Farah, “but Vanessa was right: you are one tunnel-visioned son-of-a-bitch.”
McGunn looked to his gun, which lay in its holster over by the coffee machine.
“That’s too far,” said Farah calmly. “Especially with your pants round your goddamn ankles. How many bullets do you think I can put in you before you reach it?”
“What are you hoping to achieve here?” said McGunn.
“Freedom.”
“You mean freedom to go out into the world, get raped, shot and thrown into a ditch in five minutes flat?”
“It’s a risk,” said Farah, “but it’s my choice to risk it.”
“I’ve given you a safe space! You kill the officers who were protecting you?” he pointed to the screens.
Farah would have laughed if she wasn’t so incensed. “I didn’t kill them, I knocked them the hell out. And I don’t call being used as multiple fetishists’ sex slave ‘safety’, McGunn. Now, get out here.”
McGunn flushed with rage but he had no choice. He went to lift his underwear and trousers.
“Uh-uh!” said Farah. “You can walk along like that. It’ll take three times as long, but I don’t want you to attempt any heroics. You can bunny-hop down the stairwell.”
- - -
Initially Farah had tried to avert her eyes from McGunn’s penis, but noticing it bounce every time he hopped down a stair amused her and she was looking forward to her cellmates seeing the state he was in.
Once down the stairs they approached the dungeon door, behind which Dayton’s laughter had surpassed delirium. Farah swiped the deputy warden’s card and the door opened.
Vanessa and Yuri, who had been lost in the enjoyment of torturing Dayton, jumped as they were interrupted. Looks of surprise turned into gratification as they realised that their plan had worked – Farah had McGunn at gunpoint, pants round his ankles and flaccid penis that was so shrivelled with fear that it appeared to be attempting to retreat inside his body.
“Nicely done, girl!” said Vanessa.
Sweating and red with fury and the consequences of her torment, Dayton bawled at McGunn, “You two-timing, pathetic motherfucker!”
“Look, I’ll let you walk out of here, if that’s what you want,” said McGunn, ignoring Dayton.
“You know that’s what we want, Einstein,” said Farah. “It’s also what every other woman here wants.”
“They can’t all leave! I might have bent the rules a little in my favour, but all of these women are guilty of crimes and need to be incarcerated!”
The room fell quiet; the only sound being Dayton’s panting as she recovered from her ordeal. Vanessa stepped towards McGunn with tears welling in her eyes. “Tell me what I was ever guilty of,” she said.
“You kidnapped–”
Vanessa slugged him across the jaw and he dropped like a cloth puppet.
CHAPTER X
“Freeze!” yelled both corridor guards as they primed their weapons.
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri returned to their corridor in a very different way to which they had left just one hour earlier. Now they held semi-automatic machine guns and had Warden McGunn and Deputy Warden Dayton (who were dressed in just their underwear) as a human shield.
“Or what?” called McGunn to the guards. “You’ll shoot them through us? Lower your goddamn weapons!”
The women in the cells jumped to their feet and rushed to their cell doors as they realised what was happening. Cries to be set free rapidly built to a cacophony.
“Shut up!” yelled Farah as they edged down the corridor. They stopped outside the cell of Dulce Golino and a couple of her kitchen compadres who had attacked Farah in her first days at the prison – the time Vanessa saved her.
Dulce’s eyes locked on McGunn. As one of the most hypersensitive women in the prison, she was so eager to get revenge that she appeared to be willing to eat her way through the bars to get at him. Farah held up a bunch of key cards that she had taken from the unconscious guards. Dulce looked at her and said nothing. “If I let you out, will you do what we tell you?”
Dulce nodded.
“You’re forgetting something, Rashid,” said Dayton. “The warden’s lock. Without it, none of the doors in this prison will open.”
“You’re forgetting something, Janine,” Farah replied, “You’re boyfriend is such a mouth-breathing idiot that he didn’t turn the warden’s lock back on once you let us out!”
Dayton looked to McGunn, who lowered his head in shame.
Farah swiped the card and Dulce’s cell door opened.
Under Farah’s instruction, McGunn and Dayton were taken inside and zip-tied to the bunk beds. Outnumbered five-to-two, the corridor guards surrendered and were locked inside Vanessa and Farah’s old cell. Soon, every cell door was opened and the corridor was filled with prisoners.
Yuri could tell that Farah and Vanessa had no experience in leading crowds and so she got into character, stood tall and proud and took charge of the situation.
“Pay attention!” she announced as quietly as possible, “We have a plan, but it will only be a success if we all work together!”
The women listened as she laid out the strategy for the women to go corridor-by-corridor until all guards were overwhelmed and locked up—accumulating an arsenal as they went—and the prison was fully under their control.
“I will be in the mess hall. Any problems, you come find me! Let’s go!”
Dulce’s group were elected to be militia leaders – something for which they were naturally suited. Yuri adopted some of the fitter-looking prisoners to be her bodyguards, while Farah and Vanessa headed back up to the CCTV suite to oversee the operation. It went like clockwork, save for two corridor guards who thought they stood a chance against eleven determined women. Their last stand was over in seconds, although it did result in the deaths of two prisoners.
The noise attracted the attention of the perimeter guards, who decided to investigate. Fortunately, their movements were seen by Farah and Vanessa, who informed Yuri via the PO’s confiscated walkie-talkies. To Farah, watching the events on TV screens made the whole thing feel like a tacky 1990’s B-movie – when the perimeter guards entered, they were surrounded and disarmed by thirty topless women with guns.
The final part of the takeover was achieved with relative ease – the quarters of the overnight guards was stormed as they slept. They were marched out into the corridors and locked up. Ultimately, the number of guards meant that they were able to be placed in one cell each, with plenty to spare.
With the task complete, all prisoners congregated in the mess hall. The main topic of conversation seemed to be what happens now? As Farah, Vanessa and Yuri hadn’t discussed this part of the plan themselves, Yuri stood on top of a table and improvised an announcement. As she spoke, the crowd quietened to hear what she had to say.
“Ladies! Ladies! Congratulations! You have reclaimed your freedom!”
A deafening cheer. Several rounds of machine gun fire were even let off in celebration, until showers of ceiling plaster suggested it wasn’t such a good idea.
“Many of you wouldn’t be blamed for thinking this day might never come and, if it did, you didn’t expect it to be in the middle of a civil war. For the number of women here, there are probably an equal number of plans as to what to do next, but to simplify things I will suggest two categories – those who want to leave and those who want to stay.
“For those who want to leave, I say good luck. I suggest you leave together as the land outside is more dangerous than ever before. And I urge you—whatever has befallen your friends and families; God willing, they are all safe—do not fall into the trap of hating your neighbours. We have just proven what we can do if we work together, rather than fight!
“As for those who want to stay, I will be here…”
Farah and Vanessa reacted, but weren’t surprised.
“We may have entered this place against our will, but so far it has provided us with protection from the war. If we continue to be smart and work together we can learn from our captors and survive until the war comes to an end.
“Please take the time to consider which route you would like to choose. I do not assume the title of leader, but if you wish it, I will take charge until the war is over.”
The speech was greeted with whoops and applause.
Farah helped Yuri step down from her parapet.
“Are you sure you want to stay?” asked Vanessa.
“Are you both sure you don’t want to?” replied Yuri.
“I don’t have a choice,” said Farah. “You know that. And I can’t wait around for a group consensus.”
Yuri indicated that Farah should make her own speech. Farah climbed aboard the table.
“Excuse me! Ladies!”
The chatter subdued.
“Er… you may not know me, but I need to leave immediately. I’m heading to Texas and I can’t wait. If any of you know you want to leave and you’re heading that way, I’ll be in the courtyard in ten minutes. Like Yuri said, we’ll be safer together. That’s all.”
Farah stepped down and looked to Vanessa. “Are you coming?”
“May as well. Although I’m going to New York to find my sister.”
Yuri held out her hand. “Good luck to you both, my dears.”
Vanessa took her hand. “You too, Yuri. And thank you.”
“We three did it together,” said Yuri. “Remember that.”
CHAPTER XI
Yuri returned to cell where McGunn and Dayton were zip-tied to the same bunk bed. The women who were guarding them had taken the time to cuff their feet outside the bars of the cell in the same way that had been regularly done to the inmates on inspection days.
“It’s done,” she said. “The prison is now in our hands and the women have chosen me to be their leader until the war is over.”
“You idiots!” said McGunn. “How can you hope to control and organise an entire building of whores and scumbags?”
“By giving them what they need and treating them with respect,” Yuri replied calmly.
McGunn snickered. “Good luck with that. You have no idea how to run this place – keep the water and electricity running or get food and supplies. You’ll be begging me to help you by the weekend.”
“It’s true – you are more experienced than most of the people in this building when it comes to that–”
“All the people in this building!” he interrupted.
“Not quite,” said Dayton from the lower bunk.
“What are you talking about?” said McGunn.
“I know how this place runs too.”
“So what? We’re in this together!”
“Like we were in it together when you bargained to have three prisoners strip, torture and humiliate me earlier today?!”
“That’s because I fancy you–”
“Don’t give me that horseshit!” she snapped. “You wanted your own specially-cultivated fantasy to come true because you’ve spent your whole life watching tickle porn and getting everything you want, so now you can’t get a hard-on unless there’s something new and novel to flick the switch in your tiny closed mind!”
Yuri smiled. “So you’ll help us, Miss Dayton?”
“Call me Janine.”
“Of course.”
Just then Dulce arrived with her kitchen cohorts, each of them carrying a mop bucket. They backed Yuri in silence. McGunn could do nothing but look through the bars and between his feet at the women standing before him; women who he had revelled in torturing beyond their ability to cope countless times.
“What do you want?” he asked defiantly.
“We need to illustrate something to Janine,” said Yuri.
McGunn smiled.
“What!? Why me? I said I’d work with you!” said Dayton.
“You did. And I want to work with you too, but I don’t underestimate your abilities and I don’t trust you yet. So, to ensure you don’t get any ideas about trying to undermine us and seizing back control, I’ve decided to demonstrate what will happen if you do.”
“No!” Dayton cried. “No more tickling today!”
“We ain’t gonna tickle you,” said Dulce as she stepped forward, her eyes on McGunn’s large feet. “We’re gonna show you how you’ll pay if you fuck up.”
McGunn’s felt his mouth go dry. Dulce pulled a sponge from her bucket and squeezed soapy water over his soles. They were going to make an example of him – they were going to tickle him! His mind sparkled to life and he recalled fantasies he used to have long ago at the idea of a harem of women who would tickle him for fun on a daily basis. His tummy flipped at the idea; this was a whole new outlook on things and he loved it. He also loved that Dulce, the pretty young Italian-American girl, was going to be the first to take revenge in him.
His voice shook as he said the words that fed into his fantasy: “Please. Please don’t tickle me. I’m too ticklish…”
The women reacted with disgust, not least because as he spoke his penis twitched and started to grow.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Yuri and she walked away, accompanied by her bodyguards.
Dulce and one of the other women reached into their buckets and pulled something out. McGunn watched, excited as the suds dripped down to reveal wooden brush handles. He rested his head in preparation – brushes plus lubrication was the most intense type of tickling he knew, and he had never experienced it himself. He couldn’t wait to feel the ticklish sensations and to hear himself laughing helplessly at the hands of these sexy young women.
“Hey, Mr Ticklish…” said Dulce.
McGunn had a practiced fear in his eyes as he looked up. Both women were positioned at his feet. Then he noticed something glimmer in the harsh lights of the corridor – the brushes they were holding had steel bristles. His faux expression changed into one of genuine terror.
Dulce smirked. “This ain’t gonna tickle.”
CHAPTER XII
Farah and Vanessa winced in the sunlight. It was liberating and scary to be outside for the first time in so long.
A hint of gunpowder flavoured the air and a haze of smoke covered the horizon in every direction. Newly appointed sentries took up their posts and a surprisingly small number of former inmates arrived in the courtyard, ready to leave.
The main gate buzzed open. Farah turned to make sure everyone was with them and found Vanessa, hesitating, looking back at the prison.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Vanessa. “Just… saying goodbye to routine. Who the hell knows what’s gonna happen next?”
The small ragtag band of women headed up the road. Amid the chaotic sounds that echoed on the breeze, from the newly liberated women’s prison came the agonising screams of one man.
To be continued…
by TamiraK
(contains m/f, f/f, non-consensual tickling, sexual content, violence)
Farah’s Odyssey I: Divide & Conquer
CHAPTER I
Farah and Vanessa watched as the new intake of prisoners, dressed in the revised institution uniform—just panties and slippers—filed into the corridor escorted by the armed officers. It was as much a show of strength as it was an induction for the new selection of inmates who had been farmed in from God-knows-where. Farah suspected the officers to be the types to sleep with their weapons when they weren’t torturing the women under their charge.
“Halt!” called the unmistakable and, to Farah, grating voice of Deputy Warden Janine Dayton. It wasn’t only that she took daily glee in tickling Farah into desperate peels of laughter and was effortlessly skilled in doing so, but also the way she smugly revelled in being self-appointed Warden McGunn’s number two. They were obviously sleeping together and she was behaving like she had one-up on everyone else via some innovative devious tactic, but the fact was that anyone could do what she was doing. She wasn’t even the most attractive woman in the building; she was just the most attractive officer. With the constant sound of gunfire and distant explosions of a civil war raging beyond the prison walls, Farah considered that any beautiful infiltrating anarchist could take her place.
“Face the cells!” said Dayton. The newbies followed her instructions. “You! Swap with this one.”
The woman in front of Farah and Vanessa’s cell exchanged places with a youthful-looking Japanese woman with black spiky hair and pretty, chiselled features.
Dayton faced a security camera. “Unlock!” With a beep, the Warden’s lock was released. Half of the guards stepped forward and swiped their key cards while the others kept the prisoners covered. The cell doors opened. “Inside!”
The newbies entered their new cells. The doors slammed and double-locked behind them. Farah and Vanessa’s new houseguest didn’t even blink.
“Enjoy your new home, ladies!” said Dayton with a smile in her voice and the guards left the corridor.
A variety of conversation sprung from the other cells while the chiselled woman said nothing. Farah and Vanessa felt like a cyborg from the future had just been let into their world and didn’t want to look at each other for fear of taking their eyes off her. Should they be preparing to fight? Farah subtly planted a back foot, ready to sling a punch if necessary when the woman glanced at the bunks.
“Two beds. Three women,” she said with an well-spoken English accent. “What’s the logic behind that?”
“They told us we need to work it out for ourselves,” said Vanessa. “Share, on rotation or whatever. They don’t care – we’re just not allowed to kill each other.”
“Rotation?”
“We take it in turns to sleep on the floor.”
“That’s uncivilised. I’m Yuri, by the way. Yuri Stone,” she said, sitting on the bottom bunk.
“Unusual name,” Vanessa remarked.
“Three quarters Japanese, one quarter English. I’m happy to take turns in top-to-tailing.”
“I don’t sleep next to anyone’s feet,” said Vanessa. “Or have anyone near mine. I’m Vanessa. This is Farah.”
“Oh, I recognise Miss Rashid. Pin-up girl to racists country-wide, yes?”
“That’s me,” said Farah, unimpressed but conceding that this was her current legacy.
“I’m not one of them, you understand,” said Yuri. “We have a mutual connection.”
“Oh? Who?”
“Cassie Jones,” said Yuri.
Farah’s blood ran cold and she instinctively clenched her fists. “What do you mean?”
“Calm down – she’s no friend of mine, but we did share a cell together in Montgomery and she wouldn’t stop going on about you and how she’d get revenge for you killing her boyfriend. You have a truly dedicated nutcase there, my girl.”
Farah’s heart thumped hard in her chest. “Did she come here with you?”
“She was in the convoy. We had bullet-proof buses with guards operating turret-guns on the roof. Five buses left; only three arrived here, and I’d say that was more to do with luck than anything else. The closest thing I’ve seen to it is zombie apocalypse movies.” She shook her head. “You Americans and your firearms fetish–”
“Did she come here?!” Farah demanded.
“She was on one of the buses that didn’t make it. It rolled into a ditch and the women on board scampered for freedom through the shattered windows. I saw her run into a cornfield. Lord knows where she is now.”
Farah thought of her mother, father, Sabrina and Mira. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Is that an easy prospect?” asked Yuri.
“No. The cells are doubly-secured by the officers’ swipe cards and the Warden’s lock, which covers all cells.” Farah then sat in silence, determined to think of an escape plan.
Vanessa filled the silence. “So why are you in a US prison?”
“Because some hick sheriff, ‘Din’t want no daw-minatrix in his tayan!’,” Yuri mimicked.
Vanessa smirked, “You’re a sex worker?”
“A dominatrix – there’s a big difference.”
Farah sensed an impending icy atmosphere but had nothing to impart on either side of the discussion and so changed the subject. “What was it like in Montgomery?”
“I don’t have extensive experience of these facilities. Run-of-the-mill, I suppose. Aren’t they all?”
Farah and Vanessa exchanged a look.
“They just told us they were ‘consolidating’. Tell me – what don’t I know? ”
“This place has gone from being a women’s prison to a dungeon for fetishist sickos,” said Vanessa.
Yuri was curious. “Explain, please.”
Vanessa’s lips tightened, obviously averse to elaborating on the topic. This intrigued Yuri further and she turned to Farah. “Have you heard of Jake Valentine?”
“The Tickling Kingpin?”
“You know?” Vanessa was taken aback.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been plugged into the underground fetish world since I dropped out of boarding school. What about him?”
“His disciples run this place,” said Farah. “They have no intention of letting us go – they just want to keep us here so they can torture us whenever they feel like it. That’s why they’ve imported attractive women prisoners from all over the south-eastern States.”
“Do they provide regular meals?”
Vanessa stood incredulous for a moment before answering, “Yes…?”
“Then, good. There are worse things in the world than seeing out this pathetic domestic squabble while having one’s tootsies tickled every now and then.”
Farah’s looked at her askance. “I take it you’re not ticklish?”
“Oh, no; I am,” said Yuri, “But I enjoy it.”
“You’ll change your tune after a few months in here!” said Vanessa.
“I’ve been tutored and tickled by the finest and most sadistic high-society dommes in England, Scotland, Amsterdam, Paris, Rome, Berlin and New York. I doubt some fanboy hobbyists will compare.”
“Have you always enjoyed it?” asked Farah.
Yuri considered a moment. “I suppose so.”
“Do you think it’s possible to learn to enjoy it?”
Vanessa’s sound of exasperation at the preposterousness of the conceit was so loud that it momentarily quieted the entire corridor. This gave Yuri an extra boost of enjoyment as she delivered her considered response: “Kinks and fetishes are often born out of traumas or things that we emphatically dislike at certain times of life only to later present themselves as turn-ons. I’ve met victims of assault who can only get turned on by being pinned down and men who were once beaten to tears but now enjoy nothing more than being spanked or caned–”
“Twisted people with mental scars–” Vanessa interrupted.
“–I’ve often wondered,” Yuri continued, ignoring her, “if that can happen subconsciously, wouldn’t it be possible to induce it consciously? I’ve never had a reason or a circumstance to put it into practice. Until now.”
A glint in her eye brought a smile to Farah’s lips.
CHAPTER II
McGunn, the man who now assumed the title of Warden, in the women’s prison that he renamed McGunn’s Penitentiary (in the secret hope that when the war was over people would refer to it simply as McGunn’s and that it would one day have a 50ft bronze statue of him outside the gates) stood alone in the main security office. His thin smile cut through his signature sickly pallor, which was exemplified further as it reflected the green glow cast by a wall of CCTV screens. His chest swelled with pride as he contemplated that he would go down in legend, not only for his professional ability to run an orderly prison during a civil war, but also in the underground world of tickle fanatics who could live seven lifetimes and not find themselves in charge of a prison full of sexy captive ticklees. Jake Valentine himself wouldn’t have believed this was possible.
The door opened and in walked Janine Dayton. “The new intake are all in their cells. Well… not all of them, obviously. Three out of five busloads–”
“An acceptable loss for what we’ve ended up with,” he replied. The glassy reflection of the screens in his eyes made him look exceptionally engrossed.
Dayton stroked a hand up his back. “Does it make you horny to have them all at your disposal, Warden?”
“Yes, it does,” he said.
Her hand travelled over his shoulder, down his chest and toward his crotch. “Do you want me to help you relieve that?”
He grabbed her wrist before it could reach its destination. “No. I want to go play.”
Dayton was hurt. Not only because McGunn would rather play than to have her on the desk, but also because he hadn’t even glanced at her. His eyes were locked on one particular screen. She followed his line of sight and saw that he was watching the feed from the camera he had repositioned to look directly into the cell he had become obsessed with: that of Farah and Vanessa. They were engrossed in conversation with Yuri.
“Hey. You could put some of that energy to good use – wanna take me upstairs to your quarters and tickle me?” she emphasised these last two words with all the seduction she could conjure and was disturbed to see an expression flicker across McGunn’s countenance, as if he’d swallowed a bug.
“Not now,” he said.
Embarrassed by the crassness of her own technique and insulted by his apparent boredom with the idea, she pulled her wrist from his grasp, went over to a coffee machine and poured herself a cup. “I put the one you asked for in there with your two favourites – the Japanese girl.”
“I can see,” he said, his voice dripping with primal lust. “That’s good. That’s very good indee–”
Dayton turned to see him slack-jawed and fixated. She rejoined him to see what was going on and was just as surprised – Inmate Rashid was lying on the bottom bunk, writhing in hysterics while she let the new woman straddle her and tickle her waist.
CHAPTER III
Lunchtimes in the penitentiary were organised with strict timings. Officers ate first and inmates were brought to the mess hall corridor by corridor and overwhelmingly outmanned in order to quell any ideas of rebellion before they could germinate. With the courtyard off-limits due to regular stray bullets, trips to the showers and mess hall were the only opportunities for most prisoners to leave their cells each day – a privilege easily removed and thus a further incentive to behave.
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri collected their meals and had only just sat down to eat when all the prisoners got to their feet and went silent – a ritual introduced to indicate a mark of respect whenever McGunn entered the vicinity. Not something he usually did at lunchtime, but something he did today.
He took a moment to enjoy the deference and spoke with the air of the most benevolent man on earth. “Sit. Eat.”
The women cautiously took their seats as he scanned the room. His eye locked on Farah.
“He’s coming here,” she whispered without moving her lips.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
The three women looked up. “Good afternoon, Warden,” they said in unison. Vanessa was on the verge of standing, but he stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. Yuri noticed her suppress a shiver of revulsion.
“You’re one of the new batch,” he said.
“I am,” Yuri replied. “You pointed me out to your deputy when I arrived.”
McGunn allowed himself a smirk at being caught out. “I did. I wanted to make sure you ended up in the right place: with these two.” He indicated Vanessa and Farah. “I hope you’re all getting on well.”
“Very well, Warden. Thank you.”
Her manner palpably conveyed how little respect she had for him and he lost all humour. “I think I’ll spend some time with you after your lunch.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she said, unintimidated.
“Officer Archer,” he said to a nearby PO, “see this one is delivered to me in the basement at 14:15. And, inmate, we don’t permit violence in the cells.”
“Violence?” Yuri replied, confused.
“I see all that goes on here.”
“You’re referring to the horseplay we were having earlier…?”
Farah blushed, her eyes on her food.
“That wasn’t violence. We were just having some fun.”
McGunn nodded and sauntered away, a vein in his neck pulsing impatiently at the idea of having Yuri tied in his basement domain.
“Well done,” said Vanessa in a low tone. “Now he’ll give you his worst.”
“Just what I was seeking, my dear,” said Yuri. “Let’s see what he’s got.”
CHAPTER IV
This was not Yuri’s first time in a hogtied position. During her dominatrix apprenticeship she shared the point-of-view of her mentors that one should—at least once—experience what one inflicts on others. It was from those same mentors that she had been schooled in maintaining a poker face at all costs. Whether something unexpected happens in a session; whether you’re faced with a request that is unfamiliar or wacky; whether something amuses you and it would be inappropriate to react to it: a world-class dominatrix always maintains a straight face.
She had this in mind while other nagging thoughts persisted, letting her know that she was currently in a very different scenario from anything she had before encountered or prepared for. Still, the best way to approach it was to make-believe she was back in the house of a former mentor to ensure she was maintaining these high standards.
The door behind her opened and she knew it was McGunn. Without a word, the two armed guards who had escorted her to the basement and tied her up left the room. McGunn’s first mind-trick was suspense – he let the sound of the closing door echo around the room.
“If this had been a private residence or nightclub, I would have been quietly impressed by the array of bondage furniture you’ve managed to accumulate, Warden,” she said.
No reply.
“However, the strip-lighting is a little stark for my liking. And I can tell that your team don’t know how to properly care for the equipment. I recognise the aromas of sweat and prematurely-aging leather that occur when it isn’t properly wiped down after use.”
“And I…” said McGunn, making her start due to his proximity – he had approached silently as she was speaking, “…I recognise the nervous chatter of a woman who is doing her best to appear strong and infallible. You all think you can hide it, but I’ve been around enough to recognise the gamut of coping mechanisms.”
Yuri felt the Hilton Hotel slippers slide from her feet and he dropped them to the floor. She instantly felt her palms and soles sweat with the anticipation of what was to come.
“That said,” said McGunn, “I’m interested to know your history and none of the paperwork arrived with you latest inmates. Why are you so familiar with BDSM furniture?”
“I’m a dominatrix,” she said with an assertive air.
“Not here you’re not,” said McGunn.
Yuri’s body quivered involuntarily as two fingers swept simultaneously over her slick, upward-facing soles.
“You’ve got nice, well-cared-for feet. Is that for all of your foot-worshipping submissives?” asked McGunn, a disparaging tone to his voice.
“Is that detective work or do you speak from experience?”
“I don’t need to pay for it!” he said, leaning into her and reaching through the gap between the small of her back and her tied arms. She knew what was to come but before she could prepare herself, his fingers expertly grasped the muscles just above her hips. She did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t do and tensed in order to resist. This gave him the clearest target he could have wished for as the fibres of her stomach muscles presented themselves for overstimulation.
- - -
Despite the number of women in the prison and the number of times each of them had been taken to the dreaded basement and tickled to the point of torturous insanity, there were very few whose laughter reached the precise volume and pitch needed to penetrate through the concrete lower floors of the prison.
Farah and Vanessa were sitting in silence, awaiting the return of their new cellmate. Turi seemed confident she could withstand the torture. Farah wanted to know if she was right. At the same time, she knew that Vanessa was hoping she couldn’t, more as a point of pride than any kind of resentment – she didn’t want to believe that it was possible for anyone else to withstand it when she couldn’t. That’s when the sound emanated from the depths of the building – a semi high-pitched stream of laughter that gradually quietened the whole corridor. Every prisoner knew what was going on and it disturbed each one in her own way. One of their own was suffering as they all suffered. Usually they could try to forget about it in between times and ignore the idea that someone was always being tortured, but not when the haunting laughter of a fellow inmate was so obviously intense.
Farah was surprised to see Deputy Warden Dayton, as if in suspended animation, in the corridor outside their cell. She, too, was listening intently to the sound and glanced into the cell, obviously recognising who was missing. Farah was intrigued to notice that there wasn’t the expected look of sadistic satisfaction on her face—the one she was used to seeing between her feet whenever she had to stick them out between the bars—but instead a look that showed distinct jealousy.
- - -
Yuri gasped for breath and shook her head in an attempt to mitigate the sweat that was constantly seeping into her eyes.
McGunn straightened and stretched out his back, giving her a brief respite, purely for his own comfort.
“Are you a she-fag?” he asked, casually.
“A what?”
“A lesbo. This place is full of them.”
“You sound disgusted.” Yuri was eager to draw this conversation out by any means necessary.
“I don’t care if you want to tickle your cell-mates. In fact, I very much enjoy watching that. But I don’t want any muff-diving dykes in my facility. It goes against the word of God.”
Yuri turned her head and tightened her lips to stop herself laughing at the man’s hypocrisy. She knew better than to outwit him in a debate about the Christian perspective of tying up hundreds of women on a daily basis and tormenting them against their will to satisfy fetishistic desires, or sodomy, as many interpretations of the Bible would refer to it.
“Now, back to your sweaty soles–”
“No! Wait!” said Yuri, who was momentarily perturbed to hear the level of panic in her own voice.
“Wait for what?” said McGunn, who was well-used to hearing this and wiggled his fingers ever-closer to her feet with no intent on stopping.
“You’re obviously very good at this!”
McGunn hesitated. “And you’re an authority on this because…?”
“Like I said: I’m a dominatrix.”
“You do this a lot as a dominatrix, do you?”
“Of course.”
“That’s, ‘Yes, Warden.’!” he barked and scribbled adeptly at her soft arches.
“Yes, Warden!” she screamed through giggles. “Yes, Warden, Sir!”
He felt a swell of arousal and stopped. “So what?”
“So, I doubt if many of your team are as good as you.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And maybe you need someone to train them?”
“I can do my own training, Inmate.”
“Of course you can, Warden, Sir. Forgive me. But is there anything else I can help you with? Anything at all?”
McGunn sighed. He couldn’t keep count of the number of women in his career who had offered him an alternative method of pleasure if he would just stop tickling them. The issue they faced was that nothing excited him more than tickling them and, even if he felt like some variety, the last thing he was going to do was place his johnson between the jaws of any woman who had good reason to take violent revenge on him.
“Anything at all?” Yuri repeated, ignoring the bitter taste of her false compliance.
“I don’t need a dominatrix to–” He stopped mid-sentence. Maybe this woman could be of use after all…
CHAPTER V
The cell door opened and a sweating Yuri was shoved inside. She dropped onto the bottom bunk and face-planted into the pillow. They waited until the guards were gone before speaking.
Vanessa regarded her with a mix of sympathy and vindication.“That was shorter than most women here get.”
“But maybe more intense,” Yuri replied, her voice muffled.
“How was it?” asked Farah.
“Exhausting,” she said, twisting on the bed until she was looking up at them both, “but worthwhile.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I’ve a way to cause a disruption in here.”
“Okay…?”
“A disruption that might give us enough time for some of us to escape, but we’d each be taking a big risk.”
Farah and Vanessa listened intently.
CHAPTER VI
Janine Dayton stepped from McGunn’s shower to his bedroom and gleefully dropped her towel. McGunn was on his bed and more aroused than she had ever seen him before.
He watched her in the meagre light of the bedside lamp and even though he had slept with her so many times that he was flagging with the unoriginality of their sex life and found her to be particularly sexless in her uniform, she still had an exceptionally fit body. She wasn’t as petite as he generally went for, but she was still wonderfully toned despite stopping CrossFit since the outbreak of war, partially due to her 500 sit-ups per day. She knew how much he liked a toned tummy – it signposted so many ticklish spots, which were now nicely illuminated by shadows.
He didn’t know how she’d react if he started sleeping with any of the other women POs and he knew that there was no going back if he did. It could cause chaos and dissension among his troops and that was something he wasn’t going to risk. Besides, while he was curious how it would be to tickle each and every one of them, none of them were as attractive as Dayton.
Over the past couple of weeks he had been seeking a way to make her as erotic to him as she was when they first met. His sexuality was like an anaconda working its way up a tree – sliding its way into a new position in order to gain a higher perspective on things. And today he had happened upon a particularly stimulating view.
“You look very ready for action, Sir,” she said, climbing onto the bed and straddling his loins.
“I feel it too.”
Using both hands she released the band from her pony-tail, shaking her hair free. At this juncture she was expecting his usual attack on her exposed armpits but it didn’t come. Disappointed, she kept her arms up and pretended to inspect them. “How do my underarms look to you? I just shaved them. They feel very smooth,” she said, stroking one herself.
“Is that so? Perhaps someone should touch them.”
“That’s just what I was thinking…” There was an uncomfortable pause while she waited for the heavy hint to land. “Don’t you want to?” she asked.
“I was thinking of something else. Or, more to the point, someone else.”
“What do you mean?”
“How would you like it if another woman did that to you?”
“Which other woman?” she said, lowering her arms. “I’m the Deputy Warden. I’m not having any of the other officers tickle me. They don’t get to have power over me like that!”
“No, not the officers–”
“Who then? It’s not like we can bring in a high-end call-girl from the outside world, is it?”
“Not a call-girl–”
“Then who?”
McGunn’s hesitance told Dayton everything she needed to know.
“You’re thinking of that skank you had in the dungeon today, aren’t you?!”
“She’s not a ‘skank’, she–”
“She’s an inmate!”
McGunn felt concerned at how heated Dayton was getting and how exposed he currently was. He didn’t want her to snap anything off. “It’s okay – she’s a trained dominatrix.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?! If I don’t want to be undermined by an officer, I’m definitely not letting a lowly criminal bitch get her hands on me, especially not some glorified whore!” She left the bed, inadvertently tugging the bed sheets away with her. “I don’t know what you think of me, William!”
This was the first time she had ever used his first name. He felt indignant and infantilised by it and wanted to assert his authority, although lying alone on his bed with a rapidly deflating erection didn’t feel like the time to do so. Instead, he watched as she collected her clothes and her gun and left to sleep in her own quarters.
CHAPTER VII
The following morning the daytime prison officers congregated in the mess hall for the daily briefing. McGunn usually let his deputy host the meeting but today he chose to take it himself and was eager to see whether she had calmed down. A fiery aura from her corner of the room indicated she had not. After a few rousing words and assurances to the officers that they will get their time in the basement (which, up until this point, he admitted to have somewhat monopolised) he made a request.
“Deputy Warden Dayton, will you please take Rashid, Holbrook and Stone to the basement and prepare them for treatment?”
Incensed by this provocation in front of the entire day team, Dayton gritted her teeth and simply said, “Of course, Warden.”
McGunn detected the exact same lack of respect initially given to him by Yuri the day before but chose to overlook it. “Dismissed.”
As the team went about their duties, Dayton made a beeline for the cells so as to not give McGunn the chance to deliver a half-hearted apology and was infuriated to note that he didn’t even attempt to do so.
- - -
Farah splashed her face with cold water from the sink. “I’m not sure about this,” she whispered. “Shit like this always goes wrong in some way.”
“Do you want to stay in here for the rest of your life?” asked Vanessa.
Farah ignored her and looked to Yuri.
“What do you want? Guarantees?” Yuri asked. “I’ve given us the opportunity. All we can do is try. If we fail, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“We could get shot.”
Yuri considered. “Yes. That would be unfortunate. But don’t forget – Cassie Jones is on the loose and your parents and sisters–”
“Yeah, I get it!” said Farah. “You don’t need to manipulate me.”
Yuri conceded.
The wing door unlocked abruptly and the guards stamped to attention. Heavy footsteps approached. A flustered Dayton arrived outside their cell and swiped her card. The door refused to open. She turned to the CCTV camera. “Release the Warden’s lock!” she demanded. It released, she swiped the card and yanked open the cell door. “You three: out!”
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri moved quickly into the corridor. Dayton pulled out her firearm and indicated the far end of the corridor. “Basement. Move!”
“Should one of us go with you?” said a corridor guard.
“I’m fine alone,” said Dayton.
At gunpoint, the women double-timed it along the corridor and down the concrete stairwell to the basement.
Two guards stood outside.
“The dungeon is empty, right?” asked Dayton.
“Yes, Ma’am,” replied one of the guards.
“Good. Find duties elsewhere.”
“But, Ma’am, we–”
“Now! Or no tickling privileges for a month!”
The guards obeyed and headed upstairs. Dayton ushered the three prisoners into the empty dungeon and slammed the door behind her.
“Is everything okay, Deputy Warden?” asked Yuri.
“Shut the fuck up!”said Dayton, indicating with her pistol for them to line up against the wall. “I’m sick of you three. At first it was good to play out my dislike for you by torturing you, but now that you do it in your cell for fun, it’s obviously not a punishment any more.”
She pointed the gun at Vanessa, “He’s been obsessed with you for years. God knows why! Then your little friend turned up…” she turned the gun on Farah, “and I could tell she would keep him interested for ages. But now this bitch arrives…” she aimed at Yuri, “and, within one day, he’s talking about getting you involved in our relationship!”
“Deputy–” Farah started.
“Shut! Up!” said Dayton through clenched teeth. She moved the barrel of the gun to between Farah’s eyes. Farah froze. She’d never had a gun pointed at her before.
“There is no law any more. I’m the law here. Every day thousands of Americans are gunned down outside these walls, so who the hell is going to miss you three scumbags? Even the warden will have forgotten about you by this time next week—he has this whole prison and more to choose from—so, night-night ladies!”
She pulled the trigger.
Farah winced.
A hollow click.
Dayton stared in disbelief. Before she could try again all three women pounced and wrestled her to the floor. She threw a punch to Vanessa’s chest, decking her, then stood up as Farah and Yuri hung from her arms like monkeys from a tree. She shook them off with incredible ease and grabbed Yuri by the throat with one hand, ready to knock her out.
Farah spotted a leather strap hanging from a chain threaded through a ceiling pulley that fed back down to a crank wheel. She looped the strap around Dayton’s throat and yanked her back, causing the punch to whistle past Yuri’s nose.
Farah fumbled to buckle the strap just in time and raced to turn the crank, stretching Dayton up until she was standing on her booted tiptoes.
Vanessa picked up the gun and fought to catch her breath. “Unless you want to be pistol-whipped into unconsciousness, do exactly as you’re told, bitch!”
Yuri proceeded to unzip Dayton’s uniform and bullet-proof vest, then pulled off her boots, pants and shirt and threw them into a far corner. She kept back some zip-ties from her belt and struggled to get Dayton to stay still while she tried to tie her wrists behind her.
Vanessa primed the butt of the gun. “Hey, stupid – just gimme an excuse!”
Dayton held her look with snarling resentment as Yuri zip-tied her wrists and ankles. Farah found a handy rope and looped it from her ankles to a nearby padded bench, preventing her temptation to kick.
“Done,” she said.
“You bitches are dead,” said Dayton.
“You’re imagining things, dear,” said Yuri. “The gun didn’t work, remember?”
“The warden will see to it that you pay for this–”
Vanessa laughed.
“The warden?” said Yuri, dead-pan. “Who do you think took the bullets from your gun?”
Dayton was speechless. The last twelve hours played over in her mind at high-speed and she slowly looked up at the CCTV camera in the corner of the room.
“While I was in the shower?” she muttered under her breath.
“That’s right, Tinkerbell,” said Yuri. “He played you like a violin.”
“He knew exactly how you would react,” said Vanessa. “We won’t get punished; we’ll get rewards. The only risk we took was that he managed to get the bullets out of your gun while you weren’t looking. You don’t worry us – he is the law around here.”
- - -
Having given the security team other duties for the day, McGunn sat alone in the security office, his pants round his ankles and a cup vegetable oil by his side. The green glow illuminated him once more as he watched with unblinking eyes the woman who was the closest he’d ever had to a wife hanging helpless and vulnerable while three hot women with a genuine reason to deliver vengeance surrounded her. While he couldn’t hear what they were saying, his imagination filled in the blanks adequately. The stunned look Janine Dayton gave the camera said it all and, ironically, she looked sexier than ever. Then Holbrook and Stone both blew kisses at him. It struck him that there was potential for them to be a team of subverters within his system.
But he would think about that later. Right now there was something mind-blowing to focus on and he didn’t want to focus on anything else…
CHAPTER VIII
“Socks off?” asked Vanessa.
“Oh, absolutely,” Yuri replied, savouring the moment.
Dangling in just a sports bra, socks and panties, Dayton wanted to struggle, but knew it would have no effect. She couldn’t release her neck, wrists or ankles by tugging and even if she tried to kick her legs together, she would strangle herself in the process.
She felt one sock slip off. “You bitches are–”
“Save it,” said Vanessa. “Even if we were concerned by your little threats, do you think we’d let you go now?”
“There are worse things I can do than I’ve done up until now!” Dayton snapped. “How about the next time I cuff your ankles outside of your cell I don’t use a hairbrush: I use a chainsaw and a blowtorch?”
“Are you forgetting the predicament you’re currently in, Janine?” asked Yuri.
“Deputy–!”
“It’s Janine, alright, Janine?” said Vanessa as she yanked off the second sock. “You’re no authority figure and you never will be again.”
“We’ll see about that!”
“Yes, we will,” said Yuri as she stepped very close behind Dayton.
Vanessa tried not to cringe as she watched Yuri reach round their captive with hands formed into claws and drag her purposefully pointed nails from her navel out to the sides of her well-toned stomach.
Dayton looked to the ceiling, twisted her body and let out a frustrated growl. “Ge-het off!” she demanded.
“Did you hear that, Vanessa?” said Yuri.
Vanessa nodded. “It sounded like a bit of a laugh to me. And you’ve hardly started!”
“Imagine that: it seems like the hard-as-nails ‘Deputy Warden’ isn’t as tough as she likes to portray.”
As she spoke, Yuri continued to trace irregular courses over Dayton’s tummy, causing her to tense her impressive abdominals and switch between squeezing her eyes tight or looking skyward, as though seeking an intervention from God.
“But but we haven’t reached a wellspring yet, have we, Janine?” teased Yuri as she dragged her nails round the curve of Dayton’s waist and explored her lower back, making her arch a little but sensing no real weak spot. “Mm. Nice butt, Janine. You must do a lot of squats.” She raised the pantie legs to maximise access and teased her fingers in circles over her bare backside.
Dayton wriggled uncomfortably and Yuri noticed the tiny fine hairs all over her body stand on end.
“Sensitive, but not the level of ticklishness we’re looking for,” said Yuri in an analytical tone that made Vanessa view her as a true professional within her field; someone with standards who wasn’t going to make-do with less than the best results.
Yuri’s fingertips rushed down the backs of Dayton’s thighs, forcing an embarrassing cry-whimper response. Vanessa and Yuri laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me!” Dayton shouted.
“Why ever not?” said Yuri. “Now, let’s try the old popliteal fossa…”
“The what?” asked Vanessa.
Yuri crept light circling touches and teases even further down. “The knee-pits; backs of the knees. I’m quite clinical in my knowledge of the human form.”
“I see,” said Vanessa and she observed the effect it had on Dayton, who, as far as her bonds would allow her, attempted to jog on the spot.
“More infuriating than ticklish, would you say, Janine?” asked Yuri. She got no response. “I thought so. As much as I enjoy infuriating, we don’t have the luxury of that much time. Perhaps we’ll have to lock you in a box of cockroaches at some point in the near future. Okay, let’s go for an obvious one…”
Yuri went further down, slaloming her fingers around Janine Dayton’s smooth shins and calves, her smirk broadening into a smile as her victim’s breathing quickened. She hovered around the shapely ankles, trickling her fingers rapidly like an unpredictable swarm of flies. “Is there a problem, Janine?”
Dayton’s jaw muscle stood prominent as she refused to answer.
“I didn’t really expect you to admit it,” said Yuri, “Mule-some folk like you never do, until it is forced out of you. Shall I tell you what I think? I suspect your problem is your… highly… ticklish… feet…”
With that, she trawled her nails down over both smooth bare heels. Janine Dayton’s entire body tensed. The nails scraped over her high arches. A sound of resistance strained in the back of her throat and she again looked to the heavens. Yuri reached the balls of her feet and a repressed laugh finally emerged through her clenched teeth.
Yuri focussed on the balls of her feet. They were wide, soft and smooth – plenty of sensitive skin to play with and obviously pumiced and well-treated. They were undoubtedly the most ticklish part of Dayton’s body so far, but Yuri felt her own frustration: Dayton wasn’t reacting anywhere near as strongly enough as she wanted her to. Once or twice, she tried to delve further into the crevices of the toes, but, either intentionally or not, the way she was balanced caused her to step down too hard on the floor and prevent any access. Brief fingernail testing to the tops of her toe cleavage were not fruitful.
Having been through uncountable torturous experiences of her own, Vanessa was underwhelmed. She wanted the desperate pleading and begging for mercy from Dayton that she and every other woman in the prison endured. If Yuri couldn’t coax it out of her, then who could? It occurred to her that maybe Yuri wasn’t as clinical as she thought she was and, while she felt that she’d been conditioned to drop to her knees with nauseousness at the mere thought of tickling someone else, she should do more than stand back and watch. If nothing else, she could assist with Janine Dayton’s psychological destruction.
“What do you say, Stone? Is she as feeble as you thought she’d be?”
Dayton flashed her a venomous look and continued to writhe and titter in her bonds.
“I think we’re getting there,” said Yuri. “Sometimes things work immediately. However, some people need time for the sensations to truly penetrate. They don’t see it coming in themselves, until it bubbles up from within and then they can’t hold back.”
“But she’s vulnerable, right?” said Vanessa, holding Dayton’s stare.
“Oh, certainly she is,” said Yuri, although her expression betrayed her tone of confidence.
“Is that true?” teased Vanessa in a condescending tone. “Is widdle Janine all tickwish?”
Dayton glared at her with a cocktail of emotions. Her clenched anger was undermined by an irrepressible smirk and the knowledge that she was mildly ticklish in most places, but a couple of spots drove her insane. It wasn’t going to take long for these women to find at least one of them, at which point she would lose the plot. She always did, but nobody except one of her lovers had ever witnessed that. She’d given this information to him; trusted him with her deepest and most personal secret and he had betrayed her for a one-off luxury tug. This got to her more than any physical assault or sophomore attempt at psychological torment and she did her best to quell those emotions.
“Aww, is she crying already?” said Vanessa, noticing a shine in Dayton’s eyes.
“Fuck you!” Dayton snapped.
“Fuck me?” said Vanessa. “Fuck me?!” Years of unjust imprisonment, humiliation and physical torment surged to the surface and she lunged at Dayton. Unbeknownst to her, those same years had subconsciously instilled a meticulous intuition formed out of experience, repetition and empathy – she grabbed a centimetre above the hips, wriggled her thumbs with the perfect amount of pressure into the tensed abdominals and Janine Dayton exploded into uncontrollable laughter.
Yuri stumbled back in surprise.
Growls of frustration melted as soon as they were mustered as Dayton swiftly realised she had no hope of resisting. She twisted violently to pull away from Vanessa’s grasp, tightening the leather strap at her neck. Pressure built in her forehead and she twisted back, coughing and learning never to try that again.
“Bad move!” said Vanessa with an undisguised vindictiveness.
Dayton gathered saliva in her mouth, ready to spit, when a bolt of sensation flew through her body from her feet to her brain – the defences were down. Vanessa’s attack on her hips meant that a simultaneous assault on her feet from Yuri was devastating. Eyes bulging, staring into space, she drew a breath that filled her lungs to capacity. For a several moments the world fell silent before a deafening eruption of maniacal laughter filled the huge dungeon.
CHAPTER IX
William McGunn was dealing with the aftermath of his own eruption. What he had just witnessed topped the ever-expanding list of the hottest things he had ever seen and, as he wiped himself dry, he was already contemplating a way to top it. Maybe by organising an even larger group of inmates to trap and tickle-torture Janine and a couple of the other sexy officers? Obviously, he would have Holbrook, Stone and Rashid lead the group–
…Rashid…
He looked back to the screen – Janine was utterly hysterical at the hands of Holbrook and Stone, but Farah Rashid was nowhere to be seen.
The office door squeaked open. McGunn rushed to cover himself and pull up his pants. “I thought I told you I would oversee–!” He stopped, open-mouthed to see Farah Rashid, dressed in Janine Dayton’s uniform, a semi-automatic machine gun in her hand and five more slung over her shoulder.
He looked back to the screens in disbelief. His custom-made tickle extravaganza was still in progress, but among the multitude of CCTV feeds three screens showed several guards, unconscious and zip-tied together. Farah was dripping with sweat.
“I can’t believe it worked,” said Farah, “but Vanessa was right: you are one tunnel-visioned son-of-a-bitch.”
McGunn looked to his gun, which lay in its holster over by the coffee machine.
“That’s too far,” said Farah calmly. “Especially with your pants round your goddamn ankles. How many bullets do you think I can put in you before you reach it?”
“What are you hoping to achieve here?” said McGunn.
“Freedom.”
“You mean freedom to go out into the world, get raped, shot and thrown into a ditch in five minutes flat?”
“It’s a risk,” said Farah, “but it’s my choice to risk it.”
“I’ve given you a safe space! You kill the officers who were protecting you?” he pointed to the screens.
Farah would have laughed if she wasn’t so incensed. “I didn’t kill them, I knocked them the hell out. And I don’t call being used as multiple fetishists’ sex slave ‘safety’, McGunn. Now, get out here.”
McGunn flushed with rage but he had no choice. He went to lift his underwear and trousers.
“Uh-uh!” said Farah. “You can walk along like that. It’ll take three times as long, but I don’t want you to attempt any heroics. You can bunny-hop down the stairwell.”
- - -
Initially Farah had tried to avert her eyes from McGunn’s penis, but noticing it bounce every time he hopped down a stair amused her and she was looking forward to her cellmates seeing the state he was in.
Once down the stairs they approached the dungeon door, behind which Dayton’s laughter had surpassed delirium. Farah swiped the deputy warden’s card and the door opened.
Vanessa and Yuri, who had been lost in the enjoyment of torturing Dayton, jumped as they were interrupted. Looks of surprise turned into gratification as they realised that their plan had worked – Farah had McGunn at gunpoint, pants round his ankles and flaccid penis that was so shrivelled with fear that it appeared to be attempting to retreat inside his body.
“Nicely done, girl!” said Vanessa.
Sweating and red with fury and the consequences of her torment, Dayton bawled at McGunn, “You two-timing, pathetic motherfucker!”
“Look, I’ll let you walk out of here, if that’s what you want,” said McGunn, ignoring Dayton.
“You know that’s what we want, Einstein,” said Farah. “It’s also what every other woman here wants.”
“They can’t all leave! I might have bent the rules a little in my favour, but all of these women are guilty of crimes and need to be incarcerated!”
The room fell quiet; the only sound being Dayton’s panting as she recovered from her ordeal. Vanessa stepped towards McGunn with tears welling in her eyes. “Tell me what I was ever guilty of,” she said.
“You kidnapped–”
Vanessa slugged him across the jaw and he dropped like a cloth puppet.
CHAPTER X
“Freeze!” yelled both corridor guards as they primed their weapons.
Farah, Vanessa and Yuri returned to their corridor in a very different way to which they had left just one hour earlier. Now they held semi-automatic machine guns and had Warden McGunn and Deputy Warden Dayton (who were dressed in just their underwear) as a human shield.
“Or what?” called McGunn to the guards. “You’ll shoot them through us? Lower your goddamn weapons!”
The women in the cells jumped to their feet and rushed to their cell doors as they realised what was happening. Cries to be set free rapidly built to a cacophony.
“Shut up!” yelled Farah as they edged down the corridor. They stopped outside the cell of Dulce Golino and a couple of her kitchen compadres who had attacked Farah in her first days at the prison – the time Vanessa saved her.
Dulce’s eyes locked on McGunn. As one of the most hypersensitive women in the prison, she was so eager to get revenge that she appeared to be willing to eat her way through the bars to get at him. Farah held up a bunch of key cards that she had taken from the unconscious guards. Dulce looked at her and said nothing. “If I let you out, will you do what we tell you?”
Dulce nodded.
“You’re forgetting something, Rashid,” said Dayton. “The warden’s lock. Without it, none of the doors in this prison will open.”
“You’re forgetting something, Janine,” Farah replied, “You’re boyfriend is such a mouth-breathing idiot that he didn’t turn the warden’s lock back on once you let us out!”
Dayton looked to McGunn, who lowered his head in shame.
Farah swiped the card and Dulce’s cell door opened.
Under Farah’s instruction, McGunn and Dayton were taken inside and zip-tied to the bunk beds. Outnumbered five-to-two, the corridor guards surrendered and were locked inside Vanessa and Farah’s old cell. Soon, every cell door was opened and the corridor was filled with prisoners.
Yuri could tell that Farah and Vanessa had no experience in leading crowds and so she got into character, stood tall and proud and took charge of the situation.
“Pay attention!” she announced as quietly as possible, “We have a plan, but it will only be a success if we all work together!”
The women listened as she laid out the strategy for the women to go corridor-by-corridor until all guards were overwhelmed and locked up—accumulating an arsenal as they went—and the prison was fully under their control.
“I will be in the mess hall. Any problems, you come find me! Let’s go!”
Dulce’s group were elected to be militia leaders – something for which they were naturally suited. Yuri adopted some of the fitter-looking prisoners to be her bodyguards, while Farah and Vanessa headed back up to the CCTV suite to oversee the operation. It went like clockwork, save for two corridor guards who thought they stood a chance against eleven determined women. Their last stand was over in seconds, although it did result in the deaths of two prisoners.
The noise attracted the attention of the perimeter guards, who decided to investigate. Fortunately, their movements were seen by Farah and Vanessa, who informed Yuri via the PO’s confiscated walkie-talkies. To Farah, watching the events on TV screens made the whole thing feel like a tacky 1990’s B-movie – when the perimeter guards entered, they were surrounded and disarmed by thirty topless women with guns.
The final part of the takeover was achieved with relative ease – the quarters of the overnight guards was stormed as they slept. They were marched out into the corridors and locked up. Ultimately, the number of guards meant that they were able to be placed in one cell each, with plenty to spare.
With the task complete, all prisoners congregated in the mess hall. The main topic of conversation seemed to be what happens now? As Farah, Vanessa and Yuri hadn’t discussed this part of the plan themselves, Yuri stood on top of a table and improvised an announcement. As she spoke, the crowd quietened to hear what she had to say.
“Ladies! Ladies! Congratulations! You have reclaimed your freedom!”
A deafening cheer. Several rounds of machine gun fire were even let off in celebration, until showers of ceiling plaster suggested it wasn’t such a good idea.
“Many of you wouldn’t be blamed for thinking this day might never come and, if it did, you didn’t expect it to be in the middle of a civil war. For the number of women here, there are probably an equal number of plans as to what to do next, but to simplify things I will suggest two categories – those who want to leave and those who want to stay.
“For those who want to leave, I say good luck. I suggest you leave together as the land outside is more dangerous than ever before. And I urge you—whatever has befallen your friends and families; God willing, they are all safe—do not fall into the trap of hating your neighbours. We have just proven what we can do if we work together, rather than fight!
“As for those who want to stay, I will be here…”
Farah and Vanessa reacted, but weren’t surprised.
“We may have entered this place against our will, but so far it has provided us with protection from the war. If we continue to be smart and work together we can learn from our captors and survive until the war comes to an end.
“Please take the time to consider which route you would like to choose. I do not assume the title of leader, but if you wish it, I will take charge until the war is over.”
The speech was greeted with whoops and applause.
Farah helped Yuri step down from her parapet.
“Are you sure you want to stay?” asked Vanessa.
“Are you both sure you don’t want to?” replied Yuri.
“I don’t have a choice,” said Farah. “You know that. And I can’t wait around for a group consensus.”
Yuri indicated that Farah should make her own speech. Farah climbed aboard the table.
“Excuse me! Ladies!”
The chatter subdued.
“Er… you may not know me, but I need to leave immediately. I’m heading to Texas and I can’t wait. If any of you know you want to leave and you’re heading that way, I’ll be in the courtyard in ten minutes. Like Yuri said, we’ll be safer together. That’s all.”
Farah stepped down and looked to Vanessa. “Are you coming?”
“May as well. Although I’m going to New York to find my sister.”
Yuri held out her hand. “Good luck to you both, my dears.”
Vanessa took her hand. “You too, Yuri. And thank you.”
“We three did it together,” said Yuri. “Remember that.”
CHAPTER XI
Yuri returned to cell where McGunn and Dayton were zip-tied to the same bunk bed. The women who were guarding them had taken the time to cuff their feet outside the bars of the cell in the same way that had been regularly done to the inmates on inspection days.
“It’s done,” she said. “The prison is now in our hands and the women have chosen me to be their leader until the war is over.”
“You idiots!” said McGunn. “How can you hope to control and organise an entire building of whores and scumbags?”
“By giving them what they need and treating them with respect,” Yuri replied calmly.
McGunn snickered. “Good luck with that. You have no idea how to run this place – keep the water and electricity running or get food and supplies. You’ll be begging me to help you by the weekend.”
“It’s true – you are more experienced than most of the people in this building when it comes to that–”
“All the people in this building!” he interrupted.
“Not quite,” said Dayton from the lower bunk.
“What are you talking about?” said McGunn.
“I know how this place runs too.”
“So what? We’re in this together!”
“Like we were in it together when you bargained to have three prisoners strip, torture and humiliate me earlier today?!”
“That’s because I fancy you–”
“Don’t give me that horseshit!” she snapped. “You wanted your own specially-cultivated fantasy to come true because you’ve spent your whole life watching tickle porn and getting everything you want, so now you can’t get a hard-on unless there’s something new and novel to flick the switch in your tiny closed mind!”
Yuri smiled. “So you’ll help us, Miss Dayton?”
“Call me Janine.”
“Of course.”
Just then Dulce arrived with her kitchen cohorts, each of them carrying a mop bucket. They backed Yuri in silence. McGunn could do nothing but look through the bars and between his feet at the women standing before him; women who he had revelled in torturing beyond their ability to cope countless times.
“What do you want?” he asked defiantly.
“We need to illustrate something to Janine,” said Yuri.
McGunn smiled.
“What!? Why me? I said I’d work with you!” said Dayton.
“You did. And I want to work with you too, but I don’t underestimate your abilities and I don’t trust you yet. So, to ensure you don’t get any ideas about trying to undermine us and seizing back control, I’ve decided to demonstrate what will happen if you do.”
“No!” Dayton cried. “No more tickling today!”
“We ain’t gonna tickle you,” said Dulce as she stepped forward, her eyes on McGunn’s large feet. “We’re gonna show you how you’ll pay if you fuck up.”
McGunn’s felt his mouth go dry. Dulce pulled a sponge from her bucket and squeezed soapy water over his soles. They were going to make an example of him – they were going to tickle him! His mind sparkled to life and he recalled fantasies he used to have long ago at the idea of a harem of women who would tickle him for fun on a daily basis. His tummy flipped at the idea; this was a whole new outlook on things and he loved it. He also loved that Dulce, the pretty young Italian-American girl, was going to be the first to take revenge in him.
His voice shook as he said the words that fed into his fantasy: “Please. Please don’t tickle me. I’m too ticklish…”
The women reacted with disgust, not least because as he spoke his penis twitched and started to grow.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Yuri and she walked away, accompanied by her bodyguards.
Dulce and one of the other women reached into their buckets and pulled something out. McGunn watched, excited as the suds dripped down to reveal wooden brush handles. He rested his head in preparation – brushes plus lubrication was the most intense type of tickling he knew, and he had never experienced it himself. He couldn’t wait to feel the ticklish sensations and to hear himself laughing helplessly at the hands of these sexy young women.
“Hey, Mr Ticklish…” said Dulce.
McGunn had a practiced fear in his eyes as he looked up. Both women were positioned at his feet. Then he noticed something glimmer in the harsh lights of the corridor – the brushes they were holding had steel bristles. His faux expression changed into one of genuine terror.
Dulce smirked. “This ain’t gonna tickle.”
CHAPTER XII
Farah and Vanessa winced in the sunlight. It was liberating and scary to be outside for the first time in so long.
A hint of gunpowder flavoured the air and a haze of smoke covered the horizon in every direction. Newly appointed sentries took up their posts and a surprisingly small number of former inmates arrived in the courtyard, ready to leave.
The main gate buzzed open. Farah turned to make sure everyone was with them and found Vanessa, hesitating, looking back at the prison.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Vanessa. “Just… saying goodbye to routine. Who the hell knows what’s gonna happen next?”
The small ragtag band of women headed up the road. Amid the chaotic sounds that echoed on the breeze, from the newly liberated women’s prison came the agonising screams of one man.
To be continued…
