This is my first attempt at writing a story, so please be gentle. It's a recurring fantasy of mine. Hope you like.
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Part 1
Some time in the early 1900's, in the deep South. I have escaped from a prison and have been running through woods, being chased by men and dogs. At last I come to a river and swim across it. On the other side I continue to run without slowing, although the barking fades behind me.
Soon I encounter a house. Still in a panic, I lift the bulkhead door and run into the basement, locking it behind me. Alone, in the dark, I find a chair and sit. After a while I calm down - my breathing slows and becomes normal.
Suddenly, a woman's voice: "Who's that?" I look for a place to hide, but it's too late - a light goes on. I see a blonde woman in her 30's at the bottom of the stairs. She has wide hips and apparently large breasts, wearing a frilly dress that shows some cleavage.
I abruptly stand. I'm still wearing my prison uniform, and she looks at me alarmed, then angry.
"Well?", she asks.
I am speechless. At last she sighs.
"Alright, if you want to hide here, at least get out of that uniform so I can burn it."
"But.." I say, suddenly remembering that I'm nude under it.
"I said, get out of that uniform. We don't need that kind of trouble when the police come here."
Feeling very vulnerable, I strip off the black and white striped outfit and stand there before her. She takes it from my hand and looks me over.
"Take a shower - you need one," she says.
I hadn't noticed the shower stall in the far corner. I walk to it - knowing that she is watching me from behind as I cross the room. Fortunately, the water is warm and there's plenty of shampoo and soap. It feels great to be clean again.
When I get out of the stall, she's still there, again looking me over. After about ten seconds, she tosses me a towel.
"I'm going to get rid of this", she says, holding the dirty uniform, "and buy you some more clothes. In the mean time I don't want you panicking and running away, so.."
She grabs my left wrist, pulls me across the room to a cot, reaches into a pocket and handcuffs me to a pipe next to it that goes straight from the floor to the ceiling. I sit on the cot, trying to relax in this new, unexpected situation.
"There", she says. She walks away, takes a foot up the steps, then pauses and looks back at me.
"Wait a minute. You escaped from a prison. I bet you could find a way out of that handcuff."
Off the step she comes, opens a drawer and pulls out some stockings.
"Lie on your back like this," (she poses) "with your hands way above your head."
"Do...do I have to?" I ask.
"If you don't want me to call the police right now, you have to do whatever I say."
The thought of going back to the prison is enough for me to quickly obey. She ties me up - feet at the bottom of the cot and free hand now tightly above my head. She steps back to take a look.
Then - smiling - she reaches for my right foot and begins to lightly scratch the bottom. I try to pull it away but her knots hold it in place.
"Hee hee..stop that.." I say.
Eventually, she does.
"Yes, that should hold you for a while," she says grinning, then she climbs the stairs and disappears. I close my eyes and again try to calm down, wondering if I picked the wrong house. Eventually I fall asleep - the cot is soft, the room is dark, and it's been a long morning.
Part 2
I awake to the sound of running water. Someone else is using the shower. I can't see into it, but I hear a young woman singing.
The water stops and she emerges. She is in her 20's, slim with red head. Oddly, she doesn't notice me as she dries herself with a towel, then picks up a plastic bottle and begins to apply oil to herself. Her starts with her feet then goes upwards. After she's covered every inch of her body, she wraps the towel around herself and finally looks in my direction - and gasps.
"Who are you?" She asks, her blues eyes wide open.
"My...my name is...Bill", I lie.
She - like her blonde housemate before her - looks me over. The towel still covers my midsection.
"And what are you doing here?" she demands.
"Um, I.." I don't know what to say. How many people can be trusted to know that I'm a prison escapee?
"I...can't say," I finally plead.
"Oh really", she says, calmly.
She smiles, walks up to the cot, reaches for my towel and starts to gently tug.
"And why not?"
I deliberately press my butt down into the cot, holding the towel in place, more or less.
"Well..." I say.
She then extends a finger from her free hand and places it on my belly. I gasp - she grins widely. There is a silent moment as we look into each other's eyes - mine filled with fear and hers with joy.
"Well what?" she asks, as she starts to slowly move her finger in a circle.
I turn my head to look away, hiding my face into one of my upstretched arms, trying to hold in giggles.
Still I refuse to speak. Her finger begins to roam, very slowly and lightly up my side, then down again, then up... My body begins to flop - a little like a fish out of water. Slowly the towel is slipping from me.
"Stop..hee hee...stop that.." I say.
But her finger keeps moving, now all the way up my arm, then down, down to my hip, then all the way up...
Eventually I open my eyes and am surprised to see her face only inches from mine.
"You know", she whispers, "I could do this all day."
"No, hee..please..hee.."
"Or maybe this," she says, as she begins to lightly scratch my ribs with her long nails.
"Oh god, hee hee.." I say, breathing heavily and tugging at the nylons with all my might.
Her hand keeps scratching, moving from my side, to my belly, up my chest, under my arm, down to my side, and around and around again.
"Kootchie kootchie koo.." she sings, continuing to scratch without pause, as my body flopping gets more wild.
Finally the towel slips away. She looks down at me. I am obviously aroused.
"Oh my", she says, smiling larger than life.
She drops the towel, then - to my alarm - she begins to gently brush her oily fingers up and down my ----. I moan.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?"
I breathe heavily as I look into her deep blue eyes. They hypnotize me. I can't speak.
"Very well", she says.
Her free hand reaches back to my side - just under the armpit. She places her lips right up to my ear, begins to wiggle her fingernails and softly whispers, "tickle tickle tickle..."
---------------------------
In Part 3 (which is still only in my mind) I finally confess to the redhead why I was in prison: I'm the peeping tom who has been spying on all the young women of the county, including her. So she decides to torment me with a striptease. Not sure exactly what happens after that..
-------------------------------------
Part 1
Some time in the early 1900's, in the deep South. I have escaped from a prison and have been running through woods, being chased by men and dogs. At last I come to a river and swim across it. On the other side I continue to run without slowing, although the barking fades behind me.
Soon I encounter a house. Still in a panic, I lift the bulkhead door and run into the basement, locking it behind me. Alone, in the dark, I find a chair and sit. After a while I calm down - my breathing slows and becomes normal.
Suddenly, a woman's voice: "Who's that?" I look for a place to hide, but it's too late - a light goes on. I see a blonde woman in her 30's at the bottom of the stairs. She has wide hips and apparently large breasts, wearing a frilly dress that shows some cleavage.
I abruptly stand. I'm still wearing my prison uniform, and she looks at me alarmed, then angry.
"Well?", she asks.
I am speechless. At last she sighs.
"Alright, if you want to hide here, at least get out of that uniform so I can burn it."
"But.." I say, suddenly remembering that I'm nude under it.
"I said, get out of that uniform. We don't need that kind of trouble when the police come here."
Feeling very vulnerable, I strip off the black and white striped outfit and stand there before her. She takes it from my hand and looks me over.
"Take a shower - you need one," she says.
I hadn't noticed the shower stall in the far corner. I walk to it - knowing that she is watching me from behind as I cross the room. Fortunately, the water is warm and there's plenty of shampoo and soap. It feels great to be clean again.
When I get out of the stall, she's still there, again looking me over. After about ten seconds, she tosses me a towel.
"I'm going to get rid of this", she says, holding the dirty uniform, "and buy you some more clothes. In the mean time I don't want you panicking and running away, so.."
She grabs my left wrist, pulls me across the room to a cot, reaches into a pocket and handcuffs me to a pipe next to it that goes straight from the floor to the ceiling. I sit on the cot, trying to relax in this new, unexpected situation.
"There", she says. She walks away, takes a foot up the steps, then pauses and looks back at me.
"Wait a minute. You escaped from a prison. I bet you could find a way out of that handcuff."
Off the step she comes, opens a drawer and pulls out some stockings.
"Lie on your back like this," (she poses) "with your hands way above your head."
"Do...do I have to?" I ask.
"If you don't want me to call the police right now, you have to do whatever I say."
The thought of going back to the prison is enough for me to quickly obey. She ties me up - feet at the bottom of the cot and free hand now tightly above my head. She steps back to take a look.
Then - smiling - she reaches for my right foot and begins to lightly scratch the bottom. I try to pull it away but her knots hold it in place.
"Hee hee..stop that.." I say.
Eventually, she does.
"Yes, that should hold you for a while," she says grinning, then she climbs the stairs and disappears. I close my eyes and again try to calm down, wondering if I picked the wrong house. Eventually I fall asleep - the cot is soft, the room is dark, and it's been a long morning.
Part 2
I awake to the sound of running water. Someone else is using the shower. I can't see into it, but I hear a young woman singing.
The water stops and she emerges. She is in her 20's, slim with red head. Oddly, she doesn't notice me as she dries herself with a towel, then picks up a plastic bottle and begins to apply oil to herself. Her starts with her feet then goes upwards. After she's covered every inch of her body, she wraps the towel around herself and finally looks in my direction - and gasps.
"Who are you?" She asks, her blues eyes wide open.
"My...my name is...Bill", I lie.
She - like her blonde housemate before her - looks me over. The towel still covers my midsection.
"And what are you doing here?" she demands.
"Um, I.." I don't know what to say. How many people can be trusted to know that I'm a prison escapee?
"I...can't say," I finally plead.
"Oh really", she says, calmly.
She smiles, walks up to the cot, reaches for my towel and starts to gently tug.
"And why not?"
I deliberately press my butt down into the cot, holding the towel in place, more or less.
"Well..." I say.
She then extends a finger from her free hand and places it on my belly. I gasp - she grins widely. There is a silent moment as we look into each other's eyes - mine filled with fear and hers with joy.
"Well what?" she asks, as she starts to slowly move her finger in a circle.
I turn my head to look away, hiding my face into one of my upstretched arms, trying to hold in giggles.
Still I refuse to speak. Her finger begins to roam, very slowly and lightly up my side, then down again, then up... My body begins to flop - a little like a fish out of water. Slowly the towel is slipping from me.
"Stop..hee hee...stop that.." I say.
But her finger keeps moving, now all the way up my arm, then down, down to my hip, then all the way up...
Eventually I open my eyes and am surprised to see her face only inches from mine.
"You know", she whispers, "I could do this all day."
"No, hee..please..hee.."
"Or maybe this," she says, as she begins to lightly scratch my ribs with her long nails.
"Oh god, hee hee.." I say, breathing heavily and tugging at the nylons with all my might.
Her hand keeps scratching, moving from my side, to my belly, up my chest, under my arm, down to my side, and around and around again.
"Kootchie kootchie koo.." she sings, continuing to scratch without pause, as my body flopping gets more wild.
Finally the towel slips away. She looks down at me. I am obviously aroused.
"Oh my", she says, smiling larger than life.
She drops the towel, then - to my alarm - she begins to gently brush her oily fingers up and down my ----. I moan.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?"
I breathe heavily as I look into her deep blue eyes. They hypnotize me. I can't speak.
"Very well", she says.
Her free hand reaches back to my side - just under the armpit. She places her lips right up to my ear, begins to wiggle her fingernails and softly whispers, "tickle tickle tickle..."
---------------------------
In Part 3 (which is still only in my mind) I finally confess to the redhead why I was in prison: I'm the peeping tom who has been spying on all the young women of the county, including her. So she decides to torment me with a striptease. Not sure exactly what happens after that..