Room 301, Do you want revenge? +/f non-con part II

[Chris31]

Room 301, Do you want revenge? +/f non-con part II


Back-story- claire is extremely smart. She has an IQ of 120 and is studying journalism, currently in her second year at college. To help pay for things she took a part-time job at a local newspaper writing puns for comics. She’s a seemingly perfect 20 year old on the surface, yet beneath her benevolent veil lurks a sinister secret… one that will inevitably bring her to Brandi’s Hotel, Room 301.


Do you want revenge? Maybe you want to teach someone a lesson? But you don’t want any harm to come to them? We have a discrete and legal way to get your point across at Brandi’s Hotel!

Maybe a significant other cheated on you and you want to see them squirm… Maybe somebody owes you money and you want them to be punished for not paying up… Whatever the case, Brandi’s Hotel provides a safe and effective method of getting the job done! Just book your “friend” a room at Brandi’s Hotel and request “Room 301.” Upon making your request, you will be asked to answer a few questions about the party involved and any health conditions they may have. Once your answers are submitted, the appointment will be set and so will your revenge.

“Room 301” is usually flat-rate $1,000.00 per night, subject to terms and conditions, terms may vary, extra fees may apply. ~Handled with Extreme Discretion~

*Brandi’s Hotel and Brandi’s Hotel Associates are not responsible if your party chooses not to comply. It is better to use tact than force, if you catch our drift…


The sun was an orange teardrop against a cascade of bright red and pink. The cold air had only gotten colder as the months moved on… autumn turned into winter while the last of the green faded to brown, then to white. Frost built up on windows and snow gently peppered the streets and parking lots. The old building still stood, its rickety sign that said “Brandi’s Ho el” hung like a sad reminder of its past glory. This once thriving place of convalescence had been reduced to a dilapidated, boarded-up husk and a ghostly parking lot. it was abandoned, now, and nobody would walk its halls or occupy its rooms…

“…yet at night, if you look through the windows to the lobby, some people say there’s a dim glow that comes from the receptionist’s desk…”

“shup up, I don’t like that one,” shelly turned the dial to the car-radio, slowly clicking through the low static and gospel.

claire looked over with a grin, “why?” she coasted her little sedan up to the red-light at the intersection before glancing again at her friend in the passenger seat, “a bit too real for you?”

“it is literally a real hotel in this city…” she continued to skip through random stations.

claire, still grinning, purred, “I know..”

frustrated with the radio, shelly finally clicked it off and huffed, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” claire put her eyes back on the road as the light turned green and they rolled off.

“claire?” they drove on in silence for a minute. shelly cracked her window and breathed in the frigid night air. It was spicy yet brisk, and the smell of chimneys and wood-burning-ovens flooded her cold little nose. She licked her index finger and pulled out a cigarette from her pack. it dangled from her bottom lip as she fumbled around for a lighter. Once equipped, she rolled her thumb down the coarse strip a few times to give it a spark. But as the flame lit up the car’s interior, claire erupted in protest, “fuck, shelly, not in the jetta!”

“ah, fine!” shelly didn’t need a cigarette, she was just bored. They’d been driving for an hour without claire explaining the finer details of their endeavors, which was only due to their sheer lack of attention-span. What had brought them on this lengthy car ride was a mysterious note; shelly knew that much. claire, while handling some mail for the newspaper, stumbled upon an envelope addressed to “you.” she opened the envelope immediately and found a red piece of construction paper. In pink cut-out letters it said, “info on Emily. Brandi’s hotel. Room 301. Smith account.” This was interesting to claire for many reasons.

“Emily” was seemingly referring to Emily Carter who was a missing person back in November. Her case was particularly strange because she turned up ten days later. Apparently she had some kind of a mental break and ended up in a hospital. But there were more details that made this case really stand out. one detail was that she disappeared on Halloween night. And if that weren’t strange enough, nobody could account for where she had gone for the ten days she was missing. There were no witnesses that saw her out wandering around and no way to tell how she survived for over a week alone, suffering from a mental psychosis. The whole story was a mystery and full of holes and suspicion. So obviously when claire found that note in the mail at her local newspaper, her heart sank! This was an informant! This was her chance to learn the truth! To finally write something more meaningful than a pun in the “funnies” section! This was her big story!

And shelly was like her gooey-eyed sidekick. she had wanted to be a journalist since she was 5 years old when she told her parents that one day she would write the whole newspaper by herself. Ever since then, shelly idolized names like Hearst, Bernstein, Woodward, Cronkite… before eventually finding hunter s Thompson and reaching her “gonzo” phase. She settled down her gonzoness after high school and got a job at a local newspaper writing obituaries, which is where she met claire. claire was highly motivated, extremely smart, interested in journalism, and very sexually attractive. shelly all but fell in love. She looked up to claire and yearned for her approval and attention. Whatever claire was a part of, shelly would soon be joining.

which is how she found herself sitting in the passenger seat of this jetta, bored, scrolling through white-noise and Baptist preachers. Then finally, through the static, a song! They quieted down to hear what it was. The slow, three chord piano march only lasted a second before the words “turn around…” followed by the tune we all know and love… it was bonnie tyler, total eclipse of the heart.

“haha, eww! What is this shit?” claire laughed.

“dude, I duno, want me to turn it off?” both girls looked at each other with scowls.

four minutes later they had tears streaming down their eyes as they sang at the top of their lungs, “once upon a time I was falling in looooooove, but now I’m only falling apaaaaaaart…”

claire pulled the car to an abrupt stop and pulled the keys which cut the radio just before the lyrics could finish. “we’re here!”

shelly frowned, “I was actually enjoying that…”

“boooo that song sucks!”

“I… thought you were enjoying it, too,” shelly looked legitimately hurt. she got out and closed the passenger-side door, still pouting in an animated fashion when she noticed claire staring at the hotel. she turned to face it. as soon as her eyes made contact with the eerie sight it was understood. They both just stared in silence.

“its… so… old!” claire finally spoke.

“is it structurally stable?”

claire pulled out her phone and switched on the flashlight, “we’re about to find out…”

shelly couldn’t have been wearing a bigger frown, “what if it’s the guy who kidnapped Emily Carter?”

“why would they risk getting caught?”

“I just think if this were legit, it would be in a proper meeting-place. Like somewhere in public, where the contact would feel safe. This just feels… I duno… sketch?”

“investigative journalism is supposed to be a little sketchy!”

“okay then, Sherlock-claire,” she said in a mocking british accent, “provide me with your deepest insights as to why there’s not a single car in this parking lot…”

claire ignored the question as she carelessly walked past her friend towards the hotel. shelly, realizing she was about to be left behind, decided to follow-suit. “wait,” she called after her, “there’s no cars! Hey wait…”

The two girls wandered into the lobby and somehow the atmosphere didn’t change; they felt like they were still outside, exposed to the frigid elements of nature. Claire shined her phone-light at the walls to illuminate what was left of the faded décor, water logged and stained by time and weather. The phone-light reflected off of the glass of the windows and gradually moved along with them as they walked. the journalists approached the receptionist desk with the intention of moving beyond it. they wanted to reach the stairs so they could further explore the rooms in the building.

but just then, Claire orderd, “stop, turn your light off…”

“uh, miss me with that spooky shit, ight?”

“no really! Look!” Claire held her phone up for shelly to see as she clicked her phone-light off. It seemingly made no difference at all to the lighting in the room. Shelly looked confused, until she clicked her light off, and realized the light was coming from a small lamp on the receptionist desk.

claire broke into an evil smile. “they have electricity!”

shelly let out a squeal of excitement, “ooo! I wonder if they have plumbing… I wanna take a bath!”

“you would,” Claire said dryly, “you have an entire abandoned hotel and your disposal and you wanna take a bath!”

just then a shadow behind the receptionist counter moved and both girls froze. It was like a natural reaction to stop breathing at the sight of an actual person, a tall blonde lady dressed all in red appeared as Claire let out an involuntary, “oh fuck!”

“the hotel isn’t abandoned, young lady! And it’s certainly not ‘at your disposal!’”

“oh shit, I’m sorry! We’re sorry! We thought…” Claire began to stumble over her words. For as smart as she was, she wasn’t always that good with people.

“we apologize, ma’am. Thanks, we… we’ll be on our way…” shelly notified the receptionist.

“very well, then. Pleasant evening…”

“…wait,” Claire fumbled her hands nervously in her hoodie pockets, “we, uh… received a note…”

shelly raised an eyebrow as she watched her friend carefully. ‘what are you doing?’ she thought to herself. The receptionist just stared blankly and frowned. There was a long pause of awkward silence before it was finally broken.

“…are you going to finish your sentence, young lady?” the receptionist queried.

“so we uh… so the note said to uh… meet us… at this hotel…” Claire wasn’t sure why this lady made her so nervous, but for some reason she was having trouble gathering her thoughts properly.

the receptionist just glared back. In a deadpan tone she hummed, “I believe you,” before turning to walk away.

“no wait! there’s more! It’s…” Claire pulled the note from her hoodie pocket and held it out to the tall lady, “it’s about a kidnapping. We have a possible witness…”

the receptionist turned back around and glanced quickly down at the note. “this doesn’t sound like it concerns me,” she said before connecting eyes with Claire, “and it certainly doesn’t concern the two of you. now I suggest you take your friend home…” the creepy blonde turned to shelly, “and I suggest you let her take you.”

shelly spoke up, “did you even look at the note? It has everything! Even an account name! what else do you want?”

the receptionist glared in anger, “i…”

she was cut off when shelly began again, “no, this is a hotel! You provide a service! So provide your fucking service and take us to room 301!”

the receptionist just stared blankly for a second before regaining her composure. Her eyebrows settled and she let a smile creep back over her chapped lips. “…my apologies. Room 301 is what we’ve labeled our basement. You’ll have to take the elevators as its non-accessible by stairs. If you’ll just follow me…”

Claire looked stunned. “heh, god damn, girl, I’m impressed!” shelly heard that and started glowing.

they followed the spooky old lady in red down a small hallway to where they had a single elevator car. She opened the doors manually and allowed her passengers to step on board.

shelly looked at Claire. They had a moment when their eyes connected, their minds, their fears and anxieties, their excitements and pleasures seemed to blend. Shelly was in heaven. She was basking in claire’s essence and nothing could destroy this beautiful moment in time!

the elevator was cut loose and free-fell a single story until it crashed at the basement level. The impact left the two college girls bruised and shaken up pretty bad.

at first, the doors were sealed shut and Claire had to use her car-keys to pry them open. They coughed and wheezed in the dust as they exited the busted elevator car, limping out into the florescent white hallway.

“you okay? Let me see it,” shelly instructed as her friend hobbled forward and they both sat down on the crisp tile floors. Claire carefully leaned forward to untie her shoe but started wincing in pain at a muscle in her back.

“it’s okay, I got you,” shelly shuffled around and put her friends feet in her lap. She untied the sneaker and slowly lifted it off. Claire’s feet had been sweating profusely and as the shoe came off, shelly was hit with a sweet but pungent odor that almost knocked her back. To anyone else, this would have been disgusting. But shelly kind of liked that odor, especially coming from the angel-feet of her crush. Her socks had a tight fit and caressed her cute, perfectly shaped foot in a way that made shelly wish she were that sock.

“it’s… a cramp or something?” Claire winced in paid again as she tried to move her foot. Shelly started massaging her ankle and the bottom parts of her leg, but Claire directed her, “no, do the whole foot, yes, like… that… yes…” shelly was silently erupting with ecstasy, she felt her clitoris phantom-tingle as her hands slid over the arches of those damp, pink little socks, gently massaging her dream-feet. there was a slight twitch and her foot recovered it’s mobility. “ah, that’s… omg that’s so much better…” Claire leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief as she rolled her foot around on her ankle, “ah, there we go…”

Shelly didn’t want this moment to be over. She wanted to sit there all day with those feet. She wanted to leisurely peel her socks off. She wanted… well… she knew she had to play it off as if she hadn’t just almost been brought to a hands-free-orgasm. She looked up at Claire shyly, “that a bit better?”

“it feels soooo much better, thank you!” she said as she wiggled her toes in her socks, “here, just slip my shoe back on…” she dangled her foot up near shellys face, who was just about having a heart attack as she melted into her libido.

“sure thing,” she said as her inner soul screamed into the abyss. She picked up the sneaker. Her hands were shaking. She looked at the gorgeous socked foot and gulped. She accidently glanced at Claire who was looking back smiling. “hehe, what?” she squeaked playfully. Shelly literally almost came in that moment. This was teasing her so bad that she was ready to burst out into tears. She smiled sheepishly and looked down at the floor while gently slipping on her sneaker. But as she did, she just couldn’t help let one finger drag along claires foot, from the middle down to the heel. She had to! Just that once!

claires face twisted into a mixed expression of shock and terror as she squealed and jumped back.

“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!”

“…eeeeeeeeeeeeek… eeeeeeeeeek… eeeeeeeek…” her scream echoed down the hallway.

the silence weighed in against the volume of her shriek and claire looked at her friend in total shock, “NO!” she scolded as if shelly were a puppy.

“hehe, it was an accident, I’m sorry!” shelly giggled, “are you really that ticklish?”

“drop it, let’s move on. We need to find our contact,” Claire used the wall to brace herself as she stood, wiping off the rest of the dust from her pants. She stretched her back muscles and took a few steps to make sure everything was back to normal. Shelly sprang to her feet, eager to follow. The hallway ended at two large double doors. They stared them down in ominous anticipation.

“you think he’s in there?” shelly asked.

“only one way to find out…” claire and shelly walked down the hallway as the florescent lights buzzed, glancing at each other occasionally for reassurance. But as they got close, the double doors opened. Two tall men wearing black suits with black ski masks stood, holding the doors as if servants to royalty. The two journalists froze in shock, not sure how to proceed.

“wha? …or… hello? Um…” claire cleared her throat as she tried to communicate, “are you? uh… we’re looking for smith. He’s… he sent us a note…” she began to dig in her hoodie pocket but shelly stopped her, “I think they’re just security…”

“are you guys security?” the two men were silent and stoic as they held the double doors open.

“okay so, maybe security? Definitely ass holes…”

“Claire, be nice! Maybe it’s like that thing with the british guards, like, how they can’t interact?”

“whatever, ass holes…” Claire held up both middle fingers to the guards as they walked through the double doors into the next room. As the girls walked past, one guard looked over at the other. Just a simple head-nod. The double doors closed behind them and they heard latches being locked into place.

“hey! Wait! what the fuck!!” shelly shouted as she turned around to see the doors slam shut.

“settle down,” Claire reassured, “they’re just ass holes.”

“no, I don’t like this, Claire… I feel trapped… I think I’m freaking out…” Claire just ignored her friend and began to let her eyes explore the room. The architecture was in contrast to everything they’d seen so far, it was like a coliseum yet much, much smaller. the whole room was a circle and in the middle stood a chrome restraining-table. many leather straps hung down from the sides, even one strap at the head-rest. And at the foot, there were two metal clamps for holding feet in place.

Claire’s heart jumped at the sight. “oh shit! look at that thing!” she gasped in amazement and slowly walked in its direction. Shelly was still concentrated on the door being locked. she was mumbling to herself as she kept her eyes on the door handle, “no, no, no, no… I don’t like this…”

when she finally glanced back at her friend and caught sight of the evil contraption, she thought to herself that there was no way in hell she would ever be strapped to that thing. There’s nobody and nothing that could get her to do that. The thought of the utter cruelty of it burned into her memories.

Claire approached the table-of-horrors and let her hand reach out as she gently touched the cold metal. It was coarse and frigid and made her tense up a bit, inside. “wow” she thought to herself, “you would be completely immobilized…” her eyes landed at the other end where there were two metal foot-clamps. “shit, they even hold your feet in place! This thing is horrifying!” Claire turned back around to check on her friend, “you done freakin out yet?”

“I uh, I don’t feel good…” shelly looked uncomfortable at best as she fidgeted with her phone, “and I can’t get a signal…”

“you’re such a baby…” it was then that Claire felt what shelly meant by “I don’t feel good,” as a light flutter ran up her spine. She felt woozy and a bit light-headed, but it was almost too subtle to notice and she probably wouldn’t have felt it if shelly hadn’t said that. She wondered why they might both be feeling the same symptoms. But before she could wonder any longer, the symptoms elevated so quickly and so strong that both girls became faint and passed out on the hard concrete floor.

shelly jumped awake, twitching with fear and anxiety. She immediately tried to move and was met with a very sobering reality; she wasn’t going anywhere. Her worst fear had come true. Shelly was strapped down, completely immobile and exposed. She had been stripped down to her little pink panties and matching bra, and her soft, smooth skin was shivering in the brisk basement-air.

“no! no! no! no! no!” she started trying to shake in her bondage to no avail, no movement was possible as her heart rate began to fly out of control. “fuck this! heeeeeeelllp!!”

“shelly? you awake?” Claire was on the floor with her hands loosely tied to a metal anchor that was cemented to the ground. She had already gotten one wrist free and was working fiercely on the other when she heard her friend’s calls for help. “hold on, I’m almost free!” the last knot came out and she loosened the strings, sliding her wrist from its grip. “okay, hold on!” she ran over to shelly who couldn’t even move her head to acknowledge her. “holy shit!”

claires comments weren’t helping shelly’s anxiety as she trembled with fear, “yea, holy shit, now get me the fuck out of here!”

“okay, let me think…”

“think about what?! Fucking… un-do the straps!!”

“they’re… complex, shelly. Chill for minute, I gotta figure it out…”

“did you just say chill? What the fuck?” shelly was starting to really panic.

“okay, so… it looks like the main straps around your wrists and ankles are bolted in and locked. And unfortunately, they’re not combo-locks…” Claire lamented as she pretended not to be intrigued by this brilliant contraption.

“what the fuck?!”

“it means I need a key to…”

“I know! Fuck! Get me out of this!”

“that’s the goal, shelly, just calm down…”

shelly tried to ball her hands into fists but realized that each one of her fingers were individually tethered to the table, stretching out and exposing her palms. Her feet were displayed in a similar fashion in the clamps, tethering her little toes back, and stretching and exposing her soft, pink arches. She closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath. Just relax. Just relax.

“should I, like, go find the key?” Claire suggested.

“no!!! don’t leave me!” shelly screamed, eyes bulging, twitching her muscles to no avail.

“okay, okay, relax. I’m right here…”

Just then, a door behind them opened. an older man and women, followed by about 15 security guards in black suits and ski masks poured in. The security guards took the perimeter while the old couple casually approached the two journalists.

the old man spoke, “how’d you get free?” he said raising an eyebrow at Claire.

the lady turned to her husband, “you’re losing your touch, old man!”

Claire just stood there frozen, unable to really make a move. we’re caught. we’re done for.

the man addressed claire, “do you know why you’re here today?”

“I’m…” she choked up her public-speaking voice to try and sound calm, “we’re here meeting a contact named smith…”

the old lady let out a loud cackle, “hear that? her contact’s name is smith,” her smirk was evil and mischievous, but the man didn’t seem to reciprocate. He just stared at his captives with sad, almost blank eyes.

“whats so funny? He may be a witness…” Claire felt like she had to keep her journalist persona. She had to stay professional even though she knew she had no idea what she was doing.

“Claire, Claire, claire…” Catherine sang as she slowly circled her prey, “let’s get introductions sorted…” the old lady meandered slowly around the table as she spoke, “I’m Catherine and this is my hansom husband Bernie. We punish people. Its our job. People will pay a lot of money to know that somebody suffered. And we specialize in making people suffer… without leaving any marks, of course.”

Claire was still frozen with fear, now even more so. This was about the moment she realized she might be in over her head. She glanced at shelly’s worried face, and then looked back at the old couple.

“you see,” catherine continued her rant, “you think smith is the name of your contact, which is just oh so cute! But smith is actually our client. They’ve lured you to us, and now it’s our job to punish you.”

“I don’t even know a smith! This makes no sense…” claire raised an eyebrow, “and if I’m your client’s target, then why is my friend the one on your table?”

the old man finally grinned as he looked at his wife, “she is smart, isn’t she?”

“here’s the thing,” Catherine weighed in, “our last clients paid us… substantially! Like, to the point where now, we don’t really care about the money. That poor victim, holy shit, I’ve never seen someone get tickled so bad…”

Claire gulped but continued her tough facade, “tickled?”

“you don’t think we’d hurt anyone, do you?” Catherine teased with a cruel smile. “we tickled her down here for ten whole days. Pure torture for the young lady, im pretty sure she mentally broke,” Claire’s insides turned as she thought about the implications of what Catherine was saying. Ten days. That must have been Emily! she was missing for exactly ten days and had suffered severe psychological trauma. It was all starting to make sense!

“are you putting the puzzle pieces together? Class valedictorian and you’re struggling with this… maybe you’re not as smart as we’ve been told.”

“fuck you!” Claire spat as she glared at the old lady. Her husband turned to her and spoke softly, “you’re scaring the girl. let me talk to her…”

“fine, she’s all yours…” she said with a light smile.

the old man addressed Claire, “listen. We don’t need the money anymore. So when our recent client came to us, we decided to look into things and make sure the torture was all justified and everything. Because, and I don’t say this lightly, we will fuck you up,” his face became deadly serious as he looked directly into claires eyes, “if we decide to go thru with this, you are literally going to hell. Do you understand?”

the poor girl almost wet herself. She could feel her leg shaking out of fear but leaned on the other as not to show weakness. She felt her breath getting faint as she uttered the words, “i… understand.”

“good,” brenie continued, “just keep in mind that you’re the one who’s supposed to be on that table right now. my wife and I decided to go easy on you. see, we have a theory…” the old couple smiled at each other for a moment before turning back to their victims, “that shelly might be able to tell you more about…”

shelly suddenly felt tension in the room shift as all eyes appeared to be on her. She felt her fingers tingle as she tried to wiggle them free with no luck. She shook her head but it was firmly snug, “the fuck does that mean?” she protested.

“we’ve decided to give you two some quality time together,” said the old lady with a smirk, “you both have… something you need to talk about…”

the old man was smiling as well. They both looked thoroughly excited, almost glowing as they turned around to face the door. “oh, and one more thing...” the old man looked back, “I’ve got money riding on you, Claire. I think you’re going to make it out of this…”

“and I don’t,” added the old lady, “my money’s on smith,” she said with a slight chuckle as they both disappeared out of the door, followed by the ridiculously large team of security guards. The two girls were now alone again; just themselves, their thoughts, and their predicament.

Claire broke the silence, “why do they think we need to talk?”

“Claire, I duno! I have no idea! You know I don’t know… it’s mind games! They’re using psychological torture…”

“why are you protesting so much?”

“Claire! What the actual fuck, don’t tell me you’re buying it! this is crazy!”

“shelly settle down, I’m messing with you,” Claire began to go through the drawers of a table stationed nearby. She was pulling out the contents and carelessly throwing everything onto the floor, kicking it around with her feet.

shelly strained to see to no avail, “what… what are you…”

“looking for the key, dumbass! Its gotta be around here somewhere…”

“oh my god, oh my god… thank you… thank you…”

“aaaand found it! dumb mother fuckers. Who hides the key in the desk right next to the thing?”

Claire rushed over to where shelly was immobilized on the cold metal table. She fumbled with the lock on her right wrist. She inserted the key and it seemed to fit. She gave it a turn, and… pop. The lock snapped open. The two girls looked at each other in shock. There was an explosion of shrieks in celebration of their new found path to freedom quickly followed by shelly’s rushing voice, “okay, okay, now get me the fuck out of here!”

Claire began un-tethering the staps one by one until shelly’s whole right arm was free. She waved it around in celebration, “haha, yes! Now get the other one!”

Claire giggled a little and caught a bit of a smirk as she looked down at shelly’s feet, then back up. Shelly just froze. She didn’t say anything. She figured maybe if she ignored it, it’ll go away.

“I think I should get your feet, next… that looks awfully uncomfortable…” Claire said as her evil smile grew.

shelly just gulped, “what…whatever just get me outa here…”

“hey shelly…?” Claire approached her friends bare, exposed feet with a mischievous aura.

“Claire…”

“why did you tickle me back there?”

“what? no… i… that was an accident…” she felt something sharp drag down the bottom of her right foot causing a jolt of insanity up her leg and into her torso. It tickled her whole body!

“eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!” she shrieked as her eyes bulged, “holy fucking shit!”

“yea, fuckin sucks, doesn’t it?” Claire giggled as she poked at the poor girl’s in-steps, “so why did you tickle me?”

“aaaahhhhh! Claaaaiiirrreee!!! Ow ow ow ow!! Fucking stoooooopp!!!”

“you can dish it out but you can’t take it? huh?” she scratched at her arches momentarily, making shelly gasp in silent laughter as her muscles strained hard against the straps. her right arm was flailing around and desperately scratching at her feet which were held in place, far out of reach.

she went silent for what seemed like 30 seconds straight before releasing a gasp for air and a long “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

Claire just cutely giggled, “hehe, why did you tickle me, shelly? Huh? Why did you tickle me?” she dug her nails in, going for the kill.

shelly lost control and just started screaming, “STOOOOOP OKAAYAYAF FUUUCK IIILLL TELLLL YOOOUU FUCKING STOOOOOP STOOOOOPPPP FUUUUUCKKK!!”

Claire just smiled, “hehe, that’s more like it!” she ceased her tickling and clasped shellys feet between her hands as to help stop the sensations. “its over, its over! Relax!”

shelly was still residually giggling, twitching, and choking on her words as tears formed in her eyes, “fuuuuck! Fuck you Claire!”

“oh shut up! I didn’t tickle you that bad! And you still haven’t answered my damn…”

“because I fucking like you!” shelly cut her off, “I fuckin like you, okay? I think you’re cute! You have have cute feet and I wanna suck your fucking toes! I wanna fuck you so bad, jesus christ you’re gorgeous and you make me wet just walking into a room! I fucking like you! okay?”

there was a bit of a pause for silence while shellys words hung in the air and slowly got stale.

“you gonna get me the fuck outa here?” shelly huffed.

“right…” she paused for second, “so you have a foot fetish?”

“Claire!”

“right…”

Claire began to look for the next lock. She unlocked the foot clamps and then unstrapped her ankles, and then made her way to shelly left arm. Their eyes briefly met, but shelly looked pissed and claired immediately looked down at the intricate straps holding each of shellys fingers. She continued to loosen the straps on the table and shelly pulled herself out the rest of the way. She jumped off shivering as she grabbed for her clothes and silently started to dress.

“shelly listen…”

“no, please. Lets not do this right now. lets just get out of here, okay?”

“right…”

“so we need to figure out how to get those double doors open…” shelly suggested as she slipped her hoodie back on over her head.

“ya know… I’m willing to bet… that those doors probably don’t even lock,” Claire said smugly as she approached them and gave a hard shove. They held tight. shelly looked disappointed.

“well shit. I figured…” mid-sentence the doors flung open to reveal a security guard who was surprised to see the two girls trying to escape. He grabbed Claire and threw her back onto concrete floor. While the guard was distracted, Shelly took the opportunity and bolted for the double doors. But as she approached them she stopped, turned around, and gave a menacing smile before casually walking through. The guard didn’t react. He just calmed followed and the doors closed. Claire could hear them latching the locks as that weird feeling began to creep up her spine. she looked up at the ceiling vents, they must be gassing us! She felt the dizziness, the breathlessness, and then nothing.

there was a faint sensation, just a light itch in the middle of claires palms as she slowly regained consciousness. She instinctively twitched to scratch it but was met with resistance. She couldn’t move her fingers! Her eyes were fuzzy and she had zero head mobility. There was no point in trying to look around. She knew where she was. Her stomach sank as she realized she couldn’t move a single muscle. She had been stripped down to her cute little white panties and could feel the chilly air loft across her soft, exposed skin. Claire was fastened tight to the table of horrors. she was strapped down just as intricately as shelly had been; fingers, feet, everything. her mind went straight to wondering why her friend had been allowed to leave so casually.

but just as her thoughts landed on shelly, the door opened and Claire could hear voices as people entered the room. She heard Catherine say, “I told you, didn’t i?” as Bernie grumbled.

“well hello there, Claire…” the old man spoke, “I was betting on you…”

Claire just remained silent. She glared at the old couple with a fiery rage as she tried to ignore the ever-growing itch on her right palm.

“…it would seem you’re not as smart as you were made out to be…”

“fuck you! tell me whats going on! Where’s shelly?”

“right here,” shelly spoke as she walked into view, “hi, Claire.”

“shelly what the fuck!”

“well the fuck is obviously you. and the what is going to be the absolute worst tickle-torture of your entire life!” shelly quipped as she giggled. The old couple just looked at each other with shrugs.

“no, fuck… shelly… why? we were almost free!”

“you still don’t get it, do you? smartest person in the room, 120 IQ and you still can’t see what standing right in front of you…”

“…what?”

“me! don’t you get it? I’m the client!”

“but… why?”

“what I said to you back there? about liking you… that was a lie. I don’t like you,” she leaned in to peer into claires eyes, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I’m obsessed with you! I wanna fuck you! I wanna be you!! and… and you couldn’t care in the slightest! What am I to you, Claire? Huh?”

“you’re… you’re my best…”

“no! don’t even fucking say it! I’m not your best friend; I’m not even on your roster! You treat me like shit! you literally ignore me! you walk away from me! you pretend to hate the songs I like just to hurt me! why? Why do you wanna hurt me? when all I want… we could be so fuckin good together, Claire! We could! But instead you act like I’m the annoying little sister! You don’t acknowledge me when I ask you questions! You don’t remember my birthday or my favorite color… you don’t even know my last fucking name!” she took a pause to see if Claire knew… but the panty-clad journalist was too afraid to answer.

“smith! It’s fucking smith! Yes, I set this up! You see, while you were busy pretending to be a journalist, I was actually doing the research! I found a flyer for a Halloween party. when I searched the address, I got an advertisement for something totally different than a Halloween party. It gave me this idea… it made me realize that I could have you if I wanted! I just had to condition you the way they conditioned Emily. I want you, Claire. But you’re not obedient enough for me yet. so I’m going to have to leave you down here until you learn to love me properly!”

Claire was lost for words. she had so many feelings and emotions flying through her mind all at once that it was hard to process the information. She blinked a few times, “okay, jokes over, shelly. You can let me out, now. we can, like, go home and talk this over…”

“oh there’s no joke. But you’ll be laughing,” shelly gushed as she poked claires ribs. Claire tensed up hard as the single poke sent a ticklish jolt into her body. she let out an involuntary, “shit!”

“oh? Shit? sorry was that… uncomfortable?” she grabbed claires armpits with both hands, kneading her thumbs into the pits while her fingers dug into her upper ribcage. Claires eyes almost burst out of her head as she skipped right into silent laughter.

as she gasped back into laughter she started forcefully screaming “ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“relax Claire,” shelly said in a mocking tone, “I’m not tickling you that bad, Claire…”

“fuuuuuuuucccckkkkhahahaha stooooooooop!!!!”

“oh, you want me to stop?” she stopped attacking claires poor underarms, which were already turning bright red. claire breathed a heavy sigh of relief as her heart pounded in her chest. she was twitching and her muscles were already spent from pulling at her restraints. She struggled silently to catch her breath.

“Cath-a-rine?” shelly called in a sing-song voice to the old lady as she acknowledged, “yes?”

“weren’t you telling me that you specialize in one particular area of tickling?”

Catherine grinned, “I was…”

“and what was that area? Could you remind me?” shelly smiled wickedly down at her poor friend.

“I specialize in foot-reflexology and reverse-reiki, which uses chakra points vs pressure points to stimulate feelings of extreme itching, irritation, and gargalesis,” Catherine slowly sauntered over to the table of horrors. “shall I demonstrate?”

“shelly, no! this has gone too far! Im done! Im out!” claired began shaking in fear, now, as sheer panic set in; they were going to tickle her feet. And there was nothing she could do about it. this was going to be bad…

“Demonstrate away, Catherine!” shelly sang as she glared into claires eyes. “I wanna watch your face. I wanna see you suffer!”

Claire could see just past shelly, the old lady at her feet pulled out two metallic objects that looked like chop-sticks. She positioned herself as she held the metal point hovering just above claire’s soft little pink pads. The point got closer. Closer… and then… tap. Just one little tap. Claire’s whole body seized up and she thought she was going to vomit. electric shocks sent all throughout her legs as the point of contact on her foot sent her into a rage. tap. tap.

“ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Okay fuck!! Im done! I quit! Im done! I’m calling the fuckin cops!”

everyone in the room burst out laughing at that one. Even Bernie had a good chuckle.

“no, seriously! Seriously! Seriously!” claires eyes were darting around the room, desperately searching for some faint signs of sympathy. “okay game over! Game over! Game over! Game over, shelly, I’m done! I’m done! I’m fucking done!”

“oh no, Claire. You’re only just getting started…” shelly was glowing as she peered into the sad, begging eyes of her friend. Her mascara was running down as Claire began audibly crying, “I cahahahan’t! I cahahahan’t!”

“oh but you can. And you will. You’ll take it until you’re as broken as Emily; a stupid, drooling little tickle-slave! I want you to like it… I want you to tell me, no… I want you to beg me to tickle you! I want you to beg me to tickle you until you pee yourself! Beg me! beg, you little slut!”

Claire barely heard a word of what shelly said. Those tiny little pokes on the bottoms of her feet had already driven her to tears. She was freaking out, in a state of complete panic, and the only thing her brain could concentrate on was stopping the tickling on her poor trapped sensitive bare feet.

“shelly, shelly, shelly, shelly, shelly!” she was just screaming her friend’s name now. probably on impulse. Her actions were becoming less and less voluntary.

“was… that supposed to be begging? That was pathedic!” shelly smirked, “can we get four more guards over here? I want at least five people tickling her at all times, understood?”

Claire let out a blood-curdling shriek as she felt fingers up and down her sides, poking, prodding, wiggling, pinching… another at her underarms… another at her hips… another at her thighs. this was too much. It was a constant onslaught of tickles as her whole body became one big exposed nerve. She bucked like a live-wire in her bondage but the table held firm, didn’t move an inch. Her muscles twisted and contorted, her eyes briefly fell back into her head as she gasped for air, before bulging back, glaring at her ticklers frantically. Her facial expressions were certainly frantic as Catherine picked up the pace with the magic chopsticks.

“pleeeeaase, pleeeeaase, pleeeeease, pleeeeease! Oh my fuckin godddddddddddddd stoooooooooaaaaaap!!!!”

Claire tried to close her eyes tight as tears flowed steady, but shelly leaned in and held one eye open, clockwork-orange-style. “look at me, tickle slut! How does that feel? Huh? Aww, is it bad? Is it really bad?”

“I’m gonna dieeeeee I’m gonna diiiieeeeeeee!!”

claires white little panties suddenly became dark as her bladder released and pee began to trickle down off of the table. Her butt wiggled and clenched as the tickling continued through her accidental ordeal.

“ewwwww Claire! Are you peeing?” shelly smacked her in the face so hard it brought her back for a second.

“i… i… i… i’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she sobbed at shelly, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“ugh! This is why we can’t be lovers yet! you’re fuckin gross!” shelly looked around the room at the 20 or so security guards all dressed in black suits with black ski masks. “all of you saw that, right?” the men in masks stood silent. “see Claire? they’re like those british guards that can’t interact, not that you’d bother to give a shit,” she turned her attention back to the guards, “Punish her! I want you all to tickle her continuously until tomorrow night. No food, no water, no bathroom breaks… just straight tickle torture!”

one of the guards looked over at Bernie and Catherine. They gave the nod. The security guards began to position themselves around the table of doom. Poor Claire was in a state of total agony. Her nerve endings were on fire and her pain receptors were receiving more feelings than she could process. She wanted more than anything in the world just to curl up into a little ball; to be able to bring her arms down and squeeze those tickling fingers from out of her pits, to be able to swat the hands that keep grabbing her sides, to be able to stop the pinching at her hips and inner-thighs, even the little circles being traced in her palms were excruciating… but most of all she neeeeeded that awful feeling on her feet to stop! Her natural reaction, anyone’s natural reaction to being tickled is to recoil. But she couldn’t recoil. Every soft, sensitive part of her was laid bare and exposed. And all of those exposed parts were being over-stimulated to hell. Claire knew this absolutely couldn’t get any worse… and then the rest of the guards began to tickle her…

Claire erupted into total insanity. It was that looong slow silent laugh; that long slow gasp for air- followed by that primal, almost animalistic shriek that sends shivers down your spine. Claire was screaming. She was screaming nonsense and half words that slurred into each other as her bladder released again and she pissed herself for the second time. She was completely out of control. She had no actions left that were voluntary. Everything was a jolt reaction. She was just a tickle-bag on a table, taking in every tiny sensation, every tingle, every vibration without a single ounce of empathy. This was absolute tickle hell.

shelly walked casually over to claires pants that were strewn on the hard concrete. She took the car-keys out of the tiny pocket and dangled them in the air, “you’ll get the jetta back once you can stop pissing yourself!” she giggled.

Claire had tears and makeup streaming down her face and her words had become a comical slurry of squeaks and vowel sounds. Shelly leaned in close, put her lips gently to her friend’s ear and whispered, “once upon a time we were falling in love, Claire. We really were. You should’ve just let it happen. Instead you had to make me tear a hole in your heart, the way you tore a hole in mine…”

she sauntered over to the double doors as Claire sobbed in despair. She turned around one last time, “…there’s nothing I can do…”

shelly closed the double doors behind her as the echoing cries of her new tickle-slave were silenced.

outside, she casually skipped through the empty parking lot, “I told you there were no cars, you bitch…” she slid the key into the ignition and brought the jetta-kitten to purr. Her fingers instinctively went for the window as she rolled it down about half way. She was about to put it in reverse before realizing that something was missing.

she pulled a cigarette from her pack and held the tip over a sleek flame as she took a deep drag. Inhale. exhale. ah, yes. Fuck your jetta, Claire.

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