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Prisoner (M/F)

RogueTickler

TMF Novice
Joined
Nov 24, 2001
Messages
62
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Hi folks -

It's been a while since I've posted or even been on the TMF. While I was away, I had an online friendship with one of the members here. Over several years, I wrote her a ton of stories, based on her specific likes. The steam kinda ran out a few months ago, but it was a fun time while it lasted. Anyway, she was always cool with me posting the stories, but I never actually got around to it. I figured I might as well start now. The stories range from playful to pretty hardcore. We both enjoyed the darker side of things, so I wrote about that a lot. Anyway, here's one of the stories. I'll post more as I get time. Hope you enjoy!

PRISONER

I don't know how long I've been here.

"Day" and "night" have no meaning for me anymore.

Trapped in this cage, I sit in darkness, staring at the shadows created by the slim sheath of light seeping from beneath the heavy locked door against the far wall - the only way out of this room.

Or is "Dungeon" more appropriate?

I hug my knees and try not to look at the silhouettes of the "furniture" placed around the floor. He has forced me to become intimate with every piece during my stay here. Each connects me to a memory I want to forget very badly.

Because being tortured by him is simply unforgettable.

While the silhouettes in the darkness menace my memory banks, my true anxiety rests with the single light fixture high up in the middle of the ceiling. When that bulb turns on, it means one thing: he is coming for me.

Who is "he"? I have no clue. I only know that he stole me. Ripped me away from my every-day existence, away from my normal world, the world that made sense. Now I'm a prisoner in HIS world, a world of suffering. MY suffering.

The worst thing is that I did nothing to stop him. It was too easy for him to wait for me after my gym workout. Fresh from the shower, muscles tired from exercise. Then walking alone to my car in the underground parking lot - stupid! My boyfriend always warned me about doing that but I never listened...

... My boyfriend... god I miss him!... I miss my family... my friends...

Stupid, stupid... walking to my car, not paying attention, looking at my iPhone... It was just too easy for him to stick the needle in my neck. I remember the prick... then I woke up in this cage.

This cage. It's become my home. I remember feeling its cold metal plating against my face as I came to. I didn't awaken to darkness. No, the light was on and "he" was there, grinning wickedly from the other side of the cage door.

I had barely woken up when he threw the cage door open, grabbed me and yanked me out. He quickly pinned my arms behind my back as I yelled and screamed in terror. He moved me quickly, throwing me roughly onto a long wooden table. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them together tightly, buckling them into thick leather cuffs directly above my head. As I struggled to free my bound wrists, he moved to the end of the table, grabbing my legs and yanking me down until my ankles hung over the edge. He spread my legs apart - wide - and secured each ankle into it's own thick leather cuff on the corners.

I was out-of-my-mind with horror. I babbled a mile-a-minute, pleading for release, which in retrospect only seemed to stoke his fire. I watched helplessly as he walked around, inspecting me, before taking position at the head of the table where a large winch roller was connected to my wrist-cuffs rope. He placed his hands on the levers and turned slowly, causing my arms to pull upwards. I screamed and thrashed frantically. I could feel the stretch as my body was artificially lengthened. I gave an anguished cry and screamed for him to stop. Images from history books flooded my mind... was I really to be "racked"??!!

I sobbed with relief when he stopped and locked the roller after stretching me taught. In truth, it wasn't uncomfortable, however I was now completely immobile. I could feel the stretched skin on my body tingling with a vulnerability that made me extremely fearful. After all, if the plan was not to painfully rack me, then surely I was being prepared for something equally horrible.

I tried to rationalize with him, telling him that it was not too late to let me go. I promised I would never tell a soul. He responded with a chuckle, seconds later stuffing a red rubber ball into my mouth and securing its straps tightly behind my head. I tried to protest but all that came out was a series of nonsensical grunts. I lay my head back and tugged frantically on my bonds. I could barely move and now I was gagged. I whimpered.

I saw the glimmer of light before I realized what it was. He was holding a giant hunting knife, displaying it menacingly. The light reflected off the shiny blade and I could see that its edge was razor sharp and its tip was pointed and deadly. I swallowed hard as my eyes grew wide. He brought the tip towards my soft belly and, while I held my breath, he moved the tip under the bottom of my white t-shirt and slowly pushed the material upwards. My stomach muscles moved rapidly in and out as his knife revealed more and more of my torso. He let the blade tip lightly touch my skin, dragging it up until it reached my sports bra. He grinned and made a show of peeking under my shirt and looking at my breasts. He licked his lips before pulling the knife away. Having come from the gym, I was simply dressed. Along with my white t-shirt and sports bra, I also wore gray three-quarter length track pants, white no-see socks and Reebok runners. I also wore white, plain panties. I prayed that, whatever happened, he would at least preserve my dignity by leaving me clothed.

Like everything in his world, though, this was not even an option. He lazily walked around my racked body and, with a few deft flicks of his wrist here and there, soon had me stripped down to my bra, panties, shoes and socks. I whimpered and mewled, powerless to do anything but wait for the inevitable.

The bra came off first. He slid the knife tip under the middle, tilting its edge so it was pointed up and forward. This caused the bra's material to split and shear away, revealing my soft, sensitive breasts. He used the tip of the knife to "tickle" one of my nipples, and I gave out a muffled cry, causing him to smirk.

My panties came next. I squirmed as he slid the knife tip under one side and performed a similar shearing action. It split apart, revealing my tender hip. He placed his fingertips on the skin there and lightly caressed it, causing me to burst into giggles. I saw his face get flushed with arousal at my reaction and he quickly went around to the other side of the table and split the remaining panty material. He pulled it away, sliding it out from underneath my ass and letting the material friction-rub against my shaved pussy. Against my will, I moaned and squirmed. Again, I seemed to delight him with my reaction.

Now I was stripped naked down to my shoes and socks, stretched taught to the rack, arms held straight and high above my head, legs spread wide, ankles bound to the corners, and mouth thoroughly gagged. I was delirious with panic and anticipation for what might come next. Was I to be whipped? Burned? Stretched some more, perhaps? Or was I to be raped? I shuddered at the possibilities.

He put the knife down on a bench and turned his back away from me while he rummaged for something. My head was turned to one side as I helplessly watched him choose. Finally, he turned towards me with his hands low. I could not see what he was holding. He approached my head and brought his hands up... and then I was covered in darkness as a thick blindfold was secured over my eyes. I let out a wailing sob as I was now deprived of the ability to even see the unthinkable things he was about to do to me.

I lay on the rack, shaking with fear. Where would the first indiscretion against my tender body be? How painful would it be? My muscles were tense with anticipation.

And then I felt it - his fingers caressing my hip again. I stifled a surprised giggle and began squirming. Then his other hand grabbed my other hip and I lost it. I shrieked into the gag, almost choking with laughter that was suddenly being forced from me. I was completely unprepared and I struggled to come to grips with the electrical tickles shocking my nervous system into hysteria. I had no way to prepare for it, and no way to defend against it. I was completely helpless, held immobile while he slid his fingers across my hyper-ticklish skin.

As he moved his hands from one ticklish spot to another, I was a racked mess of grunts, groans, shrieks and giggles. He would discover certain weaknesses and exploit them mercilessly, like squeezing my insane-ticklish knees, or letting his fingertips dip lazily in my horribly ticklish underarms. However, he always kept coming back to my hips. Oh how he tortured me there. He would grab on and squeeze just so, causing me to choke with agonizing minutes of silent laughter. After awhile, I would have done anything for him to stop tickling me there. I felt like I'd prefer being lashed, instead of enduring this cruelty! He tickled my hips until I was a broken mess. When he finally stopped, I just lay there and sobbed with relief. Just about every nerve in my body was tingling like it was on fire.

And then he started to pull off my shoes.

"NO!" I screamed into the gag. I fought as best as I could, thrashing and wiggling my feet, but my Reeboks slid off easily. My mind reeled with what was coming. I did not want my feet to be tickled. They were just too sensitive. Weekly pedicures had kept them buttery soft and smooth. They also made them unbearably ticklish. My boyfriend loved tickling me and I would endure it as the foreplay always resulted in amazing sex. However, I could only ever stand a few seconds at most on my feet. My boyfriend loved to trap and tickle them while we watched TV together, and he barely had to touch my soles for me to go absolutely crazy.

Now I was bound to a rack with my socked feet helplessly dangling over the edge. I felt him grip the toes of each sock and slowly pull. As they slid off and the cool air hit my bare toes, I let out another anguished wail. I was about to have my feet tickled. Tickle TORTURED. My tender, bound, helpless feet were about to be tickle tortured and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

His first strokes hit my soles and I immediately curled my feet and clenched my fists, a futile attempt to defend myself from the sensations that were inevitably going to destroy me. I held on for a few precious seconds before the muscles gave way and my feet uncurled slightly. It was like a hole in a dam breaking wide open as the horrible tickle sensations flooded my body through the bottoms of my feet.

I'm sure I shrieked. I probably begged. I definitely laughed. The truth is, I don't really remember much. From the moment his fingers broke through my tickled feet, it was a tornado of frantic, desperate emotions. I felt at times that I was simply doing what I could to survive the ordeal. It was THAT bad. When it finally and mercifully ended, I had not even realized he had pulled his hands away. My heels, soles and toes tingled with an intensity that bordered on madness. Even thought I was racked tight, I held my body rigid with tension, deathly afraid that more horrible tickling would be applied at any moment.

In some respects I was correct - more tickling was coming. However, not in the way I expected. I felt him climb between my wide spread legs and felt his rock-hard member teasing the opening of my pussy. I suddenly realized that I was swollen and aroused and this perplexed me. Did the tickling put me in this state? I didn't have much time to ponder as the tip of his penis pushed inside me and I let out a muffled gasp. He pushed deep and began a very slow thrust. I moaned and writhed in the bonds, opening and closing my small bound hands and curling and pointing my toes from the passion.

The concept of being raped had always been unfathomable for me, however here I was stretched and bound in a "Y" position being fucked against my will... and it was making me hot. For some reason, every thing he had done to me, every single transgression had conspired to turn me into a wet, dripping, and voraciously horny creature. As I pulled sensuously against my bonds, I wanted nothing more than to feel his giant cock inching me closer and closer to a massive orgasm.

And then his hands were on my flanks and they began tickling. It shook me out of my orgasmic zone of pleasure and, as the intensity of my forced laughter increased, my arousal level was forced down. I shook my head, vigorously protesting. I did not want to be tickled! I wanted to be fucked! I wanted the mind-blowing orgasm that I was so close to just seconds ago. However, as his clever hands tickle-tortured me back into submission, I realized that the reward of an orgasm was not mine to have. It never was. As I felt him stiffen up and unleash his load into me, I felt a wave of anguish wash over my shaking, laughing body.

He pulled out when he had finished mining me for every last drop of pleasure, removing his tickling fingers at the same time. I sagged mentally with the emptiness that only a severe mind-fuck can produce. As a final indignity, before climbing down from the rack, he reached behind himself and gave me a thorough bare foot tickling that lasted several intense minutes, during which I laughed with uncontrolled hysteria against my will. I was truly his puppet on a string.

Since that first time, I've been forced into many unimaginable situations. I've learned that every piece of torture equipment in this place has a particular purpose and strength. He knows how to exploit them. He knows how to exploit me.

How long have I been here? I've no idea. None whatsoever. All I know is know is that my name is Ally and all I think about is that light. That stupid light.

Oh shit... it just turned on. Please, god, help me...

The End
 
Thanks, I'm glad you guys liked it. I've got a bunch more so I'll post soon. All sorts of different ticklish flavours &#55357;&#56833;
 
Wonderfully dark and intense! This is the best story I've read on here in a long time. It sent cold shivers down my spine but in a good way... ;)

I hope the author has more stories to share with us.
 
Well written and exciting! Looking forward to reading how you'll torment your next deliciously helpless victim ;)
 
A very nicely paced and descriptive story. I almost feel sorry for the victim...
 
This was the best story I've ever read! Goosebumps throughout the whole thing! Wow!!
 
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