CapturedDoll
4th Level Green Feather
- Joined
- Jul 27, 2014
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Heyy everyone! I enjoyed writing a story gosh it's been forever it seems like. Themes of non con of course.
P.s The pic included I made using A.I! I thought it would be great to share here with the story. Hope you enjoy it!
In the quiet town of Willow Creek, a young woman named Lila went about her morning routine, her movements efficient and practiced. She lived in a small, tidy apartment above the local bookstore, her sanctuary amidst the quaint shops and cobblestone streets. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the room as she sat down at her vanity, her eyes lingering over the photograph of her best friend, Elena, who had moved away for college. They had been inseparable since childhood, sharing secrets and dreams of escaping to the big city.
On this particular day, Lila had plans to visit Elena in the city. A surprise visit to celebrate their friendship and break the monotony of her own life. She had packed a small bag with her favorite books and a few changes of clothes, eager to explore the urban jungle she had only read about in the pages of her favorite novels. As she applied her makeup, her thoughts drifted to the adventures they would have. Little did she know, Elena was already caught in a nightmare she never could have imagined.
Elena had been living in the city for almost a year, studying hard and working part-time to make ends meet. She had been out late, enjoying the vibrant nightlife, when she was approached by a charming but mysterious man. Before she could react, she was overpowered by a group of his associates and thrown into the back of a van. The world outside the tinted windows grew distant as the vehicle sped away, taking her to a place she would never have willingly stepped foot in.
When Lila arrived at Elena's apartment, she found it eerily quiet. There was no sign of her friend, no note, no answer to her calls. Her heart racing, she decided to wait, pacing the floor and scrolling through social media for any clues to Elena's whereabouts. Hours ticked by, and the shadows grew longer. Concern turned to fear as the realization set in that something was terribly wrong.
With a gut-wrenching feeling, Lila called the local police station to report Elena missing. The officers took her statement with a mix of skepticism and sympathy, but promised to look into it. They suggested she wait at home in case Elena returned or called, but Lila couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to do more. She decided to retrace Elena's steps from the night before, hoping to find someone who had seen her or knew where she had gone.
The first stop was the bustling café where Elena had been working. The barista, a friend of Elena's, was visibly shaken by the news. She relayed the details of Elena's last shift and the mysterious man who had visited the night before. His description was vague, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Lila's mind raced as she left the café, her heart heavy with dread.
Her search led her to a dimly lit alley, the kind that seemed to exist only in the pages of the noir novels she loved. The cobblestone streets gave way to grimy concrete, and the air was thick with the scent of garbage and rain. It was here that she stumbled upon a crumpled piece of paper with Elena's handwriting: "Lila, if you find this, don't come looking for me. I'm in trouble. Stay safe." Her heart pounding in her chest, she knew she couldn't ignore the warning.
Ignoring her own fear, Lila decided to press on, driven by the unshakeable bond that had held them together through thick and thin. The alley opened up to a nondescript door, the kind that blended into the grime of the city. With trembling hands, she pushed it open and stepped into a world of darkness and danger. The door slammed shut behind her, the finality of it echoing through the silent space.
Inside, she found herself in a grimy basement, the walls lined with rows of cages. The smell of fear and despair hung heavy in the air. The only light came from a single, flickering bulb that swung ominously from the ceiling. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, and she spotted Elena in the far corner, gagged and bound in a cage, her eyes wide with terror. Lila's stomach lurched as she took in the scene before her, her worst fears realized.
Elena's cage was padlocked, and the keys were nowhere in sight. Desperation fueled Lila's search, her eyes scanning the room frantically. She noticed a set of keys hanging from a hook on the wall, just out of reach. She turned to the cage, whispering comforting words to her friend, promising she would find a way to free her.
As she approached the keys, a floorboard creaked beneath her foot, alerting the captors to her presence. Two burly men, dressed in black, emerged from the shadows, their eyes narrowing at the sight of her. One of them, a brute with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward, grabbing Lila by the arm and yanking her towards him. "Looks like we've got ourselves an extra guest," he sneered, his grip tightening painfully.
The other man, slightly shorter but no less intimidating, sauntered over to Elena's cage and unlocked it. He pulled her out, her legs wobbly from being confined for so long. Despite her fear, Elena managed to shoot Lila a look filled with both apology and determination. They knew each other well enough to communicate without words. Lila's eyes told her to stay strong, and Elena nodded almost imperceptibly.
Don Turtelli, the notorious mobster who had orchestrated their abduction, appeared from a doorway at the far end of the room. His smile was cold, his eyes calculating. "How touching," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But let's not make this a family reunion, shall we?" He gestured to the two women, and the men dragged them towards a set of wooden stocks in the center of the room.
The stocks were ancient and menacing, their surfaces scarred with the history of unspeakable acts. Lila and Elena were forced into them, their wrists and ankles bound tightly by the cold, unforgiving wood. They sat facing each other in their separate devices. Their hands restrained in the stocks. Elena reached out with her fingers and could almost feel Lilas feet that directly laid taute in front of her restrained hands. They mirrored each other from within in their own circles of hell. The henchmen tied their toes back, stretching their legs and exposing their bare feet to the room. Don Turtelli stepped closer, his breath hot and foul on their skin as he leaned in to whisper, "This is a game I enjoy. You two will tickle each other's feet until one of you surrenders or passes out. The one who lasts wins... a prize."
He placed a feather in each of their hands, their fingers trembling as they gripped the delicate instruments of torment. The room grew quiet, the only sound the occasional drip of water from a leaky pipe echoing through the damp space. The tension was palpable as they looked into each other's eyes, searching for strength. Lila nodded at Elena, signaling that she understood the gravity of their situation. They had to endure, no matter what.
The game began, their feathers dancing over each other's feet. At first, the sensation was light, almost tickling, but as the minutes dragged on, it grew unbearable. The men watched with sadistic amusement, occasionally shouting taunts to break their concentration. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and their laughter grew strained and forced. Each feather stroke brought a new wave of agony, their toes quivering and muscles spasming uncontrollably.
Elena, the more stoic of the two, took the brunt of the tickle torture with gritted teeth, refusing to give in. Lila, though equally determined, couldn't hide the tears that streamed down her face. The feathers, once a symbol of innocence, had become instruments of torture. The tickling grew more intense, their hands moving faster and more erratically.
The sensations in their feet escalated to a maddening crescendo, each touch sending jolts of tearful agony up their legs. They fought to keep their composure, not wanting to give their captors the satisfaction of watching them break. But the game was designed to wear them down, to make them feel vulnerable and powerless.
As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the room grew hotter, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The feathers fluttered faster and more randomly, their coordination waning as the sensations overwhelmed them. The henchmen's laughter grew louder, feeding off their suffering like vultures circling their prey.
Don Turtelli, unable to resist the sick thrill of watching them squirm, decided to up the ante. He flipped a switch on the side of the stocks, and two mechanical arms, each tipped with a single feather, emerged from the shadows beneath. The arms glided up their legs, pausing at their inner thighs before moving closer to their most sensitive areas. Lila and Elena's eyes widened in horror as the feathers brushed against their clits, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable.
The machines whirred to life, the feathers moving in a synchronized dance of torment. The gentle tickling grew more insistent, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through their bodies. They bit their lips, trying to stifle their screams and laughter, as the feathers continued their relentless assault. Their eyes never left each other's, silently sharing their agony and fear.
The room grew hotter, their breaths coming in shallow pants. The tickling grew unbearable, the feathers now teasing and taunting them in a rhythmic pattern that was driving them to the brink of madness. Lila felt her body begin to betray her, her muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate attempt to escape the unrelenting sensation. She watched in horror as Elena's eyes rolled back, a silent scream escaping her lips.
Don Turtelli's smile widened as he flipped another switch, sending the mechanical arms into a frenzy. The feathers danced over their most sensitive spots, the pressure building to a crescendo. Lila's mind was a whirlwind of pain and panic, her body no longer her own. She felt the warmth spread through her core, the beginnings of an orgasm she neither wanted nor could control. Meanwhile, Elena's body jerked and spasmed, the intensity of her own pleasure-pain threshold reached.
The sound of the machines grew louder, their synchronized movements taunting the two friends. The feathers circled their clits, bringing them closer and closer to the edge. Lila's vision blurred, her breathing erratic. She could feel her body succumbing, the need for relief overwhelming. Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she saw Elena's body go limp, her eyes rolling back in her head. A moment of unintended victory filled her, thinking she had won the twisted game. At that now the tickle torture would come to and end.
But the feathers didn't stop. They continued their relentless dance, now focusing solely on Lila. The sensation grew stronger, the pleasure turning into an unbearable crescendo. She screamed, trying to pull away, but she was trapped, her body betraying her with every involuntary spasm. The room swam around her, the laughter of the henchmen fading into the background as she felt the inevitable climax building within her.
With a final, desperate gasp, Lila's body convulsed, and she felt the release of the orgasm forced upon her. Her vision went white, and she passed out, the feathers finally stilling on her now lifeless body. The room fell silent, the only sound the erratic thumping of her heart echoing through the basement.
Don Turtelli's face was a twisted mask of excitement, his breaths ragged as he watched the display. His own hand had moved to his crotch, stroking himself in time with the machines' movements. The sight of the two beautiful women, bound and writhing in pleasure-pain, had pushed him over the edge. He came, his seed spattering onto the cold concrete floor as he watched the life drain from Lila's eyes. The thrill of her involuntary climax leading to death was more than he could handle, and he reveled in the power he held over them.
The room was silent now, save for the mechanical purr of the machines that had claimed one of them. Elena's eyes snapp
ed open, her gaze locking onto Lila's still form. The realization of what had happened washed over her, turning the victory she thought she'd won into a hollow, bitter defeat. The feathers had stopped moving, but the horror remained, etched into every line on her face.
Don Turtelli, his own climax still fresh, stepped forward to admire his handiwork. "Ah, such a shame," he murmured, his voice thick with a sadistic pleasure. "But what a way to go, eh?" He leaned down to whisper into Elena's ear, his breath hot and dark. "You see, I've always had a taste for the dramatic. And watching one of you succumb to pleasure while the other suffers... well, it's an art form, really."
Elena's eyes were glazed with shock, her body trembling as she took in the sight of Lila's lifeless form. The feathers, once instruments of their bond, were now stained with the grim reality of their situation. Don's henchmen dragged Lila's body away, leaving Elena alone in the stocks, her mind racing. Her grief and anger coalesced into a white-hot ball of rage, fueling her determination to survive, to escape, and to make him pay.
The mechanical arms retreated into the shadows, the feathers now stilled. Don Turtelli approached her, his breath reeking of satisfaction. "You did well," he purred, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "Now, it's your turn to truly understand what it means to be in my power." He flipped another switch, and the machines beneath her whirred back to life.
Elena's body tensed as the feathers resumed their relentless dance, now focused solely on her. She felt the pressure building, the sensation growing more intense with each stroke. Her mind screamed for it to stop, but her body had other plans. Her eyes darted to Lila's lifeless form, the guilt and horror mixing with the unwanted pleasure that coursed through her. She had to endure, for Lila, for herself, for the promise of revenge that now burned in her soul.
The feathers moved with a precision that seemed almost sentient, their gentle touches turning into a maelstrom of sensation. She clenched her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut, as the tickling grew more insistent. Each breath was a battle, each second an eternity. And then, it was too much. Her body arched, a scream escaping her as she climaxed against her will, the intense pleasure momentarily overriding the pain of her loss.
As she crumpled in the stocks, the feathers finally ceased their dance. The room was quiet except for the mechanical hum of the machines and the ragged breaths of the men who had watched with perverse enjoyment. Don Turtelli leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "Such a waste," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "But what a show."
The henchmen dragged Elena out of the stocks, her legs trembling as she tried to stand. She stared at Lila's lifeless body, a cold rage building within her. She knew she had to keep her wits about her, to find a way out of this hellhole. As Don Turtelli approached, she braced herself for the next round of his twisted games.
P.s The pic included I made using A.I! I thought it would be great to share here with the story. Hope you enjoy it!
In the quiet town of Willow Creek, a young woman named Lila went about her morning routine, her movements efficient and practiced. She lived in a small, tidy apartment above the local bookstore, her sanctuary amidst the quaint shops and cobblestone streets. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the room as she sat down at her vanity, her eyes lingering over the photograph of her best friend, Elena, who had moved away for college. They had been inseparable since childhood, sharing secrets and dreams of escaping to the big city.
On this particular day, Lila had plans to visit Elena in the city. A surprise visit to celebrate their friendship and break the monotony of her own life. She had packed a small bag with her favorite books and a few changes of clothes, eager to explore the urban jungle she had only read about in the pages of her favorite novels. As she applied her makeup, her thoughts drifted to the adventures they would have. Little did she know, Elena was already caught in a nightmare she never could have imagined.
Elena had been living in the city for almost a year, studying hard and working part-time to make ends meet. She had been out late, enjoying the vibrant nightlife, when she was approached by a charming but mysterious man. Before she could react, she was overpowered by a group of his associates and thrown into the back of a van. The world outside the tinted windows grew distant as the vehicle sped away, taking her to a place she would never have willingly stepped foot in.
When Lila arrived at Elena's apartment, she found it eerily quiet. There was no sign of her friend, no note, no answer to her calls. Her heart racing, she decided to wait, pacing the floor and scrolling through social media for any clues to Elena's whereabouts. Hours ticked by, and the shadows grew longer. Concern turned to fear as the realization set in that something was terribly wrong.
With a gut-wrenching feeling, Lila called the local police station to report Elena missing. The officers took her statement with a mix of skepticism and sympathy, but promised to look into it. They suggested she wait at home in case Elena returned or called, but Lila couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to do more. She decided to retrace Elena's steps from the night before, hoping to find someone who had seen her or knew where she had gone.
The first stop was the bustling café where Elena had been working. The barista, a friend of Elena's, was visibly shaken by the news. She relayed the details of Elena's last shift and the mysterious man who had visited the night before. His description was vague, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Lila's mind raced as she left the café, her heart heavy with dread.
Her search led her to a dimly lit alley, the kind that seemed to exist only in the pages of the noir novels she loved. The cobblestone streets gave way to grimy concrete, and the air was thick with the scent of garbage and rain. It was here that she stumbled upon a crumpled piece of paper with Elena's handwriting: "Lila, if you find this, don't come looking for me. I'm in trouble. Stay safe." Her heart pounding in her chest, she knew she couldn't ignore the warning.
Ignoring her own fear, Lila decided to press on, driven by the unshakeable bond that had held them together through thick and thin. The alley opened up to a nondescript door, the kind that blended into the grime of the city. With trembling hands, she pushed it open and stepped into a world of darkness and danger. The door slammed shut behind her, the finality of it echoing through the silent space.
Inside, she found herself in a grimy basement, the walls lined with rows of cages. The smell of fear and despair hung heavy in the air. The only light came from a single, flickering bulb that swung ominously from the ceiling. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, and she spotted Elena in the far corner, gagged and bound in a cage, her eyes wide with terror. Lila's stomach lurched as she took in the scene before her, her worst fears realized.
Elena's cage was padlocked, and the keys were nowhere in sight. Desperation fueled Lila's search, her eyes scanning the room frantically. She noticed a set of keys hanging from a hook on the wall, just out of reach. She turned to the cage, whispering comforting words to her friend, promising she would find a way to free her.
As she approached the keys, a floorboard creaked beneath her foot, alerting the captors to her presence. Two burly men, dressed in black, emerged from the shadows, their eyes narrowing at the sight of her. One of them, a brute with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward, grabbing Lila by the arm and yanking her towards him. "Looks like we've got ourselves an extra guest," he sneered, his grip tightening painfully.
The other man, slightly shorter but no less intimidating, sauntered over to Elena's cage and unlocked it. He pulled her out, her legs wobbly from being confined for so long. Despite her fear, Elena managed to shoot Lila a look filled with both apology and determination. They knew each other well enough to communicate without words. Lila's eyes told her to stay strong, and Elena nodded almost imperceptibly.
Don Turtelli, the notorious mobster who had orchestrated their abduction, appeared from a doorway at the far end of the room. His smile was cold, his eyes calculating. "How touching," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But let's not make this a family reunion, shall we?" He gestured to the two women, and the men dragged them towards a set of wooden stocks in the center of the room.
The stocks were ancient and menacing, their surfaces scarred with the history of unspeakable acts. Lila and Elena were forced into them, their wrists and ankles bound tightly by the cold, unforgiving wood. They sat facing each other in their separate devices. Their hands restrained in the stocks. Elena reached out with her fingers and could almost feel Lilas feet that directly laid taute in front of her restrained hands. They mirrored each other from within in their own circles of hell. The henchmen tied their toes back, stretching their legs and exposing their bare feet to the room. Don Turtelli stepped closer, his breath hot and foul on their skin as he leaned in to whisper, "This is a game I enjoy. You two will tickle each other's feet until one of you surrenders or passes out. The one who lasts wins... a prize."
He placed a feather in each of their hands, their fingers trembling as they gripped the delicate instruments of torment. The room grew quiet, the only sound the occasional drip of water from a leaky pipe echoing through the damp space. The tension was palpable as they looked into each other's eyes, searching for strength. Lila nodded at Elena, signaling that she understood the gravity of their situation. They had to endure, no matter what.
The game began, their feathers dancing over each other's feet. At first, the sensation was light, almost tickling, but as the minutes dragged on, it grew unbearable. The men watched with sadistic amusement, occasionally shouting taunts to break their concentration. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and their laughter grew strained and forced. Each feather stroke brought a new wave of agony, their toes quivering and muscles spasming uncontrollably.
Elena, the more stoic of the two, took the brunt of the tickle torture with gritted teeth, refusing to give in. Lila, though equally determined, couldn't hide the tears that streamed down her face. The feathers, once a symbol of innocence, had become instruments of torture. The tickling grew more intense, their hands moving faster and more erratically.
The sensations in their feet escalated to a maddening crescendo, each touch sending jolts of tearful agony up their legs. They fought to keep their composure, not wanting to give their captors the satisfaction of watching them break. But the game was designed to wear them down, to make them feel vulnerable and powerless.
As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the room grew hotter, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The feathers fluttered faster and more randomly, their coordination waning as the sensations overwhelmed them. The henchmen's laughter grew louder, feeding off their suffering like vultures circling their prey.
Don Turtelli, unable to resist the sick thrill of watching them squirm, decided to up the ante. He flipped a switch on the side of the stocks, and two mechanical arms, each tipped with a single feather, emerged from the shadows beneath. The arms glided up their legs, pausing at their inner thighs before moving closer to their most sensitive areas. Lila and Elena's eyes widened in horror as the feathers brushed against their clits, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable.
The machines whirred to life, the feathers moving in a synchronized dance of torment. The gentle tickling grew more insistent, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through their bodies. They bit their lips, trying to stifle their screams and laughter, as the feathers continued their relentless assault. Their eyes never left each other's, silently sharing their agony and fear.
The room grew hotter, their breaths coming in shallow pants. The tickling grew unbearable, the feathers now teasing and taunting them in a rhythmic pattern that was driving them to the brink of madness. Lila felt her body begin to betray her, her muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate attempt to escape the unrelenting sensation. She watched in horror as Elena's eyes rolled back, a silent scream escaping her lips.
Don Turtelli's smile widened as he flipped another switch, sending the mechanical arms into a frenzy. The feathers danced over their most sensitive spots, the pressure building to a crescendo. Lila's mind was a whirlwind of pain and panic, her body no longer her own. She felt the warmth spread through her core, the beginnings of an orgasm she neither wanted nor could control. Meanwhile, Elena's body jerked and spasmed, the intensity of her own pleasure-pain threshold reached.
The sound of the machines grew louder, their synchronized movements taunting the two friends. The feathers circled their clits, bringing them closer and closer to the edge. Lila's vision blurred, her breathing erratic. She could feel her body succumbing, the need for relief overwhelming. Just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she saw Elena's body go limp, her eyes rolling back in her head. A moment of unintended victory filled her, thinking she had won the twisted game. At that now the tickle torture would come to and end.
But the feathers didn't stop. They continued their relentless dance, now focusing solely on Lila. The sensation grew stronger, the pleasure turning into an unbearable crescendo. She screamed, trying to pull away, but she was trapped, her body betraying her with every involuntary spasm. The room swam around her, the laughter of the henchmen fading into the background as she felt the inevitable climax building within her.
With a final, desperate gasp, Lila's body convulsed, and she felt the release of the orgasm forced upon her. Her vision went white, and she passed out, the feathers finally stilling on her now lifeless body. The room fell silent, the only sound the erratic thumping of her heart echoing through the basement.
Don Turtelli's face was a twisted mask of excitement, his breaths ragged as he watched the display. His own hand had moved to his crotch, stroking himself in time with the machines' movements. The sight of the two beautiful women, bound and writhing in pleasure-pain, had pushed him over the edge. He came, his seed spattering onto the cold concrete floor as he watched the life drain from Lila's eyes. The thrill of her involuntary climax leading to death was more than he could handle, and he reveled in the power he held over them.
The room was silent now, save for the mechanical purr of the machines that had claimed one of them. Elena's eyes snapp
ed open, her gaze locking onto Lila's still form. The realization of what had happened washed over her, turning the victory she thought she'd won into a hollow, bitter defeat. The feathers had stopped moving, but the horror remained, etched into every line on her face.
Don Turtelli, his own climax still fresh, stepped forward to admire his handiwork. "Ah, such a shame," he murmured, his voice thick with a sadistic pleasure. "But what a way to go, eh?" He leaned down to whisper into Elena's ear, his breath hot and dark. "You see, I've always had a taste for the dramatic. And watching one of you succumb to pleasure while the other suffers... well, it's an art form, really."
Elena's eyes were glazed with shock, her body trembling as she took in the sight of Lila's lifeless form. The feathers, once instruments of their bond, were now stained with the grim reality of their situation. Don's henchmen dragged Lila's body away, leaving Elena alone in the stocks, her mind racing. Her grief and anger coalesced into a white-hot ball of rage, fueling her determination to survive, to escape, and to make him pay.
The mechanical arms retreated into the shadows, the feathers now stilled. Don Turtelli approached her, his breath reeking of satisfaction. "You did well," he purred, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "Now, it's your turn to truly understand what it means to be in my power." He flipped another switch, and the machines beneath her whirred back to life.
Elena's body tensed as the feathers resumed their relentless dance, now focused solely on her. She felt the pressure building, the sensation growing more intense with each stroke. Her mind screamed for it to stop, but her body had other plans. Her eyes darted to Lila's lifeless form, the guilt and horror mixing with the unwanted pleasure that coursed through her. She had to endure, for Lila, for herself, for the promise of revenge that now burned in her soul.
The feathers moved with a precision that seemed almost sentient, their gentle touches turning into a maelstrom of sensation. She clenched her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut, as the tickling grew more insistent. Each breath was a battle, each second an eternity. And then, it was too much. Her body arched, a scream escaping her as she climaxed against her will, the intense pleasure momentarily overriding the pain of her loss.
As she crumpled in the stocks, the feathers finally ceased their dance. The room was quiet except for the mechanical hum of the machines and the ragged breaths of the men who had watched with perverse enjoyment. Don Turtelli leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "Such a waste," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "But what a show."
The henchmen dragged Elena out of the stocks, her legs trembling as she tried to stand. She stared at Lila's lifeless body, a cold rage building within her. She knew she had to keep her wits about her, to find a way out of this hellhole. As Don Turtelli approached, she braced herself for the next round of his twisted games.
