Nylon Goth
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Ok - so it has taken me the best part of 2 years to bring this story to a close. Apologies for testing the patience of those who, every so often, have asked “so what did happen?” - that was very kind of you. This chapter is dedicated to Peter Chung, who I know will never read this, but my teenage self will always be grateful for his animated masterpiece, Aeon Flux. It changed my life.
As it’s been a while (and even I had to revisit the details of some of the characters) the first 6 parts are below:
Part 1
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...tly-f-m-intense-and-yes-lots-of-nylon.341048/
Part 2
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...ntense-denial-and-still-lots-of-nylon.341163/
Part 3
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...licit-lots-of-fiendish-women-in-nylon.341837/
Part 4
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...ial-even-more-fiendish-women-in-nylon.342473/
Part 5
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...-manner-of-nylon-clad-female-ticklers.342907/
Part 6
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...terrogation-and-plenty-of-fs-in-nylon.343183/
Love to the nylon tickling fans everywhere. Kx
Nylon Dungeon 2.0 Part 7
“You’re here to stay. Stay here in paradise.”
Fields of the Nephilim - “And there will your heart be also” - Elizium
Fifteen minutes later the prone body of the luckless Janet was wheeled into the interrogation suite on a large padded gurney. Her wrists secured above her head and ankles locked in heavy fur lined wooden stocks. Having been apprehended whilst “on duty” she was still dressed in her lacy neglige and incredibly fine, cream silk fully fashioned reinforced heel and toe stockings. She had also been gagged.
“Excellent!” Purred President Nielsen’s voice over the intercom. “Well my dear - you are a great disappointment to me. The lowest circle of hell was always reserved for the worst sinners, those that betrayed their benefactors and that’s exactly where we will be sending you!” Janet’s eyes widened, sending a pleading look towards Agent Stephen Graeme and she attempted to struggle in her restrictive bondage. “Lycacheva, position her so that our other guest can see every ticklish torture you minister upon her. I’m sure it will entertain him greatly. Oh, by the way traitor, he gave you up almost instantly on the promise he could watch your delicious ticklish suffering”.
“You lying bitch! It’s just mind games Janet! Stay strong!” bellowed Stephen. “Silence him!” Snarled Nielsen, her voice dripping with venom. “Insert a dental gag and stimulate the roof of his mouth with q-tips!”
Janet’s body was wheeled in front of the now vertical Stephen so her body was laid out in a tableaux before him. Two black stocking clad punishment technicians, in skimpy nurses uniforms, managed to insert the gag by tickling Stephen’s ribs until his body betrayed him and he had to draw a breath. They cranked his jaws apart, not to the point of pain, but ensuring they had unfettered access to his palate. They pulled up high stools and daintily perched on them, not neglecting to caress their victims legs with their soft black nylon soles and toes. They each had a q-tip which they swirled teasingly over his outstretched lips before methodically and ever so lightly stroking and tickling the hyper sensitive skin of the roof of his mouth.
Grace watched with something akin to horror as a stream of wordless, mewling, tortured babble and saliva escaped Stephen’s mouth. His own bondage meant the only part of his body which could move were his eyes which went from screwed shut to wide and wild and back again repeatedly. Were there no limits to the cruelties this place had to offer she desperately thought. She was about to find out that the delights of Nova Dea were bottomless. Her thoughts were interrupted as Magenta and the Red Devil stalked into the room in their stockinged feet. Magenta, Nova Dea’s finest and most feared upper body tickler, dressed in coffee coloured hold ups and semi sheer underwear. The Red Devil, dressed in her trademark red basque and sheer red stockings and suspenders, a punishment technician who had elevated foot tickling to an art form. Both had scores to settle having been duped and their eyes glittered with mischievous malice.
“Welcome ladies!” Boomed Nielsen’s voice in delight. “Now make her suffer!”
“To your positions my angels. The traitors’ middle is mine,” snapped Lycacheva. The Red Devil had selected a Pursonic toothbrush with the wishbone head attachment. She held back the toes of Janet’s left foot and played the instrument over her taut nylon sole. The buzzing prongs exciting the nerve endings of her high arch, amplified 20 fold by the insidious tickling serum. The heavy stocks made Janet’s feet perfectly vulnerable and she let out a stream of screaming giggles through her gag. The tips traced up and down her arch before swirling over her heel and lingering for a while on the ball of her foot. They glided over the silken stocking material which would have been almost unbearably ticklish even without the chemical enhancement. “This is just your starter course sweetie”, she whispered.
Magenta was less delicate. She inserted her long painted nails into Janet’s armpits and unleashed a flurry of strokes, flicks and light scratches. Janet’s forced mirth reached a new octave. She tried desperately to draw her arms to her sides. Magenta chuckled evilly and took to alternating between her pits and the skin of her excruciatingly ticklish inner biceps. Tears had started to appear in the corners of Janet’s eyes.
The Devil discarded her brush and used her long nails to tickle both of Janet’s feet simultaneously. She luxuriated in the feeling of the silken stocking material under her finger tips. She explored every wrinkle and square millimetre of Janet’s ticklish flesh. “The stocking is on the other foot now isn’t it sweetie! Think of all the sweet suffering you inflicted on our guests with your pretty feet and now it’s being paid back! Oh and judging by the impressive hard on your friend has, I think he is enjoying our little show,” she laughed. Stephen, despite the almost indescribable tickling of his palate was indeed ragingly errect. Dr Burden, the site Director, who up until this point had been a mute bystander, panicking about her future prospects, selected a large black ostrich plume feather duster and proceeded to swirl it over Stephen’s engorged head. Whether she was trying to curry favour with the President or indulging in a private kink, Grace Sparks never found out. He attempted to buck in his bondage to no avail and was powerless to prevent the fiendish feathering of his cock. A minute later the Presidents voice came back over the intercom, this time husky and breathless, “Oh Nina…you have somewhat…uuumm…redeemed….ooooh…yourself. That’s it, that’s iiiiit…tickle him senslessssss with your feathersaaaa.” The intercom snapped off as the President enjoyed yet another shuddering orgasm in her private viewing suite.
“Time for your tooooeeess!” Teased the Red Devil as she used her nails to explore Janet’s ten helpless digits. Caressesing and gently scratching at the reinforced stocking material that seperated her from her prey. This seemed to send Janet into an overdrive of hysterics. Magenta meanwhile had switched to tickling Janet’s neck despite her best efforts to draw her head back into her ravished body. Commissar Lycacheva who had been watching like a proud parent, stalked up to Janet’s body brandishing a pair of shiny silver scissors. She proceeded to cut her neglige and knickers away leaving her naked. “I have been neglecting you, my treacherous little *****,” she gloated. She selected two of her favoured raven feathers and began tracing them up and down Janet’s moistening lips, who in turn began to buck and writhe. “I’m going to do to you what the Red Guard did to Alexandra Fedorovna in Yekaterinburg before executing her as an enemy of the Revolution, she begged for death before the end. It’s too bad we won’t be able to hear you though,” she smiled cruelly. With infinite precision she applied the two feather tips to Janet’s clitoris and tickled over and over and over. The guttural shriek that burst from behind the gag was heart rending.
Something snapped in Grace Sparks. She was damned if she was going to be party to this circus of cruelty any longer. She slowly backed up to the wall behind her and surreptitiously used her elbow to activate one of the wall mounted fire alarms. Sirens immediately blared into life. Burdens cock teasing feather duster paused in mid stoke, Magenta and the Devils’ talons froze, the q-tip wielding nurses ceased, the 14 strong Seraphim presidential guard immediately came to gun wielding attention and Lycacheva’s head whipped round to focus on Grace, “Sparks, what is interrupting your Presidents pleasure?” she snarled. Grace fumbled for her neck mounted com pack and had a rapid and totally fictitious conversation with the security control room. “The two traitors have planted a suspected explosive device in our on site ammonia plant,” she lied. “My people have found it and are in the process of neutralising it however I strongly recommend we temporarily evacuate the President and all of you to the safe rooms on level -3”.
“I will not risk my personal safety!” Boomed the Presidents voice over the intercom. “Seraphim! To me! We do as the Commander says. Dr Burden you are coming too, you have failed me for the last time! Lychacheva bring her!” The room emptied of Seraphim, torturers, punishment technicians and an ashen faced site Director Burden as quickly as it had originally filled up. Grace had gambled that as Head of Security the fate of the two prisoners would be left to her. It had paid off.
She rapidly deactivated all the infernal devices that had been attached to Stephen, gently removed the dental gag and undid the straps, shackles and restraints that had bound him. He slumped and virtually fell into her arms breathing hoarsely. “Can you walk?” she whispered. “I’ll bloody well walk out of here,” he answered, some of his resolve returning. She found him a gown to clothe his nakedness and then began to untether Janet. She was unconscious, Lycacheva having pushed her over the edge. “What prompted the change of heart Commander Sparks?” Stephen asked, some of his strength returning. “Honour,” she muttered. “We don’t have long until they discover this is a false alarm. The Presidents chopper will be on the roof, I am presuming you can fly it because otherwise all three of would be better off dead than taken alive!” Stephen nodded. “It’s directly above our heads, I’ll wheel her so far but you’ll need to carry her the last part, can you manage?” He nodded again with the hint of a smile “ you are a dark horse infantry woman Sparks.”
After checking her service revolver was fully loaded, they slowly and cautiously made their way to the nearest service elevator and on to the roof. The gleaming black Sikorsky VH-3D Sea King was waiting as Grace had promised. They had nearly crossed the wide expanse of the ashphalted helipad when the first piece of ill luck befell them. To their right Seraphim Praetorian guards were streaming from a door to the left of the Sea King. As the bullets began to crack and whine around them they managed to put the chopper in between themselves and their assailants. “I’ll draw them off,” panted Grace upholstering her pistol. “Get her in that chopper and get airborne, with or without me - this evil lunatic needs to be stopped!”
“I see you have finally picked a side, soldier, you really are very brave,” Stephen gasped, covering as much ground with the unwieldy gurney as possible. “If we get separated look for me in London, the Blue Posts, Berwick street. Got it?” She nodded and for the first time in what felt like an age smiled despite everything, before speeding away to the left drawing fire as she went. She raced for the cover of the nearest air conditioning towers that ringed the edge of the building. All the time sensing with increasing panic that her pursuers were gaining. She loosed off a few shots blindly behind her before careering round the corner of the nearest tower when fate once more rolled her loaded dice. Her shiny black nylon covered soles gave her no grip and her feet skidded on the polished roof tiles and she windmilled toward the low railing that marked the very edge of the 10 storey Nova Dea tower. For one glorious, hopeful moment she thought it would stay her fall but her momentum was enough to pitch her over it and headlong into the void. A heartbeat later her spirit left this world as her body was dashed on the parking lot below.
Having manhandled Janet into the chopper, Stephen brought it to life, thankful that it was as bullet proof as the average tank, at least to small arms munitions. Waiting as long as he dared he gunned the gyro blades and inched into the air. Within a minute the Sea King was no more than a dot in the sky.
President Imogen Nielsen watched the entire unfolding drama on a large plasma screen monitor with an unexpected smile on her lips. “My this one has spirit! I do so like it when they run. Lycacheva! Are the homing transmitters working as you promised?”
“Yes Miss President!” The Commissar answered confidently. “Good. Have them intercepted wherever they land and brought directly to Elizium as my personal play things. We can do things there that even Nova Dea has never dared to dream of!”
Epilogue
Former Site Director Nina Burden slowly opened her eyes. She tried to make sense of her surroundings. They seemed vaguely familiar. She was lying, naked apart from her charcoal grey stockings on a concrete floor in a corridor lined with doors. Cell doors…And all of these doors were slowly opening and their nylon tickling obsessed and sex starved occupants were beginning to emerge with hungry grins on their faces…..
Epilogue ll
Grace Sparks was reclining on a bed set upon the columned terrace of a timeless palace that she somehow knew was called Zakros. Perched on high cliffs, a swift sunrise turned the sea below to molten gold. Two naked and bronzed adonises appeared at her feet who, in another time and another age, might have been known by the names of Achilles and Paris. They gently massaged her feet, soothing away all the pains and weariness of our world as the sun and the stars wheeled overhead and achingly beautiful music filled the ancient air. “Elizium”, she sighed.
As it’s been a while (and even I had to revisit the details of some of the characters) the first 6 parts are below:
Part 1
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...tly-f-m-intense-and-yes-lots-of-nylon.341048/
Part 2
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...ntense-denial-and-still-lots-of-nylon.341163/
Part 3
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...licit-lots-of-fiendish-women-in-nylon.341837/
Part 4
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...ial-even-more-fiendish-women-in-nylon.342473/
Part 5
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...-manner-of-nylon-clad-female-ticklers.342907/
Part 6
https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...terrogation-and-plenty-of-fs-in-nylon.343183/
Love to the nylon tickling fans everywhere. Kx
Nylon Dungeon 2.0 Part 7
“You’re here to stay. Stay here in paradise.”
Fields of the Nephilim - “And there will your heart be also” - Elizium
Fifteen minutes later the prone body of the luckless Janet was wheeled into the interrogation suite on a large padded gurney. Her wrists secured above her head and ankles locked in heavy fur lined wooden stocks. Having been apprehended whilst “on duty” she was still dressed in her lacy neglige and incredibly fine, cream silk fully fashioned reinforced heel and toe stockings. She had also been gagged.
“Excellent!” Purred President Nielsen’s voice over the intercom. “Well my dear - you are a great disappointment to me. The lowest circle of hell was always reserved for the worst sinners, those that betrayed their benefactors and that’s exactly where we will be sending you!” Janet’s eyes widened, sending a pleading look towards Agent Stephen Graeme and she attempted to struggle in her restrictive bondage. “Lycacheva, position her so that our other guest can see every ticklish torture you minister upon her. I’m sure it will entertain him greatly. Oh, by the way traitor, he gave you up almost instantly on the promise he could watch your delicious ticklish suffering”.
“You lying bitch! It’s just mind games Janet! Stay strong!” bellowed Stephen. “Silence him!” Snarled Nielsen, her voice dripping with venom. “Insert a dental gag and stimulate the roof of his mouth with q-tips!”
Janet’s body was wheeled in front of the now vertical Stephen so her body was laid out in a tableaux before him. Two black stocking clad punishment technicians, in skimpy nurses uniforms, managed to insert the gag by tickling Stephen’s ribs until his body betrayed him and he had to draw a breath. They cranked his jaws apart, not to the point of pain, but ensuring they had unfettered access to his palate. They pulled up high stools and daintily perched on them, not neglecting to caress their victims legs with their soft black nylon soles and toes. They each had a q-tip which they swirled teasingly over his outstretched lips before methodically and ever so lightly stroking and tickling the hyper sensitive skin of the roof of his mouth.
Grace watched with something akin to horror as a stream of wordless, mewling, tortured babble and saliva escaped Stephen’s mouth. His own bondage meant the only part of his body which could move were his eyes which went from screwed shut to wide and wild and back again repeatedly. Were there no limits to the cruelties this place had to offer she desperately thought. She was about to find out that the delights of Nova Dea were bottomless. Her thoughts were interrupted as Magenta and the Red Devil stalked into the room in their stockinged feet. Magenta, Nova Dea’s finest and most feared upper body tickler, dressed in coffee coloured hold ups and semi sheer underwear. The Red Devil, dressed in her trademark red basque and sheer red stockings and suspenders, a punishment technician who had elevated foot tickling to an art form. Both had scores to settle having been duped and their eyes glittered with mischievous malice.
“Welcome ladies!” Boomed Nielsen’s voice in delight. “Now make her suffer!”
“To your positions my angels. The traitors’ middle is mine,” snapped Lycacheva. The Red Devil had selected a Pursonic toothbrush with the wishbone head attachment. She held back the toes of Janet’s left foot and played the instrument over her taut nylon sole. The buzzing prongs exciting the nerve endings of her high arch, amplified 20 fold by the insidious tickling serum. The heavy stocks made Janet’s feet perfectly vulnerable and she let out a stream of screaming giggles through her gag. The tips traced up and down her arch before swirling over her heel and lingering for a while on the ball of her foot. They glided over the silken stocking material which would have been almost unbearably ticklish even without the chemical enhancement. “This is just your starter course sweetie”, she whispered.
Magenta was less delicate. She inserted her long painted nails into Janet’s armpits and unleashed a flurry of strokes, flicks and light scratches. Janet’s forced mirth reached a new octave. She tried desperately to draw her arms to her sides. Magenta chuckled evilly and took to alternating between her pits and the skin of her excruciatingly ticklish inner biceps. Tears had started to appear in the corners of Janet’s eyes.
The Devil discarded her brush and used her long nails to tickle both of Janet’s feet simultaneously. She luxuriated in the feeling of the silken stocking material under her finger tips. She explored every wrinkle and square millimetre of Janet’s ticklish flesh. “The stocking is on the other foot now isn’t it sweetie! Think of all the sweet suffering you inflicted on our guests with your pretty feet and now it’s being paid back! Oh and judging by the impressive hard on your friend has, I think he is enjoying our little show,” she laughed. Stephen, despite the almost indescribable tickling of his palate was indeed ragingly errect. Dr Burden, the site Director, who up until this point had been a mute bystander, panicking about her future prospects, selected a large black ostrich plume feather duster and proceeded to swirl it over Stephen’s engorged head. Whether she was trying to curry favour with the President or indulging in a private kink, Grace Sparks never found out. He attempted to buck in his bondage to no avail and was powerless to prevent the fiendish feathering of his cock. A minute later the Presidents voice came back over the intercom, this time husky and breathless, “Oh Nina…you have somewhat…uuumm…redeemed….ooooh…yourself. That’s it, that’s iiiiit…tickle him senslessssss with your feathersaaaa.” The intercom snapped off as the President enjoyed yet another shuddering orgasm in her private viewing suite.
“Time for your tooooeeess!” Teased the Red Devil as she used her nails to explore Janet’s ten helpless digits. Caressesing and gently scratching at the reinforced stocking material that seperated her from her prey. This seemed to send Janet into an overdrive of hysterics. Magenta meanwhile had switched to tickling Janet’s neck despite her best efforts to draw her head back into her ravished body. Commissar Lycacheva who had been watching like a proud parent, stalked up to Janet’s body brandishing a pair of shiny silver scissors. She proceeded to cut her neglige and knickers away leaving her naked. “I have been neglecting you, my treacherous little *****,” she gloated. She selected two of her favoured raven feathers and began tracing them up and down Janet’s moistening lips, who in turn began to buck and writhe. “I’m going to do to you what the Red Guard did to Alexandra Fedorovna in Yekaterinburg before executing her as an enemy of the Revolution, she begged for death before the end. It’s too bad we won’t be able to hear you though,” she smiled cruelly. With infinite precision she applied the two feather tips to Janet’s clitoris and tickled over and over and over. The guttural shriek that burst from behind the gag was heart rending.
Something snapped in Grace Sparks. She was damned if she was going to be party to this circus of cruelty any longer. She slowly backed up to the wall behind her and surreptitiously used her elbow to activate one of the wall mounted fire alarms. Sirens immediately blared into life. Burdens cock teasing feather duster paused in mid stoke, Magenta and the Devils’ talons froze, the q-tip wielding nurses ceased, the 14 strong Seraphim presidential guard immediately came to gun wielding attention and Lycacheva’s head whipped round to focus on Grace, “Sparks, what is interrupting your Presidents pleasure?” she snarled. Grace fumbled for her neck mounted com pack and had a rapid and totally fictitious conversation with the security control room. “The two traitors have planted a suspected explosive device in our on site ammonia plant,” she lied. “My people have found it and are in the process of neutralising it however I strongly recommend we temporarily evacuate the President and all of you to the safe rooms on level -3”.
“I will not risk my personal safety!” Boomed the Presidents voice over the intercom. “Seraphim! To me! We do as the Commander says. Dr Burden you are coming too, you have failed me for the last time! Lychacheva bring her!” The room emptied of Seraphim, torturers, punishment technicians and an ashen faced site Director Burden as quickly as it had originally filled up. Grace had gambled that as Head of Security the fate of the two prisoners would be left to her. It had paid off.
She rapidly deactivated all the infernal devices that had been attached to Stephen, gently removed the dental gag and undid the straps, shackles and restraints that had bound him. He slumped and virtually fell into her arms breathing hoarsely. “Can you walk?” she whispered. “I’ll bloody well walk out of here,” he answered, some of his resolve returning. She found him a gown to clothe his nakedness and then began to untether Janet. She was unconscious, Lycacheva having pushed her over the edge. “What prompted the change of heart Commander Sparks?” Stephen asked, some of his strength returning. “Honour,” she muttered. “We don’t have long until they discover this is a false alarm. The Presidents chopper will be on the roof, I am presuming you can fly it because otherwise all three of would be better off dead than taken alive!” Stephen nodded. “It’s directly above our heads, I’ll wheel her so far but you’ll need to carry her the last part, can you manage?” He nodded again with the hint of a smile “ you are a dark horse infantry woman Sparks.”
After checking her service revolver was fully loaded, they slowly and cautiously made their way to the nearest service elevator and on to the roof. The gleaming black Sikorsky VH-3D Sea King was waiting as Grace had promised. They had nearly crossed the wide expanse of the ashphalted helipad when the first piece of ill luck befell them. To their right Seraphim Praetorian guards were streaming from a door to the left of the Sea King. As the bullets began to crack and whine around them they managed to put the chopper in between themselves and their assailants. “I’ll draw them off,” panted Grace upholstering her pistol. “Get her in that chopper and get airborne, with or without me - this evil lunatic needs to be stopped!”
“I see you have finally picked a side, soldier, you really are very brave,” Stephen gasped, covering as much ground with the unwieldy gurney as possible. “If we get separated look for me in London, the Blue Posts, Berwick street. Got it?” She nodded and for the first time in what felt like an age smiled despite everything, before speeding away to the left drawing fire as she went. She raced for the cover of the nearest air conditioning towers that ringed the edge of the building. All the time sensing with increasing panic that her pursuers were gaining. She loosed off a few shots blindly behind her before careering round the corner of the nearest tower when fate once more rolled her loaded dice. Her shiny black nylon covered soles gave her no grip and her feet skidded on the polished roof tiles and she windmilled toward the low railing that marked the very edge of the 10 storey Nova Dea tower. For one glorious, hopeful moment she thought it would stay her fall but her momentum was enough to pitch her over it and headlong into the void. A heartbeat later her spirit left this world as her body was dashed on the parking lot below.
Having manhandled Janet into the chopper, Stephen brought it to life, thankful that it was as bullet proof as the average tank, at least to small arms munitions. Waiting as long as he dared he gunned the gyro blades and inched into the air. Within a minute the Sea King was no more than a dot in the sky.
President Imogen Nielsen watched the entire unfolding drama on a large plasma screen monitor with an unexpected smile on her lips. “My this one has spirit! I do so like it when they run. Lycacheva! Are the homing transmitters working as you promised?”
“Yes Miss President!” The Commissar answered confidently. “Good. Have them intercepted wherever they land and brought directly to Elizium as my personal play things. We can do things there that even Nova Dea has never dared to dream of!”
Epilogue
Former Site Director Nina Burden slowly opened her eyes. She tried to make sense of her surroundings. They seemed vaguely familiar. She was lying, naked apart from her charcoal grey stockings on a concrete floor in a corridor lined with doors. Cell doors…And all of these doors were slowly opening and their nylon tickling obsessed and sex starved occupants were beginning to emerge with hungry grins on their faces…..
Epilogue ll
Grace Sparks was reclining on a bed set upon the columned terrace of a timeless palace that she somehow knew was called Zakros. Perched on high cliffs, a swift sunrise turned the sea below to molten gold. Two naked and bronzed adonises appeared at her feet who, in another time and another age, might have been known by the names of Achilles and Paris. They gently massaged her feet, soothing away all the pains and weariness of our world as the sun and the stars wheeled overhead and achingly beautiful music filled the ancient air. “Elizium”, she sighed.
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