nytklee
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Part 5: Echoes of the Past
The weekend loomed like a storm cloud over Alex's fractured mind, the two weeks of gnawing anxiety leaving him desperate for any crumb of information about the sent video. But compliance was his only card to play. Friday evening, he spent hours in front of the mirror, applying heavy makeup: thick black eyeliner framing his eyes in a dramatic cat-eye style, layers of mascara lengthening his lashes, bold red lipstick outlining his lips in Scarlet Overkill's signature pout, and blush contouring his cheeks for that villainous glow. "If this doesn't earn me some mercy," he muttered to his reflection, "nothing will."
He slipped into the chiffon red cocktail dress, the light fabric swishing against his skin like a teasing whisper, its short hem barely covering his knees. Black sheer stockings came next, rolling up his shaved legs with a silky shiver, the material so thin it felt like nothing, and everything at once. Finally, the red stilettos, their pointed heels adding 5 inches to his height and arching his feet provocatively. "Perfect for torment," he sighed, clicking toward the loft door.
Dominic opened it with a wolfish grin, his eyes raking over Alex's form. "Scarlet, you outdid yourself. Heavy makeup suits you, makes those begging eyes pop. Dress is flirty, stockings sheer as hell, and those stilettos? We'll have them off soon enough."
Inside, Marcus and Trent waited by the bedroom door, the loft dimly lit with candles casting flickering shadows. "Damn, look at her," Marcus said, circling Alex like prey. "Chiffon flows so nicely....easy access. Stockings glistening already? Get on the bed, Scarlet. Time to bind you."
Trent nodded, his muscles flexing as he guided Alex to the king-sized bed. "Wrists first.Separately to the posts. Spread those arms wide."
Alex lay back, the chiffon dress riding up as Dominic tied his left wrist to one bedpost with soft rope, pulling it taut. "Like this? Snug, but not cutting circulation," Dominic asked, his voice low and intimate.
"Yeah... feels secure," Alex replied, a mix of dread and arousal stirring. Marcus handled the right wrist, looping the rope and yanking gently. "There, both arms outstretched. Can't shield yourself now."
Next, Trent knelt at the foot of the bed. "Ankles together. Tie 'em tight." He bound them with silk cord, then pulled the joined ankles off the edge of the bed, securing the rope to a hidden hook on the floor, stretching Alex's legs straight. "Pulled out like this, exposes those stocking feet perfectly."
Dominic finished with the knees and thighs, strapping leather bands around both, cinching them together. "Knees locked, thighs squeezed. No kicking, no closing up. Your ad's bonds, upgraded for the bedroom."
The position left Alex vulnerable: arms splayed, legs extended and immobilized, chiffon dress hiked to reveal sheer black stockings from thigh to toe. "Please... tell me about the video? Who got it?" Alex pleaded, heavy makeup already smudging slightly from nervous sweat.
Marcus chuckled, kicking off Alex's stilettos one by one. "Not yet, Scarlet. Tickle time first. We'll take turns, one or two at a time. Relax... or don't."
Trent started solo, his strong fingers lightly skratching the arches through the stockings. "Feel that? Sheer nylon makes every touch electric. Tickle tickle..."
Alex giggled immediately, body tugging against the ropes. "Heh... ahaha! Not the arches already....too sensitive!"
"Sensitive is the point," Trent growled, switching to a feather for gliding torment. "Beg nicer, Scarlet. 'Please, master, not my soles.'"
"Please... master, not my soles! Hahaha!" From somewhere nearby. Another room? A muffled sound echoed: a woman's gagged laughter, interspersed with desperate, wordless begging. "Mmmpph! Nnnooo... hahaha-mmph!"
Alex's eyes widened mid-laugh. "What... who's that? A woman?"
Trent paused, smirking. "Don't worry about her. Focus on your own feet." He resumed, now with two fingers under the toes. "Toes curling in those stockings. Adorable."
The sound persisted, the female's gagged pleas growing frantic. "Mmmph! Pleeease... stooop!" It fueled Alex's anxiety, his own laughter blending with hers.
Marcus entered next, joining Trent. "My turn to duo. Heard the neighbor? She's getting her own session." He used silk gloves, sliding over the soles. "Silky on sheer, glide and tickle. Laugh for us, Scarlet."
"Ahahaha! I can't... who's she? Tell me!" Alex begged, wrists straining against the posts, ankles pulling futilely.
Trent nibbled a stocking toe. "A surprise guest. But you? Exhaustion first." They tag-teamed: Marcus on arches, Trent on balls of the feet, dialogs overlapping. "Wiggle those toes!" "Nylons trapping the sensation. Beg louder!"
The female's muffled cries intensified nearby: "Hahaha-mmph! Mercy... mmph!"
Dominic swapped in, solo now as the others left. "Their break, my fun." He buzzed an electric toothbrush against the heels. "Vibrations through stockings. Intense, huh?"
"Too much! Ahaha! The woman... sounds exhausted too!"
"She is," Dominic admitted, pausing to massage thighs through the bands. "But submit first, Scarlet."
Hours blurred, turns rotating, one or two men at a time, tickling nonstop: feathers, fingers, brushes. Alex's heavy makeup ran with tears of laughter, chiffon dress damp, stockings slick. "I submit... exhausted... please rest!"
Finally, they untied partially, letting him curl on the bed for a short breather. "Ten minutes, Scarlet," Marcus said, exiting with the others. "Then more."
But soon, Trent reentered, carrying a bound woman over his shoulder like a sack. She was exhausted, limp but twitching, dressed in a deep navy business dress that hugged her curves, sheer grey pantyhose shimmering on her legs, black high heels still strapped on. A ball gag muffled her whimpers, a blindfold covered her eyes.
"Got our guest," Trent announced, dumping her gently onto the bed beside Alex. "Time to tie her proper."
The woman mumbled through the gag: "Mmmph... no more..."
Dominic and Marcus filed in, ropes ready. "Wrists to the posts... like Scarlet's," Dominic directed, securing her left arm.
Marcus handled the right: "Ankles together, pull 'em out." He tied them, stretching her legs off the bed, heels dangling.
Trent strapped her knees and thighs: "Tight together, immobilized. Look at those pantyhose, grey sheer, perfect for tickling."
Alex stared, horror dawning as he recognized the curve of her jaw, the familiar perfume wafting through. "Wait... that's... Emily? My ex-wife?"
Emily's blindfolded head turned toward his voice, gagged surprise: "Mmmph? Ale...x?"
The men laughed. "Surprise, Scarlet," Dominic said, removing her high heels. "She got the video. Now she's joining the fun. Ex-wife ticklee, meet your weekend partner."
To be continued......
The weekend loomed like a storm cloud over Alex's fractured mind, the two weeks of gnawing anxiety leaving him desperate for any crumb of information about the sent video. But compliance was his only card to play. Friday evening, he spent hours in front of the mirror, applying heavy makeup: thick black eyeliner framing his eyes in a dramatic cat-eye style, layers of mascara lengthening his lashes, bold red lipstick outlining his lips in Scarlet Overkill's signature pout, and blush contouring his cheeks for that villainous glow. "If this doesn't earn me some mercy," he muttered to his reflection, "nothing will."
He slipped into the chiffon red cocktail dress, the light fabric swishing against his skin like a teasing whisper, its short hem barely covering his knees. Black sheer stockings came next, rolling up his shaved legs with a silky shiver, the material so thin it felt like nothing, and everything at once. Finally, the red stilettos, their pointed heels adding 5 inches to his height and arching his feet provocatively. "Perfect for torment," he sighed, clicking toward the loft door.
Dominic opened it with a wolfish grin, his eyes raking over Alex's form. "Scarlet, you outdid yourself. Heavy makeup suits you, makes those begging eyes pop. Dress is flirty, stockings sheer as hell, and those stilettos? We'll have them off soon enough."
Inside, Marcus and Trent waited by the bedroom door, the loft dimly lit with candles casting flickering shadows. "Damn, look at her," Marcus said, circling Alex like prey. "Chiffon flows so nicely....easy access. Stockings glistening already? Get on the bed, Scarlet. Time to bind you."
Trent nodded, his muscles flexing as he guided Alex to the king-sized bed. "Wrists first.Separately to the posts. Spread those arms wide."
Alex lay back, the chiffon dress riding up as Dominic tied his left wrist to one bedpost with soft rope, pulling it taut. "Like this? Snug, but not cutting circulation," Dominic asked, his voice low and intimate.
"Yeah... feels secure," Alex replied, a mix of dread and arousal stirring. Marcus handled the right wrist, looping the rope and yanking gently. "There, both arms outstretched. Can't shield yourself now."
Next, Trent knelt at the foot of the bed. "Ankles together. Tie 'em tight." He bound them with silk cord, then pulled the joined ankles off the edge of the bed, securing the rope to a hidden hook on the floor, stretching Alex's legs straight. "Pulled out like this, exposes those stocking feet perfectly."
Dominic finished with the knees and thighs, strapping leather bands around both, cinching them together. "Knees locked, thighs squeezed. No kicking, no closing up. Your ad's bonds, upgraded for the bedroom."
The position left Alex vulnerable: arms splayed, legs extended and immobilized, chiffon dress hiked to reveal sheer black stockings from thigh to toe. "Please... tell me about the video? Who got it?" Alex pleaded, heavy makeup already smudging slightly from nervous sweat.
Marcus chuckled, kicking off Alex's stilettos one by one. "Not yet, Scarlet. Tickle time first. We'll take turns, one or two at a time. Relax... or don't."
Trent started solo, his strong fingers lightly skratching the arches through the stockings. "Feel that? Sheer nylon makes every touch electric. Tickle tickle..."
Alex giggled immediately, body tugging against the ropes. "Heh... ahaha! Not the arches already....too sensitive!"
"Sensitive is the point," Trent growled, switching to a feather for gliding torment. "Beg nicer, Scarlet. 'Please, master, not my soles.'"
"Please... master, not my soles! Hahaha!" From somewhere nearby. Another room? A muffled sound echoed: a woman's gagged laughter, interspersed with desperate, wordless begging. "Mmmpph! Nnnooo... hahaha-mmph!"
Alex's eyes widened mid-laugh. "What... who's that? A woman?"
Trent paused, smirking. "Don't worry about her. Focus on your own feet." He resumed, now with two fingers under the toes. "Toes curling in those stockings. Adorable."
The sound persisted, the female's gagged pleas growing frantic. "Mmmph! Pleeease... stooop!" It fueled Alex's anxiety, his own laughter blending with hers.
Marcus entered next, joining Trent. "My turn to duo. Heard the neighbor? She's getting her own session." He used silk gloves, sliding over the soles. "Silky on sheer, glide and tickle. Laugh for us, Scarlet."
"Ahahaha! I can't... who's she? Tell me!" Alex begged, wrists straining against the posts, ankles pulling futilely.
Trent nibbled a stocking toe. "A surprise guest. But you? Exhaustion first." They tag-teamed: Marcus on arches, Trent on balls of the feet, dialogs overlapping. "Wiggle those toes!" "Nylons trapping the sensation. Beg louder!"
The female's muffled cries intensified nearby: "Hahaha-mmph! Mercy... mmph!"
Dominic swapped in, solo now as the others left. "Their break, my fun." He buzzed an electric toothbrush against the heels. "Vibrations through stockings. Intense, huh?"
"Too much! Ahaha! The woman... sounds exhausted too!"
"She is," Dominic admitted, pausing to massage thighs through the bands. "But submit first, Scarlet."
Hours blurred, turns rotating, one or two men at a time, tickling nonstop: feathers, fingers, brushes. Alex's heavy makeup ran with tears of laughter, chiffon dress damp, stockings slick. "I submit... exhausted... please rest!"
Finally, they untied partially, letting him curl on the bed for a short breather. "Ten minutes, Scarlet," Marcus said, exiting with the others. "Then more."
But soon, Trent reentered, carrying a bound woman over his shoulder like a sack. She was exhausted, limp but twitching, dressed in a deep navy business dress that hugged her curves, sheer grey pantyhose shimmering on her legs, black high heels still strapped on. A ball gag muffled her whimpers, a blindfold covered her eyes.
"Got our guest," Trent announced, dumping her gently onto the bed beside Alex. "Time to tie her proper."
The woman mumbled through the gag: "Mmmph... no more..."
Dominic and Marcus filed in, ropes ready. "Wrists to the posts... like Scarlet's," Dominic directed, securing her left arm.
Marcus handled the right: "Ankles together, pull 'em out." He tied them, stretching her legs off the bed, heels dangling.
Trent strapped her knees and thighs: "Tight together, immobilized. Look at those pantyhose, grey sheer, perfect for tickling."
Alex stared, horror dawning as he recognized the curve of her jaw, the familiar perfume wafting through. "Wait... that's... Emily? My ex-wife?"
Emily's blindfolded head turned toward his voice, gagged surprise: "Mmmph? Ale...x?"
The men laughed. "Surprise, Scarlet," Dominic said, removing her high heels. "She got the video. Now she's joining the fun. Ex-wife ticklee, meet your weekend partner."
To be continued......
