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Strongly denied by the Nylon Dungeon folks: “Janet’s Escape" (M/F, 18+only)


2nd Level Green Feather
Apr 3, 2001
This story was originally submitted to TFTA, but it wasn’t accepted as the Nylon Dungeon series doesn’t allow any escapes by definition of the storyline. Of course, the leaders of the Nylon Dungeon could never admit that an escape has ever happened! :p

Janet’s Escape

Janet looked at her wristwatch. “Oh, shit, it’s already past midnight !” she murmured. Normally she would be in bed by eleven, she needed a lot of sleep. But tonight was different. She had cleaned the apartment today, and in Bob’s bedside table drawer she had found a magazine she had never seen before. It had a strange name: Tales from the Asylum. Now, what could that be, she had mused. She leafed through the pages, her amazement increasing every minute. The magazine was full of stories and pictures on tickling !

Why the heck did Bob read such stories ? They had a wonderful sex life, so it simply couldn’t be that he was bored sexually. Somehow her husband must be into that kinky stuff. He had never mentioned anything like that to her. But wait a minute: He had awakened her one day by tickling her feet which stuck out from under the coverlet; she had started to scream and made him promise never to do that again. She just couldn’t bear her feet getting touched, let alone tickled. She even had to do her pedicures herself, as her feet were sooo ticklish that she didn’t dare to go to a pedicure salon. And Bob had kept his promise.

If this magazine aroused Bob somehow, it was full of horror stories for Janet. But she liked the feeling of terror creeping down her spine when she watched a horror movie, even if she had to cover her eyes sometimes. After all, it was just a movie. So, despite the horrible scenery of helpless girls being captured, tied up and tortured by tickling, her mind got excited by the stories. She just couldn’t stop reading before the mag was finished.

Especially the “Nylon Dungeon” caught her attention. It did something strange to her: Although she shivered with terror, she felt her pussy becoming moist. She just had to read more of this, and fast. Bob was out with some of his friends, celebrating a friend’s birthday, so she had their home computer to herself that evening. She clicked into the internet and searched the address of MTJPub.com which was mentioned in the mag. There she found more stories on tickling, and she read them all. She absorbed the text and the drawings, finding more and more pleasure in them.

Then she made a complete search for the catchword “tickling”, and the amount of links and websites astonished her. There really must be a whole lot of people being into tickling, she thought. One address looked interesting: nylond.com. She clicked into the site, curious if this had something to do with the “Nylon Dungeon”. At first, she had to go through the usual procedure of ascertaining she was over 21, then a picture of a stockinged foot built up. “Welcome to the Nylon Dungeon”, the headline read. “To improve our services to our valued clients, we need to know more about you. Before you get access to the complete contents of our website, we’d like to ask you to fill in a short questionnaire. Please click ‘ready’ now.”

She did, and up came a new page. Simple questions on demographic data, like her age, her marital status, her gender. As she had clicked on “female”, the next page appeared on the screen. “Are you ticklish ?” Yes. “Which is your most ticklish spot ?” She clicked on ‘feet’. “Do you wear nylon stockings regularly ?” Occasionally. “Thank you for helping us. Now please get ready for entering the Nylon Dungeon by clicking on ‘Next’.” It took almost a minute before the next page built up. It was a rotating spiral in psychedelic colors. Looking at it made Janet somewhat dizzy. Maybe she was too tired already, but that picture somehow seemed to hypnotize her. She was forced to draw her face nearer and nearer to the screen, and suddenly she screamed: Like in a movie she had seen, her whole body was sucked in by the screen. She heard a strange sound like if somebody slurped hot soup from a spoon, then the lights went out.

When she opened her eyes once more, it remained dark. “Where am I ? What happened ?” Still a bit dizzy, she tried to sit up. Oh, my God ! She couldn’t ! Her wrists were tied upwards to some kind of frame, and the same had happened to her ankles. Suddenly, a harsh light blinded her momentarily. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the brightness, and she heard footsteps from outside the heavy oak door. “Help !!!” Janet screamed, as she was finally able to see her whereabouts: she lay on a large bed, stripped naked but for a pair of nylon stockings. The truth finally hit her: She had been abducted to the horrible Nylon Dungeon by her home computer ! Some technical genius must have found a way of transportation through the internet.

The steps approached, then a slightly gray-haired man in a three piece business suit entered the room. He smiled encouragingly as he addressed her: “Welcome to the ‘Nylon Dungeon’, the place where your worst dreams will come true.” Janet trembled with anticipation: “What are you going to do with me ? How did you get me here ? Please, oh please, release me !”

The man smirked. “We will tickle you whenever we like. And we got you here with an interesting invention of one of our members. It will spare us all the troubles of a physical abduction from now on. You were the first victim to experience this new method. Tell me, how did it feel to travel on the data highway with the speed of light ?” Janet’s mind had switched off as soon as she heard the word ‘tickle’. “Nooo !”, she screamed, “I’ll do everything if you don’t tickle me !” – “Sorry, my dear, but that’s exactly what you’re here for. Relax and enjoy it. It will be your last time to be tickled without the tickle serum. You’ve heard about that, haven’t you ? Yes, I can see it in your face. We always test the normal ticklishness first before applying the serum, to get a better evaluation of its results. Today I have been chosen to do so. Are you ready ?”

Janet was not, but before she could reply, she felt soft but strong fingers touch her right sole. She uttered an ear-shattering scream, followed by hysterical laughter. The one unthinkable thing she had feared most happened to her: her feet got tickled in earnest. She thrashed about on the bed like a madwoman, oblivious of her surroundings, and she laughed her head off. So intense was her torture, she couldn’t even plea for mercy.

After a while, her laughter became soundless, her screaming had overstrained her voice. The only sound she could produce was something like ‘Hhhhhhh, hhhhh, hhh, hhh, hhh’, and each breath ended in a faint squeak. Tears streamed from her squinted eyes and saliva dribbled from her wide-open mouth. She was bathed in sweat, and her muscles burned from the futile dragging at her bonds. Just as she thought the torture couldn’t get worse, the man started to tickle her left foot, and her agony went up a notch. Please, let me faint, she prayed silently. She wasn’t very far from this point anyway, but her torturer seemed to sense it: He stopped to give her a breather.

It took her the better part of ten minutes to breathe halfway normally. An evil smile on his face, her torturer soothed her by stroking softly over her hair. “Calm down, my darling,” he cooed. “We have all the time in the world. It’s no fun to tickle an unconscious girl. Tell me, how do you feel now ? Ready to continue ?” Janet gasped, and in a hoarse voice she protested: “No, nononono, please don’t ! I can’t take it, you’re killing me ! Please, mercymercymercy!” – “Oh, no need for thanking me. Merci means ‘thank you’ in French. But don’t worry, I’ll spare your feet for now. Ain’t I nice ?” He didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetoric question, instead his hands glided over Janet’s sweat-soaked upper body. Softly, gently at first, but that was enough for Janet to resume her tortured laughter.

“Hey, you’re too wet for efficient tickling,” he complained. “We have to do something about it.” He fetched a towel from a nearby cupboard and rubbed her dry. Janet was so sensitive everywhere by now that even that kind of touch tickled her like hell. To protect his hands from getting moist again, the torturer pulled a pair of nylons over his hands. “We’ll have to keep up the etiquette, don’t we ? After all, this is the Nylon Dungeon.”

Then he started the tickling anew. The nylons somehow enhanced Janet’s ticklishness as they moved over her stomach and ribcage, gliding softly over the sensitive skin sometimes, digging into her sides at other times. The constant change of tickling techniques drove Janet crazy. But the worst was still to come: His skilled fingers approached her underarms, and a new level of terror swept through the poor girl: If she was terribly ticklish on her feet, she was hypersensitive in her armpits. She didn’t have time to think about it, as a single fingertip on either side arrived there. They dabbled over the center and around the rims, then they dug in deeply. That was the worst ! She shook her head and tried desperately to breathe, but she simply couldn’t.

Once more, the cruel man stopped just in time to deprive her the relief of fainting. Oh, how she hoped the torture was over; anxiously she gulped for air. The strange man sat down at her bedside, rubbing her dry with another towel, gently soothing her. “My, you are ticklish alright, even without the serum. We’ll have a lot of fun together !” he remarked. As soon as Janet was able to speak again, she croaked: “How long will you keep me prisoner here ? Please, I promise not to say anything about you if you release me now. Just let me go, pleeeeze !”

Seriously, the man shook his head in negation. “Haven’t you read that the Nylon Dungeon keeps its prisoners forever ? That means, as long as they survive the tickling. Imagine your ticklish feet, your whole sensitive body being about 50 times more ticklish than normally after injection of the Tickle Serum, getting even more sensitive as the tickling continues… Considering your state of ticklishness right now, I guess you will have to expect two or three years of daily tickle torture before your first heart attack, as healthy as you appear to be. No, don’t even dare to think about an escape ! There is none. Not a single prisoner ever managed to get out of here. So, arrange yourself with these new surroundings.”

Janet gasped with despair. But the man continued. “Okay, you’ll get accustomed to it. The daily tickling will become a normal way of life for you. If you behave yourself, you may even take part in tickling other girls. That’s a lot of fun, letting out your own frustration by tickling somebody else, believe me. Some of the girls really like it. Let’s build up some more of that special kind of frustration. Hold on, I’m coming once more !”

He attacked her feet again which were much more sensitive after that little rest. She fell into complete hysteria at once as the fingers dug in beneath her toes. This time, the man laughed himself at Janet’s incredible reactions. Occasionally, his fingers wandered up to her knees and thighs, and this made Janet squeal even heavier.

He found out about the enormous ticklishness at Janet’s V-shaped loin crease. Concentrating there, he noticed how excited and puffed her pussy was. “Oh, we’re having a lot of fun, haven’t we ?” he grinned and slipped his hands into nylons once more. One hand keeping up the tickling on her loins, a single finger of the other hand repeatedly stroked over her pussy lips and clit. Janet couldn’t stop laughing, but to her extreme embarrassment she felt the ultimate humiliation of an oncoming forced orgasm build up inside her. That was a particularly sadistic kind of rape, she thought, holding herself back desperately. But the man destroyed her hopes: Suddenly he reached down to tickle her right foot again, while his other hand kept rubbing her pussy. That did it ! Jolting about on her bed like being electrocuted, wave after orgasmic wave of an incredibly intense climax shot through her, again and again, until her mind short-circuited. She had fainted, eventually.

After a unknown span of time, she was awakened by a gentle kiss on her neck, while a hand tapped her shoulder repeatedly. “Janet, hey Janet, are you okay ?” a voice called her. She jumped in shock, crying out instantly: “No, no more tickling, please !” The voice laughed. “What ? What are you talking about ?” Gradually she adjusted to reality, and she recognized the voice. It was Bob ! Her nightmare was over ! She had been dreaming all the time ! She felt so relieved that she almost peed in her pants. Jumping at Bob, she embraced him, almost crushing him with her kisses.

Bob had to laugh once more: “Hey baby, cool it, you’re hurting me. I didn’t expect such a passionate welcome. When I entered the lounge, I found you sleeping at the computer, so I switched it off. What happened ?”

As usually after a nightmare, she felt better after she had told him about her bad dreams. And she told him everything. Bob looked amused: “So you’ve been sniffing around in my personal things. And you got the proper punishment through your nightmare. Serves you right. But now, let’s got to bed, it’s already past three am.”

Later, in bed, she confessed one more thing to him: her incredible orgasm during the tickling. “Could we try that in real, honey ? Really soon ? But without the cruel torture ?” He thought about it, an incredulous look in his eyes: “You mean I may really tickle you ?” She nodded shyly. “And I may really tie you up for it ?” – “Yes, but you have to promise you’ll be very nice and gentle, not like the cruel man in my dream.” He let out a bellow of joy: “That’s paradise ! Oh, I promise to be nice ! If only I could tickle you right now !” And under the coverlet his hand reached around her hips, kneading the tender flesh he so loved. She squealed and fought back, starting to tickle him. A regular tickle fight erupted until both became so horny, they couldn’t hold back their arousal any more. It became a long night full of laughter and love…


Next morning, Janet stared at the computer with a pensive look in her eyes. Should she switch it on again ? She told herself: Either do it now, or you’ll never dare to work with it again. So she pushed the power button. The e-mail signal was flashing, and she opened her mailbox. Suddenly her eyes widened with sheer horror ! She read:

“Hi Janet, hope you had fun last night. You’re the first girl that ever escaped us. But we will overcome the technical problems, and then we will make you stay permanently. I’m looking forward to that day !

Greetings and kitchy-coo from the ND.”

So be careful what you’re wishing for when reading tickle stories on the internet! :p
Actually, Hal - this is a really good story. If there IS a way to engineer a successful escape from the Nylon Dungeon, I think you've found it.

I've never been able to work an escape scenario into the Nylon Dungeon series (something that Captain Spaulding, among others, reams me out about now and then) because I've never been able to come up with a way to resolve this dilemma: if an abductee should escape, wouldn't she come back within a day or two with every FBI agent in the land? And if that happens - no more stories! (If she goes to the FBI, and the FBI is crooked, and she lands back in the Dungeon - well, then it's not a "successful" escape, is it?)

Yours is actually a scenario that I could see working, though - in the sense that what happens to Janet is so utterly fantastical. In other words, even if she told someone, who would believe her? They'd all just think she was paddling without an oar in the water (or, if you prefer, a few sandwiches short of a picnic). You may have come across something very original here. I seem to remember Morandilas and I wrestling with this one for awhile.

Anyway, the story is really good, and thanks for your interest in the series!
Thanks, Daumantas. These words from the Nylon Dungeon's creator are praise indeed! :)

Usually I try to cook up a new scenario for each story, but the ND series was too fascinating to resist the temptation, even though I'm not into Nylons. Actually, I wrote this story with the tongue firmly in my cheek: I tried to tamper with the "unbreakable" reputation of that hallowed institution... :p

this was a great story. imagine going thru the computer into a fantasy like that. a virtual dream come true. although the torture would be sooo unbearable. hey where do i find these nylon dungeon stories? i am very interested in reading those. if only i could go thru my computer like alice thru the looking glass only instead of everything being backwards, everything would enhance my ticklish fetish. nice work

isabeau :bouncybou
isabeau{E} said:
hey where do i find these nylon dungeon stories? i am very interested in reading those.
Thanks for your kind words, Isabeau. The Nylon Dungeon was a story series within MTJ's "Tales from the Asylum", a print publication which is no longer produced. You can find the older issues here: http://www.mtjpub.com/tfta.html

I really loved TFTA! :cool2:

thank you Hal for that link. i will definitely check it out. and you are welcome about the kind words. your writing is very descriptive, i like it. keep it up

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