DrBabinski
TMF Master
- Joined
- Nov 25, 2007
- Messages
- 607
- Points
- 28
Hello folks. Last year I spent a lot of time reading stories in this forum. Some of them were not interesting (for my taste, of course, nobody get offended), some were nice, some of them really excellent. Talking with some of the author I did a preliminary experiment submitting a Google-translated story from my own creation, to see if the meaning and the sentences were acceptable (I do not blindy believe in IA translation) and after their green light I decided to post a new story.
I found this story a lot of years ago, at the dawn of internet: it was on a French site called "l'initiation", handled by Peheff, maybe the older among you can remind it. BTW, the story in this website were so envolving and elaborate I translate them in Italian (my mother language) modifiying them to make them more close to my taste.
In any case, I want to specify, despite the following story is re-elaborated by me, the original subject comes from l'initiation and (I suppose) Peheff, so I want to make clear I don't want to steal the credits for the excellent starting base. I don't know if he never had his stories translated in English, however this one is, once again, not the original, just a "reboot".
Keep in mind that it has been translated by the IA and quickly manually checked, so something wrong could happen. Let me know if you enjoyit, if it is understandable enough, and if you like want me to keep posting the other episodes.
I'll wait for yor feedback.
EDIT: according to the feedback provided by some of you, I've corrected (I hope) all the mistakes about he/she and him/her, so now the story should be fine.
Disregarding Chloe's pleading look, the guards dragged her recklessly to the examination table. She was forced to lie there, naked, and strapped down, her arms stretched out at ninety degrees to either side of her, her legs spread. Once the operation was over, they quickly retreated and let the doctors do their work. Advancing toward the immobilized young woman, they approached the trolleys holding their instruments. Immediately, without even being touched, the prisoner began to cry from the feeling of helplessness. She struggled against her bonds, trying to tear her gag with her teeth, realizing she was about to be tortured once again. But it was always the same ritual during the sessions: initially the interminable wait, which was already a torture in itself. Afterward, the guards would come to find her in her cell and carry her, bound, on a stretcher to the examination room. After that, she was immobilized again, this time on the torture table. And there, the medical staff took over: the tests could begin.
Aurelia, the chief physician who directed all the sessions, was already preparing her usual injection: a clear liquid whose name Chloe was unaware of. The woman inserted the needle into her arm with her usual dexterity, born of experience, and injected the first product. Desperate, Chloe was already considering its effects as the serum spread through her system: her head was spinning, and she felt confused and oppressed. Aurelia carefully checked the dilation of her pupils using a small light, then, once she confirmed that the drug was starting to work, she prepared the next injection. This time, it was the opaque liquid, whose terrifying properties the young woman was unaware of. Shortly after the injection, Chloe felt the first signs of forced sexual arousal: her nipples hardening, the heat slowly radiating from her womb, and above all, the increased sensitivity of her skin.
Again, Aurelia took a few moments to check if the product was taking full effect. Then, when she was certain, she turned to her colleagues and exclaimed, in the tone of someone who loves her job: "It's ready. Ladies, let the games begin!"
The three women in white blouses approached Chloe, who was in a state of total panic. The first of them, a cold-beautiful blonde named Tanja, tickled her armpits, using small, careful gestures that bespoke the specialized training she had received. Chloe tensed with her entire body and immediately burst into laughter into her gag. The blonde played with it, teasing rather than actually tickling, so as to be able to increase the intensity of the sensations later. However, she then began to descend, taking small steps, to her victim's ribs, torturing them with light pinches, eliciting sharp complaints from the poor girl. For her part, Chloe struggled frantically against the restraints, hoping to lower her arms, thus protecting her exposed, vulnerable chest. Obviously, it was futile, as she only tired herself out, further weakening her resistance, already weakened by the drugs.
Only a few minutes into the ordeal, the torture gained even more intensity when the other two doctors, who had remained inactive until now, watching their prisoner's violent contortions, sprang into action. Taking calligraphy brushes from the tool cart, they grasped Chloe's big toes, forced them to extend, and began tickling her feet, each on her own. From heel to toe, with perfectly controlled movements, they exploited the precision of their instruments with visible delight to send their victim to hell, while their colleague continued tickling her under the arms.
The young woman, who had already been unable to tolerate the first touches, went mad under the combined effects of all these sensations. Her field of vision narrowed to a minimum, all her senses tuned to contact, and overwhelmed by the force of sensations so devastating they were like a raging torrent sweeping everything in its path. She floated elsewhere, lost in an ocean of torture, clinging to her sanity like a piece of wreckage to keep from sinking completely. Her bare chest heaved irregularly, in time with her hysterical laughter and occasionally her demon-driven screams when a particularly sensitive spot was found. The women torturing her feet had attacked one of her weak spots: the middle of her soles. The screams then came out in fits and starts, unbearable despite the gag, but encouraging to the professionals present. But the worst was yet to come.
At a gesture from Aurelia, the torture stopped. Chloe watched her, breathing shallowly and panting, through a haze, as she circled the torture table. With a cruel smile, she picked up a vibrator from the trolley. Gently brandishing it on her fingertips and gently placing it on her open vulva, she said to the young woman in a falsely polite tone, "Should we get to the heart of the matter now?"
Chloe awoke screaming, covered in sweat. She had been on the run for nearly six months, but she continued to relive the worst moments of her captivity in her dreams, as if a part of her still existed in the hands of her torturers. Carried away by the violence of her nightmare, she jumped up and sat down on the mattress. Confused, she took her face in her hands and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Just as she was about to burst into sobs, she felt the caress of a female arm gently encircling her shoulders. That of her partner, Marina, who had been living with her for several weeks. Their relationship had allowed the young woman to gradually climb back up the ladder. Even though she lived in terror of being captured again, Marina had taught her, step by step, to trust again. First in herself, then in others. It had been a long journey, but with calm the young woman had managed to overcome every obstacle until today. Of course, Chloe hadn't told her her story, fearing she wouldn't believe it, but her companion knew that would come in time. In a motherly tone, she whispered, "Come on, darling, it's over... you're not alone anymore." She kissed her cheek, then continued, "You're strong now. We're both strong. They can't do anything to you anymore."
“They…” Chloe sobbed.
“Them what?”
“…They were all women.”
Marina bit her lip. Would she finally talk to her? “Go on.”
Chloe looked into her eyes, despite the dim light in the room. She gave her an awkward smile. "No, forget it, I don't really want to talk about it. Sorry, I'm not ready. Not yet."
Hiding her disappointment, Marina placed her lips on those of her beloved for a tender kiss. Her tongue lovingly caressed Chloe's, who immediately surrendered, slowly forgetting her nightmare. Embracing her, the young woman slid her hands under her companion's T-shirt and, with a gentle pressure, invited her to lie down. "Sleep, my love, there's no reason to have any more bad dreams."
The next morning, Marina woke before Chloe. She rose quietly and went to do her toilette, then got dressed. While putting on her clothes, she saw her companion wake up. As she blinked and delicately stood up, Marina waved at her, like a puppet, and greeted her with a "good morning." She added that she was going to prepare breakfast, and faced with the young woman's bland reaction, she grabbed a pillow and threw it, hitting her square in the face. Chloe took the impact without flinching, then grabbed the pillow with both hands and leapt from the bed to attack her friend, laughing. She delivered a series of blows that forced her to retreat, her arms protecting her head. Then, at the opportune moment, she grabbed Chloe's wrists and gave her a grip that knocked her to the floor. She then leaned on her with all his weight to prevent her from getting up, still holding her with his arms, and tried to hug her, but Chloe was shaking her head from side to side to prevent her. Marina then freed one arm and tickled her side by surprise. Chloe's reaction was extreme: she shrieked in terror and threw her little friend recklessly onto her side, with all her strength. Marina hit her head violently against the foot of the bed, so hard that she was momentarily stunned. When she regained full consciousness, she saw Chloe leaning on her, her expression contrite. And deep in her eyes, Marina saw that something was wrong. The young woman had reacted instinctively, like a cat locked in a corner, scratching and biting everything within reach. What seemed strange was that it wasn't the struggle that had caused this fit, but the tickling. How could this be?
Slowly, Marina, supported by Chloe's arm, rose. The young woman apologized pitifully and tried to caress her face, but her friend gently but firmly rejected her hand. It was no longer time to play, she had to know: “I've had enough, Chloe. I think I've been patient enough with you, perhaps too much. I understand that you don't want to tell me everything. You look like you've been through hell. But you can't ask me to help you the way I do, to watch over you every day, and at the same time refuse to trust me. I can't stand it anymore. You said you would, but until I know what's tormenting you, they'll remain empty words. So listen carefully: I'm going to the kitchen to make breakfast and I'll let you think about what I just told you. Come join me whenever you want, but if you do, you have to tell me everything. Because if you don't, I swear, Chloe, I'll leave without looking back. I can't stay with a girl who tells me she wants me and at the same time isn't capable of opening her heart to me. It's up to you.”
Marina turned and walked out, leaving Chloe devastated on the edge of the bed. She was sorry for having treated her so roughly, but she told herself there was no other solution. She was fed up with being unable to sleep at night because of her partner's nightmares, her strange reactions like her panic at hospitals, or even her paranoia whenever a suspicious vehicle parked at their house. Chloe had refused to talk about it to anyone, including psychologists, despite Marina's insistence. She seemed to fear someone would find her and take her away, to make her suffer God knew what. Marina had a small idea: she had recognized the symptoms of torture, but had never been able to get Chloe to tell her exactly what it was. Until last night: she now knew she was afraid of a group of women. But that didn't help her much. Shaking her head as if to chase away these thoughts, she made breakfast, as she had said, hoping Chloe would make a good decision. She didn't really want to carry out her threat, but she had been sincere: she couldn't continue like this.
It wasn't long before Chloe appeared at the door, barely a few minutes later. She advanced into the kitchen, her steps hesitant but her gaze resolute. Marina immediately saw that she had been crying, but decided to let her have breakfast. It was clear that the girl was fighting an internal war.
Her companion drank from the cup, dipping some biscuits, her eyes shining and her chin trembling, without saying a word. Then, finally, she looked up at her.
“So?” Marina asked, looking her straight in the eye, trying not to look too tense. “What have you decided?”
Chloe's gaze was unreadable. She seemed to have genuine trust, for the first time. But also full of terror.
“Okay, Marina. I don't want to lose you. But you have to promise me that whatever I tell you, not only won't you repeat it, but you'll believe me at my word. Even if what I say seems incredible to you. Do you promise?”
Marina stepped forward and took her friend in her arms reassuringly. “Of course, little star. Whatever you’ve been through, I’ve seen how it’s affected you. You don’t have to worry, you know you can trust me.”
Chloe replied with a smile. “There's one more condition, which will make you understand how much I trust you, and without which I know I'd never be able to fully unburden myself enough to talk to you.”
"Tell me."
“You must also do what I'm about to ask without arguing. I know it will seem strange to you, and that you'll think you're about to hurt me. You will, indeed, but not this much. And you must ignore my pleas to stop.”
“But what are you saying?” Marina asked her, worried.
“I know, I wouldn't be able to speak if it weren't for the threat of unbearable torture.”
“Torture? What are you talking about?”
“That's right, Marina. Take it or leave it. Because I want to trust you, but I know that without a violent incentive I could never leave.”
Her companion weighed her words. What on earth did her young friend mean? She certainly didn't want to torture her; she'd surely been through enough already to make the situation worse, but Chloe was staring at her. "Fine. I'll do what you say without arguing. What should I do?"
Chloe took two deep breaths, then spoke: “Now let’s go over there and you will have to tie me to the bed, my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed.”
Marina was very perplexed, but decided to indulge her friend.
The two returned to the bedroom, and Chloe lay down in the center of the large bed while Marina took some soft white ropes that had originally been used to tie the curtains. As she pinned her friend down, she noticed her teary eyes and her instinctive movements as she gradually realized she was a prisoner.
He tightened all the strings and asked: “And now?”
Chloe took a dozen deep breaths this time. “Now take a pair of scissors and cut off all my clothes. Take off my socks, too. I have to be completely naked. And leave the light on. And don't stop, even if I cry!”
Marina flinched at that request. Chloe had never shown herself completely naked to her, and had always insisted the lights be turned off when they made love. Above all, she had never removed her socks. She had never let her see her bare feet. "But..."
“Just do it!” she replied, almost shouting. “Or I won’t have the courage to ask you again.”
“Okay, don't worry,” she said, giving her a peck of encouragement. Then she realized that as she removed her socks, revealing her meticulously manicured feet, her friend was trembling. And when she removed her bra and panties, Chloe was crying profusely and straining at the ropes. “Okay, that's enough, there's no need to continue, I'm going to release you now…”
“No!” she sobbed. “Leave me alone! I’ll get over it now…”
Marina complied, sitting next to her and stroking her face. The therapy seemed to work, and five minutes later, after wiping away all her tears and helping her blow her nose, Chloe was ready to continue.
“Good, I’m calm now,” she said finally, though her unsteady voice indicated that this wasn’t entirely true. “Take the vibrator and make me orgasm.”
Marina's eyes widened, and she couldn't believe her ears. Orgasms were another huge taboo for her friend. It had taken a long time before she'd let her touch her there, but even when it happened, she'd never wanted to go any further. She could feel her getting wet, very wet, but when her breathing began to labor, she'd make her remove her hands.
“Yes Marina, now you have to touch me and masturbate me, and even when I change my mind later and beg you to stop, you have to make me cum.”
"But…"
“No buts. You promised me. Just do it.”
It took a little less than a quarter of an hour to achieve the result, but getting there was excruciating. Chloe, at the first signs of intense arousal, had begun to feel fearful, and predictably, she had asked her partner to stop. Chloe, faithful to her requests, however, had not stopped. Reluctantly, because her friend was truly desperate, but if Chloe had asked for it herself, she would have complied. A sort of Ulysses with the Sirens, only this time the Sirens were internal contractions of a pleasure denied for too long, and after Chloe had stopped moaning with pleasure, she was crying again, this time with happiness.
Again, Marina gave her time to recover, dried her eyes and nose, and then listened to the new request.
“Now you're going to have to tickle me. My armpits, my sides, but especially the soles of my feet. And this time too, ignore my pleas. You have exactly one minute to make me laugh and scream. Don't ever stop.”
And so it was, although it took Chloe only a few seconds to beg her to stop, and then spent the rest of the time writhing and laughing her head off.
Once the storm had passed, and Marina had comforted her once again, Chloe continued. “Now I’m ready to tell you what I’ve experienced. But you have to keep your hands on my bare feet. If you gently caress them, I won’t suffer too much, but I can feel your presence. And if I stop telling you, you’ll have to tickle me mercilessly for another minute.”
“Love, there's no need to…”
“Yes, Marina, trust me, I need to. I need to be naked and vulnerable. Take my feet and cuddle them, if you like. But be ready to unleash your nails on my soles. Or, if you prefer, make me have another orgasm. You decide what to do if I stop. Okay?”
“Okay,” the other woman gave up arguing. “If you feel ready, I’m listening.”
She wasn't ready, she never would be, but that tactile threat was essential to overcome the last obstacle, and Chloe began her story: “It started last summer. It was the afternoon of my last day of work. I took half a day off so I could get on vacation as quickly as possible.” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and continued: “They were already there. A group of men, at least three of them. They'd been waiting for me, I don't know how long. They tackled me to the floor as soon as I entered my room. I didn't even have time to scream. I was on the floor and couldn't move. Before I realized what was happening, one of them stuck a needle in my neck, and I lost consciousness.”
He paused again. Chloe, as she spoke, visualized everything that had happened in her mind, and she couldn't move her mouth anymore.
Marina didn't really want to torture her partner, so to break the deadlock, she gently drummed her fingers on the sole of the foot she was holding. "And when did you wake up?"
Chloe, feeling the fingertips tickling her soft sole, shook herself: “When I woke up… When I woke up, it was hell!”
...to be continued
I found this story a lot of years ago, at the dawn of internet: it was on a French site called "l'initiation", handled by Peheff, maybe the older among you can remind it. BTW, the story in this website were so envolving and elaborate I translate them in Italian (my mother language) modifiying them to make them more close to my taste.
In any case, I want to specify, despite the following story is re-elaborated by me, the original subject comes from l'initiation and (I suppose) Peheff, so I want to make clear I don't want to steal the credits for the excellent starting base. I don't know if he never had his stories translated in English, however this one is, once again, not the original, just a "reboot".
Keep in mind that it has been translated by the IA and quickly manually checked, so something wrong could happen. Let me know if you enjoyit, if it is understandable enough, and if you like want me to keep posting the other episodes.
I'll wait for yor feedback.
EDIT: according to the feedback provided by some of you, I've corrected (I hope) all the mistakes about he/she and him/her, so now the story should be fine.
THE FUGITIVE
Disregarding Chloe's pleading look, the guards dragged her recklessly to the examination table. She was forced to lie there, naked, and strapped down, her arms stretched out at ninety degrees to either side of her, her legs spread. Once the operation was over, they quickly retreated and let the doctors do their work. Advancing toward the immobilized young woman, they approached the trolleys holding their instruments. Immediately, without even being touched, the prisoner began to cry from the feeling of helplessness. She struggled against her bonds, trying to tear her gag with her teeth, realizing she was about to be tortured once again. But it was always the same ritual during the sessions: initially the interminable wait, which was already a torture in itself. Afterward, the guards would come to find her in her cell and carry her, bound, on a stretcher to the examination room. After that, she was immobilized again, this time on the torture table. And there, the medical staff took over: the tests could begin.
Aurelia, the chief physician who directed all the sessions, was already preparing her usual injection: a clear liquid whose name Chloe was unaware of. The woman inserted the needle into her arm with her usual dexterity, born of experience, and injected the first product. Desperate, Chloe was already considering its effects as the serum spread through her system: her head was spinning, and she felt confused and oppressed. Aurelia carefully checked the dilation of her pupils using a small light, then, once she confirmed that the drug was starting to work, she prepared the next injection. This time, it was the opaque liquid, whose terrifying properties the young woman was unaware of. Shortly after the injection, Chloe felt the first signs of forced sexual arousal: her nipples hardening, the heat slowly radiating from her womb, and above all, the increased sensitivity of her skin.
Again, Aurelia took a few moments to check if the product was taking full effect. Then, when she was certain, she turned to her colleagues and exclaimed, in the tone of someone who loves her job: "It's ready. Ladies, let the games begin!"
The three women in white blouses approached Chloe, who was in a state of total panic. The first of them, a cold-beautiful blonde named Tanja, tickled her armpits, using small, careful gestures that bespoke the specialized training she had received. Chloe tensed with her entire body and immediately burst into laughter into her gag. The blonde played with it, teasing rather than actually tickling, so as to be able to increase the intensity of the sensations later. However, she then began to descend, taking small steps, to her victim's ribs, torturing them with light pinches, eliciting sharp complaints from the poor girl. For her part, Chloe struggled frantically against the restraints, hoping to lower her arms, thus protecting her exposed, vulnerable chest. Obviously, it was futile, as she only tired herself out, further weakening her resistance, already weakened by the drugs.
Only a few minutes into the ordeal, the torture gained even more intensity when the other two doctors, who had remained inactive until now, watching their prisoner's violent contortions, sprang into action. Taking calligraphy brushes from the tool cart, they grasped Chloe's big toes, forced them to extend, and began tickling her feet, each on her own. From heel to toe, with perfectly controlled movements, they exploited the precision of their instruments with visible delight to send their victim to hell, while their colleague continued tickling her under the arms.
The young woman, who had already been unable to tolerate the first touches, went mad under the combined effects of all these sensations. Her field of vision narrowed to a minimum, all her senses tuned to contact, and overwhelmed by the force of sensations so devastating they were like a raging torrent sweeping everything in its path. She floated elsewhere, lost in an ocean of torture, clinging to her sanity like a piece of wreckage to keep from sinking completely. Her bare chest heaved irregularly, in time with her hysterical laughter and occasionally her demon-driven screams when a particularly sensitive spot was found. The women torturing her feet had attacked one of her weak spots: the middle of her soles. The screams then came out in fits and starts, unbearable despite the gag, but encouraging to the professionals present. But the worst was yet to come.
At a gesture from Aurelia, the torture stopped. Chloe watched her, breathing shallowly and panting, through a haze, as she circled the torture table. With a cruel smile, she picked up a vibrator from the trolley. Gently brandishing it on her fingertips and gently placing it on her open vulva, she said to the young woman in a falsely polite tone, "Should we get to the heart of the matter now?"
Chloe awoke screaming, covered in sweat. She had been on the run for nearly six months, but she continued to relive the worst moments of her captivity in her dreams, as if a part of her still existed in the hands of her torturers. Carried away by the violence of her nightmare, she jumped up and sat down on the mattress. Confused, she took her face in her hands and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Just as she was about to burst into sobs, she felt the caress of a female arm gently encircling her shoulders. That of her partner, Marina, who had been living with her for several weeks. Their relationship had allowed the young woman to gradually climb back up the ladder. Even though she lived in terror of being captured again, Marina had taught her, step by step, to trust again. First in herself, then in others. It had been a long journey, but with calm the young woman had managed to overcome every obstacle until today. Of course, Chloe hadn't told her her story, fearing she wouldn't believe it, but her companion knew that would come in time. In a motherly tone, she whispered, "Come on, darling, it's over... you're not alone anymore." She kissed her cheek, then continued, "You're strong now. We're both strong. They can't do anything to you anymore."
“They…” Chloe sobbed.
“Them what?”
“…They were all women.”
Marina bit her lip. Would she finally talk to her? “Go on.”
Chloe looked into her eyes, despite the dim light in the room. She gave her an awkward smile. "No, forget it, I don't really want to talk about it. Sorry, I'm not ready. Not yet."
Hiding her disappointment, Marina placed her lips on those of her beloved for a tender kiss. Her tongue lovingly caressed Chloe's, who immediately surrendered, slowly forgetting her nightmare. Embracing her, the young woman slid her hands under her companion's T-shirt and, with a gentle pressure, invited her to lie down. "Sleep, my love, there's no reason to have any more bad dreams."
The next morning, Marina woke before Chloe. She rose quietly and went to do her toilette, then got dressed. While putting on her clothes, she saw her companion wake up. As she blinked and delicately stood up, Marina waved at her, like a puppet, and greeted her with a "good morning." She added that she was going to prepare breakfast, and faced with the young woman's bland reaction, she grabbed a pillow and threw it, hitting her square in the face. Chloe took the impact without flinching, then grabbed the pillow with both hands and leapt from the bed to attack her friend, laughing. She delivered a series of blows that forced her to retreat, her arms protecting her head. Then, at the opportune moment, she grabbed Chloe's wrists and gave her a grip that knocked her to the floor. She then leaned on her with all his weight to prevent her from getting up, still holding her with his arms, and tried to hug her, but Chloe was shaking her head from side to side to prevent her. Marina then freed one arm and tickled her side by surprise. Chloe's reaction was extreme: she shrieked in terror and threw her little friend recklessly onto her side, with all her strength. Marina hit her head violently against the foot of the bed, so hard that she was momentarily stunned. When she regained full consciousness, she saw Chloe leaning on her, her expression contrite. And deep in her eyes, Marina saw that something was wrong. The young woman had reacted instinctively, like a cat locked in a corner, scratching and biting everything within reach. What seemed strange was that it wasn't the struggle that had caused this fit, but the tickling. How could this be?
Slowly, Marina, supported by Chloe's arm, rose. The young woman apologized pitifully and tried to caress her face, but her friend gently but firmly rejected her hand. It was no longer time to play, she had to know: “I've had enough, Chloe. I think I've been patient enough with you, perhaps too much. I understand that you don't want to tell me everything. You look like you've been through hell. But you can't ask me to help you the way I do, to watch over you every day, and at the same time refuse to trust me. I can't stand it anymore. You said you would, but until I know what's tormenting you, they'll remain empty words. So listen carefully: I'm going to the kitchen to make breakfast and I'll let you think about what I just told you. Come join me whenever you want, but if you do, you have to tell me everything. Because if you don't, I swear, Chloe, I'll leave without looking back. I can't stay with a girl who tells me she wants me and at the same time isn't capable of opening her heart to me. It's up to you.”
Marina turned and walked out, leaving Chloe devastated on the edge of the bed. She was sorry for having treated her so roughly, but she told herself there was no other solution. She was fed up with being unable to sleep at night because of her partner's nightmares, her strange reactions like her panic at hospitals, or even her paranoia whenever a suspicious vehicle parked at their house. Chloe had refused to talk about it to anyone, including psychologists, despite Marina's insistence. She seemed to fear someone would find her and take her away, to make her suffer God knew what. Marina had a small idea: she had recognized the symptoms of torture, but had never been able to get Chloe to tell her exactly what it was. Until last night: she now knew she was afraid of a group of women. But that didn't help her much. Shaking her head as if to chase away these thoughts, she made breakfast, as she had said, hoping Chloe would make a good decision. She didn't really want to carry out her threat, but she had been sincere: she couldn't continue like this.
It wasn't long before Chloe appeared at the door, barely a few minutes later. She advanced into the kitchen, her steps hesitant but her gaze resolute. Marina immediately saw that she had been crying, but decided to let her have breakfast. It was clear that the girl was fighting an internal war.
Her companion drank from the cup, dipping some biscuits, her eyes shining and her chin trembling, without saying a word. Then, finally, she looked up at her.
“So?” Marina asked, looking her straight in the eye, trying not to look too tense. “What have you decided?”
Chloe's gaze was unreadable. She seemed to have genuine trust, for the first time. But also full of terror.
“Okay, Marina. I don't want to lose you. But you have to promise me that whatever I tell you, not only won't you repeat it, but you'll believe me at my word. Even if what I say seems incredible to you. Do you promise?”
Marina stepped forward and took her friend in her arms reassuringly. “Of course, little star. Whatever you’ve been through, I’ve seen how it’s affected you. You don’t have to worry, you know you can trust me.”
Chloe replied with a smile. “There's one more condition, which will make you understand how much I trust you, and without which I know I'd never be able to fully unburden myself enough to talk to you.”
"Tell me."
“You must also do what I'm about to ask without arguing. I know it will seem strange to you, and that you'll think you're about to hurt me. You will, indeed, but not this much. And you must ignore my pleas to stop.”
“But what are you saying?” Marina asked her, worried.
“I know, I wouldn't be able to speak if it weren't for the threat of unbearable torture.”
“Torture? What are you talking about?”
“That's right, Marina. Take it or leave it. Because I want to trust you, but I know that without a violent incentive I could never leave.”
Her companion weighed her words. What on earth did her young friend mean? She certainly didn't want to torture her; she'd surely been through enough already to make the situation worse, but Chloe was staring at her. "Fine. I'll do what you say without arguing. What should I do?"
Chloe took two deep breaths, then spoke: “Now let’s go over there and you will have to tie me to the bed, my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed.”
Marina was very perplexed, but decided to indulge her friend.
The two returned to the bedroom, and Chloe lay down in the center of the large bed while Marina took some soft white ropes that had originally been used to tie the curtains. As she pinned her friend down, she noticed her teary eyes and her instinctive movements as she gradually realized she was a prisoner.
He tightened all the strings and asked: “And now?”
Chloe took a dozen deep breaths this time. “Now take a pair of scissors and cut off all my clothes. Take off my socks, too. I have to be completely naked. And leave the light on. And don't stop, even if I cry!”
Marina flinched at that request. Chloe had never shown herself completely naked to her, and had always insisted the lights be turned off when they made love. Above all, she had never removed her socks. She had never let her see her bare feet. "But..."
“Just do it!” she replied, almost shouting. “Or I won’t have the courage to ask you again.”
“Okay, don't worry,” she said, giving her a peck of encouragement. Then she realized that as she removed her socks, revealing her meticulously manicured feet, her friend was trembling. And when she removed her bra and panties, Chloe was crying profusely and straining at the ropes. “Okay, that's enough, there's no need to continue, I'm going to release you now…”
“No!” she sobbed. “Leave me alone! I’ll get over it now…”
Marina complied, sitting next to her and stroking her face. The therapy seemed to work, and five minutes later, after wiping away all her tears and helping her blow her nose, Chloe was ready to continue.
“Good, I’m calm now,” she said finally, though her unsteady voice indicated that this wasn’t entirely true. “Take the vibrator and make me orgasm.”
Marina's eyes widened, and she couldn't believe her ears. Orgasms were another huge taboo for her friend. It had taken a long time before she'd let her touch her there, but even when it happened, she'd never wanted to go any further. She could feel her getting wet, very wet, but when her breathing began to labor, she'd make her remove her hands.
“Yes Marina, now you have to touch me and masturbate me, and even when I change my mind later and beg you to stop, you have to make me cum.”
"But…"
“No buts. You promised me. Just do it.”
It took a little less than a quarter of an hour to achieve the result, but getting there was excruciating. Chloe, at the first signs of intense arousal, had begun to feel fearful, and predictably, she had asked her partner to stop. Chloe, faithful to her requests, however, had not stopped. Reluctantly, because her friend was truly desperate, but if Chloe had asked for it herself, she would have complied. A sort of Ulysses with the Sirens, only this time the Sirens were internal contractions of a pleasure denied for too long, and after Chloe had stopped moaning with pleasure, she was crying again, this time with happiness.
Again, Marina gave her time to recover, dried her eyes and nose, and then listened to the new request.
“Now you're going to have to tickle me. My armpits, my sides, but especially the soles of my feet. And this time too, ignore my pleas. You have exactly one minute to make me laugh and scream. Don't ever stop.”
And so it was, although it took Chloe only a few seconds to beg her to stop, and then spent the rest of the time writhing and laughing her head off.
Once the storm had passed, and Marina had comforted her once again, Chloe continued. “Now I’m ready to tell you what I’ve experienced. But you have to keep your hands on my bare feet. If you gently caress them, I won’t suffer too much, but I can feel your presence. And if I stop telling you, you’ll have to tickle me mercilessly for another minute.”
“Love, there's no need to…”
“Yes, Marina, trust me, I need to. I need to be naked and vulnerable. Take my feet and cuddle them, if you like. But be ready to unleash your nails on my soles. Or, if you prefer, make me have another orgasm. You decide what to do if I stop. Okay?”
“Okay,” the other woman gave up arguing. “If you feel ready, I’m listening.”
She wasn't ready, she never would be, but that tactile threat was essential to overcome the last obstacle, and Chloe began her story: “It started last summer. It was the afternoon of my last day of work. I took half a day off so I could get on vacation as quickly as possible.” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and continued: “They were already there. A group of men, at least three of them. They'd been waiting for me, I don't know how long. They tackled me to the floor as soon as I entered my room. I didn't even have time to scream. I was on the floor and couldn't move. Before I realized what was happening, one of them stuck a needle in my neck, and I lost consciousness.”
He paused again. Chloe, as she spoke, visualized everything that had happened in her mind, and she couldn't move her mouth anymore.
Marina didn't really want to torture her partner, so to break the deadlock, she gently drummed her fingers on the sole of the foot she was holding. "And when did you wake up?"
Chloe, feeling the fingertips tickling her soft sole, shook herself: “When I woke up… When I woke up, it was hell!”
...to be continued
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