Dave2112
Level of Cherry Feather
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2001
- Messages
- 10,294
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(Winner: 2001 Golden Feather Award - Best Fiction Story)
Harley sat in his office, going over his papers for the month. Production up. Prices up. Profit up.
Morale down, but that was no big surprise.
Harley’s empire had grown out of a small service he provided back in his street-gang days. Wanted someone disposed of? Call Harley. Had a witness you needed to “disappear”? Harley’s your guy.
This service had grown into a hefty profit-margin, and he’d branched out. Drug trafficking, contracts, “insurance”…all of it in Crystal City was run either by him or one of his branches.
Killing he’d gotten out of…personally anyway. The order still came down from him, but his hands were clean these days. Nope. No more blood under these fingernails.
Kidnapping, however, had become a booming business.
Got a girlfriend who can’t keep her legs together and you want to make a tidy profit? Call Harley. Got a step-daughter who treats you like shit? Harley’s your guy.
Harley had the money to pay for these women, so it was no big loss. Plus, they paid for themselves in labor and…entertainment. Nobody ever knew where the women went, most didn’t want to know. They just “disappeared”. Right into Harley’s Stable.
He was a big man, and a powerful one. Tattoos up his arms, rings around his eyebrows. Always in leather. And he was quite the Dominant. Harley truly believed that women belonged to him. Well, the ones he’d “bought” anyway. They were property, possessions. They worked in his labs. They worked in his fields. They entertained his guests. And they didn’t screw up. Not twice, anyway.
All except one.
Rikki. Out of all the tender little morsels he’d tasted, it figured the one that most reminded him of himself would be the one to cause trouble. Harley’s mansion was full of rooms dedicated to the punishment of his “pets” as he called them. He checked them everyday on his way to his office. He knew exactly what was going on right now, as a matter of fact.
In one room, a girl accused of stealing from him was being stretched on a wooden rack.
In another, a new acquisition, a mouthy one at that, was hogtied. Electrical probes taped to her nipples and pussy were keeping her quite occupied and teaching her the respect Harley demanded.
In yet another, a woman was suspended by her ankles, one of Harley’s handmaidens striking her bared ass with a horsehair whip.
But Rikki was headed to her third punishment in two weeks, and possibly out the door. He’d have to call one of his associates to “remove” her if he couldn’t get her under control. He remembered getting that one. It was her father of all people who came to him, through his contacts, of course. The man was a balding little twit, coke-bottle glasses, mousy face…the kind of guy you could blow over rather than wasting a good punch.
And he’d paid Harley. That was a change.
The daughter in question was, of course Nikki. She was the antithesis of her parents, total Gothic type with short black hair streaked with blue. Heavy black eyeshadow, pierced everywhere. Of course, all that was removed when she became a tenant of Harley’s, and he thought her actually quite pretty when she was tamed a bit.
The parents couldn’t do it, and the man almost cried when he made the decision. He was assured that she wouldn’t be hurt, only “relocated” to place more fitting for her. The parents of the girl were not without worth, giving extra for Harley’s promise that she wouldn’t be killed or raped.
Looking back now, he was starting to think that it would have been better to stick with paying them and done what ever the fuck he wanted with her. But his word was his bond. Honor among thieves. If she didn’t work out, he’d have to send her to on of his other “hotels” and put the problem in the lap of a friend.
He could see why even her parents wanted her out of their lives. She said “fuck” like teen-age girls say “like”. She had gone as far as to actually hit one of Harley’s personal women, making her cry and almost making Harley break his vow and shoot her on the spot.
But he had one more idea.
She’d been whipped. Cringed and swore like a longshoreman without ever pledging obedience. She’d been suspended. Laughed. She’d been nipple-clipped and weighted. Probably had an orgasm, judging by the report he got on that session.
He had her working in one of his labs with Mr. Jim. He was one of the stranger and more unpredictable members on his close personal staff. The man was known only as Mr. Jim, so Harley wasn’t even sure if the guy actually had any scientific training. But he was a gifted chemist, by book or by brain.
Need something to fool the police dogs’ noses? Call Jim. Need an explosive that can fit in a wallet? Jim’s your guy.
He was currently working on a substance for shipping large quantities of cocaine while looking innocent and being smell and scan-proof. It was some sort of plastic gel that the drugs would be encased in was all Harley knew at this point. Which gave him an idea.
He pushed the button on his intercom.
“Maxine? Please come in here for a moment.” He said into the black box.
“At once, Sir.” she replied.
Ten seconds later she was before him in his office. She was his favorite and the closest he would come to a wife. She wasn’t one of his purchases, but a woman he’d been with through this whole thing. She was completely submissive to him and his power, and she was in charge of the girls. It was her department. The woman stood before him, tall, brunette and lovely. The collar around her neck was joined only by a leather G-string and small studded bra as clothing.
“Nikki. What’s she done now?” he asked, referring to the Post-It on his desk.
“It seems that she seduced the kind Mr. Jim into opening his medicine cabinet. We found her with about an ounce of coke in her room. High as a kite. She told me….”
“Yes? It’s ok, love..” he coaxed her, knowing her disdain of swearing in front of him.
“She told me to go fuck myself.”
“OK, that it!” he yelled, slamming a mighty fist onto the koa-wood desktop.
“Shall I bring her to one of the playrooms for your personal discipline, Sir?” Maxine asked.
“Yes! Bring her to the….Wait!….Bring her to me….” his eyes closed to slits.
“Shall I inform her that she is to be punished at the hands of the Lord of the Manor?” Maxine again asked.
“No,” Said Harley, thinking this through, “Intimate to her that I want to see her. You don’t know why but you think it has something to do with me “liking her spunk” or some crap like that. I don’t want her to even think she’s in trouble. Let her find out after she’s in no position to stop it.”
“And the punishment will be….? Pardon me, but nothing’s worked so far.”
“Leave that to me. And get Mr. Jim on the horn, I want it piped into my office. Bring dear Nikki in one half-hour and have her presentable.”
“Yes, Master…” Maxine said, backing out the door. God, he loved that woman.
****************************************************************************
Harley had spoken to his faithful chemist for almost the full half-hour as Nikki’s fate was sealed. He would not have to bribe the good man with the drugs that he craved (and were quite possibly adding to his somewhat disturbed nature). He knew a few things about Dear Mr. Jim that few others did, and this would be a time where his dementia might be just the thing he was looking for. Mr. Jim was setting things up as Harley spoke to the girl brought before him.
She was presentable, Maxine had done her job well, as usual. The short black hair had grown a bit and was free of the blue streaks. Her face was lovely without the KISS make-up. She was dressed in a lather halter tied around her back and a pair of black shorts. Her shoes were black as well, Harley allowing her to wear them to further throw her off guard.
“So…whatcha want?” she curtly said, arms folded and swaying back and forth.
Harley bit his lip to keep from striking the insolent brat, but stayed his anger. If there was one thing he was good at (and there were many, as he would tell you) it was making people believe what HE wanted them to believe. It was the tool that had been most responsible for getting him where he was. His own Jedi Mind Trick.
“Please, my dear, have a seat.” he extended his hand toward a handsome chair across from his desk. She slowly sat in it, already a little shocked at the fact that Mr. Biker Guy wasn’t yelling his head off at her yet.
“It seems you’ve been up to quite a bit of mischief, young lady…” he said with a mock-kindly face.
“Guess so…” she replied, looking at her feet.
“Now look at me, young lady…I’ve something to share with you.”
“Yeah? Whassat?”
Oh, this was going to be pure pleasure, he thought, eyeing the spot on her neck that would fit his squeezing hands quite nicely thankyouverymuch.
“There are some….acquisitions…that simply never come under control. Call it a “weeding-out” process if you will. You must know that the women who are part of my council come from somewhere, don’t you? Smart girl like you probably figured that out already, eh…” he said, pushing a shot of tequila to her.
She took the shot and downed it. He poured her another.
“You mean….us?” she asked him.
“Yes, you. Most of the girls are so terrified when they get here that they agree to anything. One punishment session on the ones that do act up, and nine times out of ten, you’ve got an obedient worker on your hands. Then there’s always that tenth. The one who’s too tough, the one who’s got personality, the one whose the guts to stand up. One like yourself, for example….”
“So, you’re not going to try to beat the shit outta me again?” she asked, downing another shot.
“No, no, no. No need anymore. I want to start you at the beginning and make you a house girl, ok? You still will have things to do, but they won’t be as much, and you’ll have a small group of girls that will be under your direct supervision. You will of course still answer to Jill, who answers to Maxine, who answers to me, but…the girls under your care will need some discipline from time to time. And we get so busy around here this time of year….”
His ruse was working on the young girl. He could see how she was thinking of having someone under her control. He could see her thinking how easy it would be, that she’d be right by his side before he knew it.
Yeah. Ok.
After chuckling to himself he told Nikki her first “assignment”.
“I want you to continue working with Mr. Jim, and please leave the little fellow alone, he’s…troubled. All of your other duties are excused. As a matter of fact, I’m going to personally escort you to the lab. You’re going to help with a very special test, it a new thing for making body molds. I’m thinking of branching into sex-toys, whattya think, kid?” he winked.
“Sounds ok.” she replied. But it was more than ok with her. If he wanted to use her body as the mold for a sex-doll, sure. The thought of thousands of men screwing her in effigy brought a smile to her lips.
“Well, then,” Harley took her hand, “welcome to Management.”
*************************************************************
Mr. Jim had prepared his “lab” for his upcoming assignment. He knew that he had to properly test the shipping gel, and to boot, he was getting a chance to help with the breaking of one of the girls. He was left out of this ritual more than he’d liked, but every once in a while, he was called on. He had a specific way of “dealing” with the miscreants that Harley sent him.
The table was prepared, and the ruse continued as Harley and Maxine led the clueless Nikki down to the lab.
She was told to strip down to her thong, and for once, she complied. Harley looked her over. Mr. Jim looked her over. Hell, even Maxine looked her over. Under all that make-up and funeral clothing was a girl with a rather nice body. Firm if small tits, slim waist, nice hips. Longer legs than they thought at first.
“I-If you’ll just get ready for the…uhhh….mold! Yeah, the mold…that’s it.”
Harley shot his chemist a stern look. Down boy!
Mr. Jim got a hold of himself and continued.
“If you’ll just climb up there and make yourself comfortable. The base is contoured in the way you need to recline.”
Nikki got on the table an into….what? She’d never imagined anything like this before. It was like a long box without a lid. There was a contoured floor and at the end there were two three-quarter circle holes. Looking at the shape of the resting area, she judged that her feet were going to be hanging out of the box at these holes. She placed her ankles into the receptacles to start her recline, and laid back. The floor contoured to her body as she reclined, and she found herself arched a bit, but comfortable. Her butt was in a shaped seat of sorts, and flowing her body backward, she found that the support under the small of her back caused the middle of her body from ribs to hips to arch. Her head was supported in a slight tip backward and her arms were over her head, resting in cupped supports.
“Now,” Mr. Jim went on, holding a hose in his hand, “we are going to fill up the “tub” here with a new substance we’re working on. For sex-dolls! Yeah…s-sex dolls. It’s going to be kind of thick and gooey, but warm and cozy. Yes…cozy cozy cozy….”
Another warning look from Harley.
“Now, you’ll need to wear earplugs to keep this from getting in your ears. Also, close your eyes, as the tip of the support is going to allow the fluid to flow over them and make a cast of their shape. Your mouth and nose will remain clear, my dear. Also, I’m going to have to apply these rubber rings around your ankles so the fluid doesn’t leak out of the foot holes during the casting. They’re a little cool, so I thought I’d warn you.”
“No sweat,” Nikki replied, a little nervous but looking forward in a way to being covered in something thick and warm.
Maxine placed the rubber earplugs in Nikki’s ears, and Mr. Jim placed the rubber loops over her feet and onto her ankles. Pushing down, the rubber fit tightly into the cut holes.
“Now my dear, relax and breath.”
She couldn’t hear him all that sharply, but she could make out the words. He spoke up.
“Don’t move for thirty seconds! It’s very important!”
“OK,” she said with the smallest of mouth movements.
Mr. Jim turned on the pump and a reddish-orange viscous fluid discharged into the tub and over the body of the girl. It filled until it was along the top edge of the tub. Nikki was submerged in her position. She felt a little cool on her belly, but didn’t give it a thought as the warmth of the fluid was making her feel quite content. She merely assumed that the tub was not full yet.
But it was. Quite full.
While Nikki was in her reverie, Harley gave the signal to Mr. Jim to test his substance. The chemist dropped a black tablet into the fluid.
“And that’s all you need?” asked Harley to his grinning underling.
“Oh, yes, yes! It’s all a chemical reaction on a molecular level….watch…”
The reddish-orange fluid was taking on a redder tone and becoming a tad milky. Worried for a moment that it was becoming hot, Harley stepped to the side of the table and went to place his finger in the fluid. He found it only warm…
…But quite solid.
“Mr. Jim?” Harley eyed the man.
“Y-Yes, Sir?”
“You, my friend….are a twisted little FUCKING GENIUS!!” he roared, patting his friend on the shoulder, “I’ll leave you two alone…remember…..broken.”
“Not a problem, Sir…..”
As his bosses left, he looked at what his time and effort had wrought. The girl was beyond helpless. She was encased in the hardened liquid, now a rock-like plastic. Of her titled-back head, only her mouth nose and lower jaw were visible. Her feet stuck out of the bottom of the tub, the rubber rings holding back the flow of the liquid until it became hard. And her body…
Her body was arched and the liquid had filled in a perfect position. Her biceps disappeared into the plastic casing, but her body from armpits to hips was above the surface. Well, half above, anyway. Her butt was under, the fluid coming to just at her pubic bone, the line of the leather G-String one millimeter under. The plastic ran about a quarter way up her ribcage, leaving most of it heaved upward. Her belly was tight as a drum, and enough of it was still above to expose most of her waist.
And she was also blind and deaf. That was how they’d arranged it. Harley didn’t want her to know she was getting disciplined. He wanted her to merely endure it and be told that any further disobedience would me met with twice the same.
And what better guy than Mr. Jim. That was the thing about him that made him so dear to Harley when his other torments failed.
Needed a slave tickled into submission? Call Jim. Want a quivering wreck where once a person stood? Jim’s your guy.
Nikki was panicking from the moment the gel had hardened. At first she thought that it was part of the process, but after about two minutes, she really started to get scared.
“HEY!!!! What’s going ON?!?!?!? I Can’t hear anything!!!!! You guys there??!?! Come on lemme out!!!! What are you Doo-oo-oooing?”
“Oh, just getting ready to tickle that helpless young body of yours…” Mr. Jim said to no one, knowing full well that she couldn’t hear him.
He approached the spot where her feet poked out of the base. Looking over the tiny toes wiggling in the air, and the smooth pinkish arches, Mr. Jim pulled two instruments off his work tray. Two electric toothbrushes. Unheard by Nikki, they whirred on. Mr. Jim looked like a kid torching an ant with a magnifying glass as he took the sadistic instruments to the soles of the very unprepared captive. Touching them lightly to the instep, Nikki let loose with a howl.
“HHHEEYYYYNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!AAHAHAHEHEHHEHEEEGOOAAAWWWDDD!!….SHITSHITSHIT…HAHAHEHHE…W-WHATTHEHELL…HHAHAHEHHEE..AREYOUDDOOINNNG?!?!?!?!?!…HHEEHAAIIGGHHHH!!!!”
Nikki could not so much as wiggle a fingertip in her defense. She had nowhere to pull her legs, encased in their polymer tomb. She was unaware of anything but the sound of her screams in her ears and the tickling of her feet. She felt the vibrations stop after whatever it was passed over both of her poor feet. Between her toes drove her mad as she felt fingers pulling them back and applying the cruel device to the tender flesh. The next thing she felt wasn’t much better….
…Mr. Jim was tying her toes back to two small rings placed in the base of the tub. Nikki’s soles were stretched and immobile. That’s when he brought the feathers close to her feet. He knew that he didn’t have to taunt her, but it pleased him to know that they were getting closer and closer as she breathed heavily in her encasement, wondering what was coming next, and when.
“Oh, my girl, this is going to be sooooo baaaadddd….” he grinned. The feathers touched the ticklish soles and ran up and down the length of the tied feet.
“OOHHGGOOOOODNOOOOOOOOO!!!!OOOHHHAHAHEHEHE….AIIIIGGGHHHHH…NOOOOOPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEGODOHGOD….AAHAHAHEHHEEHHAAIIGGHH!!”
Mr. Jim was singing to himself like a child. A very twisted little child.
“Tickle feet…tickle feet……he he he…does that tickle little girl…awwwww….kootchi kootchi …watch ‘em wiggle….hahahahahahaaaaaa….”
Mr. Jim was gone. He was the one for this job, and he intended to do it well.
The feathers were replaced by fingers as Jim tortured the girl with solid fifteen minutes of tickling on her tormented soles. Nikki had stopped screaming and was now gasping.
Inside her prison, Nikki was losing it rapidly. She was fuming that she’d been tricked like this, but her major cause of alarm was that they’d apparently decided to try tickling her into obedience. And if they kept it up, it might just work. Nikki could take almost anything.
Almost.
She’s split a guy’s lip for tickling her once. She’d decked a classmate for the same offense. She hated it. It held no pleasure or childish glee for her. There were no thoughts of eroticism associated with tickling for her. It was almost painful, but not quite. It was, plain and simple…torture.
Mr. Jim had ceased his foot torment and moved on to his next target, listening with glee to the pleas issuing from the trapped female.
“P-Please let me out of th-this….no more…(pant)…no more…..I’ll be g-good….I…P-Promise….Oh GOD PLEASE LEMME OUT!!!!!!!!”
Harley had told him two hours, and he was a man of his word.
He rested his hand on her tight belly. Even the touch brought a fresh bout of begging from Nikki.
“OH GOD NO!!!!!! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME THERE!!!….PPLLEEEAASSSEEEE!!!”
Mr. Jim ran a single finger up each side of her stretched belly. They were placed halfway between the center and the side. Pressing in, he cherished the feel of the muscle under the skin, its warmth, its softness. Getting the right amount of pressure, he dragged these fingers up then down the length of her belly in a repeating pattern of long slow strokes.
“HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA…HHEEEHAAAAAAAA…ST-STOOOOOPPP!!!!!”
On his last pass up her body, he went farther, bringing his fingers in contact with her ribcage and placed his now-clawed hands over the protruding bones.
“This…is gonna……tiiiccckkklleeeee….” Mr. Jim was singing again to himself.
He dig into the defenseless ribcage with no mercy. Nikki began screaming one long note. He kneaded the skin against the bone, he wriggled a stiff finger between each rib, counting them one by one.
Several times.
Each stroke of Nikki’s ribs brought another bout of hysterical twisted laughter or another blood-curdling scream.
Allowing his captive to catch her breath, he ogled her and thanked God for his job.
“Pleasenomorenomore……(gasp, gasp)…I Can’t…t-take….(pant)…anymoooreeee…”
But Jim was not finished.
Without a word and nary a minute for Nikki to regain some semblance of sanity, he attacked her smooth armpits. He wriggled all of his fingers over the tight ticklish skin as Nikki again screamed, this time with a touch of hoarseness. Slowing down, he trailed his fingers over the sensitive mounds where she shaved, tickling them lightly, then building in pressure and speed.
“OHMYFUCKINGGOOOAAAAWWWWDDDDD!!!!!!NONONONPLEASEPLEASEITTICKLESITTICKLES!!!!……HHHAHAHAHHHEEHEHEHEHEHEHHEEEEEEEEAAAIIIGGHHH!!!!!”
Jim stopped for a quick second, long enough to grab his toothbrushes and rake then over her helpless armpits.
“AAAIIIGGHHH!!!!!…ohGGAAAWWWDDDPLLEEAASSEEE??!?!?!?!!!!!NOOOOAIIGGH!!”
Jim Continued down her body with the evil devices, tickling over each rib on the way, back up under her arms, back over the ribs…then finally trailed it down to a spot over her navel. Nikki was losing her voice, her screams becoming ragged and broken. Blind, deaf and helplessly entombed in hard plastic, she was gripping the remains of her sanity.
Mr. Jim abandoned his tools and used his hands for the rest of this part of the session. Digging his fingers deep into Nikki’s sides, he tickled her on every spot he found still elicited a scream of sorts. All over her belly and sides he searched for places he could cruelly tickle, hard and fast. He showed no mercy as he tickled the extended belly of the poor girl, using both hands like claws in the end to squeeze the upper surface of her waist on both sides, having found her most excruciatingly ticklish spot and giving no quarter.
Nikki was beyond sound. Her gasping breath and hitching noises were telling Mr. Jim that she was nearing the end of consciousness. After a final flurry of tickling up and down her naked body, tickling even her tits this time, he relented.
After all….she needed her rest for the second hour of the session….right?
*************************************************************************
Harley pressed the button on his intercom.
“Maxine, send Nikki in with my lunch, please dear?” he said as he was going over his papers of last night’s huge sale.
“Yes, Love.” she replied.
The girl that came into his office was not even remotely recognizable as the girl that was dragged, bound and gagged yet still struggling, into his Mansion. The last few weeks had seen to that.
She entered the room nude, on hands and knees, with a thick collar around her neck. A tray of food was balanced on her back. Crawling toward her new and accepted Master, she stopped obediently at his side.
Removing the tray, he reached under her chin and lifted her face.
“You have come such a long way, Nikki.”
“Thank you Sir,” she replied, her eyes down.
“Now, go see what Maxine has for you to do. And remember….any back talk and…..”
He ran a finger down her side.
“NO! I’ll be good I SWEAR, SIR!” she pleaded.
As she left the room backward, Harley answered his pager. Picking up the phone, he recognized the voice of his connection in the Central District.
“What’s that?….A new girl?……Boyfriend wants rid of her?…….Uh, huh…..yep…..A handful, huh?……Yeah, that’s a good price….No, we can take care of that….no sweat….ok, bring her in. Later.”
Harley hit the button on his intercom again.
“Mr. Jim?….we’re going to need more of your juice……”
Harley sat in his office, going over his papers for the month. Production up. Prices up. Profit up.
Morale down, but that was no big surprise.
Harley’s empire had grown out of a small service he provided back in his street-gang days. Wanted someone disposed of? Call Harley. Had a witness you needed to “disappear”? Harley’s your guy.
This service had grown into a hefty profit-margin, and he’d branched out. Drug trafficking, contracts, “insurance”…all of it in Crystal City was run either by him or one of his branches.
Killing he’d gotten out of…personally anyway. The order still came down from him, but his hands were clean these days. Nope. No more blood under these fingernails.
Kidnapping, however, had become a booming business.
Got a girlfriend who can’t keep her legs together and you want to make a tidy profit? Call Harley. Got a step-daughter who treats you like shit? Harley’s your guy.
Harley had the money to pay for these women, so it was no big loss. Plus, they paid for themselves in labor and…entertainment. Nobody ever knew where the women went, most didn’t want to know. They just “disappeared”. Right into Harley’s Stable.
He was a big man, and a powerful one. Tattoos up his arms, rings around his eyebrows. Always in leather. And he was quite the Dominant. Harley truly believed that women belonged to him. Well, the ones he’d “bought” anyway. They were property, possessions. They worked in his labs. They worked in his fields. They entertained his guests. And they didn’t screw up. Not twice, anyway.
All except one.
Rikki. Out of all the tender little morsels he’d tasted, it figured the one that most reminded him of himself would be the one to cause trouble. Harley’s mansion was full of rooms dedicated to the punishment of his “pets” as he called them. He checked them everyday on his way to his office. He knew exactly what was going on right now, as a matter of fact.
In one room, a girl accused of stealing from him was being stretched on a wooden rack.
In another, a new acquisition, a mouthy one at that, was hogtied. Electrical probes taped to her nipples and pussy were keeping her quite occupied and teaching her the respect Harley demanded.
In yet another, a woman was suspended by her ankles, one of Harley’s handmaidens striking her bared ass with a horsehair whip.
But Rikki was headed to her third punishment in two weeks, and possibly out the door. He’d have to call one of his associates to “remove” her if he couldn’t get her under control. He remembered getting that one. It was her father of all people who came to him, through his contacts, of course. The man was a balding little twit, coke-bottle glasses, mousy face…the kind of guy you could blow over rather than wasting a good punch.
And he’d paid Harley. That was a change.
The daughter in question was, of course Nikki. She was the antithesis of her parents, total Gothic type with short black hair streaked with blue. Heavy black eyeshadow, pierced everywhere. Of course, all that was removed when she became a tenant of Harley’s, and he thought her actually quite pretty when she was tamed a bit.
The parents couldn’t do it, and the man almost cried when he made the decision. He was assured that she wouldn’t be hurt, only “relocated” to place more fitting for her. The parents of the girl were not without worth, giving extra for Harley’s promise that she wouldn’t be killed or raped.
Looking back now, he was starting to think that it would have been better to stick with paying them and done what ever the fuck he wanted with her. But his word was his bond. Honor among thieves. If she didn’t work out, he’d have to send her to on of his other “hotels” and put the problem in the lap of a friend.
He could see why even her parents wanted her out of their lives. She said “fuck” like teen-age girls say “like”. She had gone as far as to actually hit one of Harley’s personal women, making her cry and almost making Harley break his vow and shoot her on the spot.
But he had one more idea.
She’d been whipped. Cringed and swore like a longshoreman without ever pledging obedience. She’d been suspended. Laughed. She’d been nipple-clipped and weighted. Probably had an orgasm, judging by the report he got on that session.
He had her working in one of his labs with Mr. Jim. He was one of the stranger and more unpredictable members on his close personal staff. The man was known only as Mr. Jim, so Harley wasn’t even sure if the guy actually had any scientific training. But he was a gifted chemist, by book or by brain.
Need something to fool the police dogs’ noses? Call Jim. Need an explosive that can fit in a wallet? Jim’s your guy.
He was currently working on a substance for shipping large quantities of cocaine while looking innocent and being smell and scan-proof. It was some sort of plastic gel that the drugs would be encased in was all Harley knew at this point. Which gave him an idea.
He pushed the button on his intercom.
“Maxine? Please come in here for a moment.” He said into the black box.
“At once, Sir.” she replied.
Ten seconds later she was before him in his office. She was his favorite and the closest he would come to a wife. She wasn’t one of his purchases, but a woman he’d been with through this whole thing. She was completely submissive to him and his power, and she was in charge of the girls. It was her department. The woman stood before him, tall, brunette and lovely. The collar around her neck was joined only by a leather G-string and small studded bra as clothing.
“Nikki. What’s she done now?” he asked, referring to the Post-It on his desk.
“It seems that she seduced the kind Mr. Jim into opening his medicine cabinet. We found her with about an ounce of coke in her room. High as a kite. She told me….”
“Yes? It’s ok, love..” he coaxed her, knowing her disdain of swearing in front of him.
“She told me to go fuck myself.”
“OK, that it!” he yelled, slamming a mighty fist onto the koa-wood desktop.
“Shall I bring her to one of the playrooms for your personal discipline, Sir?” Maxine asked.
“Yes! Bring her to the….Wait!….Bring her to me….” his eyes closed to slits.
“Shall I inform her that she is to be punished at the hands of the Lord of the Manor?” Maxine again asked.
“No,” Said Harley, thinking this through, “Intimate to her that I want to see her. You don’t know why but you think it has something to do with me “liking her spunk” or some crap like that. I don’t want her to even think she’s in trouble. Let her find out after she’s in no position to stop it.”
“And the punishment will be….? Pardon me, but nothing’s worked so far.”
“Leave that to me. And get Mr. Jim on the horn, I want it piped into my office. Bring dear Nikki in one half-hour and have her presentable.”
“Yes, Master…” Maxine said, backing out the door. God, he loved that woman.
****************************************************************************
Harley had spoken to his faithful chemist for almost the full half-hour as Nikki’s fate was sealed. He would not have to bribe the good man with the drugs that he craved (and were quite possibly adding to his somewhat disturbed nature). He knew a few things about Dear Mr. Jim that few others did, and this would be a time where his dementia might be just the thing he was looking for. Mr. Jim was setting things up as Harley spoke to the girl brought before him.
She was presentable, Maxine had done her job well, as usual. The short black hair had grown a bit and was free of the blue streaks. Her face was lovely without the KISS make-up. She was dressed in a lather halter tied around her back and a pair of black shorts. Her shoes were black as well, Harley allowing her to wear them to further throw her off guard.
“So…whatcha want?” she curtly said, arms folded and swaying back and forth.
Harley bit his lip to keep from striking the insolent brat, but stayed his anger. If there was one thing he was good at (and there were many, as he would tell you) it was making people believe what HE wanted them to believe. It was the tool that had been most responsible for getting him where he was. His own Jedi Mind Trick.
“Please, my dear, have a seat.” he extended his hand toward a handsome chair across from his desk. She slowly sat in it, already a little shocked at the fact that Mr. Biker Guy wasn’t yelling his head off at her yet.
“It seems you’ve been up to quite a bit of mischief, young lady…” he said with a mock-kindly face.
“Guess so…” she replied, looking at her feet.
“Now look at me, young lady…I’ve something to share with you.”
“Yeah? Whassat?”
Oh, this was going to be pure pleasure, he thought, eyeing the spot on her neck that would fit his squeezing hands quite nicely thankyouverymuch.
“There are some….acquisitions…that simply never come under control. Call it a “weeding-out” process if you will. You must know that the women who are part of my council come from somewhere, don’t you? Smart girl like you probably figured that out already, eh…” he said, pushing a shot of tequila to her.
She took the shot and downed it. He poured her another.
“You mean….us?” she asked him.
“Yes, you. Most of the girls are so terrified when they get here that they agree to anything. One punishment session on the ones that do act up, and nine times out of ten, you’ve got an obedient worker on your hands. Then there’s always that tenth. The one who’s too tough, the one who’s got personality, the one whose the guts to stand up. One like yourself, for example….”
“So, you’re not going to try to beat the shit outta me again?” she asked, downing another shot.
“No, no, no. No need anymore. I want to start you at the beginning and make you a house girl, ok? You still will have things to do, but they won’t be as much, and you’ll have a small group of girls that will be under your direct supervision. You will of course still answer to Jill, who answers to Maxine, who answers to me, but…the girls under your care will need some discipline from time to time. And we get so busy around here this time of year….”
His ruse was working on the young girl. He could see how she was thinking of having someone under her control. He could see her thinking how easy it would be, that she’d be right by his side before he knew it.
Yeah. Ok.
After chuckling to himself he told Nikki her first “assignment”.
“I want you to continue working with Mr. Jim, and please leave the little fellow alone, he’s…troubled. All of your other duties are excused. As a matter of fact, I’m going to personally escort you to the lab. You’re going to help with a very special test, it a new thing for making body molds. I’m thinking of branching into sex-toys, whattya think, kid?” he winked.
“Sounds ok.” she replied. But it was more than ok with her. If he wanted to use her body as the mold for a sex-doll, sure. The thought of thousands of men screwing her in effigy brought a smile to her lips.
“Well, then,” Harley took her hand, “welcome to Management.”
*************************************************************
Mr. Jim had prepared his “lab” for his upcoming assignment. He knew that he had to properly test the shipping gel, and to boot, he was getting a chance to help with the breaking of one of the girls. He was left out of this ritual more than he’d liked, but every once in a while, he was called on. He had a specific way of “dealing” with the miscreants that Harley sent him.
The table was prepared, and the ruse continued as Harley and Maxine led the clueless Nikki down to the lab.
She was told to strip down to her thong, and for once, she complied. Harley looked her over. Mr. Jim looked her over. Hell, even Maxine looked her over. Under all that make-up and funeral clothing was a girl with a rather nice body. Firm if small tits, slim waist, nice hips. Longer legs than they thought at first.
“I-If you’ll just get ready for the…uhhh….mold! Yeah, the mold…that’s it.”
Harley shot his chemist a stern look. Down boy!
Mr. Jim got a hold of himself and continued.
“If you’ll just climb up there and make yourself comfortable. The base is contoured in the way you need to recline.”
Nikki got on the table an into….what? She’d never imagined anything like this before. It was like a long box without a lid. There was a contoured floor and at the end there were two three-quarter circle holes. Looking at the shape of the resting area, she judged that her feet were going to be hanging out of the box at these holes. She placed her ankles into the receptacles to start her recline, and laid back. The floor contoured to her body as she reclined, and she found herself arched a bit, but comfortable. Her butt was in a shaped seat of sorts, and flowing her body backward, she found that the support under the small of her back caused the middle of her body from ribs to hips to arch. Her head was supported in a slight tip backward and her arms were over her head, resting in cupped supports.
“Now,” Mr. Jim went on, holding a hose in his hand, “we are going to fill up the “tub” here with a new substance we’re working on. For sex-dolls! Yeah…s-sex dolls. It’s going to be kind of thick and gooey, but warm and cozy. Yes…cozy cozy cozy….”
Another warning look from Harley.
“Now, you’ll need to wear earplugs to keep this from getting in your ears. Also, close your eyes, as the tip of the support is going to allow the fluid to flow over them and make a cast of their shape. Your mouth and nose will remain clear, my dear. Also, I’m going to have to apply these rubber rings around your ankles so the fluid doesn’t leak out of the foot holes during the casting. They’re a little cool, so I thought I’d warn you.”
“No sweat,” Nikki replied, a little nervous but looking forward in a way to being covered in something thick and warm.
Maxine placed the rubber earplugs in Nikki’s ears, and Mr. Jim placed the rubber loops over her feet and onto her ankles. Pushing down, the rubber fit tightly into the cut holes.
“Now my dear, relax and breath.”
She couldn’t hear him all that sharply, but she could make out the words. He spoke up.
“Don’t move for thirty seconds! It’s very important!”
“OK,” she said with the smallest of mouth movements.
Mr. Jim turned on the pump and a reddish-orange viscous fluid discharged into the tub and over the body of the girl. It filled until it was along the top edge of the tub. Nikki was submerged in her position. She felt a little cool on her belly, but didn’t give it a thought as the warmth of the fluid was making her feel quite content. She merely assumed that the tub was not full yet.
But it was. Quite full.
While Nikki was in her reverie, Harley gave the signal to Mr. Jim to test his substance. The chemist dropped a black tablet into the fluid.
“And that’s all you need?” asked Harley to his grinning underling.
“Oh, yes, yes! It’s all a chemical reaction on a molecular level….watch…”
The reddish-orange fluid was taking on a redder tone and becoming a tad milky. Worried for a moment that it was becoming hot, Harley stepped to the side of the table and went to place his finger in the fluid. He found it only warm…
…But quite solid.
“Mr. Jim?” Harley eyed the man.
“Y-Yes, Sir?”
“You, my friend….are a twisted little FUCKING GENIUS!!” he roared, patting his friend on the shoulder, “I’ll leave you two alone…remember…..broken.”
“Not a problem, Sir…..”
As his bosses left, he looked at what his time and effort had wrought. The girl was beyond helpless. She was encased in the hardened liquid, now a rock-like plastic. Of her titled-back head, only her mouth nose and lower jaw were visible. Her feet stuck out of the bottom of the tub, the rubber rings holding back the flow of the liquid until it became hard. And her body…
Her body was arched and the liquid had filled in a perfect position. Her biceps disappeared into the plastic casing, but her body from armpits to hips was above the surface. Well, half above, anyway. Her butt was under, the fluid coming to just at her pubic bone, the line of the leather G-String one millimeter under. The plastic ran about a quarter way up her ribcage, leaving most of it heaved upward. Her belly was tight as a drum, and enough of it was still above to expose most of her waist.
And she was also blind and deaf. That was how they’d arranged it. Harley didn’t want her to know she was getting disciplined. He wanted her to merely endure it and be told that any further disobedience would me met with twice the same.
And what better guy than Mr. Jim. That was the thing about him that made him so dear to Harley when his other torments failed.
Needed a slave tickled into submission? Call Jim. Want a quivering wreck where once a person stood? Jim’s your guy.
Nikki was panicking from the moment the gel had hardened. At first she thought that it was part of the process, but after about two minutes, she really started to get scared.
“HEY!!!! What’s going ON?!?!?!? I Can’t hear anything!!!!! You guys there??!?! Come on lemme out!!!! What are you Doo-oo-oooing?”
“Oh, just getting ready to tickle that helpless young body of yours…” Mr. Jim said to no one, knowing full well that she couldn’t hear him.
He approached the spot where her feet poked out of the base. Looking over the tiny toes wiggling in the air, and the smooth pinkish arches, Mr. Jim pulled two instruments off his work tray. Two electric toothbrushes. Unheard by Nikki, they whirred on. Mr. Jim looked like a kid torching an ant with a magnifying glass as he took the sadistic instruments to the soles of the very unprepared captive. Touching them lightly to the instep, Nikki let loose with a howl.
“HHHEEYYYYNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!AAHAHAHEHEHHEHEEEGOOAAAWWWDDD!!….SHITSHITSHIT…HAHAHEHHE…W-WHATTHEHELL…HHAHAHEHHEE..AREYOUDDOOINNNG?!?!?!?!?!…HHEEHAAIIGGHHHH!!!!”
Nikki could not so much as wiggle a fingertip in her defense. She had nowhere to pull her legs, encased in their polymer tomb. She was unaware of anything but the sound of her screams in her ears and the tickling of her feet. She felt the vibrations stop after whatever it was passed over both of her poor feet. Between her toes drove her mad as she felt fingers pulling them back and applying the cruel device to the tender flesh. The next thing she felt wasn’t much better….
…Mr. Jim was tying her toes back to two small rings placed in the base of the tub. Nikki’s soles were stretched and immobile. That’s when he brought the feathers close to her feet. He knew that he didn’t have to taunt her, but it pleased him to know that they were getting closer and closer as she breathed heavily in her encasement, wondering what was coming next, and when.
“Oh, my girl, this is going to be sooooo baaaadddd….” he grinned. The feathers touched the ticklish soles and ran up and down the length of the tied feet.
“OOHHGGOOOOODNOOOOOOOOO!!!!OOOHHHAHAHEHEHE….AIIIIGGGHHHHH…NOOOOOPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEGODOHGOD….AAHAHAHEHHEEHHAAIIGGHH!!”
Mr. Jim was singing to himself like a child. A very twisted little child.
“Tickle feet…tickle feet……he he he…does that tickle little girl…awwwww….kootchi kootchi …watch ‘em wiggle….hahahahahahaaaaaa….”
Mr. Jim was gone. He was the one for this job, and he intended to do it well.
The feathers were replaced by fingers as Jim tortured the girl with solid fifteen minutes of tickling on her tormented soles. Nikki had stopped screaming and was now gasping.
Inside her prison, Nikki was losing it rapidly. She was fuming that she’d been tricked like this, but her major cause of alarm was that they’d apparently decided to try tickling her into obedience. And if they kept it up, it might just work. Nikki could take almost anything.
Almost.
She’s split a guy’s lip for tickling her once. She’d decked a classmate for the same offense. She hated it. It held no pleasure or childish glee for her. There were no thoughts of eroticism associated with tickling for her. It was almost painful, but not quite. It was, plain and simple…torture.
Mr. Jim had ceased his foot torment and moved on to his next target, listening with glee to the pleas issuing from the trapped female.
“P-Please let me out of th-this….no more…(pant)…no more…..I’ll be g-good….I…P-Promise….Oh GOD PLEASE LEMME OUT!!!!!!!!”
Harley had told him two hours, and he was a man of his word.
He rested his hand on her tight belly. Even the touch brought a fresh bout of begging from Nikki.
“OH GOD NO!!!!!! PLEASE DON’T TICKLE ME THERE!!!….PPLLEEEAASSSEEEE!!!”
Mr. Jim ran a single finger up each side of her stretched belly. They were placed halfway between the center and the side. Pressing in, he cherished the feel of the muscle under the skin, its warmth, its softness. Getting the right amount of pressure, he dragged these fingers up then down the length of her belly in a repeating pattern of long slow strokes.
“HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA…HHEEEHAAAAAAAA…ST-STOOOOOPPP!!!!!”
On his last pass up her body, he went farther, bringing his fingers in contact with her ribcage and placed his now-clawed hands over the protruding bones.
“This…is gonna……tiiiccckkklleeeee….” Mr. Jim was singing again to himself.
He dig into the defenseless ribcage with no mercy. Nikki began screaming one long note. He kneaded the skin against the bone, he wriggled a stiff finger between each rib, counting them one by one.
Several times.
Each stroke of Nikki’s ribs brought another bout of hysterical twisted laughter or another blood-curdling scream.
Allowing his captive to catch her breath, he ogled her and thanked God for his job.
“Pleasenomorenomore……(gasp, gasp)…I Can’t…t-take….(pant)…anymoooreeee…”
But Jim was not finished.
Without a word and nary a minute for Nikki to regain some semblance of sanity, he attacked her smooth armpits. He wriggled all of his fingers over the tight ticklish skin as Nikki again screamed, this time with a touch of hoarseness. Slowing down, he trailed his fingers over the sensitive mounds where she shaved, tickling them lightly, then building in pressure and speed.
“OHMYFUCKINGGOOOAAAAWWWWDDDDD!!!!!!NONONONPLEASEPLEASEITTICKLESITTICKLES!!!!……HHHAHAHAHHHEEHEHEHEHEHEHHEEEEEEEEAAAIIIGGHHH!!!!!”
Jim stopped for a quick second, long enough to grab his toothbrushes and rake then over her helpless armpits.
“AAAIIIGGHHH!!!!!…ohGGAAAWWWDDDPLLEEAASSEEE??!?!?!?!!!!!NOOOOAIIGGH!!”
Jim Continued down her body with the evil devices, tickling over each rib on the way, back up under her arms, back over the ribs…then finally trailed it down to a spot over her navel. Nikki was losing her voice, her screams becoming ragged and broken. Blind, deaf and helplessly entombed in hard plastic, she was gripping the remains of her sanity.
Mr. Jim abandoned his tools and used his hands for the rest of this part of the session. Digging his fingers deep into Nikki’s sides, he tickled her on every spot he found still elicited a scream of sorts. All over her belly and sides he searched for places he could cruelly tickle, hard and fast. He showed no mercy as he tickled the extended belly of the poor girl, using both hands like claws in the end to squeeze the upper surface of her waist on both sides, having found her most excruciatingly ticklish spot and giving no quarter.
Nikki was beyond sound. Her gasping breath and hitching noises were telling Mr. Jim that she was nearing the end of consciousness. After a final flurry of tickling up and down her naked body, tickling even her tits this time, he relented.
After all….she needed her rest for the second hour of the session….right?
*************************************************************************
Harley pressed the button on his intercom.
“Maxine, send Nikki in with my lunch, please dear?” he said as he was going over his papers of last night’s huge sale.
“Yes, Love.” she replied.
The girl that came into his office was not even remotely recognizable as the girl that was dragged, bound and gagged yet still struggling, into his Mansion. The last few weeks had seen to that.
She entered the room nude, on hands and knees, with a thick collar around her neck. A tray of food was balanced on her back. Crawling toward her new and accepted Master, she stopped obediently at his side.
Removing the tray, he reached under her chin and lifted her face.
“You have come such a long way, Nikki.”
“Thank you Sir,” she replied, her eyes down.
“Now, go see what Maxine has for you to do. And remember….any back talk and…..”
He ran a finger down her side.
“NO! I’ll be good I SWEAR, SIR!” she pleaded.
As she left the room backward, Harley answered his pager. Picking up the phone, he recognized the voice of his connection in the Central District.
“What’s that?….A new girl?……Boyfriend wants rid of her?…….Uh, huh…..yep…..A handful, huh?……Yeah, that’s a good price….No, we can take care of that….no sweat….ok, bring her in. Later.”
Harley hit the button on his intercom again.
“Mr. Jim?….we’re going to need more of your juice……”