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Candyland. M/f, mmmmm/f, non con sexual

Pseudo5

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Jun 25, 2008
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Or it will be M/f non con sexual - Too much to type out at once, this is the preface. I think a titillating preface, it may be sloppy, I will return soon to finish the story... and get to the tickling.... Thank you for investigating.

Candyland. The Games will begin soon.... :cheer: :omnomnom: :cheer:



Scary guys in large hooded robes were not what Candy expected to see when she woke up. Five of them, in fact. She wondered if she were still asleep but realized the restraints were real, and she jerked on them again as she really woke up.

They just sat quietly and watched her, or she thought they did, since their faces were concealed by their hoods but seemed to be pointed directly at her. The room seemed huge but shadowed, dim, with a few fat candles at least ten feet away on either side, adding to a few high ceiling lights, most of which were trained upon her, so the hooded men were further in shadow. Staring at her, as she stared back with her arms and legs restrained by padded cuffs at wrists and ankles, in a seemingly normal sitting position, wearing less than usual but not naked, secured to a padded chair. Which appeared to be striped red & white....

She thought briefly that this could've been worse, but not much considering she was in what looked like an isolated room, maybe a basement, tied to a chair in what looked like a skimpy harem girl's outfit complete with exotic sandals in front of five large nutcases.

Her husband had liked this sort of getup, she realized, but no, that wasn't possible, and she tried to think why and how or who else would do this. She was afraid to speak since they looked as if they were just staring into her, or their shadowed faces seemed to be, under those hoods...

She pulled at the restraints again, but they were tight and firm, giving her shapely, silky smooth arms & legs only maybe an inch of wiggle room. Nothing to lose.

"Who are you and why am I here like this? What's going on?" She found the courage to speak since their silent stares were more frightening.

The silence stretched for a few seconds, and then the hooded goon in the middle began to answer. "Surely you don't need to ask us this, Mrs. Filmore. You know why you've been removed from mainstream society."

Her eyes opened a little wider. "No, I don't. Please explain, and you don't need to cuff me, I couldn't overpower one of you much less all five I'm sure."

She got the impression the hood in the middle might've been smiling but she couldn't see for sure as he answered, "That's correct, you couldn't. But you're not aware just how pointless such an attempt would be, against even one of us. You're not being honest with us otherwise, but you're correct there." He paused. "Your actions have unfortunately made it necessary for us to keep you restrained in spite of that. We all know you are a menace to society, however sweetly disguised, and we decided it was best to hold your sentencing here. Your husband owned more property than you were aware. He was vastly richer than you were aware, in fact, but he was waiting to share that information with you. As much as he cared for you, his instinct told him it was wise to hold his tongue, wait and see, and after a year or so, you proved him correct.... You were not trustworthy...."

Her eyes went fully wide at the mention of her husband and his estate, and she pulled at her cuffs again. Perhaps subconsciously anxious to get at it faster, a few of the hooded men thought.

"No, no, I'm no menace," she protested, "but you people are, what are you doing? Are you trying to rob me of my inheritance? If I disappear too, a week later, that will be very suspicious, you'll never be able to keep that wealth you say my poor husband had! You have no right to anything he had, whether or not that's true! If you make me sign anything, that signature will be contested, that won't hold up, you won't get away with this!"

The hoods didn't move for a few seconds, and then another one spoke, to her right. "Do you know what has happened to your husband, Mrs. Filmore?"

Candy Filmore went still for a moment, thinking. That voice was familiar, but she didn't want to think about that too closely. She answered in a more sober tone. "No, I don't, but considering the wealth I was aware he had, or has, that he's gone a whole week, and the fact you're here trying to steal it from me tells me he's probably dead." She looked down as if to hide her face to cry.

One of the hooded men began to clap, and one by one all five joined in. Candy looked up at them abruptly, surprised.

The middle one spoke again as the applause faded. "You're good. We knew it, but if we didn't, you'd almost certainly convince us. Small consolation to your husband, of course. Your 'poor' husband, as you call him, should feel better about having been taken in, you'd fool a pro. But of course you are one yourself..." Her eyes narrowed at that statement, but she didn't interrupt him.

"You're sitting there as his wife or his widow, you say you don't know where he's gone, you're faced with five cloaked strangers who are talking about his estate... and you never once ask us if he's alive, if we know where he is, if we're responsible for having taken him... There's no outrage for him, no tears, no real sadness.... The only discomfort you display is for yourself and anger at the thought of losing his wealth to other thieves. Do you deny this? And do you deny your guilt in his disappearance?"

Her jaw dropped in outrage. "You're accusing me? That's crazy! Of course I had nothing to do with that! I have an ironclad alibi, but you probably know that!"

The hooded man in the middle leaned forward. "You are sure about this? You don't wish to reconsider that statement?"

Candy shook her head, full lips pursed, in part so they wouldn't quiver. "What are you trying to do here? Scare me into confessing something on tape that I didn't do so you can steal my husband's estate?" She added, "DO you have him? I didn't think you would tell me, but it looks like you know more than you're saying. I know this is a setup! My lawyer will not let you get away with this!"

The spokesman leaned back. "We certainly know more than we're telling you, but you also know much more than you're telling us. Very clever, you're a better actress in person than you were on television. Not a good financial manager, of course, but a much better actress. Aside from one token question on your husband's behalf, again all your real concern is for his estate... And we don't need to get you on tape, Mrs. Filmore."

Candy relaxed visibly at this statement, though she was of course still fidgeting with the firm padded cuffs.

"We already have you on tape. We just thought it would be much more fun to administer justice ourselves after hearing what you have to say for yourself. You're a spoiled, stone cold liar and you've become a dangerous sociopath if you weren't already one. A would-be black widow. Perhaps you've already killed other fools, and it is obvious you'd have no reservations about doing this again."

She sat up, shocked straight at attention again as the middle man pressed a button on a dark box next to him, a CD player of some kind. Her own voice filled the room, loud and clear.

"Yes, you'll each get 100 grand once I get the video. Make it good. Interesting. He's a kinky sicko, he'll go out happy. You wouldn't believe what he told me he's into..."

The male she was talking with answered. His doubt came through clearly in the recording. "Are you sure, ma'am? We can make it quick, one between the eyes, standard assassination, if you're absolutely sure you want to do this..."

Candy laughed coarsely on tape before replying. But sitting in person before these odd hooded men, she winced as she heard her own answer before she could stop herself from making the gesture.

"No, this is an opportunity! I want a great S&M video. Make sure he gets all those treatments we discussed, tied to a tree or something, be more creative. The more perverse the better, in boxers, briefs, naked, weird positions, costumes, whatever looks entertaining. Tie him upside down. The nutjob likes tickling, spanking, whipping, he deserves whatever you do, live out your fantasies...."

The middle man hit the button again to stop the tape. Candy sat frozen, thinking fast. "Tha-that wasn't, was not me! That's wrong, you paid someone to...."

"No, you paid one of us in person, there is no mistake." The hooded spokesman cut her off, his voice suddenly very cold again. "There is video of that as well, we'll show you later, not that we needed any more convincing. We gave you every opportunity to back out of this, but you were insistant. Luckily you chose the wrong men to hire..."

"They offered me!" Candy shouted, panicking, jerking at her restraints. "This is a setup! They convinced me! You didn't hear the first conversations I had with them!!"

Silence.
Then, "Yes I did. In fact I heard it while you were talking to them.... You know that was only one very damning segment of our evidence, we have you on tape and video for a total of at least an hour, over a two week period, in high definition." He leaned forward again, his long fingers steepled in front of him.
"You're now talking to the very men you yourself hired, and you're still denying this?! Your critics were right, you do have balls. They didn't push you, they merely insinuated that if you were unhappy they could help you 'fix' your situation.... You demanded some of the worst options possible when they weren't even offered." She looked like the quintessential deer in headlights, shocked into stillness as he continued.

"Of course you were set up. But most wives with doting husbands would never take any such bait, much less hire professional killers to torture those generous men to death in what would be an especially gruesome snuff film. Most would warn their husbands and call the cops, not give the killers more suggestions for humiliations and tortures..." The middle man shook his head.
"And if they were unhappy, they would be more than satisfied with a lucrative divorce settlement. But not you... No matter how good an actress you are, with this video and audio taped evidence you'd be sentenced to life in prison by any jury, if not death."

"But like I said," the cloaked figure continued, as all five men stood and pulled off their hoods.... "it was a much better idea to try you here in my own court, on my own estate, in the luxury of my own specially equipped dungeon; why should I let your guards and cellmates have fun with you for the next 25-to-life when you owe ME that pleasure.... all those pleasures, in fact.... and a few more...
I didn't get them freely as your husband, so I'll now take them as your would-be victim."

Her husband stepped forward, his normally sweet smile twisted into a bitter leer. "This sounds like a script from one of your cheap movies but I don't care. I gave you everything, I was careful to be attentive to your needs without forcing my own, I told you my deepest secrets and instead of sharing these interests you turned around and would've used them to kill me slowly for entertainment.... You didn't need money, why would you want such a disgusting video? Why would you want me dead? I didn't even make you sign a pre-nup, but an obscenely generous settlement of what you thought would be several million wasn't enough for you?!?!"

Candy's lush mouth had fallen open, temporarily speechless. She realized she'd known it was him, but she couldn't wrap her mind around her utter failure, her foolishness... allowing herself to get caught... and the penalties.... No, this couldn't be happening....

"I -- Carl -- that -- you have video?" She faltered, because he was right, the audio was more than enough, she'd be more foolish to insult his intelligence further now, she recognized two guys she'd bartered with standing beside him and she knew needed to find a plausible excuse fast.
"I -- I don't know, please, I was stupid, Carl, I'm so relieved you're here, I don't want you dead, I got greedy, I was crazy, taking drugs, I wasn't in my right mind, darling, please, just let me go and I'll disappear instead if you want, I'll sign a pre-nup right now, whatever it takes..."

"You did disappear, and you won't need to sign anything." That cold voice shut her up again. And that smile was back. She hardly recognized him, his tone was so different... He was beautiful, and it was true, he'd been kind to her, but she'd thought he was such a boring, sick, rich wimp.... nothing like the harsh judge standing in front of her.

"You'll literally do whatever I want, whenever I tell you, for at least the next twenty years and probably the rest of your life. That would've been your jail time. You will otherwise be treated well. Certainly much better than you would have treated me. You not only requested my prolonged torture but wanted my painfully humiliating death on tape so the world could bear witness as well, you'd have probably put it on pay-per-view." He was very matter-of-fact, and that was even creepier...

"This is your sentence. You are no longer my wife, since you'd gladly be my torturer and my killer instead. Our marriage is being annulled as we speak. Copies of your repeated requests for my slow tortured murder have been sent to TV stations as well as state and federal courts, audio and video. It'll be all over the news. You disappeared rather than turn yourself in, 'darling....'" The leer widened. "But you'll really be famous now."

"And you have no inkling of my reach." He continued, though she was momentarily too stunned to speak. "Of my real wealth, of my real identity. These men have saved my life before, I've saved theirs, they don't need my money, they have their own. But even when poor, they proved time and again they would have died rather than do what you demanded, they wouldn't do that to an animal, and you claimed you loved me..."

"I did! I do, honey, please, I'm so sorry, it was the drugs, I went to a few too many parties!" She was beginning to fully realize the extent of her mistake, and panic set in deeper. "I was out of my mind, really, listen to me..."

"That's enough." He hardly raised his voice but then he didn't need to. His eyes were hard, disgust and hurt overriding his frustration and lust. "It isn't wise to lie to me further. You were sober. We all made sure of that, each time you spoke with someone on the phone or in person. I don't even need the video. I have you on tape asking eagerly for the final copy..." The men next to him muttered to each other, shaking their heads.

"You will not dare offend me further. I have a vast store of bondage equipment tailored to your body and my every last desire, and that includes gags of many sorts. I prefer not to use them since I greatly prefer the sound of... delicious desperation...." Her eyes bugged as his leer returned. "But they all allow you to breathe through your mouth, not to interfere with the basic sounds I wish to hear, and some are even whimsical, they'll amplify your squeals nicely, you'll imitate a monkey or a bird, for instance..."

Candy began tugging frantically at her bonds again, but she was going nowhere and she knew it. "No, no, Carl, really, OMG, you don't understand, please, I was afraid for my life, I couldn't tell you, I was afraid, I'll tell you the whole story, my ex boyfriend demanded...."

"That's it." Carl motioned to the first man his wife had asked to kill him, and he moved off to the side. "You're either a pathological liar or grasping at straws now. I told you not to offend me further with your bullshit, as if arranging a slow death wasn't enough. You have thoroughly removed all guilt I would have felt, all guilt I've struggled with since boyhood, the guilt which kept me from doing what I really wanted to do for years, to you and to girlfriends all my life. I should thank you. I can now live out every fantasy, every fetish, everything you condemned me to endure.... and my friends, my brothers, may do the same."

Candy stopped struggling to gape at him. "What? Your... brothers? No, no, please, Carl, you can't..."

He smiled down at her and she chilled. "My friends are closer than brothers, but we refer to each other as such. Three are happily married, one has a girlfriend, aand all those women are what we call 'vanilla,' they either can't stand or seriously hate tickling and spanking, they're not kinky... But it's not just me, Candy dear, all my friends are frustrated fetishists as well. Like me, they'd never impose their darker desires upon a woman..."

"However, what you've done has broken all boundaries, you have removed any and all guilt, you'd have tortured someone who loved you to death, you more than forfeited any claim to mercy or freedom.... and I am indebted to them again for my life. The least I can do is allow them to live out the fantasies you promised them yourself."

She resumed her struggle with her bonds as he came closer to her. "Omg no, Carl that's crazy, do you hear yourself? Please, I'll do anything you want, Carl, just don't let them touch me too..." She couldn't stand the thought of one man tickling or spanking her, the idea of five...

He smiled sweetly at her. "Now Candy, you just heard yourself on tape, INSISTING they all take part in fulfilling their fantasies with MY body, correct? They'll simply do the same, except with YOURS instead, you must admit that's only fair! But have no fear, even if they were single, the only cock you'll get is mine, and then only when you beg for it to my satisfaction."
Her fingers and toes spread in a spasm as she gaped up at him from her chair.

"Listen carefully, I won't be happy if I need to repeat myself and neither will you. You will obey them as you will obey me, you will immediately listen and not interrupt us when we speak, you will take any position, any clothing we prefer, and we will all finally get to live out our every last fantasy, as you offered, for as long as we like!
Those were the terms you insisted upon, and we honor our promises." He grinned wider.

"As long as there is no penetration they may do whatever they please, and you will do whatever pleases them. This will of course include footjobs, and you'd better be thorough or they'll have to discipline you further.... The only other restriction here is that they not mark you -- instead of whips we agreed to use broad leather straps, which of course will leave your bare buttocks nicely pinkened but also so much more ticklish to the slightest touch...." Candy was shaking her head wildly while trying to pull free, much to the amusement of the men around her.

"You will refer to me as Master, and to them as Sir. You are our tickle slave, my sex slave, a wonderfully ticklish toy. You will be tickled and spanked at our whim, you will not hesitate to be obedient, and you will thank us for the priviledge or you won't find satisfaction for a month. Minimum. None of this is debatable. Keep in mind I have "alternate" straitjackets with strategic peek-a-boo holes as well as musical gags.... I didn't share the depths of my imagination with you entirely either..." She was mesmerized, staring at him half in horror and half in newfound respect.

"We are all so glad you sealed your own fate and removed almost all of our civilized inhibitions. You will be far more grateful that we still have some as civilized men, but we also have very intense needs.... You offered us someone else's body and so we will gladly accept yours. We'll arrange sessions according to our schedules." He continued as she struggled both to free herself and not to interrupt him...

"They'll want to get back to their women as soon as possible after playing with you... for a half hour, an hour... their women will be very grateful as well. You will give their husbands the outlet they've craved all their lives, and none of them will ever need Viagra..." The men chuckled behind him.
"You will then beg ever more desperately for my cock when they're through teasing and tormenting your soft, helpless, ticklish flesh.... Every inch of it, as they see fit." Candy looked up at her ex husband with full horror at that statement, and he laughed. "You are now a toy, as I said, a tickle slave, you are here to fulfill our needs. If you behave I'll fulfill yours, and you will be grateful. If you don't...." He laughed again, though not nearly as coarsely as she had when ordering his torture. "You'll pay dearly and you'll learn the meaning of screaming frustration...."

He cocked his head to the side and considered her. "I might keep your bare ass sticking out in my hallway as a conversation piece when I have special guests.... perhaps with your bare feet secured nicely, prominently on either side... You'll have a musical gag of course, no one will believe you're not a willing player, they know I'd never do such a thing to another person, an unwilling person... or should I say, an undeserving person..." He laughed.
"They can listen to you squealing while they tease your toes and tickle your fancies.... Ooooh yes, I'll have all sorts of toys laid out for them, and you'll have a video monitor on your side of the wall if you're good, so you can see them approach, watch them smile as they play with your exposed privates or spank your spread cheeks after playing piggies.... And it'll be fun, you know I have very important visitors...."
He was getting an enormous erection just thinking about that visual, her ass and bare feet sticking out of that wall they'd designed specially, but it wasn't obvious, hidden within the cloak he still wore... He grinned again, knowing that would now be a very frequent occurrance.

And there was just so very much fun to look forward to, he didn't want to tell her everything all at once...
 
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Awesome story so far.

I don't comment on stories nearly as often as I should, just wanted to say I really enjoyed this one so far. I really love stories that mix a good, hard spanking with tickling.

Hopefully there will be more of both in the upcoming parts. I agree that a well-spanked bottom is even more ticklish.
 
excellent start ,to what promises to be a most unique and distinctly originial story ....great work ....please continue ,you have my total attention ....
 
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