dardanos78
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Nov 22, 2001
- Messages
- 152
- Points
- 16
Hello everyone. Its been many months since I have been on the internet (long story) but I have finally gotten back on. During my hiatus I was able to write another story. I hope you all like it, it is a little long so please bear with it. Anyways...enjoy.
Prologue
Call him Victor. He is tall, lanky, wears glasses, and he could tell you where each bathroom is located on the starship Enterprise. He was also in his senior year of high school. He and his small circle of friends were not exactly the “popular” crowd; and they accepted this as such. And if it weren’t for Victors’ more secular desires; he and his friends might have enjoyed more peaceful lives.
Victors’ problem was his insatiable desire for Marcy. You see, any other person would have seen Marcy as just another high school athlete. She stood about 5’6” with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and an athletic body, nothing special. The sight that Victor beheld was so much more. When he longingly stared at her hair, it seemed to seductively dance to him, beckoning him to run his fingers through the dark strands of silk. Looking into her eyes, was like watching two gemstones descend into a fathomless abyss, Victor often found himself drowning in them. Her body….her body was nothing less than perfect. Each curve of her body was intoxicating. Her skin, from head to toe, was as soft and supple as a newborn babies, the thought of touching it set Victors’ mind ablaze with an unquenchable inferno of lust and desire. Truly there was no other in this world or the next that was meant for him. The problem for poor Victor was that as much as he was enamored with Marcy, she did not share his sentiment…
Simply put; Marcy was more like a typical athlete. She went to parties to drink, meet cute guys, and otherwise spend her last days of high school in nothing but an alcohol induced haze. The guys she liked were other jocks, she didn’t really have boyfriends, more like friends with benefits. The current friend’s name was Jason. He was captain of the Lacrosse team; and was the proverbial thorn in Victor’s side. He cheated on Marcy often. She even cheated on him a couple times, but they both knew and didn’t care. After all, they couldn’t be expected to just date each other, there were so many other opportunities out there that were too tempting to pass up.
Victor wished that he were one of her flings, so he could show her that she didn’t need anyone else but him. He often spoke openly about this to his friends, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Jason. Jason, and his partners in crime known as the Lacrosse team, used this as an excuse to make Victor’s and his friends’ lives a living hell. From stuffing them in lockers and knocking down books in the hallway, Jason and his friends were unrelenting in their assault. Soon Victor’s friends stopped hanging out with him just to end the constant torment. He ended up alone, but undeterred by his tormenters.
The senior prom was coming up soon; Victor was working up the courage to ask Marcy out to the prom. He had heard that Jason wasn’t going to the prom so he might have a chance.
It was a week before the prom and Victor had already made the preparations for his date. The only obstacle now was to ask Marcy if she would go. Victor knew exactly when he was going to ask her. Marcy was in his last period study hall. She had track practice after school; so he knew she wouldn’t be leaving early like the other seniors.
When last period came, Victor quickly sped to his classroom and took his seat; which was to the back and left of Marcys’. Marcy was already seated reading one of her anatomy textbooks. Like most of the other athletes in her school, she was studying to become a physical therapist so anatomy was a required course. Victor thought that she was so beautiful when he looked at her. The way that the light from outside shone in caused an almost angelic aura around Marcy. It took Victor most of the class period to build up the courage to ask her. During class he was noticeably uncomfortable, he was fidgeting in his chair and he even bit the eraser out of his pencil. Victor finally rose from his seat a few minutes before the end of class. “It’s now or never” Victor thought to himself.
“Umm, Marcy? Would you p..please do me the honor of being m..my date for the prom next week?” Each second noticeably passed, as time seemed to halt while he waited for an answer. Marcy looked up at Victor’s face; it was obvious he was nervous cause he was perspiring heavily. She said, “Well no one else has asked me so, ok.” Victor nearly fell down, every part of his body told him it was too good to be true, girls like her don’t go to proms with guys like me, Victor thought to himself. As his mind replayed her words over and over again, he could find no signs of sarcasm. His excitement grew; it started to set in; she actually said yes! “Great, I’ll pick you up at six o’clock on the dot ok.” She nodded in approval and went back to reading her book.
Friday’s arrival could not have come any slower for poor Victor. His mind was a turbulent river of thought and fantasy colliding in a veritable hurricane of anticipation.
His excitement caused him to actually feel each second agonizingly pass by; but he just couldn’t take his mind off of her.
When Friday finally came, Victor was prepared to dazzle and amaze. He wore a jet-black tuxedo with matching bow tie. He was even running a sticky brush over his outfit to get all the lint and cat hairs that had collected on it. He even bought new socks and underwear to complete his almost perfect attire.
Victor knew that Marcy’s favorite color was purple so he searched everywhere he could until he found a purple corsage. When Victor found what he was looking for at a florist he knew it, as it stood out among the rest. It was a soft violate orchid with a white ribbon wrapped around a delicate white silk cloth that adorned its stem. Somehow the pin even added a touch of metallic beauty to the flower. It was perfect, perfect for Marcy.
While he was putting the finishing touches on his newly shorn hair he heard a car horn blow outside. “The limo is here!” Victor had saved quite a bit of money from his job at the local restaurant. He had few expenses so he was able to save quite a bit. He used most of it on his tux, and had just enough to rent a limousine for the night. He bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen to get the corsage out of the refrigerator; and like a black blur was out the door and on his way to his beloved’s house.
When he arrived at Marcy’s house he calmly walked up the granite sidewalk toward her front door. Her lawn was a lush green, speckled with the occasional spot of yellow. The garden along the sidewalk was filled with robust bushes and delicate roses. It was clear that great care was taken with each flower. When Victor reached the steps, he brought the corsage in front of him and stared at it, as if to relieve his anxiety. He ascended the steps and rang the doorbell. A lump grew in his throat the size of a softball. After a few moments he could hear footsteps come to the door; it was the sound of bare feet smacking on tile. When the door opened he was greeted by a tall woman, in her late thirties who was the spitting image of Marcy, albeit an older one. “You must be Victor, come on in.” She exclaimed. He cleared his throat and entered the house. “Marcy is upstairs finishing up, she will be down in a minute.” She said absently while walking away. “Please make yourself comfortable while she finishes up.” As she motioned to the couch. As he walked through the short hallway between the front door and the living room Victor admired the many pictures that decorated the walls. Mostly pictures from family outings and formal events with the occasional school photo. There were several of Marcy, showing her different pictures through each grade. Even in her youth she maintained that special beauty that intoxicated Victor. He then continued into the living room where he saw Marcy’s mother straightening up while her father sat reclining in a chair reading the newspaper. Victor introduced himself to the both of them before sitting on the couch across from Marcy’s father.
After about five minutes of awkward silence, Marcy finally came down the stairs and presented herself to Victor and her parents. Victor stood and turned and was breathless when his eyes caught site of Marcy. She wore a dark purple satin evening gown that seemed to conform to each curve of her body. Victor’s eyes were then drawn down as he noticed she was not wearing any shoes. Clad in just flesh colored stockings, she held her shoes in her hands. That is what Victor was hoping he would see tonight. The one thing that he never told anybody, not even his friends or family was that he loved feet. More specifically he loved tickling feet. He kept this a secret because if anyone at school had found out he would have never been able to show his face in public again.
He quickly made eye contact with her so as not to arouse any suspicion of his secret desire. “Never have I gazed upon something so beautiful.” He said as his heart pounded. Marcy blushed a little and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you!” Her father peeked around his newspaper briefly and then went back to reading. Victor then presented Marcy with the corsage. He took great care in pinning it to her right shoulder strap. When finished he took a step back to admire his date. “Ok you two have fun and don’t stay out too late.” She said as she walked them to the door. Victor thought it was odd that her mother didn’t want to take pictures, perhaps they just weren’t the types to gush over things. As Marcy put her shoes on Victor said “Is something wrong, it seemed a bit tense in there?” She looked at him almost shocked at the question “Don’t worry about it that’s just how my parents are.” She said as she finished with her shoes. They then made their way to the limousine.
Inside the limousine Victor had placed himself next to Marcy, but when he sat down she moved away from him closer to the window. Victor didn’t know how to take this. She wasn’t even looking at him; she just stared out the window as if she were ignoring him. “So you excited tonight?” His voice was filled with hope as he spoke. She looked at him and smiled “yep.” And then turned back toward the window. Victor couldn’t help but feel a little ignored. “You look very pretty tonight, I really like your dress.” He said, undeterred by her sudden lack of personality. She turned again and smiled “thanks.” And again stared out the window. He didn’t know why but something was wrong.
After a few moments of silence Marcy kicked off her shoes and placed her legs up on the seat of the limousine. Her soles were staring right at Victor. His heart raced as he carefully studied each curve of her foot; he adoringly gazed at each perfectly placed toe. He could tell she took very good care of them, there was not a callus or blister on either of her feet. He just had to know one thing, was she ticklish. During the ride he played scenarios out in his head trying to find a good reason to tickle her feet without looking childish or perverted. She hadn’t even noticed him blatantly staring at her feet. How could she, her eyes were fixated on the passing trees and houses outside the limo. Her eyes were glued to the window like a child’s’ eyes glued to a television set. Nothing short of the car coming to a sudden halt would have pulled her attention from the window. This somewhat angered him, he had spent so much time and money trying to do something special for her, and she just ignored him. Slowly a little flame grew inside Victor, the more he thought, the bigger it got. Until eventually it reached its breaking point, he reached out and dragged a finger down the sole of her left foot. Marcy let out a yelp and pulled her feet up under her to protect herself. She looked at him with a mischievous grin. “Hey, don’t do that!” She said as she rubbed her feet. “What’s the matter, ticklish?” He said with a hint of arrogance. “No, you just surprised me, that’s all.” Victor didn’t believe a word she said. She was ticklish and he knew it. Victor wanted to just grab her ankles and walk his fingers over her feet but he didn’t want to anger her anymore so he just sat and fantasized about what it would be like.
As the limo arrived at the school, Victor peered out the window. He saw a few students gathered about the main entrance. He couldn’t help but feel a bit regal. The limo pulled up to the front steps that lead to the main entrance. Victor was the first to exit the limo, and afterward he helped Marcy out and led her into the school.
When they arrived in the gymnasium he quickly surveyed his surroundings. People were scattered throughout the gym. All of the tables were draped in blue and white displaying the school colors; and each were quaintly adorned with a floral centerpiece. The DJ had set up on the stage facing the dance floor, he was playing various 80’s dance hits. Victor eyed the refreshment table, it was littered with a bevy of snacks and drinks; his mouth watered at the thought of food, he hadn’t eaten all day.
“Do you want a drink?” Victor shouted at Marcy. “Sure.” She yelled back. Victor proceeded to run a gamut of aimless bodies in motion trying to get to the refreshment table; he bumped into a rather large fellow wearing an awful colored blue pastel tuxedo. Victor then realized while looking back that it was Jason, he decided to come to the prom after all. Victor put this troubling thought out of his mind, after all Marcy was HIS date tonight.
After a few minutes of searching while trying not to spill the drinks, Victor spied Marcy standing across the other end of the dance floor, and as he walked toward her he realized she wasn’t by herself. She was holding hands with someone. As he got closer and the faceless hordes’ parted the way, he found out who that hand belonged to. It was Jason. Victor stopped in his tracks and as if in unison, so did his heart. His face turned a pale white and his knees started to buckle. He felt sick to his stomach. He had been betrayed.
Jason parted with Marcy; he slowly walked towards the now broken boy. “What’s the matter dork, night not going as planned?” Jason said mockingly. Before Victor could respond he realized that he was just surrounded by guys all dressed in tuxedos. Looking upon each face, he noticed that they were Jason’s friends on the Lacrosse team. Victor spun around looking for some measure of escape, but alas there was none.
Jason got up close, right in Victor’s face. His breath stinking of tequila. “I am sick and tired of you stalking Marcy!” He yelled. “So tonight we are going to teach you a lesson.” Jason turned to remove his coat; and as he came back around he caught Victor off guard and slammed his fist in Victor’s stomach. Because Victor doubled over in pain, he wasn’t able to dodge the knee that was quickly driven into his face. Victor now lay on the floor in pain and disillusioned. He wasn’t quite sure what happened, or where he was for that matter.
When the room stopped spinning he looked up and saw Marcy standing next to Jason. Her once angelic smile, now a devilish grin. “She did this.” He thought. She did this to me. Victor started to get up, but was quickly knocked down again with a blow to the back of the head. While on his back, the Lacrosse team began to strip Victor of his clothes. Before long he was left a broken and battered mess, quivering on the floor in his underwear. A crowd had gathered around, some faces were actually full of pity; but most were filled with amusement. He shut his eyes hoping that the laughter would go away just as quickly as the faces. Sadly, they did not.
Right as the crowd disbursed the chaperones of the prom helped Victor to his feet and helped to cover him up. As he walked to the door Victor bowed his head in shame and humiliation. All he could hear were the whispers and the laughter. They echoed throughout his mind. He closed his eyes and the only thing he saw was Marcy’s face smiling at him as he was beaten. That image was forever burned into his mind. Now his desire for Marcy evolved into something else. It manifested itself as something much more malevolent. Now his only goal in life was to get back at those that hurt him.
Part II
Life has many motivations that drive us to do our best. For some people its family others its love, but some people use less positive means for their motivation. For people like Victor, revenge can be just as powerful a tool as love or family. When your thoughts are all concentrating on one defining moment in your life it’s amazing what you can accomplish.
Ten years after “the incident” Victor is now a high level executive at a large marketing firm. He makes more in 6 months than most people could hope to make in their lifetime. Along with his success Victor decided that a change of appearance was in order. He got corrective surgery for his eyes so he could rid himself of his damnable glasses. He hired a personal trainer to help him with his physique; he is not nearly as scrawny as he used to be. And he can still tell you anything about the starship Enterprise. With the looks of a model and the wallet to match the world is his oyster.
Early one morning, Victor had just risen from bed; he went down to the kitchen so he could get some breakfast. He noticed today’s mail sitting on the counter; he grabbed the envelopes and started to rummage through the letters. The last letter was from his high school. He grabbed a knife and quickly sliced the letter open. It was a letter about his ten-year high school reunion. It was being held at his school in a month. A gleam sparkled in Victors’ eye. It was time to fulfill his vendetta. He quickly ran to his computer to make arrangements for his return home.
Thursday
When Victor arrived in his old town, he immediately went to his parent’s old house. When he had made his initial fortune he bought them a condo in Florida, but he kept the house. He even made a few renovations to it. Victor rarely came up this way so, with exception to a monthly housekeeper, it remained empty most of the time. When he entered the house, he immediately went down into the basement. He really didn’t have any interest in the rest of the house; just in what was in the basement.
One of the renovations that Victor had done was that he had another room added to the basement. It was a large padded room, insulated and soundproof. The room was fairly drab and boring. It was all black; the only decorations were a single light in the center of the ceiling and a large heavy table directly under it. It was no ordinary table though, at its head it brandished a heavy wooden cylinder; at each end snaked out a leather cuff attached to a chain. The cylinder had a crank on one end so it could be turned to retract the cuffs. At the foot it had a set of stocks, the inside of each foot-hole was padded so it wouldn’t hurt its captive. The stocks themselves were thick and heavy; no one would ever be able to escape them. To top it all off, above each hole were a set of silver rings so he could totally immobilize his victims’ toes by tying them back. Victor examined all points of the table, making sure that each part was still in full working order. His mouth salivated as he stared at his contraption. He waited ten years for this moment.
Fortunately the school made the RSVP list available for anyone to see, and Marcy’s name was on it. He did a little checking up on his former crush. It turns out she dropped out of college and never became a physical therapist. Instead she works as a receptionist at a doctor’s office. She never got married and is currently not seeing anyone. He even checked up on his old friend Jason. It turns out he is in jail for accidental manslaughter. Apparently he got drunk and killed somebody in a bad car wreck, this time he definitely won’t be showing up. It was perfect, she won’t have anyone to miss her, and they won’t be expecting her at work until Monday.
Friday
Victor pulled into the parking lot of his old high school. He decided to be fashionably late so he didn’t seem eager and desperate. As soon as he walked in a woman around his age greeted him and asked for his name. Judging from her overly perky demeanor, Victor deduced who she was. Sally Felcher, a serious over-achiever from his class, you name the school event; she had a hand in it somewhere. He wouldn’t be surprised if her blood was blue and white just to match the school colors. Victor gave her his name; she glanced through her clipboard and found his nametag. “I can’t seem to remember you, though the name sounds familiar!” She exclaimed while handing him his nametag. “I’ve changed a bit since high school, picture me with glasses and a little thinner. It slowly dawned on her simple mind who he was “Wow you look great, I’m happy you showed up….” She then droned on and on about town and school matters that Victor really didn’t care for. “Well as you can tell everyone is in the gym so go in and have a good time.” She said with her plastic smile. Victor put his nametag on and walked toward the gym; as he walked by she stole a few glances at him, in awe of his different appearance.
Unlike Victor, his school had not changed much since he graduated; the gymnasium looked nearly the same as it did ten years ago. The sight of it had sent a chill up his spine. This is where it had all happened. The sight of it all caused a downward spiral of emotions and melancholy thoughts that nearly paralyzed him. His muscles tensed and his teeth clenched as he remembered the way his clothing was torn from his vulnerable flesh. His knees became weak so he had to lean up against the wall for support so he wouldn’t collapse. He tried to regain his composure but when he gazed up at the lights, the room began to spin uncontrollably; and the music that once filled the air changed; it now sounded like a chorus of laughter. The laughter rang out in his ears; it was maniacal and hateful. Victor just wanted to curl into a ball and bury the trauma that weighed so heavy on him, just when he was about to turn and leave he remembered what he was there for; revenge. Suddenly he relaxed and took a few deep breaths. As he drew in each breadth the laughter seemed to change from a hurtful laugh to a more anguished and tortured laugh. This brought a sinister smile to Victors’ face; his white polished teeth gleamed as devilish thoughts raced through his traumatized mind. Victor then realized that he would get nowhere with his little plan acting like a total psychopath in front of Marcy, so he straightened himself out and went over to the bar for a little liquid courage.
Victor sat close to the bartender and ordered his usual poison from him. He then turned to scan the vast expanse that was the gymnasium for his target. His eyes were beholden to stories of regret and mediocrity. There were former athletes who were now balding and overweight squeezed ever-so tightly into their varsity jackets in a vain attempt to regain the pride and dignity they once held. Next to them were women wearing short skirts and low cut blouses in an obvious and vain attempt to land themselves in the loving arms of anyone who has made something of their lives, hoping that they might bring some sort of resolution to their otherwise empty existence. Then there were the select few that grew to be successful in their lives; Victor couldn’t understand why they came, after all if it weren’t for his little vendetta he certainly wouldn’t have come. Perhaps they came with ulterior motives similar to Victor’s. It mattered not, he had other business to attend to.
A few drinks later Victor’s eyes were drawn toward the entrance of the gym. A ravishing young lady just walked into the building, dressed in a white sequined evening gown. He knew exactly who she was. Her hair had not lost any of the luster that used to make Victor weak in the knees. Her eyes, even from across the room, still shone brightly like two perfect diamonds. Her tan skin, so soft and supple, still melted Victor’s heart. It was Marcy, she finally showed up. “Let the games begin.” He said under his breath.
For a moment Victor had forgotten all his woes and became lost in the beauty that was Marcy. Quickly though, like a devil on his shoulder, Victor’s feelings ripped him from his dream when he remembered what she had done to him ten years ago.
Marcy made her way over to some friends sitting at a table. Although his courage faltered a bit, Victor was determined and resolute. He would not let anything stand in his way. He turned to the bartender and ordered one last drink to help him relax. As Victor made his way through the crowds he couldn’t help but feel a bit of déjà vu.
Victor then had a thought; he quickly removed his nametag so Marcy wouldn’t know who he was; that way he could toy with her for a while before exacting his revenge. Marcy’s friends had gone to talk to other people so she was left alone at the table. Victor made his move “Excuse me, I’m sorry for bothering you; but I am trying to remember your name, isn’t it Mary?” Victor asked coyly. “It’s Marcy, I’m sorry but I don’t remember you did you graduate the same year?” She said while scratching her head. “Yes I did actually, but you probably won’t remember me even if I told you.” He said while sitting down next to her. Marcy suddenly became intrigued by the mystery man that just sat down next to her, perhaps it was worth her coming after all. “So if you won’t tell me your name what will I call you?” She asked playfully. Victor thought for a moment “Porter, you can call me Porter for now.” Victor said in a smug way; he always was a Mel Gibson fan. “So PORTER, what do you do for a living?” She asked while sipping a martini. Victor then wove an extravagant tale of his rise to fortune. Marcy was very impressed; she hung on every word that spewed forth. She was spellbound, everything she wanted in a man was sitting right in front of her, he had money, power, and looks; this was too good to be true. Victor had sewn an intricate web of half-truths’ and exaggerated memories. Marcy was unknowingly caught in Victor’s trap and Victor knew it.
After a few dances and a few more drinks both Victor and Marcy decided to call it a night. Marcy had a few more drinks than Victor and thus was hardly able to walk. He helped her to his car where she promptly passed out. Things had been going much better than he had planned. He then drove her back to his house, where her fate awaited her.
Victor carried his unconscious victim into his house and set her on the couch. When he set her down he drew his eyes over every inch of her body. His confidence faltered a bit; but he managed to steel himself and began his preparations. The first thing he did was remove her shoes. Her feet had gained a few calluses since he last laid eyes upon them; but otherwise they were still just as beautiful. Her arches were milky white and very soft. Each toe had a nice rose color to it, as did her heels. The tops of her feet were nice and tan and nearly as soft as her arches. Her toes were painted with a soft pink color; its contrast with her tan skin made her feet look very sexy.
Victor’s excitement grew; he just couldn’t wait till morning. Starting at her ankles and working toward her toes he began caressing the tops of her feet. His fingers barely touched her skin as he lovingly savored each stroke; sometimes he even managed to elicit some giggles from his sleeping beauty. He did not want to wake her just yet so he set her feet down and went into the bathroom to get some things. When he came back he was carrying a large plastic container filled with warm water. He set it down near her feet and added some Epsom salt to the water. He then placed her feet in the water, while they soaked Victor began collecting his instruments of torture that he planned on using on Marcy.
After about a half-hour of soaking Victor returned to Marcy, this time brandishing a pumice stone. He removed her left foot from the water and dried it off. The Epsom salt really helped in softening her skin; he began scrubbing at her heel, the rough patches of skin slowly fell away making even her heels extremely soft and sensitive. Next, he moved to the pads of her feet, again the skin easily came off revealing the soft tender flesh underneath just waiting to be tormented. Finally, Victor moved to the toes. He took great care in getting in between each toe. When he was done he admired his work for a moment before repeating each step on her other foot. It was perfect, her feet did not have any signs of rough skin, her torture would be absolute. He then began work on the other foot.
To complete the preparations Victor applied a foot moisturizer to her feet. He made sure to put gobs of lotion on each foot until they were very slippery. Marcy must have liked the massage she was getting cause a few moans escaped from her slumber. After that he took some small plastic baggies and covered each foot with one to help keep the moisture in. Finally, once the baggies were on he put two thick white socks on each of her feet to help keep them warm. He was done, she was now ready to receive her punishment, and he would relish every second of it. Victor then picked her up and brought her down to his room.
Victor placed Marcy on the table and began removing her evening gown. She had been wearing a black bra and a black thong bikini underneath her gown; Victor was in awe of her beauty she was definitely dressed to kill tonight. Victor then began attaching each cuff to her wrists. The leather straps easily grasped her hands and would hold them in place without leaving a mark on her. Once that was done he moved down to her feet and lovingly placed them in the holes in the stocks. After locking the stocks in place around her ankles Victor moved back to the head of the table and began to turn the crank and tighten her restraints. In a few moments Marcy had been completely immobilized. With her hands held tightly above her head and her feet secured in the stocks, spread apart, her body would not be able to move at all. Victor stood back to admire his work; he couldn’t help but lose himself in her beauty all over again. He remembered why he had the crush on her in the first place. He let his hand lovingly caress her face; he wanted to feel its soft skin before it gets distorted in the throws of ticklish agony. He then put a blanket over her half naked body and turned off the light. She was going to need her rest; she was about to have the longest weekend of her life.
Saturday
Marcy began to slowly wake. She didn’t really understand why she couldn’t rub her eyes or move her legs. It was also dark so she couldn’t really see. Soon the realization of her predicament slowly began to sink in. Her arms were securely bound above her head and her feet were secured apart from each other at the foot of the table. Her heart began to race and her mind wandered as she tried to remember what happened the night before. “Porter!” She gasped as the door to the small room sprang open. The light shining behind the figure in the door masked his face so she couldn’t make out who it was.
“Ah I’m glad to see that you are awake, would you like something to eat before we start?” The voice said almost mockingly. “Who are you really and why am I tied up like this?” Marcy demanded despite her situation. “You want to know who I am, fine I’ll give you a clue.” Victor said as he turned the light on. “Think back about ten years ago, try to remember the prom and a young innocent boy who wanted nothing more than to treat you like a queen, and how did you repay him? You not only stabbed him in the back, you humiliated him to the point where he couldn’t even show his face in school anymore.” The realization of who he was hit her like a train, it was now all too clear what was going on, her sins were now coming to bear. “Victor…oh my god. Y..you look great!” She said in a futile attempt to flatter him. “Nice try but flattery seldom works on me. Though, I really must thank you, if it hadn’t been for the awful humiliation that you guys put me through I might not be as successful as I am now.” Victor then sat down and placed his hand on the edge of the blanket that was covering Marcy. “Despite my success, you still left me with some scars that are never going to heal.” Victor then clenched the blanket with his now white-knuckled fist. “Victor, what are you going to do to me, you’re not going to hurt me are you?” She whimpered. “No, no I’m not going to hurt you.” Marcy breathed a sigh of relief. “ Tell me something Marcy, are you still as ticklish as you used to be?” Marcy’s eyes nearly fell out of her head. “You’re kidding right, you’re not going to tickle me are you?” She said worriedly. “Oh yes, yes I am. I am going to explore every inch of your body. Believe me when I say that no part of your exposed anatomy will go untouched. And when I find your most ticklish spots then I’m going to mercilessly exploit them till you can’t take any more; but you will because you’ll have no choice. Simply put, I am going to tickle you into absolute hysterics over the next two days and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.” As he spoke Victor slowly inched his face toward Marcy’s until his nose was mere centimeters from hers. “Go ahead then, I’m not ticklish anymore. You’re wasting your time.” She said while turning her head from Victor. “Let me go and I MIGHT forget that you’ve kidnapped me!” She offered in one last pitiful attempt to get out of her situation. “Nice try, somehow I doubt you’re being entirely truthful with me. Now let’s get down to business shall we?” Victor said as he ripped the blanket off of Marcy’s body exposing it yet again for Victor’s hungry eyes. After setting the blanket on the floor, Victor then walked over to Marcy’s torso with a pair of scissors and promptly snipped her bra off. Marcy protested in vain, she was also turning red with embarrassment; Victor found that to be very amusing.
He walked out of the room for a moment and came back with a small black bag that he set down next to the wall. Marcy could only guess what was in the bag, she didn’t really want to know, she just wanted to be let go so she could go home, but she can’t, she is trapped with no avenues of escape by a deranged psycho that wants to tickle torture her for god knows how long. While she was reflecting on her situation everything had suddenly gone dark again, but it wasn’t the lights, Victor had just blindfolded her. The black cloth over her eyes allowed no light to grace her vision. Then she heard him moving toward the head of the table, she didn’t know why. Though her question was quickly answered when she felt a feather slowly dance around her wrists just under the leather cuffs. It didn’t tickle too badly, it was more like an annoying itch, she could take it for now. Unfortunately for Marcy though, the feathers weren’t going to stay there. Victor then began slowly dragging the large peacock feathers lower and lower down her arms. As he progressed lower Marcy’s twitching grew in frequency and intensity until he came to the lower portion of her biceps. Marcy’s muscles then started to tense up as the feather titillated each nerve ending in her arm. Victor glanced at Marcy’s face while he danced the feathers dangerously close to her armpits. The look of determination on her face was priceless. Her mouth was clenched shut and her lips were pressed firmly together. It was clear she didn’t want to give Victor the satisfaction of laughing, but they both knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Soon she would be a cackling mess willing to do anything just to end her torture.
Victor decided to tease Marcy a little more before going in for the kill and jumped the feathers past her underarms and began weaving them over her breasts. Marcy was still able to hold back the laughter but her will was breaking and it was just a matter of time. Every swipe of those awful instruments of torture further weakened Marcy’s will as they caressed her vulnerable breasts. She was near the breaking point, and Victor knew it.
Victor then started to criss-cross the feathers over Marcy’s firm and toned belly. The giggles began to pour out as each stroke made contact with her sensitive flesh. The torment was taking its toll on her. Her body glistened in the light with beads of sweat erupting all over her body. The feathers ended up soaking up some of the sweat causing them to cool in the air and, in essence, shock Marcy with each stroke. Then just when she was about to break and let loose with laughter the tickling ceased. Perhaps he had given up; it seemed like he had been tickling her for hours now, maybe her trick was successful. Just then as quickly as her hope came it left as the quill end of the feathers began to slowly scratch down her arms. This was much worse; it took all the strength she had left not to laugh. The quills followed the same path as their predecessors; dragging agonizing lines up and down the length of Marcy’s straining arms. Only this time when Victor hit that patch of skin just above the underarm with the quills it was all she could take. “Nooooo. Not there pleeeease! Hahahahaha.” She squealed as Victor tormented her arms. The laughter was music to his ears, he had hoped that she would have lasted longer but this means she is much more ticklish than he thought. She shook her head side to side in a vain attempt to dismiss the feelings in her arms. Victor then decided to quit using the feathers and instead he started to scribble his fingers in her underarms.
“Ahhhhhahahahahaha nononono not there please!!!!” She screamed through long bouts of laughter. Her body rocked left and right trying to escape his fingers. Victor found this to be a bit annoying so he climbed up on the table and straddled Marcy’s pelvis. This further restricted her movement. She could only shake her head as she waited for the tickling to resume. Victor slowly and cruelly brought his fingers toward her armpits. The waiting was almost as maddening as the actual tickling. She tried listening for any sign of movement, but she couldn’t hear anything. Victor was still sitting on her, but he seemingly wasn’t doing anything. Just as she relaxed and sighed with relief Victor’s fingers came crashing back into Marcy’s armpits. This time they fluttered more furiously. Her insane laughter bounced off of the walls, and Victor savored each second of it.
Victor then decided to switch tactics on her underarms. Instead of tickling both underarms he used one hand to restrain one of her arms at the elbow as he scraped the sensitive flesh of her underarm with his free hand. This method wrenched renewed agonizing laughter from Marcy. At one point Victor took his pointer finger and slowly dragged it up and down, left and right, and even in little spirals in her hyper sensitive hollows. All Marcy could do was submit to the intense, torturous feelings coursing through her body. Victor then began his torture on Marcy’s other, neglected, armpit. It elicited the same effect from her distraught body. Cackling guffaws echoed throughout the room from Marcy’s overtaxed lungs. Had it not been for the soundproofing, her laughter would have surely caught someone’s attention. Although Victor knew it had only been a half-hour since he had started Marcy’s punishment, to Marcy it seemed as if time itself abandoned her to this hellish fate.
Finally, after about an hour of torment Victor finally let up. Large pools of sweat ran down Marcy’s body collecting on the table. Victor stepped off of the table and started to dig around in his bag. “Would you like some water?” Marcy felt a straw make contact with her lips, in her state of mind she was in no condition to refuse anything. So she sipped large amounts of water to help replenish her fluids. “Thank you.” She said sheepishly, happy that she was getting a break though afraid that the tickling will start up any moment. “No problem.” Victor said as he set the bottle on the floor. “Well breaks over time to get started again.” Before Marcy could even protest she felt Victor’s hands grasp her ribs. Each finger began expertly squeezing her ribs. Not to the point of pain, but with just enough pressure to cause the desired result. The room filled with renewed gales of laughter as Victor played Marcy’s ribs like a piano. Marcy could barely breathe it tickled so badly. She tried to speak but between the laughter and how little oxygen she was getting she found that all that came out were broken words and unintelligible utterings. But her laughter continued unabated.
Victor noticed that she was tiring quicker and let up on her ribs for a while, he descended his hands down to her belly and flanks. The scream Marcy let out when Victor lightly scratched the area just above her hips was enough to shatter glass. The sensations were simply driving her into insanity, she couldn’t even think about anything except how awfully she was being tickled right now. The past and future didn’t even exist to her overly taxed mind, just the present time.
Victor looked at his watch and noticed that he had been tickling Marcy for over three hours now. Her body lay limp and lifeless on the table; she was drifting in and out of consciousness as well. He decided to let her rest for now, he got up off of Marcy’s sweaty body and covered her back in the blanket. He then shut off the lights and went upstairs to make some food for the both of them.
While in the darkness Marcy’s cognitive thoughts started to return to her, her heart rate and breathing were beginning to calm down, and she became aware that although it was a torturous experience it also left her feeling pretty good. The extended tickling caused her body to release large amounts of endorphins into her bloodstream. She can barely feel the aches in her muscles and she feels like she could go and run a marathon. She also noticed that another part of her body became excited from all the action. She did not want Victor to know about this and hoped he wouldn’t find out. If he did then there is no telling what he would do, besides he was really cute; she most definitely would have dated him now, if only she hadn’t done what she did ten years ago. Though now is not the time for hindsight, she was very hungry and had to use the facilities.
During her contemplation’s Marcy heard the door open and footsteps. “Did we sleep well?” Victor asked with mock concern. “Victor please, I’ve learned my lesson please let me go. I won’t tell anyone I promise.” Marcy pleaded. Little did she know that part of Victor still yearned to care for her, part of him wanted to let her go and hold her in his arms and comfort her. Much to Marcy’s dismay Victor’s more dominant feelings were more vengeful and angry than anything else. He swallowed his feelings for Marcy and removed the blanket from her near naked body.
The cool air struck Marcy’s skin like a hammer, she nearly jumped out of her skin it was so cold. “Wait!” Marcy demanded. “I really have to go to the bathroom. If you tickle me again you will have a big mess on your hands.” She knew she had a point, but would Victor recognize it or even care. She waited for a moment when suddenly, her blindfold was removed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light bearing down on her. Once they focused she noticed Victor attaching handcuffs to her right wrist. “What are you doing?” She asked inquisitively. “I am releasing you so you can use the bathroom. For both our safety you are going to be handcuffed and shackled. I wouldn’t want you running from me while we still have more business to attend to.” He said while releasing her from the leather straps and cuffing her hands together in front of her. He then attached the shackles to her still socked feet. Marcy thought it was odd that she was wearing socks as she had not been wearing them the night before. Though she didn’t mind they kept her feet nice and warm.
Victor then led Marcy to a room still in the basement. He opened the door and turned on the light. “Just so you know, there are no windows so there is no other way out, there is no lock on the door so if I think that you are stalling then I will come in whether your decent or not, and this room is also soundproof so screaming for help will not do any good. Do you understand?” She nodded and proceeded with her business.
She had nothing but her thoughts and the soft hum of the fan to comfort her distraught mind. She couldn't take another bout of tickling it would surely drive her insane. Her only hope was to keep begging and pleading for mercy. Not exactly her first choice but she would never make it out of the house while she was cuffed and shackled. It seemed hopeless.
She finished up and exited the bathroom. “I’m hungry, didn’t you offer me food earlier today.” Her seductive voice nearly melted Victor’s heart. “Um yeah, all I can really offer you is a sandwich though. I don’t exactly keep the house stocked with food.” She smiled and nodded her head in approval. “I’m afraid that you’re going to have to go back in the room while I prepare the sandwiches.” He said while nearly stumbling over some box’s. Marcy tried to protest when he grabbed the chain on her handcuffs and led her back into the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the food.” He closed and locked the door and proceeded upstairs to the kitchen.
While she was left alone Marcy slowly became aware that Victor still cared for her. Even after what she did to him ten years ago, he stilled cared. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. She was somewhat flattered despite the fact that he kidnapped her and is tickle torturing her. It could’ve been worse; most psychos would have been doing much more horrible things to her. One thing she wondered about was why was he tickling her?
After a few more minutes Victor barged in carrying two plates of sandwiches and juice. “I hope that you like PB and J.” He set the tray on the table and handed her a glass. “Oh one more thing.” Victor darted back out of the room and went upstairs. Before she knew it he was back carrying a robe. “Here, I thought you might like this while you ate.” He offered it to her without realizing that she couldn’t put it on while she was handcuffed. She shot a glance of disapproval at him and held up her restrained hands. “Oops, sorry about that.” He grabbed his keys and quickly took off the handcuffs. “There you go.” He said while helping her into the robe. “Thanks, I was a bit cold.” He nodded in acknowledgement.
While they ate there was an awkward silence in the room. Victor never really made eye contact with her. He just looked about the room avoiding his captives gaze. Marcy on the other hand was staring right at Victor. She had so many questions to ask, but she didn’t want to enrage him. She still wasn’t quite sure about his state of mind. After she finished the last bite of her sandwich she decided to break the silence.
“So why are you tickling me Victor?” His eyes suddenly met hers and he just smiled. “I think I should ask why do you like to be tickled.” Marcy lowered her head in shame. He had noticed that she had been aroused by her recent experience. “I thought so, well to answer your question. It has always been a fantasy of mine. Tying up a beautiful girl and sending her body and mind through the throws of hysteria; it just fascinates me. While you were always the focus of my fantasies, you were not the first girl I ever tied up and tickled. The babysitter I had when I was ten was my first. I think she liked it too, as she always played Cowboys and Indians with me. She always played the Indian and let me tie her up. She had the softest and most ticklish feet. Almost the most ticklish I have ever seen. Though I am willing to bet yours are near the top.” He smiled as she looked down and noticed she was still sock footed. “Well you’ve eaten and I’d say that this conversation has reached its end. Now hop back up on the table so we can get started again.” His demeanor suddenly changed, he was now serious and determined. Marcy debated what she should do. She was still shackled so there was no hope of running. He walked toward her while she stared blankly at him. “Please don’t tickle me anymore, I can’t take it.” Her eyes were beginning to well up with tears. Victor walked behind her and stripped her of the robe. “Please don’t do this.” She begged, but he was unwavering and picked her up and gently lay her on the table. Her pleading fell upon deaf ears. He grabbed her by both hands as she started to squirm. He forcefully pulled them over her head and began strapping her arms down again. He made quick work of her arms, as he was too strong for her to fight. He then moved down to her legs which she began kicking. The chain from the shackles ended up striking Victor square in the jaw causing Victor to fall backwards and hit the wall. “I suggest you calm yourself or you will just make things worse.” He groaned while rubbing his jaw.
Marcy didn’t want to do anything further to anger him so she complied and lowered her legs. Victor then released her shackles and placed each leg in the appropriate sockets. He then lowered the top half of the stocks and locked them in place. Then he walked back toward the head of the table and began to turn the crank. Marcys arms then tightened overhead and once again completely immobilized her. Once she was tightened enough Victor left the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He said, still nursing his jaw.
Once Victor returned he brandished two things. An ice pack for his jaw and a pair of scissors. Marcy’s mind raced with thoughts of what he was going to do with the scissors. “For your little love-tap earlier you are going to lose something.” He motioned the scissors toward one of Marcy’s breasts and then traced her body down towards her hips. She shut her eyes preparing for the worst. With a few quick snips Marcy’s panties fell apart. She opened her eyes in horror as she watched her panties fall away exposing her now naked womanhood. “Hey!” She yelled in disapproval. Marcy was now completely naked save for the socks that still remained bound to her feet.
Victor bent down close to Marcy’s face and whispered “Now we can have some real fun.” As he stood upright he looked at Marcy’s Saucer-like eyes and smiled. He then grabbed his little black bag and began rummaging through it. Then, much to Marcy’s horror, he pulled out an electric toothbrush. Its long neck brandished a small round head, which bore its bristles. “Enough juice to last two hours.” He goaded as he walked toward Marcy’s vulnerable body.
Victor decided that since he had free access to Marcy’s breasts he would take advantage of that. He then climbed on top of Marcy, straddling her, and stared at her flawless breasts. Each breast was firm and yet soft. Her nipples spoke volumes to Victor; they were very erect and most likely very sensitive. He decided that he would save the best for last and then pushed the “ON” button on the toothbrush.
Marcy just whimpered as Victor slowly brought the bristles into contact with the skin just under her right breast. The effect of the bristles were like electric shocks, they quickly shattered Marcy’s will and immediately caused her to shriek with laughter. “Nooooo please, stop!’ As the tickling continued each garbled sentence was punctuated with soft moans and whispered pleas. Victor slowly drew the toothbrush in concentric circles around the outside of her breast and slowly worked his way toward her nipple. “I can tell you like this.” He said, somewhat futilely as she could barely hear him.
Victor’s touch with the toothbrush was gentle and his demeanor resolute. His technique was that of an expert because Marcy was, simply put, a mess. Her hair was plastered to her scalp and face; her body ached in more ways than she thought possible. Her laughter continued to echo off of the walls and throughout Victor’s mind. Finally Victor’s unwavering path brought him to his desired target. He then grasped her breast with his hand and began his work. The sensations turned Marcy’s laughter down to moans and giggles. “Don’t stop.” She gasped. Victor had no intention of stopping; nor did he have any intentions of giving her the release she desired.
Marcy’s hips began to passionately grind under Victor in a desperate search for anything that might grant her release. Her moans began to escalate toward her inevitable climax. The grinding was becoming faster and more pronounced and finally as her muscles began to tighten and her body started to shudder with anticipation; Victor stopped.
He climbed off of her glistening body and wiped the hair out of her face. “Sorry hon, but I’m afraid you’re not going to get off that easily.” He said with a hint of sarcasm. Marcy’s beguilement ended quickly as she realized why he stopped. “Please Victor, let me cum. You can tickle me all you want afterwards. I just need release.” Victor had thoroughly crushed her will; she would have done anything he asked just for release. “I can tickle you all I want now, which is what I am going to do.” Upon ending his sentence he began a furious assault on Marcy’s body. His fingers expertly darted to different areas on Marcy’s body to keep her from getting used to the sensations. He also made sure to avoid any arousing areas like her breasts and pelvic area. For two hours Victor teased, tortured, and tormented Marcy by bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then yanking her back down by tickling her. Then when he felt she truly had enough he stopped. “I think you’ve earned a break now. I will give you an hour to rest and take care of any business you need to.” He said while undoing the cuffs.
Marcy barely moved for ten minutes while she regained her strength. Victor had bound her exactly like he had earlier that day with handcuffs and shackles. He then left her in the room while he went to prepare dinner. Marcy’s will was broken and thus had lost any hope for escape. She just sat on the edge of the table that held her and waited. She wanted to give herself what Victor had denied her for so long, but she was too afraid that there would be consequences if she did so she just put on the robe he had given her earlier and waited.
Finally, Victor returned with food. He set the tray down on the table and handed Marcy her plate. He had prepared a salad and some pasta for their dinner. Marcy ate so ravenously that you would think she hadn’t eaten for weeks. She quickly downed her drink and let out a muffled belch. “You ate that pretty fast, I must be a good cook.” He said smugly. She just smiled at him and shuffled out of the room to use the bathroom. While she was doing her business Victor cleaned up the dishes and brought them upstairs. While upstairs he began to prepare his next torture for Marcy.
When he came back downstairs Victor noticed that Marcy had been rubbing her shoulders. “A little sore huh?” He asked. “Yea, being stretched like that for so long will put a few knots in your back.” Victor then led Marcy back into the room and removed her robe. “Lay face down, let’s see if I can’t get those knots out.” Marcy was shocked, but not about to question him so she complied. She laid face down as Victor darted out of the room. He came back with a pillow in his hands, which he gave to Marcy. She placed it under herself as Victor climbed up on the table. He straddled her again and began firmly rubbing her shoulders. Victor’s hands were almost magical; he used a gentle grip yet had a firm touch. Within a few minutes Marcy had completely relaxed as Victor softly rubbed her back from top to bottom. Marcy even let out a few giggles as he caressed her hips and flanks. Victor then finished the massage off by softly tracing his fingers through her hair and scalp. Marcy felt so good that she had forgotten that she was a kidnap victim.
Unfortunately for Marcy all good things must come to an end, and this was no different. Victor hopped up off of Marcy and bade her to turn over. She complied with little resistance and Victor immobilized her one more time.
“I’ll be right back.” He said as he darted out of the room and up the stairs. After a bit of commotion Victor returned carrying a small stack of paper cups, a roll of tape, and a large metal bowl. “Now we’re going to have some fun.” He said while setting the tray down. Marcy had no idea what he had in mind; not that it mattered she couldn’t go anywhere.
Victor began taping the mouths of cups to different areas on her body. Before long Marcy had a cup on each breast, two on her tummy, two on each thigh, and one right in the center of her chest just below the sternum. Oddly, the bottoms of each cup had been cut off. Before Marcy could ask anything Victor picked up the large metal bowl and reached for its contents. He then pulled out an ice cube and dropped it in one of the cups on her tummy. “EEEK! That’s cold!” She said as Victor dropped ice cubes in each one of the cups on her body.
Once all the cups had a few ice cubes each in them Victor stood back in amusement as Marcy thrashed in her own limited way. “Oh my God! Victor please, please, o please take them out. I can’t stand it!” She said in a frantic voice. Despite the fact that the ice was numbing the different areas of her body, and making her nipples very rigid and erect, its sensations were almost as bad as the tickling.
After a while of squirming from the ice cubes Victor walked over to her upper body and, without warning began to tickle her armpits. She shrieked and laughed loudly. This new sensation was exacting a heavy toll on her sanity; her mind had never had to cope with the extreme cold of the ice cubes and the sensory overload of the tickling. The two sensations fought for supremacy within her fragile psyche. Marcy’s voice began to grow hoarse from the shrieking and laughing and soon she was completely unable to say anything at all. Just silent, unending, laughter.
Victor continued his tickle assault on her armpits until all the ice cubes had fully melted in their cups. He then began removing the cups; the water inside rushed down Marcy’s distraught body, sometimes even tickling her.
Once he was finished removing the cups and drying up the large puddles of water Victor noticed that Marcy had passed out. Her hours of torment had taken its toll on her and her body just finally shut down. So he cleaned up his things, threw a blanket over her and turned out the lights. She still had another long day ahead of her tomorrow.
Sunday
Marcy awoke to find herself untied; yet still locked in Victor’s basement. She sat on the table waiting for her tormentor to come back. She found herself pondering her predicament. She was surely going to be tortured more, yet it didn’t bother her. She almost looked forward to it. As she came to that realization her common sense jumped into play reminding her that she has been kidnapped, held against her will, and sexually assaulted. Even with that thought she still couldn’t help but wonder what wonderful err… horrible torments Victor had in store for her today. She paced about her domicile in anticipation. She walked in circles around the table; her feet still clad in socks. Marcy quickly came to a halt and noticed that the white socks Victor had originally put her in were a bit different. The pair she was currently wearing were a little thicker and had a blue strip at the toes like some socks have. If her memory served correctly; the socks she wore the past two days didn’t have that stripe. She thought that it was a bit odd that he even kept socks on her feet since the rest of her body was fully exposed. Oh well, she thought to herself, even if there was a significance to it there wasn’t much she could do about it.
After a few more moments of pacing Victor finally opened the door. “I see you’re up.” He said carrying two plates of food in his hands. “I thought you might like some breakfast on this lovely morning.” He then placed one plate on the table. “So what’s on the menu this morning?” She asked coyly. Despite it’s obviousness Victor listed the delicacies that he had prepared that morning. “Well to start off, I thought you might like some of my famous scrambled eggs flavored with a dash of salt. To compliment the eggs I prepared two exquisite slices of toast with a rasberry jam lovingly spread over each slice. And then, located next to the toast are three slices of the most succulent bacon you’ll ever taste. Finally, to round out our meal a tall glass of orange juice chock full of vitamin C.”
(Clapping) “That was wonderful,” she said while giggling. “I’m surprised you didn’t become a chef or something like that.” Victor stood up and bowed for his audience. “Thank you, thank you. Well I was thinking of getting a job in the culinary arts, but my tendency to pick my nose and not wash my hands kept me out of the school.” Marcy let out a little chortle from his joke. Over the next half-hour the two of them became friends, reminiscing about old times and people long forgotten.
Finally, Victor had to break up their little chat. “Well are you ready for more torment?” He said rather bluntly. Marcy removed her robe, and jumped up on the table and extended her arms and legs out so he would have an easy time restraining her. Victor was a little more than shocked and confused. He expected more whining and pleading, as it turns out she is starting to like her torture. “Well I see you’ve become an enlightened individual.” Victor said while binding her hands to the ropes. “Yeah, its kind of weird. This is actually a little fun.” She said in a bubbly way. Victor just smirked at her statement. “Yeah, fun huh? We’ll see what you think of it after today. Up until now I have been ignoring a certain part of your truly ticklish body. I guess you could say that I was saving the best for last.” What he was referring to finally dawned on Marcy. Her feet, by far the most ticklish part of her body, she couldn’t bear to even have them touched. She thought about how her older cousin used to pin her legs to the ground while he would mercilessly tickle her feet. Suddenly her mouth was dry, her heart was racing, and her body was starting to sweat. She was barely able to hold on to her sanity from the other torture she endured, this just might drive her insane.
Victor stood at the foot of the table with an evil grin painted across his face. “Um, why don’t you just keep tickling my body. I’ll tell you where it tickles the most.” Her pleas and bargains fell upon deaf ears. “I already know where you are most ticklish, your feet; and I have waited for this day for a long time. In high school I would have moved heaven and earth just to touch your soft peds, now I have them wiggling helplessly in front of me. Nothing you can say or do will deter me from ruthlessly scratching my fingers along your soft arches.” He said almost sadistically. His stern and proud demeanor was almost a turn on for Marcy, she loved men who had power and used it. “Oh, I should let you know. Every night you have passed out I have been doing a little….maintenance on your feet.” Marcy’s brow sunk in confusion. “You see I have been using a pumice stone on the thick parts of your feet. Then I have used a moisturizer to help keep them soft. I’m afraid that you’ll find your feet are quite a bit more ticklish than they have ever been.” Marcy’s jaw dropped, her mind couldn’t grasp how sensitive her feet were now. It all had made sense now, the different socks and the plastic baggies. She thought that was a bit odd. All she could do is wait for it to start yet she wished it would end.
Victor laid a few tools about the table. An electric toothbrush, some Q-tips, a plastic fork, his peppermint moisturizing crème, and some more ice cubes. He then began his savory task of removing the socks from his captive’s feet. He started with her right foot. He grasped it from under the heel and began pulling the sock off of her ankles. Slowly it began exposing her warm soles to the cool air. Her feet were so sensitive she could feel it through the baggy. Victor kept pulling at the sock; slowly it exposed more and more of her arch to his hungry eyes. Finally the sock came free revealing five perfect digits wiggling in their freedom. Victor nearly ripped his pants he was so aroused. He then viciously tore the baggy from her helpless sole fully exposing it to the cool air. He couldn’t help himself he had to see how well his nightly efforts paid off. He drew a stiff finger from heel to toe on her sole. Marcy’s reaction was a spectacle that could only be seen to be fully appreciated; were she positioned correctly she would have gnawed her own feet off just to escape the neurochemical electrocution she was being forced to endure.
Needless to say Victor was more than pleased with her reaction and wasted no time in releasing her left foot from its bondage of cotton and flaccid plastic. Before him lay his Holy Grail. Two of the most ticklish feet to ever walk this earth on the girl that he has loved since he first noticed girls. So without further delay Victor began his assault. He started by grasping her left foot by its toes and pulling them back so he could explore her sole without the folly of wrinkles or curled toes. Marcy was howling and screaming while struggling with every bit of strength in her body; but in the end all she could really do was laugh. No other feeling could possibly make her ignore the impulses shooting from her feet to her brain. They took precedence over every thought and feeling she was capable of experiencing.
After about ten minutes of tickling her left foot Victor switched to her right foot and began anew. Her renewed howling and laughing started to concern Victor. After all he didn’t want to hurt her. She was also coughing very badly and gasping for air like she was being choked. So as quickly as he had started he relented on her foot and walked to the head of the table to check on his guinea pig. Her hair plastered her reddened face. Tears were streaming from her eyes. He brought a cup to her mouth and gave her some water to help with her dry throat. The thought of just letting her go did cross his mind. After all he wasn’t an ogre; she had surely paid her penance for what she had done to him. “I’m not sure I should keep this up.” He said solemnly. “I think that I am actually hurting you now.” He then reached out to untie her hands when she grabbed his wrist “NO, don’t stop now! Last night you teased me and didn’t let me come, well I’ll be damned if that is going to happen again!” She said with what little strength she could muster. Victor was taken aback by this sudden turn of events. She wanted him to continue tickling her feet. “Just don’t tickle my feet for an hour straight, ok!” She said hoarsely. He nodded in acknowledgement, then went back to the foot of the table. The musk from her womanhood filled the air. He knew then that she wasn’t kidding. Marcy watched as he stood by her feet scratching his head over something. He quickly made his decision, whatever it was, and began his arduous task. All Marcy could hear was the hum of what sounded like a vibrator. She was wrong; it was a toothbrush, an electric toothbrush which soon came into contact with one of her big toes. The feeling was simply unbearable. Her head thrashed from side to side as Victor slowly and methodically “cleaned” each one of Marcy’s toes. He did the tips, the tops, the bottoms, and much to Marcy’s torment in-between each toe. He stopped and let her rest before moving on and doing the same thing to her other foot.
When he was done “cleaning” Marcy’s toes, Victor then pulled out some shoe- strings and began binding Marcy’s toes to the rings on top of the stocks. Marcy was laughing just from having the strings pulled between her toes. Once he was finished Marcy’s toes were completely immobile, thereby also immobilizing her feet. He then started what turned out to be the most tortuous of tortures. Victor applied gobs of the moisturizer to her feet making them very slippery. Then he stood at her feet, with both hands resting in front of each foot, and then just started scratching both her arches. Marcy wasn’t even able to laugh. He mouth was agape, yet no sounds came out save a few gasps for air. Because of how extreme it was Victor had to give Marcy numerous breaks, but in the end he tickled her like that for two hours. He was amazed that she was still conscious. His heart then grew with pity so he untied her toes and began randomly using his other tools of the trade on her soft soles.
As the day surged forward for Victor, time seemed to pass quickly, for Marcy it was exactly the opposite, she noticed each excruciating second pass by. Victor had used so many implements on her sensitive soles, yet none compared to his fingers. Every now and then Victor would drop whatever weapon he was using and would just furiously scribble his fingers on her feet. It was excruciating for her, yet whenever he let up with his fingers she could feel herself become more moist than she had been previously. She had no idea that tickling her feet could be so erotic. She wanted the tickling to end now, but not because it tickled. She wanted Victor, now and not later. “Victor, Victor I need you. I need you now!” She said sternly. “What do you need, water, food, or bathroom?” He said naively. “No you don’t get it. I WANT YOU!” Her demand finally hit home with Victor as it slowly dawned on him. “OH, I see, you want ME. Well far be it for me to deny the request of such a beautiful lady.” All the muscles in her body, as sore as they were, contracted at the thought of her sexual release. She watched as Victor undressed in front of her. His rock hard athletic body only further fueled her fire. She was becoming restless now, she was squirming in her bonds, she needed to hold him, to feel him. Victor realized this and began releasing her hands. She didn’t even let him untie her feet. She just pulled him up onto her body as they met in a passionate embrace. They kissed each other for a long while before he granted her the release that she craved so desperately. His excitement was more than obvious now and it seemed only to grow as they kissed. He then laid her back down and entered her. It took but mere moments for her to orgasm. It was so strong it shook the foundation of her psyche. She let out a scream so loud it had all the cats in the neighborhood going wild. But Victor wasn’t finished; he then tied her arms back up and re-entered his bound vixen. While their bodies were grinding against each other, Victor began tickling Marcy again. Similar to what he had done the night before, except he wasn’t going to hold back. Her moans and laughter were intertwined and only served to turn Victor on even more.
For the rest of the day Marcy and Victor made passionate love. Sometimes he would tickle her during sex, and other times just tickled her. Marcy not only fell in love with Victor; but she also fell in love with the new sensations that he forced upon her. At the end of the night, Victor gave Marcy her clothes back and he let her go. But she didn’t go to the cops, as one who was kidnapped would do.
The next day Marcy quit her job at the doctor’s office saying that she was moving away. A few months later Victor and Marcy were married, oddly enough for their honeymoon instead of going on a cruise or anything like that, they decided to go and stay at Victor’s old house.
The end...
Prologue
Call him Victor. He is tall, lanky, wears glasses, and he could tell you where each bathroom is located on the starship Enterprise. He was also in his senior year of high school. He and his small circle of friends were not exactly the “popular” crowd; and they accepted this as such. And if it weren’t for Victors’ more secular desires; he and his friends might have enjoyed more peaceful lives.
Victors’ problem was his insatiable desire for Marcy. You see, any other person would have seen Marcy as just another high school athlete. She stood about 5’6” with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and an athletic body, nothing special. The sight that Victor beheld was so much more. When he longingly stared at her hair, it seemed to seductively dance to him, beckoning him to run his fingers through the dark strands of silk. Looking into her eyes, was like watching two gemstones descend into a fathomless abyss, Victor often found himself drowning in them. Her body….her body was nothing less than perfect. Each curve of her body was intoxicating. Her skin, from head to toe, was as soft and supple as a newborn babies, the thought of touching it set Victors’ mind ablaze with an unquenchable inferno of lust and desire. Truly there was no other in this world or the next that was meant for him. The problem for poor Victor was that as much as he was enamored with Marcy, she did not share his sentiment…
Simply put; Marcy was more like a typical athlete. She went to parties to drink, meet cute guys, and otherwise spend her last days of high school in nothing but an alcohol induced haze. The guys she liked were other jocks, she didn’t really have boyfriends, more like friends with benefits. The current friend’s name was Jason. He was captain of the Lacrosse team; and was the proverbial thorn in Victor’s side. He cheated on Marcy often. She even cheated on him a couple times, but they both knew and didn’t care. After all, they couldn’t be expected to just date each other, there were so many other opportunities out there that were too tempting to pass up.
Victor wished that he were one of her flings, so he could show her that she didn’t need anyone else but him. He often spoke openly about this to his friends, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Jason. Jason, and his partners in crime known as the Lacrosse team, used this as an excuse to make Victor’s and his friends’ lives a living hell. From stuffing them in lockers and knocking down books in the hallway, Jason and his friends were unrelenting in their assault. Soon Victor’s friends stopped hanging out with him just to end the constant torment. He ended up alone, but undeterred by his tormenters.
The senior prom was coming up soon; Victor was working up the courage to ask Marcy out to the prom. He had heard that Jason wasn’t going to the prom so he might have a chance.
It was a week before the prom and Victor had already made the preparations for his date. The only obstacle now was to ask Marcy if she would go. Victor knew exactly when he was going to ask her. Marcy was in his last period study hall. She had track practice after school; so he knew she wouldn’t be leaving early like the other seniors.
When last period came, Victor quickly sped to his classroom and took his seat; which was to the back and left of Marcys’. Marcy was already seated reading one of her anatomy textbooks. Like most of the other athletes in her school, she was studying to become a physical therapist so anatomy was a required course. Victor thought that she was so beautiful when he looked at her. The way that the light from outside shone in caused an almost angelic aura around Marcy. It took Victor most of the class period to build up the courage to ask her. During class he was noticeably uncomfortable, he was fidgeting in his chair and he even bit the eraser out of his pencil. Victor finally rose from his seat a few minutes before the end of class. “It’s now or never” Victor thought to himself.
“Umm, Marcy? Would you p..please do me the honor of being m..my date for the prom next week?” Each second noticeably passed, as time seemed to halt while he waited for an answer. Marcy looked up at Victor’s face; it was obvious he was nervous cause he was perspiring heavily. She said, “Well no one else has asked me so, ok.” Victor nearly fell down, every part of his body told him it was too good to be true, girls like her don’t go to proms with guys like me, Victor thought to himself. As his mind replayed her words over and over again, he could find no signs of sarcasm. His excitement grew; it started to set in; she actually said yes! “Great, I’ll pick you up at six o’clock on the dot ok.” She nodded in approval and went back to reading her book.
Friday’s arrival could not have come any slower for poor Victor. His mind was a turbulent river of thought and fantasy colliding in a veritable hurricane of anticipation.
His excitement caused him to actually feel each second agonizingly pass by; but he just couldn’t take his mind off of her.
When Friday finally came, Victor was prepared to dazzle and amaze. He wore a jet-black tuxedo with matching bow tie. He was even running a sticky brush over his outfit to get all the lint and cat hairs that had collected on it. He even bought new socks and underwear to complete his almost perfect attire.
Victor knew that Marcy’s favorite color was purple so he searched everywhere he could until he found a purple corsage. When Victor found what he was looking for at a florist he knew it, as it stood out among the rest. It was a soft violate orchid with a white ribbon wrapped around a delicate white silk cloth that adorned its stem. Somehow the pin even added a touch of metallic beauty to the flower. It was perfect, perfect for Marcy.
While he was putting the finishing touches on his newly shorn hair he heard a car horn blow outside. “The limo is here!” Victor had saved quite a bit of money from his job at the local restaurant. He had few expenses so he was able to save quite a bit. He used most of it on his tux, and had just enough to rent a limousine for the night. He bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen to get the corsage out of the refrigerator; and like a black blur was out the door and on his way to his beloved’s house.
When he arrived at Marcy’s house he calmly walked up the granite sidewalk toward her front door. Her lawn was a lush green, speckled with the occasional spot of yellow. The garden along the sidewalk was filled with robust bushes and delicate roses. It was clear that great care was taken with each flower. When Victor reached the steps, he brought the corsage in front of him and stared at it, as if to relieve his anxiety. He ascended the steps and rang the doorbell. A lump grew in his throat the size of a softball. After a few moments he could hear footsteps come to the door; it was the sound of bare feet smacking on tile. When the door opened he was greeted by a tall woman, in her late thirties who was the spitting image of Marcy, albeit an older one. “You must be Victor, come on in.” She exclaimed. He cleared his throat and entered the house. “Marcy is upstairs finishing up, she will be down in a minute.” She said absently while walking away. “Please make yourself comfortable while she finishes up.” As she motioned to the couch. As he walked through the short hallway between the front door and the living room Victor admired the many pictures that decorated the walls. Mostly pictures from family outings and formal events with the occasional school photo. There were several of Marcy, showing her different pictures through each grade. Even in her youth she maintained that special beauty that intoxicated Victor. He then continued into the living room where he saw Marcy’s mother straightening up while her father sat reclining in a chair reading the newspaper. Victor introduced himself to the both of them before sitting on the couch across from Marcy’s father.
After about five minutes of awkward silence, Marcy finally came down the stairs and presented herself to Victor and her parents. Victor stood and turned and was breathless when his eyes caught site of Marcy. She wore a dark purple satin evening gown that seemed to conform to each curve of her body. Victor’s eyes were then drawn down as he noticed she was not wearing any shoes. Clad in just flesh colored stockings, she held her shoes in her hands. That is what Victor was hoping he would see tonight. The one thing that he never told anybody, not even his friends or family was that he loved feet. More specifically he loved tickling feet. He kept this a secret because if anyone at school had found out he would have never been able to show his face in public again.
He quickly made eye contact with her so as not to arouse any suspicion of his secret desire. “Never have I gazed upon something so beautiful.” He said as his heart pounded. Marcy blushed a little and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you!” Her father peeked around his newspaper briefly and then went back to reading. Victor then presented Marcy with the corsage. He took great care in pinning it to her right shoulder strap. When finished he took a step back to admire his date. “Ok you two have fun and don’t stay out too late.” She said as she walked them to the door. Victor thought it was odd that her mother didn’t want to take pictures, perhaps they just weren’t the types to gush over things. As Marcy put her shoes on Victor said “Is something wrong, it seemed a bit tense in there?” She looked at him almost shocked at the question “Don’t worry about it that’s just how my parents are.” She said as she finished with her shoes. They then made their way to the limousine.
Inside the limousine Victor had placed himself next to Marcy, but when he sat down she moved away from him closer to the window. Victor didn’t know how to take this. She wasn’t even looking at him; she just stared out the window as if she were ignoring him. “So you excited tonight?” His voice was filled with hope as he spoke. She looked at him and smiled “yep.” And then turned back toward the window. Victor couldn’t help but feel a little ignored. “You look very pretty tonight, I really like your dress.” He said, undeterred by her sudden lack of personality. She turned again and smiled “thanks.” And again stared out the window. He didn’t know why but something was wrong.
After a few moments of silence Marcy kicked off her shoes and placed her legs up on the seat of the limousine. Her soles were staring right at Victor. His heart raced as he carefully studied each curve of her foot; he adoringly gazed at each perfectly placed toe. He could tell she took very good care of them, there was not a callus or blister on either of her feet. He just had to know one thing, was she ticklish. During the ride he played scenarios out in his head trying to find a good reason to tickle her feet without looking childish or perverted. She hadn’t even noticed him blatantly staring at her feet. How could she, her eyes were fixated on the passing trees and houses outside the limo. Her eyes were glued to the window like a child’s’ eyes glued to a television set. Nothing short of the car coming to a sudden halt would have pulled her attention from the window. This somewhat angered him, he had spent so much time and money trying to do something special for her, and she just ignored him. Slowly a little flame grew inside Victor, the more he thought, the bigger it got. Until eventually it reached its breaking point, he reached out and dragged a finger down the sole of her left foot. Marcy let out a yelp and pulled her feet up under her to protect herself. She looked at him with a mischievous grin. “Hey, don’t do that!” She said as she rubbed her feet. “What’s the matter, ticklish?” He said with a hint of arrogance. “No, you just surprised me, that’s all.” Victor didn’t believe a word she said. She was ticklish and he knew it. Victor wanted to just grab her ankles and walk his fingers over her feet but he didn’t want to anger her anymore so he just sat and fantasized about what it would be like.
As the limo arrived at the school, Victor peered out the window. He saw a few students gathered about the main entrance. He couldn’t help but feel a bit regal. The limo pulled up to the front steps that lead to the main entrance. Victor was the first to exit the limo, and afterward he helped Marcy out and led her into the school.
When they arrived in the gymnasium he quickly surveyed his surroundings. People were scattered throughout the gym. All of the tables were draped in blue and white displaying the school colors; and each were quaintly adorned with a floral centerpiece. The DJ had set up on the stage facing the dance floor, he was playing various 80’s dance hits. Victor eyed the refreshment table, it was littered with a bevy of snacks and drinks; his mouth watered at the thought of food, he hadn’t eaten all day.
“Do you want a drink?” Victor shouted at Marcy. “Sure.” She yelled back. Victor proceeded to run a gamut of aimless bodies in motion trying to get to the refreshment table; he bumped into a rather large fellow wearing an awful colored blue pastel tuxedo. Victor then realized while looking back that it was Jason, he decided to come to the prom after all. Victor put this troubling thought out of his mind, after all Marcy was HIS date tonight.
After a few minutes of searching while trying not to spill the drinks, Victor spied Marcy standing across the other end of the dance floor, and as he walked toward her he realized she wasn’t by herself. She was holding hands with someone. As he got closer and the faceless hordes’ parted the way, he found out who that hand belonged to. It was Jason. Victor stopped in his tracks and as if in unison, so did his heart. His face turned a pale white and his knees started to buckle. He felt sick to his stomach. He had been betrayed.
Jason parted with Marcy; he slowly walked towards the now broken boy. “What’s the matter dork, night not going as planned?” Jason said mockingly. Before Victor could respond he realized that he was just surrounded by guys all dressed in tuxedos. Looking upon each face, he noticed that they were Jason’s friends on the Lacrosse team. Victor spun around looking for some measure of escape, but alas there was none.
Jason got up close, right in Victor’s face. His breath stinking of tequila. “I am sick and tired of you stalking Marcy!” He yelled. “So tonight we are going to teach you a lesson.” Jason turned to remove his coat; and as he came back around he caught Victor off guard and slammed his fist in Victor’s stomach. Because Victor doubled over in pain, he wasn’t able to dodge the knee that was quickly driven into his face. Victor now lay on the floor in pain and disillusioned. He wasn’t quite sure what happened, or where he was for that matter.
When the room stopped spinning he looked up and saw Marcy standing next to Jason. Her once angelic smile, now a devilish grin. “She did this.” He thought. She did this to me. Victor started to get up, but was quickly knocked down again with a blow to the back of the head. While on his back, the Lacrosse team began to strip Victor of his clothes. Before long he was left a broken and battered mess, quivering on the floor in his underwear. A crowd had gathered around, some faces were actually full of pity; but most were filled with amusement. He shut his eyes hoping that the laughter would go away just as quickly as the faces. Sadly, they did not.
Right as the crowd disbursed the chaperones of the prom helped Victor to his feet and helped to cover him up. As he walked to the door Victor bowed his head in shame and humiliation. All he could hear were the whispers and the laughter. They echoed throughout his mind. He closed his eyes and the only thing he saw was Marcy’s face smiling at him as he was beaten. That image was forever burned into his mind. Now his desire for Marcy evolved into something else. It manifested itself as something much more malevolent. Now his only goal in life was to get back at those that hurt him.
Part II
Life has many motivations that drive us to do our best. For some people its family others its love, but some people use less positive means for their motivation. For people like Victor, revenge can be just as powerful a tool as love or family. When your thoughts are all concentrating on one defining moment in your life it’s amazing what you can accomplish.
Ten years after “the incident” Victor is now a high level executive at a large marketing firm. He makes more in 6 months than most people could hope to make in their lifetime. Along with his success Victor decided that a change of appearance was in order. He got corrective surgery for his eyes so he could rid himself of his damnable glasses. He hired a personal trainer to help him with his physique; he is not nearly as scrawny as he used to be. And he can still tell you anything about the starship Enterprise. With the looks of a model and the wallet to match the world is his oyster.
Early one morning, Victor had just risen from bed; he went down to the kitchen so he could get some breakfast. He noticed today’s mail sitting on the counter; he grabbed the envelopes and started to rummage through the letters. The last letter was from his high school. He grabbed a knife and quickly sliced the letter open. It was a letter about his ten-year high school reunion. It was being held at his school in a month. A gleam sparkled in Victors’ eye. It was time to fulfill his vendetta. He quickly ran to his computer to make arrangements for his return home.
Thursday
When Victor arrived in his old town, he immediately went to his parent’s old house. When he had made his initial fortune he bought them a condo in Florida, but he kept the house. He even made a few renovations to it. Victor rarely came up this way so, with exception to a monthly housekeeper, it remained empty most of the time. When he entered the house, he immediately went down into the basement. He really didn’t have any interest in the rest of the house; just in what was in the basement.
One of the renovations that Victor had done was that he had another room added to the basement. It was a large padded room, insulated and soundproof. The room was fairly drab and boring. It was all black; the only decorations were a single light in the center of the ceiling and a large heavy table directly under it. It was no ordinary table though, at its head it brandished a heavy wooden cylinder; at each end snaked out a leather cuff attached to a chain. The cylinder had a crank on one end so it could be turned to retract the cuffs. At the foot it had a set of stocks, the inside of each foot-hole was padded so it wouldn’t hurt its captive. The stocks themselves were thick and heavy; no one would ever be able to escape them. To top it all off, above each hole were a set of silver rings so he could totally immobilize his victims’ toes by tying them back. Victor examined all points of the table, making sure that each part was still in full working order. His mouth salivated as he stared at his contraption. He waited ten years for this moment.
Fortunately the school made the RSVP list available for anyone to see, and Marcy’s name was on it. He did a little checking up on his former crush. It turns out she dropped out of college and never became a physical therapist. Instead she works as a receptionist at a doctor’s office. She never got married and is currently not seeing anyone. He even checked up on his old friend Jason. It turns out he is in jail for accidental manslaughter. Apparently he got drunk and killed somebody in a bad car wreck, this time he definitely won’t be showing up. It was perfect, she won’t have anyone to miss her, and they won’t be expecting her at work until Monday.
Friday
Victor pulled into the parking lot of his old high school. He decided to be fashionably late so he didn’t seem eager and desperate. As soon as he walked in a woman around his age greeted him and asked for his name. Judging from her overly perky demeanor, Victor deduced who she was. Sally Felcher, a serious over-achiever from his class, you name the school event; she had a hand in it somewhere. He wouldn’t be surprised if her blood was blue and white just to match the school colors. Victor gave her his name; she glanced through her clipboard and found his nametag. “I can’t seem to remember you, though the name sounds familiar!” She exclaimed while handing him his nametag. “I’ve changed a bit since high school, picture me with glasses and a little thinner. It slowly dawned on her simple mind who he was “Wow you look great, I’m happy you showed up….” She then droned on and on about town and school matters that Victor really didn’t care for. “Well as you can tell everyone is in the gym so go in and have a good time.” She said with her plastic smile. Victor put his nametag on and walked toward the gym; as he walked by she stole a few glances at him, in awe of his different appearance.
Unlike Victor, his school had not changed much since he graduated; the gymnasium looked nearly the same as it did ten years ago. The sight of it had sent a chill up his spine. This is where it had all happened. The sight of it all caused a downward spiral of emotions and melancholy thoughts that nearly paralyzed him. His muscles tensed and his teeth clenched as he remembered the way his clothing was torn from his vulnerable flesh. His knees became weak so he had to lean up against the wall for support so he wouldn’t collapse. He tried to regain his composure but when he gazed up at the lights, the room began to spin uncontrollably; and the music that once filled the air changed; it now sounded like a chorus of laughter. The laughter rang out in his ears; it was maniacal and hateful. Victor just wanted to curl into a ball and bury the trauma that weighed so heavy on him, just when he was about to turn and leave he remembered what he was there for; revenge. Suddenly he relaxed and took a few deep breaths. As he drew in each breadth the laughter seemed to change from a hurtful laugh to a more anguished and tortured laugh. This brought a sinister smile to Victors’ face; his white polished teeth gleamed as devilish thoughts raced through his traumatized mind. Victor then realized that he would get nowhere with his little plan acting like a total psychopath in front of Marcy, so he straightened himself out and went over to the bar for a little liquid courage.
Victor sat close to the bartender and ordered his usual poison from him. He then turned to scan the vast expanse that was the gymnasium for his target. His eyes were beholden to stories of regret and mediocrity. There were former athletes who were now balding and overweight squeezed ever-so tightly into their varsity jackets in a vain attempt to regain the pride and dignity they once held. Next to them were women wearing short skirts and low cut blouses in an obvious and vain attempt to land themselves in the loving arms of anyone who has made something of their lives, hoping that they might bring some sort of resolution to their otherwise empty existence. Then there were the select few that grew to be successful in their lives; Victor couldn’t understand why they came, after all if it weren’t for his little vendetta he certainly wouldn’t have come. Perhaps they came with ulterior motives similar to Victor’s. It mattered not, he had other business to attend to.
A few drinks later Victor’s eyes were drawn toward the entrance of the gym. A ravishing young lady just walked into the building, dressed in a white sequined evening gown. He knew exactly who she was. Her hair had not lost any of the luster that used to make Victor weak in the knees. Her eyes, even from across the room, still shone brightly like two perfect diamonds. Her tan skin, so soft and supple, still melted Victor’s heart. It was Marcy, she finally showed up. “Let the games begin.” He said under his breath.
For a moment Victor had forgotten all his woes and became lost in the beauty that was Marcy. Quickly though, like a devil on his shoulder, Victor’s feelings ripped him from his dream when he remembered what she had done to him ten years ago.
Marcy made her way over to some friends sitting at a table. Although his courage faltered a bit, Victor was determined and resolute. He would not let anything stand in his way. He turned to the bartender and ordered one last drink to help him relax. As Victor made his way through the crowds he couldn’t help but feel a bit of déjà vu.
Victor then had a thought; he quickly removed his nametag so Marcy wouldn’t know who he was; that way he could toy with her for a while before exacting his revenge. Marcy’s friends had gone to talk to other people so she was left alone at the table. Victor made his move “Excuse me, I’m sorry for bothering you; but I am trying to remember your name, isn’t it Mary?” Victor asked coyly. “It’s Marcy, I’m sorry but I don’t remember you did you graduate the same year?” She said while scratching her head. “Yes I did actually, but you probably won’t remember me even if I told you.” He said while sitting down next to her. Marcy suddenly became intrigued by the mystery man that just sat down next to her, perhaps it was worth her coming after all. “So if you won’t tell me your name what will I call you?” She asked playfully. Victor thought for a moment “Porter, you can call me Porter for now.” Victor said in a smug way; he always was a Mel Gibson fan. “So PORTER, what do you do for a living?” She asked while sipping a martini. Victor then wove an extravagant tale of his rise to fortune. Marcy was very impressed; she hung on every word that spewed forth. She was spellbound, everything she wanted in a man was sitting right in front of her, he had money, power, and looks; this was too good to be true. Victor had sewn an intricate web of half-truths’ and exaggerated memories. Marcy was unknowingly caught in Victor’s trap and Victor knew it.
After a few dances and a few more drinks both Victor and Marcy decided to call it a night. Marcy had a few more drinks than Victor and thus was hardly able to walk. He helped her to his car where she promptly passed out. Things had been going much better than he had planned. He then drove her back to his house, where her fate awaited her.
Victor carried his unconscious victim into his house and set her on the couch. When he set her down he drew his eyes over every inch of her body. His confidence faltered a bit; but he managed to steel himself and began his preparations. The first thing he did was remove her shoes. Her feet had gained a few calluses since he last laid eyes upon them; but otherwise they were still just as beautiful. Her arches were milky white and very soft. Each toe had a nice rose color to it, as did her heels. The tops of her feet were nice and tan and nearly as soft as her arches. Her toes were painted with a soft pink color; its contrast with her tan skin made her feet look very sexy.
Victor’s excitement grew; he just couldn’t wait till morning. Starting at her ankles and working toward her toes he began caressing the tops of her feet. His fingers barely touched her skin as he lovingly savored each stroke; sometimes he even managed to elicit some giggles from his sleeping beauty. He did not want to wake her just yet so he set her feet down and went into the bathroom to get some things. When he came back he was carrying a large plastic container filled with warm water. He set it down near her feet and added some Epsom salt to the water. He then placed her feet in the water, while they soaked Victor began collecting his instruments of torture that he planned on using on Marcy.
After about a half-hour of soaking Victor returned to Marcy, this time brandishing a pumice stone. He removed her left foot from the water and dried it off. The Epsom salt really helped in softening her skin; he began scrubbing at her heel, the rough patches of skin slowly fell away making even her heels extremely soft and sensitive. Next, he moved to the pads of her feet, again the skin easily came off revealing the soft tender flesh underneath just waiting to be tormented. Finally, Victor moved to the toes. He took great care in getting in between each toe. When he was done he admired his work for a moment before repeating each step on her other foot. It was perfect, her feet did not have any signs of rough skin, her torture would be absolute. He then began work on the other foot.
To complete the preparations Victor applied a foot moisturizer to her feet. He made sure to put gobs of lotion on each foot until they were very slippery. Marcy must have liked the massage she was getting cause a few moans escaped from her slumber. After that he took some small plastic baggies and covered each foot with one to help keep the moisture in. Finally, once the baggies were on he put two thick white socks on each of her feet to help keep them warm. He was done, she was now ready to receive her punishment, and he would relish every second of it. Victor then picked her up and brought her down to his room.
Victor placed Marcy on the table and began removing her evening gown. She had been wearing a black bra and a black thong bikini underneath her gown; Victor was in awe of her beauty she was definitely dressed to kill tonight. Victor then began attaching each cuff to her wrists. The leather straps easily grasped her hands and would hold them in place without leaving a mark on her. Once that was done he moved down to her feet and lovingly placed them in the holes in the stocks. After locking the stocks in place around her ankles Victor moved back to the head of the table and began to turn the crank and tighten her restraints. In a few moments Marcy had been completely immobilized. With her hands held tightly above her head and her feet secured in the stocks, spread apart, her body would not be able to move at all. Victor stood back to admire his work; he couldn’t help but lose himself in her beauty all over again. He remembered why he had the crush on her in the first place. He let his hand lovingly caress her face; he wanted to feel its soft skin before it gets distorted in the throws of ticklish agony. He then put a blanket over her half naked body and turned off the light. She was going to need her rest; she was about to have the longest weekend of her life.
Saturday
Marcy began to slowly wake. She didn’t really understand why she couldn’t rub her eyes or move her legs. It was also dark so she couldn’t really see. Soon the realization of her predicament slowly began to sink in. Her arms were securely bound above her head and her feet were secured apart from each other at the foot of the table. Her heart began to race and her mind wandered as she tried to remember what happened the night before. “Porter!” She gasped as the door to the small room sprang open. The light shining behind the figure in the door masked his face so she couldn’t make out who it was.
“Ah I’m glad to see that you are awake, would you like something to eat before we start?” The voice said almost mockingly. “Who are you really and why am I tied up like this?” Marcy demanded despite her situation. “You want to know who I am, fine I’ll give you a clue.” Victor said as he turned the light on. “Think back about ten years ago, try to remember the prom and a young innocent boy who wanted nothing more than to treat you like a queen, and how did you repay him? You not only stabbed him in the back, you humiliated him to the point where he couldn’t even show his face in school anymore.” The realization of who he was hit her like a train, it was now all too clear what was going on, her sins were now coming to bear. “Victor…oh my god. Y..you look great!” She said in a futile attempt to flatter him. “Nice try but flattery seldom works on me. Though, I really must thank you, if it hadn’t been for the awful humiliation that you guys put me through I might not be as successful as I am now.” Victor then sat down and placed his hand on the edge of the blanket that was covering Marcy. “Despite my success, you still left me with some scars that are never going to heal.” Victor then clenched the blanket with his now white-knuckled fist. “Victor, what are you going to do to me, you’re not going to hurt me are you?” She whimpered. “No, no I’m not going to hurt you.” Marcy breathed a sigh of relief. “ Tell me something Marcy, are you still as ticklish as you used to be?” Marcy’s eyes nearly fell out of her head. “You’re kidding right, you’re not going to tickle me are you?” She said worriedly. “Oh yes, yes I am. I am going to explore every inch of your body. Believe me when I say that no part of your exposed anatomy will go untouched. And when I find your most ticklish spots then I’m going to mercilessly exploit them till you can’t take any more; but you will because you’ll have no choice. Simply put, I am going to tickle you into absolute hysterics over the next two days and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.” As he spoke Victor slowly inched his face toward Marcy’s until his nose was mere centimeters from hers. “Go ahead then, I’m not ticklish anymore. You’re wasting your time.” She said while turning her head from Victor. “Let me go and I MIGHT forget that you’ve kidnapped me!” She offered in one last pitiful attempt to get out of her situation. “Nice try, somehow I doubt you’re being entirely truthful with me. Now let’s get down to business shall we?” Victor said as he ripped the blanket off of Marcy’s body exposing it yet again for Victor’s hungry eyes. After setting the blanket on the floor, Victor then walked over to Marcy’s torso with a pair of scissors and promptly snipped her bra off. Marcy protested in vain, she was also turning red with embarrassment; Victor found that to be very amusing.
He walked out of the room for a moment and came back with a small black bag that he set down next to the wall. Marcy could only guess what was in the bag, she didn’t really want to know, she just wanted to be let go so she could go home, but she can’t, she is trapped with no avenues of escape by a deranged psycho that wants to tickle torture her for god knows how long. While she was reflecting on her situation everything had suddenly gone dark again, but it wasn’t the lights, Victor had just blindfolded her. The black cloth over her eyes allowed no light to grace her vision. Then she heard him moving toward the head of the table, she didn’t know why. Though her question was quickly answered when she felt a feather slowly dance around her wrists just under the leather cuffs. It didn’t tickle too badly, it was more like an annoying itch, she could take it for now. Unfortunately for Marcy though, the feathers weren’t going to stay there. Victor then began slowly dragging the large peacock feathers lower and lower down her arms. As he progressed lower Marcy’s twitching grew in frequency and intensity until he came to the lower portion of her biceps. Marcy’s muscles then started to tense up as the feather titillated each nerve ending in her arm. Victor glanced at Marcy’s face while he danced the feathers dangerously close to her armpits. The look of determination on her face was priceless. Her mouth was clenched shut and her lips were pressed firmly together. It was clear she didn’t want to give Victor the satisfaction of laughing, but they both knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Soon she would be a cackling mess willing to do anything just to end her torture.
Victor decided to tease Marcy a little more before going in for the kill and jumped the feathers past her underarms and began weaving them over her breasts. Marcy was still able to hold back the laughter but her will was breaking and it was just a matter of time. Every swipe of those awful instruments of torture further weakened Marcy’s will as they caressed her vulnerable breasts. She was near the breaking point, and Victor knew it.
Victor then started to criss-cross the feathers over Marcy’s firm and toned belly. The giggles began to pour out as each stroke made contact with her sensitive flesh. The torment was taking its toll on her. Her body glistened in the light with beads of sweat erupting all over her body. The feathers ended up soaking up some of the sweat causing them to cool in the air and, in essence, shock Marcy with each stroke. Then just when she was about to break and let loose with laughter the tickling ceased. Perhaps he had given up; it seemed like he had been tickling her for hours now, maybe her trick was successful. Just then as quickly as her hope came it left as the quill end of the feathers began to slowly scratch down her arms. This was much worse; it took all the strength she had left not to laugh. The quills followed the same path as their predecessors; dragging agonizing lines up and down the length of Marcy’s straining arms. Only this time when Victor hit that patch of skin just above the underarm with the quills it was all she could take. “Nooooo. Not there pleeeease! Hahahahaha.” She squealed as Victor tormented her arms. The laughter was music to his ears, he had hoped that she would have lasted longer but this means she is much more ticklish than he thought. She shook her head side to side in a vain attempt to dismiss the feelings in her arms. Victor then decided to quit using the feathers and instead he started to scribble his fingers in her underarms.
“Ahhhhhahahahahaha nononono not there please!!!!” She screamed through long bouts of laughter. Her body rocked left and right trying to escape his fingers. Victor found this to be a bit annoying so he climbed up on the table and straddled Marcy’s pelvis. This further restricted her movement. She could only shake her head as she waited for the tickling to resume. Victor slowly and cruelly brought his fingers toward her armpits. The waiting was almost as maddening as the actual tickling. She tried listening for any sign of movement, but she couldn’t hear anything. Victor was still sitting on her, but he seemingly wasn’t doing anything. Just as she relaxed and sighed with relief Victor’s fingers came crashing back into Marcy’s armpits. This time they fluttered more furiously. Her insane laughter bounced off of the walls, and Victor savored each second of it.
Victor then decided to switch tactics on her underarms. Instead of tickling both underarms he used one hand to restrain one of her arms at the elbow as he scraped the sensitive flesh of her underarm with his free hand. This method wrenched renewed agonizing laughter from Marcy. At one point Victor took his pointer finger and slowly dragged it up and down, left and right, and even in little spirals in her hyper sensitive hollows. All Marcy could do was submit to the intense, torturous feelings coursing through her body. Victor then began his torture on Marcy’s other, neglected, armpit. It elicited the same effect from her distraught body. Cackling guffaws echoed throughout the room from Marcy’s overtaxed lungs. Had it not been for the soundproofing, her laughter would have surely caught someone’s attention. Although Victor knew it had only been a half-hour since he had started Marcy’s punishment, to Marcy it seemed as if time itself abandoned her to this hellish fate.
Finally, after about an hour of torment Victor finally let up. Large pools of sweat ran down Marcy’s body collecting on the table. Victor stepped off of the table and started to dig around in his bag. “Would you like some water?” Marcy felt a straw make contact with her lips, in her state of mind she was in no condition to refuse anything. So she sipped large amounts of water to help replenish her fluids. “Thank you.” She said sheepishly, happy that she was getting a break though afraid that the tickling will start up any moment. “No problem.” Victor said as he set the bottle on the floor. “Well breaks over time to get started again.” Before Marcy could even protest she felt Victor’s hands grasp her ribs. Each finger began expertly squeezing her ribs. Not to the point of pain, but with just enough pressure to cause the desired result. The room filled with renewed gales of laughter as Victor played Marcy’s ribs like a piano. Marcy could barely breathe it tickled so badly. She tried to speak but between the laughter and how little oxygen she was getting she found that all that came out were broken words and unintelligible utterings. But her laughter continued unabated.
Victor noticed that she was tiring quicker and let up on her ribs for a while, he descended his hands down to her belly and flanks. The scream Marcy let out when Victor lightly scratched the area just above her hips was enough to shatter glass. The sensations were simply driving her into insanity, she couldn’t even think about anything except how awfully she was being tickled right now. The past and future didn’t even exist to her overly taxed mind, just the present time.
Victor looked at his watch and noticed that he had been tickling Marcy for over three hours now. Her body lay limp and lifeless on the table; she was drifting in and out of consciousness as well. He decided to let her rest for now, he got up off of Marcy’s sweaty body and covered her back in the blanket. He then shut off the lights and went upstairs to make some food for the both of them.
While in the darkness Marcy’s cognitive thoughts started to return to her, her heart rate and breathing were beginning to calm down, and she became aware that although it was a torturous experience it also left her feeling pretty good. The extended tickling caused her body to release large amounts of endorphins into her bloodstream. She can barely feel the aches in her muscles and she feels like she could go and run a marathon. She also noticed that another part of her body became excited from all the action. She did not want Victor to know about this and hoped he wouldn’t find out. If he did then there is no telling what he would do, besides he was really cute; she most definitely would have dated him now, if only she hadn’t done what she did ten years ago. Though now is not the time for hindsight, she was very hungry and had to use the facilities.
During her contemplation’s Marcy heard the door open and footsteps. “Did we sleep well?” Victor asked with mock concern. “Victor please, I’ve learned my lesson please let me go. I won’t tell anyone I promise.” Marcy pleaded. Little did she know that part of Victor still yearned to care for her, part of him wanted to let her go and hold her in his arms and comfort her. Much to Marcy’s dismay Victor’s more dominant feelings were more vengeful and angry than anything else. He swallowed his feelings for Marcy and removed the blanket from her near naked body.
The cool air struck Marcy’s skin like a hammer, she nearly jumped out of her skin it was so cold. “Wait!” Marcy demanded. “I really have to go to the bathroom. If you tickle me again you will have a big mess on your hands.” She knew she had a point, but would Victor recognize it or even care. She waited for a moment when suddenly, her blindfold was removed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light bearing down on her. Once they focused she noticed Victor attaching handcuffs to her right wrist. “What are you doing?” She asked inquisitively. “I am releasing you so you can use the bathroom. For both our safety you are going to be handcuffed and shackled. I wouldn’t want you running from me while we still have more business to attend to.” He said while releasing her from the leather straps and cuffing her hands together in front of her. He then attached the shackles to her still socked feet. Marcy thought it was odd that she was wearing socks as she had not been wearing them the night before. Though she didn’t mind they kept her feet nice and warm.
Victor then led Marcy to a room still in the basement. He opened the door and turned on the light. “Just so you know, there are no windows so there is no other way out, there is no lock on the door so if I think that you are stalling then I will come in whether your decent or not, and this room is also soundproof so screaming for help will not do any good. Do you understand?” She nodded and proceeded with her business.
She had nothing but her thoughts and the soft hum of the fan to comfort her distraught mind. She couldn't take another bout of tickling it would surely drive her insane. Her only hope was to keep begging and pleading for mercy. Not exactly her first choice but she would never make it out of the house while she was cuffed and shackled. It seemed hopeless.
She finished up and exited the bathroom. “I’m hungry, didn’t you offer me food earlier today.” Her seductive voice nearly melted Victor’s heart. “Um yeah, all I can really offer you is a sandwich though. I don’t exactly keep the house stocked with food.” She smiled and nodded her head in approval. “I’m afraid that you’re going to have to go back in the room while I prepare the sandwiches.” He said while nearly stumbling over some box’s. Marcy tried to protest when he grabbed the chain on her handcuffs and led her back into the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the food.” He closed and locked the door and proceeded upstairs to the kitchen.
While she was left alone Marcy slowly became aware that Victor still cared for her. Even after what she did to him ten years ago, he stilled cared. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. She was somewhat flattered despite the fact that he kidnapped her and is tickle torturing her. It could’ve been worse; most psychos would have been doing much more horrible things to her. One thing she wondered about was why was he tickling her?
After a few more minutes Victor barged in carrying two plates of sandwiches and juice. “I hope that you like PB and J.” He set the tray on the table and handed her a glass. “Oh one more thing.” Victor darted back out of the room and went upstairs. Before she knew it he was back carrying a robe. “Here, I thought you might like this while you ate.” He offered it to her without realizing that she couldn’t put it on while she was handcuffed. She shot a glance of disapproval at him and held up her restrained hands. “Oops, sorry about that.” He grabbed his keys and quickly took off the handcuffs. “There you go.” He said while helping her into the robe. “Thanks, I was a bit cold.” He nodded in acknowledgement.
While they ate there was an awkward silence in the room. Victor never really made eye contact with her. He just looked about the room avoiding his captives gaze. Marcy on the other hand was staring right at Victor. She had so many questions to ask, but she didn’t want to enrage him. She still wasn’t quite sure about his state of mind. After she finished the last bite of her sandwich she decided to break the silence.
“So why are you tickling me Victor?” His eyes suddenly met hers and he just smiled. “I think I should ask why do you like to be tickled.” Marcy lowered her head in shame. He had noticed that she had been aroused by her recent experience. “I thought so, well to answer your question. It has always been a fantasy of mine. Tying up a beautiful girl and sending her body and mind through the throws of hysteria; it just fascinates me. While you were always the focus of my fantasies, you were not the first girl I ever tied up and tickled. The babysitter I had when I was ten was my first. I think she liked it too, as she always played Cowboys and Indians with me. She always played the Indian and let me tie her up. She had the softest and most ticklish feet. Almost the most ticklish I have ever seen. Though I am willing to bet yours are near the top.” He smiled as she looked down and noticed she was still sock footed. “Well you’ve eaten and I’d say that this conversation has reached its end. Now hop back up on the table so we can get started again.” His demeanor suddenly changed, he was now serious and determined. Marcy debated what she should do. She was still shackled so there was no hope of running. He walked toward her while she stared blankly at him. “Please don’t tickle me anymore, I can’t take it.” Her eyes were beginning to well up with tears. Victor walked behind her and stripped her of the robe. “Please don’t do this.” She begged, but he was unwavering and picked her up and gently lay her on the table. Her pleading fell upon deaf ears. He grabbed her by both hands as she started to squirm. He forcefully pulled them over her head and began strapping her arms down again. He made quick work of her arms, as he was too strong for her to fight. He then moved down to her legs which she began kicking. The chain from the shackles ended up striking Victor square in the jaw causing Victor to fall backwards and hit the wall. “I suggest you calm yourself or you will just make things worse.” He groaned while rubbing his jaw.
Marcy didn’t want to do anything further to anger him so she complied and lowered her legs. Victor then released her shackles and placed each leg in the appropriate sockets. He then lowered the top half of the stocks and locked them in place. Then he walked back toward the head of the table and began to turn the crank. Marcys arms then tightened overhead and once again completely immobilized her. Once she was tightened enough Victor left the room. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He said, still nursing his jaw.
Once Victor returned he brandished two things. An ice pack for his jaw and a pair of scissors. Marcy’s mind raced with thoughts of what he was going to do with the scissors. “For your little love-tap earlier you are going to lose something.” He motioned the scissors toward one of Marcy’s breasts and then traced her body down towards her hips. She shut her eyes preparing for the worst. With a few quick snips Marcy’s panties fell apart. She opened her eyes in horror as she watched her panties fall away exposing her now naked womanhood. “Hey!” She yelled in disapproval. Marcy was now completely naked save for the socks that still remained bound to her feet.
Victor bent down close to Marcy’s face and whispered “Now we can have some real fun.” As he stood upright he looked at Marcy’s Saucer-like eyes and smiled. He then grabbed his little black bag and began rummaging through it. Then, much to Marcy’s horror, he pulled out an electric toothbrush. Its long neck brandished a small round head, which bore its bristles. “Enough juice to last two hours.” He goaded as he walked toward Marcy’s vulnerable body.
Victor decided that since he had free access to Marcy’s breasts he would take advantage of that. He then climbed on top of Marcy, straddling her, and stared at her flawless breasts. Each breast was firm and yet soft. Her nipples spoke volumes to Victor; they were very erect and most likely very sensitive. He decided that he would save the best for last and then pushed the “ON” button on the toothbrush.
Marcy just whimpered as Victor slowly brought the bristles into contact with the skin just under her right breast. The effect of the bristles were like electric shocks, they quickly shattered Marcy’s will and immediately caused her to shriek with laughter. “Nooooo please, stop!’ As the tickling continued each garbled sentence was punctuated with soft moans and whispered pleas. Victor slowly drew the toothbrush in concentric circles around the outside of her breast and slowly worked his way toward her nipple. “I can tell you like this.” He said, somewhat futilely as she could barely hear him.
Victor’s touch with the toothbrush was gentle and his demeanor resolute. His technique was that of an expert because Marcy was, simply put, a mess. Her hair was plastered to her scalp and face; her body ached in more ways than she thought possible. Her laughter continued to echo off of the walls and throughout Victor’s mind. Finally Victor’s unwavering path brought him to his desired target. He then grasped her breast with his hand and began his work. The sensations turned Marcy’s laughter down to moans and giggles. “Don’t stop.” She gasped. Victor had no intention of stopping; nor did he have any intentions of giving her the release she desired.
Marcy’s hips began to passionately grind under Victor in a desperate search for anything that might grant her release. Her moans began to escalate toward her inevitable climax. The grinding was becoming faster and more pronounced and finally as her muscles began to tighten and her body started to shudder with anticipation; Victor stopped.
He climbed off of her glistening body and wiped the hair out of her face. “Sorry hon, but I’m afraid you’re not going to get off that easily.” He said with a hint of sarcasm. Marcy’s beguilement ended quickly as she realized why he stopped. “Please Victor, let me cum. You can tickle me all you want afterwards. I just need release.” Victor had thoroughly crushed her will; she would have done anything he asked just for release. “I can tickle you all I want now, which is what I am going to do.” Upon ending his sentence he began a furious assault on Marcy’s body. His fingers expertly darted to different areas on Marcy’s body to keep her from getting used to the sensations. He also made sure to avoid any arousing areas like her breasts and pelvic area. For two hours Victor teased, tortured, and tormented Marcy by bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then yanking her back down by tickling her. Then when he felt she truly had enough he stopped. “I think you’ve earned a break now. I will give you an hour to rest and take care of any business you need to.” He said while undoing the cuffs.
Marcy barely moved for ten minutes while she regained her strength. Victor had bound her exactly like he had earlier that day with handcuffs and shackles. He then left her in the room while he went to prepare dinner. Marcy’s will was broken and thus had lost any hope for escape. She just sat on the edge of the table that held her and waited. She wanted to give herself what Victor had denied her for so long, but she was too afraid that there would be consequences if she did so she just put on the robe he had given her earlier and waited.
Finally, Victor returned with food. He set the tray down on the table and handed Marcy her plate. He had prepared a salad and some pasta for their dinner. Marcy ate so ravenously that you would think she hadn’t eaten for weeks. She quickly downed her drink and let out a muffled belch. “You ate that pretty fast, I must be a good cook.” He said smugly. She just smiled at him and shuffled out of the room to use the bathroom. While she was doing her business Victor cleaned up the dishes and brought them upstairs. While upstairs he began to prepare his next torture for Marcy.
When he came back downstairs Victor noticed that Marcy had been rubbing her shoulders. “A little sore huh?” He asked. “Yea, being stretched like that for so long will put a few knots in your back.” Victor then led Marcy back into the room and removed her robe. “Lay face down, let’s see if I can’t get those knots out.” Marcy was shocked, but not about to question him so she complied. She laid face down as Victor darted out of the room. He came back with a pillow in his hands, which he gave to Marcy. She placed it under herself as Victor climbed up on the table. He straddled her again and began firmly rubbing her shoulders. Victor’s hands were almost magical; he used a gentle grip yet had a firm touch. Within a few minutes Marcy had completely relaxed as Victor softly rubbed her back from top to bottom. Marcy even let out a few giggles as he caressed her hips and flanks. Victor then finished the massage off by softly tracing his fingers through her hair and scalp. Marcy felt so good that she had forgotten that she was a kidnap victim.
Unfortunately for Marcy all good things must come to an end, and this was no different. Victor hopped up off of Marcy and bade her to turn over. She complied with little resistance and Victor immobilized her one more time.
“I’ll be right back.” He said as he darted out of the room and up the stairs. After a bit of commotion Victor returned carrying a small stack of paper cups, a roll of tape, and a large metal bowl. “Now we’re going to have some fun.” He said while setting the tray down. Marcy had no idea what he had in mind; not that it mattered she couldn’t go anywhere.
Victor began taping the mouths of cups to different areas on her body. Before long Marcy had a cup on each breast, two on her tummy, two on each thigh, and one right in the center of her chest just below the sternum. Oddly, the bottoms of each cup had been cut off. Before Marcy could ask anything Victor picked up the large metal bowl and reached for its contents. He then pulled out an ice cube and dropped it in one of the cups on her tummy. “EEEK! That’s cold!” She said as Victor dropped ice cubes in each one of the cups on her body.
Once all the cups had a few ice cubes each in them Victor stood back in amusement as Marcy thrashed in her own limited way. “Oh my God! Victor please, please, o please take them out. I can’t stand it!” She said in a frantic voice. Despite the fact that the ice was numbing the different areas of her body, and making her nipples very rigid and erect, its sensations were almost as bad as the tickling.
After a while of squirming from the ice cubes Victor walked over to her upper body and, without warning began to tickle her armpits. She shrieked and laughed loudly. This new sensation was exacting a heavy toll on her sanity; her mind had never had to cope with the extreme cold of the ice cubes and the sensory overload of the tickling. The two sensations fought for supremacy within her fragile psyche. Marcy’s voice began to grow hoarse from the shrieking and laughing and soon she was completely unable to say anything at all. Just silent, unending, laughter.
Victor continued his tickle assault on her armpits until all the ice cubes had fully melted in their cups. He then began removing the cups; the water inside rushed down Marcy’s distraught body, sometimes even tickling her.
Once he was finished removing the cups and drying up the large puddles of water Victor noticed that Marcy had passed out. Her hours of torment had taken its toll on her and her body just finally shut down. So he cleaned up his things, threw a blanket over her and turned out the lights. She still had another long day ahead of her tomorrow.
Sunday
Marcy awoke to find herself untied; yet still locked in Victor’s basement. She sat on the table waiting for her tormentor to come back. She found herself pondering her predicament. She was surely going to be tortured more, yet it didn’t bother her. She almost looked forward to it. As she came to that realization her common sense jumped into play reminding her that she has been kidnapped, held against her will, and sexually assaulted. Even with that thought she still couldn’t help but wonder what wonderful err… horrible torments Victor had in store for her today. She paced about her domicile in anticipation. She walked in circles around the table; her feet still clad in socks. Marcy quickly came to a halt and noticed that the white socks Victor had originally put her in were a bit different. The pair she was currently wearing were a little thicker and had a blue strip at the toes like some socks have. If her memory served correctly; the socks she wore the past two days didn’t have that stripe. She thought that it was a bit odd that he even kept socks on her feet since the rest of her body was fully exposed. Oh well, she thought to herself, even if there was a significance to it there wasn’t much she could do about it.
After a few more moments of pacing Victor finally opened the door. “I see you’re up.” He said carrying two plates of food in his hands. “I thought you might like some breakfast on this lovely morning.” He then placed one plate on the table. “So what’s on the menu this morning?” She asked coyly. Despite it’s obviousness Victor listed the delicacies that he had prepared that morning. “Well to start off, I thought you might like some of my famous scrambled eggs flavored with a dash of salt. To compliment the eggs I prepared two exquisite slices of toast with a rasberry jam lovingly spread over each slice. And then, located next to the toast are three slices of the most succulent bacon you’ll ever taste. Finally, to round out our meal a tall glass of orange juice chock full of vitamin C.”
(Clapping) “That was wonderful,” she said while giggling. “I’m surprised you didn’t become a chef or something like that.” Victor stood up and bowed for his audience. “Thank you, thank you. Well I was thinking of getting a job in the culinary arts, but my tendency to pick my nose and not wash my hands kept me out of the school.” Marcy let out a little chortle from his joke. Over the next half-hour the two of them became friends, reminiscing about old times and people long forgotten.
Finally, Victor had to break up their little chat. “Well are you ready for more torment?” He said rather bluntly. Marcy removed her robe, and jumped up on the table and extended her arms and legs out so he would have an easy time restraining her. Victor was a little more than shocked and confused. He expected more whining and pleading, as it turns out she is starting to like her torture. “Well I see you’ve become an enlightened individual.” Victor said while binding her hands to the ropes. “Yeah, its kind of weird. This is actually a little fun.” She said in a bubbly way. Victor just smirked at her statement. “Yeah, fun huh? We’ll see what you think of it after today. Up until now I have been ignoring a certain part of your truly ticklish body. I guess you could say that I was saving the best for last.” What he was referring to finally dawned on Marcy. Her feet, by far the most ticklish part of her body, she couldn’t bear to even have them touched. She thought about how her older cousin used to pin her legs to the ground while he would mercilessly tickle her feet. Suddenly her mouth was dry, her heart was racing, and her body was starting to sweat. She was barely able to hold on to her sanity from the other torture she endured, this just might drive her insane.
Victor stood at the foot of the table with an evil grin painted across his face. “Um, why don’t you just keep tickling my body. I’ll tell you where it tickles the most.” Her pleas and bargains fell upon deaf ears. “I already know where you are most ticklish, your feet; and I have waited for this day for a long time. In high school I would have moved heaven and earth just to touch your soft peds, now I have them wiggling helplessly in front of me. Nothing you can say or do will deter me from ruthlessly scratching my fingers along your soft arches.” He said almost sadistically. His stern and proud demeanor was almost a turn on for Marcy, she loved men who had power and used it. “Oh, I should let you know. Every night you have passed out I have been doing a little….maintenance on your feet.” Marcy’s brow sunk in confusion. “You see I have been using a pumice stone on the thick parts of your feet. Then I have used a moisturizer to help keep them soft. I’m afraid that you’ll find your feet are quite a bit more ticklish than they have ever been.” Marcy’s jaw dropped, her mind couldn’t grasp how sensitive her feet were now. It all had made sense now, the different socks and the plastic baggies. She thought that was a bit odd. All she could do is wait for it to start yet she wished it would end.
Victor laid a few tools about the table. An electric toothbrush, some Q-tips, a plastic fork, his peppermint moisturizing crème, and some more ice cubes. He then began his savory task of removing the socks from his captive’s feet. He started with her right foot. He grasped it from under the heel and began pulling the sock off of her ankles. Slowly it began exposing her warm soles to the cool air. Her feet were so sensitive she could feel it through the baggy. Victor kept pulling at the sock; slowly it exposed more and more of her arch to his hungry eyes. Finally the sock came free revealing five perfect digits wiggling in their freedom. Victor nearly ripped his pants he was so aroused. He then viciously tore the baggy from her helpless sole fully exposing it to the cool air. He couldn’t help himself he had to see how well his nightly efforts paid off. He drew a stiff finger from heel to toe on her sole. Marcy’s reaction was a spectacle that could only be seen to be fully appreciated; were she positioned correctly she would have gnawed her own feet off just to escape the neurochemical electrocution she was being forced to endure.
Needless to say Victor was more than pleased with her reaction and wasted no time in releasing her left foot from its bondage of cotton and flaccid plastic. Before him lay his Holy Grail. Two of the most ticklish feet to ever walk this earth on the girl that he has loved since he first noticed girls. So without further delay Victor began his assault. He started by grasping her left foot by its toes and pulling them back so he could explore her sole without the folly of wrinkles or curled toes. Marcy was howling and screaming while struggling with every bit of strength in her body; but in the end all she could really do was laugh. No other feeling could possibly make her ignore the impulses shooting from her feet to her brain. They took precedence over every thought and feeling she was capable of experiencing.
After about ten minutes of tickling her left foot Victor switched to her right foot and began anew. Her renewed howling and laughing started to concern Victor. After all he didn’t want to hurt her. She was also coughing very badly and gasping for air like she was being choked. So as quickly as he had started he relented on her foot and walked to the head of the table to check on his guinea pig. Her hair plastered her reddened face. Tears were streaming from her eyes. He brought a cup to her mouth and gave her some water to help with her dry throat. The thought of just letting her go did cross his mind. After all he wasn’t an ogre; she had surely paid her penance for what she had done to him. “I’m not sure I should keep this up.” He said solemnly. “I think that I am actually hurting you now.” He then reached out to untie her hands when she grabbed his wrist “NO, don’t stop now! Last night you teased me and didn’t let me come, well I’ll be damned if that is going to happen again!” She said with what little strength she could muster. Victor was taken aback by this sudden turn of events. She wanted him to continue tickling her feet. “Just don’t tickle my feet for an hour straight, ok!” She said hoarsely. He nodded in acknowledgement, then went back to the foot of the table. The musk from her womanhood filled the air. He knew then that she wasn’t kidding. Marcy watched as he stood by her feet scratching his head over something. He quickly made his decision, whatever it was, and began his arduous task. All Marcy could hear was the hum of what sounded like a vibrator. She was wrong; it was a toothbrush, an electric toothbrush which soon came into contact with one of her big toes. The feeling was simply unbearable. Her head thrashed from side to side as Victor slowly and methodically “cleaned” each one of Marcy’s toes. He did the tips, the tops, the bottoms, and much to Marcy’s torment in-between each toe. He stopped and let her rest before moving on and doing the same thing to her other foot.
When he was done “cleaning” Marcy’s toes, Victor then pulled out some shoe- strings and began binding Marcy’s toes to the rings on top of the stocks. Marcy was laughing just from having the strings pulled between her toes. Once he was finished Marcy’s toes were completely immobile, thereby also immobilizing her feet. He then started what turned out to be the most tortuous of tortures. Victor applied gobs of the moisturizer to her feet making them very slippery. Then he stood at her feet, with both hands resting in front of each foot, and then just started scratching both her arches. Marcy wasn’t even able to laugh. He mouth was agape, yet no sounds came out save a few gasps for air. Because of how extreme it was Victor had to give Marcy numerous breaks, but in the end he tickled her like that for two hours. He was amazed that she was still conscious. His heart then grew with pity so he untied her toes and began randomly using his other tools of the trade on her soft soles.
As the day surged forward for Victor, time seemed to pass quickly, for Marcy it was exactly the opposite, she noticed each excruciating second pass by. Victor had used so many implements on her sensitive soles, yet none compared to his fingers. Every now and then Victor would drop whatever weapon he was using and would just furiously scribble his fingers on her feet. It was excruciating for her, yet whenever he let up with his fingers she could feel herself become more moist than she had been previously. She had no idea that tickling her feet could be so erotic. She wanted the tickling to end now, but not because it tickled. She wanted Victor, now and not later. “Victor, Victor I need you. I need you now!” She said sternly. “What do you need, water, food, or bathroom?” He said naively. “No you don’t get it. I WANT YOU!” Her demand finally hit home with Victor as it slowly dawned on him. “OH, I see, you want ME. Well far be it for me to deny the request of such a beautiful lady.” All the muscles in her body, as sore as they were, contracted at the thought of her sexual release. She watched as Victor undressed in front of her. His rock hard athletic body only further fueled her fire. She was becoming restless now, she was squirming in her bonds, she needed to hold him, to feel him. Victor realized this and began releasing her hands. She didn’t even let him untie her feet. She just pulled him up onto her body as they met in a passionate embrace. They kissed each other for a long while before he granted her the release that she craved so desperately. His excitement was more than obvious now and it seemed only to grow as they kissed. He then laid her back down and entered her. It took but mere moments for her to orgasm. It was so strong it shook the foundation of her psyche. She let out a scream so loud it had all the cats in the neighborhood going wild. But Victor wasn’t finished; he then tied her arms back up and re-entered his bound vixen. While their bodies were grinding against each other, Victor began tickling Marcy again. Similar to what he had done the night before, except he wasn’t going to hold back. Her moans and laughter were intertwined and only served to turn Victor on even more.
For the rest of the day Marcy and Victor made passionate love. Sometimes he would tickle her during sex, and other times just tickled her. Marcy not only fell in love with Victor; but she also fell in love with the new sensations that he forced upon her. At the end of the night, Victor gave Marcy her clothes back and he let her go. But she didn’t go to the cops, as one who was kidnapped would do.
The next day Marcy quit her job at the doctor’s office saying that she was moving away. A few months later Victor and Marcy were married, oddly enough for their honeymoon instead of going on a cruise or anything like that, they decided to go and stay at Victor’s old house.
The end...
