tickledorange
2nd Level Orange Feather
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Can also be found at: www.ticklingforum.com/forumdisplay.php?f=182
WARNING! Very non-con! If offended, please turn away! If not, enjoy! I wrote this during finals time, which was very emotional for *everyone*, so that's why I was debating on posting this.
Belleville News-Democrat: March 31, 2006: The Belleville Police have issued a warning for the entire St. Clair County to be on the look out for a white Caucasian male, about 5’10, 190 lb., 42 years old, dark hair, green eyes, no facial hair, and glasses. He has an earring in his right ear and a noticeable scar on his left hand that looks like a knife wound. Police say that he is from around the area. He was last spotted about 7:30 this morning by a woman who was jogging. She told Belleville police that the man stopped to the side of her and rolled down his driver side window. The victim told police that he asked her to “come over to his car. He said he was lost and has to ask me for directions. I paid no attention to him at first, but he kept on persisting.”
The victim then reported that the suspect kept following her in his car for about 5 more blocks. She then began to run away, which made him pursue even faster. At one instant, he opened his door with the car still moving, trying to sideswipe her while trying to hit her with his car door. The police report reads that she stepped to the side to block it, and then ran through several yards to try to escape. The suspect then drove through several alleys, allegedly colliding with some parked vehicles. The woman reports that during this time, she then ran to a house nearby to dodge the suspect. Once the owners answered the door, she then went inside to call the police, who then instructed one of her close friends to come get her. The woman was also treated by the local paramedics, who found no injuries on her. Local law enforcement is urging all residents to be on the lookout for this man or any suspicious activity of this nature.
-----Report by Beth Howard
Christine walked quickly down the old dirt road that lead to her house. It was the fastest way home, but that didn’t help with the fact that it looked dark and uninhabited. The houses were a few hundred feet from the road, rows of corn filled the distance between the two. It didn’t help her any either that there was barely any light on the roadway, either. The few streetlights that ran along the small lane were flashing or dim and only lit a small radius underneath them. Christine tried to stay in between these patches, looking over her shoulder the whole time to make sure nothing was following behind her. She folded her arms and rubbed her shoulders as she walked, quickening her pace and then slowing down to catch her breath. The night air was very chilly to her skin, even though she was wearing jeans and brown boots and a jacket. She stuck her hands in her pockets for extra warmth, slouching down as she continued home.
Christine hated walking home from work by herself, but it was the only way. Even though she was a freshman at the local community college, she had not yet earned enough money to buy her own car. The school was just right down the road, so it was not that far of a walk from her house, but it sure felt that way when the sun went down and she was all alone. Her new job as a computer lab assistant was pretty easy, all she had to do was watch people play on the computer while she did her homework. It sounded like the ideal job to her, even though the lab closed at 10 PM every night, which meant that she would have to take that short walk alone and in the dark. (IMPROVE)
She was walking slowly, shuffling her feet on the ground, when she heard a car coming up quickly behind her. She turned her head to see who it was, but didn’t recognize the shape. The worst thing about it was the car seemed to be veering to the side of the road, closer and closer to where she was walking. She stopped walking and stood on the side of the road, facing toward the approaching vehicle. They turned on their brights at her, nearly blinding the poor girl and forcing her to cup her hands over her eyes. Christine noticed that the closer they got to her, the more the headlights began to fan out in front of her. She turned her head towards the car once it passed, trying to see who was in the passenger seat or the driver seat. It drove slowly past her, as if it was watching her. The inside of the car looked black to her: she couldn’t see who was driving or who else was in the car. Whoever it was, Christine gave them an evil look of disgust as they drove past her. She followed the car with her eyes, trying to get the number of the license plate on the back of the car to see if she recognized the person, but noticed there wasn’t any form of identification. She just turned herself toward the front of the road and stayed focused on getting home now. She tightened the string around the hood on her jacket and put her hands in her pockets while she strolled her way closer to her residence, still wary of what had happened.
A few feet had passed in front of her. She was still looking down at the ground in front of her, when all of a sudden, she heard the screech of tires behind her. Paying no attention to what was going on, she didn’t step to the side when the same black car came barreling back down the road in reverse. It cut right in front of her and jackknifed to the side so that the driver’s side door was directly in front of her. She could hear screaming within the car and then the sound of a door opening. Without realizing it, Christine was struck in the leg by the bottom of the slammed-open door. She immediately fell to the ground, rolling over onto her back. Christine struggled to get to her feet, frantically kicking her legs and trying hard to sit up.
“Well well well, I finally got one!” the driver of the car said joyously.
“What did you do that for? What do you want from me?” she screamed, rolling onto her stomach.
“Oh no, you’re not getting away from me! Not this time, not again!”
He then put the car in park and climbed out of the car. He walked up to her and grabbed both of her arms and pulled her up. Christine responded by shaking around violently, pulling back on his grip. “Let go of me, let go of me you psycho! I hate you! Get away from me! Help, I’m being kidnapped! HELP!” she cried out.
“It’s no use, Christine,” he said, smiling at her, “I’ve got you now! There’s no escape for you! Give up, or things will get harder for you!”
He stood her up, pulling on her arms so she would rise to her feet. Christine was still struggling, but he had a firm grip that wouldn’t let go. “Not this again! You can’t have me, I won’t go!”
“You have no choice now; you’re….coming….with….me!”
He lifted her into the air by her waist and pushed her into the back of his black sedan. Making sure he took all the precautions, he looked at the child locks on the doors as he pushed her inside. Christine tried to jump out the partially opened door as he was slamming it, but it was too late. She banged her head against the door at the last minute. Christine sat back in the seat and rubbed her forehead, crying softly as she pounded her fist on the window. She coldly looked at him, her facial expression screaming with anger. “Let me out of here! What are you doing to me? I don’t deserve this!” she shouted, glaring at him and testing the door handles.
Brett laughed at the sounds of her fighting as he walked over to the side of the car to the driver’s side. He turned around and looked over at her before he finally got in the vehicle. Christine gave him a look as she slammed her fist on the window, shaking the glass. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he told her, getting inside, shutting his door, and buckling his seatbelt, “We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, now would we?”
Christine took a deep breath as she sat back in the cloth seats. She didn’t quite know what was in store for her, but she just looked out the window the whole time, watching the world pass by her as she was trapped inside the automobile. “So what do you want from me?” she asked desperately, her hands pressed against the Plexiglas that separated the front from the back.
“You’ll soon find out,” he replied, already feeling the tightness in his pants from thinking about Christine’s fate, “I have something fun planned for the both of us.”
They drove down the long, unpaved road for miles, passing deeper and deeper into the forest that was outside of town. Christine continued to look around nonchalantly, trying to find some kind of escape route, at least a window or a broken door, but came up with nothing each time. Finally, her captor noticed her out of the corner of his eye. “What are you doing back there?” he asked, staring at her in the rearview mirror.
“Nothing…..why?” she replied, putting the palms of her hands on the bench seat quickly and looking towards him.
“Oh, no reason, just….”
He abruptly swerved the car over to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. He thrusted the car into park and slammed open his door. Christine watched closely the whole time he was outside of the car. She saw him go around to the trunk and pop it open. She couldn’t see what he pulled out, but she had a hunch that it was for her. She saw him close the trunk and Christine immediately turned around to the front, facing the windshield. Brett walked up to the side of the car and stared at Christine through the window in the back seat. Christine didn’t react at all, sitting as still as an English palace guard, focusing on the scene in front of her. Brett opened up the back door and looked at Christine. Christine turned her head slowly so she was eventually looking eye to eye with her abductor. He slowly reached over for the door handle and opened it just enough so he could reach inside. With one hand, he reached over for Christine’s arm and grabbed onto it. Christine tried to pull away, but before she could, Brett had one cuff from the handcuffs placed around her wrists. “Let go of me! Stop it! Don’t handcuff me!” Christine cried desperately.
She twisted around in her seat, trying to prevent Brett from placing the cuffs on her wrists. “Hold still!” he yelled at her.
Brett then grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him. Christine tried to struggle, but somehow couldn’t move a muscle. “Listen you!” he demanded, pulling her to him and looking into her eyes, “You will do exactly as I tell you, otherwise, this will get harder for you and you won’t like it.”
Christine sniffled and lowered her head a little as she submitted to having the cuffs put on her wrists. He locked the handcuffs and tossed Christine. She rolled to the other side of the car seat and put her face into the crease in the cloth of the bench. Christine slowly rolled over and pulled herself up slowly to a sitting position. She watched Brett closely as he got back into the vehicle and continued driving like nothing had happened.
Christine sat up straight in the backseat, clanking the metal of her handcuffs together. She didn’t want to make her abductor any angrier than he already was. He was already hitting the steering wheel and mumbling to himself, she didn’t want to make him any worse.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of sitting in the backseat with the cuffs on, she noticed that they had finally pulled up to a house. It was the typical house in the middle of nowhere. The driveway was about 500 feet long with a forest surrounding it and a fence lined the edge of the driveway. Christine looked around and realized she had no idea where she was, even though she had been paying attention as much as she could. The farmhouse was two stories tall and made out of brick. A front porch of the house was the first thing that was noticeable to all of its visitors. Christine also noticed that there were lots of flowers and landscaping that surrounded the house too, which she thought was unusual for a kidnapper.
Brett pulled the car down the rest of the long driveway and opened the garage door. He drove the car inside slowly and pushed the button for the garage door. Christine focused her attention on the door as it slammed slowly, making a small thud at the end. “Well, here we are,” he said evilly.
Brett walked to the opposite side of the car where Christine was sitting. “Oh yeah, and I almost forgot, I don’t want you knowing about the rest of this, so…” He took a black hood out of his back pocket and placed it on Christine’s head. Christine shook her head around and threw it through the air, but with no success. Brett slid the black cover over her head swiftly and tied the strings behind it.
The inside of the hood was very dark, so Christine looked around the inside for any signs of light. She even tried to chew on it to see if she could chew herself a hole so she could see what was going on. Brett had watched her the whole time, taking pride and becoming aroused by the sight of Christine’s predicament. “Let’s go,” he finally ordered to her, grabbing her by the arm.
Christine resisted at first, pulling back at his attempts to yank her out of the car. She tried to put her foot against the part of the car where the seatbelt was and the other one firmly on the floor, trying to at least anchor herself. Brett attempted for a little while to try to pull her out, but eventually got fed up with her stubbornness. He went inside the car and held out his hands, making grabbing motions at Christine. Christine retreated her feet quickly from the walls of the car and pulled them over to where she was sitting, crunching herself into a ball. Brett crawled on his hands now, inching closer to her and staring at her the whole time. “Come on, stop fighting me, Christine! Get over here, now!” he shouted at her, crawling closer and closer to where she was sitting.
Christine buried her face in her knees now, not wanting to look at him. Every once in a while, she would lift her head a little and look up, just enough to see where he was, and then she put her head in her knees again. “Get away from me! Can’t you understand that I don’t want to be around you at all?”
Brett was furious. He reached over quickly and grabbed both of her ankles. Christine struggled and kicked her legs so hard that her sandals fell off. He watched as they fell to the floor of his backseat, and then stared up at her bare feet. They were perfect! Her long toes curled just enough that they hit the top of her feet nicely. Her arches were just high enough that he could see where they raised when he looked at the bottoms of her feet. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. “Oh well,” he thought, focusing again on getting Christine out of the car.
He grabbed both of her ankles and dragged her along the seat. Christine tried to reach up and grab the door handle, but realized that her hands were cuffed behind her back. Brett lifted her ankles out of the car and pulled her out of the car to her knees. Christine reached along the seat, trying to pull at the seatbelts or whatever she could use for leverage. He reached into the car and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her from the seat. Christine sat up quickly and ducked her head down as he pulled her quickly from the car. He reached behind her kicked the door to the car shut. He stood behind her and grabbed her by both of her arms. “Come with me,” he ordered.
Christine walked slowly towards the door inside the garage of the old house. She followed her captor’s steps closely, not wanting to trip and make him angrier. Besides, it wasn’t easy for her to escape right now anyway; the black hood still blocked her vision. She could feel the night air against her face as she heard her boots clunk against a concrete path. Brett then led her down the driveway and around the back of the house. Christine realized that the back half of the house was very dark. Along the way, she could hear the whirr of the air conditioner and the many noises of the bugs around her. The wet grass on the ground felt cold against her bare feet. It also didn’t help that the bugs were biting at them as she walked through the freshly cut grass.
Brett let go of one of her arms and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the basement door. He directed Christine to the top of the stairs, and then led her down the first few steps by her arms. He reached behind him and pulled the door shut, locking the handle behind him. “Stand still,” he said coldly to Christine.
He reached behind him and put a board across the back door. He then turned around slowly and grabbed Christine by the arms again. Christine sighed as she submitted to being dragged down the stairs again. “What was that for?” he asked while standing behind her.
“Nothing, nothing, I just…..I’m sorry,” she said through the muffled hood.
“You should be,” he said coldly, gripping her arms a little tighter.
They walked carefully down the stairs. Brett reached over and flipped on a light switch to the first basement room. It was the typical basement at first. Shelves were filled with boxes. A washer and dryer with clothes on a line next to it lined the side wall. The concrete floor was even colder to the touch on Christine’s bare feet and, through the hood, she realized the basement had that antiques-in-storage smell.
He led her around the first room, around the hot water heater, and to a bigger room in the back of the basement. He opened the door to the room and pushed her inside. Christine stumbled forward as she waited for what was next. He shut and locked the door to the room and flipped on the light switch. “Want to see where you are?” he asked her.
Christine nodded her head twice. Brett then reached up and untied the strings of the hood. He pulled it off of her head, making sure not to get it caught on any part of her face as he yanked it from the top of her head. She gasped in deep breaths of fresh air as she finally got to take a look around the room. He then grabbed her by her arm again, interrupting her from her daze. “Hey, let go of me! Take me home! Whatever you’re going to do to me, it won’t work!” she yelled, trying to pull free from him.
“Listen, just because I took the hood off your head doesn’t mean that you’re in charge now. Don’t test me, or I could easily put it back on, or maybe something worse,” he shouted at her, looking into her eyes.
The two of them then walked to the back of the room where Christine saw three tables sitting in a row. She saw that he was leading her towards them, and then eventually she was standing right next to the one in the middle. “Hop on,” he said, nudging her towards it.
He undid her handcuffs and Christine put her arms in front of her, rubbing her wrists a little from the tightness of the cuffs. She jumped up on the high table, sitting awkwardly with her legs stretched out and her arms crossed. He went behind her and grabbed her wrists. Christine resisted at first, pulling her arms away from him, but his strength overpowered her. He pulled her arms tight over her head and locked them into the metal chains hanging from the ceiling. Christine swung back and forth a little as she looked at the ceiling nervously. Brett went over to where her feet sat and pushed them into the wooden stocks at the end of the table. He positioned them in and slammed down the wooden piece and locked it with a padlock. Christine watched as he carefully inspected her. He walked around her about 5 times, carefully looking over the handiwork he had done on her. “So, are you ready?” he asked her.
“Ready? For what?” she replied, looking up at him.
“Oh that’s right, you don’t know yet,” he grinned, “Christine, are you ticklish?”
He watched her face as it turned from a look of fear to a look of absolute horror. “Wh…why do you want to know?” she stuttered, breathing nervously.
“It’s a simple question Christine, yes or no, are you ticklish?”
“No, no I’m not. I’ve never been ticklish,” she replied, looking to the side.
“Well, we’ll just see about that,” he said, lowering his fingers to her ribs.
He sat his fingers on her ribs, pressing them in hard enough that she could feel them. Christine took a deep breath and shut her eyes as she prepared for the inevitable. “Are you ready for your torture?” he asked, resting his chin on her head.
He began by lightly scratching at her ribs. Christine tried in vain to put her arms at her sides, but with no success. She shook her cuffs as she pulled down on her wrists, giggling the entire time. Brett took delight in her attempts to get loose. He moved up on her ribcage a little, almost to the top of her ribs, tickling a little bit faster now. Christine still fought with great vigor, trying to fight back the laughter. “Stooop stop, please stop! It tickles! I can’t take anymore!” she shouted between fits of laughter.
“Aha, so you are ticklish! You lied to me, didn’t you, Christine?” he asked, setting his fingers on her neck now.
Christine scrunched her neck a little, trying to fight back against his touch. “I…I’m sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t mean to? I hate liars, Christine. You know how much I hate liars? I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”
“I said I was sorry! Let me go! Let me out of here!”
“Oh no, Christine, I have a lot planned for you. You see, I have this thing where I like to tickle people.”
“T…tickle?”
“Oh yes, Christine. I like to tickle people all over and watch them scream and laugh as they try to struggle to get away from my grasp. Do you think they ever get away, Christine? Do you think they ever get away from my torturous grasp?”
“N…no,” she said, shaking.
“You’re right, Christine, and guess what else?”
Christine didn’t know what to say to him, so she sat motionless as she looked forward at the wall in front of her. “You’re not going to answer me?” he continued, “Well then, I guess you’ll just have to find out the other way.”
He took his hands swiftly off her neck and placed them on her ribcage again. He started slowly like he did before, but this time dug in deeper than he did before. Christine fought with all her strength to get away from his tickling. She rocked back and forth on the table, swinging her cuffs with her and throwing her head back in insane laughter. “Please…..please! Oh my god…..stop tickling meeee! Stooooop!” she muttered between fits of ticklish laughter.
He tickled her ribs harder than he had the previous time, digging in deeper and deeper with each pass. Christine fought to keep herself together, breathing heavily and struggling to hold onto consciousness. She continually pulled on her legs to try to get them loose enough to get out of the ropes, but came up empty each time. Brett watched her attempts to escape him as he continued to tickle her ribs. Christine grasped for every bit of air she could find in her now laughter-filled world. She threw herself around the table, sometimes jumping up and trying to bounce herself off the wooden bench. Finally, after Christine had broken into silent laughter, he abruptly stopped torturing her.
Christine sat limply upon the table. Her elbows bent and her arms sagged as her wrists pulled down against the ropes on them. She sat back as far as she could to try to get into a comfortable position. “Get…..away….*gasp*….from…me. I…don’t deserve….this. Stop torturing…*gasp*….me.”
“Oh Christine, Christine, Christine, I’ve just barely started. It’s only been about an hour, so we have a long time to go before I’m done with you. For all you know, this could go on all night.”
He backed away from her ribs now and walked over to the edge of the room. He retrieved a stool from one of the corners of the room and placed it at Christine’s feet. Christine watched him, trying to figure out what was going on. He pulled the stool toward him and sat on its wooden seat. He sat for a few seconds before he stood up again. “That’s right, I forgot something. Be back in a second,” he said.
Brett climbed the wooden staircase to the upstairs of the house. He walked around for a minute until he found a black duffel bag sitting on his kitchen table. He grabbed the bag quickly and dashed down the stairs until he reached the room where Christine was held. He arrived just in time to find her pulling frantically on the ropes on her toes. She barely had one of them untied; a few loops of the rope around her big toe were loose from her kicking at it. She stopped abruptly when she saw him out of the corner of her eye. “What were you doing, Christine?” he asked, still standing behind her.
“Nothing, nothing, I was just…”
“Don’t do that too much or you’ll break the stocks,” he chuckled. “Well, I was going to go easy on you since you almost collapsed the first time, but since you decided to try to be an escape artist, I guess I will have to do it my way.”
He went to where the stool was sitting by Christine’s feet and sat down. He set his black bag in his lap and put a cup of water on the floor next to the stool. “First of all,” he said, reaching into his bag, “let’s clean off those feet. I can’t stand what you did to them when you ran through the dirt like you did, Christine.”
When he had finished rummaging, he pulled out an electric toothbrush and threw the bag on the floor. He dipped the brush into the cup of water and turned it on to the slowest setting. Christine watched in fear as he moved it closer to her toes. By the time it had reached her toes, Christine had already scrunched her face up so much that it looked like she had sucked it in with a vacuum. “Ready?” he asked her, holding the brush just millimeters from her toes.
“No,” she squeaked quietly while her lips were pursed tight.
He then pushed the brush gently against her feet. Christine kicked at her big toe for a little while, and then tried to wiggle all of them at once. She could not find any way to move a muscle in her toes against the tight bondage. She could feel the coldness from the water as it scraped at the skin on the base of her toes. She went insane whenever Brett would take the brush and maneuver it systematically in the part where her toes met the top of the sole of her foot. She squeaked at him, laughing uncontrollably at his movements with the brush. She could feel the sensations from the tickles crawling up her legs and into her entire body.
Brett then decided it was time to give the other parts of her feet a turn. He dipped the brush into the cup of water again, giving Christine about five seconds to collect herself. She took in a deep breath and went to exhale when she felt the electric toothbrush on the bottoms of her feet again. This time, Brett had started at her heels and moved it around the base of her heel. Christine tried crazily to put her feet on the table, but all of her strength could not break through the wood of the stocks. Besides, the binds on her toes would constrict against her toes every time she would push down. She bounced her heels as far as she could. She was getting them to go up and down about a millimeter, but it wasn’t enough. Brett followed her movements the whole time with the brush, passing it lazily on her heels on the way up, and then pulling it downward quickly. Christine threw her head about carelessly as she almost passed into silent laughter. Suddenly, Brett stopped tickling. “Having fun?” he asked her, turning off the brush.
“Please…I can’t take….anymore! Don’t…..tickle…my feet! I hate it! It…it kills me!” she said between short, deep breaths.
“Oh, Christine, I’m not even halfway done yet. You see, I still have all this water left. Now, what else can I do?” he said, turning the electric toothbrush on again.
He dipped it in the now lukewarm water and put it in the exact center of Christine’s feet. He swirled it around in one place for a little while, letting the water soak in and then passing over the same spot again. Christine gripped the top of the rope that held her arms and clasped her hands together until her knuckles were almost pure white. She pulled as tight as she could to get free from the ropes that held her, trying to inch her way out of the tight bondage. Christine made a few faces to try to distract herself from the tickling and to try her hardest not to laugh. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction again. He reached over and scribbled his fingers along the sole of her other foot at the same time. Christine waited a few seconds, chuckling softly and puffing her cheeks up. She then exploded into a fit of laughter. Brett looked up from tickling her feet for a second so he could stare at the reactions on her face. Christine was absolutely ballistic. Her face was dripping with sweat and her hair was matted all over the front of her face. Her mouth was wide open as the laughter escaped rapidly from her vocal cords. She shook her head violently, banging it on both of her arms, one at a time. “Well, I think I finally cleaned them off well enough,” Brett said, putting down the electric toothbrush.
He stood in front of her for a while, just staring at her. Her hair was still a mess and her face was glowing with sweat. Her elbows were bent as far as they could be, so her arms sagged as she flexed her fingers every few seconds. The soles of her feet were still a little tingly from the merciless torture. Christine just stared blankly at him, a mix of fear and anger filled the expression on her face. “What’s that look for?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“Screw….you….” she mouthed, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful. Is that any way to talk to someone?” He cocked his head and looked down at his watch, looking toward the stairs. “It doesn’t matter; I have something else I have to do anyway.
Brett ran out of the little room, locking the door behind him. He could hear Christine’s deep screams echoing behind him as he ran up the stairs and into the kitchen. It was time for lunch anyway, he thought, I’ll deal with her later.
WARNING! Very non-con! If offended, please turn away! If not, enjoy! I wrote this during finals time, which was very emotional for *everyone*, so that's why I was debating on posting this.
Belleville News-Democrat: March 31, 2006: The Belleville Police have issued a warning for the entire St. Clair County to be on the look out for a white Caucasian male, about 5’10, 190 lb., 42 years old, dark hair, green eyes, no facial hair, and glasses. He has an earring in his right ear and a noticeable scar on his left hand that looks like a knife wound. Police say that he is from around the area. He was last spotted about 7:30 this morning by a woman who was jogging. She told Belleville police that the man stopped to the side of her and rolled down his driver side window. The victim told police that he asked her to “come over to his car. He said he was lost and has to ask me for directions. I paid no attention to him at first, but he kept on persisting.”
The victim then reported that the suspect kept following her in his car for about 5 more blocks. She then began to run away, which made him pursue even faster. At one instant, he opened his door with the car still moving, trying to sideswipe her while trying to hit her with his car door. The police report reads that she stepped to the side to block it, and then ran through several yards to try to escape. The suspect then drove through several alleys, allegedly colliding with some parked vehicles. The woman reports that during this time, she then ran to a house nearby to dodge the suspect. Once the owners answered the door, she then went inside to call the police, who then instructed one of her close friends to come get her. The woman was also treated by the local paramedics, who found no injuries on her. Local law enforcement is urging all residents to be on the lookout for this man or any suspicious activity of this nature.
-----Report by Beth Howard
Christine walked quickly down the old dirt road that lead to her house. It was the fastest way home, but that didn’t help with the fact that it looked dark and uninhabited. The houses were a few hundred feet from the road, rows of corn filled the distance between the two. It didn’t help her any either that there was barely any light on the roadway, either. The few streetlights that ran along the small lane were flashing or dim and only lit a small radius underneath them. Christine tried to stay in between these patches, looking over her shoulder the whole time to make sure nothing was following behind her. She folded her arms and rubbed her shoulders as she walked, quickening her pace and then slowing down to catch her breath. The night air was very chilly to her skin, even though she was wearing jeans and brown boots and a jacket. She stuck her hands in her pockets for extra warmth, slouching down as she continued home.
Christine hated walking home from work by herself, but it was the only way. Even though she was a freshman at the local community college, she had not yet earned enough money to buy her own car. The school was just right down the road, so it was not that far of a walk from her house, but it sure felt that way when the sun went down and she was all alone. Her new job as a computer lab assistant was pretty easy, all she had to do was watch people play on the computer while she did her homework. It sounded like the ideal job to her, even though the lab closed at 10 PM every night, which meant that she would have to take that short walk alone and in the dark. (IMPROVE)
She was walking slowly, shuffling her feet on the ground, when she heard a car coming up quickly behind her. She turned her head to see who it was, but didn’t recognize the shape. The worst thing about it was the car seemed to be veering to the side of the road, closer and closer to where she was walking. She stopped walking and stood on the side of the road, facing toward the approaching vehicle. They turned on their brights at her, nearly blinding the poor girl and forcing her to cup her hands over her eyes. Christine noticed that the closer they got to her, the more the headlights began to fan out in front of her. She turned her head towards the car once it passed, trying to see who was in the passenger seat or the driver seat. It drove slowly past her, as if it was watching her. The inside of the car looked black to her: she couldn’t see who was driving or who else was in the car. Whoever it was, Christine gave them an evil look of disgust as they drove past her. She followed the car with her eyes, trying to get the number of the license plate on the back of the car to see if she recognized the person, but noticed there wasn’t any form of identification. She just turned herself toward the front of the road and stayed focused on getting home now. She tightened the string around the hood on her jacket and put her hands in her pockets while she strolled her way closer to her residence, still wary of what had happened.
A few feet had passed in front of her. She was still looking down at the ground in front of her, when all of a sudden, she heard the screech of tires behind her. Paying no attention to what was going on, she didn’t step to the side when the same black car came barreling back down the road in reverse. It cut right in front of her and jackknifed to the side so that the driver’s side door was directly in front of her. She could hear screaming within the car and then the sound of a door opening. Without realizing it, Christine was struck in the leg by the bottom of the slammed-open door. She immediately fell to the ground, rolling over onto her back. Christine struggled to get to her feet, frantically kicking her legs and trying hard to sit up.
“Well well well, I finally got one!” the driver of the car said joyously.
“What did you do that for? What do you want from me?” she screamed, rolling onto her stomach.
“Oh no, you’re not getting away from me! Not this time, not again!”
He then put the car in park and climbed out of the car. He walked up to her and grabbed both of her arms and pulled her up. Christine responded by shaking around violently, pulling back on his grip. “Let go of me, let go of me you psycho! I hate you! Get away from me! Help, I’m being kidnapped! HELP!” she cried out.
“It’s no use, Christine,” he said, smiling at her, “I’ve got you now! There’s no escape for you! Give up, or things will get harder for you!”
He stood her up, pulling on her arms so she would rise to her feet. Christine was still struggling, but he had a firm grip that wouldn’t let go. “Not this again! You can’t have me, I won’t go!”
“You have no choice now; you’re….coming….with….me!”
He lifted her into the air by her waist and pushed her into the back of his black sedan. Making sure he took all the precautions, he looked at the child locks on the doors as he pushed her inside. Christine tried to jump out the partially opened door as he was slamming it, but it was too late. She banged her head against the door at the last minute. Christine sat back in the seat and rubbed her forehead, crying softly as she pounded her fist on the window. She coldly looked at him, her facial expression screaming with anger. “Let me out of here! What are you doing to me? I don’t deserve this!” she shouted, glaring at him and testing the door handles.
Brett laughed at the sounds of her fighting as he walked over to the side of the car to the driver’s side. He turned around and looked over at her before he finally got in the vehicle. Christine gave him a look as she slammed her fist on the window, shaking the glass. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he told her, getting inside, shutting his door, and buckling his seatbelt, “We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, now would we?”
Christine took a deep breath as she sat back in the cloth seats. She didn’t quite know what was in store for her, but she just looked out the window the whole time, watching the world pass by her as she was trapped inside the automobile. “So what do you want from me?” she asked desperately, her hands pressed against the Plexiglas that separated the front from the back.
“You’ll soon find out,” he replied, already feeling the tightness in his pants from thinking about Christine’s fate, “I have something fun planned for the both of us.”
They drove down the long, unpaved road for miles, passing deeper and deeper into the forest that was outside of town. Christine continued to look around nonchalantly, trying to find some kind of escape route, at least a window or a broken door, but came up with nothing each time. Finally, her captor noticed her out of the corner of his eye. “What are you doing back there?” he asked, staring at her in the rearview mirror.
“Nothing…..why?” she replied, putting the palms of her hands on the bench seat quickly and looking towards him.
“Oh, no reason, just….”
He abruptly swerved the car over to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. He thrusted the car into park and slammed open his door. Christine watched closely the whole time he was outside of the car. She saw him go around to the trunk and pop it open. She couldn’t see what he pulled out, but she had a hunch that it was for her. She saw him close the trunk and Christine immediately turned around to the front, facing the windshield. Brett walked up to the side of the car and stared at Christine through the window in the back seat. Christine didn’t react at all, sitting as still as an English palace guard, focusing on the scene in front of her. Brett opened up the back door and looked at Christine. Christine turned her head slowly so she was eventually looking eye to eye with her abductor. He slowly reached over for the door handle and opened it just enough so he could reach inside. With one hand, he reached over for Christine’s arm and grabbed onto it. Christine tried to pull away, but before she could, Brett had one cuff from the handcuffs placed around her wrists. “Let go of me! Stop it! Don’t handcuff me!” Christine cried desperately.
She twisted around in her seat, trying to prevent Brett from placing the cuffs on her wrists. “Hold still!” he yelled at her.
Brett then grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him. Christine tried to struggle, but somehow couldn’t move a muscle. “Listen you!” he demanded, pulling her to him and looking into her eyes, “You will do exactly as I tell you, otherwise, this will get harder for you and you won’t like it.”
Christine sniffled and lowered her head a little as she submitted to having the cuffs put on her wrists. He locked the handcuffs and tossed Christine. She rolled to the other side of the car seat and put her face into the crease in the cloth of the bench. Christine slowly rolled over and pulled herself up slowly to a sitting position. She watched Brett closely as he got back into the vehicle and continued driving like nothing had happened.
Christine sat up straight in the backseat, clanking the metal of her handcuffs together. She didn’t want to make her abductor any angrier than he already was. He was already hitting the steering wheel and mumbling to himself, she didn’t want to make him any worse.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of sitting in the backseat with the cuffs on, she noticed that they had finally pulled up to a house. It was the typical house in the middle of nowhere. The driveway was about 500 feet long with a forest surrounding it and a fence lined the edge of the driveway. Christine looked around and realized she had no idea where she was, even though she had been paying attention as much as she could. The farmhouse was two stories tall and made out of brick. A front porch of the house was the first thing that was noticeable to all of its visitors. Christine also noticed that there were lots of flowers and landscaping that surrounded the house too, which she thought was unusual for a kidnapper.
Brett pulled the car down the rest of the long driveway and opened the garage door. He drove the car inside slowly and pushed the button for the garage door. Christine focused her attention on the door as it slammed slowly, making a small thud at the end. “Well, here we are,” he said evilly.
Brett walked to the opposite side of the car where Christine was sitting. “Oh yeah, and I almost forgot, I don’t want you knowing about the rest of this, so…” He took a black hood out of his back pocket and placed it on Christine’s head. Christine shook her head around and threw it through the air, but with no success. Brett slid the black cover over her head swiftly and tied the strings behind it.
The inside of the hood was very dark, so Christine looked around the inside for any signs of light. She even tried to chew on it to see if she could chew herself a hole so she could see what was going on. Brett had watched her the whole time, taking pride and becoming aroused by the sight of Christine’s predicament. “Let’s go,” he finally ordered to her, grabbing her by the arm.
Christine resisted at first, pulling back at his attempts to yank her out of the car. She tried to put her foot against the part of the car where the seatbelt was and the other one firmly on the floor, trying to at least anchor herself. Brett attempted for a little while to try to pull her out, but eventually got fed up with her stubbornness. He went inside the car and held out his hands, making grabbing motions at Christine. Christine retreated her feet quickly from the walls of the car and pulled them over to where she was sitting, crunching herself into a ball. Brett crawled on his hands now, inching closer to her and staring at her the whole time. “Come on, stop fighting me, Christine! Get over here, now!” he shouted at her, crawling closer and closer to where she was sitting.
Christine buried her face in her knees now, not wanting to look at him. Every once in a while, she would lift her head a little and look up, just enough to see where he was, and then she put her head in her knees again. “Get away from me! Can’t you understand that I don’t want to be around you at all?”
Brett was furious. He reached over quickly and grabbed both of her ankles. Christine struggled and kicked her legs so hard that her sandals fell off. He watched as they fell to the floor of his backseat, and then stared up at her bare feet. They were perfect! Her long toes curled just enough that they hit the top of her feet nicely. Her arches were just high enough that he could see where they raised when he looked at the bottoms of her feet. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. “Oh well,” he thought, focusing again on getting Christine out of the car.
He grabbed both of her ankles and dragged her along the seat. Christine tried to reach up and grab the door handle, but realized that her hands were cuffed behind her back. Brett lifted her ankles out of the car and pulled her out of the car to her knees. Christine reached along the seat, trying to pull at the seatbelts or whatever she could use for leverage. He reached into the car and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her from the seat. Christine sat up quickly and ducked her head down as he pulled her quickly from the car. He reached behind her kicked the door to the car shut. He stood behind her and grabbed her by both of her arms. “Come with me,” he ordered.
Christine walked slowly towards the door inside the garage of the old house. She followed her captor’s steps closely, not wanting to trip and make him angrier. Besides, it wasn’t easy for her to escape right now anyway; the black hood still blocked her vision. She could feel the night air against her face as she heard her boots clunk against a concrete path. Brett then led her down the driveway and around the back of the house. Christine realized that the back half of the house was very dark. Along the way, she could hear the whirr of the air conditioner and the many noises of the bugs around her. The wet grass on the ground felt cold against her bare feet. It also didn’t help that the bugs were biting at them as she walked through the freshly cut grass.
Brett let go of one of her arms and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the basement door. He directed Christine to the top of the stairs, and then led her down the first few steps by her arms. He reached behind him and pulled the door shut, locking the handle behind him. “Stand still,” he said coldly to Christine.
He reached behind him and put a board across the back door. He then turned around slowly and grabbed Christine by the arms again. Christine sighed as she submitted to being dragged down the stairs again. “What was that for?” he asked while standing behind her.
“Nothing, nothing, I just…..I’m sorry,” she said through the muffled hood.
“You should be,” he said coldly, gripping her arms a little tighter.
They walked carefully down the stairs. Brett reached over and flipped on a light switch to the first basement room. It was the typical basement at first. Shelves were filled with boxes. A washer and dryer with clothes on a line next to it lined the side wall. The concrete floor was even colder to the touch on Christine’s bare feet and, through the hood, she realized the basement had that antiques-in-storage smell.
He led her around the first room, around the hot water heater, and to a bigger room in the back of the basement. He opened the door to the room and pushed her inside. Christine stumbled forward as she waited for what was next. He shut and locked the door to the room and flipped on the light switch. “Want to see where you are?” he asked her.
Christine nodded her head twice. Brett then reached up and untied the strings of the hood. He pulled it off of her head, making sure not to get it caught on any part of her face as he yanked it from the top of her head. She gasped in deep breaths of fresh air as she finally got to take a look around the room. He then grabbed her by her arm again, interrupting her from her daze. “Hey, let go of me! Take me home! Whatever you’re going to do to me, it won’t work!” she yelled, trying to pull free from him.
“Listen, just because I took the hood off your head doesn’t mean that you’re in charge now. Don’t test me, or I could easily put it back on, or maybe something worse,” he shouted at her, looking into her eyes.
The two of them then walked to the back of the room where Christine saw three tables sitting in a row. She saw that he was leading her towards them, and then eventually she was standing right next to the one in the middle. “Hop on,” he said, nudging her towards it.
He undid her handcuffs and Christine put her arms in front of her, rubbing her wrists a little from the tightness of the cuffs. She jumped up on the high table, sitting awkwardly with her legs stretched out and her arms crossed. He went behind her and grabbed her wrists. Christine resisted at first, pulling her arms away from him, but his strength overpowered her. He pulled her arms tight over her head and locked them into the metal chains hanging from the ceiling. Christine swung back and forth a little as she looked at the ceiling nervously. Brett went over to where her feet sat and pushed them into the wooden stocks at the end of the table. He positioned them in and slammed down the wooden piece and locked it with a padlock. Christine watched as he carefully inspected her. He walked around her about 5 times, carefully looking over the handiwork he had done on her. “So, are you ready?” he asked her.
“Ready? For what?” she replied, looking up at him.
“Oh that’s right, you don’t know yet,” he grinned, “Christine, are you ticklish?”
He watched her face as it turned from a look of fear to a look of absolute horror. “Wh…why do you want to know?” she stuttered, breathing nervously.
“It’s a simple question Christine, yes or no, are you ticklish?”
“No, no I’m not. I’ve never been ticklish,” she replied, looking to the side.
“Well, we’ll just see about that,” he said, lowering his fingers to her ribs.
He sat his fingers on her ribs, pressing them in hard enough that she could feel them. Christine took a deep breath and shut her eyes as she prepared for the inevitable. “Are you ready for your torture?” he asked, resting his chin on her head.
He began by lightly scratching at her ribs. Christine tried in vain to put her arms at her sides, but with no success. She shook her cuffs as she pulled down on her wrists, giggling the entire time. Brett took delight in her attempts to get loose. He moved up on her ribcage a little, almost to the top of her ribs, tickling a little bit faster now. Christine still fought with great vigor, trying to fight back the laughter. “Stooop stop, please stop! It tickles! I can’t take anymore!” she shouted between fits of laughter.
“Aha, so you are ticklish! You lied to me, didn’t you, Christine?” he asked, setting his fingers on her neck now.
Christine scrunched her neck a little, trying to fight back against his touch. “I…I’m sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t mean to? I hate liars, Christine. You know how much I hate liars? I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”
“I said I was sorry! Let me go! Let me out of here!”
“Oh no, Christine, I have a lot planned for you. You see, I have this thing where I like to tickle people.”
“T…tickle?”
“Oh yes, Christine. I like to tickle people all over and watch them scream and laugh as they try to struggle to get away from my grasp. Do you think they ever get away, Christine? Do you think they ever get away from my torturous grasp?”
“N…no,” she said, shaking.
“You’re right, Christine, and guess what else?”
Christine didn’t know what to say to him, so she sat motionless as she looked forward at the wall in front of her. “You’re not going to answer me?” he continued, “Well then, I guess you’ll just have to find out the other way.”
He took his hands swiftly off her neck and placed them on her ribcage again. He started slowly like he did before, but this time dug in deeper than he did before. Christine fought with all her strength to get away from his tickling. She rocked back and forth on the table, swinging her cuffs with her and throwing her head back in insane laughter. “Please…..please! Oh my god…..stop tickling meeee! Stooooop!” she muttered between fits of ticklish laughter.
He tickled her ribs harder than he had the previous time, digging in deeper and deeper with each pass. Christine fought to keep herself together, breathing heavily and struggling to hold onto consciousness. She continually pulled on her legs to try to get them loose enough to get out of the ropes, but came up empty each time. Brett watched her attempts to escape him as he continued to tickle her ribs. Christine grasped for every bit of air she could find in her now laughter-filled world. She threw herself around the table, sometimes jumping up and trying to bounce herself off the wooden bench. Finally, after Christine had broken into silent laughter, he abruptly stopped torturing her.
Christine sat limply upon the table. Her elbows bent and her arms sagged as her wrists pulled down against the ropes on them. She sat back as far as she could to try to get into a comfortable position. “Get…..away….*gasp*….from…me. I…don’t deserve….this. Stop torturing…*gasp*….me.”
“Oh Christine, Christine, Christine, I’ve just barely started. It’s only been about an hour, so we have a long time to go before I’m done with you. For all you know, this could go on all night.”
He backed away from her ribs now and walked over to the edge of the room. He retrieved a stool from one of the corners of the room and placed it at Christine’s feet. Christine watched him, trying to figure out what was going on. He pulled the stool toward him and sat on its wooden seat. He sat for a few seconds before he stood up again. “That’s right, I forgot something. Be back in a second,” he said.
Brett climbed the wooden staircase to the upstairs of the house. He walked around for a minute until he found a black duffel bag sitting on his kitchen table. He grabbed the bag quickly and dashed down the stairs until he reached the room where Christine was held. He arrived just in time to find her pulling frantically on the ropes on her toes. She barely had one of them untied; a few loops of the rope around her big toe were loose from her kicking at it. She stopped abruptly when she saw him out of the corner of her eye. “What were you doing, Christine?” he asked, still standing behind her.
“Nothing, nothing, I was just…”
“Don’t do that too much or you’ll break the stocks,” he chuckled. “Well, I was going to go easy on you since you almost collapsed the first time, but since you decided to try to be an escape artist, I guess I will have to do it my way.”
He went to where the stool was sitting by Christine’s feet and sat down. He set his black bag in his lap and put a cup of water on the floor next to the stool. “First of all,” he said, reaching into his bag, “let’s clean off those feet. I can’t stand what you did to them when you ran through the dirt like you did, Christine.”
When he had finished rummaging, he pulled out an electric toothbrush and threw the bag on the floor. He dipped the brush into the cup of water and turned it on to the slowest setting. Christine watched in fear as he moved it closer to her toes. By the time it had reached her toes, Christine had already scrunched her face up so much that it looked like she had sucked it in with a vacuum. “Ready?” he asked her, holding the brush just millimeters from her toes.
“No,” she squeaked quietly while her lips were pursed tight.
He then pushed the brush gently against her feet. Christine kicked at her big toe for a little while, and then tried to wiggle all of them at once. She could not find any way to move a muscle in her toes against the tight bondage. She could feel the coldness from the water as it scraped at the skin on the base of her toes. She went insane whenever Brett would take the brush and maneuver it systematically in the part where her toes met the top of the sole of her foot. She squeaked at him, laughing uncontrollably at his movements with the brush. She could feel the sensations from the tickles crawling up her legs and into her entire body.
Brett then decided it was time to give the other parts of her feet a turn. He dipped the brush into the cup of water again, giving Christine about five seconds to collect herself. She took in a deep breath and went to exhale when she felt the electric toothbrush on the bottoms of her feet again. This time, Brett had started at her heels and moved it around the base of her heel. Christine tried crazily to put her feet on the table, but all of her strength could not break through the wood of the stocks. Besides, the binds on her toes would constrict against her toes every time she would push down. She bounced her heels as far as she could. She was getting them to go up and down about a millimeter, but it wasn’t enough. Brett followed her movements the whole time with the brush, passing it lazily on her heels on the way up, and then pulling it downward quickly. Christine threw her head about carelessly as she almost passed into silent laughter. Suddenly, Brett stopped tickling. “Having fun?” he asked her, turning off the brush.
“Please…I can’t take….anymore! Don’t…..tickle…my feet! I hate it! It…it kills me!” she said between short, deep breaths.
“Oh, Christine, I’m not even halfway done yet. You see, I still have all this water left. Now, what else can I do?” he said, turning the electric toothbrush on again.
He dipped it in the now lukewarm water and put it in the exact center of Christine’s feet. He swirled it around in one place for a little while, letting the water soak in and then passing over the same spot again. Christine gripped the top of the rope that held her arms and clasped her hands together until her knuckles were almost pure white. She pulled as tight as she could to get free from the ropes that held her, trying to inch her way out of the tight bondage. Christine made a few faces to try to distract herself from the tickling and to try her hardest not to laugh. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction again. He reached over and scribbled his fingers along the sole of her other foot at the same time. Christine waited a few seconds, chuckling softly and puffing her cheeks up. She then exploded into a fit of laughter. Brett looked up from tickling her feet for a second so he could stare at the reactions on her face. Christine was absolutely ballistic. Her face was dripping with sweat and her hair was matted all over the front of her face. Her mouth was wide open as the laughter escaped rapidly from her vocal cords. She shook her head violently, banging it on both of her arms, one at a time. “Well, I think I finally cleaned them off well enough,” Brett said, putting down the electric toothbrush.
He stood in front of her for a while, just staring at her. Her hair was still a mess and her face was glowing with sweat. Her elbows were bent as far as they could be, so her arms sagged as she flexed her fingers every few seconds. The soles of her feet were still a little tingly from the merciless torture. Christine just stared blankly at him, a mix of fear and anger filled the expression on her face. “What’s that look for?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“Screw….you….” she mouthed, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful. Is that any way to talk to someone?” He cocked his head and looked down at his watch, looking toward the stairs. “It doesn’t matter; I have something else I have to do anyway.
Brett ran out of the little room, locking the door behind him. He could hear Christine’s deep screams echoing behind him as he ran up the stairs and into the kitchen. It was time for lunch anyway, he thought, I’ll deal with her later.
