Dave2112
Level of Cherry Feather
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2001
- Messages
- 10,293
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Blaire Constantine sat at her desk, wondering how to proceed in the matter laid before her. A crime with proof was easy to investigate, but this one was different. It was hard to tell whether she had a crime on her hands or not. It could just be a prank or a seriously twisted piece of entertainment. She looked again at the harmless seeming videotape and wondered. People were capable of some strange shit, but she needed to know if this was illegal, or just a case of personal tastes.
She picked up the innocuous looking videotape and once again headed for the AV room of the precinct. It was her task to decide if the video was illegal or simply weird. If it turned out to be an illegal shoot, she would head up the task force to see where it came from. The tape itself fell into her hands through a long series of strange twists. It apparently started out in a local Adult Video store, then to a friend of the renter, after that to a friend of his and then into the hands of Crystal City’s Police force. How it got to the Adult Store in the first place remained a mystery. The owner swore that it just showed up in a box of tapes he’d ordered from one of his supply companies. The man who turned it in claimed that something didn’t seem right about it. Both men had passed a lie-detector test, so there were two dead ends. The owner was more than happy to supply the police with other tapes with which to do a comparison.
The comparison was necessary, as the tape in question could very well be the documented kidnapping of an innocent citizen. Blaire shuddered as she slipped the video into the VCR for the fourth time today. There was something about the scene that didn’t sit right with her. It was too real, too creepy. The other tapes she shrugged off as poor acting and even poorer moral fiber, scene after scene of something she just couldn’t understand. Women tied up in various positions and tickled by either men or in some cases other women. Harmless, but strange to Blaire nonetheless. Why anyone would volunteer to be restrained and tormented in such a way was beyond her. She knew that she’d never even think about it.
But the tape in question….that was another story. As she watched it again, she felt the chill up her spine return. Unlike the other colorfully made and well-lighted movies, this one was grainy and in black-and-white. The camera moved around a lot as if it were held by hand, up until the middle of the film, where it was obviously set upon a tripod or something. It showed a young woman gang-tackled by three men. Throughout the course of the first part of the film, the terrified looking girl was bound, gagged and roughly stripped of her clothing. The film cut back and forth after that, with no talking from any of the ski-masked men and scene upon scene of the young woman tied in various positions and mercilessly tickled.
Besides the setting and style, there was something else that separated this from the other tapes. The tickling wasn’t playful, erotic or even cheesy as in a few of them. It was cruel, hard and continuous. The laughter of the possible victim turned quickly to screams and crying, begging and pleading. If this was real the poor girl needed help, if she were even still alive.
Watching more intently every time, Blaire noticed a few things. The clothing of the girl could identify her as a prostitute, as she was dressed for more than just a stroll when she was taken. The place she was held in was nondescript in any way, appearing to be an old shack. One scene showed a window in which trees could clearly be seen. The fact that the window was not covered told her that it was either staged, or that the place was so far out of the way as not to attract any attention.
As she watched again, she quickly snatched up the remote and paused the tape. There it was…the clue she’d been looking for! There was a brief shot of the van that the girl was placed in, and something caught her attention that had escaped it before. In the side-view mirror was the quick flash of a street sign. The paused tape showed it as a blur, but if she could get it enhanced and reversed to account for the mirror image, she might have a slim lead.
The technician in video enhancement turned out to be about the only cooperative person in the entire precinct, however. Even armed with the name of the street, McAllister, a known hooker hang-out, the reception to her theory was less than warm. It was only a kinky video, her captain told her, and a waste of resources. If there was more she could glean from the tape, they’d talk again. But for now it was a no-go. The classic need for more evidence to free up funds and overtime. Great time for politics, she thought, as some girl could be dead or even worse…still being held against her will and tortured.
The more Blaire watched the horrible tape, the more she convinced herself that it was real. She was determined to find out, even if it meant a little investigation on her own time. That time came quickly.
Blaire found herself in a position she’d been in before, but without the back-up she was used to having. Dressed as a street-walker, she strolled up and down McAllister Street among the other ladies of the evening. This would be more difficult than a regulation prostitution sting. She was looking for a specific “john”, and had to avoid the other men who started to pull their cars to the curb to talk her up. If the guys she was looking for were out there, they were looking for one thing. She dressed the part in a ploy to appear as attractive as possible to someone after a tickling victim. Her 32-year-old body was dressed in white half-shirt, her firm breasts pushing against the thin fabric. The short skirt she wore barely covered her buttocks, showing off her long shapely legs. Her feet were encased in high-heeled shoes with barely-there straps. Her red hair was up and her pretty face was made up in the just-a-bit-too-much style of professional players. A feather boa finished the outfit, hopefully sending a subliminal signal to whom she was after. Her gun was in her shoulder purse, having nowhere else to hide it. She’d have to rely on speed and training, but she was confident.
It wasn’t until the seventh evening that she saw the van. It was unmistakable as the one from the video. Endless viewing had pointed out a distinctive rust spot on the front passenger panel, one that matched this one perfectly. She strutted her stuff, praying to catch their attention.
The van slowly rolled to a stop beside her. The passenger window rolled down. She was expecting and hoping to see who was behind that window, but the only thing she saw was an arm, pointing toward an alleyway around the corner.
This was it, she thought, calming herself. Who else would lead a hooker to an alleyway than someone looking to kidnap her? It had to be him.
Them, she reminded herself, her hand slipping under her feather boa and resting nonchalantly on her bag. The latch was unclasped and the bag partially open, but out of sight. It would take her two seconds to get it out.
Walking into the alleyway, she heard the van roll in a few seconds after. The two homeless people curled against the wall didn’t move, preferring to huddle deeper into their tattered coats. They’d probably seen it all and wanted no trouble. The engine still running, a man stepped out of the passenger side of the van. A man wearing a black ski-mask. Blaire reached into her bag and in one smooth motion brought her small but powerful Sig-Sauer firearm to bear. Forcing the man back against the alley wall, she kept one eye on the door of the van, knowing that others could spill out at any moment.
“Where’s the girl, you slime?” Blaire asked through clenched teeth as she pointed the gun at the man’s head. He had his hands up, palms out. With him offering no resistance, she sensed a ploy to get her attention away from the van.
“Everyone out, or I’m gonna splatter this asshole’s brains all over the wall! I’m not fucking around….NOW!!!”
The sound of her voice had apparently convinced the two street dwellers to avoid this confrontation and find shelter elsewhere. Blaire knew she had to contain the situation and get the bystanders out if they were going to be moving about.
“Ok, boys,” she said, her gun still trained on the masked man, “time to move on. Find a dumpster somewhere else, this doesn’t concern you.”
The two shambled down the alley. It was right when they were both behind her that Blaire realized her fatal mistake. The man’s cohorts weren’t in the van. They were hiding in plain sight.
She never had time to bring the weapon to bear as the two men grabbed her with brutal force. The sidearm clattered against the broken concrete as she saw the ski-masks the men were wearing under their tattered hoods. The van door was opened and before she could formulate a plan, she felt several strong arms holding her down and wrapping thick tape around her wrists and ankles. The same tape was placed over her mouth and eyes, rendering her helpless and fuming at herself to boot.
As the van sped off, she mentally kicked herself for not figuring this out. There were four, as she’d expected. But only two were in the van. The driver and the one who’d pointed to the alley. The other two were dressed as bums, proving to her with no doubt that the tape she’d studied was real. And for them to set this up, they had to have known that someone was on to them. But how? And would she ever find out? It seemed that her detective skills were not going to do her much good. There were two things that they could do to her. They could be taking her somewhere to be killed…or they could be taking her to the shack in the woods. If they were going to kill her, why not do it in the alley and speed off? This wasn’t looking good. But at least she was still alive and she might have a chance later if she could play it right. One step at a time, she told herself, and don’t panic. You’re a Police Officer for shit’s sake and that other girl may need you help.
The ride took longer than Blaire could have imagined as she felt the smooth road turn to a bumpy pass and then to the crunching of sticks and leaves as the tell-tale signs of off-road travel presented themselves. For well over an hour the van traveled further and further away from safety. She lost track of the turns a long time ago.
And her kidnappers were silent. Not one word passed between them. She couldn’t see if they were perhaps sharing signals, but it was moot at this point. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt the van roll to a stop.
There was no order for her cooperation or any kind of threat. She was lifted out of the van and slung over the shoulder of one of her abductors. Carried for what she figured to be about a hundred yards, she heard a creaky door open and cried out as she was dumped off the shoulder of the mystery man. She braced herself for a long fall, but she only dropped about two feet. They must have laid her on a table or bench or something. Through it all, she heard something else.
Whimpering.
Blaire wished that she could at least see. She had to know if the pitiful sound came from the girl in the video. Her wish was granted sooner than she thought as the sticky tape was roughly torn from her eyes. The sight she saw almost made her wish it was back on.
She saw the source of the whimpering and it was as she’d feared. It was the young blonde girl from the tape. She was wearing nothing but a cloth blindfold and a thick tape-gag. Her slim body was stretched to its limit, gravity exerting itself on her hanging form. A hook in the wooden ceiling held thick ropes that were wrapped around the girl’s ankles. Her arms were extended toward the floor, wrists tied together and lashed to a metal loop bolted to the floor. The sounds coming from the helpless girl weren’t the screams Blaire expected, but a subdued moaning that seemed out of place. Of course, the girl couldn’t see her, but Blaire’s own gagged sounds must have let her know that another was here.
Blaire had little time to contemplate this, as four pairs of hands went to work on her. She was no match for the rough treatment as her clothing was torn off. Her tiny panties were all that were left her, so at least she wouldn’t be raped, she thought. Yet, anyway. She was cruelly flipped on her back as she felt two hands on each limb. It happened so fast that she had little time to fight even if she could. By the time the four men were finished with her she couldn’t move. It was a small table that she was on, the size of it perfect for the bondage she was in. Her arms and legs were bent under it, her elbows and knees resting at either edge. While she was being tied, something soft but large was placed under the small of her back. Her wrists were lashed together, as were her ankles. A rope ran between the bindings of her hands and feet under the table, rendering her immobile. The object under her back, a pillow from the feel of it, arched her body upward, extending her ribs, flattening her stomach and making any struggle futile.
The men were in a corner of the place talking in hushed tones while Blaire tested her bonds. No way, she thought. She was at their mercy. After a short period of time, one of the men approached her. She heard his voice for the first time, and was not surprised to find it electronically disguised. The deep robotic sound sent a shudder through her helpless body.
“I hope you have found what you were looking for, Miss Constantine.”
He knew her! Who the fuck was under that mask?
“Yes, we know you. Or of you, as the case may be. Let’s just say that several of our customers are closer to you than you’d think.”
Customers? Is that what this was all about?
“Your little mind working overtime?” the metallic voice asked, “let me fill you in.”
The black-clad man circled around the table she was so cruelly tied to and stroked a stray piece of her red hair out of her face.
“Call it modern entertainment,” he continued, “as you could see from the video that fell into your hands, this is actually rather simple. You’ve seen how large an audience that tickling videos have. Non-consensual torment is more or less the Holy Grail of this form of entertainment. Similar to snuff films, you might say. Rumors of their existence only add to the price people will pay to see them. It’s nothing to make a thousand dollars from the sale of only one of these.”
She craned her neck to see what the other men were up to, and to her horror she saw them setting up two video cameras. One pointed at the suspended young woman, judging from the angle…
…and one pointed right at her.
“Shhhh….” said her abductor as she screamed into the tape over her mouth, “You are not going anywhere.”
She felt the table being turned as two of the men, finished with their grisly production set-up, rotated her so that she could see the helpless girl hanging from the ceiling.
“You are staying here, immobile,” he went on, “and you will be tickled hard for the enjoyment of our less-than-noble customers. That is all you need to know.”
Those were the last words she heard from her captor. Two of the men went over to the hanging blonde and placed their hands on her body. The mere touch of the hands brought a new series of muffled screams from the poor girl. From the look of her body, Blaire judged her to be no more than mid-twenties. Her breasts were still firm enough to stand up to the pull of gravity, and her skin was flawless. Her blond hair was long and straight, and although she couldn’t see the girl’s face, she must have been pretty for the men to have chosen her. Not too many ugly prostitutes getting continuous work.
The girl’s body trembled and she yelled again into the gag as the men started to trail their fingers down the sides of her body. From her bound ankles to her tied wrists, they tickled her every inch of the way. There was no mercy as the tormentors caused the tied girl to wriggle violently against her strict bondage. Blaire couldn’t imagine what the poor thing was going through as she was tickled in a way Blaire had never known possible. The hands of the men dug into her tender sides and ribs. There was no respite for the girl as her smooth armpits were stroked over and over. The men relented in their poking and prodding attack long enough to flutter their fingers over the sensitive skin. Blaire could see the muscles of the young woman’s arms strain to pull against her bonds. The ropes held her tight, however, leaving her stretched and helpless before two sadistic torturers.
Blaire’s horror at the sight she was privy to was short-lived, her own terror rising as the remaining two men approached her.
Get the fuck away from me, her first thought, never made it to her lips, stopped by the layers and layers of thick sticky tape. One of the man stood on either side of her. Blaire braced herself as she felt two sets of hands drifting down her arms from the elbows. The light touch was maddening, and fear grabbed hold of her as they slowly found their way to her exposed armpits. Wriggling over the sensitive stretched skin, the tickling slammed into her brain as she let out the first of many gagged screams.
“MMMNNNPPPHHH!!!!!….MMMGGGHH!!!…Mmnnnn….MMMnnnn….MMMRRRGGH!!!”
Her tormentors were completely unswayed by her muted pleas, stepping up the level of their torture. Her armpits were helpless against the fingers that were now poking into the tender flesh. Both man had found her truly sensitive spot and dug a single finger over the area and cruelly dug in, sliding the stiff fingers over the ticklish place. The sensation built and built, Blaire completely unprepared for it. She didn’t know how mush she could take. She never let anyone tickle her. She hated it and always thought it rather foolish. But now there was nothing she could do about it. She was tied tightly to a table and tickled by masked men videotaping the whole thing.
The fingers tickling hard into her armpits lightened up, but didn’t stop as she’d prayed. They only drifted to the sides of her ample chest, fluttering over her breasts. One of the men obtained a long feather and proceeded to tickle Blaire’s nipples with it as the other kidnapper continued to tickle the sides of her full breasts. The sensations were something that she simply could not stand. Thrashing against her bonds, her mood went from anger to fear as the tickling went on and on, unabated. The sounds escaping her gag were pitiful, pleas going unheard and unheeded.
Between her own fits of muffled laughter, she was able to glance over at the suspended blonde. Her thrashing had become a series of muscle tightening as her ticklers continued her torture, the camera recording every terrible moment. Just when Blaire thought that her own torture would drive her insane, it suddenly stopped.
Without a word, the two men left her in her bondage, heaving and gasping and joined their partners at the side of the hanging young victim. Pity flooded Blaire’s senses, her body still tingling from what was done to her. What they were doing to the girl was inhuman.
Two of the men continued to work on the girl’s body as one took the feather used on Blaire’s tits and used the tip to tease the nose of the tied girl. All over her face and neck the feather explored even the tiniest sensitive places. Within minutes, the feather found it’s way to the girl’s nipples and breasts.
“MmmMMmMmm!!!!..MMMPPPHHH!!!!!!” she screamed into the gag, her hitching sounds seeming to Blaire like muted crying and begging.
The horror reached a new level, however, as Blaire saw what the fourth man was preparing to do. Unknown to the hanging young captive, he walked around behind her. She screeched in a new pitch as the man’s hands stoked over her firm ass, tickling even that exposed area. It was when he started traveling up the backs of her legs that all sounds from the girl stopped. Only the occasional mew could be heard as the tickling robbed her of vocal control. Cruel fingertips tickled the soft, long legs, spending much time teasing the space behind her knees.
Then he reached her feet. The cruelty could not be imagined by Blaire as ten wriggling fingers touched the soles of the girls’ feet. Her wriggling and squirming did nothing to help her as her feet experienced pure hell. Four men tickling her suspended body was bad enough, but her feet were screaming. Throughout her body the electric shocks raced until they threatened to overload her brain. The man working her feet over was now stroking slowly up and down the length of the helpless soles. The sounds of the young woman’s suffering grew farther and farther apart as Blaire realized that the poor thing was losing consciousness. How many times had this horrible cycle played itself over during the helpless woman’s captivity?
Blaire had little time to think about it as the four psychotic torturers lost all interest in their plaything once she went limp.
They turned and eyed Blaire with nothing but evil showing through the small holes in the black masks.
“MMMMNNPPHH!!!!….NNNNGGHHH!!!!…..RRRRGGGHHMMMNN!!!””
The obscenities that she was trying to hurl were robbed of her by the thick tape over her mouth as the men reached the table she was so cruelly tied down to. Her arched body quivered at the first touch.
It was a single finger, trailing down the length of her belly, starting under the ribs and pressing in to massage the muscles under the skin on the way to her pubic bone. The tiny panties were no protection as she felt the feather touches of several fluttering fingers over her pussy and in between her legs. The tender skin on either side of her womanhood was in agony as the tickling fingers massaged seldom-touched flesh.
“MmmHMmmHMMmm!!!” MMRRRGHHMMHHMMMmHHHmmm!!” She giggled under the gag. He was teasing her, forcing her to giggle like a schoolgirl. She was embarrassed, but it was the least of her problems. The other three were looking her body over, almost as if they were planning a military attack.
And an attack it was as all four of the cruel kidnappers assaulted Blaire’s stretched body at once.
One man on either side of her pressed fingers into her hyper-extended ribcage. The ribs and even the soft places between them were tickled horribly. She had always hated even playful tickling, but compared to this torment, she would have taken playful teasing from anyone who wanted it. Her ribs were aching quickly as the devious fingers tickled each rib individually. The two men were in perfect synchronicity, going down the ribs in unison. Each one was tickled as if it were the only exposed part of her body. The sensations were building up to the point where she swore she would pass out. To her horror, she didn’t. She had little experience with this sort of thing and had no idea how much of this it took to make someone slip off into darkness.
It was apparently more than she thought as the other two men started their part of Blaire’s sadistic torture. Her stretched belly was their target. Arched up over the thick pillow under her back, her sexy body was helpless against twenty tickling fingers. It started with slow stokes down her sides and soon became an unbearable sensation of tickling at the curve of her waist. They stopped there and tickled over and over, the silky skin held in place to bear the torture.
After a relative eternity, they drifted up and over her body. Her navel was the target of one finger, scratching around the oval depression, driving her mad with a ticklish itch that she just couldn’t scratch. Another hand of the same tormentor found the soft skin above her pubic bone. Fluttering like crazy, the nerve endings screamed in protest where Blaire’s gagged mouth could not.
The other man tickling her belly was even less merciful, poking into her tight stomach, alternating spots as if he were looking for one specific nerve. After a few minutes, Blaire unaware of anything but the severe torment of her body, he found what he was looking for. Winking at his companion who ceased the tickling of her lower belly, he poked a single finger into a spot between her navel and side, perhaps an inch and a half above her hipbone. His accomplice matched him, pressing his finger into the same place on the other side. At the same time, both men pressed in hard, almost to the point of pain, and started to make small circles. The muscle under her soft skin responded by tightening up, which only helped her attackers. The tight area was subjected to the fingers over her most ticklish place violently stoking back and forth. They picked up speed and soon there was nothing but a blur as the tickling reached a horrible crescendo.
“MMMNNNPPHH!!!!!…MMM..MMM..MMM..HHMMM…RRRRGGHHH!!!”
It was no longer muted laughter that filtered through Blaire’s sticky gag, but screams of twisted torture. Her throat was raw, and she knew that she would soon go mute. The men that were so cruelly tickling her ribs made a side-trip to her armpits, tickling her hard, before moving ever-so-slowly down to join the others torturing her extended midriff.
It stopped for a few seconds as Blaire tried to catch her breath. She felt eight hands on her waist and stomach and knew what was coming. There was nothing in her mind that allowed her to brace for it.
They started. Four hands pinched her slim waist, massaging her ticklish flesh deeply and without mercy. The other four hands pressed into her lower belly, tickling over her hips, driving her to the brink of insanity. The tickling was ceaseless once they started. There was no moving of the hands to any other place. Over the course of the last hellacious eternity, the cold eye of the camera recording it all, they’d discovered all they needed to know about where to torture the helpless captured detective. Over and over it continued with no respite.
Blaire’s tight body was barely thrashing anymore as she became nothing more than a nameless receiver, her only purpose to be tortured for the entertainment of those willing to pay any price to see this. Her mind started to shut down as the torment exceeded her limits.
As she felt herself lose her grip on time and space, her mind went crazy with questions that she felt would go unanswered for a long time, if ever. Who were they? What would they do to her after this tape was made? Would there be more? Was the suspended girl even still alive? And would she herself be for much longer?
None of these would be explained to her yet as the tickling built to one solitary sensation. She could no longer tell one hand from another as all she felt was tickling in her mind and body. It became like a hot fluid that flowed over every square inch of exposed skin.
The tormentors finally stopped as Blaire’s beautiful body went limp against the unforgiving ropes binding her in place….
Three months later…..
Joyce Smith sat at her desk, wondering how to proceed in the matter laid before her. A crime with proof was easy to investigate, but this one was different. It was hard to tell whether she had a crime on her hands or not. It could just be a prank or a seriously twisted piece of entertainment. She looked again at the harmless seeming videotape and wondered. People were capable of some strange shit, but she needed to know if this was illegal, or just a case of personal tastes…..
She picked up the innocuous looking videotape and once again headed for the AV room of the precinct. It was her task to decide if the video was illegal or simply weird. If it turned out to be an illegal shoot, she would head up the task force to see where it came from. The tape itself fell into her hands through a long series of strange twists. It apparently started out in a local Adult Video store, then to a friend of the renter, after that to a friend of his and then into the hands of Crystal City’s Police force. How it got to the Adult Store in the first place remained a mystery. The owner swore that it just showed up in a box of tapes he’d ordered from one of his supply companies. The man who turned it in claimed that something didn’t seem right about it. Both men had passed a lie-detector test, so there were two dead ends. The owner was more than happy to supply the police with other tapes with which to do a comparison.
The comparison was necessary, as the tape in question could very well be the documented kidnapping of an innocent citizen. Blaire shuddered as she slipped the video into the VCR for the fourth time today. There was something about the scene that didn’t sit right with her. It was too real, too creepy. The other tapes she shrugged off as poor acting and even poorer moral fiber, scene after scene of something she just couldn’t understand. Women tied up in various positions and tickled by either men or in some cases other women. Harmless, but strange to Blaire nonetheless. Why anyone would volunteer to be restrained and tormented in such a way was beyond her. She knew that she’d never even think about it.
But the tape in question….that was another story. As she watched it again, she felt the chill up her spine return. Unlike the other colorfully made and well-lighted movies, this one was grainy and in black-and-white. The camera moved around a lot as if it were held by hand, up until the middle of the film, where it was obviously set upon a tripod or something. It showed a young woman gang-tackled by three men. Throughout the course of the first part of the film, the terrified looking girl was bound, gagged and roughly stripped of her clothing. The film cut back and forth after that, with no talking from any of the ski-masked men and scene upon scene of the young woman tied in various positions and mercilessly tickled.
Besides the setting and style, there was something else that separated this from the other tapes. The tickling wasn’t playful, erotic or even cheesy as in a few of them. It was cruel, hard and continuous. The laughter of the possible victim turned quickly to screams and crying, begging and pleading. If this was real the poor girl needed help, if she were even still alive.
Watching more intently every time, Blaire noticed a few things. The clothing of the girl could identify her as a prostitute, as she was dressed for more than just a stroll when she was taken. The place she was held in was nondescript in any way, appearing to be an old shack. One scene showed a window in which trees could clearly be seen. The fact that the window was not covered told her that it was either staged, or that the place was so far out of the way as not to attract any attention.
As she watched again, she quickly snatched up the remote and paused the tape. There it was…the clue she’d been looking for! There was a brief shot of the van that the girl was placed in, and something caught her attention that had escaped it before. In the side-view mirror was the quick flash of a street sign. The paused tape showed it as a blur, but if she could get it enhanced and reversed to account for the mirror image, she might have a slim lead.
The technician in video enhancement turned out to be about the only cooperative person in the entire precinct, however. Even armed with the name of the street, McAllister, a known hooker hang-out, the reception to her theory was less than warm. It was only a kinky video, her captain told her, and a waste of resources. If there was more she could glean from the tape, they’d talk again. But for now it was a no-go. The classic need for more evidence to free up funds and overtime. Great time for politics, she thought, as some girl could be dead or even worse…still being held against her will and tortured.
The more Blaire watched the horrible tape, the more she convinced herself that it was real. She was determined to find out, even if it meant a little investigation on her own time. That time came quickly.
Blaire found herself in a position she’d been in before, but without the back-up she was used to having. Dressed as a street-walker, she strolled up and down McAllister Street among the other ladies of the evening. This would be more difficult than a regulation prostitution sting. She was looking for a specific “john”, and had to avoid the other men who started to pull their cars to the curb to talk her up. If the guys she was looking for were out there, they were looking for one thing. She dressed the part in a ploy to appear as attractive as possible to someone after a tickling victim. Her 32-year-old body was dressed in white half-shirt, her firm breasts pushing against the thin fabric. The short skirt she wore barely covered her buttocks, showing off her long shapely legs. Her feet were encased in high-heeled shoes with barely-there straps. Her red hair was up and her pretty face was made up in the just-a-bit-too-much style of professional players. A feather boa finished the outfit, hopefully sending a subliminal signal to whom she was after. Her gun was in her shoulder purse, having nowhere else to hide it. She’d have to rely on speed and training, but she was confident.
It wasn’t until the seventh evening that she saw the van. It was unmistakable as the one from the video. Endless viewing had pointed out a distinctive rust spot on the front passenger panel, one that matched this one perfectly. She strutted her stuff, praying to catch their attention.
The van slowly rolled to a stop beside her. The passenger window rolled down. She was expecting and hoping to see who was behind that window, but the only thing she saw was an arm, pointing toward an alleyway around the corner.
This was it, she thought, calming herself. Who else would lead a hooker to an alleyway than someone looking to kidnap her? It had to be him.
Them, she reminded herself, her hand slipping under her feather boa and resting nonchalantly on her bag. The latch was unclasped and the bag partially open, but out of sight. It would take her two seconds to get it out.
Walking into the alleyway, she heard the van roll in a few seconds after. The two homeless people curled against the wall didn’t move, preferring to huddle deeper into their tattered coats. They’d probably seen it all and wanted no trouble. The engine still running, a man stepped out of the passenger side of the van. A man wearing a black ski-mask. Blaire reached into her bag and in one smooth motion brought her small but powerful Sig-Sauer firearm to bear. Forcing the man back against the alley wall, she kept one eye on the door of the van, knowing that others could spill out at any moment.
“Where’s the girl, you slime?” Blaire asked through clenched teeth as she pointed the gun at the man’s head. He had his hands up, palms out. With him offering no resistance, she sensed a ploy to get her attention away from the van.
“Everyone out, or I’m gonna splatter this asshole’s brains all over the wall! I’m not fucking around….NOW!!!”
The sound of her voice had apparently convinced the two street dwellers to avoid this confrontation and find shelter elsewhere. Blaire knew she had to contain the situation and get the bystanders out if they were going to be moving about.
“Ok, boys,” she said, her gun still trained on the masked man, “time to move on. Find a dumpster somewhere else, this doesn’t concern you.”
The two shambled down the alley. It was right when they were both behind her that Blaire realized her fatal mistake. The man’s cohorts weren’t in the van. They were hiding in plain sight.
She never had time to bring the weapon to bear as the two men grabbed her with brutal force. The sidearm clattered against the broken concrete as she saw the ski-masks the men were wearing under their tattered hoods. The van door was opened and before she could formulate a plan, she felt several strong arms holding her down and wrapping thick tape around her wrists and ankles. The same tape was placed over her mouth and eyes, rendering her helpless and fuming at herself to boot.
As the van sped off, she mentally kicked herself for not figuring this out. There were four, as she’d expected. But only two were in the van. The driver and the one who’d pointed to the alley. The other two were dressed as bums, proving to her with no doubt that the tape she’d studied was real. And for them to set this up, they had to have known that someone was on to them. But how? And would she ever find out? It seemed that her detective skills were not going to do her much good. There were two things that they could do to her. They could be taking her somewhere to be killed…or they could be taking her to the shack in the woods. If they were going to kill her, why not do it in the alley and speed off? This wasn’t looking good. But at least she was still alive and she might have a chance later if she could play it right. One step at a time, she told herself, and don’t panic. You’re a Police Officer for shit’s sake and that other girl may need you help.
The ride took longer than Blaire could have imagined as she felt the smooth road turn to a bumpy pass and then to the crunching of sticks and leaves as the tell-tale signs of off-road travel presented themselves. For well over an hour the van traveled further and further away from safety. She lost track of the turns a long time ago.
And her kidnappers were silent. Not one word passed between them. She couldn’t see if they were perhaps sharing signals, but it was moot at this point. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt the van roll to a stop.
There was no order for her cooperation or any kind of threat. She was lifted out of the van and slung over the shoulder of one of her abductors. Carried for what she figured to be about a hundred yards, she heard a creaky door open and cried out as she was dumped off the shoulder of the mystery man. She braced herself for a long fall, but she only dropped about two feet. They must have laid her on a table or bench or something. Through it all, she heard something else.
Whimpering.
Blaire wished that she could at least see. She had to know if the pitiful sound came from the girl in the video. Her wish was granted sooner than she thought as the sticky tape was roughly torn from her eyes. The sight she saw almost made her wish it was back on.
She saw the source of the whimpering and it was as she’d feared. It was the young blonde girl from the tape. She was wearing nothing but a cloth blindfold and a thick tape-gag. Her slim body was stretched to its limit, gravity exerting itself on her hanging form. A hook in the wooden ceiling held thick ropes that were wrapped around the girl’s ankles. Her arms were extended toward the floor, wrists tied together and lashed to a metal loop bolted to the floor. The sounds coming from the helpless girl weren’t the screams Blaire expected, but a subdued moaning that seemed out of place. Of course, the girl couldn’t see her, but Blaire’s own gagged sounds must have let her know that another was here.
Blaire had little time to contemplate this, as four pairs of hands went to work on her. She was no match for the rough treatment as her clothing was torn off. Her tiny panties were all that were left her, so at least she wouldn’t be raped, she thought. Yet, anyway. She was cruelly flipped on her back as she felt two hands on each limb. It happened so fast that she had little time to fight even if she could. By the time the four men were finished with her she couldn’t move. It was a small table that she was on, the size of it perfect for the bondage she was in. Her arms and legs were bent under it, her elbows and knees resting at either edge. While she was being tied, something soft but large was placed under the small of her back. Her wrists were lashed together, as were her ankles. A rope ran between the bindings of her hands and feet under the table, rendering her immobile. The object under her back, a pillow from the feel of it, arched her body upward, extending her ribs, flattening her stomach and making any struggle futile.
The men were in a corner of the place talking in hushed tones while Blaire tested her bonds. No way, she thought. She was at their mercy. After a short period of time, one of the men approached her. She heard his voice for the first time, and was not surprised to find it electronically disguised. The deep robotic sound sent a shudder through her helpless body.
“I hope you have found what you were looking for, Miss Constantine.”
He knew her! Who the fuck was under that mask?
“Yes, we know you. Or of you, as the case may be. Let’s just say that several of our customers are closer to you than you’d think.”
Customers? Is that what this was all about?
“Your little mind working overtime?” the metallic voice asked, “let me fill you in.”
The black-clad man circled around the table she was so cruelly tied to and stroked a stray piece of her red hair out of her face.
“Call it modern entertainment,” he continued, “as you could see from the video that fell into your hands, this is actually rather simple. You’ve seen how large an audience that tickling videos have. Non-consensual torment is more or less the Holy Grail of this form of entertainment. Similar to snuff films, you might say. Rumors of their existence only add to the price people will pay to see them. It’s nothing to make a thousand dollars from the sale of only one of these.”
She craned her neck to see what the other men were up to, and to her horror she saw them setting up two video cameras. One pointed at the suspended young woman, judging from the angle…
…and one pointed right at her.
“Shhhh….” said her abductor as she screamed into the tape over her mouth, “You are not going anywhere.”
She felt the table being turned as two of the men, finished with their grisly production set-up, rotated her so that she could see the helpless girl hanging from the ceiling.
“You are staying here, immobile,” he went on, “and you will be tickled hard for the enjoyment of our less-than-noble customers. That is all you need to know.”
Those were the last words she heard from her captor. Two of the men went over to the hanging blonde and placed their hands on her body. The mere touch of the hands brought a new series of muffled screams from the poor girl. From the look of her body, Blaire judged her to be no more than mid-twenties. Her breasts were still firm enough to stand up to the pull of gravity, and her skin was flawless. Her blond hair was long and straight, and although she couldn’t see the girl’s face, she must have been pretty for the men to have chosen her. Not too many ugly prostitutes getting continuous work.
The girl’s body trembled and she yelled again into the gag as the men started to trail their fingers down the sides of her body. From her bound ankles to her tied wrists, they tickled her every inch of the way. There was no mercy as the tormentors caused the tied girl to wriggle violently against her strict bondage. Blaire couldn’t imagine what the poor thing was going through as she was tickled in a way Blaire had never known possible. The hands of the men dug into her tender sides and ribs. There was no respite for the girl as her smooth armpits were stroked over and over. The men relented in their poking and prodding attack long enough to flutter their fingers over the sensitive skin. Blaire could see the muscles of the young woman’s arms strain to pull against her bonds. The ropes held her tight, however, leaving her stretched and helpless before two sadistic torturers.
Blaire’s horror at the sight she was privy to was short-lived, her own terror rising as the remaining two men approached her.
Get the fuck away from me, her first thought, never made it to her lips, stopped by the layers and layers of thick sticky tape. One of the man stood on either side of her. Blaire braced herself as she felt two sets of hands drifting down her arms from the elbows. The light touch was maddening, and fear grabbed hold of her as they slowly found their way to her exposed armpits. Wriggling over the sensitive stretched skin, the tickling slammed into her brain as she let out the first of many gagged screams.
“MMMNNNPPPHHH!!!!!….MMMGGGHH!!!…Mmnnnn….MMMnnnn….MMMRRRGGH!!!”
Her tormentors were completely unswayed by her muted pleas, stepping up the level of their torture. Her armpits were helpless against the fingers that were now poking into the tender flesh. Both man had found her truly sensitive spot and dug a single finger over the area and cruelly dug in, sliding the stiff fingers over the ticklish place. The sensation built and built, Blaire completely unprepared for it. She didn’t know how mush she could take. She never let anyone tickle her. She hated it and always thought it rather foolish. But now there was nothing she could do about it. She was tied tightly to a table and tickled by masked men videotaping the whole thing.
The fingers tickling hard into her armpits lightened up, but didn’t stop as she’d prayed. They only drifted to the sides of her ample chest, fluttering over her breasts. One of the men obtained a long feather and proceeded to tickle Blaire’s nipples with it as the other kidnapper continued to tickle the sides of her full breasts. The sensations were something that she simply could not stand. Thrashing against her bonds, her mood went from anger to fear as the tickling went on and on, unabated. The sounds escaping her gag were pitiful, pleas going unheard and unheeded.
Between her own fits of muffled laughter, she was able to glance over at the suspended blonde. Her thrashing had become a series of muscle tightening as her ticklers continued her torture, the camera recording every terrible moment. Just when Blaire thought that her own torture would drive her insane, it suddenly stopped.
Without a word, the two men left her in her bondage, heaving and gasping and joined their partners at the side of the hanging young victim. Pity flooded Blaire’s senses, her body still tingling from what was done to her. What they were doing to the girl was inhuman.
Two of the men continued to work on the girl’s body as one took the feather used on Blaire’s tits and used the tip to tease the nose of the tied girl. All over her face and neck the feather explored even the tiniest sensitive places. Within minutes, the feather found it’s way to the girl’s nipples and breasts.
“MmmMMmMmm!!!!..MMMPPPHHH!!!!!!” she screamed into the gag, her hitching sounds seeming to Blaire like muted crying and begging.
The horror reached a new level, however, as Blaire saw what the fourth man was preparing to do. Unknown to the hanging young captive, he walked around behind her. She screeched in a new pitch as the man’s hands stoked over her firm ass, tickling even that exposed area. It was when he started traveling up the backs of her legs that all sounds from the girl stopped. Only the occasional mew could be heard as the tickling robbed her of vocal control. Cruel fingertips tickled the soft, long legs, spending much time teasing the space behind her knees.
Then he reached her feet. The cruelty could not be imagined by Blaire as ten wriggling fingers touched the soles of the girls’ feet. Her wriggling and squirming did nothing to help her as her feet experienced pure hell. Four men tickling her suspended body was bad enough, but her feet were screaming. Throughout her body the electric shocks raced until they threatened to overload her brain. The man working her feet over was now stroking slowly up and down the length of the helpless soles. The sounds of the young woman’s suffering grew farther and farther apart as Blaire realized that the poor thing was losing consciousness. How many times had this horrible cycle played itself over during the helpless woman’s captivity?
Blaire had little time to think about it as the four psychotic torturers lost all interest in their plaything once she went limp.
They turned and eyed Blaire with nothing but evil showing through the small holes in the black masks.
“MMMMNNPPHH!!!!….NNNNGGHHH!!!!…..RRRRGGGHHMMMNN!!!””
The obscenities that she was trying to hurl were robbed of her by the thick tape over her mouth as the men reached the table she was so cruelly tied down to. Her arched body quivered at the first touch.
It was a single finger, trailing down the length of her belly, starting under the ribs and pressing in to massage the muscles under the skin on the way to her pubic bone. The tiny panties were no protection as she felt the feather touches of several fluttering fingers over her pussy and in between her legs. The tender skin on either side of her womanhood was in agony as the tickling fingers massaged seldom-touched flesh.
“MmmHMmmHMMmm!!!” MMRRRGHHMMHHMMMmHHHmmm!!” She giggled under the gag. He was teasing her, forcing her to giggle like a schoolgirl. She was embarrassed, but it was the least of her problems. The other three were looking her body over, almost as if they were planning a military attack.
And an attack it was as all four of the cruel kidnappers assaulted Blaire’s stretched body at once.
One man on either side of her pressed fingers into her hyper-extended ribcage. The ribs and even the soft places between them were tickled horribly. She had always hated even playful tickling, but compared to this torment, she would have taken playful teasing from anyone who wanted it. Her ribs were aching quickly as the devious fingers tickled each rib individually. The two men were in perfect synchronicity, going down the ribs in unison. Each one was tickled as if it were the only exposed part of her body. The sensations were building up to the point where she swore she would pass out. To her horror, she didn’t. She had little experience with this sort of thing and had no idea how much of this it took to make someone slip off into darkness.
It was apparently more than she thought as the other two men started their part of Blaire’s sadistic torture. Her stretched belly was their target. Arched up over the thick pillow under her back, her sexy body was helpless against twenty tickling fingers. It started with slow stokes down her sides and soon became an unbearable sensation of tickling at the curve of her waist. They stopped there and tickled over and over, the silky skin held in place to bear the torture.
After a relative eternity, they drifted up and over her body. Her navel was the target of one finger, scratching around the oval depression, driving her mad with a ticklish itch that she just couldn’t scratch. Another hand of the same tormentor found the soft skin above her pubic bone. Fluttering like crazy, the nerve endings screamed in protest where Blaire’s gagged mouth could not.
The other man tickling her belly was even less merciful, poking into her tight stomach, alternating spots as if he were looking for one specific nerve. After a few minutes, Blaire unaware of anything but the severe torment of her body, he found what he was looking for. Winking at his companion who ceased the tickling of her lower belly, he poked a single finger into a spot between her navel and side, perhaps an inch and a half above her hipbone. His accomplice matched him, pressing his finger into the same place on the other side. At the same time, both men pressed in hard, almost to the point of pain, and started to make small circles. The muscle under her soft skin responded by tightening up, which only helped her attackers. The tight area was subjected to the fingers over her most ticklish place violently stoking back and forth. They picked up speed and soon there was nothing but a blur as the tickling reached a horrible crescendo.
“MMMNNNPPHH!!!!!…MMM..MMM..MMM..HHMMM…RRRRGGHHH!!!”
It was no longer muted laughter that filtered through Blaire’s sticky gag, but screams of twisted torture. Her throat was raw, and she knew that she would soon go mute. The men that were so cruelly tickling her ribs made a side-trip to her armpits, tickling her hard, before moving ever-so-slowly down to join the others torturing her extended midriff.
It stopped for a few seconds as Blaire tried to catch her breath. She felt eight hands on her waist and stomach and knew what was coming. There was nothing in her mind that allowed her to brace for it.
They started. Four hands pinched her slim waist, massaging her ticklish flesh deeply and without mercy. The other four hands pressed into her lower belly, tickling over her hips, driving her to the brink of insanity. The tickling was ceaseless once they started. There was no moving of the hands to any other place. Over the course of the last hellacious eternity, the cold eye of the camera recording it all, they’d discovered all they needed to know about where to torture the helpless captured detective. Over and over it continued with no respite.
Blaire’s tight body was barely thrashing anymore as she became nothing more than a nameless receiver, her only purpose to be tortured for the entertainment of those willing to pay any price to see this. Her mind started to shut down as the torment exceeded her limits.
As she felt herself lose her grip on time and space, her mind went crazy with questions that she felt would go unanswered for a long time, if ever. Who were they? What would they do to her after this tape was made? Would there be more? Was the suspended girl even still alive? And would she herself be for much longer?
None of these would be explained to her yet as the tickling built to one solitary sensation. She could no longer tell one hand from another as all she felt was tickling in her mind and body. It became like a hot fluid that flowed over every square inch of exposed skin.
The tormentors finally stopped as Blaire’s beautiful body went limp against the unforgiving ropes binding her in place….
Three months later…..
Joyce Smith sat at her desk, wondering how to proceed in the matter laid before her. A crime with proof was easy to investigate, but this one was different. It was hard to tell whether she had a crime on her hands or not. It could just be a prank or a seriously twisted piece of entertainment. She looked again at the harmless seeming videotape and wondered. People were capable of some strange shit, but she needed to know if this was illegal, or just a case of personal tastes…..
