ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Messages
- 7,698
- Points
- 38
The Tickle Prison.
Written by Ticklishscribe,
Inspired by Tickledorange.
c. 2003
Stacy looked at the heavy steel door that closed with a solid bang. She had just been returned to her cell after another ruthless and torturous day of being tickle tortured.
“Please let me out! Please let me go! Why are you doing this to me?” She yelled as she threw herself at the door and pounded on it.
The person on the other side was silent, but pushed a tray through a slot at the bottom of the door. Stacy stared at her evening meal; the unappetizing tray that it was.
This was her 29th day in what she had termed a tickling prison. At least she thought is was her 29th day. In reality she had lost track of time and even the marks on the cell wall were probably inaccurate. She didn’t know she had been taken here as one minute she was walking down the street and the next she was here. Here to endure the daily tickle tortures and the nightly tickle assaults in her cell. Each day she was taken from her cell to a torture room and gang tickled relentlessly and torturously. These sessions would last for hours with no rest for her. Even when she would pass out, she would be revived and the tickle torture would start all over again. At night when she was asleep, two girls would come into her cell, force themselves on her and tickle-torture her some more. Sometimes these sessions lasted the whole night through, until she thought she was being tickled round the clock.
She put her blanket around her, as she was cold. The cell had no heat and she was left only in her bra and panties. But the blanket was thin and did little to shelter her from the cold and damp. Again she stared at the tray on the floor and then pushed it back through the slot.
“That will cost you.” Said a steely voice from the other side of the door.
She once more begged for her release and asked why she had been brought here. But the person on the other side didn’t answer.
From far away she could hear frenzied laughter and screaming coming from several other tickle torture rooms and she knew that others were getting it. The screams pounded in her brain until they were a torture unto themselves. She was in terror 24 hours a day and wanted desperately to somehow escape. The small window in her cell was too high to access, and when she was out of her cell, there were always guards around her, holding onto her and leading her to and from the torture rooms.
She heard footsteps down the hall, heard the sound of someone being dragged a long the floor and then heard the dull clang of a cell door being closed. A small panel in her cell door opened and she saw a pair of eyes looking through it. Hideous female laughter came from the other side and then the lights went out.
She whimpered, again asking why she was here and why they were doing this to her. But the panel just closed and so she sat on her bed and cried herself to sleep.
A small metallic noise awoke her but before she had the chance to totally come to her senses, she was grabbed by two people and pinned to her bed. She could feel ropes being tied around her wrists and ankles, her arms and legs being spread and then being secured to the metal frame of her bed.
“Time for another night session tickle toy.” The voice was feminine and deep. “And you better behave or we’ll have no choice but to get rough and treat you as a tickle bitch.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” She cried. She didn’t know what a tickle bitch was. Nor did she want to find out.
She felt fingers fluttering in her armpits and screamed as the tips caressed and stroked the smooth, deep hollows. She could feel still more fingers on her ribs; digging, probing, seeking out in between each rib, sliding back and forth with a reckless abandon. Her body jerked, spasmed, arched then writhed like crazy, but the 20 fiendish fingers followed her tormented torso effortlessly. No matter where she rocketed the fingers were always there, always tickling and tickling and tickling. The fingers then tickled lower down, tormenting her spasming tummy and its helpless, defenceless button.
Her back arched even higher and her screams follow suit. Once again the fingers were relentless and torturous and followed her torso effortlessly.
Then the tickling stopped and an eerie silence filtered throughout the room. Stacey tensed, knowing that more tickling was only moments away. But it didn’t come and she began to get really nervous. What were her sadistic tormentors up to? What was coming in punishment for her? She thought of when she had pushed her full tray back through the slot and the voice that said she would pay for that. She shivered and whimpered.
Suddenly she felt a cold blast of soft air flowing on her left sole and she jerked and her foot spasmed. Two hands darted out of nowhere and as one held the foot still by hauling back on the toes, the other rape tickled the tender arch. Stacy screamed like never before and instantly went into insane laughter and volcanic writhing. As this foot was being tortured she heard a hum, then felt dozen’s of little nubbly points cruising and vibrating her right arch. She was instantly thrown into further ticklish abandon. The fingers rapetickling her left sole was one thing, but this new tool was even more devastating. It now began to slowly creep up her leg and into her inner thighs and the relentless and torturous, nubbly little points continued their torment. As the vibrator entered her thighs she felt an instant urgency to orgasm, but didn’t have any muscle control over bringing it to happening. The vibe crept onto and over her womanhood and she gyrated into the mattress, trying desperately to escape its torture. The vibe lingered there for a moment, further boiling the urgency inside of her, then crept even further and onto her tummy and button. A sudden thought panicked her, as she knew that the vibe was being taken to her ribs. She started to scream rapidly and volcanically writhe again, pleading and begging for her ticklers to show even the tiniest shred of mercy and stop. The two girls just laughed hideously and continued their ticklish torment of her helpless, defenceless body.
In the pitch darkness of her cell, she was unable to sense anything except for the nails scratching the bottoms of her extremely ticklish feet and the vibe on her ribs. She then went into silent laughter and jerked and writhed relentlessly. Her whole body was on fire and they were constantly stoking that fire within her.
Stacey was racked with torturous torment, racked with an agony that she never dreamed could be possible. She begged for release, begged to her ticklers to stop. But hearing none from them she began begging to God to take her out of this predicament. Twenty fingers were, probing, tickling and torturing every ticklish area of her body. Her entire body was now blazing with tickles and the fires were out of control. She had no control over what was happening and this helplessness enhanced the tickling 100 per cent. Her nervous system was gone, yet her nerve endings were now sharper than ever. Even just touching her body set off explosions of volcanic screaming and writhing. She was a mass of sweat and ticklishness, experiencing one conniption after another. But the girls continued to tickle Stacey with a hearty zeal that caused the poor girl to shake, shiver, writhe and scream all over again.
The vibe assaulted once more her ribs and she instantly went off the scale in screaming and writhing. Any tickling she had received before was nothing compared to this. The vibrator was the most fiendish of tickling tools that they had used on her so far and she could tell was one with which they took great delight in using on her as well. The vibe was moved across her ribs ever so slowly, and then moved with lightning speed all over her ribs. Slow and fast, slow and fast was the rhythm they were using, rubbing, stroking and kneading her ribs all over, going across the tender ribs and fiendishly tickling in between them. Her rib cage spasmed and contracted and she writhed all over to escape their continuous torment.
While the vibe tortured her ribs, her left arch was still being relentlessly and torturously rape tickled. These two were the most devious experts at this kind of torture and they thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.
Stacey screamed and rocketed off the bed once more, then begged more for her release.
“You can beg all you want girl!” One girl said. “But you’re not going anywhere. You are ours to play with, little tickle toy. And we play hard and for keeps.”
They tickled her for what seemed like an eternity and then stopped. As quickly as they had entered her cell they were gone. Stacey lay on her bed traces of laughter, still echoing from her, writhing slowly. Tears were now beginning to come and she wondered if she would ever be free of this place. Why weren’t people looking for her? Why was she here; what had she done to be confined here? What crime had she committed?
She awoke to the sound of another tray being pushed through the slot in her cell door. A voice behind the door said “Do not make us punish you again for not eating! I expect that to be gone when I return in 30 minutes!”
Stacey tried to eat but the food was unappetizing and she had no appetite to begin with. There was no place to hide her food either, as she had tried to do that once before, they had become suspicious, searched her cell, found the hidden food and had punished her for it. She knew that when the guard came back she would see the partly full tray and would punish her later for it. Pitifully she pushed her tray back through the slot.
She was carving another notch in the wall to mark another day, when her cell door opened and two Guards came in. They roughly brought her to her feet and began to drag her out into the corridor.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, struggling to get to her feet.
“Your time has come…”
“Time, time for what? Where are you taking me? Who am I going to see?”
“That is not for you to ask, but you must respect her when in her presence.
Stacey was dragged into a room and roughly made to stand to attention. She stood before a firm, muscle toned woman with stark, clean facial features. She wore the uniform of a torturer, but Stacey could see that she wasn’t just any torturer.
“Put her on the X bed!” Said the woman, with an icy tone in her voice.
Stacey looked beyond the women and saw a cold steel X-framed contraption with restraints at the ends of each of the x points. As one guard closed the X-bed, the other maneuvered Stacey over to it. She screamed and struggled intensely as they began to lift her onto the bed and strap her in. As the cold steel touched her bare skin, she jerked like she was being jolted with electricity. As the wool lined leather cuffs were closed around her wrists and ankles she struggled even more to free herself.
I am Shara and you will respect me or pay the penalty!” The girl said coming over to look her. She touched a button on a wall panel and instantly and clinically the bed sprang open into the x shape.
Stacey jerked and grunted loudly at the sudden feeling of her body being pulled taught.
“What are you going to do to me? Please don’t tickle me, please. I have had more then enough tickling. Please don’t tick”
“Silence!” Shara cut in with that icy tone in her voice. “You are not here to ask questions, nor to tell me what to do!”
Shara reached out and stroked a single finger along Stacey’s top left rib and the poor tormented girl screamed, writhed, shivered and shook intensely. Shara then began working five torturous fingers into the left ribs. Stacey’s ribs were creamy, buttery soft and hyper sensitive and she screamed louder than ever and really rocketed off the bed, straining at the bonds that held her. Her back arched higher than before, her mouth opened wide and her eyes clenched shut.
“What the matter helpless little tickle toy?” Asked Shara. “Can’t you take the tickling?”
Stacey began begging once more for her release, but all she got in reply was Shara digging her torturous fingers into the left and now the rights ribs. This set her off to do nothing more than thrashing and cackling.
Shara now dug her fingers into and under the tender ribs and Stacey really took off and it seemed that all of the circuits in her nervous system had blown all at once. Her head furiously rocked from side to side, her body jolted and strained intensely at the bonds that held her and her laughter and screams were deafening. Stacey was definitely off the scale in her reactions and Shara smiled at this fact.
“Excellent my little tickle toy. You are so precious, so tickly and I am going to take you way beyond any tickling you have experienced before. In fact, your limits will seem a distant memory to you.”
When it came to Stacey’s ribs, Shara had an almost unfeeling, mechanical approach in tickling them. Her lightning fingers were all over the soft sensitive skin, spider tickling, digging in raking, and totally rape tickling beyond belief. When it came to tickling, Shara was relentless, sadistic, torturous and vicious. This was tickle torture in its purest form; cruelty personified. She cruised the ribs back and forth continuing her relentless tickle torture
Stacy screamed and squealed, begging for release. Trying every maneuver to free herself. The X-bed was cold and inhuman, its steel surface knife-like in her back, the bonds holding her taught. Shara said nothing as her ten sharp fingernails clinically, mercilessly and methodically dug deeply into the spaces between Stacey’s ribs and she screamed in torturous agony. She screamed and writhed as the tickling sensations rocked her but Shara continued to torture. Suddenly she stopped and looked intently at her victim.
“It’s time for my favorite tickle torture tool, but first…” Shara reached over and took a black cloth off a nearby table and then came next to Stacy’s head.
“Stacy begged and pleaded as she knew that she was about to be blindfolded, but Shara wrapped the cloth around her head and knotted it off. Plunged into darkness, Stacey immediately began to writhe even more now, pulling at the bonds with a ferocity that was even beyond her. Primal desperation have taken completely over as she was in sheer panic.
Shara then went back to Stacey’s ribs gave the girl another quick spider tickle. A monotone humming sound now resonated throughout the room and Stacey violently shook, as it got closer. She could sense that the sound was inches away from her spasming ribs, and she once again begged for Shara to stop.
Shara delighted at the fact that her trusty massage vibrator was inches away from Stacey’s hyper-ticklish ribs as she hovered it over them. The circular head with its vibrating tendrils mechanically quivered, and as it met with the straining and spasming ribs, Stacey arched her back, froze and then thrashed and cackled. The tendrils were electric and seemed to be everywhere.
She laughed as hard as she was allowed. Shara turned to look at her ticklish captive and smiled evilly. As she vibed the left side of Stacey’s ribs, she spider tickled and firmly dug in on the right side. The ribs now spasmed and contracted, being on fire with the tickles from hell and Stacey was almost beginning to rock the X-bed off his mountings.
“Please, please, why are you doing this to me, why have I been brought here. I haven’t done anything!”
“I said silence! You are not here to ask questions or to tell me what to do. You have already been warned and now you must pay the penalty. You shall return here tomorrow, and many more tomorrows after that! Guards take her to her cell!”
The guards released Stacey, dragged her up the hall and tossed her back into her cell. Stacey crumpled onto the floor and began to cry. She then crawled over to the door and began to bang on it, begging for her release to anyone who would listen. She soon exhausted herself and stopped. As she cried pitifully once more, she saw a note lying on the floor beside her. Picking it up she opened the note and read it. Sheer horror came all over her, and she cried even more. The note had read, “We had fun last night. See you soon.”
Written by Ticklishscribe,
Inspired by Tickledorange.
c. 2003
Stacy looked at the heavy steel door that closed with a solid bang. She had just been returned to her cell after another ruthless and torturous day of being tickle tortured.
“Please let me out! Please let me go! Why are you doing this to me?” She yelled as she threw herself at the door and pounded on it.
The person on the other side was silent, but pushed a tray through a slot at the bottom of the door. Stacy stared at her evening meal; the unappetizing tray that it was.
This was her 29th day in what she had termed a tickling prison. At least she thought is was her 29th day. In reality she had lost track of time and even the marks on the cell wall were probably inaccurate. She didn’t know she had been taken here as one minute she was walking down the street and the next she was here. Here to endure the daily tickle tortures and the nightly tickle assaults in her cell. Each day she was taken from her cell to a torture room and gang tickled relentlessly and torturously. These sessions would last for hours with no rest for her. Even when she would pass out, she would be revived and the tickle torture would start all over again. At night when she was asleep, two girls would come into her cell, force themselves on her and tickle-torture her some more. Sometimes these sessions lasted the whole night through, until she thought she was being tickled round the clock.
She put her blanket around her, as she was cold. The cell had no heat and she was left only in her bra and panties. But the blanket was thin and did little to shelter her from the cold and damp. Again she stared at the tray on the floor and then pushed it back through the slot.
“That will cost you.” Said a steely voice from the other side of the door.
She once more begged for her release and asked why she had been brought here. But the person on the other side didn’t answer.
From far away she could hear frenzied laughter and screaming coming from several other tickle torture rooms and she knew that others were getting it. The screams pounded in her brain until they were a torture unto themselves. She was in terror 24 hours a day and wanted desperately to somehow escape. The small window in her cell was too high to access, and when she was out of her cell, there were always guards around her, holding onto her and leading her to and from the torture rooms.
She heard footsteps down the hall, heard the sound of someone being dragged a long the floor and then heard the dull clang of a cell door being closed. A small panel in her cell door opened and she saw a pair of eyes looking through it. Hideous female laughter came from the other side and then the lights went out.
She whimpered, again asking why she was here and why they were doing this to her. But the panel just closed and so she sat on her bed and cried herself to sleep.
A small metallic noise awoke her but before she had the chance to totally come to her senses, she was grabbed by two people and pinned to her bed. She could feel ropes being tied around her wrists and ankles, her arms and legs being spread and then being secured to the metal frame of her bed.
“Time for another night session tickle toy.” The voice was feminine and deep. “And you better behave or we’ll have no choice but to get rough and treat you as a tickle bitch.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” She cried. She didn’t know what a tickle bitch was. Nor did she want to find out.
She felt fingers fluttering in her armpits and screamed as the tips caressed and stroked the smooth, deep hollows. She could feel still more fingers on her ribs; digging, probing, seeking out in between each rib, sliding back and forth with a reckless abandon. Her body jerked, spasmed, arched then writhed like crazy, but the 20 fiendish fingers followed her tormented torso effortlessly. No matter where she rocketed the fingers were always there, always tickling and tickling and tickling. The fingers then tickled lower down, tormenting her spasming tummy and its helpless, defenceless button.
Her back arched even higher and her screams follow suit. Once again the fingers were relentless and torturous and followed her torso effortlessly.
Then the tickling stopped and an eerie silence filtered throughout the room. Stacey tensed, knowing that more tickling was only moments away. But it didn’t come and she began to get really nervous. What were her sadistic tormentors up to? What was coming in punishment for her? She thought of when she had pushed her full tray back through the slot and the voice that said she would pay for that. She shivered and whimpered.
Suddenly she felt a cold blast of soft air flowing on her left sole and she jerked and her foot spasmed. Two hands darted out of nowhere and as one held the foot still by hauling back on the toes, the other rape tickled the tender arch. Stacy screamed like never before and instantly went into insane laughter and volcanic writhing. As this foot was being tortured she heard a hum, then felt dozen’s of little nubbly points cruising and vibrating her right arch. She was instantly thrown into further ticklish abandon. The fingers rapetickling her left sole was one thing, but this new tool was even more devastating. It now began to slowly creep up her leg and into her inner thighs and the relentless and torturous, nubbly little points continued their torment. As the vibrator entered her thighs she felt an instant urgency to orgasm, but didn’t have any muscle control over bringing it to happening. The vibe crept onto and over her womanhood and she gyrated into the mattress, trying desperately to escape its torture. The vibe lingered there for a moment, further boiling the urgency inside of her, then crept even further and onto her tummy and button. A sudden thought panicked her, as she knew that the vibe was being taken to her ribs. She started to scream rapidly and volcanically writhe again, pleading and begging for her ticklers to show even the tiniest shred of mercy and stop. The two girls just laughed hideously and continued their ticklish torment of her helpless, defenceless body.
In the pitch darkness of her cell, she was unable to sense anything except for the nails scratching the bottoms of her extremely ticklish feet and the vibe on her ribs. She then went into silent laughter and jerked and writhed relentlessly. Her whole body was on fire and they were constantly stoking that fire within her.
Stacey was racked with torturous torment, racked with an agony that she never dreamed could be possible. She begged for release, begged to her ticklers to stop. But hearing none from them she began begging to God to take her out of this predicament. Twenty fingers were, probing, tickling and torturing every ticklish area of her body. Her entire body was now blazing with tickles and the fires were out of control. She had no control over what was happening and this helplessness enhanced the tickling 100 per cent. Her nervous system was gone, yet her nerve endings were now sharper than ever. Even just touching her body set off explosions of volcanic screaming and writhing. She was a mass of sweat and ticklishness, experiencing one conniption after another. But the girls continued to tickle Stacey with a hearty zeal that caused the poor girl to shake, shiver, writhe and scream all over again.
The vibe assaulted once more her ribs and she instantly went off the scale in screaming and writhing. Any tickling she had received before was nothing compared to this. The vibrator was the most fiendish of tickling tools that they had used on her so far and she could tell was one with which they took great delight in using on her as well. The vibe was moved across her ribs ever so slowly, and then moved with lightning speed all over her ribs. Slow and fast, slow and fast was the rhythm they were using, rubbing, stroking and kneading her ribs all over, going across the tender ribs and fiendishly tickling in between them. Her rib cage spasmed and contracted and she writhed all over to escape their continuous torment.
While the vibe tortured her ribs, her left arch was still being relentlessly and torturously rape tickled. These two were the most devious experts at this kind of torture and they thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.
Stacey screamed and rocketed off the bed once more, then begged more for her release.
“You can beg all you want girl!” One girl said. “But you’re not going anywhere. You are ours to play with, little tickle toy. And we play hard and for keeps.”
They tickled her for what seemed like an eternity and then stopped. As quickly as they had entered her cell they were gone. Stacey lay on her bed traces of laughter, still echoing from her, writhing slowly. Tears were now beginning to come and she wondered if she would ever be free of this place. Why weren’t people looking for her? Why was she here; what had she done to be confined here? What crime had she committed?
She awoke to the sound of another tray being pushed through the slot in her cell door. A voice behind the door said “Do not make us punish you again for not eating! I expect that to be gone when I return in 30 minutes!”
Stacey tried to eat but the food was unappetizing and she had no appetite to begin with. There was no place to hide her food either, as she had tried to do that once before, they had become suspicious, searched her cell, found the hidden food and had punished her for it. She knew that when the guard came back she would see the partly full tray and would punish her later for it. Pitifully she pushed her tray back through the slot.
She was carving another notch in the wall to mark another day, when her cell door opened and two Guards came in. They roughly brought her to her feet and began to drag her out into the corridor.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, struggling to get to her feet.
“Your time has come…”
“Time, time for what? Where are you taking me? Who am I going to see?”
“That is not for you to ask, but you must respect her when in her presence.
Stacey was dragged into a room and roughly made to stand to attention. She stood before a firm, muscle toned woman with stark, clean facial features. She wore the uniform of a torturer, but Stacey could see that she wasn’t just any torturer.
“Put her on the X bed!” Said the woman, with an icy tone in her voice.
Stacey looked beyond the women and saw a cold steel X-framed contraption with restraints at the ends of each of the x points. As one guard closed the X-bed, the other maneuvered Stacey over to it. She screamed and struggled intensely as they began to lift her onto the bed and strap her in. As the cold steel touched her bare skin, she jerked like she was being jolted with electricity. As the wool lined leather cuffs were closed around her wrists and ankles she struggled even more to free herself.
I am Shara and you will respect me or pay the penalty!” The girl said coming over to look her. She touched a button on a wall panel and instantly and clinically the bed sprang open into the x shape.
Stacey jerked and grunted loudly at the sudden feeling of her body being pulled taught.
“What are you going to do to me? Please don’t tickle me, please. I have had more then enough tickling. Please don’t tick”
“Silence!” Shara cut in with that icy tone in her voice. “You are not here to ask questions, nor to tell me what to do!”
Shara reached out and stroked a single finger along Stacey’s top left rib and the poor tormented girl screamed, writhed, shivered and shook intensely. Shara then began working five torturous fingers into the left ribs. Stacey’s ribs were creamy, buttery soft and hyper sensitive and she screamed louder than ever and really rocketed off the bed, straining at the bonds that held her. Her back arched higher than before, her mouth opened wide and her eyes clenched shut.
“What the matter helpless little tickle toy?” Asked Shara. “Can’t you take the tickling?”
Stacey began begging once more for her release, but all she got in reply was Shara digging her torturous fingers into the left and now the rights ribs. This set her off to do nothing more than thrashing and cackling.
Shara now dug her fingers into and under the tender ribs and Stacey really took off and it seemed that all of the circuits in her nervous system had blown all at once. Her head furiously rocked from side to side, her body jolted and strained intensely at the bonds that held her and her laughter and screams were deafening. Stacey was definitely off the scale in her reactions and Shara smiled at this fact.
“Excellent my little tickle toy. You are so precious, so tickly and I am going to take you way beyond any tickling you have experienced before. In fact, your limits will seem a distant memory to you.”
When it came to Stacey’s ribs, Shara had an almost unfeeling, mechanical approach in tickling them. Her lightning fingers were all over the soft sensitive skin, spider tickling, digging in raking, and totally rape tickling beyond belief. When it came to tickling, Shara was relentless, sadistic, torturous and vicious. This was tickle torture in its purest form; cruelty personified. She cruised the ribs back and forth continuing her relentless tickle torture
Stacy screamed and squealed, begging for release. Trying every maneuver to free herself. The X-bed was cold and inhuman, its steel surface knife-like in her back, the bonds holding her taught. Shara said nothing as her ten sharp fingernails clinically, mercilessly and methodically dug deeply into the spaces between Stacey’s ribs and she screamed in torturous agony. She screamed and writhed as the tickling sensations rocked her but Shara continued to torture. Suddenly she stopped and looked intently at her victim.
“It’s time for my favorite tickle torture tool, but first…” Shara reached over and took a black cloth off a nearby table and then came next to Stacy’s head.
“Stacy begged and pleaded as she knew that she was about to be blindfolded, but Shara wrapped the cloth around her head and knotted it off. Plunged into darkness, Stacey immediately began to writhe even more now, pulling at the bonds with a ferocity that was even beyond her. Primal desperation have taken completely over as she was in sheer panic.
Shara then went back to Stacey’s ribs gave the girl another quick spider tickle. A monotone humming sound now resonated throughout the room and Stacey violently shook, as it got closer. She could sense that the sound was inches away from her spasming ribs, and she once again begged for Shara to stop.
Shara delighted at the fact that her trusty massage vibrator was inches away from Stacey’s hyper-ticklish ribs as she hovered it over them. The circular head with its vibrating tendrils mechanically quivered, and as it met with the straining and spasming ribs, Stacey arched her back, froze and then thrashed and cackled. The tendrils were electric and seemed to be everywhere.
She laughed as hard as she was allowed. Shara turned to look at her ticklish captive and smiled evilly. As she vibed the left side of Stacey’s ribs, she spider tickled and firmly dug in on the right side. The ribs now spasmed and contracted, being on fire with the tickles from hell and Stacey was almost beginning to rock the X-bed off his mountings.
“Please, please, why are you doing this to me, why have I been brought here. I haven’t done anything!”
“I said silence! You are not here to ask questions or to tell me what to do. You have already been warned and now you must pay the penalty. You shall return here tomorrow, and many more tomorrows after that! Guards take her to her cell!”
The guards released Stacey, dragged her up the hall and tossed her back into her cell. Stacey crumpled onto the floor and began to cry. She then crawled over to the door and began to bang on it, begging for her release to anyone who would listen. She soon exhausted herself and stopped. As she cried pitifully once more, she saw a note lying on the floor beside her. Picking it up she opened the note and read it. Sheer horror came all over her, and she cried even more. The note had read, “We had fun last night. See you soon.”
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