Another work of fiction featuring my late wife "Stacey" which I wrote some years ago. It's a fantasy, but it might have become reality to some extent had Stacey lived long enough. 🙁
"Stacey in the Dungeon"
Chapter One
"Yes!!!! All right!!!"
Ned was jumping and pumping his fist in the air with excitement. Hearing him, Stacey came out from the kitchen and started to make her way toward the porch where Ned was getting the mail. She thought she was pretty sure what Ned was so happy about and her beautiful face lit up in anticipation, but she had to get confirmation from seeing and talking to Ned. When she saw Ned barge inside, his eyes wide and his face flushed with joy, holding an envelope which he had ripped almost in half to open as soon as he saw who it was from, she knew.
"I got it, Stace! We're going to England!!!"
Right before squealing with delight, Stacey let out a brief, relieved sigh. Ned had won the Fulbright, and now they were going to live out a dream: they were going to live in England, hell, in a whole nother country and continent for a year, something they had always talked of how much they wanted to do. Stacey met Ned in a long, joyous embrace punctuated by a long, passionate kiss. When it ended, Ned and Stacey's eyes met and their smiling faces just stared at each other for a long, rapturous moment.
Shortly, though, reality dawned on them and they realized that, in spite of all the adventure that this experience promised, they had a hell of a lot of work to do first. They had to settle all their affairs in the U.S. and get not only themselves but their three children--their daughter and son, and, oh yes, their cat--ready to undertake this great uprooting of their lives. It wouldn't be easy, they knew, but the rewards would make up for it in the end.
This would be true in more ways than they now realized.
Chapter Two
After months of planning, preparation and panic, Stacey and Ned were finally settled in their temporary quarters in the little town of Kempshire, a short drive from Oxford. It was a dream come true: they were living in and breathing the air of a land that gave birth to a language that was the focus of Ned's whole academic life. What better place for a teacher of the history of the English language to be than in the nation where so much of its history took place? Ned could not believe his good fortune, but as good as it was now he had no idea how much better it was going to become.
After they had become moderately settled in and before Ned would start teaching his classes at the university, they decided they would like to get to know this new land in which they found themselves. They had heard from the people at the university who helped them get settled how a local company offered tours of the countryside and local places of interest, so they decided to take advantage of this and signed up for the next tour.
On the day of the tour, they left their children in the care of an authentic English "nanny" whom they had befriended and whom they had grown to trust a great deal even in the relatively short time they had been in Kempshire. She reminded them so much of Nancy, their day care provider at home. Finally, off they set on their adventure.
The main stop on the tour for the day was Stalton Manor, a huge estate consisting of a main castle located on a small rise deep within the heart of the English countryside. Its main claim to fame was that it had been the home of a baron with a reputation for both eccentricity and bizarre cruelty. Tales of what he did to locals, and actually only to females, who displeased him were legion in these parts according to the guide, though they were often lacking in specifics and what details were supplied in the legends were often the product of exaggeration and fabrication, which naturally only added to the legend. It was said the baron suffered from a severe inferiority complex, thinking others were always laughing at what in our day would be called his "geekiness," and this was at the heart of his mostly unwarranted aggression toward the people he ruled. Of course, he lived long before the invention of Paxil and Prozac.
They spent nearly an hour inside the vast mansion, taking in all the colorful pageantry and glory of a medieval English castle. The last stop on the tour of the estate was the dungeon, located, where else, in the lower reaches of the castle. Before descending into the dank chamber, the tour guide announced, right after warnings to the faint of heart, that after their visit to this dungeon the bus would leave promptly for the village from which the day's tour had commenced.
The group descended the stone staircase into the musty dungeon, which was illuminated only by a few barred windows and a couple of torches flickering like serpents' tongues. The chamber was relatively Spartan, with really few instruments of torture, but what décor was there was frightening enough. Hanging from the ceiling was one of those cages that was meant to imprison a single individual in a standing position, with no room at all to sit or really to move around at all. Dropping down from the ceiling in another part of the chamber were chains at the ends of which were manacles--invitingly hanging open, Ned and Stacey noted to themselves. In a corner of this dungeon was the huge figure of a knight's complete set of armor. The metal was still improbably shiny after all these centuries, and the feeling that it was somehow still in use was punctuated by a huge, fluffy white plume that stood at the top of the knight's helmet. And what torture chamber would be complete without a rack, a fine and fiendish specimen of which stood at almost he exact middle of the dungeon, like a ghoulish centerpiece.
After going through the whole story of the baron and his insane cruelties and in particular the atrocious deeds he committed in this very chamber, the guide announced that the tour was now over and everyone had to board the bus for the trip back to the village. The guide walked the now fairly subdued group up the stairs and into the main hall which was bathed in bright sunlight. Ned and Stacey were hanging in the back of the group and Stacey noticed that Ned, who normally was a fairly fast walker, had slowed his pace considerably until he was well behind the group. Stacey, the dutiful wife, stayed close to Ned and looked at him in mild puzzlement.
As the rest of the group turned a corner, Ned suddenly stopped and put one hand over Stacey's mouth and pushed her gently in the direction of the wall. Stacey's infectious giggle almost gave them away, for Ned's child-like playfulness here once again on display was one of the things she had always loved most about him. She nearly gave them away again when she squealed with delight as Ned started to walk with her back toward the entrance to the dungeon.
They again walked through the doorway leading to the stairs, and an unusual feature of this dungeon was that its door had bolts that locked it from the inside. Once they were on the other side of the huge wooden door--complete with bars on the tiny window, just like in a movie--Ned swung it shut and locked it with a forceful, determined motion, and then he turned to grin at Stacey like a little boy--an evil, playful little boy--and this excited her and turned her on immensely.
Ned took her delicate right hand in his and led her down the stairs to the floor. Once there, he went over the hanging cage and beckoned for Stacey to come over. Stacey dutifully obliged, smiling all the while at Ned's uncommon brazenness but also with a tinge of excitement as to what this was all about. He helped her into the cage and then locked it, and Stacey was left hanging in the cage which barely gave her room to move at all. Inside the cage, Stacey kept smiling though now it was due to the pleasure of feeling the whole situation as quite erotic.
Then Ned's voice penetrated her reverie:
"Look around you; in this terrible place you are now going to meet your ultimate fate."
And then Ned began to walk slowly around the dungeon in full view of Stacey, stopping at the various devices, including the chains hanging from the ceiling and the rack. He motioned to them as though he were a salesman in some insane showroom, all the while looking back at Stacey in the cage and flashing an evil, though still boyishly lovable, grin. Then, slowly, he walked back to her cage.
Chapter Three
These words and actions from her mild-mannered "hubby" filled Stacey with terror but at the same time were wildly exciting to her. Ned then opened the cage, helped Stacey out (note he didn't have to pull her out), and then led her gently but firmly to the hanging chains. As Ned raised her arms and fastened her wrists inside the manacles, Stacey's apprehension grew, but she had nothing but trust deep down for Ned, the man she loved who she knew would never hurt her. But this was such a new situation for both of them...
After Ned had secured Stacey's arms above her in this manner, he stood back and just looked at her for a few moments. He thought that he had never desired this beautiful woman more than he did now with her bound and completely in his power in front of him. He gently and lovingly put his hands between Stacey's outstretched arms and neck, and with his mouth he made sweet and soft contact with her lips. They kissed in this passionate, tender way for a couple of minutes, both of them totally enraptured by the moment and the situation.
At last, Ned drew himself back from Stacey a little bit and suddenly an evil grin flashed across his face accompanied by a shudder of excitement that Stacey herself noticed. Ned then began to finger Stacey's helpless underarms. She let out a reflexive laugh and also reflexively tried to bring down her arms close to her sides to protect her armpits, and due to the slack of the chains she could move her arms down a little bit but it was maddeningly not enough to protect her underarms completely, or even at all for that matter. Ned, on the other hand, oblivious--well, he was actually very "livious" to Stacey's being now completely under his control, as evidenced by the rising bulge at the top of his pants and the slight flushing of his face and more rapid breathing--continued with the tickle-torture of Stacey's armpits. The raw sensitivity and erotic qualities of her underarms was something that he had only recently discovered, but what a treasure it was.
Stacey was relatively quiet during this whole ordeal, paralyzed as she was by the movements of Ned's hands, the sensations from the touches of which, which she was completely powerless to hinder in any way, seemed to take over her whole consciousness and being, and only her wide, silent smile, the tight closing of her eyes, the reddening of her face, and the frantic writhing of her upper body to find any means of escape at all from Ned's wriggling fingers were the sole evidence of what ticklish agony she was going through. Ned thoroughly enjoyed doing this to the woman he loved so much, and his enjoyment--and arousal--were augmented by Stacey's occasional, sputtering, piteous pleas for Ned to stop. He was filled with ferocious desire for her, but he deferred any instant gratification to later, after he had taken full advantage of all that this horrid place had to offer.
For her part, Stacey's realization of how she was being tortured in this way--and the fact that there was no other person on earth whom she would have wanted to torture her like this--and her absolute helplessness made her special area come alive. Her moans now were not just due to the cruel machinations of Ned's fingers.
Then suddenly, Ned withdrew his hands and began to walk behind Stacey. Stacey was too overcome and gasping for breath to follow Ned but when she came to her senses and realized where he was now and how more vulnerable she was to whatever attack Ned was planning to launch on her, she shook with fear--and excitement. Ned buried his face in her soft hair and took in her scent which he so loved. But he did this really to hold her head and upper body in place with the weight of his tall body from above, because soon Stacey once again felt his fingers playing with her armpits, just this time from a different direction. After a desperate, anguished cry of "Nooooo!" Stacey burst out laughing and continued to do so as Ned's fingers alternately poked and danced all around her underarms. Then Ned started to stroke with both hands from Stacey's elbows down across her underarms to the area below her armpits, an area which he tweaked for good measure. Stacey suddenly remembered the scene from one of her favorite movies, Dirty Dancing, in which the dance instructor was behind Jennifer Grey and leading her through moves, and she realized--half with horror and half with amusement--that this was exactly the way Ned was touching her now. Like Grey, Stacey suitably giggled and squirmed at the actions of the man behind her, but unlike the actress in the movie, Stacey had no option but to endure Ned's devilish strokes again and again.
Then Stacey quickly--and with horror--became aware of Ned's attack on another target: her sensitive butt and inner and outer thighs, which he now ran his fingers and fingernails across in wild abandon. Stacey's total vulnerability was magnified by the fact that Ned was tickling her from behind, so she could hardly tell where the next sensation was going to come from. It decreased even more what pitiful little control she thought she had over the situation. She screamed, "Ned!! Please stop!!! NEDDDD!!!!" and "No, honey, noooooo..." but her wonderfully arousing pleas fell on deaf ears--well, once again, that's a lie; Ned *definitely* heard her begging him to stop but that had only the effect of exciting him more and more.
In a Herculean effort to overcome his lustings, Ned finally did stop. Instead of tickling Stacey, his hands now busied themselves with unsnapping the locks that held Stacey's wrists in place high above her head. Stacey's arms came down almost as if they were magnetically attracted to Ned's shoulders, and, once she caught her breath, she and Ned hugged in a long and passionate embrace. Up close to him now, she could feel Ned's erection and this made her genital area even warmer and wetter. Her titillation was magnified even more when Ned whispered into her ear, "Your torture has only begun, my love."
With that he grabbed hold of her wrists and dragged her in the direction of the rack.
Chapter Four
Stacey struggled what little strength she could muster after her just completed ordeal all the way over to the rack. Now she was to experience something new which she both dreaded and longed for. Upon reaching the large, terrible-looking device, Ned suddenly began to strip Stacey's clothes off, and very gently at that knowing how much she liked the particular outfit she was wearing. When he had completely disrobed her, he hoisted her onto the rack and fastened the restraints that went around her wrists and her ankles. The ropes the restraints were attached to were loose at this point, but Stacey was too tired and terrified to do much struggling by now anyway.
Then Ned went to head of the device, with its huge roller around which were wrapped the cords that ended in the manacles around Stacey's wrists, and grabbed the roller's handle. After a few creaks and scraping noises, the contraption roared to life. Ned noticed that in spite of its obvious age, the machinery had been recently oiled--as if, like the flickering torches, it had been specially prepared for this moment, Ned first thought and then laughed to himself about the ridiculous improbability of that notion. He turned the roller until Stacey's limbs were fully stretched out, but at the very first sign that it was about to stretch her too far and might hurt her, he immediately stopped. He loved her too much really to hurt her in any way. Stacey, on the other hand, was jolted out of her wits by the unearthly sound of the roller turning and was at first horrified to feel her arms and upper body being stretched out, but deep down in her heart she once again was absolutely sure her dear Ned was not going to hurt her.
Instead, Ned stopped just at the point where Stacey was stretched out as far as her body could go without doing any damage, with the result of course that she was now completely immobile, a cruel fact Stacey realized for herself after trying feebly to move. All she could do was watch--and whimper--as Ned walked over to the knight's armor. He reached for the plume on the top of the knight's helmet, but in doing so he knocked off one the figure's arms which came crashing to floor with a loud clang. At seeing this, a typical action of her lovably klutzy husband and the equally typical nervous reaction induced in him by the loud clang of the metal arm falling, Stacey giggled that sweet giggle of hers and on hearing this sound--which was nearly always a clarion call of arousal for him--Ned slowly turned toward her helpless figure strapped to the rack and began to pace toward her slowly and menacingly, with an even more evil grin than before on his face. Stacey's beautiful eyes widened in wild anticipation.
Then when he reached her tied-down and helpless figure, he stopped and said slowly and in his best sexy, low-pitched voice:
"Oh, you thought that was funny, did you? Well, let me give you a real reason to laugh!"
Chapter Five
At that, Ned took the plume and wiggled it gently, but furiously, back and forth over various parts of her body, starting with her face and neck. In some spots the movements of the plume made Stacey giggle more than in others, and in those places Ned dragged out the feather's stay a little more to give special attention to these magical areas. Soon Stacey's sweet giggles occasionally turned into loud and helpless laughter in amidst pitiful pleas for Ned to stop. Ned, feeling as though he were somehow channeling a merciless medieval torturer--perhaps even Lord Stalton himself--was overwhelmingly excited and his masculinity was now very nearly poking a hole out from under his pants.
Stacey sensed this too and she was wildly aroused by the thought of her sweet, gentle, *geeky* Ned showing this devilish side of himself while knowing all the while that he loved her and was as interested in her pleasure as anything. Her heart--and body--longed for him as never before. Her passion was intensified by her near-total helplessness; she could and did flail her head about wildly in response to the torture, but she could barely move any other part of her body as she was restrained so tightly. Besides, she was finding the uncontrollable strokes of the feather on her naked, restrained body surprisingly sensual and erotic. And during this ordeal she thought of the dungeon's door, locked from the inside, and the fact that the tour bus would have been long gone by now, and the panic this final realization induced put her on the threshold of new heights of ecstasy.
Ned had finally made his way down to her helpless feet, and it was here that he tarried the longest. He wiggled the plume mercilessly all over her lovely sensitive feet, and Stacey screeched and pleaded, "Nedddddd!! Sto-ha-ha-happpp! Pleee-EEEEEE-aasse!"
Finally, Ned did stop, seemingly too overcome with the emotion and excitement of the moment to continue, even to hold the large feather up any more. After a few moments in which he got hold of himself, allowing Stacey to catch her breath also, he surprised her with a sudden show of mercy. He leaned over her and undid the restraints around her wrists and ankles, and then, totally exhausted, he leaned against the large wooden frame of the rack.
Stacey just lay there motionless, her arms though free of the restraints remaining in their previously stretched-out position. Then she turned her head to gaze at Ned and, releasing a gasp of air, she lifted herself in a jolting motion in spite of how weak she was from the torment she had just undergone, and she flung herself at Ned in a wild burst of raw sexual energy. She literally tackled Ned and together they fell onto the cold, hard, dirty, straw-covered floor of the chamber. Neither of them could wait; Ned, with ample help from Stacey, ripped his pants off and they made love to each other in one of the most passionate scenes of their entire marriage.
After it was over, both lay there on the floor in a state of near-total exhaustion. After an interval, Ned lifted his head and whispered in Stacey's ear:
"Hey, how are we going to get home?"
Stacey was so tired that at first she pretended not to hear him, but the ludicrousness of his comment in the situation made her sputter out a weak giggle and that turned into an hysterical guffaw, and Ned broke out laughing also, and finally fell on Stacey's chest as the sweet sound of her laughter echoed throughout that dark, cavernous dungeon.
THE END
"Stacey in the Dungeon"
Chapter One
"Yes!!!! All right!!!"
Ned was jumping and pumping his fist in the air with excitement. Hearing him, Stacey came out from the kitchen and started to make her way toward the porch where Ned was getting the mail. She thought she was pretty sure what Ned was so happy about and her beautiful face lit up in anticipation, but she had to get confirmation from seeing and talking to Ned. When she saw Ned barge inside, his eyes wide and his face flushed with joy, holding an envelope which he had ripped almost in half to open as soon as he saw who it was from, she knew.
"I got it, Stace! We're going to England!!!"
Right before squealing with delight, Stacey let out a brief, relieved sigh. Ned had won the Fulbright, and now they were going to live out a dream: they were going to live in England, hell, in a whole nother country and continent for a year, something they had always talked of how much they wanted to do. Stacey met Ned in a long, joyous embrace punctuated by a long, passionate kiss. When it ended, Ned and Stacey's eyes met and their smiling faces just stared at each other for a long, rapturous moment.
Shortly, though, reality dawned on them and they realized that, in spite of all the adventure that this experience promised, they had a hell of a lot of work to do first. They had to settle all their affairs in the U.S. and get not only themselves but their three children--their daughter and son, and, oh yes, their cat--ready to undertake this great uprooting of their lives. It wouldn't be easy, they knew, but the rewards would make up for it in the end.
This would be true in more ways than they now realized.
Chapter Two
After months of planning, preparation and panic, Stacey and Ned were finally settled in their temporary quarters in the little town of Kempshire, a short drive from Oxford. It was a dream come true: they were living in and breathing the air of a land that gave birth to a language that was the focus of Ned's whole academic life. What better place for a teacher of the history of the English language to be than in the nation where so much of its history took place? Ned could not believe his good fortune, but as good as it was now he had no idea how much better it was going to become.
After they had become moderately settled in and before Ned would start teaching his classes at the university, they decided they would like to get to know this new land in which they found themselves. They had heard from the people at the university who helped them get settled how a local company offered tours of the countryside and local places of interest, so they decided to take advantage of this and signed up for the next tour.
On the day of the tour, they left their children in the care of an authentic English "nanny" whom they had befriended and whom they had grown to trust a great deal even in the relatively short time they had been in Kempshire. She reminded them so much of Nancy, their day care provider at home. Finally, off they set on their adventure.
The main stop on the tour for the day was Stalton Manor, a huge estate consisting of a main castle located on a small rise deep within the heart of the English countryside. Its main claim to fame was that it had been the home of a baron with a reputation for both eccentricity and bizarre cruelty. Tales of what he did to locals, and actually only to females, who displeased him were legion in these parts according to the guide, though they were often lacking in specifics and what details were supplied in the legends were often the product of exaggeration and fabrication, which naturally only added to the legend. It was said the baron suffered from a severe inferiority complex, thinking others were always laughing at what in our day would be called his "geekiness," and this was at the heart of his mostly unwarranted aggression toward the people he ruled. Of course, he lived long before the invention of Paxil and Prozac.
They spent nearly an hour inside the vast mansion, taking in all the colorful pageantry and glory of a medieval English castle. The last stop on the tour of the estate was the dungeon, located, where else, in the lower reaches of the castle. Before descending into the dank chamber, the tour guide announced, right after warnings to the faint of heart, that after their visit to this dungeon the bus would leave promptly for the village from which the day's tour had commenced.
The group descended the stone staircase into the musty dungeon, which was illuminated only by a few barred windows and a couple of torches flickering like serpents' tongues. The chamber was relatively Spartan, with really few instruments of torture, but what décor was there was frightening enough. Hanging from the ceiling was one of those cages that was meant to imprison a single individual in a standing position, with no room at all to sit or really to move around at all. Dropping down from the ceiling in another part of the chamber were chains at the ends of which were manacles--invitingly hanging open, Ned and Stacey noted to themselves. In a corner of this dungeon was the huge figure of a knight's complete set of armor. The metal was still improbably shiny after all these centuries, and the feeling that it was somehow still in use was punctuated by a huge, fluffy white plume that stood at the top of the knight's helmet. And what torture chamber would be complete without a rack, a fine and fiendish specimen of which stood at almost he exact middle of the dungeon, like a ghoulish centerpiece.
After going through the whole story of the baron and his insane cruelties and in particular the atrocious deeds he committed in this very chamber, the guide announced that the tour was now over and everyone had to board the bus for the trip back to the village. The guide walked the now fairly subdued group up the stairs and into the main hall which was bathed in bright sunlight. Ned and Stacey were hanging in the back of the group and Stacey noticed that Ned, who normally was a fairly fast walker, had slowed his pace considerably until he was well behind the group. Stacey, the dutiful wife, stayed close to Ned and looked at him in mild puzzlement.
As the rest of the group turned a corner, Ned suddenly stopped and put one hand over Stacey's mouth and pushed her gently in the direction of the wall. Stacey's infectious giggle almost gave them away, for Ned's child-like playfulness here once again on display was one of the things she had always loved most about him. She nearly gave them away again when she squealed with delight as Ned started to walk with her back toward the entrance to the dungeon.
They again walked through the doorway leading to the stairs, and an unusual feature of this dungeon was that its door had bolts that locked it from the inside. Once they were on the other side of the huge wooden door--complete with bars on the tiny window, just like in a movie--Ned swung it shut and locked it with a forceful, determined motion, and then he turned to grin at Stacey like a little boy--an evil, playful little boy--and this excited her and turned her on immensely.
Ned took her delicate right hand in his and led her down the stairs to the floor. Once there, he went over the hanging cage and beckoned for Stacey to come over. Stacey dutifully obliged, smiling all the while at Ned's uncommon brazenness but also with a tinge of excitement as to what this was all about. He helped her into the cage and then locked it, and Stacey was left hanging in the cage which barely gave her room to move at all. Inside the cage, Stacey kept smiling though now it was due to the pleasure of feeling the whole situation as quite erotic.
Then Ned's voice penetrated her reverie:
"Look around you; in this terrible place you are now going to meet your ultimate fate."
And then Ned began to walk slowly around the dungeon in full view of Stacey, stopping at the various devices, including the chains hanging from the ceiling and the rack. He motioned to them as though he were a salesman in some insane showroom, all the while looking back at Stacey in the cage and flashing an evil, though still boyishly lovable, grin. Then, slowly, he walked back to her cage.
Chapter Three
These words and actions from her mild-mannered "hubby" filled Stacey with terror but at the same time were wildly exciting to her. Ned then opened the cage, helped Stacey out (note he didn't have to pull her out), and then led her gently but firmly to the hanging chains. As Ned raised her arms and fastened her wrists inside the manacles, Stacey's apprehension grew, but she had nothing but trust deep down for Ned, the man she loved who she knew would never hurt her. But this was such a new situation for both of them...
After Ned had secured Stacey's arms above her in this manner, he stood back and just looked at her for a few moments. He thought that he had never desired this beautiful woman more than he did now with her bound and completely in his power in front of him. He gently and lovingly put his hands between Stacey's outstretched arms and neck, and with his mouth he made sweet and soft contact with her lips. They kissed in this passionate, tender way for a couple of minutes, both of them totally enraptured by the moment and the situation.
At last, Ned drew himself back from Stacey a little bit and suddenly an evil grin flashed across his face accompanied by a shudder of excitement that Stacey herself noticed. Ned then began to finger Stacey's helpless underarms. She let out a reflexive laugh and also reflexively tried to bring down her arms close to her sides to protect her armpits, and due to the slack of the chains she could move her arms down a little bit but it was maddeningly not enough to protect her underarms completely, or even at all for that matter. Ned, on the other hand, oblivious--well, he was actually very "livious" to Stacey's being now completely under his control, as evidenced by the rising bulge at the top of his pants and the slight flushing of his face and more rapid breathing--continued with the tickle-torture of Stacey's armpits. The raw sensitivity and erotic qualities of her underarms was something that he had only recently discovered, but what a treasure it was.
Stacey was relatively quiet during this whole ordeal, paralyzed as she was by the movements of Ned's hands, the sensations from the touches of which, which she was completely powerless to hinder in any way, seemed to take over her whole consciousness and being, and only her wide, silent smile, the tight closing of her eyes, the reddening of her face, and the frantic writhing of her upper body to find any means of escape at all from Ned's wriggling fingers were the sole evidence of what ticklish agony she was going through. Ned thoroughly enjoyed doing this to the woman he loved so much, and his enjoyment--and arousal--were augmented by Stacey's occasional, sputtering, piteous pleas for Ned to stop. He was filled with ferocious desire for her, but he deferred any instant gratification to later, after he had taken full advantage of all that this horrid place had to offer.
For her part, Stacey's realization of how she was being tortured in this way--and the fact that there was no other person on earth whom she would have wanted to torture her like this--and her absolute helplessness made her special area come alive. Her moans now were not just due to the cruel machinations of Ned's fingers.
Then suddenly, Ned withdrew his hands and began to walk behind Stacey. Stacey was too overcome and gasping for breath to follow Ned but when she came to her senses and realized where he was now and how more vulnerable she was to whatever attack Ned was planning to launch on her, she shook with fear--and excitement. Ned buried his face in her soft hair and took in her scent which he so loved. But he did this really to hold her head and upper body in place with the weight of his tall body from above, because soon Stacey once again felt his fingers playing with her armpits, just this time from a different direction. After a desperate, anguished cry of "Nooooo!" Stacey burst out laughing and continued to do so as Ned's fingers alternately poked and danced all around her underarms. Then Ned started to stroke with both hands from Stacey's elbows down across her underarms to the area below her armpits, an area which he tweaked for good measure. Stacey suddenly remembered the scene from one of her favorite movies, Dirty Dancing, in which the dance instructor was behind Jennifer Grey and leading her through moves, and she realized--half with horror and half with amusement--that this was exactly the way Ned was touching her now. Like Grey, Stacey suitably giggled and squirmed at the actions of the man behind her, but unlike the actress in the movie, Stacey had no option but to endure Ned's devilish strokes again and again.
Then Stacey quickly--and with horror--became aware of Ned's attack on another target: her sensitive butt and inner and outer thighs, which he now ran his fingers and fingernails across in wild abandon. Stacey's total vulnerability was magnified by the fact that Ned was tickling her from behind, so she could hardly tell where the next sensation was going to come from. It decreased even more what pitiful little control she thought she had over the situation. She screamed, "Ned!! Please stop!!! NEDDDD!!!!" and "No, honey, noooooo..." but her wonderfully arousing pleas fell on deaf ears--well, once again, that's a lie; Ned *definitely* heard her begging him to stop but that had only the effect of exciting him more and more.
In a Herculean effort to overcome his lustings, Ned finally did stop. Instead of tickling Stacey, his hands now busied themselves with unsnapping the locks that held Stacey's wrists in place high above her head. Stacey's arms came down almost as if they were magnetically attracted to Ned's shoulders, and, once she caught her breath, she and Ned hugged in a long and passionate embrace. Up close to him now, she could feel Ned's erection and this made her genital area even warmer and wetter. Her titillation was magnified even more when Ned whispered into her ear, "Your torture has only begun, my love."
With that he grabbed hold of her wrists and dragged her in the direction of the rack.
Chapter Four
Stacey struggled what little strength she could muster after her just completed ordeal all the way over to the rack. Now she was to experience something new which she both dreaded and longed for. Upon reaching the large, terrible-looking device, Ned suddenly began to strip Stacey's clothes off, and very gently at that knowing how much she liked the particular outfit she was wearing. When he had completely disrobed her, he hoisted her onto the rack and fastened the restraints that went around her wrists and her ankles. The ropes the restraints were attached to were loose at this point, but Stacey was too tired and terrified to do much struggling by now anyway.
Then Ned went to head of the device, with its huge roller around which were wrapped the cords that ended in the manacles around Stacey's wrists, and grabbed the roller's handle. After a few creaks and scraping noises, the contraption roared to life. Ned noticed that in spite of its obvious age, the machinery had been recently oiled--as if, like the flickering torches, it had been specially prepared for this moment, Ned first thought and then laughed to himself about the ridiculous improbability of that notion. He turned the roller until Stacey's limbs were fully stretched out, but at the very first sign that it was about to stretch her too far and might hurt her, he immediately stopped. He loved her too much really to hurt her in any way. Stacey, on the other hand, was jolted out of her wits by the unearthly sound of the roller turning and was at first horrified to feel her arms and upper body being stretched out, but deep down in her heart she once again was absolutely sure her dear Ned was not going to hurt her.
Instead, Ned stopped just at the point where Stacey was stretched out as far as her body could go without doing any damage, with the result of course that she was now completely immobile, a cruel fact Stacey realized for herself after trying feebly to move. All she could do was watch--and whimper--as Ned walked over to the knight's armor. He reached for the plume on the top of the knight's helmet, but in doing so he knocked off one the figure's arms which came crashing to floor with a loud clang. At seeing this, a typical action of her lovably klutzy husband and the equally typical nervous reaction induced in him by the loud clang of the metal arm falling, Stacey giggled that sweet giggle of hers and on hearing this sound--which was nearly always a clarion call of arousal for him--Ned slowly turned toward her helpless figure strapped to the rack and began to pace toward her slowly and menacingly, with an even more evil grin than before on his face. Stacey's beautiful eyes widened in wild anticipation.
Then when he reached her tied-down and helpless figure, he stopped and said slowly and in his best sexy, low-pitched voice:
"Oh, you thought that was funny, did you? Well, let me give you a real reason to laugh!"
Chapter Five
At that, Ned took the plume and wiggled it gently, but furiously, back and forth over various parts of her body, starting with her face and neck. In some spots the movements of the plume made Stacey giggle more than in others, and in those places Ned dragged out the feather's stay a little more to give special attention to these magical areas. Soon Stacey's sweet giggles occasionally turned into loud and helpless laughter in amidst pitiful pleas for Ned to stop. Ned, feeling as though he were somehow channeling a merciless medieval torturer--perhaps even Lord Stalton himself--was overwhelmingly excited and his masculinity was now very nearly poking a hole out from under his pants.
Stacey sensed this too and she was wildly aroused by the thought of her sweet, gentle, *geeky* Ned showing this devilish side of himself while knowing all the while that he loved her and was as interested in her pleasure as anything. Her heart--and body--longed for him as never before. Her passion was intensified by her near-total helplessness; she could and did flail her head about wildly in response to the torture, but she could barely move any other part of her body as she was restrained so tightly. Besides, she was finding the uncontrollable strokes of the feather on her naked, restrained body surprisingly sensual and erotic. And during this ordeal she thought of the dungeon's door, locked from the inside, and the fact that the tour bus would have been long gone by now, and the panic this final realization induced put her on the threshold of new heights of ecstasy.
Ned had finally made his way down to her helpless feet, and it was here that he tarried the longest. He wiggled the plume mercilessly all over her lovely sensitive feet, and Stacey screeched and pleaded, "Nedddddd!! Sto-ha-ha-happpp! Pleee-EEEEEE-aasse!"
Finally, Ned did stop, seemingly too overcome with the emotion and excitement of the moment to continue, even to hold the large feather up any more. After a few moments in which he got hold of himself, allowing Stacey to catch her breath also, he surprised her with a sudden show of mercy. He leaned over her and undid the restraints around her wrists and ankles, and then, totally exhausted, he leaned against the large wooden frame of the rack.
Stacey just lay there motionless, her arms though free of the restraints remaining in their previously stretched-out position. Then she turned her head to gaze at Ned and, releasing a gasp of air, she lifted herself in a jolting motion in spite of how weak she was from the torment she had just undergone, and she flung herself at Ned in a wild burst of raw sexual energy. She literally tackled Ned and together they fell onto the cold, hard, dirty, straw-covered floor of the chamber. Neither of them could wait; Ned, with ample help from Stacey, ripped his pants off and they made love to each other in one of the most passionate scenes of their entire marriage.
After it was over, both lay there on the floor in a state of near-total exhaustion. After an interval, Ned lifted his head and whispered in Stacey's ear:
"Hey, how are we going to get home?"
Stacey was so tired that at first she pretended not to hear him, but the ludicrousness of his comment in the situation made her sputter out a weak giggle and that turned into an hysterical guffaw, and Ned broke out laughing also, and finally fell on Stacey's chest as the sweet sound of her laughter echoed throughout that dark, cavernous dungeon.
THE END
