Carter & Lane: House of Horrors Part 2

“Carter & Lane: House of Horrors” Part 2

Downtown Tokyo. Afternoon.

Detectives Tomiko & Akira Lane, traveling together to visit their respective relatives in Japan, as well as taking a much-needed break from police work, strolled down a busy street in one of the many shopping districts in downtown Tokyo. Carrying shopping bags, their high heels clicked along as they made their way toward a café. Finding a table, they sat down to order a drink and take stock of all the fun they were having, oblivious to the plight of their partner and friend back in the States. “We should have done this sooner,” said Tomiko, relaxing in the chair. “I hear you honey,” said Akira, picking up a menu. “Too bad we couldn’t convince Christina to come out with us. You know how much she loves shopping…she would have LOVED this,” said Akira, patting her many shopping bags with her hand. “I agree, but still…someone needed to stay back at the office. It’s only the three of us running the FCU. We need to convince the brass upstairs to let us hire another detective. Especially with all the fetish crimes happening lately…it’s getting too much for us to handle,” said Tomiko.

“So do you have an idea about who might be a good fit in the unit?” asked Akira. “I do know of this one detective. She’s a good friend of mine. She just made detective grade this past year. Sweet and sexy, she’d be great for undercover work - puts the criminals at ease with her innocence before we sweep in and bust some heads,” said Tomiko. “I’ll give her a call when we get home,” Tomiko continued. “Sweet and innocent…sounds just like me,” said Akira with a smile. “Ok girl, let’s do something nice for Christina. She’s probably sitting in the office right now working. You know how she’s a little shoe whore…let’s buy her some sexy heels!” said Akira excitedly. “Awesome!” exclaimed Tomiko.

At that very moment, across the Pacific, back in the United States. Underneath the estate house of Mr. & Mrs. Miller, inside their secret playroom. 7:18PM.

Darkness. Inky black. Then light, slowly trickling in. Detective Christina Carter opened her eyes gradually, the effects of her drugged coffee wearing off. As her vision returned, Christina’s eyes adjusted to the bright lights in the room. Then, as if suddenly remembering what happened, her eyes popped open wide, a look of shock upon her face. “WHAT THE FUCK!?!” screamed Christina, as she looked down at her naked body. Detective Carter was completely naked, save for a pair of crotch less sheer suntan pantyhose. Her vision coming back to her, she tried to move her arms, and then her legs, and immediately realized was restrained. Her eyes darting downward at her naked body, she realized she was tied in some kind of device that resembled a gynecological chair. Raised about three feet above the floor, Christina lay on her back at a slight incline. Her arms were pulled above her head, her wrists and elbows strapped down in thick leather cuffs to the chair. More black leather straps ran above and below her breasts, securing her into the chair. Her pantyhose-encased legs were pulled apart wide…almost painfully wide, nearly five feet apart in a massive spread, strapped down to the extended arms of the chair at the thighs, knees and ankles.

“NNGGUUGHH!!!” grunted Christina, as she violently pulled at her arms, and tried to kick with her legs. But the leather straps didn’t budge, and she could hardly move an inch. She started to feel the strain on her pussy, her legs spread incredibly wide, as she did her best to shift her body to try and gain some relief. “FUCKERS!!!” she screamed out loud, her voice dripping with anger. Christina looked around the room, realizing she was alone. As her eyes moved around the room, she realized just how large and cavernous it was. With her head unrestrained, she was able to look around and get a sense of the scope. The chair Christina was tied into was located in the exact center of what could easily be a 40-foot by 70-foot room, if not larger, with a ten or twelve-foot tall ceiling. The walls were painted a beige color, with glossy-white floor and ceiling trim. The floors were some type of light-colored hardwoods. Throughout the room were various bondage equipment and furniture. Christina counted at least a dozen pieces, from stocks, to horses, to hanging cages and manacles, a king-size four-poster European-style bed, to what looked like medical examination tables.

Christina started looking around the room more closely, examining each wall. The long wall directly in front of her had what appeared to be built-in custom floor-to-ceiling shelving. Not something out of place in a hobby room, but as Christina began to examine the items on the shelves, a worried expression crept upon her face. Lying on the shelves were hundreds and hundreds of sex toys, bondage equipment, ropes, gags, vibrators, whips, chains, crops, cuffs, dildo’s, medical equipment, and more. One shelving unit in particular made her cringe a little when she saw the contents: what appeared to be cattle prods, tasers, and stun guns. Further down the room to her right was the shorter wall, with a media setup. A large desk with a half-dozen flat screen monitors, and a large plasma television hanging on the wall above the desk. Flaking the desk on either side were more built-in shelving, with what appeared, to Christina anyway, as a large collection of DVD movies. Hundreds of DVD’s. Possibly thousands. Nearby, she counted at least a half-dozen expensive-looking cameras and camcorders, all on tripods.

Before Christina could turn her head around to look at the long wall that was directly behind her, she immediately looked to her left, at a set of double doors with brass fixtures, as a noise of someone approaching startled her. With a scowl on her face, Christina awaited whomever was about to enter. “C’mon you fuckers, whoever you are, come and get me…” whispered Christina. Suddenly the double doors opened, in walking the husband and wife that she was interviewing when she passed out. But something was different. When she last saw them they were wearing casual clothes. Now, as they walked into the room, she saw they were wearing formal attire. The man was wearing a black tuxedo, white shirt, with a black bowtie. The dirty-blonde woman was wearing a black evening gown, with sheer black pantyhose and stiletto heels. The man carried a large framed picture, covered by a white sheet, in one of his hands, a bottle of champagne in the other. The woman was carrying two empty wine glasses, as they both sauntered up slowly toward the bound detective.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?!” screamed Christina, her face red with anger. “YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS!?! KNOCKING ME OUT, TAKING OFF MY CLOTHES, TYING ME INTO THIS FUCKING THING!! DON’T EVEN THINK YOU’RE GETTING AWAY WITH THIS…IN TWENTY MINUTES I’LL HAVE A HUNDRED COPS BANGING DOWN YOUR DOOR, AND THEN YOU’LL BE FUCKED!!” Christina continued. “You untie me right now, and I’ll do what I can for you,” said Christina, her voice more calm. The man and woman, now standing a few feet from Christina, just stood there, looking at her body, wicked smiles on their faces, not saying a word. “WHAT!?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!?!” screamed Christina, her expression changing from anger to nervousness. “SAY SOMETHING!?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!” said Christina.

“My dear Christina,” said the woman, excitement in her voice. “We never properly introduced ourselves. You know our names from the address listing, but we never made formal introductions. I’m Jennifer, and this is my husband Ronald,” said Jennifer, cocking her head to the side, resting it on Ronald’s shoulder. “You may have recognized us from before, from our many charitable work we’ve done. Ronald here is something of a charity fanatic…he just LOVES to donate large sums of money to worthy causes. To do his part to make the world a better place. Isn’t that right honey?” said Jennifer, looking at Ronald. “Exactly right sweetie,” said Ronald, putting down the champagne bottle on a nearby table. “Why just last week they named another hospital after Ron…you probably heard about it, it was in all the local papers,” said Jennifer, as she put down the wine glasses next to the bottle. Christina lay there with a stunned expression on her face, not knowing what to say. “Oh, I’m sorry…where are my manners,” said Jennifer, walking up to Christina, standing in between her legs. “You were asking about what you’re doing here, and why we have you tied up…was that right?” asked Jennifer. “DON’T FUCKING PLAY GAMES WITH ME BITCH…” said Christina, angrily. “YOU AND YOUR COCKSUCKER OF A HUSBAND LET ME OUT RIGH,” said Christina, but suddenly stopped mid-sentence as Jennifer plunged her right hand into Christina’s exposed pussy. “UNNGGHHAA!!!” cried Christina as she felt Jennifer’s fingers poke deep inside her vagina. “FUCKING BITCH!!” screamed Christina, looking Jennifer dead in the eye.

After a few seconds of poking her fingers around in Christina’s pussy, Jennifer pulled them out, and bending in forward over Christina’s restrained body so that her face was inches away from Christina’s, put the very fingers she was exploring Christina’s pussy with, in her mouth, and began sucking on them. “YOU FUCKING SICK CUNT!” said Christina, a look of disgust on her face. “AAHAHAHAHA!” laughed Jennifer. “Yummy…” said Jennifer, a devious smirk on her face. Ronald took the covered picture frame he was holding and started to walk toward the long wall behind Christina. Christina ignored him, her eyes fixed on Jennifer, her face beat red with anger. “You know,” said Christina, her voice lower, but still heavy. “BITCH…you better PRAY that I don’t get free, because when I do…I’m going to FUCK YOU UP!” said Christina, screaming the last few words in Jennifer’s face. Jennifer just looked at her and smiled. “That’s right honey…you keep up the tough act routine. You must have not seen our little wall of remembrance, did you?” asked Jennifer. Without warning, Jennifer, using both hands, grabbed Christina by the neck and face, twisting Christina’s head backwards. Christina tried to fight her, straining her muscles in her neck, but suddenly stopped once she caught a glimpse of what was on the long wall behind her. It was a sight she was not prepared for, as all the anger drained from her face, and was replaced by a look of horror.

Stretching along the nearly 70-foot long wall, from floor to ceiling, were hundreds and hundreds of hanging framed pictures. The frames ranged in size from 8x10’s, to larger 2-foot by 3-foot poster size. All were framed in glass, the frames themselves dark mahogany wood. They went on forever. But the frames were not what made Christina cringe in horror. It was the pictures. Hundreds of pictures, some full-color, others black-and-white…ALL of them featuring naked women wearing nylons, in various states of despair. Some with pained looks of pleasure on their faces. Others with maniacal, tortuous expressions of laughter etched on their faces, no doubt caused by endless days…weeks…months of extreme tickle torture. Yet others sobbing…crying. And in many of the pictures, were the smiling faces of Ronald and Jennifer, as they abused these women. Pictures of Ronald tickling a poor woman’s nylon foot while she screamed. Pictures of Jennifer, her hand buried deep in a poor woman’s vagina, an expression of terror on the victims face. Hundreds of pictures.

Ronald had hung the covered picture on the wall, and was busy affixing a small placard beneath it. The placard simply read “Candice.” Jennifer put her nose and mouth against Christina’s cheek. “You have to understand how big of a moment this is for Ron and me. You’re the first slave we’ve had here that’s seen our wall. That wall represents ten years of our work. Our happiness. Our life,” said Jennifer, sensually. “In ten years of bringing women here against their will…having our way with their bodies…fulfilling all our fantasy desires…you’re the first to see it. I hope you appreciate this gift we’re bestowing upon you,” said Jennifer, as she began kissing Christina’s cheek and neck. Christina didn’t react, as she lay there staring at the wall of pictures. Hundreds of women, no doubt kidnapped by these two. Brought here…tortured, their bodies teased and pleasured against their wills, before being dumped like garbage. A tear started to form in one of Christina’s eyes, as she shut them immediately, not giving either of her captors the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“Ron dear…I think we should unveil our latest masterpiece to Christina here, don’t you agree?” said Jennifer. “Of course my dear,” said Ronald, a smile forming on his face. Christina opened her eyes, looking at the white cloth-covered picture hanging on the wall, above the placard that said “Candice.” Ronald, a proud look on his face, pulled down the cloth, as Christina gasped in horror at the picture. It was the blonde woman she had rescued earlier in the day in the middle of the road. The photo featured the blonde woman, naked save for a pair of black pantyhose, restrained in the same contraption Christina was tied into, with Ronald tickling both of her nylon feet with his fingers, while Jennifer was busy shoving a large dildo down the poor girls throat. The expression on the blonde woman’s face made Christina shudder; it was a mix of pain, terror, horror, fear, and laughter, as she choked on the dildo being shoved in her mouth while being forced to laugh from the tickling. “Christina, meet Candice,” said Jennifer. “Candice was our latest project. We wanted to enjoy her longer, but she was just too innocent. Too sweet. She wouldn’t put up a fight. We like fighters…it’s more fun for us when we finally break them,” said Jennifer, as she stepped away from Christina, walking over toward Ronald.

With tears welling up in her eyes, Christina fought them back, shaking her head. “Your fucking deranged fantasy world ends now, you SICK FUCKS!” Christina screamed at them. Christina started violently pulling at her bonds, using her arms and legs, trying with all her might. With their arms around each other, Ronald and Jennifer walked over to the struggling Christina. “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAKS!!” screamed Christina. “Silly girl, those leather straps have a breaking strength of several tons. You’re NOT going anywhere,” said Ronald. “FUCK YOU!” screamed Christina at them, as she continued to struggle. “So honey, what shall we do with our guest first?” asked Ronald, looking at Jennifer. “Well dear, she likes to struggle. Let’s give her something to struggle about,” said Jennifer. Both Ronald and Jennifer pulled up stools, taking a respective seat in front of Christina’s widely-spread, bound sheer suntan pantyhose feet. They both sat there for a few moments, just looking Christina in the eye, smiles on their faces. “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!” Christina screamed at them in rapid succession, knowing what was about to come.

A few Hours Later. A hotel room. Downtown Tokyo.

Detective Akira Lane lay on the bed, worn out from her day of shopping with her friend and fellow FCU Detective Tomiko. Akira was wearing just a pair of blue jeans with sheer black pantyhose underneath, along with her high heels. She kicked off her heels and began rubbing her nylon feet. “GIRL…we need to stop walking everywhere and take a taxi next time!” said Akira. “C’mon, a little walking around never hurt anyone,” said Tomiko, walking in from the bathroom, wearing only her sheer suntan pantyhose. “My feet are killing me,” said Akira, continuing to rub her nylon feet. “Aww poor baby,” said Tomiko in a mocking fashion. “Does your little itty bitty pantyhose feet hurt?” she continued, in a teasing manner. “Girl don’t start with me. I’m half a world away from home. I miss my dogs. And YES…my itty bitty nylon feet hurt!” said Akira, a smile on her face. Tomiko laid down beside Akira, brushing Akira’s hair away from her face with her hand. “I miss Christina,” said Akira. “I know. Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon, and back to the grind of locking up freaks and creeps. Try to enjoy the time away from all that while you can,” said Tomiko.

Tomiko, using her powerful arms, grabbed Akira by the ankles and pulled her down the bed with a sudden jerking motion, causing her to slide down toward the foot of the bed. “He…HEY!” Akira said, surprised. Tomiko quickly put Akira in an ankle lock, with Akira pinned face-down on the bed, Tomiko standing beside it, as she twisted Akira’s sheer black pantyhose right foot. “WHAT THE HELL ARE DOING!?!” screamed Akira, twisting her head to look at Tomiko. “Just taking your mind off your foot pain…I think a little laughter might help,” said Tomiko. “OH NO YOU DON,” screamed Akira, realizing what Tomiko was about to do, but cut off mid-sentence as Tomiko began scrabbling her fingers all over Akira’s sheer black pantyhose sole. “GGOODDHHAHAHASSTOOPPAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Akira, as she felt Tomiko’s fingers all over her helplessly trapped right pantyhose foot. “BITCH! BITCH! SSTOOHPAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Akira. But Tomiko was having too much fun, scribbling her fingers up and down Akira’s right sheer black pantyhose foot, running her fingers up and down the sole, the heel, the arch, and digging into her nylon toes. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! NOOHHOHAHAHAHA!!!” Akira continued to scream.

After about two minutes of nonstop tickle torture, Akira was already beginning to sweat. Tomiko released Akira’s trapped right nylon foot, but then quickly grabbed her left nylon foot, and trapped it. “NOOOO!” yelled Akira. “C’MON…NO MORE TI…TICKLING!” she continued, panting. Tomiko ignored her, a devilish smile on her face, as she now continued her tickle torture onslaught on Akira’s left black pantyhose foot, scribbling her fingers up and down the sole, causing Akira to erupt in another fit of forced laughter, screaming, and begging. “NNOHHAHAHAHAHSSTOOPAHAHAHAHA!!!” screamed Akira. “MMERRCCCYYYYHHAHAHAMMERRRCCCCYYAAHAHA!!!” she screamed. Tomiko continued to tickle Akira’s super ticklish nylon foot, enjoying the power she had over her smaller fellow detective. “C’mon girl…pretend I’m some crazy villain that’s torturing you…what would you do to me get me to stop!?!” said Tomiko in a playful manner, as she continued to tickle Akira’s nylon foot.

“NNOHAHAHA…PPROBBABLLYHAHAHA….THISSSSHAHA!!” Akira screamed, as she used her free nylon foot to kick Tomiko in the stomach. “UNNNGGH!” yelped Tomiko, falling backwards onto the floor from the force of the kick. Akira quickly jumped to her feet, racing over to the momentarily-stunned Tomiko. Grabbing Tomiko by the arm, Akira used her momentum and swung Tomiko onto the bed, before leaping on top of the face-down Tomiko, pinning her down. With Tomiko pinned down, laying face down in the middle of the bed with Akira on top of her, Akira was a flash, quickly going to work. Grabbing some spare pantyhose off the nightstand, Akira tied Tomiko into a hogtie before Tomiko could even react. “Whu…HEY!” screamed Tomiko, realizing that she was now tied in a very strict hogtie on the bed. “Well sweetie, you DID ask me what I would do if a nasty villain was tickle torturing my nylon feet!” said Akira in a mocking voice. “And THIS is what I would do…kick their ass and tie them up, ready to haul them off to the precinct. Of course…if they tickled me like that, you know I might be thinking of getting some payback,” said Akira, a wicked little smile forming on her face. “OH NO…WAIT!” said Tomiko, realizing what was about to happen.

It was too late, as Akira began scrabbling both of her hands all over Tomiko’s sheer suntan pantyhose feet, bound in a strict hogtie, as they wiggled and tried to escape Akira’s tickling fingers. “NNOOHHAHAHAAHAHA!!!” screamed Tomiko. “NNOOTTMMYYNNYYLLOONFFEETTT!!!” she screamed, as Akira ran her fingers all over Tomiko’s suntan pantyhose soles, causing Tomiko to scream, laugh, and beg for mercy. “PLLLEEASEEHHAHAHAHA…IIIGGGIVVEEUUPP!!!” screamed Tomiko. “NNOOTTTHHHEEETTOOOEESSS!!!” she screamed, as she felt Akira’s fingers explore her nylon-covered toes, digging into them. “C’mon girl, you know the expression…payback is a bitch!” said Akira, still smiling as she continued to have her way with her partners sexy nylon feet. “GGOODDHAHAHAHANNNOOHHAHAHA!!!” was all the Tomiko could scream, as her suntan pantyhose soles were raked up and down by Akira’s manicured nails.

After several minutes of tickle torturing Tomiko’s nylon feet, Akira finally stopped. “THHANN….THHANKK…THANK YOU!” said a sweaty, panting Tomiko. Akira moved over to the foot of the bed, sitting in front of Tomiko’s face, still tied in a strict hogtie. “SO…you learn your lesson, or do you need me to tickle those ticklish nylon tootsies of yours some more?” asked Akira. “You KNOW how much I love tickling them…if you think you haven’t learned your lesson, I’m happy to tickle you all night long,” said Akira, the wicked smile returning to her face. “NOOO!!” screamed Tomiko, totally fearful of the possibility of having her pantyhose feet tickle tortured all night. “I learned my lesson…please untie me,” Tomiko continued. “Well, you know this all started because I said my nylon feet hurt from all that walking around. I think if you REALLY learned your lesson, before I untie you, I think you should worship my nylon feet, and give them an oral massage,” said Akira, a playful smirk on her face. “Oh you sneaky little bitch!” said Tomiko in a playful fashion. “Live it up now, because payback is coming!” said Tomiko, smiling.

“Just you wai,” said Tomiko, cut off as Akira shoved her right sheer black pantyhose foot into Tomiko’s mouth. “Less talk, more suck,” said Akira, loving having control over her friend. “VVVVHHUUTTEEVVVERRUUUSSAYYY” said Tomiko, as she sucked on Akira’s sheer black pantyhose toes, using her tongue to lick in between the toes, sucking on each pantyhose-covered toe individually. Using her tongue, Tomiko licked from Akira’s heel all the way up her nylon sole. Akira laid back on the bed, as Tomiko continued to nibble on and lick Akira’s sheer black pantyhose feet. As much as Tomiko tried to make it seem like she was going to give Akira some major payback, she secretly enjoyed having her smaller, fellow detective dominate her like this, forcing her to suck Akira’s nylon feet, and being tied up and tickle tortured. But she would never give Akira the satisfaction of knowing how she really felt.

Hours later. The estate of Mr. & Mrs. Miller. Underneath the manor house, in their playroom.

Christina wanted to die. Just die. DIE. For what must have seemed like days, but in reality was about four hours, Detective Christina Carter had been tickle tortured all over her body. Every inch of her gorgeous body had been explored by Ronald and Jennifer and their tickling fingers. Her armpits. Her ribs. Her hips. Her neck. Her knees. Her thighs. Her pussy. And of course…her sheer suntan pantyhose feet. Her nylon feet received the worst of it, because Ronald and Jennifer soon found out Christina’s feet was her true weakness, and exploited it to the fullest. Detective Carter was a strong woman, no doubt about it. But nothing in her police training could have prepared her for the cruel emotional and physical abuse she suffered at the hands of her captors. In addition to the tickling, she had been forced to cum over and over, nearly a dozen times in the last few hours. Her body glistened with sweat, as it dripped on the floor in almost a steady stream. Her suntan pantyhose were soaked through with perspiration, now a shade darker than when they began. Her lustrous brown hair now matted and soaked. Her makeup completely gone, having run down her face. Tears running down her face. She was a mess, but she was not broken. Not yet.

Flashback to four hours ago…

“FUCK YOU COCKSUCKERS!” screamed Christina, as Ronald and Jennifer pulled up comfortably padded stools, Ronald taking a seat at Christina’s right nylon foot, Jennifer sitting at Christina’s left. “Now is that any way for a lady to talk?” said Jennifer. “I think we’re going to have to do something about that filthy mouth of hers, Jen,” said Ronald. “Tell me something Christina…have you ever been…tickle tortured?” asked Jennifer. Christina had certainly been in perilous tickling situations before, where criminals had tickle tortured her, but she wasn’t about to give these two the satisfaction of knowing that. “TICKLING???” said Christina, trying to sound as if it was a foreign concept to her. “You want to tickle me!?! Good luck with that you FUCKING PSYCHO’S!” said Christina, trying to sound brave. “You’ll just be wasting your time, because I’m NOT ticklish, FREAKS!” she continued. “Oh…I beg to differ, my dear,” said Jennifer. “You’re most definitely ticklish. Ticklish beyond your wildest imaginations. You want to know WHY you think you’re not ticklish? Because you haven’t met US before,” said Jennifer, a horribly wicked smile across her face. “Gas?” asked Ronald, looking at Jennifer. “Absolutely.”

Ronald walked around the restrained Christina, as she turned her head, following him with her eyes. He bent down hear her head, and was fiddling with something underneath the table she was restrained on, away from her line of sight. “Oh, I can see you trying to figure out what Ron is doing, Christina,” said Jennifer. “Quite simple. When we have big, tough, strong BITCHES such as yourself, sometimes you need a little…incentive,” said Jennifer, her voice turning a little more sinister. Ronald stood up again, now holding a clear oxygen mask with an attached clear hose running down below the table. Christina started to struggle violently as Ronald brought the mask near her face. “FUCKERS…NO! NOO!!” screamed Christina, shaking her head side-to-side, trying to avoid the mask, unsuccessfully, as it was put over her mouth and nose. Breathing heavy, Christina had a look of both frustration and fear on her face. For the first time, she softened her voice. “PLEASE.”

“As I was saying before you interrupted me, sometimes our slaves need some incentive when we tickle torture them. Sort of game we play…the longer you can hold out before succumbing to our tickling, the more it turns us on!” said Jennifer, a wild smile on her face. “A big, strong woman such as yourself…I’d give you at least a half hour. How about you Ron?” asked Jennifer. “I think you’re being a little generous dear. Ten minutes, tops,” said Ronald. A tear started to roll down Christina’s cheek, as she shook her head side-to-side, trying to remove the mask. “Oh…right, the gas. Don’t worry my dear, it’s a special mix we have prepared and stored in large tanks below this room. Laughing gas, with a slight bit of oxygen mixed in. The oxygen prevents you from passing out, so we can relish every single second of your misery,” said Jennifer, her smile turning very sinister. Ronald bent down below and pushed a button, which started circulating the gas through the mask. Smelling the gas and feeling it rush against her mouth and nose, Christina tried to take small breaths, not wanting to give in to the gas. Sitting down next to his wife, back in front of Christina’s right sheer suntan pantyhose foot, Ronald looked at Jennifer. “Ready dear?” he asked. Jennifer looked at Christina. “I think the question is…are YOU ready!?!” she said.

Ronald and Jennifer started slowly, tracing their fingers up and down Christina’s sheer suntan pantyhose feet. Christina tried to wiggle her nylon feet away from the tickling fingers, but it was no use, as her legs were held tightly in their respective restraints in the gynecologist-looking chair she was bound in. Ronald starting scribbling his fingers in Christina’s right nylon sole, which caused her to struggle. “UNNGGHH!!” Christina let slip, trying to control her breathing and not give in to the tickling sensations. “NNOOHH!” she let slip, as she felt Jennifer doing the same thing as Ronald, scribbling her fingers in the middle of her left nylon sole. “NNGGHUUHA!!” yelped Christina, a slight smile forming across her face, which she quickly dissipated. Christina wasn’t going to give these two the satisfaction of seeing her laugh as long as she could. “C’mon, little girl…laugh for me!” Jennifer mocked. “I think the big detective is just a scared little girl. Scared because we’re going to tickle wickle her little nylon tootsies FOREVER!” said Jennifer, as her fingers continued to tickle Christina’s left nylon sole. The gas continued to flow, causing Christina to start forming a smile on her face, even though she desperately tried not to. “Oh look, I think she likes having her nylon feet tickled!” said Jennifer, her fingers continuing to scrabble up and down Christian’s left nylon sole. “Does the little baby like having her itty bitty nylon tootsies tickled?” asked Jennifer in a horribly mocking tone.

“NNHUGGHHAAHA!!!” Christina cried, letting the first, brief laugh escape, her face formed into a smile. “It’s just a matter of time Christina. The gas always gets them. No matter how much you try to resists, the gas just brings it out of you. And we’re not stopping. We’re going to tickle your nylon feet until you can’t stand it anymore…and then we’ll TICKLE YOU SOME MORE!” said Ronald. “NNGHHGGAAHAPLEAASE!!” screamed Christina, tears now rolling down both cheeks. “SSOMEEONEEEHEELLPPPMMEEEHAHA!!!” screamed Christina, letting loose yet another brief laugh, her face now deformed into a goofy smile. It had been nearly ten minutes of the gas flowing, and having both her nylon soles being raked their fingers, when Christina finally couldn’t hold it back anymore. “NNGGHHHAAHNNNOOOHHAHAHAHAHASSSTOOPAAAHA!!!” she screamed from under the oxygen mask, as it continued to pump in laughing gas. “GHGHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANNOOOHAHAHA!!!” Christina screamed, shaking her head violently side-to-side.

“That’s a good girl…laugh for me! Such a good little girl, with her little ticklish nylon feet. You can’t resist us…GIVE IN!” said Jennifer, loving every second of Christina’s torment, as her fingers continued to torture the quivering left sheer suntan pantyhose sole in front of her. “GGHAHAHAHAHAHANOOHAHAHAHAPPLEEASHAHA!!!” was all the Christina could scream, as the combination of gas and tickle torture did its work on her. A half hour into the tickling, sweat began to pour off Christina’s naked body, dripping onto the hardwood floors below. Ronald and Jennifer were relentless, using both their hands to torture Christina’s nylon feet. Christina had fallen into silent laughter, the gas and constant tickling of her nylon feet keeping her in a perpetual state of forced hysterics. Her face was flushed, as the laughter was forced from her mouth in a slow, methodical fashion. “HUUHHUUHAAHAAHAAUUHHAAHA!” laughed Christina in a deep, guttural manner, unable to control herself. “Oh look honey, she wet herself,” said Ronald, taking notice of the pool of urine forming on the floor directly underneath Christina. “Less than an hour and we’ve already forced her to piss herself. OUTSTANDING! I think it’s time for some water!” said Jennifer, as both of them stopped tickling Christina. “HEEHEEHEEHEE!” Christina continued to giggle because of the laughing gas being pumped into her oxygen mask.

Ronald got up and pushed the button below the table, stopping the gas flow. Removing the mask from Christina’s face, Ronald then walked over toward the media area along the far wall, picking up a camcorder on a tripod, returning with it. Christina was still lightly giggling, the effects of the laughing gas still evident, a forced smile on her face. Meanwhile, Jennifer had walked over to a refrigerator, opening it up. Christina’s eyes watched her, noticing the dozens and dozens of bottles of water inside. Jennifer grabbed several, before returning to Christina. By now Ronald was setting up the tripod-mounted camcorder, adjusting the focus and angle, making sure Christina was featured properly. “You might be wondering why the camcorder?” said Ronald, looking at Christina through the LCD screen. If you haven’t noticed, we enjoy capturing our special moments on film,” said Ronald, pointing over toward the hundreds of DVD’s lining the walls of the media area. Each DVD is a special movie I’ve created from each of our slaves. Memories my wife and I can enjoy later, whenever we want, long after you’re gone. And now,” continued Ronald. “Now we’re going to create YOUR special movie.”

“Hold her head still,” said Jennifer, as she approached Christina with a 20-ounce bottle of water. An exhausted and sweaty Christina tried to struggle, but Ronald grabbed her by the face and neck, forcing her mouth open, as Jennifer began pouring the water down Christina’s throat. “GGHAHAHGUUUNGHGHAG!!!” screamed Christina, gagging and choking on the water at first, but then taking it. “That’s a good girl” said Jennifer, pouring the water with one hand, using the other to rub Christina’s neck as you would a dog after giving it a pill. As the water was forced down Christina’s throat, tears began to well up in eyes once more, streaming down her face. Her eyes locked onto Jennifer’s, trying to find some humanity in the woman, but finding only contempt and evil. After pouring the entire bottle down Christina’s throat, Ronald and Jennifer backed off. Christina was coughing, tears rolling down her cheeks. “PLEASE…NO…NO…MOR…MORE,” said Christina, now sobbing. “But girl…that was just a warm up. The REAL fun is about to begin!” said Jennifer, an excited look on her face. “Ron, start the movie,” said Jennifer, as Ronald happily hit the ‘record’ button on the camcorder.

Jennifer grabbed Christina by the chin, moving her face close in to Christina’s. “Let’s explore that pussy of yours,” said Jennifer, as Christina’s eyes grew wide with worry. Ronald clicked a button on the side of the table, which instantly began separating Christina’s already-wide spread legs even further, to the point where she was almost at a full spread. “UNNGGHGHH!!!” cried Christina, the strain on her pussy now severe. “Great!” said Jennifer, as she walked over to the wall of toys. Before she could react, Ronald put the oxygen mask back on Christina’s face, pushing the button below the table, causing the gas to flow once more. Christina’s eyes locked on Jennifer, as she returned carrying several vibrating dildo’s of various sizes. “Here honey,” said Jennifer, handing Ronald a large black vibrating dildo. “HHEEHEHEHEHEEHEE!” giggled Christina, the gas beginning to affect her once more, as Ronald and Jennifer pulled up stools next to each other, both sitting in front of Christina’s strained pussy. “UNNGGHH!!!!” screamed Christina, as she felt one of the large vibrating dildos pushed hard into her pussy, causing her hips to gyrate as much as the restraints would allow. “HHEEHAHAHEHEHAHAAHAHAAUUNNGGHHUHGHAHAHA!!!” screamed Christina, being forced to laugh while being pleasured at the same time. The vibrating dildos were forced in and out, in and out, each thrust moving Christina one step closer to an orgasm. “NOOOHHUNNNGGH!!” cried Christina, as she felt herself about to cum. “UUHHGGAAAAHHHYYEEEAAHH!!!” she screamed as she came.

Christina went limp in her bonds, as she continued to enjoy the after-effects of the forced orgasm, while still giggling and laughing from the gas. “HEEHEEHEHEEHEEHAAAAHHH!” she laughed, a smile on her flushed face. “I think she LOVES it!” said Jennifer, taking note of the pleasured look on Christina’s face. “How about another!?!” asked Ronald. “Why stop there…I think this sexy bitch wants to CUM ALL NIGHT!” said Jennifer. With that, both Ronald and Jennifer began teasing Christina’s pussy once more with the electric dildos, as Christina continued to giggle and sob, tears now streaming down her face. As Ronald and Jennifer plunged the dildos in and out of her pussy, Christina tilted her head back, looking at the wall of terrified faces staring back at her, tears running down her cheeks. “Akira…Tomi…help…HELP…” Christina thought, as she felt another orgasm about to erupt.