Repost on Request: Kidnap Boy's stories

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:26 pm

OK... The following stories are, to my knowledge, all of the stories Kidnap Boy wrote.

Out of the old 'n dusty Archive:

Sunday, January 18th 2004 - 12:05:27 AM

The First Time Dena Tied Me Up

I’ve written a couple of stories about my friend Dena kidnapping me, tying me up, and torturing me when we were teenagers. Here is the story of the first time it happened. I was 14, she was 17. We were both in high school (freshman and junior).
To quickly recap – Dena was the girl I idolized, and we’d been best of friends since we were little. Our mothers (both of whom were divorced) were best friends and that’s how we met. Dena was blonde, beautiful, incredibly cool, very popular, and had worked her way up to a black belt in karate. She did competitions and was able to do things like break boards with her feet. She loved me like a brother and we had lots of fun together.

We “played” together a lot – wrestling, playfighting, little tickle fights. That kind of stuff. But until this first time she had never tied me up. I was no match of her, obviously. Tickling, though, was something Dena was fond of – probably because I’m about the most ticklish guy in the world. Prior to the first tie-up, when Dena would tickle me it would be for a few seconds, maybe a minute here or there. But that was it and I was certain I couldn’t take anymore than that.

When my mother worked late, I would often sleep at Dena’s house. On this particular occasion, it was a Friday and her Mom was heading out of town for a weekend at her sister’s (Dena’s aunt) when I arrived around 4. I saw her as I walked in with my bags and said hi.

“Hi doll” she said to me, giving me a hug. “Dena’s in the basement working out. You staying over?” (Dena had a pretty elaborate workout room in the front half of the basement, with mats and heavy bags and stuff like that.)

“Sure am, Mrs. J. One of these days you’ll have to charge me rent,” I said and we laughed.

“Actually, Dena mentioned something about givng you a karate lesson,” her mom said. “Don’t let her hurt you.” And with another laugh she was off.

I dropped my bag in the spare room upstairs where I slept, walked down through the den, and then went down the few stairs into the basement. Dena was there stretching on the floor. She wore light blue linen pants that she worked out in (like a combo between hospital scrubs and pajamas) and a grey V-neck workout T-shirt. She had on sneakers. There were mats on the floor, two stereo/radios on a bench, weights in the corner, two heavy bags hanging, and hooks on the wall with several pieces of rope (jump ropes, I imagined), workout belts, and towels. She spotted me and got up.

“Hey, Jess. I was just going to get started. How about you watch for a while and then I’ll give you a lesson. You’ve learned some good stuff so far,” Dena said.

“You’re Mom said don’t hurt me” I joked.

“Hee hee hee,” Dena said. “Little ol’ me? I don’t know where she got that idea. Hurt you? Never.”

“Dena, the last time you gave me a ‘lesson ‘ you wound up pinning me down and poking my rubs until I cried ‘Uncle!’ Remember? Your mom heard that – I was so embarrassed!”

“Hee hee,” Dena giggle some more. “I know, I’m just big bad Dena, right? And now I’ve lured you into my lair! Gee whiz, your paranoid!”

“Yea, I’m staring at a wall filled with ropes and a woman who’s a black belt. I’m TOTALLY safe!” I joked.

“Those are jump ropes, you sick minded freak. 4-footers, 6-footers, and 8-footers. They’re for exercise – not binding you!”

“I put nothing by you, lady.”

We laughed and joked and she finished her stretching.

“Tell you what,” Dena said. “We’ll send out for some dinner tonight and maybe play a game. OK? (I nodded) I don’t need to work too long. Let’s have a little lesson, first. Me and you.”

I said OK.

Dena came to the edge of the mat and kicked off her shoes. She had on grey athletic socks that matched her T-shirt. “Take your shoes off,” Dena said.

“Uh, not thanks. I prefer to keep them on” and I stepped onto the mat.

“Jess, we’re going to practice take downs, and I’d rather you be in socks than shoes. Take ‘em off,” Dena said again.

“Uh uh. My rule. My shoes stay on,” I said emphatically, standing in the center of the mats. I felt a little more secure with my sneakers on was all – though I don’t know why I made a big deal out of it.

“OK – my gym, my rules,” Dena said, this time emphatically and slowly. “Take off your shoes, or I will take them off for you!”

I tried to move quickly away but Dena hit the ground, swung her feet out in a sweeping motion, hooking my legs and bringing me down. She then scissored my feet between her legs and pulled my sneakers off. I tried to get up but she held me down, laughing, and quickly pinned me.

“Are you going to give me a hard time?” she asked. “Do I have to beat ya up?”

“Looks that way doesn’t it?” I said, trying to break free. She held me tight to the ground.

“OK, it’s lesson time. That’s one strike, by the way. You get to 3 and you’re in trouble.”

We practiced kicks for our lesson and I was getting OK with it. We spent about 15 minutes practicing and it went well. She was pleased and said she wanted to see 3 quick kicks on the heavy bag and then we were done.

“OK,” I said. “But guess what I want in return?”

“Oh geez, Jess. You want me to do a flying one?” Dena asked.

“Yep. It’s soo cool.” This was where with a running start she would stop just before the bag, jump in the air in 360 motion and kick the bag. It really was cool – she always had me hold the bag when she did this, so the bag wouldn’t give and she wouldn’t fall.

“Oh, alright. You give me three good ones on the bag and then I’ll do it, OK? Then I need 10 minutes to warm down and I’m done. OK?”

I agreed and gave her three good kicks on the heavy bag. Dena was impressed. Now she prepared to do her running kick, and I prepared a little joke. When she swung her feet to kick, I would move the bag out of the way to make her fall. Payback for stealing my shoes.

“Hold that bag, OK?” she said and I nodded. She ran at it, stopped, jumped, spun, and kicked…and missed. I move the bag out of the way and she fell straight to the floor. We both laughed and she got up slowly.

“Ah hah!” Dena said, laughing. “Verrrrry funny. Looks like I have a little joker in the house. Well, joke about this!” And she lunged at me, knocking me down and pinning me again. I struggled to get up to no avail.

“You know, maybe I SHOULD use those ropes for something else,” Dena said, staring down at me.

“Like what,” I said., trying to break free.

“Like tying you up! You have two strikes on you and a 3rd might just wind you up all tied up!” Dena laughed. “You better knock it off, or else!”

”Oooh, I’m scared!” I mocked.

“Nah, you’re not scared,” Dena said, “but you ARE still ticklish, right?”

Now I was a little spooked.

“N-n-n-nooo, Dena, please…”

“Oh, so now you want to be NICE?” Dena asked. I nodded. “Your last chance. DON’T push it. Now go sit quietly for 10 – only 10, that’s all. I need to warm down.”

Dena got up and unpinned me and went to do her bag routine. She went over to the first radio and put on classical music – soft stuff. It’ how she cooled down, with half-stretching and half-yoga. I looked at the other CD while she closed her eyes and got very relaxed on the floor. The other CD player had dance-type music that she worked out to.

I got an idea that, in hindsight, changed our relationship. How funny would it be if I blared the dance music right in the middle of her relaxation? Pretty funny, I thought. Yeah, I know I was pushing my luck, but I was 14 and 14-year-olds are generally stupid and obnoxious. And we loved pushing each other’s buttons.

Just as Dena was in the lotus position, I quietly flipped the switch for the other player. Dance music blared and she must have jumped sky-high. I fell to the ground laughing my ass off. I have to tell you, it was funny.

“Oh, that is IT! You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Dena said, hopping to her feet and going to the wall where the ropes hung. “Now, you are MINE! You’re DEAD!”

Dena grabed all three ropes off the wall and began to advance on me, grinning like the cat playing with a mouse.

Now at this point I had a problem, because the ropes hung on the wall near the staircase out of there, and the stereos were in the far corner. I hadn’t planned an escape route, and Dena basically had me trapped. Uh oh.

“Come ‘ere, sweetie. Time to tie you up!” Dena said, running at me. I had no time to react and just fell to the floor, basically surrendering. I was laughing hysterically and Dena rolled me on my stomach, grabbed my hands, and tied them behind my back.

“What are you, kinky?” I yelled. Verbal abuse was all I had left. “Some kind of kinky weirdo?”

“Oh, I’m VERY kinky,” Dena said, holding another rope, and sitting on my back facing my feet. She looked over her shoulder to see me. “I’m just a bondage nut and you’re my very first victim! Now hold still and stop squirming while I tie your feet!”

Dena tied my feet tightly at the ankles and then, with the same rope (must’ve been the 8-footer) lashed my knees together. She then rolled me over and sat on me at the waist, pinning me.

She began to giggle maniacally. “Omigod! I can’t believe I tied you up! This is so cool! Looks like you’re my prisoner now, huh?” Dena said, still giggling.

“DENA…” I shouted but then Dena clamped her had over my mouth tight, shutting me up.

“Shhhh,” Dena whispered. “No yelling. Now I’m going to take my hand off your mouth and you’re not going to yell again, OK?”

Handgagged and helpless, I nodded. Dena removed her hand from my mouth but stayed on top of me.

“Dena,” I said quietly, “please untie me. You win. I won’t do it again. Please, untie the ropes and I’ll be good.”

“No, you won’t do it again, and yes, you WILL be good, because now you’re ALL TIED UP! I think tonight’s plans just changed – I’m going to kidnap you instead. And you will be my little ‘kidnap boy.’

(Thus, a nickname was born).

“Oh, God, Dena…”

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” Dena said, getting to her feet. She stood with her feet at my head and said slowly and sharply. “Do not move! If you do the punishment will be severe.”

Dena left me tied up on the floor and walked into the back of the cellar, where I heard her doing something at the washer/dryer. I stayed bound and still – I thought it best. She came around the corner with a laundry basket full of socks and t-shirts.

“I almost forgot – I told my Mom I’d unload the dryer and fold these shirts and socks. OK,” she said, putting the basket down. “That’s for later. Back to business.”

Dena grabbed a folding chair from against the wall and brought it over to where I was and sat in it, her feet at my head. She crossed her legs so one foot dangled just over my face and folded her arms.

“Now,” Dena said, “what to do with our little hostage here. First I think a very serious apology is in order!”

“Sure Dena, but could you move your feet first?” I asked, stupidly. “Your socks…”

“What about my socks, Jess? Are they smelly? Are you insulting me by saying I have foot odor?” Dena asked, he foot staying there.

“Well, no…it’s just that…you’ve been working out…”

“Oh, that is strike 4! You’re dead! And I just got a great idea. Hey kidnap boy, say hello to my little friend!” Dena said, and then she put her socked-foot over my mouth. I tried to scream but her foot was firm. No, the smell wasn’t great (not terrible, but this was also more than a bit humiliating.

“Good! Enjoy my foot for a gag, you little creep! Consider it your first lesson,” Dena taunted while I tried to writhe out of the way. But her other foot stayed on my chest and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now, let’s see. Now that I finally have you quiet, I can think of your punishment. If 3 strikes means I tie you up, 4 strikes has to be MUCH WORSE!”

I was screaming now into Dena’s foot as she gagged me with it, but she didn’t care. She looked down at me, giggling for about 20 seconds, and then said, “I’m now ready to pass sentence. Does the defendant wish to say anything prior to being sentenced?”

Again I tried to scream but Dena’s foot kept me quiet. I struggled to free my hands but they were tightly tied behind my back.

“Hmm, seems the cat’s got his tongue. OK, we shall now pronounce sentence on our little kidnap boy,” Dena said, leaning down but keeping her foot firm on my mouth. “I sentence you to the maximum sentence allowed by law for receiving 4 strikes from your wonderful friend Dena. Your sentence is…death…BY TORTURE! You shall be tortured to death!”

I continued to scream into her foot, giddy and scared.

“I need to take my foot off your mouth for a minute to get everything ready for the torture,” Dena said. “DO NOT MOVE, AND DO NOT SAY A WORD! Trust me, the torture will only get worse – and LONGER – you do. And if you move or say a peep, you get another foot gag – only this time without the sock. BARE feet! Think about that for a minute. Remnember, not a word.”

Dena’s foot came off my mouth and I gasped for air, remaining still, while she went across the room, grabbed the heavy bar from her weight set (it weighed 45 pounds) and rolled ir over to where I was, at my feet. She then loaded up plenty of weight – I think about 100 lbs. per side, and locked it in. She then grabbed my bound feet, grabbed the final piece of rope, and tied them down to the barbells. Basically, I was tied down at the feet to 250 lbs. or so, and the weights weren’t going anywhere (they weren’t round – more hexagonal) I couldn’t move my feet.

“Almost ready, sweetie,” Dena said, pulling a long red sock out of the laundry basket. “Now, you can talk. Beg if you want. But nothing will save you from being tortured to death!”


”Dena, don’t do this. Wh-what …what are you doing,” I said as Dena advanced on me with the red sock and an evil grin. For a moment I thought I’d be gagged again, but she crouched down and instead blindfolded me with the sock. As always, the blindfold was tight – not uncomfortable, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

As I stammered for mercy, Dena got up and I could feel her moving toward my feet. “Oooh, someone’s scared, isn’t he?” Dena said. “Someone KNOWS he’s about to be tortured but good. Oh well.”

That’s when I felt her taking my socks off, leaving my feet bare.

“Hello, little tootsies. Would you like to know how I’m going to torture you? As if you couldn’t guess,” Dena giggled. “Your torture is I’m going to tickle you to death!”

“DENA, NO! I CAN’T TAKE THAT! YOU KNOW HOW TICKLISH I AM. PLEASE DON’T!!!”

“Hee hee hee. Yes, of COURSE I know how ticklish you are. That’s why I’m going to tickle you, silly. We’ll just see how much you can take…and maybe you’ll learn a lesson!”

With that, Dena began to tickle the bottoms of my feet and in between my toes and I saw stars. I shrieked with laughter as she scratched the souls with her fingers and tickled my feet everywhere. This was brutal.

“Tickle tickle, little footsies,” Dena said in a baby voice. “Ooh, such a ticklish wittle boy!”

“AHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!!” was all I could get out.

“Yes, that’s why I didn’t gag you. Scream all you want. Your cries for help will never be heard,” Dena said villain-like, her fingers finishing up on my feet. “Let’s tickle you somewhere else.”

That’s when I felt her savagely tickling my ribs and stomach. I tried to defend myself while screaming but Dena had tied my hands too well. I was now crying as well as laughing.

“This is what you get! You get tickled by the master tickler for being bad!” Dena said, tickling my ribs and armpits with no letup. “You just had to go and be a little wiseass, huh? Well, let’s see how you like being tickle-tortured!”


Denas tickle-torture continued without mercy for what seemed like forever. I begged and pleaded to no avail. I was helpless to Dena’s sadistic tickling fingers.

By the time she got to my neck and starting running her fingers over it in light tickling strokes, I was moaning. I was laughed and screamed out.
Finally, Dena took off my blindfold and stopped tickling me. I panted and felt tears while I laughed and gasped. Dena stood over me with her foot on my chest.

“OK, you’ve had enough, honey. Don’t want to REALLY tickle you to death. Just a figure of speech. OK?” Dena said.

“Th-th-th-th thank you,” I stammered, still near-hysterical. “Please untie me, Dena! I’ve learned my lesson!”

“Um…noooo. No way will I untie you yet. I’ll release you from the torture chamber, but I’m going to bring you upstairs and keep you tied up for awhile. That’s the best deal you’re going to get, buddy. I won’t tickle you anymore, but I’m not untying you,” Dena said, and then she untied my feet from the barbell and helped me stand up. “Let’s get upstairs!”

It took a while but Dena hopped me up to the den and sat me on the futon, still tied up. I was finally composed.

“Dena, that was the cruelest – my God, I thought I was going to die!” I said.

“I know,” Dena replied. “I know how ticklish you are, and I know how good a tickler I am. You never had a chance!”

We laughed and talked for a little while and Dena put the TV on. About an hour had lapsed since she first tied me up.

“C’mon Dena, isn’t it time to untie me now? Please…”

“Nah, not yet. I’ve just got to try my favorite torture one more time. Come’ere!” And she grabbed and forced me face-up on the couch next to her.

“NO! Please don’t tickle me anymore!” I yelled.

“I’m not gonna tickle ya!” Dena said. “I’m gonna do this!” And with that Dena clamped her socked foot over my mouth again, gagging me while she laughed like crazy.

“Tickling you is fun, Jess. But thw smelly foot gag – that’s my favorite,” Dena said. “My feet are soooo comfy on your mouth.”

Finalle Dena let me up and loosened the ropes enough so I could untie myself. While I did that, she observed how much fun she had.

“I think I’m going to have to tie you up on a regular basis!” Dena said, putting her feet to my face one last time as I freed myself finally of the ropes.

“Mmmph---oh no,” I said, finally getting her foot off my mouth and dashing across the room to get away from my captor. “If there is a next time, I should get to tie YOU up, Dena. You’re EVIL!”

“Yes I am,” she taunted, putting her feet up on the couch and tossing her head back victoriously. “You want to tie me up, you have to catch me first! Don’t worry, I’ll get you again…I just won’t tell you when. But soon, you’ll be my kidnap boy again!”

And that was the first time. I know it was long, but hopefully it was worth it.

Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:27 pm

Pt. 1: Sunday, February 15th 2004 - 12:37:29 AM
Pt. 2: Saturday, March 20th 2004 - 12:12:06 AM

Kidnapped and Tortured By Dena and Marisa (Part 1 + 2)

My next Dena story involves her friend Marisa. This happened about 2 weeks after the time I finally tied Dena up, only to have her escape, capture me, tie me down, torture me with itching powder, foot-gag me, and finally tickle me into craziness. She had gone easy on me from that point. Until this day.

I arrived at Dena’s house at 3 p.m. on a Saturday – her Mom was going out of town and mine was working, so naturally I was to sleep over. I don’t know if I need to recap, but here goes – Dena was blonde , beautiful, 17, a black belt, and my best friend. I was 14 and her frequent tie and tickle victim, mainly because she enjoyed it. I washer “kidnap boy.”

I got to Dena’s house and saw her putting her shoes on. Here’s what she was wearing: green cargo pants, green army-like socks, and a black, short-sleeve three button shirt. He shoes were those white Moccasins that were popular a few years back – dunno what they’re called. I thought she looked sexy as hell, as always.

“Hey squirt,” Dena said to me as I walked in, slipping into her shoes. “guess where we’re going?”

“Hi,” I said, sitting down in the living room where she was. I had a windbreaker, red-t-shirt, jeans, socks, and sneakers on. “What do you mean – I thought we were staying here?”

“We are Jess, but first we need to run an errand,” Dena said.

“Where? The store?” I asked.

“Sort of, Jess. Or should I say,” she stood up and started moving toward me, “KIDNAP BOY!”

And with that Dena lunged at me, catching me easily, and pulling me to the floor, where she pinned me and laughed. I swear I wasn’t in the door a minute!

“Oh no!” I yelled. “Dena, what are you…”

“Silence, kidnap boy,” Dena yelled, and gagged me with her hand. “Yes, I’ve let you go these past couple weeks. I bet you don’t even fear me, evil Dena anymore, do you?”

I mmphed into her hand but was helpless, pinned to the ground.

“Do you!” Dena yelled again, this time tickling me with her free hand. “Are you going to answer your best friend, or do I have to tickle it out of you???”

I yelled into her hand and giggled like a crazed loon from the rib and stomach tickling, dreading my fate.

“Just as ticklish as ever, aren’t we, you bad little boy?” Dena taunted while wiggling her fingers around my ribs while I thrashed, still hand-gagged. “Well, tonight is a good night for a kidnapping! I’ll tie you up good! Whether I torture you is up to you!”

More mmphing from me into my hand while Dena tickled me for a few more second, then stopped.

“Unfortunately, I’m not happy with the ropes I use to kidnap you anymore. Mostly their my jump ropes, and it’s always possible I could tie you up too well and have to cut you loose. Then I’d have to cut you loose, and I’d need new jump ropes. You see?” Dena said, finally ungagging me.

I gasped and said, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Dena said, still on top of me, “I need special ropes, just for you, Jess. Just to tie you up with. That’s why we’re going shopping.”

“Wh-what?” I asked, incredulous.

“We’re going to go shopping, honey, at the hardware store for some new ropes. You can even help me pick them out!” Dena said, still on top of me.

“What are you, weird?” I asked, struggling while she pinned me. “You want me to help pick out the ropes you’re going to use to tie me up? Are you crazy?”

Dena abruptly hand-gagged me again. “Consider it a field trip,” she said. “And watch your mouth. I told you that torture is NOT a guarantee tonight, maybe just tying you up. Of course, if you want to fight me, I suppose right now I can tie you up with your own shoelaces and tickle you until you cry. You choice!”

Three minutes later we were in the car, heading for the hardware store.


The hardware store was mostly empty and was pretty big for a locally owned place. It was owned be a pretty rich guy who also owned a carpet warehouse in town, and his daughter worked at both. I mention this because his daughter was named Marisa and was 17 and one of Dena’s best friends.

Marisa was behind the counter in “household items,” a section that was entirely empty, when Dena and I approached.

“Dee – HI!” Marisa yelled, coming from behind the counter to hug her. She too, was hot. She had reddish-brown hair that was curly and past her shoulders, almost always tied in a pony tail. She wore a red-company vest over her button down short-sleeved sweater (it was warmish) and grey chinos and clogs. Yes, she was hot.

“And hi, Jeff. You pal-ing around with Dee this weekend?” Marisa asked, giving me an affectionate pat. She liked me – one thing great about Dena was she made sure all her friends liked me.

Before I could answer Dena spoke up.

“Mariss, we need to see your finest rope. It should be nice and soft, and plenty of it!” Dena said as I blushed the color of Marisa’s vest. What was she doing?

“Well, we’ve got all kinds of rope. I guess cotton is the softest. What do you need it for?” Marisa asked.

Oh God, I thought, she’s not going to…

Then it happened.

“To tie him up,” Dena said, pulling me over to her by the arm.. “I’m gonna tie him up tonight and I need JUST the right kind of rope to do it.”

Now Marisa blushed, then bit her lip, then held her hand over her mouth in disbelief. “Omigod, are you serious?” she asked with a laugh.

“Of course I’m serious,” Dena said.

Marisa could tell she was serious and starting cracking up.

“You’re really going to tie Jeff up?” she asked. “Wow! Do you know HOW to tie someone up?”

Dena, God bless her, didn’t let on that this had ever happened before. “We, uh, had a bet, and Jess here lost. So now I get to tie him up. And I need good rope.”

Marisa and she laughed and then Marisa said, “Well, then, miss, you and your, uh, HOSTAGE come this way,” and Marisa then took me by the hand to an aisle with all the rope.

She and Dena discussed the rope briefly, various kinds.

“What are you looking for?” Marisa asked. “You want to tie his hands and feet, that’s all? Or hoist him up or something?”

“Mostly hands and feet,” Dena said, headlocking me. “Whatever holds this little tiger here.”

“Well, then, this stuff here,” Marisa said, handing her a packet of 30 feet of white cotton rope “should hold you little prisoner here forever. Get this kind.”

“Care to try it on, Jess,” Dena asked, devastatingly while I blushed and giggled. “Nah, guess not. I’ll take two bundles.”

With that, we all walked over to her check out counter and Marisa rang up Dena’s rope.

“You know, Dee, two things,” Marisa said, handing her the rope in a bag.

“Hmm?” Dena said.

“Well, I hear if you run the rope through the washer and dryer, it REALLY softens it up. You know, so it doesn’t hurt him when he’s tied up,” Marisa said.

“Really,” Dena said. “Thanks, I’ll try that. What else?”

“Well,” Marisa said with a killer smile and blush, reaching across the counter and taking my hand, “I haven’t tied anyone up since I was about 10. I get off at 6 – would you mind…”

“C’mon bye,” Dena said while I tried to object. But she put her hand over my mouth to shut me up. “You and I will BOTH tie him up.”

“Ooooh,” Marisa giggled, winking at me. “See you at 6:15, Jeffrey!”

Oh God!

So there we were, back at Dena’s house around 4 :30 – we stopped for ice cream first. With me telling her all along I couldn’t believe she told Marisa what we do. (NOTE: Yes, privately I was LOVING IT.)

I went down to turn on the TV while Dena walked straight to the cellar with the rope and put it in the wash. I heard the machine go on.

Dena came in the room, sat next to me on the futon, kicked her shoes off, and sat Indian style in her green socks. “The ropes should be ready in an hour. I haven’t decided whether to tie you up first or wait for Marisa to get here. Any thoughts?”

“Dena, I have no thoughts at all. Does it even matter what I think?” I asked.

Dena gave me that evil grin. “No, it doesn’t,” she said, inching over to me and putting her arm around me. “I guess I have to decide whatever is more HUMILIATING for you, huh? Being tied up by one girl or two. Tough choice.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to change your mind? You know, we haven’t talked about that. Can I buy you off? Do chores? Uh…be your slave for the day? Anything I can do to keep you from tying me up?” I asked, weakly.

“Honey, if I wanted a slave, I’d tie you up and MAKE you my slave. If I wanted your money, I’d tie you up and TAKE your money. No, no, no, no – you are worth SO much more to me than that,” Dena snickered, still holding onto me.

“What…what do you…”

“You….are my… Kidnap Boy” she said proudly, kissing me on the cheek and making me blush. “It’s worth so much more than money. Looksie – you just had the misfortune of being born three years after me. Tough break. But these days won’t last forever, so for now, I’m older, I’m tougher, and I – I – am the one who does the kidnapping!”

I laughed and she did too.

“Let’s watch MTV,” Dena said, sitting back. “Relax. You’ve got an hour before I decide.”

How quickly an hour goes by.

An hour later Dena came from the dryer holding a huge bundle of warm, extra soft white rope. She went to a desk in the corner, got out some sciossors, and cut about 5 pieces, all 5 or 6 feet long. Marisa was due in about 25 minutes, and I could tell by the look on Dena’s face that she didn’t want to wait.

Dena tucked 4 of the 5 ropes into her pants pocker, grinned evil again, and said, “You’ve got 5 minutes to hide. GO!”

I took off throughout the house while Dena sat down lauighing. I was looking for the perfect place to hide. Finally, I got it! I ran past her with about a minute to spare, into the garage, and got into her car and locked the doors. Safe!

Dena padded out to the garage in her socked feet. She stared at me in the backseat of the car and produced the rope. “Give up now and there won’t ne any torture!” Dena yelled. “If you don’t – well, I have to recommend a harsher punishment.”

“No way!” I yelled back. I’m not coming out of here!”

Dena shook her head and walked inside the house, where she stayed for a while. I checked my watch – it was now 6:05 and Marisa’s arrival was imminent. What was Dena doing in there? But I wasn’t getting out to find out.

It was around that time that I realized I didn’t have the car keys. And it was around THAT time that Dena emerged from the house with car keys in one hand, ropes in the other. I was dead.

I fought against the door, but Dena unlocked it, got ahold of me, and dragged me out. She then forced me into the house and tackled me, pinning me stomach down.

“Such a bad, bad boy” Dena yelled while trying my hands behind my back. “You can’t ever escape from me. Don’t you know that by now, kidnap boy? Although I have to admit, giving you a head start was fun. There, all tied up. Let’s get your feet.”

And with that, she tied my feet at the ankles with very little problem. Then she tied my knees and dragged me over to the futon. As I got there, the doorbell rang! It was Marisa!

“Come on down, Marisa!” Dena yelled, standing over my bound body, and Marisa came trotting down the stairs. Dena quickly whispered, “Our secret is safe! This is our first time, as far as she knows, if you want. OK?”

I nodded as Marisa arrived in front of me, wearing the same outfit (short-sleeved button-down sweater, grey chinos, clogs) minus the red store vest.

“OH” Marisa whooped, holding her hands over her mouth again. “I can’t believe it! You DID tie me up! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Oh, it was easy, hon. I’m a black belt, remember?” Dena said, dragging me off the futon and to the floor. “Take off your shoes and stay awhile. We need to figure out what to do with our hostage!”

“Mmmmmm,” Marisa purred, taking off her shoes to reveal her white socks and walking over to where I was, now bound at both girls’ feet. “What SHOULD we do to him, Dee? Our own hostage - This is sooooo exciting.”

“W-w-w-well girls, if you don’t mind me saying, I think the two of you should wrestle!” I stammered, stupidly, but amused by myself. Idiot.

“Hmm. He’s talkative, isn’t he?” Dena said. “We should shut him up.”

“You mean we should gag him? Wow – you play serious,” Marisa said. “What do you want to gag him with? We have some rags or tape or something?”

“I have something in mind,” Dena said winking, while I groaned and writhed at her feet. “Sit on him, wouldja Mariss, to hold him down? I’ll be right back.”

Dena left the room and Marissa sat on my waist, pinning me, and giggling. “This is so much fun – its like you’re our prisoner. You ever been tied up before, Jeff?”

I was determined to keep our secret. “N-no, never,” I said. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Marisa laughed, “Of course not. We’re just playing.”

At that moment, Dena arrived with a folding chair from downstairs and placed it near my head, sitting down in it. Marisa continued to pin me, her knees at my sides and her feet behind her.

“I don’t like my hostages talking back to me, Marisa. Do you?” Dena asked.

Marisa played along like a pro. “Hmm,” she frowned, “no I do NOT!” Did you bring something to gag him with?”

“Sure did,” Dena sneered, raising her feet up. “Right here. My feet. This should shut you up, boy!” And Dena forced her right foot over my mouth while Marisa gasped.

“God, Dena! Isn’t that gross? I mean, your feet?” Marisa exclaimed while I yelled into Dena’s latest foot-gag.

“Nah, my feet don’t smell to much, do they, kidnap boy?” she asked, calling me “the name.”

I writhed and moaned and yelled, “Yes, your feet smell, Dena!” into her foot, uselessly.

Marisa was impressed. “What a great torture! A sock in his mouth. You’re good, Dena!”

“I know a better torture, sweetie. Tickle him! He’s the most ticklish little boy you ever saw!” and I screamed like nuts into her foot.

“Whooo! You’re ticklish??? Oooo boy – let’s tickle you then” Marisa shouted with a taunting smile and started to ravage my ribs, stomach, and chest. Her wiggling fingers tickled me everywhere, almost as effectively as Dena.“WHEW! He IS ticklish, Dena! Tickle tickle, Jeff-rey! Wassa matter? You ticklish? Are you? Huh? Huh?”

Tears were rolling down my face as Marisa tickled me half to death and Dena kept gagging me with her foot.

“Tickle his feet, doll. He’ll jump out of his skin!” Dena yelled as my screams stayed muffled. “Ooh, you don’t want Marisa to tickle your little feet? To tickle your little footsies? Ooooh, too bad. Too bad your hands are tied behind your back, kidnap boy.”

“You feet, huh?” Marisa said with a demonic sparkle in her eye, “OK!” And she moved down to my ankles, pinning them. “Let’s get your shoes and socks off.”

Marisa took off both my shoes and both socks and then started to lightly finger my feet up and down, and I screamed some more into Dena’s foot. I tried to loosen the ropes that tied me but couldn’t. Torture!

“Woo-hoo! You ARE really ticklish!” Marisa yelled, tickling my feet up and down. “Dema, you are so sadistic. I anyone tickled me like this, I’d die! Tickle tickle, Jeffie. Are your feet ticklish? Are they? Are they? Wooooo! Tickle tickle.”

“My turn,” Dena yelled. “Let’s switch places. Out your foot over his mouth.”

Dena got up an then pinned me while Marissa moved to the chair and I screamed, “NO! NO! NO MORE! DON’T TICKLE ME ANYMORE! PLEASE! NO MORE! NO MORE! PLEASE! I CAN’T…I CAN’T…”

“Time to shut you up,” Marissa said sharply and lowered her white socked foot onto my face. It didn’t smell as bad as Dena’s socks, but not that great either. “I started tickling you, and now Dena’s going to finish the job. Tickle him to death, Dena!”

And that’s what she practically did. Dena tickled me everywhere – Marisa was a good tickler, but Dena was the best. I laughed and cried while she tortured my stomach, ribs, and feet, giggling all the while and taunting me. It was about 40 minutes worth (since the tickling started) when Dena finally stopped.

“Break time,” she announce. “You can take your feet off his mouth, Marisa. He’s ready to explode. Marisa giggled harded and took her feet off my mouth. Dena untied my feet while Marisa untied my hands and I kept panting.

“Are we letting him go?” Marisa asked.

“No way,” Dena said. She took the uncut rope out and tied it around my ankle, then to the futon leg. It was 30 feet long – long enough for me to go to the bathroom and walk around the room, but now I was basically on an ankle leash. “Just a temporary reprieve. Go to the bathroom and then come back. Don’t try anything funny or…or Marisa will gag you with her bare feet!”

“Guys, please…” I begged.

Marisa took her sock off and wiggled her bare toes at me. “Are you disobeying us?” she asked. It was amazing how fast she picked up on our game she was loving it and was just as sadistic as Dena, it seemed!

“No! No! I have to pee! Leave me alone! Do I get a break?” I asked.

“For a while,” Dena said with a grin, wiggling her tickle-crazy fingers. “Until we think of what to do to you next! Now get!

Dena and Marisa untied my hands and feet to let me go to the bathroom and have a reprieve, but they by no means were letting me go. Dena had tied a long piece of rope around my bare ankle and tied it to the leg of the sofa, basically putting me on a leash. I walked to the nearby bathroom, did my thing, and came out. Dena and Marisa were sitting on the couch, discussing my fate. (Remember – Dena was a black belt and could take me anytime she wanted. As a ‘wardrobe reminder,’ both girls had their shoes off. Marisa had a light-colored short-sleeved button down sweater, grey pants, and white socks. Dena had a black short-sleeved 3-button collared shirt, green cargo pants, and green socks.)

“Hey, kidnap is back,” Marisa squealed. “IS it time to tie him up again?”

“It sure is,” Dena said. “On the floor, on your stomach, NOW!”

I obeyed. Dena came and sat on my back. “Hand me the rope, Marisa,” she said.

Marisa obliged and Dena tied my hands behind my back as I lay face down. Marisa walked in front of me and stood at my head, her feet right at my nose. I tried to move away from them but Dena held my head there.

“I love this ‘smelly feet’ torture, Dee,” Marisa giggled, wiggling her toes under my nose. “Here – do you enjoy my socks, darling? Oooh – this is such torture. To bad we tied you up again – you belong to us!”

I was forced to endure Marisa’s socks for a few more seconds when Dena let go of y head, moved to my feet, and tied them at the ankles and knees. She then rolled me over, pinned me at the waist, smiled, and wiggled her fingers in tickling motions.

“Hee hee hee hee,” she giggled, wiggling her fingers about my bound body. “You are helpless to the tickle torture!”

“Dena…n…no. No! No more! Please! Not now! I can’t…” and Marisa crouched down at my head and clamped her hand over my mouth.

“No talking, Kidnap Boy!” Marisa said, also giggling. Dena’s fingers kept wiggling and I screamed into Marisa’s hand. “Oh, stop screaming, poor baby. Dena, our poooor baaaby doesn’t want us to tickle him anymore! Awwww! Well, at least I’m not gagging you with my feet…yet!”

Dena kept wiggling those fingers and laughing. “You know, the threat of tickle torture is sometimes worse than the actual torture. You just never…know…when…” she said slowly, jabbing her fingers down toward me but never touching me, “…never…know…when…I…will…just…tickle…you…to…death!!!!!”

I continued to scream into Marisa’s handgag, Dena’s fingers kept wiggling, I writhed to untie my hands to no avail, they both laughed, and finally Dena stopped and said, “OK, Mariss. You can take you hand off.”

Marisa did and got up. Dena got off me and the two of them lifted me up and placed me on the couch.

“We’ve got a new game for you, Jess,” Dena said, her arms folded and grinning at me.

“What do you…”

“Don’t interrupt!” Marisa snapped, raising a socked foot close to my face, “or you get the feet!”

“It’s Marisa’s idea, and I love it. And we both voted for it, which means we do it!” Dena said. “She has the keys to her Dad’s carpet warehouse. We’re going to take our bound captive for a ride there.”

I went to speak and Marisa raised her foot again. “Ah ah ah – there will not be a third warning,” Marisa said. “Once more and you get these dirty socks!”

Dena continued. “We decided that if torturing you is fun, then hunting you down, capturing you, and THEN torturing you would be awesome! So we’re going to take you to the store, untie your feet, keep you hands tied behind your back, and give you five minutes to escape from us in the store. After five minutes, we start hunting you, and if you can go 30 minutes without being captured, then we’ll untie you and leave you alone. I don’t want to hear a word from you – Marisa just loves foot-gagging you and is looking for an excuse. We’ree driving you there now. Get up!”

I said nothing and barely struggled as they forced me to my feet. This carpet warehouse was a massive room with rows and piles of carpets in it. Kids who went there loved to climb on them like mountains – there were plenty of places to hide. But how would I escape these two while tied up? Oh boy.

Dena and Marisa put their shoes on and hopped me to the car in the garage, where they forced me into the backseat and buckled me in with the lap buckle. I was still barefoot.

“I’ll drive,” Dena said, opening the garage door and getting behind the wheel.

“Goodie,” Marisa exclaimed, suddenly getting into the backseat and then sitting about ½ inch from me. “So I get to ride in the back with our prisoner and tickle him the whole way there. Can I, Dena?”

“Sure,” Dena said as the car backed out, “give him a little preview.”

Marisa kept giggling as she tickled me with her fingers all over my stomach and ribs and armpits. My screams were incredible, and I thrashed as my seatbelt held me in, but Dena just turned on the radio and sang along to a song while Marisa playfully tickle-tortured my neck and face, too. She then out her mouth to my ear and whispered so closely that that too tickled like crazy.

“I love tickling people,” she whispered. “And you are so ticklish I just can’t resist. Tickle tickle, little boy!”

It was a 10 minute ride to the warehouse and I was pleading in a raspy, tearful voice. It was Marisa’s giggly “cuteness” that made this all the more unbearable.

Finally, the car stopped and Marisa stopped tickling me. She hopped out of the car and ran to the door in her clogs to unlock it while Dena unbuckled me and pulled me out of the car. I panted and giggled uncontrollably.

“Good God – what did she DO to you?” Dena asked. “Whew – that girl is one master tickler.” Then her voice got quiet for a minute.

“You OK, Jess? Seriously?”

I couldn’t lie – part of me loved this. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

Dena kissed her fingers and put them to my lips and said, very softly, “Never. We’re just going to play with you tonight. But we’d never hurt you.”

Then she hopped me to the open front door and inside the warehouse. Marisa drew all the blinds and turned the lights on dim. There were rows and piles of carpets laid out in this massive warehouse. Dena said me down on a small carpet pile and untied my feet, and then looked at me and shook her head.

“No, we need more. We need to gag him. Mariss, is there tape in the office?” Dena asked.

“Sure. Duct tape. I’ll go get it,” Marissa said, kicking her shoes off again and running into the office. Dena took off her shoes, one at a time, and placed them on the ground. Then she took the ropes that had tied my feet and tied them around my arms to my sides, pretty tight.

“Dena, why are you going to gag me? Please don’t.” I begged.

“Have to. Every little advantage counts!” Dena said, finishing tying me up as Marissa ran out with the silver tape.

“Gag our hostage,” Dena ordered.

Marissa smiled that wicked smile and tore off a large piece of tape. She kept smiling as she advanced on me and gagged me. She added one more and then stepped back to look at me.

“Perfect!” Marisa said. “I think men should ALWAYS be gagged, personally.”

“Alright, here we go.,” Dena said.” Marissa and I are going into the office for five minutes. That is you chance to escape. This is basically a big hide and seek game. If we don’t catch you in a half-hour, you win and we untie you. If we DO capture you, you will be sentenced to death by torture!”

This made me think of the first time Dena ever tied and tortured me and, for some reason, I felt safe. Once again, I was 14 and I’m sure I had a little kinkiness in me. I wanted to get free, but I can’t say I was having a bad time.

Dena and Marissa padded into the office and shut the door. “Go!” they both yelled and I ran. I took off with my hands tied and with a gag on my mouth and tried to find a place to hide. I managed to climb up a large pile of carpet toward the back and to shinny myself between two carpet roles. There was a big clock on the wall that I could see. I waited for them to come out.

“Ready or not, here we come,” Marisa yelled out. “Dena you check that side and I’ll check this side. Our hostage couldn’t have gotten far!”

I panted into my gag as I hid and the minutes ticked away. 5, 6, 7. Marisa and Dena yelled out various taunts.

Marisa – “When we catch him, let’s spank him!”

Dena – “We’ll put that duct tape on his skin and rip it off!”

Marisa – “I think I’ll put my bare toes in his mouth!”

Dena – “Oh, little boy, I am going to tickle your feet until they fall off!”

About 15 minutes had passed when everything got quiet. I got nervous and decided I needed to move. I squirmed out of my hiding place, got to my feet, turned…and there was Marisa! I screamed into my gag and ran down the pile of carpet, only to fall and land on one of the lower piles. Marisa ran in and pounced on me, pinning on this same pile of carpets.

“Dena, I got him! I got him! Back right side! Come on!” she yelled. Then she looked at me and my defeated, pleading eyes. “Oh, we are just going to TORTURE YOU TO DEATH!!!”

Dena arrived with more rope in her hands and smiled and resumed playing the part of the evil kidnapper.

“Well well well. Looks like our hostage was trying to escape! The punishment for escaping is, as you know, death by torture! Marisa, here, tied his feet again and prepare the victim to be punished mercilessly,” Dena said.

Marissa tied my feet and said, “Where should we do it?”

“Right her,” Dena said, kneading the carpet with her socked feet. “Nice and comfy. Take his gag off and let him scream for mercy!”

Marisa crouched down and ripped my gag off.

“NO! PLEASE!!! PLEASE!!! ANYTHING!!! ANYTHING!!! DON’T TORTURE ME!!!!”

“Oooh, I love it when they bed,” Marissa said, turning to Dena. “Shall we tickle him to death?”

“Yup,” Dena said, and the two pounced on me and tickled me far worse than anything I’d gotten yet. It went on forever – at least a half-hour, and I was crying and laughing so hard I thought I would explode.

“I told you, I LOVE tickling people, especially kidnap victims like you,” Marisa said, rising to her feet. “How about my feet?” she asked and started tickling my ribs with her socked feet while Dena tickled my feet with short, slow finger-strokes. Finally Dena stopped and ran off.

“Keep tickling him, Mariss. I’ve got one more torture to top him off,” she yelled, and Marisa stopped with the feet and crouched down and savagely tickled me all over again. Dena came back with her shoes and said, “OK, I think he’s had enough. Footgag him – we KNOW he loves that!”

I was breathless and could barely speak as Marisa sat back and placed her foot over my mouth.

“One final torture,” Dena said, taking one of her shoes and crouching over me. “Foot odor!”

I mmmmphed into Marisa’s foot as Dena placed one of her shoes over my nose, then the other. They smelled pretty bad and I gasped for mercy.
“That is so gross and cruel, Dena!” Marisa laughed. “Stinky feet! Oh, we are so cruel, Jessie, aren’t we? Don’t you love being our hostage?”

This is getting kind of long so I’ll wrap up. Dena kept up the foot odor torture for another minute or so, then untied my feet as Marisa kept footgagging me. Finally, Marisa stopped and they led me sobbing to the car and drove me back to Dena’s place. Marisa had a question as she untied my hands there and Dena massaged my feet.

“Kidnapped by two girls, tied up, gagged with our hands and feet, tickled to death, made to smell awful foot odor, chased and captured, the tickled again so hard you cried, and humiliated in every way…well, did you like it?” she asked with a laugh.

I took a minute as Marisa began to massage my shoulders and Dena kept doing my feet. Two hot girls. I was in heaven. “Yeah. I love it,” I said, seriously.

And we all laughed.

That’s all.

Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:28 pm

Sunday, October 12th 2003 - 12:37:07 AM

Story without a title

Dena sat over me on the futon as I lay on the floor, hands and feet bound. She had tied me up again with rope and I was once again her hostage. I knew what was coming and dreaded it.
Dena was 17 and I was 14 – she was my mother’s best friend’s daughter and my friend since we were babies. We were really close and I looked up to her because she could do anything. She was amazing. I went to her house to study most days because she liked the company and my Mom (she was single and worked late) wanted me to be kept an eye on. Our moms were out of town this day and I’d be staying over. Dena – blonde and muscular and pretty- had decided it was time to kidnap and torture me again – this happened about twice a month, sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for only 15 minutes.

Dena had grown fond of tying me up, and even though I resisted almost all the time, she had a trump card over me – her black belt in tung su do. She could break a board with her feet, and was a master. 2nd degree, I think. She never used it on me to hurt me – only overpower me. She called me he “kidnap boy.” She would approach me the same way each time; I’d be watching TV and she’d walk in with ropes in her hands and say, “Time to tie you up. Go hard or easy. If you go easy I may show you some mercy!”

Some days I would just roll over and let her tie me up. Others I would run and fight. This was one of those days. As always, she chased me, tripped me, and overpowered me. She tied my hands, dragged me to the futon (a lower couch that suited her sadistic intentions) and then sat on me while tying my feet at the ankles. She was a master with knots – girl scouts. Again, she could do ANYTHING.

Now she sat over me with a mint green lacoste shirt (short-sleeves), green cargo pants, and grey cable knit socks. I was barefoot with a t-shirt and jeans – I hated being barefoot, but whenever Dena tied me up, she always took my shoes off.

So now Dena sat on the futon over her bound hostage and prepared for her favorite series of tortures.

(I once asked her why she did this. She said, “Why do I tie and torture you? Because it’s so fun and easy! Some day I’ll let you tie me and you’ll see how empowering it is. Plus, honey, you KNOW I’d never hurt you.”)

Now, I was a dead man because I resisted. “You’re all mine once again!” Dena whispered. “I shall show my prisoner no mercy this time!”

“Are you ready for your torture, my sweet little hostage?” Dena purred at me, uncrossing her legs from Indian style and moving her feet to my chest.

“Dena! Please! I can’t move!!!”

She knew that and giggled. “Of course you can’t move! That’s why you’re tied up – you need to hold still for your torture.”

“Dena, please, not this. Please! I hate this! I’m begging you!”

“Ooh, I love it when my little boy begs me. Too bad! I tied you up and I can’t waste it! I have to torture you! Here come the feet!” And with that she prepared for her favorite torture – her socked foot over my mouth. She would do it for 5 minutes at a time, often tickling me and teasing me too.

“NO!!!”

“Hmm, left or right foot? My socks aren’t too smelly today. At least, not to me,” Dena taunted and lowered her right foot onto my mouth. “Don’t worry, darling. In 5 minutes I’ll change feet. Why don’t you try and scream into the sole of my foot a little. I know you love that – it helps you pass the time! Here, I’ll give you a reason. I’ll tickle you!”

Dena reached down and dug her fingers into my ribs while he foot stayed on my mouth. I screamed like a banshee into her socked foot. Nothing came out, and she pressed her foot ever so gently down on my mouth to hold me there.

“Tickle tickle, little hostage. Ohh, my baby boy is sooooo ticklish. And remember, you bite my feet and I punish you juuuust a little bit more!”

I knew what this meant. This meant she took her socks off and gagged me with her bare feet!

“You have no choice, little boy, but to lie there all tied up and take it. I won’t stop tickling you until I’m sure you’ve had enough! And my foot is just sooo comfy over your little mouth right now. I looooove gagging you with my feet. How humiliating!”

After 5 minutes she stopped and took her foot off my mouth. I was almost in tears.

“Time for the left the left foot,” Dena announced, and planted the socked foot on my lips again. She then grabbed my bound feet and brought them, bent at the knees, to her lap.

“Hee hee hee. I shall now tickle you feet”

I screamed “NOOOOO” into her foot.

“That’s it. Let me hear you try and scream. Here come the tickle birds. SCREAM, boy!” And Dena tickled the soles of my feet without mercy, her foot planted on my mouth the whole time. My eyes were bulging as I looked at her helpless, pleading.

“What are you looking at, little boy? Say hello to my right foot again!” and she planted her right foot over my eyes. I was now essentially blindfolded and gagged with her feet.

“I could just tickle you all say, you silly little rabbit. And maybe I will,” Dena teased, stroking her fingers between my toes. “Maybe some day I’ll let you tie me up. But until then, you are my kidnap boy. Forever and always. Oooh, sorry, does that tickle? Huh? Huh? Does that tickle? Hee hee hee.”

Finally, she stopped tickling me and took her feet off my face. But I would be tied up for a while.

“I’m not untying you for a looooong while. So get used to it, darling,” Dena said with a laugh. “Now come here and sit with your best friend.” She grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up to the futon, sitting me next to her, half-in her lap. “Don’t you dare resist me or I’ll tickle you some more!”

I spent the next hour sitting next to her on the couch watching TV, bound hand and foot still, while she cuddled me and occasionally tickled me. “You’re so ticklish,” she squealed. “Such a ticklish little boy. I could just tickle you to death!”

Alas, she didn’t, and I was eventually untied. But just before she did, Dena got up to her feet, pushed me down so I was lying on the futon, and said, “A little something to remember me by, until the next time I tie you up.” And forced her right foot over my mouth again. These socks weren’t that clean and smelled a little, but I had no choice. Finally, Dena took her foot off my mouth and untied me.

“Next time I tie you up I’ll show you some mercy, OK?”

“Does there have to be a next time?” I asked.

Dena crouched down next to me, untying the last rope from my feet, and giggled hard. “Until you can fight me off, honey bun, there will ALWAYS be a next time. I can’t help myself. I’m just a girl who loves to tie you up!”

THE END



Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:29 pm

Wednesday, October 29th 2003 - 11:30:29 PM

Tying Dena...and paying for it

OK, here’s the story of the time I actually got to tie up Dena, my blonde, beautiful, black-belted best friend. Sorry for the alliteration.
Dena’s mom and my mom were best friends. She was 3 years older than me and basically an icon in my life. She could do it all – sports, she was beautiful, she was funny, and she genuinely loved me. Like we were brother and sister. Everyone she knew, she made sure I knew and they liked me. We’re still close today, and when I was 14 and she was 17, she was the center of my world. And she knew karate (tung su do – the Chuck Norris kind) like an expert, meaning she could take me whenever she wanted). The catch was she was kinky and very aggressive and loved to tie me up. And, as you recall, she would torture me by gagging me with her socked feet and then tickling me into oblivion. Sometimes she would just tie me, but usually the torture would ensure. I was, as she called me, her “kidnap boy.”

I pestered Dena for a while to finally give me a chance to kidnap her – to tie her up and hold her hostage. We spent most days together after school and I stayed at her house once/twice a week when my Mom worked overnights at the hospital (she was a nurse). I just wanted one chance.

“You couldn’t tie me up if you had detailed instruction how, Jessie,” Dena teased me on the phone one night. My name is Jeff – Dena and only Dena called me Jessie. “You need to overpower someone to tie them up. I can overpower you with ease – you could never overpower me! Even if you tied my hands, I could take you with nothing more than my feet.”

“I just want a chance, Dee. C’mon – we’ve been friends since we were little. Some day we’ll outgrow this weird stuff. You tied me up, I’ll bet, 40 times. At least. You’ve put your smelly socks over my mouth time after time. You’ve tickled me so hard I cried! Don’t I deserve a chance.”

Dena giggled and I figured my pleas were falling on deaf ears. Then she shocked me. “Alright, baby boy. One chance. Poker. Tomorrow night. Are you sleeping over?”

“Yeah, my Mom is working straight through.”

“OK,” Dena said. “Tomorrow night, bring $20. I’ll do the same. First one to clean the other out gets to tie the other one up.”

Dena always won at cards. Again, she was great an EVERYTHING.

“Dena, you always…”

“Yes or no, Jess. This is your only chance. You beat me, I’ll let you tie me up and hold me prisoner all night.”

I thought about it and realized this was my best chance. I told her she had a deal.

She giggled. “OK, hot shot, bring your money and your strength. Because if I win, I won’t just tie you up. I’ll torture you so bad you won’t be able to get the words, “Please” out!”

Tomorrow arrived. Dena’s Mom and Dad were gone for the weekend. I arrived after school and we both got changed. I had jeans on with sneakers, socks, and a concert T-shirt. She wore a tight red t-shirt – kind of like a leotard only it was just a shirt – with sweat pants and dark athletic socks.

Dena collected my money - $20 – and gave me 20 pennies, each valued at a dollar.

“Here are the rules – no limit on raises,” Dena said. “You can go all-in whenever you want. First one cleaned out becomes a bound hostage. And if it’s you…well, say your prayers. Because you jut might not live through the torture I’ve got planned.”

She dealt the cards. I had a sick feeling – like I’d have her socks over my mouth any second. I was nervous and it showed. She dealt me two 4s and junk. (You get I remember!)

“Check,” I said.

“I bet 4,” she said. “Bet or fold.”

I called it and she asked how many cards I wanted. I said 3. I got the 3rd 4 and nothing. Three of a kind is good, but this was low, and when she took 1, I had the sick feeling I was being played for a fool.

Dena began to laugh evilly. “Oh, Jeffrey, you have no idea how dead you are. You see, because I bet 1st last time, I bet 1st this time. And my hand is pretty great. So I tell you what – if you concede the game right now, I’ll show you mercy. I’ll tie you up only – not torture, no smelly feet, no tickling, no ice cubes on the skin. Deal?”

I wanted to run, but I had to take my chance. “Just bet, Dee. Your trash talk does nothing. You’ll be in just as much trouble as me if you lose.”

“You know I could tie you up at will, right? Watch your mouth.”

“Dee, please bet!”

She looked at me with a sadistic look in her eye, leaned in close, and said to me, “OK. I bet it all. All in! And you, little boy, are dead! I am going to tie you up and make you SUFFER!!!”

I tell you, I came damn close to folding. But where would I be if I did that, folding 3 of a kind? No, I had to see it through. Maybe she only had 2 pair. “Call,” I said, nervous as hell.

Dena smiled a taunting smile. “Hand me those ropes and get ready, babe. Queens over Jacks. Two high pair. Quite a deal for myself, yes?”

I jumped off. “You lose! 3 of a kind! Ha ha! Yessss!!!!!!!! You are mine! I WON! I WON!”

Dena was dumbfounded, but she gave in. “Unbelievable. I NEVER lose!”

Dena had brought ropes, cloth elastic belts, and a roll of duct tape out before we played.

“On your stomach, Dena,” I ordered, getting to my feet. “Oh, am I going to enjoy this.”

“You better not be a sore winner,” Dena said, lying down with her socked feet together and her hands behind her back. “Oh, one thing. I’ve got a competition (karate) on Sunday - I don’t want to hurt my ankles or feet. The ropes are too hard on them. Will you use the belts on my feet, please?”

She was sincere and of course I’d honor her request. I took the ropes and tied Dena’s hands behind her back, and then I tighly fastened the belt around her feet at the ankles. It had a chrome-type buckle that I buckled in back. It was tight. Dena was now bound hand and foot on the floor. The duct tape I didn’t use.

“You are my prisoner, kidnap girl!” I growled.

“Oh my oh my. Why don’t you watch some TV and I’ll just lie here while you enjoy having a hostage for once,” Dena said.

“Watch TV? And blow my one chance? Are you crazy? Hey Dee, are you ticklish?”

“Don’t you dare, Jeffrey! That wasn’t part of the deal!” Dena yelled.

“Deal? You’ve tortured me how many times? Now it’s your turn. I’m going to get you but GOOD!” I yelled back.

And with that I quickly sat on her legs and started to tickle the hell out of her stomach and robs. Dena shrieked.

“Wooooo! Stop it.…hahhahahaha! I’ll kill you!!! I WILL UNTIE MYSELF AND SLOWLY KILL TOU!!! YOU’RE DEAD!!!” Dena screamed. I did this for a minute and she kept up with the threats.

My big chance had now arrived. I took off my sneakers and revealed my sweat socks. “I think I need to keep my little prisoner quiet/ But what with? Oh, I know…”

“No! No! Don’t you dare,” Dena screamed as I got up and she writhed on the floor with her hands and feet bound.

“Sorry, sister – it’s time to shut you up,” I laughed and lowered my foot. But Dena rolled out of the way and quickly rolled across the room. I didn’t realize it, but the momentum had swung. She rolled to the other side of the room and very quickly, although she was tied up, got to her feet.

“Where are you going?” I said. “Come back and accept your punishment!”

“No way,” Dena said, and she literally hopped by me and fell onto the futon. She sat there tied up and I advanced on her.

Big mistake.

Forgetting, perhaps, about the skills Dena possessed with her feet, I moved in to tickle her unguarded. She saw the opening and kicked her bound feet into my midsection. Hard enough to knock the wind out of, although I wasn’t too hurt.

I fell to the ground and Dena pounced on me. I was hurting. Then she jumped off of me and, still bound hand and foot, got to her stomach , reached up her bound hands, and unclipped the belt holding her feet. Her feet were free!

“What was it you were saying, Jess?” Dena asked, standing over me. Before I could get up she sat on top of me at my legs, her back and bound hands facing my face. I tried to get her off but was still a little reeling from the kicks.

“Untie me now!” Dena demanded, and she then started to tickle my stomach with her bound hands. Yes, you heard me right! Her hands were tied behind her back, but Dena was tickle-torturing me anyway. I tried to fight her off my the longer her fingers stayed buried in my ribs, the weaker I got. Mind you, I’m INCREDIBLY ticklish.

“Oh, you won’t untie me? Gee, that’s too bad. Because I can just tickle you to death with my hands tied behind my back” Dena said and kept up the tickling. The whole while sheI panted and couldn’t fight her off. “Untie my hands now, boy!”

“STOP TICKLING ME FIRST!” I screamed.

“OK, but if I don’t feel you untying me, you get worse! You can’t get me off you, and my fingers are in perfect position to tickle you all day!” Dena said.

“Alright alright,” I said, practically in tears and stunned that Dena once again had gotten tge best of me.

Dena stopped tickling me and I reached up and untied her hands. She then jumped up, grabbed me, pinned me to the floor, and grabbed the roll of duct tape.

“You are a dead man!” Dena said. “You think you can torture me! You don’t know what torture is!” And she then very quickly tied my hands in front of me with the duct tape, wrapping it several times. She then turned around, still on top of me, and bound my feet with the duct tape. Good God, what happened?! I was Dena’s prisoner again!”

Dena then got up, looked down at her bound captive, and placed her black-socked foot over my mouth. Just to taunt, I think.

“Remember your favorite foot gag, kidnap boy? Just a little preview!” Dena said. And she then crouched down, raised me off the floor, and flung me over her shoulder, first putting the tape roll around her wrist and the excess rope in her sweat pants pocket. She started walking with bound and over her shoulder upstairs (at the time, I was slim and weighed about 115. She was very, very strong.)

“What are you going to do to me?” I yelled, scared.

“I’m going to tie you to me parents bed, if you must know. It’s a king-size and it gives me more room,” Dena said.

“More room for what?” I asked as we arrived in her parents room and she flopped me on the bed.

Dena quickly climbed on top of me, pinned me, and tied my hands over my head to the headboard with rope. My bound feet, fully stretched out, reach the foot board, so she tied them down to the board with rope and tape.

Dena then started to tickle me. “More room to explore my sadistic urges,” she said, fluttering her fingers in my rib cage. “You are MINE for the whole night, my little kidnap boy. Let’s hear you scream while I tickle you.”

I did scream until she hand gagged me. Then Dena tore off a piece of duct tape and gagged me with it. “Poor baby,” Dena gushed. “Don’t worry. I won’t keep that horrible tape gag on you all night. I’ll replace it with my nice, comfy feet soon enough. But I need to do something first. Wait here!”

Dena hopped to her feet and ran out of the room. I lay on the bed – her bound, gagged, helpless, and scared prisoner. What did she have in store for me?

Well, that’s a story for another time.

Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:30 pm

Thursday, April 28th 2005 - 09:38:52 PM

Dena Tortures Me, Again (con't) - REPOST

Original Title: Dena Tortures Me, Again (con't)
Original Post Date: Saturday, November 29th 2003 - 04:30:43 AM

Hi. It's Kidnap Boy again. I was supposed to fill you in a while ago on more adventures of being kidnapped, tied, and tortured by Dena, my beautiful, blonde, black-belt friend. But my computer crashed for a while. Sorry.

You remember the setup. She was 17, I was 14, and I was her constant kidnap victim.

(BTW the first half of this story is in neverland right now. Stuck in limbo because the October stories haven't been archived yet. Will this happen soon?)

So here we go with the rest of the story that I started in October.

When we last left off, she had me stretched out and tied down to her Mom’s bed. I was sleeping over and had finally won the chance to tie Dena up after dozens of times of her tying me. But when I went too far and started tickling her, she fought back, escaped, overpowered me, and tied me up with duct tape, then tied me down to the bed. After a swift tickling, she tape-gagged me and left me whimpering in the room. She was wearing a tight red T-shirt, sweats, and black socks. As you may recall, one of her specialty tortures was the socked-foot gag, but that had only happened briefly so far. She exited the room for a moment promising a night of brutal torture.

"MMMPPH! DDDDMAAA!"I screamed into the tape gag, still suffering from the first round of tickling while I heard Dena down the hall in her room. I was wildly ticklish and Dena was about as top and expert as you could find when it came to tickling. Remember, we were like lifelong best friends

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:32 pm

Ok, you might want to get a large glass of water or something else to drink while reading, 'cause it's very long...

Monday, June 6th 2005 - 12:52:21 AM

A Long Day With Dena

Here's a very long, crazy story about me and Dena. It's my favorite, actually.

1 – “The Scene” –

This happened about two weeks after Dena tied me up to tutor me and then tickled-tortured me until I got every answer on her quiz right. I got an “A” on the exam, and once again Dena had her way torturing her “Kidnap Boy.” I was 15 and she was 18, and I was no match for her with her karate skills (tung su do, actually). But she was beautiful and affectionate I my best friend and I really loved it, mostly. Her footgags were smelly but I was 15, she was gorgeous, and I had no problem being that close to ladies’ feet. The tickling was awful – I was hyperticklish – but Dena was so sinister and playful that I couldn‘t help but egg her on.

I arrived at her house this day in sweatpants and a t-shirt with sneakers and socks. I got there about 9 a.m. and her Mom was working until 6 that night. It was just Dena and me.

“Hi honey!” Dena said as she opened the door and gave me a huge hug. She wore a black v-neck sweater with short sleeves, green cargo pants, and green argyle socks. He usual look. Dena never wore shoes – she was in her socked feet. “We’re gonna have so much fun today. I finished my paper last night and I have all day to play with my best friend!! I could just hug you to death!”

Dena was really giddy. A few days earlier after my exam results I had a moment where I told her how much she meant to me and how much I loved knowing her, and since then she was just super affectionate to me. She was a softie for sentiment.

“Hugging me to death sounds better than tickling me to death!” I said after she stopped hugging and I walked into the hallway, dropping my backpack.

“No reason we can’t do both!” Dena said and ran at me from behind and sank her fingers into my ribs, screaming, “I’m gonna getcha!” I fell to the floor and Dena stood over me tickling me more. I reached up and tickled her above the knees and upper legs. She yelped and scampered off. She ran downstairs and jumped onto the futon and sat with her feet pressed together, giggling and grinning. I joined her and we cuddled on the couch.

“You know, YOU’Re just as ticklish as I am,” I told her. “Aren’t you afraid that someday I’ll kidnap you and tickle-torture you to get back for all the times you’ve done it to me.”

Dena laughed and reached one of her feet into my ribs, making it my turn to giggle and double over. “Oh Jess, how many times do I have to tell you. I’m the kidnapper, and YOU’RE my Kidnap Boy. You were born to be my victim! And there’s nothing you can do about it. I can tie you up like that!” she said, snapping her fingers and laughing more, wiggling her toes in my stomach.

(What I didn’t tell Dena was that I had bought real handcuffs at a novelty store a few days earlier and they were in my bag, awaiting a chance to be used on her. We never used handcuffs before. The dozens of times Dena tied me she did it with ropes, belts, pantyhose, or duct tape. The one time I tied her I did it with belts and rope. But how would I get her?)

“And if you don’t watch it,” Dena laughed, moving her foot from my stomach to my mouth, “I’ll tie you up again reaaaal soon!” I shook her foot off and tickled it through her sock. She yelped again.

We playfought a little more and we each tickled each other, and after that she showed me videos she rented, games we could play, and even talked about going to a small party that afternoon with some of her friends, who all liked me. Sounded like a good day and we started by watching a video for about an hour – there was no more talk of “Kidnap Boy,” though.

2 – “An Opening”

A while later, around 1 p.m., after we had lunch, then we went upstairs to her room and Dena showed me the main reason she was so happy – her completed term paper, 30 pages and ready to go, 3 months of work done 3 weeks early. She was an ace student and often finished stuff early. It didn’t have to be turned in for 3 weeks still, but she was going to do it Monday anyway. She showed it to me on disk. Hmmm, I thought. I might have something here.

If I could get the disk and hide it, I could basically hold it hostage. And I could tie her up today as part of the ransom. And maybe 3-4 more times over the next two weeks before giving it back. It was risky, but I decided to go for it. I suggested we play “Risk” – we both still loved the game even though we were in high school – and Dena said OK and ran to the back of her basement to get it.

I quickly grabbed my bag from the front hall and put the cuffs and key in my sweatpants pocket. I grabbed the disk from the drive, put it in it’s paper case, and looked for a hiding place. In her Mom’s room, in the back of the closet, was a tall stack of old magazines about 4 feet high (Home Journal, Cosmo, Glamour – stuff like that.) I knew they were there because one time Dena tied me up (what else?) and had to put me in the closet because a friend stopped over to copy some class notes.

(Dena had no idea I knew the magazines were there there – she had blindfolded me that time but I was able to manage to wriggle it off just a bit against the floor even though my hands were tied behind my back, looking for something to cut the ropes. No dice, though, and I replaced the blindfold before Dena came to get me that time.)

I stashed the disk in the 3rd magazine from the bottom and covered everything back up just the way it was. Dena would never find it. I then got back to her room just before she got back with “Risk.”

3 – “My Upper Hand”

Dena set the came down and sat on the floor to set up. Her cordless phone was in my other pocket. For a reason.

“You know?” I said, “ I think we should play something else to start.”

“Jess, I just ran down to get this – why didn’t you say something,” Dena said giving me an annoyed smile. “What else do you want to do?”

“Look what I’ve got,” I said and pulled out the handcuffs.

Dena put her hand over her mouth and laughed.

“You have handcuffs now? I don’t believe it,” Dena said, getting to her feet and walking toward me. “Are they real?”

“Yep – got ‘em a couple days ago. Cool, huh?”

“I’ll say!” Dena laughed and sat on her bed while I stood in the doorway. “But let me get this straight. You WANT me to tie you up? Usually I have to chase you down to tie you.”

“No. I want to tie YOU up!” I said.

“Oh really!” Dena said, getting up and slowly coming toward me again. “Well, maybe we should just see who captures who first, eh?”

“I don’t think so. Because if you tie me up, you may not find out what I did with your term paper!”

Dena gasped, stopped smiling, and went to the disk drive. Empty! She snapped, “Jess, that’s not funny! Where is it!”

“I’ll tell you after your handcuffed!” I snapped back. “Today is payback time, Dee!”

“Oh, you are sooo dead,” she said, but didn’t come at me. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ll torture you if anything happens to that disk? I’ll stay up late THINKING of new ways to torture you if that happens, you little…”

“You’ll get the disk back today,” I said calmly. “I told you what I want! If not I’ll call my Mom right now and have her come get me. You won’t have time to get me. And you won’t get your disk back. Your choice.”

Dena stopped and thought, glaring at me and then sighing.

“To tie me up – that’s all you want?” Dena said. “You tie me up and I get the disk back?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it? You won’t tickle me?” Dena asked, sitting back down.

“No, I won’t,” I said, lying. “You let me tie you up for a while and I’ll release my hostage.”

“Jeffrey…you better know what you’re getting yourself into,” Dena said. “Because there WILL be a next time that I kidnap you. And I’m not sure that I’ll be showing you much mercy when I do!”

“Maybe, but for today, you’re mine!” I said. “I’m going to toss you these handcuffs, and you’re going to cuff your hands behind your back.”

“I have to do it myself?” Dena laughed. “What, are you too afraid of me?”

“Yes, actually, I am!” I said. “I’m not coming near you until your hands are tied! As a matter of fact…”

I carefully reached into the drawer where Dena kept all her kidnapping ropes and pulled one out, about 4 feet long.

“Here sit down and tie your feet. Do it now,” I said, tossing her the ropes.

Dena shook her head and said, “You are something, you know that?” Then she sat down and tied her socked feet at the ankles, over her pants. She tied herself well with professional knots, just like she always tied me with.”

I tossed Dena the cuffs and she reluctantly cuffed he hands behind her back. She was now tied up, hands and feet, and on the floor in front of me. I sprang into action and grabbed a soft belt and tied it around her arms so she could move them to work her hands at all. I laid Dena down on the floor, faceup, and laughed as I closed her bedroom door.

“Here I am, Jess, all tied up! I guess I’m you Kidnap Girl today, huh?” Dena said as I stood over her. “Now where’s my disk!”

4 – “Dena Is Tortured” –

“I’ll tell you later,” I said as I knelt at her feet. “All those times you’ve tortured me and made me beg. Ah! Who’s in charge now, Dee?”

“Jeffrey, don’t you dare…” Dena said, kicking her feet as I took her argyle socks off. Her bare feet smelled a little.

“How does someone as pretty as you have such smelly feet?” I teased, then quickly sat on her legs and started to tickle her feet. Dena screamed and I kept going.

“DON’T! DON’T! STOP! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Dena shrieked with laughter. “I’m gonna tie you up and never let you go when I get free!!!!” She threatened me with all kinds of tortures but soon the laughter got to much and the tickling got too intense and she instead just started to scream and beg. “ STOP IT!!!! PLEASE!!!”

“No!” I said, moving to her upper body. “Look how ticklish you are, Dena! Let’s see how much you can take!”

“PLEASE!! NO MORE!! NO MORE! NO MORE TICKLING! I’M BEGGING YOU!!! I’LL BE GOOD!!! I’LL BE GOOOOOOD!!!!!!” Dena was now shrieking with laughter. Her pretty face turned bright red and she closed her eyes and her blonde hair fell into her face as she thrashed around, but I kept right on tickling. She looked so cute – her face pink and so helpless – and I just kept right on tickling torturing her mercilessly. Minutes had gone by and I was laughing and having a great time.

I pulled up Dena’s sweater just a little and started tickling her belly with my fingertips. Then I moved to her exposed arms – her sweater had short sleeves, remember – I began tickling them in the same way, up and down slowly. “You taught me how to tickle this way, Dee. Remember? Remember the time I was tied down to the bed and you tickled my bare arms like this until I was crying? Remember?”

“YES!!!! YESS!!! I’M SORRY, HONEY!!! I’M SORRY!! PLEASE STOP!!! I’LL BE GOOD, I SWEAR!!!!!!” Dena screamed, her eyes jammed tight, her face pinker than ever, and a smile a mile wide across her face. I thought of blindfolding and gagging her, but I loved the laughing screams and she looked awesome like this, so I didn’t. Her bound feet stopped trying to kick free and were all but sapped of their strength. Dena was helpless and weak!

“Not so tough now, are you, Miss Black Belt!” I taunted, tickling her neck and making her giggle while she kept screaming apologies. “All those time your dirty socks were in my mouth! All that torture you inflicted! This is payback!”

Finally I stopped and Dena panted and gasped and laughed. Then she said she had to go to the bathroom. It came out, “I….(gasp)….haha…I…have to (gasp) Go…go (gasp) to the bathroom. Please, Jess! PLEASE!!! I’m begging you!!!!!”

This was a Dena like I’d never seen and I loved it. So submissive and helpless. I reminded her I still had the disk and demanded that I be allowed to handcuff her as soon as she was done.

“OK! I promise!” Dena panted, quieter but still obviously tickled out and giggling. “I promise. You can keep my tied up all day – just please let me go to the bathroom! C’mon! I’ve untied you and let you go to the bathroom! Jess, PLEASE!”

“OK,” I said, running out of the room and into the bathroom across the hall. “Don’t go anywhere!” I taunted and caught another look at her from the distant. Dena was bound on the floor and barefoot and all mine. Awesome! I placed the kept on the counter and came back to her bedroom. I got her to her feet and sat her on her bed, still tied tight.

“The key’s in there. Uncuff yourself and then recuff yourself after you’re done. And don’t try anything or you won’t see your paper!” I told her. “Now hop into the bathroom!”

“You won’t even untie my feet?” Dena asked. “But I won’t fight it! What can I do – you hold all the cards!”

“No, your feet stay tied – hop, prisoner! Or I’ll tickle you some more!” I said. And don’t even think of untying your feet in the bathroom!”

“OK! OK!” Dena said she hopped out of the room on her bound, bare feet and into the bathroom. She was amazingly coordinated and did it without much of a problem. She got in and closed the door.

“Are they off?” I yelled in.

“Yes, they are. Thank you so much, Jess,” Dena said through the door. “I really had to pee.”

It was about 2:30.

I heard the toilet flush and heard the water running briefly. Then she yelled, “I’m putting the cuffs back on!” and I heard them jangle and heard a click. “Can you open the door for me please, hon? I’m tied up and can’t.”

“Sure,” I said, swinging the door open.

5 – “The Tables Turn”

As I did, it took just a split second for me to she the ropes that bound her feet untied and on the floor. Dena, standing alongside the door, grabbed me in a hammerlock with one hand and covered my mouth with the other hand. I tried to cry out but couldn’t. Oh no!

“Looks like the tables have turned, Kidnap Boy!” Dena sneered into my ear. “Pick up those ropes, now!”

I complied and she bent me down and I grabbed the ropes with my one free hand. Dena’s hand was still firm on my mouth.

“Now you’re mine! Move it! Downstairs!” Dena said and begun to walk me down the stairs, still with my arm twisted behind me and handgagged. “I need my disk back, and we’re going to try this a different way. Keep walking, Kidnap Boy!”

Dena was incredible. I had her! And now her she was again, preparing to kidnap me!

When we got to the den Dena forced me to the floor on my stomach, her bare feet right below my face. She freed my mouth from her hand and made me drop the ropes that I carried.

“Put your hands behind your back, now!” Dena said sharply. “Try anything funny and I’ll put my foot in your mouth!”

I complied and put my hands behind my back and I lay on the floor. I tried to look up at her but her foot forced my head down and my face into the carpet.

“What are you looking at, Kidnap Boy?” Dena demanded. “Put your face in the carpet and don’t let me catch you looking at me!”

I complied and Dena handcuffed my hands behind my back.

“Kick your shoes off!” Dena ordered and I did, leaving just socks. “You hate having your shoes off, I know. But my prisoners NEVER wear shoes!”

Dena then quickly tied my feet with the rope, and she tied them tightly like the master she was. “Stay there and DO NOT MOVE!” she yelled and ran upstairs. I obeyed. What else could I do?”

Dena came back downstairs a few minutes later with her hands full. She carried the same green argyle socks I’d taken off her feet earlier, 2 more lengths of rope, and duct tape.

“You are a very naughty little boy, Kidnap Boy!” Dena said, sitting down and putting her socks back on. “That tickling you gave me was terrible, and you’re going to pay. But first, let’s try something we haven’t done before. I’m going to hogtie you!”

Dena got up with the roped and crouched down, grabbing my feet and bending them up at the knees. “Don’t you dare fight me!” Dena said before tying my feet to the handcuffs. I as now hogtied.

“I think I’ll gag my little Kidnap Boy for awhile – I shall torture him with my sock gag later!” Dena said, now in full kidnapper mode and enjoying herself, as she tore off a big piece of duct tape and gagged me with it. “Hogtied and gagged! Just the way I like you! Now I need to decide what to do to you!”

Dena walked around the room while I lay at her feet, helpless and defeated. She stood at the window and remembered she had to take in the laundry from the line from the previous day. She ran downstairs, came back with the laundry basket.

“When I come back, you will be so kind to tell me where my disk is!” Dena said. “If not, I will force you to talk! Your choice!” And she went outside with just her socks on to take in the laundry.

I laid there tied and gagged and considered my options, and came to this conclusion…I had to make it to 6 p.m. until her Mom came home. It was 3:15 p.m. now. If I could hold out, I could leave without telling her where the disk was and could tie her up again tomorrow! (If this sounds like a stupid plan, well, I wasn’t too bright, OK?)

I knew I would have to endure Dena torturing me, probably tickling me with no pity. But as ticklish as I was, part of me loved the thrill of it, so I decided to see if I could make it.

Just then I heard Dena yell outside, and then come through the backdoor a minute later with the laundry basket. Her feet were bare again. I looked up and “mmmphed” through my gag as if to say, “What happened?”

“Shut up!” Dena snapped and ran upstairs. She came down with a plastic grocery bag. “If you must no, the neighbor’s dog pooped in our yard again, and I stepped in it. My socks are covered with dog s—t!”
I laughed under my gag at Dena’s plight, and she again laughed “Shut up” and came inside with the soiled socks, placing them in the plastic bag. She was right.

“Gross! I LOVED these socks!” Dena laughed, then crouched down in front of me and held the plastic bag open just for a second, near my head. I winced and mmmphed “DON’T! into the gag and she giggled and took the bag away, throwing it into the garage. It WAS gross. Dena then ran upstairs again and came down with grey knee socks – I realized these were the same dirty socks she said she was saving for me after my last kidnapping. Uh oh.

“Oh, you remember these socks, don’t you? Hmmm,” Dena laughed as she sat down again and put the grey socks on her feet, then crouched down and ripped off my gag.

“So, where’s my disk!”

“NEVER!” I yelled back, hogtied but defiant!

“Kidnap Boy, you’re MY hostage now, and we can do this hard or easy. Tell me now and I won’t have to torture it out of you!” Dena demanded.

“Dee, I still have the big card, and I’m playing it. So do what you have to to me. You’ve tortured me before and it’s made me tough. I can take any torture you give me! I’m not talking!” I said proudly.

Dena sighed and stood over her captive for a moment, and then half-smiled and shook her head. “We’ll see how you feel after a little time in my torture chamber! Let’s go,” and Dena grabbed me and dragged be over to the cellar door, where her workout room was. She got me down the stairs, after a little effort, and put me on the floor. She then ran upstairs for a few minutes and came down with a bag and a clock. The clock said 3:35.

7 – “Dena Tortures Me For The Disk”

“I’ve got a little more than 2 hours to get you to talk. And I’m going to spend ALL that time tickling you! So let’s get started,” Dena giggled and crouched next to me. She fired her fingers into my ribcage and began tickling me with all she had. I screamed and laughed abut told her nothing.

“I’m going to tickle you to death, honey, if you don’t talk,” Dena teased, tickling my armpits and sides while my bound body could do nothing to defend itself. “Talk to me and I won’t tickle you anymore!”

I refused and screamed, “AHHHHHH!” but wouldn’t talk. I tried to roll away but Dena just said, “Where do you think YOU’RE going?” and grabbed me and tickling me more with her fingers while she laughed evilly.

Then Dena stopped tickling and went to her bag. She pulled out a white tube sock and brought it over to me. “Let’s take a break from tickling for a while,” Dena said, and rolled me onto my side so my face faced her. “Let’s try the socks!”

“Dena, no!” I yelled, but Dena just laughed.

“Tsk tsk, hostages can’t talk!” Dena said, standing over me, and clamped her socked foot over my mouth. These socks were pretty ripe, but then she held the other one and said, “I worked out in this yesterday. Here…smell it!” and bent down and thrust it under my nose. The only way I could breathe was into this sock through my nose. I tried to squirm away and scream but couldn’t.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” Dena demanded, holding the sock under my nose with her foot squarely on my mouth. I shook my head no. It was 4 p.m. and I had just two hours left.

“Talk to me and you won’t have to smell this sock anymore, Kidnap Boy!” Dena demanded again, but again I refused. So Dena held the sock there as I tried to scream. This was amazing torture, but I was holding up well.

After a few more minutes Dena took her foot off my mouth and took the sock away. I gasped and moaned and said, breathlessly, “Torture me all you want. I’ll never talk! Never!”

“We’ll see how you’re attitude changes after I tickle your bare feet!” Dena said and took my socks off. Because I was hogtied my feet were straight up in the air and she just crouched down and tickled them slowly with her fingers. “I know a little boy who’s feet are very, very ticklish! Tell me what I want to know and the torture stops!”

I just screamed and laughed hysterically while tears came to my eyes and screamed, “No! No! No!”

“Then let’s tickle you harder,” Dena said, reaching into her bag and coming out with an electric toothbrush! OH NO! It was just the spindle with no brush and Dena turned it on with a sadistic grin and began to run it all over my feet. I want to jump out of my skin, it tickled so bad! But the hogtie held tight. Finally I screamed, “NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE!!!!!STOP IT! PLEASE!!!”

“Are you ready to talk,” Dena asked calmly, keeping the instrument on the soles of my feet.

“YES! YES! JUST PLEASE STOP!” I screamed, almost crying.

Dena turned the toothbrush off and put it down, then stood over me with her hands on her hips and said, “Where is my disk!?”

“OK! OK. Just get me a glass of water and I’ll tell you, OK? I am so thirsty!” I panted.

Dena thought for a moment, then ran upstairs. I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was 4:45. I was almost there.

Dena came back with the water and held it to my lips and I took a long sip. She pulled it away and said, “OK, unless you want the torture to resume, you’re going to tell me NOW!”

I started to laugh. I was still half-crazy from the tickling, but now I was laughing at HER. “NEVER!” I boasted, gasping. “You can’t break me! I have just over an hour left. I’ll never tell unless I can tie you up 3 more times! So hahahaha!”

“AARGH!” Dena yelled and threw her hands up, and then reached down and grabbed my face in her hands. “FINE! YOU WANT TO PLAY THAT WAY? Then FINE! Because I HAVE OPNE TORTURE LEFT!”

8 – “The Unspeakable Torture”

Dena wasn’t laughing now but was frustrated with me. As much as she tortured me, I had clearly gotten to me. But she grabbed a folding chair and brought it over. She undid my hogtie and lifted me into the hair. She grabbed more rope from that bag and tied it around me to the chair, and wheeled a TV dinner tray over next to where I was now tied to a chair. She then wheeled a different chair over in front of me and I thrashed in my chair to free myself.

“You’re not going anywhere, so stop trying to untie yourself!” Dena sneered. “I don’t want to do what I’m about to do, but unless you talk, I have no choice! Last chance!”

I shook my head and Dena turned and walked upstairs. It was now 5 p.m.

“Only 1 hour left!” I yelled to her. “You’ll never break me!” I was loving this whole day!

But then Dena came downstairs carrying the plastic bag that contained her socks, covered in dogs—t.

“Oh, you’ll talk!” Dena said slyly, placing the bag on the table in front of me and opening it so I could see the soiled socks inside. GROSS!

I was terrified. “Dena, w-w-w-what are y-y-y…”

Dena went back to her other bag and pulled out a long red sock that she frequently blindfolded me with, and quickly walked behind me and blindfolded me while I panted, absolutely petrified.

“I don’t want to do this,” Dena said, her voice different and more nervous. “But you leave me no choice! If you won’t talk, I have to shove these socks covered in dogs—t in your mouth!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! DON’T YOU DARE! NO! NO!” I screamed and thrashed, wondering where Dena was and unable to see. I was no longer joking!

“Shut up!” Dena yelled, grabbing my hair and pulling it back. “You made me do this! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! TELL ME HOW THIS TASTES!”

I felt the sock being shoved into my mouth and I screamed immediately, terror-filled, “AHHHHHHHHH! NO! OK! OK! It’s in your mom’s closet, the magazines!!!! PLEASE!!!! 3rd magazine from the bottom!! I swear!!! I SWEAR!!!! How could you do this to me???”

I was crying as Dena began to laugh hard and took my blindfold off and stood before me…with a clean white sock in her hand at my mouth. The soiled socks her 5 feet away on the table. She had bluffed me and I told her everything!!!!!!!

“Y-you mean, you didn’t…” I stammered, grateful.

“Of course not! I could never put dogs—t in your mouth, Jess!” Dena laughed and kissed me. “But fear is a great motivator. I had to get you to talk before 6 got here. Bye!” And she ran upstairs with the garbage bag while I yelled, laughing. “You stink! You suck! AHHH – why can’t I ever win???!!!”

9 – “The Punishment”

Dena came down with the disk and grinned at me and my heart sunk.

“You’re right, Jess. I ALWAYS win! And now, since we have about 20 minutes left, I’ll do you a favor. I’ll only torture you for 15 more!”

Dena sat in the chair in front of me and tickled me into hysterics, then put her feet up and gagged me with one socked foot at a time. I just laughed and screamed into her feet. I couldn’t do anything else!

“This is punishment for today!” Dena said, taking her feet off my mouth and coming behind me to tickle my ribs for 2 minutes straight. I slumped in the chair and gasped and finally the tickling stopped.

10 – “Freedom”

Dena untied me at 5:50, and then told me to go to the bathroom to run water on my hands to hide the marks.

She stood there triumphantly when I came out of the bathroom, barefoot again with her arms folded in from of her and grinning ear to ear.

“What a day, huh?” Dena said, and opened her arms. “Come here, sweetie pie!”

And we both laughed and laughed and hugged and her Mom came home and yelled hello up to us.

There’s more to this story in what happened afterward, but I’ll tell that at a different time.

Hope you enjoyed it!


Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:33 pm

Ending of the one above...

“The Aftermath”

Around 6:15 Dena decided to take me home when her Mom said, “Why don’t you and Jess go to dinner?”

We thought this was a good idea and I called home and asked my Mom if it was OK. She said sure and just to be home by 10 or so. Dena went upstairs and said she had to make one phone call while I put my shoes and socks back on and got ready. My handcuffs, Dena had earlier informed me, now belonged to her and they went into her drawer of kidnap tools. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the call Dena was making would change my night once again, and her Mom had opened the door wide for more torture.

Dena came running downstairs carrying her bag (like a purse only bigger) and a pair of white socks and sneakers. She put her socks and sneakers on – the argyle socks that had been soiled by dogs—they were now rinsed and in the laundry (Thank God!) – and we left for the car. Neither of us wore a jacket – it was unseasonably warm for early March. About 65. Dena still had her short-sleeved sweater and cargo pants on.

“Who’d you call?” I asked, putting my seat belt on.

“Marisa,” Dena said, her close friend who once had taken part in tying me and tickling me nearly to death. “I had to ask her a question for Monday.”

We pulled out and began laughing about the day.

“Whew Jess. You really got me there. You tied me up VERY well for a little guy,” Dena laughed while tousling my hair. “I have NEVER been tickled that bad before. Is that what it feels like when I tie you up and tickle you? Is it that much torture?”

“Of course it is,” I said. “You’re like the most expert tickler in the world. I have no idea why.”

“Long fingers and strong wrists,” Dena said laughing and reached over to tickle my wibs while she drove, causing me to yelp and jump away. “They let me get deep into your body, and the deeper I get, the more it tickles. Except the feet, of course. Your feet I tickle very gently with my nice long fingertips, fast and light. And I am good, you’re right, Jess. But I’ve also had LOTS of practice on my little Kidnap Boy when he’s all tied up. So in a way, you’re the real reason I’m such an awesome tickler!”

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” I said. “Damn! I should have KNOWN you would never put dog poop in my mouth. What was I thinking? You’re not THAT evil.”
“Hee hee. Live and learn, Jess. That was a brilliant psyche out, wasn’t it?”

“Where’d you get that idea, Dee?”

“That’s why I did the laundry without my shoes on. I knew there was dog crap in the backyard, so I walked out in just my socks and very carefully stepped in it! Ha ha!” Dena said.

“Oh, you suck!” I said, reaching to tickle her.

“No tickling the driver!” Dena said and we both laughed. “That really was a wormy little thing you did, Jess. Planning to steal my paper just to kidnap and torture me. I’m still not sure I’ve paid you back yet!”

After a minute more of driving, I noticed we were out of the main part of town and on a country road with lots of farms.

“Dee, where are we going to eat?” I asked.

Dena said “Hang on” and looked kind of concerned at the dashboard. Then she turned into a driveway with an old barn. She pulled behind the barn and stopped the car. She popped the hood, grabbed her bag, and ran out and started looking under the hood. I heard her say “Oh s—t” and then she called me to come to her. She was blocked from my view by the open hood.

“What’s wrong” I asked getting out of the car and walking around to the hood. When I got there I saw Dena with that old evil look in her eye, holding my (now her) handcuffs.

“Dinner, Kidnap Boy? No dinner for you! But YOU”RE going to me my main course!” Dena said. Then she pounced on me and wrestled me to the ground while I screamed for help. Dena put her hand over my mouth and easily then got me to my stomach, where she handcuffed my hands behind my back. Sitting on my back now, Dena reached into her bag and pulled out the duct tape while I thrashed around under her.

“I’ve got to get you nice and ready for Marisa!” Dena said, tearing off a piece of tape while I tried to scream “No!” and gagging me with it from behind. She then sealed another piece of tape over my mouth and said, “That should keep you quiet. On your feet!”

I refused so Dena grabbed me and pulled me to my feet. I struggled and struggled but she got me into the car and secured me in the backseat with the lap belt.

“You think I’m threw with my little Kidnap Boy yet?” Dena said, reaching down to take my shoes off. “Marisa and I are going to torture you to death! Hold your feet still!”

I didn’t but Dena got my shoes and socks off anyway, and then took the laces out of sneakers and used them to tied my bare feet tightly. She then laughed, kissed my cheek, and hopped back into the driver’s seat while I squirmed bound and gagged in the back. Oh no!

“Let’s go get Marisa, shall we?” Dena said, and started driving. I thrashed and thrashed but couldn’t go anywhere as she drove back into town and into Marisa’s neighborhood. It was dark now so no one could see me bound and gagged in the back of this pretty blonde girl’s car.

Along the way I tried to scream through my gag, but Dena just laughed and kind of half-sang, “Oooh, Kidnap boy! Tied up and helpless! Tickle torture! Smelly socks! You are sooo dead!”

I screamed and screamed but nothing came out through the gag and Dena pulled up Marisa’s house and honked the horn. Marisa came running out a few seconds later carrying a plastic grocery bag. She wore a white t-shirt, grey sweats, and flip flops. She got into the car, said hi to Dena, and we took off. Marisa turned to the backseat to see me bound and gagged and gushed, “Hi Jessie! I heard you were a VERY bad boy today and now Dena and I need to teach you a lesson!”

Marisa had long brownish red hair that had a slight curl to it and a beautiful face. She laughed and asked Dena, “Where are we taking him?”

“To the football field,” Dena said, which was only about two minute away. “I have the concession booth key and it’s the perfect place to bring him. Did you being sandwiches?”

“Yep,” Marisa said, holding up the bag and then looking at me. “Can’t let your Mom think we didn’t have dinner, can we?” Then they both lauighed and laughed like crazy.

“Did you know this little creep tied me up and tickled me until I almost peed myself?” Dena told Marisa as she pulled her car right up to the concession stand at the football field. No one was around as Dena parked the car and then looked at me in the back, squirming and helpless. “He thought there would be no consequences for his actions! Well , I tortured him plenty today, but didn’t quite get my full satisfaction. He told me, after we tied him up and tortured him a few months ago, that having you involved made it all the more worse because it was so humiliating. So I figured this was a perfect way to end the day. It was 7.

Dena and Marisa both got into the backseat on either side of me and I tried to scrunch myself up and avoid them.

“Where do you think you’re going, silly? You’re not going anywhere!” Marisa laughed and began to tickle my ribs in a very gentle and effective way. This was excruciating and Dena then tickled my other ribs on the other side and I screamed into that gag but didn’t make a sound.

“I have never, veer met anyone so ticklish. Have you, Dee?” Marisa said as she kept tickling my ribs.

“Never. Not even close,” Dena said, tickling me more and more. “It’s almost like the more we tickle him, the more ticklish he gets.”

After what must have been about 10 minutes in the backseat, Dena said, “Let’s get him inside. We have about 2 hours left before we have to untie him.”

Dena and Marisa dragged me inside the concession stand. The concession window/counter was closed and locked, and the inside was about 15 feet by 15 feet with carpeting and lots of boxes lining the walls. They put me on the floor and both Dena and Marisa took their shoes off. Dena had white socks and Marisa was barefoot. They stood over me with their hands on their hips and their feet at my head and looked down at me with nasty grins while I writhed and tried to get my hands or feet loose. I couldn’t.

Dena spoke slowly. “In exactly 10 minutes, Marisa will give me the high sign and she and I will start tickling you. We’ll tickle you everywhere for exactly 10 minutes, and then take a 10 minute break and figure out what do next.”

“MMMPH! MMMPH!” I screamed with my eyes bulging, begging them not to.

“In the meantime, before those 10 minutes are up, I’m going to take your gag off and you are going to apologize for everything stinky thing you’ve done today. If I am satisfied, maybe we’ll go easy on you in a little while. Do you understand?”

I nodded my head and closed my eyes and tried to WILL myself untied. Dena reached down and pulled the tape gag off my mouth and Marisa sat on a stool and watched her watch for the time. Dena put her foot on my chest and said, “Talk!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I stole you disk, I’m sorry I tied you up! I’m sorry I tickled you and teased you! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t torture me anymore Dena! PLEASE!” I said this over and over before stopping.

Dena laughed and tossed her head back and shook her hair and said, “Very nice, Kidnap Boy. Very nice. Say it again! Only this time say it clearly and without stammering and panting like the scared little hostage you are!”

I did it all over again and Dena stood there with her foot on my chest and her arms crossed and smiled down at me as if to say, “You are ALL mine!” When I finished, she said, “Again!”

I did and this kept up until Marisa said “Time’s up!” In an instant she and Dena just pounced on me an started tickling me again. Dena tickled my underarms with her fingers sunk deep into my pits, while Marisa tickled my stomach and ribs. At times they would stop and wiggle their fingers over me to taunt me and then start wildly tickling me again. Marisa tickled down my legs too while Dena my chest and neck. I screamed with laughter until Dena got tired of hearing it and put her hand over my mouth. I was almost in tears when Marisa finally said, “That’s 10 minutes!”

Dena took her hand off my mouth and I gasped and laughed and rolled around on the floor pleading, “No more! Oh God, please no more!”

“I’ve had it with your talking,” Dena said, pulling the stool over, sitting over me and planting her socked feet in my chest. “Who’s ready for a foot gag?” she asked.

“Oooh, me! I love this one,” Marisa squealed. “Are you socks smelly, Dena?”

“Ask the Kidnap Boy here,” Dena said and put one foot under my nose and said, “Smell it.”

I did and they were at least moderately smelly. Dena laughed and said, “One footgag for my favorite boy in the world!” and planted her right foot over my mouth. This was awful. She and Marisa just laughed as I writhed and tried to get away to no avail.

“Maris, there are some very dirty grey socks in my bag. Bring them over, OK? I think Jess would love to smell them!” Dena said while I screamed into her foot. Dena looked down smiling and put her finger to her lips and said, “Shhhh.”

Marisa brought over those same dark grey socks from two weeks earlier and earlier today. They were awful! She crouched down at my head while Dena kept footgagging me and put them under my nose. I moaned and Marisa giggled hard and kept the socks right there on my face. “You torture Dena, she torture’s you 10 times worse!,” Marisa said.

“Tickle torture, footgags, and foot odor torture!” Dena said planting her foot on my lips as she said it. “Always stick with the tortures that work!”

Dena then leaned down with her foot still on my mouth and looked into my pleading, desperate eyes. “Have you FINALLY learned your lesson. Would you like Marisa to take the socks away from your nose?”

I nodded like a crazy man.

“Are you ready for my foot to come off your mouth? Are you going to obey us and NEVER trying anything so sneaky again?”

I nodded hard again, and Dena laughed and took her foot off my mouth and Marisa took the socks away from my nose.

“Well Jess, you’ve convinced me. Your torture is almost over. But let’s see how obedient you are,” Dena said, reaching into the bag and pulling out that electric toothbrush again. I screamed “No!” but Dena calmly motioned to Marisa and Marisa sat down and clamped her bare foot over my mouth. “Don’t you dare bite my foot,” Marisa warned.

Dena sat on my bound feet at the ankles and spoke in her evil kidnapper voice. “I’ve got you now. Now I shall see how obedient my hostage is. But to do that I must apply this small torture device. Hee hee hee hee!” Dena turned the toothbrush on and touched the bare spindle to my bare feet while I screamed into Marisa’s foot. God this was agony!

“Wow – great idea, Dee!” Marisa said and looked at me and said, “What are YOU looking at?” and placed her other foot over my eyes.

While Dena tickled my feet with the electric brush, she then said, “Say, ‘Dena and Marisa are my masters!”

Marisa took her foot off my mouth and I screamed, “Dena and Marisa are my masters!”

“Say, ‘I deserve to be tied up!” Dena demanded.

I did.

“Say, ‘I love being tickled!’”

“NO!”

“Say it!” Dena said, running the toothbrush threw my toes and tickling my stomach with her free hand. “Say it or I get the socks again!”

“AHHH! AHHH! I love being tickled!!!”

“Now say, ‘Please tickle me some more!”

OK, this went on for a long time and they probably made me say 15 embarassing things while Dena kept tickling my feet with that electric toothbrush. I was crying from all the insane laughter by the time Dena finally clicked the toothbrush off and Marisa took her foot off my eyes.

Dena and Marisa high-fived each other while I panted in agony on the ground, laughing so hard that my stomach and sides hurt and crying from all the laughing and the tickling. This had been some of the worst torture ever.

“Let’s eat!’ Dena said and ran to the car to get the food. Marisa walked over to me, knelt down, winked, and started to finger my entire body with this light, spider-like tickling. I just gasped and yelled “No!” more and more while she giggled and kept tickling me like this.

“I love tickling you,” Marisa said, tickling my bound body for a few seconds longer, “and I will do it again!”

Dena then brought the sandwiches in and I asked to be untied so I could eat.

“No way – we’re not going to untie you yet!” Dena said. “We’ll keep you tied up and feed you!”

And they did, feeding me a nice turkey sandwich and a Coke. We finished around 9:30 p.m.

“It’s probably time to untie Jess and get our little hostage home,” Dena sighed. “OK – I think he’s had enough.” Dena put her shoes back on and then reached down and untied my feet from the shoelaces she had tied them with, and put them back in my shoes while Marisa led me to the car, handcuffed.

“Can I keep his hands tied for the ride to his house?” Marisa asked.

“Sure, “ Dena said. “We’ll untie them when we get down his street.”

On the way home Marisa tickled my ribs while I pleaded with her to stop. She just laughed and Dena did too while she drove. “The funny thing is I didn’t even plan on kidnapping you and torturing you today, Jess. You started it!”

“I know,” I screamed while Marisa kept tickling my ribs with my hands cuffed behind me. “I KNOW!”

Finally, they got to the bottom of my street. Marisa untied my hands from the handcuffs and I put my shoes and socks back on and grabbed my bag. I was sweating and sore and exhausted!

“Goodnight, Kidnap Boy!” Dena said before driving off. “I hope you dream of my coming into you bedroom and torturing you tonight!”

“I probably will,” I said, bef

Kidnap Boy

Postby Daniel » Wed Nov 07, 2007 12:34 pm

Thursday, October 13th 2005 - 10:05:24 PM

Dena's Helpless Victim

“Hi Mike? It’s Dena – Jeff’s friend….(laughs ) Yeah, the karate girl. Hee hee. Hi! Look sweetie, Jeff’s Mom just called me. I know you guys are supposed to go to a movie tonight and then have, what, a sleepover with the other guys too? (pause) Right. Well, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I guess Jeff has food poisoning. (pause) Yeah, he’s, like, REALLY sick. He’s pretty out of it now and his Mom didn’t have your number so she asked me…yeah, I guess he’s in bad shape. I’m so sorry!!! (pause) Oh, Mike, I’ve known Jeff all his life and he’s like my best friend ever – I hate to see him sick. Well, I’m glad you understand. Well, I’m going over their tomorrow – I’ll make sure he calls you, OK? (pause, then laugh) Oh, you’re such a sweetie!!! OK Mike, talk to you soon, OK? Bye!”
Dena hung up.

Slowly, a very sly, evil grin moved across her face as she moved her eyes down to me on the floor. That’s where I was – tied up and gagged by my evil kidnapper!

I had tried to scream my head off to my friend Mike as Dena broke my much-awaited plans, but I couldn’t because Dena’s very smelly socked foot was clamped over my mouth. She wore her dark grey knee socks, which stank to high heaven and I had been tortured with before, and they helped Dena’s merciless foot form a seal over my mouth to gag me and prevent me from crying out. Dena practically purred as she taunted me from her position above me on the couch.

“I’m sorry, Kidnap Boy! Did you have something to say?” Dena, for those who don’t know, was my oldest and best friend. She was also blonde, beautiful, a black belt, and my frequent kidnapper. She was 18 and I was 15. She called me “kidnap boy” whenever she tied me up and prepared to torture me, which was quite often.

I “MMMMPHED” into her socked foot some more and begged her to let me up. But Dena had me as a hostage and I wasn’t going anywhere. She had tied my hands behind my back and my feet with rope and I was her prisoner and her torture victim once again. I pleaded into Dena’s foot-gag for a small show of mercy, but I got none.

“I think I’ve definitely taken kidnapping you to a new level, haven’t I?” Dena said with a giggle. “I’m actually forcibly restraining you from leaving to go somewhere else, aren’t I?”

I screamed silently some more into her awful sock. Dena wore a red Izod short sleeved shirt and her customary grey cargo pants. I had only a white T-shirt and sweat pants on. This time Dena had seized me when I was getting ready to shower and go out with friends. I was barefoot because she had taken my shoes and socks off after tying me up.

“I know you and the boys had a fun night planned, but I think your favorite kidnapper Dena can show you a good time too!” Dena said, bending down to pat my face while her socked foot gagged me and my hands and feet were helplessly tied. I again tried to beg for mercy and she picked up on that right away.

“You’re not begging me to let you go, are you Kidnap Boy?” Dena said with another evil giggle. “Because that will only make the torture worse!”

“I know my feet stink,” Dena bragged, “because these socks haven’t been washed for a while! But once I start tickling you, it will take your mind off the foot odor!”

I screamed some more as a worthless gesture into her foot, begging her not to because I was insanely ticklish and Dena was the world’s most expert tickler, and Dena just grinned and shook her head.

“I’m going to tickle you to death tonight, Kidnap Boy, and you’ll be tied up the whole time and won’t be able to do anything about it. And you’ll think of Mike and your friends out having a good time without you, and no one will know that you’re tied up at my feet and being tickle-tortured by your sadistic kidnapper!”

I screamed more and pleaded with my eyes, but it didn’t work. Dena finally took her foot off my mouth and at the same time came down off the couch and straddled me, pinning me, before gagging me with her hand over my mouth.

“Shhhh. I haven’t even started tickling you yet!” Dena taunted.

Then Dena freed my mouth from the handgag and started wiggling her fingers over my bound body. I could barely even scream anymore – I just kind if whimpered like “no-dena-no-please-god-no-don’t-do-this-oh-god-please-untie-me-and-let-me-go-don’t-tickle me!”

“Hee hee hee hee,” Dena taunted, “this is what being tickle-tortured feels like!!!!!”

And with that Dena began to tickle me to within an inch of my life, laughing as she pinned me and tickle me without mercy as I laughed so hard I cried.

Gotta go for now. I’ll continue later. Hope you're enjoying it.

Kidnap Boy

I can't find the other part, so if someone knows where it is, please post it.