Kidnap Boy : 05 - Kidnapped and Tortured By Dena and Marisa (ff/m)

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Kidnap Boy : 05 - Kidnapped and Tortured By Dena and Marisa (ff/m)

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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.
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