Misterdoe's Fiction

(To start the story from the beginning, click here)

I jerked to attention when that sensation hit, and I guess that opened the floodgates, because I heard the Q-Tip box slide open again. I turned and looked, and I saw what must have been half the box’s contents floating up out of it, stopping above or next to various points on my body.

A few disappeared up my pants legs, making me cackle anew as they dragged back and forth behind my knees, while others played with my ankles. Only then was I able to see that my foot ticklers were airborne leaves, somehow floating there playing with my feet.

My belt loosened and removed itself from my waist, and then yet another “unthinkable” happened. The outside seams of my pants just ripped themselves open, from waist to hem, and then were somehow yanked below me to rest on the seat under me. My shirt ripped itself up the middle, front and back, the remains falling off me, and then my t-shirt pulled itself up over my head… and stayed there…

Suddenly those soft little tips were all over me. Teasing my nipples, burrowing in my armpits, dragging themselves up and down and over everything they could reach. For half a second a lone rational thought crossed my mind: “What if a cop or someone approaches the car?” But when I tried to brace myself to straighten up, I found I was unable to move my arms. I couldn’t see or feel anything on them, and yet somehow they were locked in place. I couldn’t move them one way or the other. I was trapped, forced to endure the tickle torture being administered by mysteriously mobile leaves and Q-Tips…

I struggled, trying to pull my t-shirt either up over my head and off completely, or else to put it back on, so I could pull myself into a normal sitting position. As I struggled, I heard what sounded like my trunk popping open, then sounds of things moving around back there, and then the authoritative whump of the trunk closing. The one of the windows on the right side of the car must have been open right then, because I felt a draft I hadn’t felt earlier, but only for a few moments. All along, while that was happening, I was still trying to get my shirt down or else off. But after a few moments of struggle, I felt pressure on my wrists. Something like hands were holding my wrists still. I looked up and all I saw was my hands sticking out in the air. Nothing visible was holding them, yet I couldn’t move them.

After some time had passed, all the Q-Tips and leaves stopped and pulled away. Phantom tickling sensations continued all over my body as my skin adjusted to the sudden lack of stimulation after being tickled so long. Finally, my t-shirt pulled itself back down over my torso. Then, the driver’s door window rolled down a bit and unseen hands pushed my feet inside. The door opened, and I was pulled a bit across the driver’s seat, again by those unseen hands, then turned so I was facing forward. I had no idea where I was, but I knew I couldn’t have been too far away from White Plains; I could even have still been in White Plains.

Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, rope lowered itself in front of my face and wrapped around my wrists, tying them together in front of me as a van approached us from behind. I expected the van to pass, but it never did. I tried to turn to look, but as soon as my head began to move strong unseen hands turned my head until I was facing front again. Still more pieces of rope wrapped around my ankles, pulling them together and immobilizing them.

After all this, I should have been terrified, and part of my brain was in fact terrified, but it seems that more of me was watching all of this happen, in wonder as to what would happen next.

I heard what must have been the van door opening next to the car. I tried to turn again, but was still unable to. I started struggling against the bonds holding me, and against the hands keeping me from looking to the side, but the ropes wouldn’t give an inch, and a dark cloth was wrapped around my eyes. Dread started building up again… was something bad about to happen? Why was I being blindfolded? What (or who) was being kept hidden from me?

Then… there was nothing below me. There was this feeling of floating, and then a car door closed behind me. It was a very familiar sound… my own car door? I tried to maneuver my hands up toward my face to shift the blindfold, but as soon as my arms started moving hands caught them and held them in place as more rope wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides. In moments I felt something like a rug or carpet under me, and then the sound of two doors closing. Van doors? There was a bit of echo and vibration along with the thud of those doors closing…

I heard what I knew to be my own car starting up, and a split-second later the the vehicle I was in started up, and as it pulled off my blindfold was removed…

I was in a van or truck of some kind. One overhead light illuminated a windowless cargo area, completely separated from the driver’s compartment and with no way to see or know where I was being taken. I could feel the bumps in the road, as well as turns and shifts in traffic, but other than that I was in the dark about where I was headed.

Invisible hands grabbed each of my ankles and anchored them to the carpeted cargo floor, and more hands pinned my shoulders. Then, the light went out as a fingertip began tracing up and down the sole of my left foot. I tried to shift my foot to avoid the tickler, but the hands holding my ankles tightened their grip and wouldn’t let me move. Another fingertip began tracing up and down my right sole, alternating its movements with the finger on my left foot so that one dragged down when the other went up. More individual fingertips began doing the same up and down my legs, behind my ears, at almost random locations and intervals. It was mind-boggling, both the sensations I was being given as well as the idea of all these fingertips. How many of these “ticklers” were there, anyway? There were no groups of fingertips together, as if someone were dragging a hand over my skin, but at least a dozen different individual fingertips were working on me. I could see that I would hurt myself trying to make sense of what was going on, so I gave up and just “went with it.” Or tried to, anyway, because it wasn’t long before I was close to delirious from all the sensation I was being fed.

After some time, I have no idea how much, the van came to a stop. The hands holding my ankles and shoulders let go, and I rose into the air as the van’s back doors swung open. I floated free of the van, finding myself in the air over a circular driveway in front of a mansion in a thoroughly unfamiliar area. I looked around, and wasn’t as surprised as I should have wanted to be to see my own car parked behind the van. I tried to place my surroundings in a vain attempt to get my bearings, but it was useless. I had no idea; in fact, without seeing any of the trip that had brought me there I didn’t even know if I was still in Westchester.

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