by ancil

“Which toy are we playing with today?” asks Skye as strong
arms hustle her into their playroom. The room is
claustrophobia-small, bare walls asylum-white and floors plain
wood. Fluorescent lights solve the shortcomings of the far
wall’s lone window, which sheds its little light onto a metal
gurney on the floor.

It is the kind of bright metal ribcage Hannibal Lecter rides
around in, its purpose to restrain crazy, possibly dangerous
people; Skylar knows it’s for her.

“Nitrous,” whispers Charlie, her low voice satin sandpaper on
Skylar’s ear.

Charlie - Charlotte the name of her mother’s choice - likes
her lovemaking to leave marks. Skye spends days wearing the
glorious ache of Charlie’s affection on her insides, stretched
cunt tingling with the friction of every step. She is a
strange kind of nurturer that way, reshaping her in ways she
won’t be prone to forget.

And Charlie likes toys. Playing with something new her eyes
light up like a child’s, and to glimpse that light through her
lover’s cool exterior, Skye will submit herself to any of her

Her latest toy sits in the asylum corner, a gleaming silver
cylinder wearing a tiny red wagon-wheel. It resembles another
of Charlie’s favorite toys, though its bulk puts its littler
cousin to shame.

“Lie down,” Charlie grunts drill-sargeant-style in her ear.

Skye turns, stomach buzzing with the tingle of nervous energy.
“What, you mean on this...this fucking gurney?”

“Don’t make me force you,” Charlie says with a sneer. Skye
can’t see her eyes behind the shades, but Charlie’s eyebrows
tell her she wouldn’t mind this alternative. The only hairs
left on Charlie’s head, a grenade-shaped shaved thing, they
manage for their part to be quite verbose.

Charlie is wearing combat boots and khakis, and her tank top
does a good job of showing her muscled arms, each an offer to
make good this promise.

Biting her lip, Skylar submits and lays her lanky body along
the metal bed.

“Good girl,” says Charlie, grinning.

. . .

Skylar stares up into Charlie’s eyes, small grey steel,
ball-bearings trained on her with nazi precision. But her
eyebrows speak of affection.

Wrists lashed at her waist to the metal frame, Skye supports
the weight of her lover with her already-weak stomach, trapped
between those heavy legs, those storm trooper legs at her

Charlie inspects her favorite victim. Skye’s short spikey hair
springs electric-blue from her head like water. Her lips curl,
teeth displayed almost defiantly atop an upturned chin. Below
that chin, from a chain hangs a rainbow heart.

She wears a slick leather vest, half-unzipped down her chest.
A triangle of midriff shows between it and her jeans, which
reach almost her knees before dissolving to stringy white
fabric-strains. From there her tall rainbow toe-socks run down
her legs, disappearing into a pair of shiny black doc martens.

“Here we go,” says Charlie, her smile somewhere between a
sneer and a grin, as she reaches to pluck the plastic tube
from the nitrous cylinder. It has a two-pronged nose-piece
plug, which Charlie works around Skye’s head and pops into her
nostrils. It looks just fine there, Skye having been born for
nose rings.

“Ready?” Charlie asks, fingering the wagon-wheel.

Skye glances from the giant dildo to her hulking over her.
“Shit,” she says, almost laughing. This is Charlie’s

Charlie spins the spigot and something hisses in Skye’s nose.
It feels like someone exhaling cool air into her nostrils, air
from the summit of Kilimanjaro. Slowly she adjusts to the
nitrous flow.

She snickers and wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think it’s
working. I’m not laughing.”

Charlie gives her a dirty grin, and Skye sees that familiar
glimmer shimmer over her eyes. “We’d better fix that then,
hadn’t we?” Her rough fingers slip up Skye’s waist above the
rim of her jeans, course fingertips wiggling haphazardly
against her midriff.

“Ha hahahaha! Aah, you bitch! Don’t ti-tickle me! Aah ha ha!”
Charlie’s shattered nails scrape her bare skin, loosing clods
of sensation like purple clouds in a kitty-litter commercial.
Giggles float from Charlie’s fingers to her head in pretty
pastels, each stroke unearthing a new sensation like a freight
train. “Aah! Aah! You fuckin-ah-hahahahahaha ha! Ah hahaha!
Eeeeeee! Ah ha ha!”

A quick swipe of Skye’s zipper leaves her chest and belly
bare, quivering with giggles and the sporadic intake of
breath. Charlie digs her fingers in, watching the short round
mounds of Skye’s breasts jiggle.

“Aaaaahh! Bitch bitch don’t tickle me-hee-hee-aah! Aah ha ha!”
Skye writhes under Charlie’s touches, head thrown back against
her metal prison’s frame, mouth wide open and teeth clenched
near-shut. Her fists pull at the cloth binding them to her
sides, nails digging the heels of her hands and finding no

Charlie’s fingers run up and pinch her nipple in the notches
of her nails, fingertips flitting across her tits. Each touch
brings a flood of gooey lust that splatters wet on her libido.
Her body melts soft, breasts becoming squeezy sponges of lust
that leak out between her lover’s fingers.

“Fuck, fu-fuck!” The nitrous still tickles her nose, a scratch
un-itchable. It turns every squeeze of her tummy into a spasm,
shaking and quaking her mental-patient-bound body. Her free
legs leap like a marionette’s slammed over and over against
the floor, knees knocking hard against Charlie’s back.

“Enough of this,” she says, grabbing Skylar’s ankle and
wrestling it to the frame. Skye’s form still shakes with nerve
overload as Charlie unlaces her boot with one hand. Skye’s
rainbow-striped foot pops out as she yanks the shoe away, each
toe a bug snug in a seperate color.

Her ankle uncovered, Charlie binds it to the base of the
gurney, lashing both legs stocking-footed to the metal
restraint. She takes a length of leather and buckles it round
her knees.

“You’d better nuh-not do what i fuh-fuckinaaaah nononono no!
Ahaha!” Charlie skitters her fingers over the sole of Skylar’s
foot. She runs them in the grooves between ball and heel,
waves of pleasure quaking up Skye’s drug-addled body.

“Aah! Aah! Fuck! Fu-fuck! Ahahaha staaahp! Staaahahahaha!”
Skye yanks at her restraints, cunt turning itself inside out
deprived, slamming her ass hard against the hard wood floor -
Charlie-hard against the floor.

Her feet themselves flex like bodies fucked, balls bent back,
suffering the brute of the finger-attack, toes each a
different color, splayed in a different direction.
“Hahahahaha! Lala! Lalalalala! Hahaha!” She starts singing,
Charlie tugging on her teal big toe and running the fingers of
her hand along the rainbow stripes of her sole like keys on a

“Lalalalala! Aah! I’m s-singing for you, bitch! Ahaha!
Lalalalalahaha!” Charlie closes her hand around the arch and
instep of one ped, pulling the wriggling foot taut and
trapping each toe between two-fingered pincers.

She tickles the big toe first, the teal one, scrabbling ragged
fingernails below the pad and base. Skye squeals, bucking and
jumping in her steel-metal cage. Then she moves on to the red
one, which makes Skylar scream in one steady shriek.


The next toe is yellow. Charlie tugs at it, each time
triggering a reciprocal jerk from Skye’s upper body. The next,
green toe gets tickled around the nail. The last, little blue
one is pulled away from its compatriots, stretching all five
out away from one another.

Holding her tiger by this tiniest toe, Charlie scrabbles her
fingers in between all five, then runs them up and down her
sole in jagged zig-zag patterns. “Aaaaah! Ahahahaha! Fu-fuck!
Fuck me! Oooh! Oo-hoo! Fuck me!!”

Skye writhes, giggling and groaning under the sensations
flooding her body, face flushing pink beneath the blue canopy
of her hair, making her head look like a cotton candy
carnival. Her lungs burn, having screamed themselves hoarse in
her chest, and her nipples stab out painfully like tiny
beige-brown knives. “Fuck me! Fu-uck meeeee!!”

Charlie stops, watching Skye roll around her rosy cloud of
gas. She whimpers as the wet mist slides across her body,
wispy filaments lingering in the sensitive spaces of her skin.
They congeal in her cunt, a knot of gas pulled too tight to be
easily undone. She snickers softly as precipitation runs down
her skin.

“Eee-hee-hee. Hee hee. Eee-hee-hee. Oh. Eee-hee-hee. Oh, fuck
meee, plee-hee-heese.”

Charlie stands, sliding something from her pocket. Gleaming
and metal, it’s the cylinder’s younger sibling. She twists it
on and flings it Skye-ward.

“I’m gonna go get a drink of water. Keep yourself occupied.”

. . .

Skye’s eyes are on the gleaming silver dildo between her legs.
It lies there, streamlined tip pointing up and into her,
vibrating form shimmering hypnotically as it hums a song to
soothe her.

She grits her teeth and yanks, bonds still holding tight. She
can’t help her giggling, bubbling up from chemicals within
her. Her cunt is electric, humming in tune with the vibrator
before it.

Laughing in frustration, she pulls hard at her wrists. The
gurney hops an inch into the air, quickly landing with a loud
clatter. She hops again, the clang for a moment diluting her

She begins to growl, trying to drown her giggles as she flails
around in bondage. She snags the rim of a boot between gloved
toes and flings it uselessly aside.

She tries to focus her body toward movement, distracted by
wisps of smoke which tickle her tits and tummy. “Fuck you.
Fuck you, i’m gonna do this,” she grunts to herself, steeling
for a jump.

She tugs hard at her wrists and ankles simultaneously, in a
scream of metal sliding a bit closer toward the dildo. Sweat
streams down her face, framing a mouth of clenched teeth. She
strains to take a breath, fighting the giggles welling within
her. She jumps again.

Then she feels it: the hard tip of the dildo tickling her
jeans, vibrating distantly like a fly on her skin. She
wriggles her hips, pressing her groin against it. It rolls
away like an insect batted at. She whimpers, knot in her cunt
tightening; all she can do is laugh.

“You had fun. I heard you all the way in the kitchen.” Charlie
appears smirking with a cup in her hand. Skye gives her a
grunt like a penguin-starved polar bear.

“Oops. Sorry.”

She bends down and unties a wrist, and Skye snatches up the
vibrator, body balanced precariously with one arm still bound.
She sticks it in her crotch without bothering to strip,
feeling several layers of fabric fold themselves against her
lips. She pushes it still deeper, straining to feel it through
her jeans, until it starts to hurt, sending electric current
along her magnetically-charged body.

Charlie grabs the dildo away. “Hey!!”

“That’s enough for now,” Charlie says, wrestling her wrist
back to the gurney. But Skylar refuses to be taken so easily.

“God damn it! Fuck you! Fuck you! Let gowa me!” She squirms,
cursing. It does not occur to her to try to untie her other
wrist. Charlie tickles her into submission and lashes her limb
back in place. Skye wriggles and spits. “Fuck you, you fucking
dyke cunt! Fucking bitch! Fuck you!”

“Okay, enough,” Charlie says, taking a dirty rag and tying it
round Skye’s head, making a loose gag to keep her from

“Ummmmm! Hmmmm hummm!”

Charlie grins hungrily, eyebrows curling evilly. “Now...where
were we?”

“Rrrrrrmm!!” Skye squeals as Charlie digs her fingernails in
her tummy, each touch a lightning bolt leaping between nipples
and cunt. She squeals as each burn stings her, gently muffled
by the gag.

“Rrrm. Rrmm-hmm-hrrm. Mmm-hmm!” Her body, in a gassy haze,
melts to warm pink putty. She is a calm pastel cloud, except
for when those fingertips send lightning crackling across her,
articulating her strained limbs and the ties on her ankles and

Charlie gives her breaks, allowing her to sink further into
the warm cloud before drawing her back in an energy-bolt
burst. This time she waits until Skye is almost gone, head
filled with gas, before she launching a full attack, searing
her with lightning like a patient in electroshock. Skylar
starts to cry.

Charlie’s hands slip up to tickle her titties. They keep her
squirming, fingertips straying occasionally to touch her
over sensitized nipples, which sends sharp sensations cutting
into the dreaminess of her cloud. Charlie keeps her dancing on
knives in just her rainbow toe socks, only her thin cumulous
keeping her lifted up.

This torment of her breasts adds steam to Skylar’s
dream-cloud, turning the pink a heady red like the
vein-spackled walls of the womb. That knot in her cunt
returns, begging to be untied, every touch tugging at it as
every lightning-burst threatens to set it burning.

Finally Charlie obliges her, pulling her jeans and purple
panties down. Her lips are open wide, wings of red and blue.
There is a silver stud in each labia, pinning her lips like a
butterfly in a collection. Air rolls across her cunt, tickling
and tormenting it.

Charlie picks up Skye’s old friend, still buzzing to the side.
Planting the heel of her hand on its underside, she pushes it
in, making Skye bite down hard on her gag, groaning. She
flicks the black dial on its base sticking out of her,
twisting it to its highest, vibratingest setting.

It begins to buzz loudly, the fly returning with buddies. It
sends its own electricity through the wires of her body. She
lies eyes-closed and groaning as the storm clouds start to
form. “Hmmmm. Hrrmm. Hmmmm. Ummm.”

Charlie tugs a stud, sending sparks flying inside her. Skye
squeals at the shock. She tugs at each in turn, sending
steeper currents down Skye’s wires. The storm clouds build,
growing fat with precipitation.

Charlie bends beginning to lick her clitty, sandpaper-rough
tongue rubbing coarse across the nubbin. Skylar squeals as the
tongue lashes against her without delicacy. The friction sets
off sparks of its own, and she feels her rain clouds fill to

And then Charlie’s fingers are in her sides again, sending
electricity arcing through her. Her head falls back, emitting
a long electric whine, her body unsure to feel pleasure or
agony. Sparks fly down her power-lines as the clouds open up,
pouring water across them.

Skylar goes into spasms, limbs shaking in electroshock, bonds
barely containing her, keeping her bound to the metal frame.
Her toes curl all the way, floor-parallel: a perfect rainbow.

After the storm is passed, Charlie turns off the gas and
unties her. She lifts her lover, in just an open vest, rainbow
socks, and the heart around her neck. She is surprisingly
light, a nitrous balloon. She giggles, just the air enough to
tickle her sensitized skin. Skylar wriggles her hips, her
insides singed, feeling delicious agony as her parts rub
against each other.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, her voice swimming
through distant clouds.

Through fluttering-closed eyes she sees Charlie smile. “I’ve
got a nice soft blanket with your name on it, babe.”

Skye smiles back at her, head lolling against her chest.
“Soft, huh? Alright, though i was hoping for something