Terri Clark In San Antonio
Terri Clark got off the bus in San Antonio. She was glad to finally be able to stop for more than a night. She and the crew had all checked in to one of the nicer hotels, and would settle down from an enjoyable rest. Terri had just finished a 6 week, 52 concert tour. She had played as many as three concerts in one day, during the tour, but had always had Sunday off. Now, they were stopping in San Antonio for about a week.
She had plans to look the place over, for the possibility of a later video shoot. Upon getting into the hotel room, her first order of business was to order some dinner. After a dinner of steak, potatoes, and salad, courtesy of the hotel restaurant, she headed out to spend some time downtown. There were lots of things going on in San Antonio, on a Friday night. She wore her usual black attire: black jeans, white button-down shirt, black blazer, and black cowboy boots.
She went into a honky-tonk night club, and sat and watched as people danced and carried on. She wasn't supposed to go out alone, like this, but often she would sneak away. They seldom found out about it, as she typically wasn't out late, and always left a "do not disturb" sign on the hotel door.
Quite a few people recognized her, and she signed a few autographs and posed for pictures. She got quite a thrill when, more than once, one of her own songs was played. It made her smile to watch people dancing and enjoying themselves to her music.
She checked her watch at 9:30 and decided that it was time to go. When she went outside, she noticed that no taxis were about, so she opted to walk. It was only a couple of blocks, and the way traffic was, she could probably get there quicker by walking, anyway.
After she had walked almost a block, she heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps behind her. She turned to see two men, in jogging suits, jogging her direction. She thought nothing of it, and stepped to the inside of the sidewalk.
They came upon her right as she was walking past a dark alley. They turned, right as they started by her. They grabbed her by the arms, and began pushing her back into the alley with them.
At first, she thought she had merely gotten in their way. By the time she realized it was just mayhap and started to speak, a hand had come up and covered her mouth. Two strong hands held her arms at her sides, and she was forced to go with them. Once well into the alley, they turned into another darker alley. She could barely see at all. How could they see where they were going?
About thirty paces into the alley, the stopped, and opened a door. Forcing her in, they closed the door behind them. It was still dark. They ushered her through a couple of rooms, before stopping in the third.
They removed her jacket.
She felt them forcing her into a chair, that had an unusual feel to it. It didn't sit straight up. It felt more like a dentist's chair. She strained in resistance as they pulled her hands up over her head, fastening them in a set of leather straps. Her mouth had been covered with tape, when the man had first grabbed it, so she could scarcely make a sound. They pulled off her boots, to reveal her black nylon-clad feet, and placed each of her feet into a set of leather straps. After securing her feet, the proceeded to fasten straps around each elbow, each knee, and her waist. They also blindfolded her.
She tried to move, but the only parts of her body that she could move were her wrists, fingers, feet below the ankles, toes, and her head. She pulled hard as she could, and she was a strong woman, but she could not loosen the straps that bound her. She struggled violently, but it was no use. She could not escape.
She heard the men leave the room. She was still trying to escape, when she heard another person enter. She knew it was someone different, because the shoes made more noise than those of the previous two men. The person walked right up next to where she was sitting.
"Hello, Terri," the voice said. "How are you doing?"
"Mmmmph," she tried to speak against the tape.
"Nothin' to say, huh," the voice teased her.
Yes, she had something to say. If he would take that tape off her mouth, she'd tell him a thing or two.
"It's so nice to have you here, Terry," the voice said. "I've always had a little crush on you. I like strong women. I guess by now, though, you've realized that your strength is no match for my bondage chair. In a minute, you'll have strength you never dreamed you possessed. You'll pull harder than you ever realized you could pull, but it still won't be enough."
A chill of fear went through her body. What was he going to do? What kind of torture would he perform, that would make her pull so hard? What would be so agonizing?
He began jabbing his fingers into her ribs.
That tickled, she was thinking to herself.
He continued jabbing his fingers into her ribs.
She tried to pull away, but she couldn't. Right before she was about to burst out into laughter, he stopped.
"I am the Tickle King," he said. "I have come a long way, just to tickle you. I don't do that often. I felt you were a special case."
Tickle torture, she thought. That wasn't so bad. At least it wasn't going to be painful.
By the time he was done, she'd be willing to endure any pain, not to have to endure tickle torture again.
He had a knife, and cut the sleeves of her shirt down to just below the armpits. He opened up the sleeves, revealing her tender, white armpits. He brought out a feather duster.
He began lightly caressing her armpits with the feather duster.
Terri tensed up, trying to block it out. She couldn't block it out. It tickled too much.
She jerked against her restraints, and then broke out into muffled laughter.
That gag made it hard for her to fully exert her feelings, so that it actually made the tickling more unbearable.
The tickle king was moving very slowly, and methodically all around those hyper-sensitive armpits. Terri was going wild, and only the gag kept the room from being filled with wild, roaring laughter. She jerked hard, trying to pull her arms down to block out that feather duster, but her arms wouldn't budge. They stayed straight up, wide open to the torture being inflicted by the feather duster.
He pulled her shirttail out, and pulled up her shirt until it exposed her stomach, up to just below he breast. He began dragging the feather duster across her unprotected midsection.
Terri bucked against the straps, trying to pull free from the bondage chair. Nothing happened.
There was no escape.
He continued dragging around on her tummy, down to her sides, and then back up to her tummy again. Terri was crying with laughter now, and would give anything for him to stop. But she couldn't speak, to try and negotiate with him.
She could barely breath. The gag kept her from taking big gulps of air, which one needs to keep their breath when their being tickled.
Sensing that she needed a breather, he stopped. Allowing her to catch her breath.
After a few moments, he walked to the foot of the strange chair, and began using his fingers to caress the soles of her feet, that dangled off the end of the chair.
Intensity surged through Terri's body, as she started bucking against the restraints again, laughing as hard as she could through the gag. She tried to pull her feet away, but the were held strongly in place, by the thick leather straps.
After a few minutes, he too out another feather duster. The feathers on this feather duster had been treated so that they were very firm. He used that in his right hand, on her left foot, while his the fingers of his left hand tickled her right foot.
She was laughing the hardest she had laughed. That feather duster tickled extremely good.
After a few minutes, he switch the feather duster to his left hand.
Terri was violently struggling, pulsating with the ticklish laughter that just wouldn't come out.
He continued this for a few minutes, before stopping.
She a sharp pain in her arm.
She then faded away.
She awakened then next morning in her own hotel room, in her own hotel bed, in her own pajamas.
"Damn, their good," she said out loud.
She said nothing to anyone, because she doubted anyone would believe her, and she had no proof.
Chalk another one up for the Tickle King.