A DARK FANTASY
                             
                                                              By harperfoxie

  Let’s say you find that special someone. They can easily put you on cloud nine with nothing but a kind smile. They always say the right thing and you have complete trust in them. You know them like the back of your hand, or at least you think you do...
  However, you’ve just let someone into your life who’s looking for that perfect plaything. They’d never risk losing you and have no qualms at exploiting their unique authority and your naive nature to ensure you’ll never leave...

 Your memory is foggy, your vision and other senses unclear. Did something happen last night? Were you in an accident?
 You attempt to get your bearings but find it difficult to move. Attempting to stand up you pitch forward onto your face but it doesn’t hurt-almost as if the floor cushioned the blow. Your arms are numb and you can’t pull them away from your body. You try just crawling forward but something is pulling back at your waist. Even trying to move your legs is awkward as they hardly separate.
  Compose yourself, you think, try to clear the cobwebs, yell for help but all you can emit sounds muffled. Maybe you’re just still too fogged-up, too scrambled to hear properly?
  Things gradually start to get clearer but it seems to take hours. You slowly emerge bit by bit and, bit by bit you realize your predicament.

 A canvas straitjacket is wrapped tightly around you. Moving from side to side on the floor makes noises, almost bell-like. Buckles on belts? It’s a safe bet you’re trussed-up tight.
  You try sitting up again but your movement is hampered, a strap is around your waist. You twist your head and wince at the pain but can see that the belt is attached to a leash that’s fixed to the padding of the wall.
  Wait, all the walls are padded! A nondescript bed sits in the corner whilst a migraine-inducing fluorescent light buzzes at you from the ceiling.

  As your vision clears you see a door at the other end of the room and fruitlessly try crawling towards it but your range is obviously limited. A small hatch is all you can make-out on said door, not even a handle or knob on your side.
  Readjusting yourself, you notice your feet are restrained too, with a thick leather cuff around each ankle and your socks are doing too good a job of keeping them warm past reasonable levels. Your pants are strange too-a lifeless beige colour like nothing you’ve ever purchased...
  You again try to signal your captivity and desire for release-just some help. This is a nightmare, it must be! Was I arrested for something?

  Try as you might, you can’t even open your jaw. What feels like a thick, leather muzzle has your lips clamped together. Panicking, you start fighting your bonds. The straitjacket is most aggravating; every frantic tug pulls the crotch-strap up against your most sensitive parts-talk about mixed messages!
 No matter how hard you try, you can’t break free and your panic gradually becomes helpless exhaustion...
  It feels like you’ve been fighting your bonds for hours. The only thing you can do is cry.You can’t scream, you can barely move so it’s all you’re capable of. Then, between your pathetic moans you hear a gentle, electronic noise from above and see a camera apparently focused on you from the top corner of the cell. ‘AT LAST!’ You think, ‘I’m not alone!’ But you dread to contemplate who might be watching you...

  Not long after, the door clicks, opens and a tall figure walks in. You can’t believe your eyes! It’s that special someone, are they here to rescue you? 
  They kneel down, smiling as if nothing is wrong. You whine under your gag. Isn’t it obvious you want help? They sit beside you as if to comfort you and you put your head on her chest like a helpless child. It’s funny, you’ve never seen her in a white coat before.
  They calmly explain your bonds as if you hadn’t noticed. Then there’s the confession, one that’s too outlandish to digest...

  They’re a Doctor at an undisclosed facility-a private owned psych ward, though they never mention the name or where it is. They rub your leg gently, smiling as if this was all so normal;
    “You’ll be happy here and we’ll always be together. You may not trust me but you don’t have to. While your mind may fade away or crumble, you’ll always be happy. You’ll be satisfied and so will I. I know this is what you want, even if you can’t find the words to say it.”
 Feeling that this is a drug-induced nightmare you can do nothing but stare in disbelief and confusion.
  Still smiling they stand-up signalling towards the doorway;
    “She’s ready for her first round of ‘Shock’.”
  Two figures enter the room and quickly fasten a hood over your head. In darkness you hear chains and belts being rustled and yo’re now getting dragged away. You try to fight back but their grip on you is firm. You try to scream and wail but hear an odd chuckle and said partner uttering;
    “Isn’t she cute? I may have to keep her in that jacket even longer than scheduled!”
  Unable to get a grip on where you are and similarly in the dark about what lies beyond your door. You finally stop moving and are picked-up and laid out on your back, feeling more belts and straps being fastened about you as you weakly try to fight them off.
  Firmly strapped-down, the hood is removed and an overhead lamp blinds you. A further strap is fastened across your forehead. Now, even with your eyes becoming accustomed to the light you can’t look around the room you are in.
  The familiar face, the one you thought you cold trust is still present,looking down at you-still smiling;
    “While this part isn’t going to be pleasant, it is for your own good. Over time this treatment will eliminate any fear, any sadness, any lone thought that might haunt you. I’ll make sure you’re always happy!”

  You feel for the worst, not really knowing what ‘the worst’ may be. You feel something soft on both sides of your temple closely followed by an audible “Clear.”
  An unspeakably large jolt surges through your head. Had you the ability to speak, you couldn’t describe the feeling in your body, in your head. You black out.
You black-out before another jolt seemingly brings you back to conciousness. The pattern never seems to cease. You can’t remember the rest. From that point on, everything feels like a blur well, almost everything. Occasionally, you remember your partner. She’s really all you remember now...
  You don’t remember anything bad even. What pockets of memory you have left seem rather pleasant. A recent memory is filled with laughter-you, on a bed unable to move but your partner is there. That one face seems burned into your memory.
  They’re sliding their hands up, under your straitjacket and tickling your belly. Come to think of it, have I always had this jacket? You try to move away, but it’s fun, the tickling feels nice...
  You can hear your laughter though you can’t remember the sound of your own voice-words aloneseem like a foriegn concept. They’re smiling too as they watch you squirm. Their tone is cheerful, playful even. It’s nice seeing them happy. Every spot they poke, pinch and stroke is more fun than the last. 
  This seems to be all you know from now on. Just giggling, just laughter, just smiles. There’s no pain or sorrow here.
  They continue moving down your body towards your feet. You impulsively tap their nose with your socked foot, smiling. They’re laughing now, too. You feel the socks sliding off your feet and the air between your toes-it’s yet another new comfort. 
  They trace their nails around your soles. It’s intense, you struggle but it’s fun. Then they tease you with words like, “Coochie-coo?” and “Aww, is someone ticklish?” You have little understanding of these words yet they are nice to hear. Their fingers travel all around your feet. Each spot is more fun than the last. You have little choice but to struggle as their nails gently scrape inbetween your helpless toes as you gleefully giggle against your restraints as their fingers dance across your exposed soles.
  
  Time is no concept anymore, just happiness. The feeling stops suddenly, you catch your breath and you lean-up to see them open their mouth slowly. Are these to be more playful words? But no, they’re silent. Now there’s a warm feeling under your toes. It tickles but a different type of tickling. It’s wet, but the sensation it imparts...
  It sends goosebumps over your skin, under your straitjacket-it’s intense, a new level of enjoyment! Suddenly the strap between your legs feels better than before. You impulsively squirm, causing the jacket to shift around-the crotch strap too...
  It’s making this feel better. You tug a little more, harder each time that tongue slides aroundthe next toe. Every tug, every ticklish lick makes the happiness more intense but before you know it, the warm feeling is gone from your toes.
  Your eyes are glassy as they open to see your partner standing over you again but there’s a new feeling near your crotch-strap (funny, you think of it as ‘yours’ now), a little pressure and then it’s far more than you’d expect! Their grin is more seductive...
  You can see what they’re doing but you feel every bit of it! You can’t help but moan, you bite your lip, you tug at your bonds but you’re almost immobile...
    “Happiness,” my partner says, “...doesn’t require movement.”
  It’s getting faster, almost too intense but you don’t want it to stop! Your increasingly loud moans are absorbed by the padding of the cell but then you hear laughter-your laughter mixed with the unrestrained moans and howls.
  You feel more tickles but now their soft yet firm hand has moved under your pants, under the crotch-strap. You buck and thrash with glee,with what little ability you can as the feeling is overwhelming.You no longer know the meaning of ‘stop’.
  Even if you had the ability to track time the euphoric agony never seems to stop. You feel something, almost as if this happines could peak...
  Will it break you free? Are you even trapped? You lose any sense of reality for a moment, almost as if you can transend your bonds, away from your body...
  It stops. You feel yourself being dragged back down, down into your bondage. You begin to notice how hot you are, how tired your body is but there’s a feeling, it’s still there, almost as if it were a key to freedom but you can’t reach it.
  Your partner smiles and wips the sweat from your face;
    “My, but you’re getting feisty! I’m glad to see you so happy.”
  She leans over, placing her lips on mine and a spark of old memory appears-that kiss, a kiss you’ll never be able to forget yet it’s all you’ll remember. She whispers goodnight, checks my bonds, puts my socks on and pulls a blanket up from the floor and tucks me in.
  Leaving the room, before closing the door I hear her voice one last time;
    “Sarah is happy tonight. Schedule her for Shock in the morning and you still owe me ten dollars if she cums again during the treatment.”
  The door closes, the lights dim. Where am I? Who am I? Can I figure-out how to masturbate with just this crotch-strap? Seems like deja vu...