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"Listen," I bark at the phone, "don't fuckin' call me again."
"Are you drunk enough yet?"
"I'm not gonna answer the phone again. The answer is no."
"C'mon. I know you."
"Hell, no! You got that?"
"You'll break down, Wail. Have another toke."
"Fuck off."
"It'll be fun. You know that. I love to have fun with you, moose."
"Keeper - no. Do not fuckin' call again."
"Think it over. You hate your job anyway. I've got a much b-"
I hang up the phone.

No, I'm past the danger now. Good thing Keeper didn't call a half-hour ago...
I don't know what gets into me sometimes. Saying yes. Okay, asshole, go ahead. It's kidnapped me three times - four? Yeah. That time in the cave. Shit.
The fucker's out to get me. Magically grab me and haul me off. Torture. The works.
Laughing until my voice was worn out. Nothing left, and it kept on making me roar. Each time it catches me for a few days longer.
Yeah, I'd definitely get fired. So sorry, boss. You fuckwad. A big ol' sadist kidnapped my ass again. It's playing with me nonstop. Ain't no way it'll let me go this week.
Hardcore...

"Better lock your windows," Keeper taunts me.
"Fuck you," I say smugly. Real brave, when it's not right here.
"I can slip in, any time I want. No matter where you run."
"Grab somebody else tonight."
"If I have to," it shoots back. "But I wanna party with you."
"All week."
It just laughs.
"Shit. Longer than that? You are seriously twisted."
"I know. But you love it."
"The hell I do!"
"I'm gonna tie you up, Wail. Slap some tape over that big mouth. Take you away, and nobody's gonna see where I take you. Lockdown -"
"Get somebody else."
"You get first shot at it."
"Oh, thanks. Fuck -"
"So you wanna do it?"
"No, I don't wanna do it."
"Wail. C'mon. I know y-"
"Forget it. Torture somebody else."
"I've got some great weed, moose."
That makes me pause. Dammit, I didn't expect it to say that...
So I hang up again.

I'm almost out of smoke, myself. Another couple shots, then. Yeah, I'm doin' just fine, here. Sick bastard waits to call me on a Friday night - like I'm dumb enough to think "Oooooo, maybe it'll let me go before Monday morning, this time it'll listen to me."
Thrashing the hell out of me. Nobody would ever believe the weird shit it likes...
It's enough to make you crazy. I mean, hell, it's not all - agony. That's part of the bait. Some of the kinky shit feels good. And it takes good care of me, sort of. Great food, more than I can drink, When Keeper's talked about reefer before, it did come through. If it really wanted to get on my good side it would score that incredible weed for me. And keep the nightmare kink down to, maybe, just the weekend.

"No," I say as soon as I pick up the phone.
"Aw."
"Why even ask me? You can just grab me anytime."
"Maybe I will... if you don't say yes."
Now I'm confused. It always wants me to say yes. I still think it can't go ahead without me telling it to. "Shit."
"I've got some movies you're gonna love. Big ol' moose."
"Sweetening the deal, huh?"
It just chuckles.
"Are you gonna show me this great porn, this time? I seem to remember looking over at the stack of movies you said were so fuckin' awesome, still shrink-wrapped."
"We got other stuff to keep you occupied."
"Amused," I shoot back. "Fuckin' asshole."
"Say the word, now. I'm ready."
"I know you are."
"Wail."
Dammit, I'm weakening. And I know better. I really do. But the fucker's got all the stuff there. Serious party. "If you were to agree... say, tonight only."
"You're out of your mind."
"Kee-"
"I haven't even laid a finger on you yet, and you're totally delusional."
"One night."
"Bullshit. That's now how I work."
"Then... you can forget it."
"They're hot movies, too. I know what you like."
"Go to hell."
Laughter. "O-kay..."
Keeper hangs up.

I can't do it. No matter what it's offering, the price is too high. Days and days, red-lining. At the absolute fuckin' limit of what I can stand. More than I can stand, actually. That's what Keeper is into.
Maybe this time it'll -
Stop it. Stop, just stop that shit right now. It won't. I say yes, and it'll take charge just like the other times. Pull out all the fuckin' stops. I get fired, again, and even if it throws all that cash at me I'm not gonna go along with this. I'm not. Let it catch some other sucker. Torture him.
Get him high...

"I can't, uh, say alright, here's a blank check -"
"Sure you can," Keeper says, cocky as fuck. "I know what I'm doing."
"No argument there. Uh -"
"Yes. That's all I wanna hear out of you, Wail. Say it."
"There's gotta be some limits. This time."
"Never," and it chuckles at me. "That's what makes it interesting."
"But -"
"You know better than that. Just leave everything to me. I've got big fun ready and waiting for you. No telling what I'll do, right? All you've gotta say is 'yes'. Then I'll come and get ya, moose. Sure as shit."
"No."
"Wail. I'm not inclined to take no for an answer."
"So you're just gonna kidnap me anyway."
"Tonight. Yeah. If you say yes."
"And if I don't?"
Laughter, again. "Dude. You're gonna say yes. We both know it. Get it over with! Then you can crash, and when you're out I'll take you away. Hide your ass."
It pisses me off when somebody tells me what I'm thinking, or what I'm gonna do. Keeper is sounding all confident just so I'll think it knows better. I don't need this. I'm going to hang up the phone and shut it off. It's so damn cocky.
"You can't make me..."
"Yes. Y-yeeesssss. Fuckin' say yes, moose. Okay. O-kay..."
"If I want to say it, I'll say it. On my own."
"If you want to say..."
"Yes. Or no," I add quickly.
"Wail." Keeper sounds pleased.
"You're not manipulating me into doing anything."
"Okay. I don't want you here if you're gonna be... such a tightass."
"What? Hah. You... Since when am I no fun?"
"I'm only saying -"
"You're fuckin' with me again. I can't believe I was actually thinking of saying yes."
It makes a mocking noise. "Don't let me stop you."
"I won't! You don't get to run the show... Uh, I thought you were begging me to come, as if that even matters."
"Wail! C'mon. I invited you. It would be great."
"Yeah - great for you. Miserable for me."
"You don't wanna have fun?"
"Yes. Uh, wait..."
There's a pause.
"Yes? Does that mean what I think it means?"
I let a much longer pause go by. Then, "I must be crazy."
It snickers. And I know that fuckin' tone. Oh, you will be crazy. Guaranteed. That's it. No turning back now -
"Go to bed, Wail. We're gonna have so much fun."
"You will," I snap. But there's relief, somehow. No more wondering if I'm screwed or not. "Not so sure about me."
"I am. Serious fun. Leave everything to me."
Keeper hangs up again.
I'm starting to realize what I signed up for...
 

Oh, man, I must've slept forever. Right through the hangover. I've got that other low-grade hangover from sleeping too much.
I'm comfortable. The bed is -
Satin? This is not my bed.
What the hell did I do?
Keeper. Oh, shit, I remember now. How wrecked was I - did I really say yes, finally? I must have. Every time, it makes me agree to this shit. No possible way I want this to happen today.
This week.
"Gotcha," it sighs.
I sit up quick. "Hold on -"
The usual wave bubbles up from the back of my neck, wild and greedy...
 

"Alexei. Alright."
Darkened room. Huh?
"Where am I?"
"You're... in the storm cellar." A chuckle or two -
Shit - that phrase... red alert! Probably just a coincidence. Damn.
"Who are you?"
More easy laughter.
Uh-oh. A mild 'uh-oh' feeling, but it's there just the same.
"Wanna cigarette?"
"No," I say quickly.
"Maybe... something stronger?"
"For a second, I consider it. Crazy. Not wherever this is, and not without seeing the guy who's talking. "Uh, no. Thanks. Where are you?"
"Right here."
Bigger sense of alarm. Nobody's there. Then I think this must be a joke. There's a speaker, hidden somewhere. I relax a little, kinda annoyed because somebody's messing with me. "You are, huh? Where is this place?"
"It's a secret."
Shit. Oh, shit. That... it still can't be as bad as I'm imagining, vaguely. But I turn, and see the door. Whew. Take a step.
"No, you don't."
"And - the door starts to close."
"Oh no oh no shit oh shit!"
I start to run.
Easily, without even slamming, it closes before I can get there.
"Open the damn door," I yell.
Instead, I hear a deep sound in the door. Metal over metal.
"Open it!"
The guy's voice sighs with relief. "Just relax." He must have a camera or something. Hell, if there's a power door... Definitely seems calmer, though. Still real happy. But why -
Door open, the voice is more excited. When it's closed, and locked...
Oh, fuck.
I've got to be imagining all of this.
The other dude is calmer... because I'm trapped.
"Open the mutherfucking door. Right now."
"Nope. You're not going anywhere, buddy."
Shit...

Not going anywhere. Cellar -
That's absolutely impossible, what I'm thinking. A long time ago, those sadistic friends of my sister's... But they're long gone now. This is not the same thing. It just can't be the same thing. They were too stupid to pull this off.
I grab the doorknob with both hands and jerks on it.
"This is all soundproofed. Really, Alexei... calm down and have a smoke."
I'm just about to start pounding and screaming. The thickness of the door, which isn't shifting even a little bit, and what may well be padded vinyl on the wall near the door... and the creepy calmness of the other guy's voice - they stop me from freaking out. For the time being, anyway.
This is very bad, somehow. Unbelievably bad. Maybe, if I stays calm...
Slowly, I reach for my pack. The voice doesn't say anything... not even after I light up and try to look around the dimly lit room.
There, I thought crazily, I did what you wanted. Just fuckin' let me go now, please...
The voice snickers a few times.
Storm cellar. Locked door - and that damn, casual, arrogant-fucker laugh. This definitely cannot be happening... but it is. I take another drag, getting angrier. Knowing, deeper down, that rage won't really help me at all. Not a bit -
"What are you afraid of?" A soft taunt.
"Let me out of here. I do not want to be here. You got that?"
"What are you so afraid of?"
I'm not going to stand here and chat with...
"Just answer the question, Alexei," it urges me.
"No."
"Say it."
"No fuckin' way. Open -"
"I mean, it's not like you're going to give me ideas. That I don't already have."
Oh... fuck.
"What do you want?"
"You don't know what I want yet?"
"Let me out."
"No chance. And I mean, zero. I've got everything just the way I wanted it. And then... I went out and got you."
A slight click -
Light, from above a shelf.
Aw, no!
Feathers. Different kinds. Right there.
Without even thinking about it, I grab for the doorknob again. "I... do not wanna do this."
"I know."
"No... Please. Don't. Not, uh -"
"Not what?"
"Forget it."
"Say it, dude."
"Shit! Open the fucking door."
"Leave the door alone."
"Help! Help!"
"No one will hear you. I made sure of that."
"Oh... shit. You gotta let me out."
"No, I don't." More of those maddening, calm chuckles.
"I can't."
"Can't what?"
I look over at the feathers.

"Say it, Alexei."
"No. Look -"
"Say it. You know what's up."
"No!"
"Down in the storm cellar -"
"Help!"
"Locked in."
"Oh, no, no, c'mon! You can't be serious. Open the door."
"Say it."
"No -"
"What happened in storm cellars. I'm not supposed to know, am I?"
"Help!" And I pound on the door again, hard, long. "Hey! Help! Help!"
"But I do know. Say it... and maybe I'll let you go."
"Fuck off. I'm not that dumb."
"I want to hear you say it."
"Help! Somebody, call the cops, help, police! Help!"
"You know exactly what's going to happen."
I kick the damn door a few times... and finally sag.
Turning around, breathing hard - scared, pissed off - and the feathers are still there. There's nobody else in the room. Just me - and something else, talking to me. It's got feathers. The door shut, like magic. Trapped, storm cellar, feathers.
"Let me go."
"Say it."
"Dammit..."
"Relax, now."
"Forget that! You can't do - listen, I am not gonna just... go along with this!"
"You don't have any choice."
"Fuck -"
"Say it."
I feel more... defeated than I can remember. When I was younger, the preeminent emotion was shock. Damn cellars. Not again, it can't happen, no, absolutely no fuckin' way.
"What are these feathers here for, Alexei?"
I think of the word, and wait for the fucker to say it. But it's been ordering me. Maybe, if I just say it, the other guy will laugh and open the damn door, let me go.
For...
It's so hard.
"Uh. Tickling."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Maybe I didn't. One more time."
I hesitate. Then, trying to put as much disgust into it as I can - "Tickling."
"Right." More laughter. "Tickling."
"Let me out."
"Oh, no."
I kick the door again.
"I suggest you smoke up," the voice says easily. "While you can."
"Shit... Look, I -"
"Wanna beer?"
I just sigh.

A cabinet opens - and a longneck bottle floats down to the table.
"Oh no," I say firmly.
Magic.
I have got to get out of here, before I go totally insane. The voice actually said tickling. I heard it. And stuff floats around, all by itself. The damn door won't open.
"I can't... I'm telling you, right now, I'll go nuts," I complain.
"Drink up."
A chair moves out.
I can't believe this. Never again, I can't do this, not as an adult. That doesn't reassure me at all, because there's a magical fucker here in the room, taunting me. Feathers, and magic. It could be so much mutherfuckin' worse this time.
Not "could". It will be unthinkably worse -
No! This can't happen. I've got to make it see...
"You've gotta open the door," I say lamely.
"When I'm through."
Through -
"No," I say, almost pouting. I have to sit down.
"Yeah," the voice laughs.
I knew it, I think. Nothing's... happening yet, and I'm so nervous I light another smoke.
"What do you want?"
"Huh?"
"I'll get... you name your price."
"Oh." There's a pause. "No, thanks."
"No?"
"There's one thing I want, more than anything. And it's about to happen."
I have to think about that for awhile. "No -"
"And keep happening. The only thing I still needed was... you."
"Oh, fuck."
"I guess you don't know how... completely satisfying it is."
I squint, looking around again. "You're crazy."
Laughter. "In one area - okay. I'll admit it. But that's why you're here."
No no no no, I think, wondering if it'll possibly do any good to whine and beg. Instead of sitting here, having a smoke, drinking a beer... I want to get the hell away from this damn place, right now, and far away from the chuckling voice. The feathers. And that's not going to happen. Nothing is more obvious than that. This is not a bluff, there's no possible chance I can bust my way out... and it's all set up. Done deal.
Insane. Tickling.
"I'll get you... others," I say, as calm as I can manage. "You could have a few -"
"See? You're not freaking out, and now you're trying to bargain. Cool cat. That comes with experience, maybe. In cellars. No, Alexei. You're the one I was after. Ever since I found out -"
"How?"
Chuckling. "A certain notebook."
Damn! I knew it was going to say that. My old journal.
"If you hadn't written what you did, and kept it - you wouldn't be here right now. But I'm glad you did. You got no idea how glad."
"What do you want from me?," I wail. "What else? I'll do anything you want. I'm serious."
"I believe you. But it doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does."
"Alexei. I'll be doing all the work."
I wince, and stare at the door again - meaningfully. If I could just get the door open, and run, I'd sprint away from this crazy magic son of a bitch - "Tickling," it says. Happily, but with a definite edge in its voice. "I can't get enough tickling. Literally."
My fuckin' heart is pounding so hard. "Look -"
"Just never get tired of it."
"I can't... do this!"
Another light clicks on, and my head whips around.
"Presto," the voice says, very quietly.
A sheet, covering something, moves off -
Chains. Leather.

Not believing it at all, I watch a swing lift off the ground. The chains are thick, and they make the noise I'd expect - as they're pulled up to the ceiling. There must've been hooks there, in the dark. The swing has four thick chains...
And leather cuffs, waiting.
This is so much worse than anything I remember, just seeing how thick the leather is. The chains. I'd be caught so much worse in that rig. Legs spread wide. Helpless... and exposed.
"You can't."
"I will."
"No."
"How 'bout you stand up? Take off your jacket. Or would you rather I did it?"
"Look, you gotta listen -"
"That could be fun. You know. If I stripped you, while you fought me."
"No, no, you can't fuckin' do this."
"Yes, I can," it said, really happy about that. "Let's go."
"You just... I can't do this, I can't. Listen to me!"
"I'll be listening, alright. All that noise, as I'm tickling... and tickling. You bet I've been looking forward to that."
"NO!"
"Stand up, buddy. Last chance."
Fear, terror, frustration, anger, the hopeless knowledge the bastard was somehow invisible, and certainly it could be stronger than me anyway.
Hesitantly, I stood up. Lit another cigarette, just to stall... and I took as long as I dared to take off my jacket.

It's got to call this off.
"Let's make some vivid memories," the voice says matter-of-factly.
"I can't go through this. Again."
"Oh, yes you will. I've been looking forward to this."
I changed tack. "Get somebody who's... gonna be surprised. Please. I've been - I know I'm gonna go insane. Really insane. Don't do this, I'm warning you, I really mean it -"
"Now the shirt, Alexei. Ticklish dude."
"Long? No -"
"Hell, yeah! I've got everything I need. That first time - in that other... storm cellar" - and it laughed softly - "that was just one night. But I -"
"Just one night?"
Hard laughter. "Aw, you're not going to believe how long -"
"No no, aw, help! Please... you can't, I just gotta make you see -"
"If you don't take that shirt off, by the count of three, I'll do it for you."
"Listen to m-me," I said, and my voice was quavering - but I pulled my t-shirt off.
A big sigh. "Lean, and toned. So, so, SO ticklish. Right?"
"Noooooo!"
"It's gonna seem endless, to you." And it laughed - smugly.
"Please stop. Please. No!"
"Shoes, now. Kick 'em off."
"No fuckin' way."
"Then your socks. Barefoot, Alexei. That's how I want you, in here. Uncovered, and held tight."
"Don't do this," I said again, almost wailing.
"It's gonna seem like it'll never end," the voice promised. "Each night."
"Nooooooo!"
"Socks - off. Now."
 
 
 

I take a long drag. Day eleven, or day twelve? I had been trying to get it straight for awhile -
Something moves. The third set of shelves.
I see a big briefcase floating down.
My mouth starts to water, and I don't understand why. There's something I can't quite remember, about the brown leather case, but a calm terror is taking control of me anyway.
The valise lands silently on a side table, clicking open.
"Now, look," I bark. My voice is shaking -
Something dark is being taken out of the case.
Fur.
That sets me off. I pull at the chains like a pit bull.
Recognition is coming now. Keeper is taking more fur out of the briefcase. Shiny, even lustrous. Sinister.
The fur fucks up my thought processes as effectively as any drug.
Now I recognize the tubes. They polish from my ribs to my hips, and neck to belly-button. Another set, curved just right, hugs my armpits. That pair sandwiches my knees. Two for each foot, one surrounding my toes and the other to buff my soles, insteps, heels.
They're fitted and adjusted to cause a level of stimulation that I... can't even stand to think about, much less describe.
The handles remind me of an egg-beater. Not motorized, of course, because Keeper likes to have complete control over how fast the fur spins around. And crawls. Precision.
It's really into that. I still can't get over how deliberate Keeper is. It might show off a little when it's hauling me into a room like this, slamming the door just for fun. Triumphant fucker. The winner. But then it slows down, just too delighted to rush through any little thing. Getting the restraints on me, almost fussing over which gloves to start with, selecting feathers. I guess that shouldn't be a big surprise, if it goes to all the trouble of getting me into these insanely tricked-out cells. Hidden away.
It has all the time in the world, now, and it's definitely enjoying every moment.
I stare at the gears of the tickle-machine it built, vaguely aware I'm finding it hard to breathe. The mechanism gleams - oiled up, well cared for - and start to cackle. Fuck, I'm hysterical already. The fur isn't even touching me yet.
All that work. Custom design... And finally I force myself to stop laughing at its damn machinery, because that's exactly what the contraption was built for.
So many nights when I couldn't even breathe. Surrealistic excitement deep within me, thick and snug.
The chains won't let me go. I long for one to break, and then another. Free. Escaping what Keeper has in store - but it would probably let me get all the way to the door, which is locked safely enough, before it dragged me back down. That quiet chuckle in my ear -
No. Not the fur rollers again. Or anything else. Another endless night, and another...
"Don't do it," I manage to say, panting at the very thought of what the rollers feel like. "Please."
"I can't tell you how happy it makes me... to watch you come unglued," Keeper says.
I shake my head slowly, watching the foot-tools glide down.
"Stop..." But it comes out as a whimper. I am - I was, anyway, once upon a time, years ago - a tough guy. None of that matters anymore.
"You want me to stop."
The fur is still approaching. I moan, unable to get my mouth to work. But I do nod over and over.
"Good," it says happily.
Squirming, I try to think of something that will work. Anything -
"No, you don't, not ever," I babble. Maybe... "Everything's all set. Perfect room, all your tools. Do it, then. It's gonna be unbelievable, isn't it? One for the record books."
The tools pause. "Hey."
"Stick it to me. C'mon, Keeper. Go. Drill my feet. My sides -"
"What are you doing?" It sounds confused now, but I know better than that. Even though I do, it gives me a shred of hope to hold onto.
"Dig in. All over me. No mercy, Keeper. Do it. I wanna howl harder, and longer..."
Oh, fuck, maybe it'll let me go this time. Not the fur rollers, no, get the oil out instead. What the hell am I thinking?
"You want it," Keeper mumbles, "and I was going to -"
I can't stand it! "Don't, aw just lemme go," I wail.
"Let you go?," it chuckles. "I thought you wanted it."
The hinges swing around my soles, snuggling fur down into position.
"Nooooooooooo!"
"Stick it to me. That's what you said. Drill my feet."
I look around, like an idiot, at the other fur. Locked door, thickly padded walls, all those drawers promising way too much fun.
Keeper sighs with contentment. "Now - are you sure you don't want this?"
"No!," I shout. "Yes! Do me! Insane... I can't take any more of this. I can't. Reinvent tickling on my ass. Miserable. Totally... happy."
"Aaaaaww," it mocks.
Slowly, the fur starts to rotate...
 
 
 

Maybe a month, now. Give or take a week...
"You want me to tickle you?," it says, amazed.
"No!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Uh... Alright. Maybe."
"Maybe, what?"
"I do. You're right. Full-bore."
It laughs. "I don't believe you for a minute."
Good, I think to myself. "No. Please - just wait."
"I'm in charge, here."
"Don't you tickle me anymore!"
"Unless?"
"Uh. Unless you... do it right?"
"You're so much fun," Keeper says, making the gloves jump on me again.

29jan2005