Narrator POV
The thunder shakes the house all around, and rattles the windows, as the lightning flashes over and over again, now, all over Jaime's body, on his bed.
There are thousands of tiny bodies moving about in his bedroom, all over his bedroom, the floor, the bed, the shelves, the dresser drawers...there are thousands more coming out of the now opened closet. As the wind picks up even more outside, the noise inside Jaime's room becomes even more loud now, except it's in tiny tones of endless squeaking, all around his room! There is now constant tiny growling and tiny laughing, alongside tiny conversations in more pleasant tones.
However, something has changed now, as before Jaime was spread about his unmade bed, sound asleep, and snoring softly, within the rattling thunder and the pounding noise of the pouring rain outside...now his body is pretty much in the same position as before...except now he has both of his wrists tied, together above his head to one of the five wooden-small polls in the middle of his headboard...the center-fifth one.
His feet, at the end of the bed are also tied together by the ankles to the footboard, to one of the small wooden polls in there as well, the center-fifth one too...crossed at the ankles, just like they were when he fell asleep...the right foot on top of the left one.
The only difference is now, both of Jaime's feet are bare, no white tube socks and no chucks either, just Jaime's size ten, tan-yellowish bare feet tied together by the ankles, crossed together at the ankles, the right one on top of the left one...tied to that small fifth-center poll, through the footboard with lots and lots of tiny, miniature ropes. However, in addition to having his feet bare and tied, crossed at the ankles through the center of the footboard...all of his ten toes have been roped-tied individually, one by one with lots of this same tiny rope...back and onto the same fifth-center poll his ankles are now tied on to, crossed at the ankles.
So now Jaime just squirms a bit, tied down onto his bed, with his cloths still on, he is still wearing his black, leather jacket too. Now his black chucks (chuck taylors) are on the floor, near the foot of his bed.
As Jaime tried to squirm some more, and struggle too, he tries to speak a few times, but quickly finds out he can't anymore. He isn't aware of this yet, but he has both of his dirty, sweaty and stinky, white tube socks balled-up and shoved into his mouth, and tightly roped in with more and more of that tiny, miniature rope, he seems to have all over his wrists and ankles.
"Mmnmfgogghmfoghgmogm..." Jaime muffles a few protests of discontent from where he is, at the top of his bed, but nothing can actually be heard clearly, as it is muffled-up by his stinky, sweaty socks, jammed right into his mouth, tightly, and kept there by those tiny ropes.
As Jaime continues to struggle a bit more...over his bed, a tiny creature, from a crowed surrounding both of his bare, tan-feet at the foot of the bed, steps forward. It stands right next to Jaime's left, bare, tan foot, now tied onto the wooden-railing poll by the ankle...with all it's five toes tied onto the same wooden-railing poll (arching all of them up and backward against the wooden-railing poll). The tiny creature gets even closer to Jaime's left, bare-tan foot, and then begins to caress it with its little, tiny hands...all over! It traces its tiny paws and tiny fingers all over Jaime's bare-tan, soft sole and toes. Jaime's toes try to wiggle against the sudden intrusion bestowed upon them...by this tiny creature, exploring his tan, soft, sole and toes all over with it's miniature palms and fingers, but there is no way the toes can crunch themselves inward, and try to shield the exposed sole...as all five toes are roped-tight to the wooden-railing poll.
The tiny creature takes a few more moments to caress Jaime's left sole and toes, then moves on to the right foot and does the same...tracing the entire sole and tied toes with his tiny palms and fingers, over and over again. After the forced exploration, the tiny creature goes on to sniff both soles and toes...one first, then the other, as both of Jaime's bare, tan-toe-tied, railing-poll-tied feet keep trying, unsuccessfully to pull away from the wooden-railing poll they're both tied to...as well as all his ten toes...but nothing can be done, as Jaime's feet remain firmly tied, and still, in place for the strange 'inspection' both are going through at the moment. Finally, the tiny creature, which seems to be the leader of the group, takes a couple of licks of both of Jaime's soles, then some of the tied toes, and then slowly walks away from Jaime's bare-tan feet, signaling with his tiny right hand to the others...as if giving a gesture to 'commence'.
At that moment, a couple of tiny creatures, from each side of Jaime's bare feet, close in on them. Two of them climb the footboard, and the other two step right next to each one of his soles from the side...as both of his feet are sticking out of the footboard, through the wooden-railing poll design of the footboard. The tiny creatures on the top of the footboard, over by Jaime's toes, have tiny wash-cloths and tiny brushes, they are holding tiny buckets with what sounds like some kind of liquid inside...the other two have the same tiny wash-cloths and brushes as well as tiny buckets, and all four, looks like...are getting ready to start with what they've got planned for Jaime's bare-tan, soft, toe-tied feet.
Jaime's POV
"I hear the damn barking of that storm outside my windows, flappin' up with that wind and rain and I try to move from my bed, but I'm stuck...I'm stuck to my flippin bed in here!
I try to move some more, but me moving ain't happenin now, don't know whats up in here, as the feelin starts coming back to all of me, and I start to feel my arms raised up, above me, and I can't see them, then I feel my feet down there, at the foot of my damn bed, stuck to something there too! I ain't moving nothing, nothing at all, my whole body feels like in casts or something...as I ain't got the slightest idea what casts feel like, but all I know I'm stuck here, on my bed.
"Mnmfgorghfdmrghoghfmoghfdm..." I try to say something, anything but that ain't going on either here, I ain't speaking, nothing. I hear mufflin, lots and lots of mufflin...mufflin like that day at the showers with that square 'Marcos'...when we got'em all trussed up and socked-gagged tight with Cornejo's stink socks.
"Mnmgnmoggmfohgnm..." I think back to that, and I realize I got somehow trussed-up here, in my bed too, all tight to it, and I can now feel them ropes around my mouth, holding something in my mouth too. I got trussed up, here in my room...how?!?!
I ain't thinking straight...cause there ain't no way I got trussed-up here in my room, all by myself, there can't be anyway to that, is there...how!?!?
Then...I feel them crawling things all over me, all over my shirt, and all over my jeans too! I get to see some shadow things too, as the lightning flashes into my room from time to time, but nothing clearly, just looks like tiny things running about me, lots and lots of tiny things all over me!
Finally, I get this feelin, down there where my feet...it feels like my feet are gettin poked and touched-up, all over! Wait...if my feet are gettin poked and touched, then it means my smacking feet ain't got no chucks no more, an my tube socks...where are my tube socks now?!?!
My feet feel a bit breezy too, then the poking and touching starts harder on'em, and more touchin and more poking...until finally, it starts as scrubbing, up and down...there is damn scrubbing and what feels like some brushing on'em with something cloth-like too! As I keep feelin' my damn feet gettin' scrubbed-on and brushed-on...I feel'em soakin' a quite bit too, MY BARED FEET ARE GETTIN' SOAKED-UP DOWN THERE!!!!!! Why my feet are feelin' soaked, like with water or something, I try to make some sense of it, in my trussed-up position, up on my bed, but I ain't coming up with nothing here!
"MNMFGORTGHMNOGHMNMGHFOGMNRNM..." I can't hold-on to myself no more cause I got the most serious tickles all over my damn feet, all over my damn toes and my soles...my toes feel like I can't move'em neither...cause they feel tied to something, maybe could be my footboard...one of them small poles in there, my feet are tied through them small polls in my footboard, and my toes are too! And now, my feet are bared and getting the scrubbin and the brushing of a life-time!
The tickles on my soles and toes intensify some more from the scrubbin and brushing, as I get it up and down my entire soles, and all up and between all my toes too. I try squirmin more and more, and struggling more too, but I ain't getting free from whatever this could be, tying me up to my bed right now. My squirmin self just stays put, al trussed-up to this damn bed here, in this storm, with my bared feet gettin scrubbed up all over them soles and toes and getting brushed up too...sending these massive tickles all up on my bared up feet, making my whole body buck up and down up on my bed, again and again..."MNMEGROEGHREOGHMEROFGDMDHROMN..."!
YOU ARE READING
Sort'a Stuck
HorrorThe rain is pounding into the night, as Alberto struggles to open his eyes from a deep sleep, which seems has been abruptly interrupted by a strange feeling on his muscles. As the flashes of lightning break through his bedroom window, and the shake...
