Then It Gets Worse

You're nearly unconscious, almost out of breath when suddenly the assault ends. The guard in front of you stands up, and you gasp hungrily at the rush of cool, fresh air. The zipties on your wrists come off with a snap and your body goes limp.

Much faster than you're able to react though, you're forced onto your back. The guards easily maneuver you out of every last stitch of clothing but you've only got the energy to remain conscious.

Now naked, the guards reapply zipties, cinching your ankles and your wrists in front of you, they drag you roughly over to the cart. Once there, they hoist you onto the hood, anchoring your bound wrists and ankles to somewhere within the wheel wells on either side of the vehicle.

You stare up groggily at the two guards who smile evilly back. You're laid out on your back, on the hood of the cart, your legs bent at the knee, and your arms bent back over your head. You glance down at your naked body and blush, groaning weakly. You know what's coming but there's nothing you can do.

The guard that overpowered you goes to work on your feet, even more sensitive to the assault after the previous tickling. You giggle and squeal mindlessly. The second guard concentrates on your upper body, flicking playfully at your nipples between ticklish attacks on your stomach, ribs, and underarms.

A sheen of sweat covers your body, making the guards attacks even more fluid and ticklish. Humorous squeaks as your body jerks fitfully on the aluminum hood punctuate long peels of tortured laughter.

The first guard moves slowly up your legs while their partner works slowly down your chest. They both meet up between your legs. Your head swims, tickled nearly to madness!