BellybTickler
4th Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- May 2, 2002
- Messages
- 2,962
- Points
- 36
*Here's the second and final part, hope you enjoy 
*
John collapsed against the two guards as they undid his bonds. When he collected his bearings he was already confined within the stocks. A sadistic position for him to be in, the device had him on his knees with his arms stretched firmly above his head. His feet, were trapped in a set of wooden stocks behind him. Once secured, Weber placed a blindfold across John’s face.
“Hahaha try escaping from vis one,” he taunted. With that he threw a jab into John’s ribs. John jolted, gasping and coughing violently. The two laughed as they exited.
“Is he set?” her familiar voice asked.
“Ya voul Frauline Schneider!” Weber replied.
“Danke”.
The door creaked open once again, and the looming sound of footsteps became louder as she edged her way to his location. John picked his head up and whirled it back and forth, trying to determine where she was. Suddenly he felt her nail slowly begin to scrape up his left foot. John tensed up immediately, gritting his teeth in an effort to resist.
“Private O’Bryan, you know that resistance is futile?” she laughed.
“hrrmpphh,” he grunted, still trying to hold it in.
“Yes, that is what the French thought as well,” she replied as she continued to draw circles on his foot. John twisted, pull, bounced, and grunted. He tried everything he could to keep himself from laughing.
“So, shall we get started?” she asked, “what is your unit, where is your unit, and what are your unit’s operation orders?”
“hehehe notnot telling you shit!” John yelled.
“Really? I highly doubt that!” she said and with that she blitzkreiged into John’s soles, scribbling all over his highly sensitive feet. Any and all form of resistance went to shambles as John arched forward, screaming.
“HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHANNOOOHAHAHAOAOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSTTTOOHHAHAHAHAAAAOOOPAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”
“The information!” she demanded.
“PRIPRIPRIVAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHATEEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHAOOOBRYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAANNNAHHJJAAAHAHAHAHAOHNNN!”
“You insolent bastard! Tell me goddamnit!” she screamed out. Speaking was not a not of John’s, not that he didn’t want to, but that he couldn’t. After about ten minutes she stopped and stepped back. John, head drooped forward, gasped for breath, his chest heaving in and out.
“This is going to be really hard for you now, you know that?” she said.
“Go to hell!” John muttered. She moved around to the front and dug into his thighs. John jolted upwards, roaring with laughter.
“HAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!”
“It can all end; just tell me what I want to know”.
“HAHHAHAHAHHANNOOOHAHAHAHOHHHAHAHAHA!”
“Alright then,” she said, hopping up onto the table and pianoing his sides up and down. She then shot down to his hips, digging her two thumbs into his pelvic muscles.
“AAAHHHAHAHHAHHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHAHAHA!”
“Come on, come on, I know you want to hahaha!” she laughed. Fifteen minutes in, she was finding that she herself was starting to sweat and grow tired. She put her arms down for a break; John continued to giggle for few minutes until he finally ceased, collapsing against his bonds.
“Had enough, Private O’Bryan?” she asked. John grunted, too weak to even talk, “Well, I’ll let you rest for a few minutes, you’re going to need it young man,” she said, hopping off the table. As she walked by him, she slapped his ass, causing him to buck forward and yelp in mild pain.
“I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere,” she laughed as she left the room.
ESCAPE. The one and only thing on John’s mind, he couldn’t take this for much longer, and he had a feeling she knew it as well. He tugged and strained at the chains holding his wrists, maybe he could squeeze through. He sighed, no luck there. He tried his feet, no luck either; they were snuggly confined inside the stocks. Maybe, during the torture, if he bucked hard enough, he could break free? That would mean dealing with the tickling and potentially giving away the information that she wanted. GAH! If only he could get this infernal blindfold off his face that would at least be a start. The door opened.
“Did you miss me?” she called out. She made her way to John’s spot. Something was off, her footsteps didn’t match up, there seemed to be another pair or something. He suddenly felt something wet being poured on his feet.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Well, if you must know I’m pouring honey on your feet”.
“Now why would you do that?!” he asked.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH
John’s head shot upright.
“No, noooooo!” he screamed.
“Private O’Bryan, meet Ereman,” she said, “He was some farmer’s prize goat, but alas, he’s now my instrument of pure, delicious torture!”
“Please don’t, don’t, don’t, DON’T!” John pleaded.
“Information,” she replied. John screamed in frustration.
“WHY CAN’T YOU ASK ME ABOUT MY HOME, OR MY FAMILY, OR STUPID SHIT I DID AS A KID!?” he cried.
“Now how does that have any relevance to what I need?” she asked.
“I don’t knooohohohohow,” John sobbed.
“Oh well,” she said, “Come here Ereman”. The goat wandered over to her voice. Once it picked up the scent of the honey he immediately made his way to John’s wriggling feet. Ereman gave them a quick sniff and dove straight in, dragging his tongue rapidly across John’s foot.
“GAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Hehehe,” she giggled, “Oh Ereman, you little silly”.
“HAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAGETGETGETHIMMMMOFOFFFFFHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
She moved around to his front and hopped on the table.
“All you have to do is tell me what I want to know,” she cooed, “and it’ll all be over”. With that, she dug into his ribs, sending John into a screaming fit. Traveling to his armpits, she danced her fingers up and down his arms, around his neck, back down to his stomach; making sure to dig hard into his hips. John had now been driven into silent laughter. Between the goat’s unbearable tongue licking in between his toes and her fingers ripping at his hyper-ticklish torso, he was loosing his mind.
An hour later he screamed for mercy; she got off the table and removed the goat from his feet.
“You want to tell me something?” she asked.
“Ye-ye-yes,” he gasped.
“Gooood,” she smiled. John opened his mouth, but stopped, what was he doing? Was he really going to sell his friends, the guys he had called his family for the past two years, out?
“You were saying, John?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he looked at her and haucked a lugie straight into her face. She screamed in anger and slapped him across the face. John laughed, it felt good to be the own cause of his laughter. She wiped the saliva from her face, and to his surprise smiled.
“Happy yet general?” she said to the ceiling.
“Yes Captain Schneider, I’m satisfied,” a voice from no where sounded off.
“Wha-What’s going on?” John asked.
“Well Private O’Bryan, you’ve been part of an experiment that the US Army has been recently conducting,” she replied.
“WHAT!?” John screamed.
“Allow me to clarify soldier,” the overhead voice chimed in, “We knew the Nazi’s practiced forms of pain torture, but weren’t certain whether tickle torture was a common practice; we didn’t know what effect it would have on our troops, so we need to test, ya did good son”.
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” John cried.
“Private O’Bryan, you are talking to a superior officer, and you WILL act accordingly!” the voice boomed.
“GO TO HELL!” John answered.
“Captain Schneider! Deal with this please!” the voice demanded as it clicked off.
“Yes Sir,” she said with a smile, turning to Ereman, “Are you still hungry Ereman? Well here’s some nice footsies for you”. She poured the rest of the honey on John’s feet.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? LET ME GO!” John demanded.
“Hahaha, in time,” she said, “enjoy Ereman”. She left as the goat plunged into John’s sensitive soles. She could hear his wild laughter echo as she strutted down the hallway and smiled.
*John collapsed against the two guards as they undid his bonds. When he collected his bearings he was already confined within the stocks. A sadistic position for him to be in, the device had him on his knees with his arms stretched firmly above his head. His feet, were trapped in a set of wooden stocks behind him. Once secured, Weber placed a blindfold across John’s face.
“Hahaha try escaping from vis one,” he taunted. With that he threw a jab into John’s ribs. John jolted, gasping and coughing violently. The two laughed as they exited.
“Is he set?” her familiar voice asked.
“Ya voul Frauline Schneider!” Weber replied.
“Danke”.
The door creaked open once again, and the looming sound of footsteps became louder as she edged her way to his location. John picked his head up and whirled it back and forth, trying to determine where she was. Suddenly he felt her nail slowly begin to scrape up his left foot. John tensed up immediately, gritting his teeth in an effort to resist.
“Private O’Bryan, you know that resistance is futile?” she laughed.
“hrrmpphh,” he grunted, still trying to hold it in.
“Yes, that is what the French thought as well,” she replied as she continued to draw circles on his foot. John twisted, pull, bounced, and grunted. He tried everything he could to keep himself from laughing.
“So, shall we get started?” she asked, “what is your unit, where is your unit, and what are your unit’s operation orders?”
“hehehe notnot telling you shit!” John yelled.
“Really? I highly doubt that!” she said and with that she blitzkreiged into John’s soles, scribbling all over his highly sensitive feet. Any and all form of resistance went to shambles as John arched forward, screaming.
“HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHANNOOOHAHAHAOAOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSTTTOOHHAHAHAHAAAAOOOPAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”
“The information!” she demanded.
“PRIPRIPRIVAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHATEEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHAOOOBRYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAANNNAHHJJAAAHAHAHAHAOHNNN!”
“You insolent bastard! Tell me goddamnit!” she screamed out. Speaking was not a not of John’s, not that he didn’t want to, but that he couldn’t. After about ten minutes she stopped and stepped back. John, head drooped forward, gasped for breath, his chest heaving in and out.
“This is going to be really hard for you now, you know that?” she said.
“Go to hell!” John muttered. She moved around to the front and dug into his thighs. John jolted upwards, roaring with laughter.
“HAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!”
“It can all end; just tell me what I want to know”.
“HAHHAHAHAHHANNOOOHAHAHAHOHHHAHAHAHA!”
“Alright then,” she said, hopping up onto the table and pianoing his sides up and down. She then shot down to his hips, digging her two thumbs into his pelvic muscles.
“AAAHHHAHAHHAHHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHAHAHA!”
“Come on, come on, I know you want to hahaha!” she laughed. Fifteen minutes in, she was finding that she herself was starting to sweat and grow tired. She put her arms down for a break; John continued to giggle for few minutes until he finally ceased, collapsing against his bonds.
“Had enough, Private O’Bryan?” she asked. John grunted, too weak to even talk, “Well, I’ll let you rest for a few minutes, you’re going to need it young man,” she said, hopping off the table. As she walked by him, she slapped his ass, causing him to buck forward and yelp in mild pain.
“I’ll be right back, don’t you go anywhere,” she laughed as she left the room.
ESCAPE. The one and only thing on John’s mind, he couldn’t take this for much longer, and he had a feeling she knew it as well. He tugged and strained at the chains holding his wrists, maybe he could squeeze through. He sighed, no luck there. He tried his feet, no luck either; they were snuggly confined inside the stocks. Maybe, during the torture, if he bucked hard enough, he could break free? That would mean dealing with the tickling and potentially giving away the information that she wanted. GAH! If only he could get this infernal blindfold off his face that would at least be a start. The door opened.
“Did you miss me?” she called out. She made her way to John’s spot. Something was off, her footsteps didn’t match up, there seemed to be another pair or something. He suddenly felt something wet being poured on his feet.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Well, if you must know I’m pouring honey on your feet”.
“Now why would you do that?!” he asked.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH
John’s head shot upright.
“No, noooooo!” he screamed.
“Private O’Bryan, meet Ereman,” she said, “He was some farmer’s prize goat, but alas, he’s now my instrument of pure, delicious torture!”
“Please don’t, don’t, don’t, DON’T!” John pleaded.
“Information,” she replied. John screamed in frustration.
“WHY CAN’T YOU ASK ME ABOUT MY HOME, OR MY FAMILY, OR STUPID SHIT I DID AS A KID!?” he cried.
“Now how does that have any relevance to what I need?” she asked.
“I don’t knooohohohohow,” John sobbed.
“Oh well,” she said, “Come here Ereman”. The goat wandered over to her voice. Once it picked up the scent of the honey he immediately made his way to John’s wriggling feet. Ereman gave them a quick sniff and dove straight in, dragging his tongue rapidly across John’s foot.
“GAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Hehehe,” she giggled, “Oh Ereman, you little silly”.
“HAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAGETGETGETHIMMMMOFOFFFFFHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
She moved around to his front and hopped on the table.
“All you have to do is tell me what I want to know,” she cooed, “and it’ll all be over”. With that, she dug into his ribs, sending John into a screaming fit. Traveling to his armpits, she danced her fingers up and down his arms, around his neck, back down to his stomach; making sure to dig hard into his hips. John had now been driven into silent laughter. Between the goat’s unbearable tongue licking in between his toes and her fingers ripping at his hyper-ticklish torso, he was loosing his mind.
An hour later he screamed for mercy; she got off the table and removed the goat from his feet.
“You want to tell me something?” she asked.
“Ye-ye-yes,” he gasped.
“Gooood,” she smiled. John opened his mouth, but stopped, what was he doing? Was he really going to sell his friends, the guys he had called his family for the past two years, out?
“You were saying, John?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he looked at her and haucked a lugie straight into her face. She screamed in anger and slapped him across the face. John laughed, it felt good to be the own cause of his laughter. She wiped the saliva from her face, and to his surprise smiled.
“Happy yet general?” she said to the ceiling.
“Yes Captain Schneider, I’m satisfied,” a voice from no where sounded off.
“Wha-What’s going on?” John asked.
“Well Private O’Bryan, you’ve been part of an experiment that the US Army has been recently conducting,” she replied.
“WHAT!?” John screamed.
“Allow me to clarify soldier,” the overhead voice chimed in, “We knew the Nazi’s practiced forms of pain torture, but weren’t certain whether tickle torture was a common practice; we didn’t know what effect it would have on our troops, so we need to test, ya did good son”.
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” John cried.
“Private O’Bryan, you are talking to a superior officer, and you WILL act accordingly!” the voice boomed.
“GO TO HELL!” John answered.
“Captain Schneider! Deal with this please!” the voice demanded as it clicked off.
“Yes Sir,” she said with a smile, turning to Ereman, “Are you still hungry Ereman? Well here’s some nice footsies for you”. She poured the rest of the honey on John’s feet.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? LET ME GO!” John demanded.
“Hahaha, in time,” she said, “enjoy Ereman”. She left as the goat plunged into John’s sensitive soles. She could hear his wild laughter echo as she strutted down the hallway and smiled.
Thanks
