Hello, all. Here's another one from newsgroup days, revised and slightly expanded. Hope you enjoy!
Sweet Revenge # 4
TOUGH LOVE
Darla carefully checked the tightness of every knot and then, after taking a moment to admire her handiwork, went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
She was on her third cup when Heather's voice piped up from the bedroom. "Hey! HEY! What's going ON?! What IS this?!"
Darla smiled and sipped her coffee.
"Help!" Heather yelled. "HELP! I can't get LOOSE! Omygod! Omygod PLEASE whoever you are don't HURT me!"
Darla got up from the kitchen table, put her cup in the sink, and ambled back to Heather's bedroom.
Her stepdaughter was squirming and struggling against the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles to the bed rails. "Well, hello there, Heather!" Darla chirruped brightly. "Got a minute for me—or are you all tied up at the moment?"
Heather's blue eyes widened. "YOU did this? Darla, you BITCH, you untie me right NOW!"
Darla shook her head ruefully. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that got you into this position, Heather." She stepped to the foot of the bed and gazed down at the girl's wiggling toes. Heather's ankles were tied together and her feet protruded over the edge of the bed. "That's exactly why your wicked stepmother has finally decided to PUNISH you!"
"Just wait until my DAD finds out!" Heather shrilled. "Just you WAIT, you BITCH!"
Darla moved to the side of the bed. She smiled down at her stepdaughter. "Heather." she said. "Please. This is for your own good—really! You're not a kid any more, darling." Darla's voice hardened. "And frankly, Heather, I'm tired of your shit. It was understandable enough when your father and I got married. After all, you were only ten and I was the evil Other Woman. But you're almost twenty now, dear. It’s time to grow up and face reality."
"FUCK YOU, BITCH!" Heather screamed. “LET ME FUCKING GO!"
"I was afraid you'd react like this." Darla sighed. "You really ought to watch your language, Heather." She knelt down and retrieved the roll of duct tape from its hiding place under the bed. "I find that kind of talk offensive—and besides, we wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors, would we?"
Darla picked up a pair of scissors from the nightstand and cut a length of tape from the roll. Moving quickly, she slapped it over Heather's mouth and pressed it firmly down. "MMMMMMPH!" the girl protested. "GRRRRMMMMPH!!!"
Heather continued to make frantic muffled sounds as Darla returned to the foot of the bed, fished a length of string from the pocket of her robe, and used it to tie the girl's big toes together. Then she tied the free end of the string to the brass bed rail, drawing it just tight enough to completely immobilize Heather's feet. Finally, she stepped back to survey her handiwork.
It was perfect. Heather was on her back, wearing nothing but skimpy red silk panties, with her arms over her head, wrists bound together and secured to the rail at the head of the bed, feet tied to the rail at the foot of the bed. Darla had to admit that her stepdaughter was an attractive girl. Her face, framed by blonde curls, was almost shockingly pretty. Her body had recently lost its last traces of baby fat and was sleekly curved, with firm, ripe, strawberry-tipped breasts and well-shaped limbs. There were fine golden hairs on her arms and thighs.
No one would ever mistake them for mother and daughter, Darla reflected. She herself was slender and leggy, with cropped dark hair, hazel eyes, and bold, almost tomboyish, features. And she was thirty-four—almost fifteen years older than dear Heather—who was about to be taught a lesson she'd NEVER forget—!
Darla returned to the foot of the bed. She licked her lips. Then she stroked down the length of Heather's left foot with a single well-honed fingernail.
"UUUURRRRUUUUMPH!!!" the girl responded, arching her back.
"Have I got your attention, dear?" Darla stroked the girl’s sole again. Heather emitted another gagged squeal and nodded frantically. "Good!” Darla continued. Now, today's lesson is: Displaying proper respect for one's stepmother. Are you going to be a good learner for me, Heather?"
She stroked again to emphasize the question. "GGGGNNNNUUUUGH!!!" Heather grunted. Gooseflesh roughened her left leg.
"From now on, dear, you're going to treat me in a decent and civilized manner." Darla smiled. "Isn't that so?"
Heather didn't nod immediately, so Darla stroked again. And again. And again. She stroked slowly, up and down, still using just a single fingernail. "Isn't that SO?" she repeated.
"GRRRUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather screamed through the tape. "UUURRRNNNGH!!!”
Darla brought up her other hand and applied a fingernail to the sole of the girl's right foot. Heather's curvy derriere bounced up and down on the bed in response to the redoubled tickling sensations. 'UUURRRUUUGH!!!" she grunted desperately. "HMMMMMMPH!!!"
It was working even better than Darla had hoped—she couldn't resist bringing the rest of her fingers into play. And Heather began to make the most extraordinary SOUNDS as eight sharp fingernails probed every square millimeter of her exquisitely tender soles—!
Heather writhed madly in her bonds. The poor girl’s face and the tops of her breasts turned pink—tears streamed from her eyes—the golden hairs on her arms and legs stood up and quivered. Her body jerked and squirmed in a desperate, futile effort to make the horrid tickling STOP—but Darla simply smiled coldly and went right on with her excruciating ministrations. She stroked Heather's defenseless feet for many minutes, until the sounds behind the tape faded to a throaty wheeze and the girl's struggles dwindled to a feeble trembling.
Clearly, Heather needed a break.
Darla pulled the tape away for long enough to allow Heather to draw in several desperate, gasping lungfuls of air. Then she replaced it. Heather’s eyes bulged with desperation. She made a series of sounds that might have constituted a plea for mercy. But Darla just grinned, patted Heather's cheek, and shook her head.
"Sorry, dear," she whispered. "That was just for starters. We're going to continue with your lesson in, oh, shall we say five minutes? Don’t go away, now—I’ll be right back!"
Darla smoked a quick cigarette and returned to the bedroom. Quickly and with a certain eagerness she slipped out of her robe, underneath which she was naked except for lacy black panties. "Ready or not, here I come!" she laughed, climbing onto the bed. Heather moaned behind the tape as Darla knelt astride the girl's knees. The fear in her in her eyes showed that she knew what was coming next.
"That's right, dear." Darla grinned. "We wouldn't want to wear out your pretty little FEET, would we? Especially when there are so many OTHER options to explore."
Heather cringed as Darla leaned forward and placed her fingertips on the girl's sides, just below the underarms. "Let's see if THIS adjusts your attitude, Heather." And with no more ado, she dug in with her nails and wiggled her fingers!
"UUUUNNNNGGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!" the girl howled. Her Cheeks bulged with the effort of forcing gagged screams of laughter past the tape. “WUUUUMMMMPH!!! MMMMUUUUGGGGH!!!” Her torso jerked back and forth in a desperate, doomed attempt to escape Darla’s dancing fingers.
"Can you FEEL anything when I do this?" Darla whispered, shifting her attention to Heather's tender underarms.
The girl was feeling something, all right, if the sounds coming from behind the tape were anything to go by. And Darla realized that SHE was beginning to feel something too—a certain shortness of breath—a tightening of the muscles in her legs and behind—oh, and a hot, humid thrill in her breasts and belly—!
Darla stopped tickling. She licked her lips. She saw that Heather’s strawberry-tinted nipples were stiff with excitement. And yes! Darla realized that her own nipples— the color of coffee with a dash of cream—had hardened also. She looked into Heather's eyes and thought she saw something different there now, something besides fear,
something. . .avid.
First things first, though, though. Before anything else happened, Heather would have to learn who was boss. So, with an avid grin, Darla went to work on her stepdaughter's ribs.
She stroked lightly up and down Heather's sides. The girl's face turned a deeper shade of pink and her cheeks ballooned in an effort to force shrieks of laughter past the tape. A delicate sweat now covered the tops of her jiggling breasts.
Darla leaned back and transferred her attentions to Heather's svelte belly, which rippled in response to the caress of her stepmother’s keen nails. The poor girl trembled violently. "URRRMMMMPH!!!" she grunted when one of Darla's fingers began to probe her navel. "WUUUMMMUUUGH!!!"
“That’s right,” Darla cooed. “You LIKE it when I tickle, Heather, don’t you? And you want me to tickle you MORE, isn’t that right? You want me to tickle you all OVER, don’t you, hmmmm?”
Heather’s response was to arch her back and make passionate noised behind the tape.
Many minutes passed. Darla tickled Heather’s hollows. She tickled Heather’s ribs. She tickled Heather’s belly button. And though she did her level best to keep from transferring her attention to the most inviting targets of all, Darla finally found it impossible to resist the temptation to tickle Heather's deliciously erect nipples—!
"HHHHMMMMUUUUMMMM!!!" moaned Heather as her stepmother rolled one of those nipples between thumb and forefinger. "Feel good?" Darla whispered. "Well, we can't have THAT, can we? This is supposed to be PUNISHMENT, dear!"
So she used her free hand to stroke Heather's underarm, which seemed to drive the poor girl absolutely BUGFUCK! And truth to tell, the whole thing was beginning to make Darla feel a little crazy, too. She was conscious of an urgent desire to be totally naked—oh, the panties she had on seemed so CONFINING—!
All the while, Heather writhed and squirmed, howling into the tape, absolutely red-faced with hilarious agony—but something was different—the girl was trying to TELL Darla something—she was nodding her HEAD—!
Darla reached down and pulled the tape from Heather's mouth.
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!" the girl shrieked. "PLEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEESE! DARLA-HAA-HAA-AAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
Darla understood. She let one hand drift down. Her fingers slipped under the band of Heather's panties. She stroked the girl's bikini line with a delicate fingernail. Heather arched her back. She made a spasmodic—and futile, because her ankles were still bound— effort to part her legs.
Darla probed a bit lower and withdrew a damp finger. "You are a NAUGHTY little girl, Heather!" she said in a scolding tone. "Whatever shall I DO with you?"
"Whatever. . .you. . .want. . ." Heather panted. "Just. . .please. . .keep TOUCHING me that way—!"
"Oh, so you like that, do you?" Darla smiled. "But what's in it for ME Heather, if I go ahead and make you feel all NICE?"
"I'll make you feel nice. . .too," Heather wheezed. "REALLY nice—I promise!"
"And what about your punishment, dear?" Darla arched an eyebrow. "Am I to assume that you've learned your lesson?"
"Yes!" Heather cried. "I have! REALLY I have!"
"Well, perhaps you have at that," Darla admitted. "I'm afraid I have a confession to make, though, Heather."
"What?" the girl quavered.
"I rather ENJOY tickling you, darling." She replaced the tape over Heather's mouth before the girl could protest. "Just another hour or so—you can handle THAT, can't you?"
"UUURRRUUUMMMUUURRRUUUMMMPH!" Heather answered as her wicked, sexy stepmother's fingers attacked her helpless underarms. "MMMUUUNNNGGGHHH!!!"
"Then I'll untie your legs and be so, SO nice to you," Darla breathed. "I promise, Heather."
"GGGRRRUUURRRUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather screamed, writhing with the energy of desperation.
"And after THAT,” Darla added, "maybe you could tie ME up!" She giggled. "After all, it's possible that I’M the one with the attitude problem!"
"WUUUMMMUUUHHHUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather grunted.
"I just want to make sure that our new relationship gets off to the right kind of start," Darla added. “Tough love, dear—sometimes it’s the only way.”
And Heather couldn't help but agree.
Sweet Revenge # 4
TOUGH LOVE
Darla carefully checked the tightness of every knot and then, after taking a moment to admire her handiwork, went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
She was on her third cup when Heather's voice piped up from the bedroom. "Hey! HEY! What's going ON?! What IS this?!"
Darla smiled and sipped her coffee.
"Help!" Heather yelled. "HELP! I can't get LOOSE! Omygod! Omygod PLEASE whoever you are don't HURT me!"
Darla got up from the kitchen table, put her cup in the sink, and ambled back to Heather's bedroom.
Her stepdaughter was squirming and struggling against the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles to the bed rails. "Well, hello there, Heather!" Darla chirruped brightly. "Got a minute for me—or are you all tied up at the moment?"
Heather's blue eyes widened. "YOU did this? Darla, you BITCH, you untie me right NOW!"
Darla shook her head ruefully. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that got you into this position, Heather." She stepped to the foot of the bed and gazed down at the girl's wiggling toes. Heather's ankles were tied together and her feet protruded over the edge of the bed. "That's exactly why your wicked stepmother has finally decided to PUNISH you!"
"Just wait until my DAD finds out!" Heather shrilled. "Just you WAIT, you BITCH!"
Darla moved to the side of the bed. She smiled down at her stepdaughter. "Heather." she said. "Please. This is for your own good—really! You're not a kid any more, darling." Darla's voice hardened. "And frankly, Heather, I'm tired of your shit. It was understandable enough when your father and I got married. After all, you were only ten and I was the evil Other Woman. But you're almost twenty now, dear. It’s time to grow up and face reality."
"FUCK YOU, BITCH!" Heather screamed. “LET ME FUCKING GO!"
"I was afraid you'd react like this." Darla sighed. "You really ought to watch your language, Heather." She knelt down and retrieved the roll of duct tape from its hiding place under the bed. "I find that kind of talk offensive—and besides, we wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors, would we?"
Darla picked up a pair of scissors from the nightstand and cut a length of tape from the roll. Moving quickly, she slapped it over Heather's mouth and pressed it firmly down. "MMMMMMPH!" the girl protested. "GRRRRMMMMPH!!!"
Heather continued to make frantic muffled sounds as Darla returned to the foot of the bed, fished a length of string from the pocket of her robe, and used it to tie the girl's big toes together. Then she tied the free end of the string to the brass bed rail, drawing it just tight enough to completely immobilize Heather's feet. Finally, she stepped back to survey her handiwork.
It was perfect. Heather was on her back, wearing nothing but skimpy red silk panties, with her arms over her head, wrists bound together and secured to the rail at the head of the bed, feet tied to the rail at the foot of the bed. Darla had to admit that her stepdaughter was an attractive girl. Her face, framed by blonde curls, was almost shockingly pretty. Her body had recently lost its last traces of baby fat and was sleekly curved, with firm, ripe, strawberry-tipped breasts and well-shaped limbs. There were fine golden hairs on her arms and thighs.
No one would ever mistake them for mother and daughter, Darla reflected. She herself was slender and leggy, with cropped dark hair, hazel eyes, and bold, almost tomboyish, features. And she was thirty-four—almost fifteen years older than dear Heather—who was about to be taught a lesson she'd NEVER forget—!
Darla returned to the foot of the bed. She licked her lips. Then she stroked down the length of Heather's left foot with a single well-honed fingernail.
"UUUURRRRUUUUMPH!!!" the girl responded, arching her back.
"Have I got your attention, dear?" Darla stroked the girl’s sole again. Heather emitted another gagged squeal and nodded frantically. "Good!” Darla continued. Now, today's lesson is: Displaying proper respect for one's stepmother. Are you going to be a good learner for me, Heather?"
She stroked again to emphasize the question. "GGGGNNNNUUUUGH!!!" Heather grunted. Gooseflesh roughened her left leg.
"From now on, dear, you're going to treat me in a decent and civilized manner." Darla smiled. "Isn't that so?"
Heather didn't nod immediately, so Darla stroked again. And again. And again. She stroked slowly, up and down, still using just a single fingernail. "Isn't that SO?" she repeated.
"GRRRUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather screamed through the tape. "UUURRRNNNGH!!!”
Darla brought up her other hand and applied a fingernail to the sole of the girl's right foot. Heather's curvy derriere bounced up and down on the bed in response to the redoubled tickling sensations. 'UUURRRUUUGH!!!" she grunted desperately. "HMMMMMMPH!!!"
It was working even better than Darla had hoped—she couldn't resist bringing the rest of her fingers into play. And Heather began to make the most extraordinary SOUNDS as eight sharp fingernails probed every square millimeter of her exquisitely tender soles—!
Heather writhed madly in her bonds. The poor girl’s face and the tops of her breasts turned pink—tears streamed from her eyes—the golden hairs on her arms and legs stood up and quivered. Her body jerked and squirmed in a desperate, futile effort to make the horrid tickling STOP—but Darla simply smiled coldly and went right on with her excruciating ministrations. She stroked Heather's defenseless feet for many minutes, until the sounds behind the tape faded to a throaty wheeze and the girl's struggles dwindled to a feeble trembling.
Clearly, Heather needed a break.
Darla pulled the tape away for long enough to allow Heather to draw in several desperate, gasping lungfuls of air. Then she replaced it. Heather’s eyes bulged with desperation. She made a series of sounds that might have constituted a plea for mercy. But Darla just grinned, patted Heather's cheek, and shook her head.
"Sorry, dear," she whispered. "That was just for starters. We're going to continue with your lesson in, oh, shall we say five minutes? Don’t go away, now—I’ll be right back!"
Darla smoked a quick cigarette and returned to the bedroom. Quickly and with a certain eagerness she slipped out of her robe, underneath which she was naked except for lacy black panties. "Ready or not, here I come!" she laughed, climbing onto the bed. Heather moaned behind the tape as Darla knelt astride the girl's knees. The fear in her in her eyes showed that she knew what was coming next.
"That's right, dear." Darla grinned. "We wouldn't want to wear out your pretty little FEET, would we? Especially when there are so many OTHER options to explore."
Heather cringed as Darla leaned forward and placed her fingertips on the girl's sides, just below the underarms. "Let's see if THIS adjusts your attitude, Heather." And with no more ado, she dug in with her nails and wiggled her fingers!
"UUUUNNNNGGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!" the girl howled. Her Cheeks bulged with the effort of forcing gagged screams of laughter past the tape. “WUUUUMMMMPH!!! MMMMUUUUGGGGH!!!” Her torso jerked back and forth in a desperate, doomed attempt to escape Darla’s dancing fingers.
"Can you FEEL anything when I do this?" Darla whispered, shifting her attention to Heather's tender underarms.
The girl was feeling something, all right, if the sounds coming from behind the tape were anything to go by. And Darla realized that SHE was beginning to feel something too—a certain shortness of breath—a tightening of the muscles in her legs and behind—oh, and a hot, humid thrill in her breasts and belly—!
Darla stopped tickling. She licked her lips. She saw that Heather’s strawberry-tinted nipples were stiff with excitement. And yes! Darla realized that her own nipples— the color of coffee with a dash of cream—had hardened also. She looked into Heather's eyes and thought she saw something different there now, something besides fear,
something. . .avid.
First things first, though, though. Before anything else happened, Heather would have to learn who was boss. So, with an avid grin, Darla went to work on her stepdaughter's ribs.
She stroked lightly up and down Heather's sides. The girl's face turned a deeper shade of pink and her cheeks ballooned in an effort to force shrieks of laughter past the tape. A delicate sweat now covered the tops of her jiggling breasts.
Darla leaned back and transferred her attentions to Heather's svelte belly, which rippled in response to the caress of her stepmother’s keen nails. The poor girl trembled violently. "URRRMMMMPH!!!" she grunted when one of Darla's fingers began to probe her navel. "WUUUMMMUUUGH!!!"
“That’s right,” Darla cooed. “You LIKE it when I tickle, Heather, don’t you? And you want me to tickle you MORE, isn’t that right? You want me to tickle you all OVER, don’t you, hmmmm?”
Heather’s response was to arch her back and make passionate noised behind the tape.
Many minutes passed. Darla tickled Heather’s hollows. She tickled Heather’s ribs. She tickled Heather’s belly button. And though she did her level best to keep from transferring her attention to the most inviting targets of all, Darla finally found it impossible to resist the temptation to tickle Heather's deliciously erect nipples—!
"HHHHMMMMUUUUMMMM!!!" moaned Heather as her stepmother rolled one of those nipples between thumb and forefinger. "Feel good?" Darla whispered. "Well, we can't have THAT, can we? This is supposed to be PUNISHMENT, dear!"
So she used her free hand to stroke Heather's underarm, which seemed to drive the poor girl absolutely BUGFUCK! And truth to tell, the whole thing was beginning to make Darla feel a little crazy, too. She was conscious of an urgent desire to be totally naked—oh, the panties she had on seemed so CONFINING—!
All the while, Heather writhed and squirmed, howling into the tape, absolutely red-faced with hilarious agony—but something was different—the girl was trying to TELL Darla something—she was nodding her HEAD—!
Darla reached down and pulled the tape from Heather's mouth.
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!" the girl shrieked. "PLEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEESE! DARLA-HAA-HAA-AAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
Darla understood. She let one hand drift down. Her fingers slipped under the band of Heather's panties. She stroked the girl's bikini line with a delicate fingernail. Heather arched her back. She made a spasmodic—and futile, because her ankles were still bound— effort to part her legs.
Darla probed a bit lower and withdrew a damp finger. "You are a NAUGHTY little girl, Heather!" she said in a scolding tone. "Whatever shall I DO with you?"
"Whatever. . .you. . .want. . ." Heather panted. "Just. . .please. . .keep TOUCHING me that way—!"
"Oh, so you like that, do you?" Darla smiled. "But what's in it for ME Heather, if I go ahead and make you feel all NICE?"
"I'll make you feel nice. . .too," Heather wheezed. "REALLY nice—I promise!"
"And what about your punishment, dear?" Darla arched an eyebrow. "Am I to assume that you've learned your lesson?"
"Yes!" Heather cried. "I have! REALLY I have!"
"Well, perhaps you have at that," Darla admitted. "I'm afraid I have a confession to make, though, Heather."
"What?" the girl quavered.
"I rather ENJOY tickling you, darling." She replaced the tape over Heather's mouth before the girl could protest. "Just another hour or so—you can handle THAT, can't you?"
"UUURRRUUUMMMUUURRRUUUMMMPH!" Heather answered as her wicked, sexy stepmother's fingers attacked her helpless underarms. "MMMUUUNNNGGGHHH!!!"
"Then I'll untie your legs and be so, SO nice to you," Darla breathed. "I promise, Heather."
"GGGRRRUUURRRUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather screamed, writhing with the energy of desperation.
"And after THAT,” Darla added, "maybe you could tie ME up!" She giggled. "After all, it's possible that I’M the one with the attitude problem!"
"WUUUMMMUUUHHHUUUMMMPH!!!" Heather grunted.
"I just want to make sure that our new relationship gets off to the right kind of start," Darla added. “Tough love, dear—sometimes it’s the only way.”
And Heather couldn't help but agree.
