A Small Circle of Friends Chapter Two (F/F Intense)

By a coincidence that was perhaps not too surprising given the nature of the regime that now ruled over Unknown University, Janice Adams wasn’t the only one facing the terrors of terminal tickling torment that afternoon.

“What do you think you’re DOING?!” Sandy Vernon cried. “Let me GO, you BITCH!”

Dagmar Frost chuckled and shook her head. “That’s a pretty snotty attitude on your part, young lady. Considering your position, I mean.”

“Dean Stanley will FIX you!” Sandy yelled. “Just you WAIT!”

Dagmar sighed and smiled. “Sandy, Sandy, Sandy!” she scolded. “The boss is out of town, remember? She won’t be back for a week. Which leaves us PLENTY of time for fun and games!”

Dressed in her short-skirted maid’s uniform, Dagmar gazed down at her prisoner. Sandy was naked on her back, stretched out on a padded table. Her ankles were strapped together at one end; her wrists at the other. The svelte servant drank in the sight of Sandy’s corn-colored hair, beautiful face, perfectly shaped breasts, trim waist, taut belly, long legs and exquisitely formed feet with pink-painted toenails. It was like having a multi-course gourmet dinner laid out for one’s enjoyment…

For Dagmar, such precious moments had been few and far between after her humiliating fall from power. Since then she had labored as a menial domestic in Margaret Stanley’s employ, forced to wear this ridiculous maid’s uniform (which did show off her trim legs and figure to excellent advantage) and suffer the indignities of serving at the beck and call of a woman she once thought she’d ruined.

What made it worse for Dagmar was her obsessive attraction to Margaret Stanley. The buxom brunette starred in her late-night masturbation fantasies, haunted her dreams, and distracted her days. Deep in her heart, the svelte servant craved the position enjoyed by those fortunate few who formed Margaret’s inner circle—such as Janice Adams, Dagmar's treacherous former secretary, now Margaret Stanley’s most trusted confidential assistant.

Gradually, however, as the shock of her downfall wore off, the old cunning that had once taken Dagmar to the heights of power reasserted itself. The svelte servant began plotting ways and means of improving her situation. To depose Margaret was, of course, unthinkable. But it might be possible to eliminate the competition. And as a tasty little bonus, Dagmar would at long last savor the delicious pleasures of revenge…

Thoughts of revenge were never very far from svelte servant’s mind. She dreamed of having Janice Adams at her mercy in repayment for the sexy secretary’s treason. She teased herself with daydreams of payback for all the slights and insults she’s received from tarts and strumpets like Sandy Vernon. But such delights had hardly seemed possible, given Dagmar’s subservient position.

But now Dagmar’s luck was on the change. For she had she acquired an ally.

The agreement between Dagmar and her secret friend was a simple one. As the buxom brunette’s housemaid, the svelte servant was well situated to keep tabs on the activities of Margaret Stanley’s favored inner circle. In exchange for such tidbits of confidential information that she passed on, Dagmar would be afforded an opportunity to consummate the revenge she craved.

So the svelte servant watched, listened and waited. And finally her patience was rewarded with a hint that Sandy Vernon was seeing someone on the side.

“Excellent!” her secret friend exclaimed. “Just what I needed! Now, Dagmar, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Sandy’s indiscretion, if disclosed, would be more than sufficient to result in her ignominious ejection from the brunette’s inner circle. For though Margaret looked indulgently upon dalliances between and among her intimates, even encouraging them in some cases, she had an ironclad rule against unsanctioned relationships with outsiders. The security of her position depended upon discipline and secrecy. It simply would not do for someone in the know—someone like Sandy Vernon, for instance—to take up with an unauthorized person. For who knew what words might be let slip in the throes of ticklish passion…?

Thus for Dagmar and her secret friend to encompass Sandy’s ruin, it would only be necessary to learn the particulars of the long-legged vixen’s illicit affair. And how better to obtain that information than from the luscious lips of the two-timing tramp herself? It was an ironic fact that the svelte servant was genuinely indignant on Margaret’s behalf. She considered it positively outrageous that anyone would DARE to cheat on the buxom brunette—!

“Well,” said her secret friend, “I leave the details to you, darling. I’m sure that you’ll think of SOME way to squeeze the required information out of Little Miss Sandy.”

Dagmar soon perfected her plan. And it proved an easy matter to lure the long-legged vixen into the trap she’d prepared. A trip to the basement on some pretext, followed by the quick administration of a knockout drug, took care of that detail. And Margaret Stanley’s basement was admirably equipped for the interrogation that Dagmar had in mind…

And now, where to begin? The svelte servant’s eyes kept straying to Sandy’s bare, wiggling feet. Dagmar stepped to the end of the table and perched herself on a stool. Her face was now level with the long-legged vixen’s tender soles.

“What are you going to DO?!” Sandy shrilled. She thrashed and bucked in a futile attempt to slip her bonds. “Wait! WAIT! Just tell me what you WANT—!”

“In good time, young lady, all in good time,” Dagmar whispered. With one hand, she grabbed the big toe of Sandy’s left foot and bent it back. With the other, she began stroking the long-legged vixen’s delightfully silken SOLE—!

“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Sandy screamed. Her naked body writhed and twisted on the table in response to the intense ticklish sensations that shot up her leg. “AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”

“You have SUCH pretty feet,” Dagmar observed as she trailed her nails up and down Sandy’s sole. “Why, I could just tickle them all NIGHT—!”

“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Sandy bellowed. “EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEE!!!”

“Don’t you LOVE the way I pamper your feet?”

BWAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”

The hysterical hilarity continued for many minutes. Dagmar switched back and forth between Sandy’s feet, subjecting heels, soles and arches to merciless tickling. The long-legged vixen laughed—and laughed—and LAUGHED until her face was bright pink and her bare body was damp with a cold, delicate sweat!

As Dagmar tormented her helpless victim, she found herself more and more fascinated by the sight of Sandy’s wiggling feet and twitching toes. She sighed as the thought of licking those sweet, defenseless soles and sucking those cute toes stole over her mind. Her nipples extended themselves and a naughty, joyous thrill pulsed low in her belly.

Sandy gasped, then sobbed with relief, when the foot tickling suddenly ceased. She lay on the table, gasping for breath, unable to see what Dagmar was up to. In fact, the svelte servant was climbing hastily out of her maid’s uniform. In moments, she had stripped down to her scanty black panties, garter belt, stockings and high heels. Kicking the clothes and stool out of the way, she knelt at Sandy’s feet.

“Oh no! PLEASE no!” the long-legged vixen cried. “I couldn’t STAND any more—!”

Dagmar didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she leaned forward on her knees and took Sandy’s left big toe into her mouth!

“Oh!!!” Sandy squealed. “Omygod!!! Omygod it TICKLES!!! Oh PLEEEEEEASE!!!”

But what it was, exactly, that the long-legged vixen wanted Dagmar to do was far from clear. Instead of laughing, she moaned. Instead of writhing in ticklish torment, she struggled to spread her legs. The sensations coursing through her body were still excruciating, but now they made her nipples stiffen and kindled an urgent, lustful sensation in her loins…

Dagmar spent a good ten minutes sucking Sandy’s toes. Then she parted them to explore with her tongue the tender spaces between.

“AAH-AAH-AAH-AAH-AAAAAAH!!!” Sandy moaned as jolts of intense ticklish pleasure shot up her long legs. "AAH YESSSSSS!!!”

“Want me to STOP?” Dagmar inquired in a rather breathless voice.

“No!” the long-legged vixen cried. “Oh no DON’T! Oh PLEASE!”

The svelte servant acquiesced in this heartfelt request to continue, but after another ten minutes of kissing and licking she felt that it was time to move on. Sandy was enjoying this too much—and Sandy’s enjoyment was not exactly the object of the exercise! With a somewhat regretful sigh, Dagmar stood and stepped to the side of the table. She looked down at her prisoner. Sandy was flushed; her breathing was shallow and rapid. She was still trying to get her legs apart.

Dagmar smiled.

“I think it’s time we had a talk,” she said, placing a hand on Sandy’s heaving breast. The long-leg vixen gasped and shivered in response to the svelte servant’s intimate touch. “I would like to know, young lady, who you’ve been seeing.”

Sandy’s eyes widened with genuine terror. “What do you mean?” she faltered. “No one.”

“Come, come,” Dagmar chided. She tweaked Sandy’s rigid nipple. “We both know that you’ve been fooling around on Dean Stanley. The only question is with whom? Someone unauthorized, I daresay.”

“Oh PLEASE!” Sandy sobbed. “She’d be FURIOUS if she found out!”

“Yes, I’ve no doubt that she would.” The svelte servant chuckled. “And as we both know, Margaret Stanley has ways and means of PUNISHING those who betray her!”

“Omygod PLEASE Dagmar! Promise me that you won’t TELL—!”

“Now why should I promise ANYTHING to a cheating little TART like you?” Dagmar shook her head. “No, Sandy, here’s how it’s going to be. You tell ME who your girlfriend is, and I won’t tell Dean Stanley about this. As long as you’re a good girl, that is…”

“Oh, but I CAN’T!”

“Can’t you? Goodness gracious, but what might I do to change your MIND?” And Dagmar’s hand moved from Sandy’s breast to her tender, smoothly shaven armpit!

“GAAAAAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” the long-legged vixen screeched as her delicate hollow was lovingly caressed by Dagmar’s sharp nails. “WAAAAAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”

“Let’s see if we can’t discover your MOST ticklish spot,” Dagmar whispered. “Is it HERE?” she asked, stroking both of Sandy’s armpits with her keen nails.

“HIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Sandy shrieked, squirming desperately “HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”

“Or is it HERE?” Dagmar suggested, shifting her tickling fingers to Sandy’s exposed ribs.

“OOOOH-HO!!! OOOOH-HO!!! OOOOH-HO-HO-OOOOH-HO-HO-HO-HO!!!”

“Poor, poor Sandy! She is so, SO ticklish!”

“YAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!”

That’s right, you tawdry little SLUT—laugh for me! Laugh louder for me, slut! LOUDER—!”

“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEE!!!”

“So are you ready to TELL?” the svelte servant inquired, transferring her ticklish attentions to Sandy’s convulsing belly. “I just might stop TICKLING you if you tell me what I want to know!”

The long-legged vixen wiggled frantically as Dagmar probed her belly button with a well-honed fingernail. Her sides ached from nonstop laughter. Her corn-colored hair, damp with sweat, was plastered around her pink, contorted, tearstained face. Sandy was horribly conscious of the fact that moment by moment, tickle by tickle, her resistance was crumbling. She knew that sooner or later, she was bound to break down and spill her guts to the demanding Dagmar. And once that had happened, she’d be utterly HELPLESS in the clutches of the sadistic, svelte servant!

Eventually the moment arrived when the Dagmar’s hand strayed lower to explore the sensitive skin just above the curly thatch between Sandy’s trembling thighs. Laughing and weeping, she wiggled her hips and tried in vain once more to spread her legs.

“Aha!” Dagmar exclaimed. “I think we’ve found that extra-special SPOT!” Gently, with a single finger, she began to explore among the crisp curls that peeked from between Sandy’s pressed-together thighs. “THIS is where you REALLY want to be tickled, isn’t it, slut?”

“Oh YES!!!” the long-legged vixen cried. “Oh PLEASE!!!”

“So are you ready to tell me what I want to KNOW?” Dagmar asked.

Sandy’s hips gyrated under the svelte servant’s teasing caress. She clamped her mouth shut in one final, futile effort to keep herself from blurting out her shameful secret.

“Perhaps I should go back to tickling your ARMPITS,” Dagmar threatened.

That did it for Sandy! The prospect of further tickle torture was just too much for her. “All RIGHT!” she squealed. “I’ll TELL! I’ll tell you EVERYTHING—!”

“That’s a good girl,” Dagmar cooed. She bent down. “Just whisper the name into my ear.”

Sandy complied.

“Very good!” Dagmar exclaimed. “Now you stay right there—I have to make a quick phone call. And after that, Sandy darling, we’ll see about your reward…”

Great chapter, I really like this story.

wow!