The penultimate chapter. . .
Definitive Edition
A Small Circle of Friends
by T.T. Gore
Chapter Eleven: Dagmar and Barbara Meet Their Match
***
“Alice, what are you DOING?!” Dagmar Frost whimpered. “Let me GO, you little BITCH—HIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!”
“If I were you, I’d keep a civil TONGUE in my head,” Alice Dorpe replied with a nasty smirk. She delivered another stinging slap to her prisoner’s defenseless derriere. The svelte servant squirmed and yelped. “Because, Dagmar, you’re hardly in a position to be barking orders at ME!”
That was no more than the truth. Dagmar was stark naked, face down on her narrow bed, arms and legs spread-eagled, wrists and ankles tied to the corner posts. She’d obviously been drugged by Alice, brought to the spare bedroom, stripped and secured in her present position. But why? Why? What could the submissive and humble Alice Dorpe (formerly Professor Adrienne DeCarlo) possibly be UP to?!
Even though they’d both been reduced to the humiliating status of maids in the employ of Dean Margaret Stanley, Dagmar had always felt superior to Alice. Indeed, she’s scarcely given the little twerp a second thought. It was obvious now, however, that beneath her meek exterior, Alice concealed a cold and calculating intelligence. She was clearly a player in the sinister behind-the-scenes struggle for control of Unknown University. But WHO could she possibly be WORKING for—?
“I prefer to be called by my real name, by the way,” Adrienne added. “Though actually it’s Ms. DeCarlo to YOU, Dagmar! Got that?”
Dagmar yelped again as her bottom was favored with another hard slap. “Yes—yes—alright—alright, Ms. DeCarlo! Now will you PLEASE stop DOING that!”
“Oh, don’t you ENJOY being spanked, Dagmar?” Adrienne was still dressed in her tight, short-skirted maid’s uniform, which exposed a large portion of shapely thigh and fetching cleavage. She treated Dagmar to another slap. “I suppose you’d prefer to mete out the spankings, wouldn’t you?”
“GAAAARRRRGH!!!” Dagmar gasped as her bottom received a fourth and even harder slap. “Oh, you little TRAMP! I’m going to GET you for this!” she cried. “Just you WAIT, Adrienne. I will make you PAY!”
“I think not,” Adrienne replied. “In fact, Dagmar, you’ll be lucky if you’re still Dean Stanley’s MAID when this is all over.” Her high heels made clicking sounds on the hardwood floor as she stepped to the foot of the bed. “Though now that I’ve been promoted, we unfortunately will no longer be working together.”
Dagmar trembled with fear and rage. “What do you mean, PROMOTED?” she gasped. Her shapely limbs quivered as she tugged against the bonds that held her fast. “What have you been UP to?”
“Mostly I’ve been keeping tabs on you and the rest of Ms. Stanley’s underlings.” Adrienne chuckled. “Yes, that’s right, Dagmar, I know all about you and that Potzdorf slut. She’ll get hers, don’t you worry. I know about the detective, too. You were supposed to meet her here tonight weren’t you, hmmm? Well, you’re going to miss that appointment—and little Miss Barbara Lorraine is in for the surprise of her LIFE! As for YOU, well, I suppose you can guess what’s going to happen next. . .”
At that threat, Dagmar’s sense of dignity fled like a rat deserting a sinking ship. She opened her mouth to beg for mercy, but before she could get a word out—it began!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA!!!” the svelte servant screeched wildly. Adrienne’s clever fingers were dancing along the backs of Dagmar’s long LEGS, and the resulting sensation was absolutely fucking UNBEARABLE—!
“You have no IDEA how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Adrienne chortled. Her tongue crept out to touch her upper lip as she danced her sharp-nailed fingers back and forth between Dagmar’s heels and the hollows of her knees. “You thought you were so much BETTER than me, didn’t you? You thought that with Gabrielle Potzdorf’s help you might even regain your former position. Well, Dagmar, I may not be a perfect person, but at least I’m not a two-faced TRAITOR!”
“EEEEEEHEEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Dagmar shrieked. She shivered and squirmed and gyrated her bare bottom in a desperate but futile attempt to alleviate the ticklish torment that was driving her absolutely INSANE! Goose bumps roughened her skin. Tears filled here eyes. And an all-too-familiar sensation—a hideously DELICIOUS sensation—was beginning to smolder, oh! so low in her BELLY—!
Adrienne accelerated the process of her prisoner’s arousal by transferring her ticklish attentions from Dagmar’s legs to her posterior, on which the blush of three sexy slaps had not yet faded. She swirled her well-honed nails over taut, sensitive skin, smiling with satisfaction at Dagmar’s energetic response to this intimate caress.
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NO!!!” Dagmar brayed. She made a convulsive effort to bring her legs together, but that was an exercise in futility. Her bare behind was totally defenseless—and unbearably fucking TICKLISH—! “NOT THERE!!! OH-NO-HO-HO NOT THERE!!! OH PLEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEESE!!!”
“Oh all right,” Adrienne replied. “Since you say please.”
And the tickling stopped. It stopped! Dagmar sobbed with unutterable relief. Surely now Adrienne would release her from bondage! Surely now to torture would come to an end—!
“No, no,” Adrienne whispered. “No, Dagmar, we’re just getting started. . .” And with that, the raven-haired lovely climbed onto the bed! Dagmar needed no more than a glance to confirm that her tormentress was now naked except for scarlet silk panties that rode low on her hips. Moving quickly, Adrienne knelt so as to straddle the small of her prisoner’s back, facing toward the foot of the bed.
“Oh, Dagmar,” she whispered avidly. “This is going to be SO much fun. . .”
The svelte servant trembled with fearful apprehension. Oh God, she thought, what was Adrienne going to DO? Perhaps it was just as well that couldn’t see the stiff, pointed feather in Adrienne’s right hand, but she soon felt it—when it dipped down to probe the gaping, supersensitive cleft of her BUTTOCKS—!
Dagmar emitted a high-pitched screech that bore no more than a passing resemblance to conventional laughter. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she trembled violently. Never—not EVER—had she felt anything even remotely like the horrific, crawling sensation that shot up her ASSHOLE, straight into her churning GUTS! Oh, it was insufferable! It was horrible! It was GLORIOUS—!
Glorious, yes, completely and totally GLORIOUS! That was the truly terrible thing: Dagmar was being systematically tickle tortured to edge of sheer LUNACY! And oh! It was turning her ON! Dagmar couldn’t HELP herself! Her nipples stiffened and her hips shimmied. She buried her sweaty face in the mattress and moaned with helpless, hopeless desire!
Completely preoccupied with her own delicious humiliation, Dagmar was quite unaware of her captor’s swelling lust. Already Adrienne’s panties had become slightly damp. Her trim tummy was drum-tense and her nipples were jutting. Her bare breasts swayed slightly as she manipulated the feather with sadistic precision, savoring her helpless prisoner’s squeals and struggles. Each time Dagmar bucked, an electric thrill of delight shot through Adrienne’s loins. The heady scent of musk was thick in her flaring nostrils.
Gradually, Adrienne allowed her ticklish assault to concentrate on Dagmar’s tightly puckered orifice. This caused the svelte servant to redouble her frenzied attempts to writhe away from the hellish feather. Her gasping screams rebounded from the bare walls of the bedroom. Adrienne was forced to brace herself with her free hand on Dagmar’s butt cheek, digging in her nails slightly to maintain purchase.
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Dagmar whinnied in a perfect ecstasy of ticklish torment and burning lust. She was conscious of nothing but the unbearably intense sensation produced by the kiss of the feather, and a desperate, driving desire to cum her stupid fucking BRAINS out! Oh, if only Adrienne would allow the feather to slip just a little LOWER—!
But the raven-haired lovely had no intention of granting Dagmar the release she so avidly craved. From bittersweet experience, Adrienne knew exactly what her naked prisoner was experiencing now—and she saw no reason to show mercy to this superior BITCH who’d treated her like DIRT! She brought up her free hand momentarily to tweak her rigid nipples, then grabbed another handful of Dagmar’s bottom and bent to her task anew!
“OH NO YOU’RE DRI-HII-HII-EEEEIIII-HII-HIVING MEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE CRAZEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Dagmar shrieked.
“That’s pretty much the idea, you BIMBO!” Adrienne whispered throatily, arching her back and wiggling her hips as she drew closer and closer to the first orgasm of what promised to be a long and thoroughly enjoyable night. . .
Night was falling as Barbara Lorraine hurried up the front steps of the palatial colonial mansion that served as Dean Margaret Stanley’s official residence. She was dressed as usual in her student outfit: high heels, short skirt, tight sleeveless blouse, no bra. With a quick glance to the left and right, she slipped through the door, into a dark hall. A few more steps brought her to the lavishly furnished front room. It too was dim, dark and silent. The curvaceous cutie hesitated, then advanced a cautious step.
“Dagmar? Dagmar!” she called in a soft voice. “Are you here?”
“Dagmar couldn’t make it, I’m afraid,” came the reply from a shadowed corner of the room. “But I’ve prepared a cordial welcome for you, dear.”
Barbara was about to demand an explanation when suddenly there was a hissing sound and she found herself engulfed in a fine mist. Tiny droplets gleamed in her dark hair and on the bare skin of her face, arms, and cleavage.
“Oh my GOODNESS!” she exclaimed as the nefarious combination of narcotics and aphrodisiacs was absorbed through her skin. “I suddenly feel so light-HEADED!”
Unaware that she’d spoken aloud, Barbara tottered into the center of the room on suddenly unsteady legs. “Hello?” she called in a quavering voice. “Who’s there?”
“Hello, my dear,” said Margaret Stanley as she emerged from the shadows. So nice of you to drop by.” Clad in a full-length robe of scarlet silk that clung enticingly to her curves, Margaret strode to an opulent leather sofa and sat down, crossing her long legs.
So this was Margaret Stanley! Barbara eyed her avidly. She’d studied photos and knew that Dean Stanley was a good-looking woman—but in the flesh, the buxom brunette was absolutely stunning! Dark-haired, tall and voluptuous, she possessed the face and figure of a Penthouse Pet! Just LOOKING at her gave Barbara a warm, fuzzy feeling—!
“Well! I think it’s time we got acquainted, Ms. Lorraine!” Margaret patted the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down here next to me?”
Barbara wobbled across the room. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, the brunette’s invitation possessed the force of an imperious command. She reached the sofa and collapsed into a sitting position, exposing a generous portion of sleek thigh in the process. “Gosh!” she quavered. “I don’t know what’s the MATTER with me all of a sudden!”
“Just relax for a moment, dear.” Margaret patted Barbara’s knee—a casual touch that nevertheless sent an electric thrill through the curvaceous cutie’s nervous system. Her bottom squirmed on the leather sofa cushion. A delicate sheen of sweat became visible on her forehead and the tops of her breasts. Barbara’s lips curved up in a silly smile. She batted her eyelashes at the buxom brunette, hoping to be touched again.
“We needn’t wait for your informer,” Margaret went on. She gratified her guest’s desire by stoking Barbara’s bare arm. “Dagmar is otherwise occupied at the moment. And I suppose you know what that means, dear.” The brunette chuckled. “Your investigation has given you a peek behind the scenes here at Unknown University, hasn’t it?”
“Why yes!” Barbara replied in a bright, eager voice that sounded strange in her own ears. Margaret’s light touch hand on her arm made the curvaceous cutie tingle all over “Yes, it has!” She giggled. “They’re all so TICKLISH, aren’t they?”
“Indeed they are.” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not? Is that what you’re implying?”
The question flustered Barbara. “Oh, goodness, I don’t KNOW,’ she replied. “I mean I’ve never—that is I haven’t EVER—!”
“Haven’t ever been stripped NAKED, haven’t ever been tied UP, haven’t ever been tickled SILLY by a special FRIEND?” The brunette laid a hand on Barbara’s thigh. “Is that what you were going to say, dear?”
Once again, Margaret’s touch sent a thrill through Barbara’s body and made her writhe visibly. Oh, what was HAPPENING to her? She drew a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady her nerves. Her nipples were erect against the thin material of her blouse and her panties felt slightly damp. The faint but alluring scent of her own musk tickled her nostrils. Involuntarily, she swayed toward the buxom brunette.
“That’s right, dear,” Margaret whispered. She hooked a finger in Barbara’s blouse and popped the top two buttons.
“Oh!” cried Barbara as her breasts tumbled free. “Oh my GOODNESS—!”
“Goodness has nothing to do with it, I assure you,” the brunette chortled as she pulled Barbara to her feet. “And now I suggest we adjourn to the bedroom.”
For Barbara, the next few minutes were a blur. Once in the palatial bedroom, she allowed herself to be stripped of her clothes. When the brunette commanded her to get on the bed and stretch out her limbs, she obeyed. She lay on her back, staring dizzily up at the ceiling, while Margaret secured her wrists and ankles to the brass corner posts of the bed with cords of scarlet velvet. Barbara knew what was coming, but somehow the fear and terror that she ought to be feeling would not materialize.
Sanding by the side of the bed, Margaret Stanley smiled down at her prisoner. Then she shrugged off her robe. Barbara’s breath caught in her throat when she realized that the buxom brunette wore nothing underneath. She could not tear her eyes from the sight of Margaret’s proud, ample breasts. Oh, how she longed to KISS them—!
Then the brunette mounted the bed! Kneeling between Barbara’s wide-open thighs, she reached down to tweak the curvaceous cutie’s rigid NIPPLES! Barbara released a squeal of delight and trembled violently. Oh, how lovely it was to be TOUCHED like that—!
“Yes,” Margaret whispered. “I was sure you’d enjoy this. Perhaps even without the chemical enhancement, hmmmm? You strike me as the kind of girl who’d simply ADORE the games we play here at dear old Unknown U.”
And with no more ado, the buxom brunette shot her fingers into Barbara’s exposed armpits!
“HIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!” the curvaceous cutie squealed. “NO—STOP—-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” she squealed. "OH PLEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEESE NOT THERE!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE- HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“DOES it?" Margaret chuckled. “And does it tickle just LITTLE, dear? Or does it tickle a LOT?”
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Barbara bellowed. She squirmed and struggled with desperate energy in a vain attempt to evade the maddening caress of the brunette’s sharp-nailed fingers. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!”
“Ah, so it DOES tickle a lot!” Margaret ran her tongue along her upper lip. “Why, it just tickles you to BITS, dear, doesn’t it?”
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Barbara shrieked. Her frantic, unavailing struggles rattled the bed frame. "BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
“Heavens! You’re simply squirming all OVER the place, dear!” Margaret paused the tickling long enough to pat her prisoner’s flushed cheek. “Perhaps it’s time for a little break. But only a SHORT one, mind you!”
Barbara lay there gasping for breath. The brunette’s hilarious ministrations was driving her MAD—but for some crazy reason she had to bit her tongue, not to keep herself from begging for mercy, but to keep herself from begging for MORE tickling! The curvaceous cutie gazed up at her captor with adoring eyes. At that moment she would gladly have sold her soul to SATAN for the privilege of being tickled and tickled and TICKLED by this dominant goddess until she was RAVING with lust and laughter!
“Believe me, dear, I TOTALLY understand your feelings.” Margaret shook her head ruefully. “There was a time, indeed, when I was in precisely the position that YOU’RE in now. But not to worry, my sweet, for I intend to be far more merciful toward YOU than my enemies were toward ME!”
And then the buxom brunette bent down to whisper her proposition into her panting prisoner’s ear. Of course it was received by Barbara as an order that must be obeyed; such was the power of the chemical concoction with which she’s been sprayed. “Oh, yes!” she exclaimed with a ditzy smile. “That sounds like a WONDERFUL idea, Ms. Stanley! Of COURSE I accept!”
“Good!” Margaret brushed her lips across Barbara’s. “In that case, there remains only the matter of your initiation!”
And she dug her well-honed fingernails into Barbara’s defenseless RIBS!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Barbara howled as a fierce thrill of ticklish electricity sizzled along her over-stimulated nervous system. Her trim tummy convulsed with the sheer muscular effort required to laugh and laugh and LAUGH her stupid HEAD off! “HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” she shrieked.
Oh, it was WORSE than before—MUCH worse, Barbara realized as she bounced her bare bottom on the mattress. The hideous sensations produced by the brunette’s prancing fingers plucked at every nerve in her body, causing her supple limbs to tremble uncontrollably—and there was no fucking way to make it STOP! Not that she WANTED it to stop—!
Goose bumps roughened Barbara’s silken skin, causing the fine dark hairs on her arms to stick up like tiny quills. A thin sheen of sweat dampened her writhing body. Tears flowed from her eyes. Her breasts tingled and her tumid nipples ached fiercely. “AAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” she screamed.
The initiation of Barbara Lorraine continued for quite some time. And though it began on a high note of anguished hilarity, it ended on a gentle note of post-orgasmic exhaustion, with the buxom brunette and the curvaceous cutie trembling in one another arms on the disordered bed.
“Was it good for you?” Margaret whispered as she stroked her erstwhile prisoner’s breast with loving fingers.
“Oh, yes!” Barbara sighed.
But the best, she knew, was yet to come. . .
Definitive Edition
A Small Circle of Friends
by T.T. Gore
Chapter Eleven: Dagmar and Barbara Meet Their Match
***
“Alice, what are you DOING?!” Dagmar Frost whimpered. “Let me GO, you little BITCH—HIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!”
“If I were you, I’d keep a civil TONGUE in my head,” Alice Dorpe replied with a nasty smirk. She delivered another stinging slap to her prisoner’s defenseless derriere. The svelte servant squirmed and yelped. “Because, Dagmar, you’re hardly in a position to be barking orders at ME!”
That was no more than the truth. Dagmar was stark naked, face down on her narrow bed, arms and legs spread-eagled, wrists and ankles tied to the corner posts. She’d obviously been drugged by Alice, brought to the spare bedroom, stripped and secured in her present position. But why? Why? What could the submissive and humble Alice Dorpe (formerly Professor Adrienne DeCarlo) possibly be UP to?!
Even though they’d both been reduced to the humiliating status of maids in the employ of Dean Margaret Stanley, Dagmar had always felt superior to Alice. Indeed, she’s scarcely given the little twerp a second thought. It was obvious now, however, that beneath her meek exterior, Alice concealed a cold and calculating intelligence. She was clearly a player in the sinister behind-the-scenes struggle for control of Unknown University. But WHO could she possibly be WORKING for—?
“I prefer to be called by my real name, by the way,” Adrienne added. “Though actually it’s Ms. DeCarlo to YOU, Dagmar! Got that?”
Dagmar yelped again as her bottom was favored with another hard slap. “Yes—yes—alright—alright, Ms. DeCarlo! Now will you PLEASE stop DOING that!”
“Oh, don’t you ENJOY being spanked, Dagmar?” Adrienne was still dressed in her tight, short-skirted maid’s uniform, which exposed a large portion of shapely thigh and fetching cleavage. She treated Dagmar to another slap. “I suppose you’d prefer to mete out the spankings, wouldn’t you?”
“GAAAARRRRGH!!!” Dagmar gasped as her bottom received a fourth and even harder slap. “Oh, you little TRAMP! I’m going to GET you for this!” she cried. “Just you WAIT, Adrienne. I will make you PAY!”
“I think not,” Adrienne replied. “In fact, Dagmar, you’ll be lucky if you’re still Dean Stanley’s MAID when this is all over.” Her high heels made clicking sounds on the hardwood floor as she stepped to the foot of the bed. “Though now that I’ve been promoted, we unfortunately will no longer be working together.”
Dagmar trembled with fear and rage. “What do you mean, PROMOTED?” she gasped. Her shapely limbs quivered as she tugged against the bonds that held her fast. “What have you been UP to?”
“Mostly I’ve been keeping tabs on you and the rest of Ms. Stanley’s underlings.” Adrienne chuckled. “Yes, that’s right, Dagmar, I know all about you and that Potzdorf slut. She’ll get hers, don’t you worry. I know about the detective, too. You were supposed to meet her here tonight weren’t you, hmmm? Well, you’re going to miss that appointment—and little Miss Barbara Lorraine is in for the surprise of her LIFE! As for YOU, well, I suppose you can guess what’s going to happen next. . .”
At that threat, Dagmar’s sense of dignity fled like a rat deserting a sinking ship. She opened her mouth to beg for mercy, but before she could get a word out—it began!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA!!!” the svelte servant screeched wildly. Adrienne’s clever fingers were dancing along the backs of Dagmar’s long LEGS, and the resulting sensation was absolutely fucking UNBEARABLE—!
“You have no IDEA how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Adrienne chortled. Her tongue crept out to touch her upper lip as she danced her sharp-nailed fingers back and forth between Dagmar’s heels and the hollows of her knees. “You thought you were so much BETTER than me, didn’t you? You thought that with Gabrielle Potzdorf’s help you might even regain your former position. Well, Dagmar, I may not be a perfect person, but at least I’m not a two-faced TRAITOR!”
“EEEEEEHEEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Dagmar shrieked. She shivered and squirmed and gyrated her bare bottom in a desperate but futile attempt to alleviate the ticklish torment that was driving her absolutely INSANE! Goose bumps roughened her skin. Tears filled here eyes. And an all-too-familiar sensation—a hideously DELICIOUS sensation—was beginning to smolder, oh! so low in her BELLY—!
Adrienne accelerated the process of her prisoner’s arousal by transferring her ticklish attentions from Dagmar’s legs to her posterior, on which the blush of three sexy slaps had not yet faded. She swirled her well-honed nails over taut, sensitive skin, smiling with satisfaction at Dagmar’s energetic response to this intimate caress.
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NO!!!” Dagmar brayed. She made a convulsive effort to bring her legs together, but that was an exercise in futility. Her bare behind was totally defenseless—and unbearably fucking TICKLISH—! “NOT THERE!!! OH-NO-HO-HO NOT THERE!!! OH PLEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEESE!!!”
“Oh all right,” Adrienne replied. “Since you say please.”
And the tickling stopped. It stopped! Dagmar sobbed with unutterable relief. Surely now Adrienne would release her from bondage! Surely now to torture would come to an end—!
“No, no,” Adrienne whispered. “No, Dagmar, we’re just getting started. . .” And with that, the raven-haired lovely climbed onto the bed! Dagmar needed no more than a glance to confirm that her tormentress was now naked except for scarlet silk panties that rode low on her hips. Moving quickly, Adrienne knelt so as to straddle the small of her prisoner’s back, facing toward the foot of the bed.
“Oh, Dagmar,” she whispered avidly. “This is going to be SO much fun. . .”
The svelte servant trembled with fearful apprehension. Oh God, she thought, what was Adrienne going to DO? Perhaps it was just as well that couldn’t see the stiff, pointed feather in Adrienne’s right hand, but she soon felt it—when it dipped down to probe the gaping, supersensitive cleft of her BUTTOCKS—!
Dagmar emitted a high-pitched screech that bore no more than a passing resemblance to conventional laughter. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she trembled violently. Never—not EVER—had she felt anything even remotely like the horrific, crawling sensation that shot up her ASSHOLE, straight into her churning GUTS! Oh, it was insufferable! It was horrible! It was GLORIOUS—!
Glorious, yes, completely and totally GLORIOUS! That was the truly terrible thing: Dagmar was being systematically tickle tortured to edge of sheer LUNACY! And oh! It was turning her ON! Dagmar couldn’t HELP herself! Her nipples stiffened and her hips shimmied. She buried her sweaty face in the mattress and moaned with helpless, hopeless desire!
Completely preoccupied with her own delicious humiliation, Dagmar was quite unaware of her captor’s swelling lust. Already Adrienne’s panties had become slightly damp. Her trim tummy was drum-tense and her nipples were jutting. Her bare breasts swayed slightly as she manipulated the feather with sadistic precision, savoring her helpless prisoner’s squeals and struggles. Each time Dagmar bucked, an electric thrill of delight shot through Adrienne’s loins. The heady scent of musk was thick in her flaring nostrils.
Gradually, Adrienne allowed her ticklish assault to concentrate on Dagmar’s tightly puckered orifice. This caused the svelte servant to redouble her frenzied attempts to writhe away from the hellish feather. Her gasping screams rebounded from the bare walls of the bedroom. Adrienne was forced to brace herself with her free hand on Dagmar’s butt cheek, digging in her nails slightly to maintain purchase.
“EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Dagmar whinnied in a perfect ecstasy of ticklish torment and burning lust. She was conscious of nothing but the unbearably intense sensation produced by the kiss of the feather, and a desperate, driving desire to cum her stupid fucking BRAINS out! Oh, if only Adrienne would allow the feather to slip just a little LOWER—!
But the raven-haired lovely had no intention of granting Dagmar the release she so avidly craved. From bittersweet experience, Adrienne knew exactly what her naked prisoner was experiencing now—and she saw no reason to show mercy to this superior BITCH who’d treated her like DIRT! She brought up her free hand momentarily to tweak her rigid nipples, then grabbed another handful of Dagmar’s bottom and bent to her task anew!
“OH NO YOU’RE DRI-HII-HII-EEEEIIII-HII-HIVING MEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE CRAZEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Dagmar shrieked.
“That’s pretty much the idea, you BIMBO!” Adrienne whispered throatily, arching her back and wiggling her hips as she drew closer and closer to the first orgasm of what promised to be a long and thoroughly enjoyable night. . .
***
Night was falling as Barbara Lorraine hurried up the front steps of the palatial colonial mansion that served as Dean Margaret Stanley’s official residence. She was dressed as usual in her student outfit: high heels, short skirt, tight sleeveless blouse, no bra. With a quick glance to the left and right, she slipped through the door, into a dark hall. A few more steps brought her to the lavishly furnished front room. It too was dim, dark and silent. The curvaceous cutie hesitated, then advanced a cautious step.
“Dagmar? Dagmar!” she called in a soft voice. “Are you here?”
“Dagmar couldn’t make it, I’m afraid,” came the reply from a shadowed corner of the room. “But I’ve prepared a cordial welcome for you, dear.”
Barbara was about to demand an explanation when suddenly there was a hissing sound and she found herself engulfed in a fine mist. Tiny droplets gleamed in her dark hair and on the bare skin of her face, arms, and cleavage.
“Oh my GOODNESS!” she exclaimed as the nefarious combination of narcotics and aphrodisiacs was absorbed through her skin. “I suddenly feel so light-HEADED!”
Unaware that she’d spoken aloud, Barbara tottered into the center of the room on suddenly unsteady legs. “Hello?” she called in a quavering voice. “Who’s there?”
“Hello, my dear,” said Margaret Stanley as she emerged from the shadows. So nice of you to drop by.” Clad in a full-length robe of scarlet silk that clung enticingly to her curves, Margaret strode to an opulent leather sofa and sat down, crossing her long legs.
So this was Margaret Stanley! Barbara eyed her avidly. She’d studied photos and knew that Dean Stanley was a good-looking woman—but in the flesh, the buxom brunette was absolutely stunning! Dark-haired, tall and voluptuous, she possessed the face and figure of a Penthouse Pet! Just LOOKING at her gave Barbara a warm, fuzzy feeling—!
“Well! I think it’s time we got acquainted, Ms. Lorraine!” Margaret patted the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down here next to me?”
Barbara wobbled across the room. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, the brunette’s invitation possessed the force of an imperious command. She reached the sofa and collapsed into a sitting position, exposing a generous portion of sleek thigh in the process. “Gosh!” she quavered. “I don’t know what’s the MATTER with me all of a sudden!”
“Just relax for a moment, dear.” Margaret patted Barbara’s knee—a casual touch that nevertheless sent an electric thrill through the curvaceous cutie’s nervous system. Her bottom squirmed on the leather sofa cushion. A delicate sheen of sweat became visible on her forehead and the tops of her breasts. Barbara’s lips curved up in a silly smile. She batted her eyelashes at the buxom brunette, hoping to be touched again.
“We needn’t wait for your informer,” Margaret went on. She gratified her guest’s desire by stoking Barbara’s bare arm. “Dagmar is otherwise occupied at the moment. And I suppose you know what that means, dear.” The brunette chuckled. “Your investigation has given you a peek behind the scenes here at Unknown University, hasn’t it?”
“Why yes!” Barbara replied in a bright, eager voice that sounded strange in her own ears. Margaret’s light touch hand on her arm made the curvaceous cutie tingle all over “Yes, it has!” She giggled. “They’re all so TICKLISH, aren’t they?”
“Indeed they are.” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not? Is that what you’re implying?”
The question flustered Barbara. “Oh, goodness, I don’t KNOW,’ she replied. “I mean I’ve never—that is I haven’t EVER—!”
“Haven’t ever been stripped NAKED, haven’t ever been tied UP, haven’t ever been tickled SILLY by a special FRIEND?” The brunette laid a hand on Barbara’s thigh. “Is that what you were going to say, dear?”
Once again, Margaret’s touch sent a thrill through Barbara’s body and made her writhe visibly. Oh, what was HAPPENING to her? She drew a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady her nerves. Her nipples were erect against the thin material of her blouse and her panties felt slightly damp. The faint but alluring scent of her own musk tickled her nostrils. Involuntarily, she swayed toward the buxom brunette.
“That’s right, dear,” Margaret whispered. She hooked a finger in Barbara’s blouse and popped the top two buttons.
“Oh!” cried Barbara as her breasts tumbled free. “Oh my GOODNESS—!”
“Goodness has nothing to do with it, I assure you,” the brunette chortled as she pulled Barbara to her feet. “And now I suggest we adjourn to the bedroom.”
For Barbara, the next few minutes were a blur. Once in the palatial bedroom, she allowed herself to be stripped of her clothes. When the brunette commanded her to get on the bed and stretch out her limbs, she obeyed. She lay on her back, staring dizzily up at the ceiling, while Margaret secured her wrists and ankles to the brass corner posts of the bed with cords of scarlet velvet. Barbara knew what was coming, but somehow the fear and terror that she ought to be feeling would not materialize.
Sanding by the side of the bed, Margaret Stanley smiled down at her prisoner. Then she shrugged off her robe. Barbara’s breath caught in her throat when she realized that the buxom brunette wore nothing underneath. She could not tear her eyes from the sight of Margaret’s proud, ample breasts. Oh, how she longed to KISS them—!
Then the brunette mounted the bed! Kneeling between Barbara’s wide-open thighs, she reached down to tweak the curvaceous cutie’s rigid NIPPLES! Barbara released a squeal of delight and trembled violently. Oh, how lovely it was to be TOUCHED like that—!
“Yes,” Margaret whispered. “I was sure you’d enjoy this. Perhaps even without the chemical enhancement, hmmmm? You strike me as the kind of girl who’d simply ADORE the games we play here at dear old Unknown U.”
And with no more ado, the buxom brunette shot her fingers into Barbara’s exposed armpits!
“HIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!” the curvaceous cutie squealed. “NO—STOP—-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” she squealed. "OH PLEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEESE NOT THERE!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE- HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“DOES it?" Margaret chuckled. “And does it tickle just LITTLE, dear? Or does it tickle a LOT?”
“BWAAAAAAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Barbara bellowed. She squirmed and struggled with desperate energy in a vain attempt to evade the maddening caress of the brunette’s sharp-nailed fingers. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!”
“Ah, so it DOES tickle a lot!” Margaret ran her tongue along her upper lip. “Why, it just tickles you to BITS, dear, doesn’t it?”
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Barbara shrieked. Her frantic, unavailing struggles rattled the bed frame. "BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
“Heavens! You’re simply squirming all OVER the place, dear!” Margaret paused the tickling long enough to pat her prisoner’s flushed cheek. “Perhaps it’s time for a little break. But only a SHORT one, mind you!”
Barbara lay there gasping for breath. The brunette’s hilarious ministrations was driving her MAD—but for some crazy reason she had to bit her tongue, not to keep herself from begging for mercy, but to keep herself from begging for MORE tickling! The curvaceous cutie gazed up at her captor with adoring eyes. At that moment she would gladly have sold her soul to SATAN for the privilege of being tickled and tickled and TICKLED by this dominant goddess until she was RAVING with lust and laughter!
“Believe me, dear, I TOTALLY understand your feelings.” Margaret shook her head ruefully. “There was a time, indeed, when I was in precisely the position that YOU’RE in now. But not to worry, my sweet, for I intend to be far more merciful toward YOU than my enemies were toward ME!”
And then the buxom brunette bent down to whisper her proposition into her panting prisoner’s ear. Of course it was received by Barbara as an order that must be obeyed; such was the power of the chemical concoction with which she’s been sprayed. “Oh, yes!” she exclaimed with a ditzy smile. “That sounds like a WONDERFUL idea, Ms. Stanley! Of COURSE I accept!”
“Good!” Margaret brushed her lips across Barbara’s. “In that case, there remains only the matter of your initiation!”
And she dug her well-honed fingernails into Barbara’s defenseless RIBS!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Barbara howled as a fierce thrill of ticklish electricity sizzled along her over-stimulated nervous system. Her trim tummy convulsed with the sheer muscular effort required to laugh and laugh and LAUGH her stupid HEAD off! “HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” she shrieked.
Oh, it was WORSE than before—MUCH worse, Barbara realized as she bounced her bare bottom on the mattress. The hideous sensations produced by the brunette’s prancing fingers plucked at every nerve in her body, causing her supple limbs to tremble uncontrollably—and there was no fucking way to make it STOP! Not that she WANTED it to stop—!
Goose bumps roughened Barbara’s silken skin, causing the fine dark hairs on her arms to stick up like tiny quills. A thin sheen of sweat dampened her writhing body. Tears flowed from her eyes. Her breasts tingled and her tumid nipples ached fiercely. “AAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” she screamed.
The initiation of Barbara Lorraine continued for quite some time. And though it began on a high note of anguished hilarity, it ended on a gentle note of post-orgasmic exhaustion, with the buxom brunette and the curvaceous cutie trembling in one another arms on the disordered bed.
“Was it good for you?” Margaret whispered as she stroked her erstwhile prisoner’s breast with loving fingers.
“Oh, yes!” Barbara sighed.
But the best, she knew, was yet to come. . .
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