The Laughing Professor - Part 6
Two hours after the former English Comp professor had entered her
office, the Dean of Women opened the door and fixed a rather glassy stare
upon her secretary.
"Call the City Police" she ordered, "...and tell them that Ms. Standley
is ready to be picked up."
Janine, the Dean's Secretary, tried to hide the red blushing that had
suffused her face for the last two hours as she nodded compliance. She had
heard every giggle, gasp, and moan that issued from the office since Margaret
Standley had entered. Knowing the rumors that had circulated like wildfire
about the campus, she also knew what had transpired behind those locked
doors. Fitfully, she rubbed her own smoldering thighs together as she dialed
the number for Police Dispatch.
With a quivering voice threatening to break at any moment, Janine
relayed the order and quickly hung up the phone. With perverse delight she
wished she could have seen what had just transpired and a questioning lust
made her wonder how she would react if she were in the helpless brunette's
predicament. She too was a slave to her own ticklishness; in fact she was
rendered completely, unquestionably helpless. But fortunately, the entire
campus was unaware of her vulnerability.
In a vain attempt to regain her composure, the forty-ish brunette tucked
a few stray strands of graying hair back behind her ear and straightened her
glasses on her pert, upturned nose. She tried thinking of icy cold showers
and driving snow in an attempt to quiet her surging libido before the Police
came.
When the officer finally arrived, Janine was surprised to see a short,
petite redhead before her desk. Officer Jantzen curtly told Janine she was
there to apprehend the suspect and would she please hurry so she could be
about her business. Janine hurried into the Dean's office and returned a few
moments later; pushing the exhausted ex-professor before her.
Margaret said little on the way to the Precinct. In fact the only
sounds she issued were mewling little giggles that seemed to punctuate the
crazed look in her eyes.
"Oh great" Deb Jantzen told herself, "another loony. Thank God the Dean
told me how to manage this one !"
Despite the Dean's efforts, she was unable to get the woman to admit to
the crime nor reveal the whereabouts of the money she had embezzled. Nodding
thoughtfully to herself, Deb was sure she had a way to crack the case and
have a solid collar under her belt.
Margaret meekly submitted to the routine strip search and stood quietly
as her civilian clothes were confiscated and she was issued the standard
prison garb. A rough chambray workshirt, dungaree trousers, socks and tennis
shoes replaced her typically reserved business suit. They did let her keep
her underthings, however, which did allow her a modicum of femininity. All
this was lost on the tortured woman whose eyes vacantly stared at nothing.
While this was taking place, Officer Jantzen was putting a plan of her
own into action.
"Okay you two, listen up" she told the two prostitutes lunging
insolently behind a set of filthy steel bars, "I'm going to move you to a
more isolated cell".
Warily the blonde and brunette eyed the diminutive officer.
"It's a hell of a lot cleaner than this one, and in return, I want you
to do me a small favor".
"What's in it fer us ?" asked the blonde.
"I'm sure you'll find the arrangement quite suitable. Now, here's what I
want you to do..."
Margaret was placed in a cell at the far end of a deserted corridor with
two other women; prostitutes by the look of their heavy makeup. Smiling
sweetly they welcomed her and offered her the bunk against the far wall.
Little did Margaret know, nor would she have especially cared, that Deb
Jantzen had already had that little talk with her two cellmates. With the
promise of certain eyes looking the other way at the proper time, she secured
their aid in the "interrogation" of Deb's latest prisoner. She had also told
them what method would best force the information from the recalcitrant
brunette.
The two tried making small talk with the new prisoner but got neither
response nor interest.
"What do you suppose her problem is ?" asked the blonde cellmate,
"...maybe she thinks she's too good to be in here with us workin' women !"
"Dunno," said the black haired prisoner, "but I notice she gets fancy
new duds while we get the old worn out stuff".
"Maybe if ya ask her real sweet-like she'll trade ya for 'em" the blonde
said sniggering evilly.
Margaret's crazed thoughts were far away from the dialogue of her
cellmates, but she was forcibly brought back to the present when the black
haired woman grabbed a handful of chambray shirt and ripped the left sleeve
completely off!
Stunned by the sudden attack, Margaret cowered away from the black
haired woman and tried to curl up into a defensive ball on the bunk.
Laughing evilly, the blonde followed her cellmate's lead and ripped
Margaret's other sleeve off !
Maggie looked wildly around and started flailing her arms in an
ineffectual attempt at self-defense. Like vultures tearing at their prey,
the two women began stripping Margaret's clothes off piece by piece. As she
struggled futilely on the bunk, the two pulled off her sneakers, ripped at
the remains of her shirt, and peeled her dungarees down across her hips. Her
socks were shredded next after they finally succeeded in skinning the
dungarees off the struggling brunette.
Margaret tried crawling away from her two attackers as she mewled
feebly, but had no where to escape to.
The blonde grabbed the back of her bra-strap and the strained fabric
parted easily, leaving the brunette nude from the waist up.
As one, the two each snared a flailing ankle and wickedly began tickling
the soles of Margaret's bare feet ! Squealing convulsively, the brunette
writhed on the bunk as she was once again being torturously tickled into
hilarious helplessness at the hands of her cellmates. It took only seconds
for her futile flailing to degrade into submissive wriggling as they tickled
her senseless. With useless modesty she covered her jiggling breasts with
both arms; unable to defend herself against this hilarious onslaught.
"Soooo, why dontcha tell us what you're in her for ?" the blonde asked
wickedly.
"Yeah, tell us why a goody-two-shoes professor like you gets thrown in
jail with a coupla hookers ?" the black haired one added.
Margaret was unable to voice a response as she was almost out of breath
and couldn't stop laughing as they continued to tease her tender bare soles.
"Hmmmmm, don't feel like talkin' to us huh ? Welll, maybe I can help
loosen that tongue of yours".
Seemingly from nowhere, the blonde produced an old hair brush. Cruelly,
she pulled Margaret's leg up and over her torso so that the nude sole was
wriggling invitingly in front of her.
With experienced strokes, she drew the hair brush back and forth across
the soles, balls, and toes of Maggie's bare foot; touching them just enough
to produce the maximum amount of ticklish intensity !
As the incredibly irresistable tickling sensations slammed through her
body, Margaret's mind snapped. Gone was any vestige of the prim, proper
professor of English. This visage was replaced by a psyche of cruel,
unremitting vengeance. Deep within her tortured mind she vowed that those
people who had stripped her of sanity and everything she had held dear would
pay. How, her mind couldn't tell at that moment as she was nearing
unconsciousness from the lack of oxygen. The unrelenting tickling sapped
everything from her and pushed her farther and farther into insanity.
The two pros tickled the helpless professor for 3 full hours ! Even
after several muscle-wrenching orgasms and incessant questioning by her
attackers, the brunette, now quite mad, refused to talk.
After the recalcitrant Margaret finally lapsed into unconscious
oblivion, the two left her alone in the cell and stole off to effect their
pre-arranged escape.
Two hours after the former English Comp professor had entered her
office, the Dean of Women opened the door and fixed a rather glassy stare
upon her secretary.
"Call the City Police" she ordered, "...and tell them that Ms. Standley
is ready to be picked up."
Janine, the Dean's Secretary, tried to hide the red blushing that had
suffused her face for the last two hours as she nodded compliance. She had
heard every giggle, gasp, and moan that issued from the office since Margaret
Standley had entered. Knowing the rumors that had circulated like wildfire
about the campus, she also knew what had transpired behind those locked
doors. Fitfully, she rubbed her own smoldering thighs together as she dialed
the number for Police Dispatch.
With a quivering voice threatening to break at any moment, Janine
relayed the order and quickly hung up the phone. With perverse delight she
wished she could have seen what had just transpired and a questioning lust
made her wonder how she would react if she were in the helpless brunette's
predicament. She too was a slave to her own ticklishness; in fact she was
rendered completely, unquestionably helpless. But fortunately, the entire
campus was unaware of her vulnerability.
In a vain attempt to regain her composure, the forty-ish brunette tucked
a few stray strands of graying hair back behind her ear and straightened her
glasses on her pert, upturned nose. She tried thinking of icy cold showers
and driving snow in an attempt to quiet her surging libido before the Police
came.
When the officer finally arrived, Janine was surprised to see a short,
petite redhead before her desk. Officer Jantzen curtly told Janine she was
there to apprehend the suspect and would she please hurry so she could be
about her business. Janine hurried into the Dean's office and returned a few
moments later; pushing the exhausted ex-professor before her.
Margaret said little on the way to the Precinct. In fact the only
sounds she issued were mewling little giggles that seemed to punctuate the
crazed look in her eyes.
"Oh great" Deb Jantzen told herself, "another loony. Thank God the Dean
told me how to manage this one !"
Despite the Dean's efforts, she was unable to get the woman to admit to
the crime nor reveal the whereabouts of the money she had embezzled. Nodding
thoughtfully to herself, Deb was sure she had a way to crack the case and
have a solid collar under her belt.
Margaret meekly submitted to the routine strip search and stood quietly
as her civilian clothes were confiscated and she was issued the standard
prison garb. A rough chambray workshirt, dungaree trousers, socks and tennis
shoes replaced her typically reserved business suit. They did let her keep
her underthings, however, which did allow her a modicum of femininity. All
this was lost on the tortured woman whose eyes vacantly stared at nothing.
While this was taking place, Officer Jantzen was putting a plan of her
own into action.
"Okay you two, listen up" she told the two prostitutes lunging
insolently behind a set of filthy steel bars, "I'm going to move you to a
more isolated cell".
Warily the blonde and brunette eyed the diminutive officer.
"It's a hell of a lot cleaner than this one, and in return, I want you
to do me a small favor".
"What's in it fer us ?" asked the blonde.
"I'm sure you'll find the arrangement quite suitable. Now, here's what I
want you to do..."
Margaret was placed in a cell at the far end of a deserted corridor with
two other women; prostitutes by the look of their heavy makeup. Smiling
sweetly they welcomed her and offered her the bunk against the far wall.
Little did Margaret know, nor would she have especially cared, that Deb
Jantzen had already had that little talk with her two cellmates. With the
promise of certain eyes looking the other way at the proper time, she secured
their aid in the "interrogation" of Deb's latest prisoner. She had also told
them what method would best force the information from the recalcitrant
brunette.
The two tried making small talk with the new prisoner but got neither
response nor interest.
"What do you suppose her problem is ?" asked the blonde cellmate,
"...maybe she thinks she's too good to be in here with us workin' women !"
"Dunno," said the black haired prisoner, "but I notice she gets fancy
new duds while we get the old worn out stuff".
"Maybe if ya ask her real sweet-like she'll trade ya for 'em" the blonde
said sniggering evilly.
Margaret's crazed thoughts were far away from the dialogue of her
cellmates, but she was forcibly brought back to the present when the black
haired woman grabbed a handful of chambray shirt and ripped the left sleeve
completely off!
Stunned by the sudden attack, Margaret cowered away from the black
haired woman and tried to curl up into a defensive ball on the bunk.
Laughing evilly, the blonde followed her cellmate's lead and ripped
Margaret's other sleeve off !
Maggie looked wildly around and started flailing her arms in an
ineffectual attempt at self-defense. Like vultures tearing at their prey,
the two women began stripping Margaret's clothes off piece by piece. As she
struggled futilely on the bunk, the two pulled off her sneakers, ripped at
the remains of her shirt, and peeled her dungarees down across her hips. Her
socks were shredded next after they finally succeeded in skinning the
dungarees off the struggling brunette.
Margaret tried crawling away from her two attackers as she mewled
feebly, but had no where to escape to.
The blonde grabbed the back of her bra-strap and the strained fabric
parted easily, leaving the brunette nude from the waist up.
As one, the two each snared a flailing ankle and wickedly began tickling
the soles of Margaret's bare feet ! Squealing convulsively, the brunette
writhed on the bunk as she was once again being torturously tickled into
hilarious helplessness at the hands of her cellmates. It took only seconds
for her futile flailing to degrade into submissive wriggling as they tickled
her senseless. With useless modesty she covered her jiggling breasts with
both arms; unable to defend herself against this hilarious onslaught.
"Soooo, why dontcha tell us what you're in her for ?" the blonde asked
wickedly.
"Yeah, tell us why a goody-two-shoes professor like you gets thrown in
jail with a coupla hookers ?" the black haired one added.
Margaret was unable to voice a response as she was almost out of breath
and couldn't stop laughing as they continued to tease her tender bare soles.
"Hmmmmm, don't feel like talkin' to us huh ? Welll, maybe I can help
loosen that tongue of yours".
Seemingly from nowhere, the blonde produced an old hair brush. Cruelly,
she pulled Margaret's leg up and over her torso so that the nude sole was
wriggling invitingly in front of her.
With experienced strokes, she drew the hair brush back and forth across
the soles, balls, and toes of Maggie's bare foot; touching them just enough
to produce the maximum amount of ticklish intensity !
As the incredibly irresistable tickling sensations slammed through her
body, Margaret's mind snapped. Gone was any vestige of the prim, proper
professor of English. This visage was replaced by a psyche of cruel,
unremitting vengeance. Deep within her tortured mind she vowed that those
people who had stripped her of sanity and everything she had held dear would
pay. How, her mind couldn't tell at that moment as she was nearing
unconsciousness from the lack of oxygen. The unrelenting tickling sapped
everything from her and pushed her farther and farther into insanity.
The two pros tickled the helpless professor for 3 full hours ! Even
after several muscle-wrenching orgasms and incessant questioning by her
attackers, the brunette, now quite mad, refused to talk.
After the recalcitrant Margaret finally lapsed into unconscious
oblivion, the two left her alone in the cell and stole off to effect their
pre-arranged escape.
