Greetings, all. Here's an new story featuring a wronged wife, a mibehaving husband and his VERY naughty friend. Enjoy!
A Woman Scorned
by
T.T. Gore
***
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Darren screeched. He lifted his bare behind from the mattress and wiggled it with desperate energy. “PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEEEEEESE!!!”
“So are you ready to TALK to me, lover?” Trish inquired. “Or do you still need to be PERSUADED, hmmm?”
“I don’t know what you MEAN!” Darren wailed. “I didn’t DO anything!”
“Now, now, lover, if you LIE to me you’re just going to make it WORSE for yourself.” She moved from the foot of the bed to his right side and put her hand on his heaving chest. “We have all night to, um, work on our relationship.”
“Please, Trish, PLEASE! I swear to GOD that I don’t know what you’re TALKING about!” Darren shivered in his bonds. As a matter of fact, he knew perfectly well what his wife was talking about. But there was no way he was going to admit the truth to her. No fucking WAY!
“Listen, Darren,” she said, toying with his dark chest hair. “You can deny it all you want, but I happen to KNOW that you’re having an affair. I just want to know the little tramp’s name. And if you refuse to cooperate of your own free will, I’m quite prepared to TICKLE her name out of you. And we both know how terribly, terribly TICKLISH you are, don’t we, lover?”
That last rhetorical question made Darren cringe with terror. Trish wasn’t bluffing—he knew that. She’d always been the dominant type, both in and out of bed. And since he’d always been attracted to dominant women, theirs seemed a match made in heaven. Oh, how Darren had loved being tied up, spanked, teased and humiliated by his wicked, wicked wife! That was why he’d let her tie him to the bedrails tonight. But tickling wasn’t supposed to have been part of the scenario! He was WAY too ticklish! She KNEW that!
Darren cursed himself for allowing her to tie him up. Now he was completely at her mercy: stark naked, stretched out on his back, wrists and ankles bound to the brass bedrails. The whole thing was his own stupid fault, of course. He realized that. For the first year of their marriage, he’d been completely faithful to Trish. She was a remarkably inventive lover, after all. But for Darren, variety had always constituted the spice of his sex life. And so eventually he had strayed from his wife. He thought he’d been ultra-discreet. But somehow Trish had guessed that he was having an affair. Feminine intuition, he supposed.
Now his wife smiled down at him. No one would have called Trish a knockout. She was a pleasant-looking girl, thirtysomething, with brown hair worn rather short, hazel eyes under dark eyebrows and dimples that appeared when she smiled. Her arms and legs were slender, her breasts were on the small side, her belly was flat and her hips were shapely. Only her voice, a slightly throaty contralto, offered a hint of her smoldering inner passions. For this interrogation session, she wore nothing but scarlet silk panties that clung to her hips. Darren couldn’t help but notice that his wife’s nipples were rigid with excitement.
“You’ll talk, lover,” she promised, running her fingers through his chest hair. “Maybe not right now, maybe not in ten minutes, but eventually you’ll talk.”
“Trish, I SWEAR to you I never—EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
She’d put an end to his protest by darting her nails into his armpits, and she tickled him in this manner for a solid five minutes. By the time she stopped, Darren was trembling all over and gasping desperately for breath.
“Maybe that will teach you not to LIE to me,” Trish remarked as she returned to the foot of the bed. Or maybe you need ANOTHER lesson!”
And so saying, she resumed her ticklish assault on his helpless FEET!
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NOT MY FEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEET!!!” Darren bellowed as Trish’s well-honed nails danced over his sensitive soles. His aching belly convulsed with each shriek of agonized hilarity that escaped from his pulsing throat. “OH FUUUU-HUUUU-HUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUK!!! I’M GOING CRAAAAY-HAY-AAY-HAY-ZEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Tell me her NAME, lover, and I’ll stop,” Trish promised as she switched to his unbearably ticklish arches.
“BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Darren howled. Oh FUCK he’d had no IDEA that his fucking FEET were so horribly fucking TICKLISH! And if Trish didn’t stop soon he was going to go out of his fucking MIND—!
But she DIDN’T stop, the bitch—she just kept stroking and stroking and STROKING his helpless feet with her sharp nails! And Darren just kept wiggling and writhing and bouncing his ass on the mattress—and LAUGHING! He laughed until his face was bright pink and his eyes were bugging out of his head and his naked body was covered with a cold, delicate sweat. Then he laughed some more.
And STILL Trish tickled him!
“Well, lover, if you insist on being stubborn, I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night,” she told him during an all-too-brief break in the proceedings. “Not that I mind.” She patted his trembling thigh. “Because to tell you the truth, I’m rather ENJOYING myself!”
Darren could well believe that!
After tickling his feet for many, many minutes, during which Darren wiggled and squirmed and laughed like a fucking IDIOT, Trish switched tactics. She moved again from the foot to the side of the bed. Kneeling there, she ran her fingers once more through his chest hair. “Ready to tell me what I want to know?” she whispered.
“Trish!” Darren quavered. “Trish I fucking SWEAR—!”
But she cut him off by digging her sharp nails into his armpit and the backs of his knees!
“YAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” Darren screamed in response to this excruciating new caress. Goose bumps roughened his skin, making the dark hairs on his quivering legs stand up like tiny wires. His frantic struggles caused the old brass bed to creak.
“Tickle, tickle, TICKLE!” Trish sang. “Who likes to be TICKLED?”
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO!!!” Darren bellowed. His aching belly convulsed with each gust of laughter that Trish tickled out of him. Oh, he couldn’t STAND it! Oh, he was going MAD—!
“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll STOP,” Trish promised. Meanwhile her well-honed nails continued to stroke his armpit and the hollows of his knees.
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEESE!!!” Darren squealed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Oh, DOES it?” Trish snickered. “How MUCH does it tickle, Darren? Enough to make you tell me her NAME?” She ran her nails down the back of his leg. “Tickle, tickle, TICKLE!”
“YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” He howled. Horrific sensations of tickling were shooting up his legs, straight into his BALLS and his ASSHOLE! Darren realized that he was becoming AROUSED—and that REDOUBLED the intensity of his torment!
“We have all night, lover,” Trish reminded him. “All night to tickle, tickle TICKLE the truth out of you!”
And with that, Darren’s resistance collapsed. Almost before he knew what he was doing, the shameful secret was tumbling out of his mouth in a wheezing torrent of broken words. As Trish listened, her mocking smile changed to an astonished frown.
‘Well, I have to admit that I never expected anything like THAT,” she admitted when finally he fell silent. She put a hand on his heaving chest and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “But it’s definitely going to make things more interesting. . .
How the fuck had this HAPPENED?! Randy asked himself as he strove with scant success to slip his bonds. They’d waylaid him the moment he’d entered his bedroom. Then they forced him to strip naked, tied his hand behind his back, put him on the bed, spread his legs, and tied his ankles to the corner posts.
But how had Darren’s bitch wife found OUT about them?!
“Oh, it wasn’t hard to persuade Darren to confess,” Trish replied, having divined the nature of his unspoken question. “I can be VERY persuasive—as you’re about to find out.”
She was wearing nothing but rather scanty scarlet silk panties, and even Randy had to admit to himself that she was an attractive woman. Not that he was inclined that way, himself. Darren was much more to his taste—handsome Darren who was not standing off to the side, stark naked, blushing with humiliation as Trish examined their prisoner.
“Oh, Darren, HONESTLY!” Trish shook her head with mock ruefulness. “He’s prettier than half the GIRLS I went to college with!” She winked at Randy. “So slender. And such smooth skin. And I just LOVE that blonde hair and those big brown eyes!”
That made Randy blush and shiver. Oh, God, what was she going to DO to him?! Furtively, he tugged against the ropes that encircled his wrists and ankles. If he could just wiggle FREE—!
Trish circled the bed, gazing down at her naked prisoner with fond anticipation. “There’s no point in struggling,” she advised him with a mocking smile. Darren and I made sure to make the ropes nice and snug. You’re just going to have to lie there and put up with whatever I decide to dish out to you.”
“But why are you DOING this?!” Randy whined.
That made Trish frown. Her voice acquired an edge “Why am I doing this? Well, Randy-Candy, maybe it has something to do with the fact that my husband over there was CHEATING on me—and with YOU!”
“It was all HIS fault,” Darren cried from the corner. “He SEDUCED me!”
“You just shut up,” Trish commanded. “I’m not done with you yet, Darren, but first I have to take care of Randy-Candy here.”
“You let me GO!” Randy screamed. He writhed on the bed “You let me go or I’ll call the POLICE on you!”
“Oh, will you?” Trish chuckled and held up the well-stuffed baggie she’d found in his dresser drawer. “But then how are you going to explain THIS to them, hmmmm? Somehow I don’t think they’ll believe it’s oregano. And what about all those PLANTS you have growing in the basement?”
That made Randy shut his mouth. She’d shown him the baggie before, and he’d realized at that moment that he was well and truly fucked. But he didn’t comprehend just HOW truly fucked he was until Trish knelt by the side of the bed.
“You get in the corner,” she said over her shoulder to Darren. “On your knees. Face the wall. Clasp your hands behind your head. And don’t move, lover, until I give you PERMISSION to move. Randy-Candy and I are going to have a little CHAT!”
And without another word she stroked the hollow of his knee with the sharp nail of her index finger!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Randy screeched. He lifted his curvy derriere from the mattress and shook it desperately. “OH FUU-FUU-UUH-FUU-UUH-FUU-HUCK!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES MEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Well, I should HOPE so,” Trish replied, now running her nail back and forth along the back of his quivering leg. “Because being tickled is your PUNISHMENT, Randy-Candy!”
“OH-HO!!! OH-HO!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO!!!” Randy howled in protest. His bare behind bounced on the mattress. “OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!”
“Oh YES!” Trish corrected him as she brought all five nails into play against his helpless leg. “Because I think that Randy-Candy just absolutely LOVES to be TICKLED!”
“YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Randy shrieked in reply. Oh, the sensation produced by Trish’s sharp nails as they danced over his sensitive skin was absolutely fucking UNBEARABLE! Randy was absolutely convinced that if she didn’t stop right this fucking MINUTE, he’s go right the fuck out of his fucking MIND—!
But Trish didn’t stop. No matter how loudly he bellowed, no matter how frantically he writhed and wiggled and squirmed, she just kept TICKLING him! Her flexing fingers scampered down the back of his leg from hip to heel, then reversed direction—over and over and fucking OVER again! Occasionally she switched tactics, digging her nails into his thigh just above the knee or stroking his tense belly. And poor Randy could do nothing but lay there and fucking TAKE it—!
As for Darren, he was having a difficult time following orders. His fear of his wife’s wrath kept him on his knees with his hands clasped behind his head, facing the corner. But the sounds from across the bedroom—Trish’s mocking commentary, the constant creaking of the bed and above all Randy’s hilarious howling—filled his mind with images of a decidedly kinky character. Darren longed to join the fun. He imagined Randy and Trish tickling him—he imagined himself helping Trish to tickle Randy—he even imagined himself and Randy tickling Trish—all of which had aroused him to the point that he was sporting a rigid, quivering, high-angle erection! At the very least he’d have loved to jerk off in the corner, but could he take the risk of disobeying Trish, who already had him by the balls?
Darren grunted and gyrated his hips. It was all he dared to do.
“So have you learned your LESSON yet, you nasty little SHIT?” Trish inquired as she circled the bed to tickle her prisoner’s other leg. “Have you learned that it isn’t a good IDEA to play dirty with a married guy?”
“Yes!” Randy sobbed. “Oh YES! I’m SORRY! Oh please please PLEASE don’t TICKLE me any more!”
“But you OWE me, Randy-Candy.” Trish licked her lips. “You took what was MINE, didn’t you? And I deserve some PAYBACK, don’t I?
“Omygod!” Randy gasped. “Omygod NO!”
“And I prefer to take payment in TICKLING” Trish smirked. “Because you are just SO terribly SENSITIVE, Randy-Candy, aren’t you?”
“I’m BEGGING you!”
“Ah, Randy-Candy, that’s EXACTLY what I like to hear!” Trish chortled—and she dug her nails into his thigh!
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Randy squealed. He writhed and wiggled with frenetic energy in response to the horrific sensations of hilarious torment that convulsed his muscles. His face quickly became pink. Goose bumps roughened his silken skin. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!”
“Never suspected that your legs could be so ticklish, did you?” Trish was obviously enjoying herself. “Poor baby! Of course, you have OTHER sensitive spots as well. And we certainly won’t neglect them! Your cute FEET, fore instance.”
“No!” Randy screamed. “NO! Not my FEET! Anything but my FEET!”
“Well, perhaps not right this MINUTE,” Trish conceded.
“GAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” Randy bellowed as she resumed her ticklish assault on the back of his leg, stroking up and down with a single nail until he was absolutely fucking CERTAIN that he’s go totally fucking INSANE—!
“So tell me, Randy-Candy,” Trish said a few minutes later, having decided to grant him a brief respite. “What DID you get up to with my handsome husband, hmmm? Exactly how far did the two of you GO?”
This was just about the last thing in the universe that Randy wished to discuss with Darren’s sadistic wife. On the other hand, if he did keep his mouth shut, she’d simply tickle the truth out of him. And Randy knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long under THAT kind of persuasion. Sooner or later, he’d talk.
But to tell all with fucking Darren kneeling in the corner, listening to every word—the very thought of it made Randy cringe. He had no choice, though. None! So in a trembling voice, he gave a summary of their clandestine sexual relationship.
Ominously, Trish didn’t say a word as he described how he’d met Darren in a downtown bar. After a few drinks, Darren had made a cryptic remark about being a bit bi curious. That was all the encouragement that Randy needed. Within the hour, in a cheap motel room, he introduced a slightly tipsy but eagerly compliant Darren to the joys of all-male mutual masturbation. And once he’d tasted THAT forbidden fruit, the relationship developed rapidly. Before two weeks had passed, Darren was being tutored in the finer points of fellatio—and he proved an apt pupil. It was then that Trish began to notice a flagging of his interest in HER little games, and her suspicions were aroused.
“He. . .he said we’d have to cool it for awhile,” Randy stammered.
“And you protested, eh?”
“I. . .I. . .”
“Oh, yes, you protested.” Trish nodded knowingly. “And since you’d managed to transform MY husband into YOUR pathetic little sex slave, he did as YOU commanded!”
“Yes—no—I mean, it wasn’t LIKE that!”
“Oh, I think it was,” Trish replied with a smile devoid of all humor. “I know him well enough, after all. Better than you, actually. Darren may LOOK like a masculine stud. But in his heart he prefers to be ordered around. And until YOU came along, I was giving the orders!”
“I’m sorry!” Randy sobbed. “I didn’t MEAN to!”
“Well,” Trish chuckled, “since you’re SORRY I guess you can be allowed a little TREAT. Darren! Come over here! And bring the feather!”
Darren scurried over, holding in his right hand a stiff, pointed feather. Trish directed him to kneel on the other side of the bed. She herself moved to the foot of the bed. “I’ll just give you boys a minute,” she said.
And a minute was all it took for Darren to put his special friend in a manly way. Randy tried to resist, but he simply couldn’t HELP himself!
“Is he ready?” Trish asked. “He is? Good! Then I’ll start on his feet. You concentrate on his balls, Darren. And be careful. We wouldn’t want Randy-Candy to make a mess, would we?”
And with no more ado, they went to work!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Randy screamed. Trish’s nails danced over his bare soles. Darren’s feather caressed his tense balls. His legs trembled and his back arched in response to their excruciating ministrations. Together they were driving him totally BUGFUCK—!
“I think he LIKES it!” Trish giggled. “What do YOU think, Darren?”
“He likes it,” Darren breathed as he stroked the most delicate portion of his lover’s masculine anatomy. “I think he likes it a LOT!”
And indeed, Randy’s response to their intimate attentions was most gratifying. He arched his back, gyrated his hips and wiggled his cute behind. He jerked his torso to and fro. And he laughed. Oh, how he laughed! He laughed until his EYES bulged and his face became hot PINK and he got goose bumps all OVER! You could have bounced a quarter on his drum-tight BELLY. All in all, it was just about the sexiest fucking thing that Darren had ever SEEN—!
After many minutes of nonstop hilarity, Trish decided to grant their victim a short respite. “Take a moment to catch your breath Randy-Candy. Because that was just the BEGINNING!”
Poor Randy was too busy gasping for air to reply.
“Are we going to let him cum?” Darren inquired in a throaty whisper.
“Hmmm, I haven’t decided.” Trish licked her lips. “Eventually, I suppose. But there’s no rush. And in the meantime, Darren, I see that YOU’VE become all hot and bothered!”
Darren blushed.
“Perhaps we should take care of that now, lover,” Trish whispered as she moved from the foot to the side of the bed. “I’m sure that Randy-Candy won’t mind waiting while I administer some stress relief.”
Trish dropped to her knees next to her husband. “Turn around,” she commanded. “That’s right. And clasp your hands behind your head, just like when I put you in the corner.”
“Oh, Trish, PLEASE!” Darren moaned. She was kneeling behind him now. He shivered as with a light touch she ran her nails down his sides—and he gasped when she gave his balls a playful squeeze.
“He did it just this way, lover, didn’t he, hmmm?” Trish put one hand on her trembling husband’s chest and the other on his tumid tool. “He just stroked and stroked and STROKED until he made you SQUIRT!”
And she suited the action to the word! Her clever fingers slid back and forth, with maddening deliberation, along the length of Darren’s throbbing shaft. And it wasn’t long before she teased out the first drop of pre-cum.
As for Randy, he shut his eyes against the hateful spectacle. But he couldn’t shut his ears to Darren’s entreaties and pleas, or to Trish’s mordant comments, or to the muscular, throaty grunt of supreme effort that escaped Darren’s throat when he began at last to cum his stupid BRAINS out—!
It was all so UNFAIR—especially when the two of them began to TICKLE him again—!
For slender Ryan it was an exhausting night, during which he discovered just how long it took to LAUGH one’s way to orgasm. But with the loving help of Trish and Darren, he made it. Eventually.
A Woman Scorned
by
T.T. Gore
***
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Darren screeched. He lifted his bare behind from the mattress and wiggled it with desperate energy. “PLEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEEEEEESE!!!”
“So are you ready to TALK to me, lover?” Trish inquired. “Or do you still need to be PERSUADED, hmmm?”
“I don’t know what you MEAN!” Darren wailed. “I didn’t DO anything!”
“Now, now, lover, if you LIE to me you’re just going to make it WORSE for yourself.” She moved from the foot of the bed to his right side and put her hand on his heaving chest. “We have all night to, um, work on our relationship.”
“Please, Trish, PLEASE! I swear to GOD that I don’t know what you’re TALKING about!” Darren shivered in his bonds. As a matter of fact, he knew perfectly well what his wife was talking about. But there was no way he was going to admit the truth to her. No fucking WAY!
“Listen, Darren,” she said, toying with his dark chest hair. “You can deny it all you want, but I happen to KNOW that you’re having an affair. I just want to know the little tramp’s name. And if you refuse to cooperate of your own free will, I’m quite prepared to TICKLE her name out of you. And we both know how terribly, terribly TICKLISH you are, don’t we, lover?”
That last rhetorical question made Darren cringe with terror. Trish wasn’t bluffing—he knew that. She’d always been the dominant type, both in and out of bed. And since he’d always been attracted to dominant women, theirs seemed a match made in heaven. Oh, how Darren had loved being tied up, spanked, teased and humiliated by his wicked, wicked wife! That was why he’d let her tie him to the bedrails tonight. But tickling wasn’t supposed to have been part of the scenario! He was WAY too ticklish! She KNEW that!
Darren cursed himself for allowing her to tie him up. Now he was completely at her mercy: stark naked, stretched out on his back, wrists and ankles bound to the brass bedrails. The whole thing was his own stupid fault, of course. He realized that. For the first year of their marriage, he’d been completely faithful to Trish. She was a remarkably inventive lover, after all. But for Darren, variety had always constituted the spice of his sex life. And so eventually he had strayed from his wife. He thought he’d been ultra-discreet. But somehow Trish had guessed that he was having an affair. Feminine intuition, he supposed.
Now his wife smiled down at him. No one would have called Trish a knockout. She was a pleasant-looking girl, thirtysomething, with brown hair worn rather short, hazel eyes under dark eyebrows and dimples that appeared when she smiled. Her arms and legs were slender, her breasts were on the small side, her belly was flat and her hips were shapely. Only her voice, a slightly throaty contralto, offered a hint of her smoldering inner passions. For this interrogation session, she wore nothing but scarlet silk panties that clung to her hips. Darren couldn’t help but notice that his wife’s nipples were rigid with excitement.
“You’ll talk, lover,” she promised, running her fingers through his chest hair. “Maybe not right now, maybe not in ten minutes, but eventually you’ll talk.”
“Trish, I SWEAR to you I never—EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
She’d put an end to his protest by darting her nails into his armpits, and she tickled him in this manner for a solid five minutes. By the time she stopped, Darren was trembling all over and gasping desperately for breath.
“Maybe that will teach you not to LIE to me,” Trish remarked as she returned to the foot of the bed. Or maybe you need ANOTHER lesson!”
And so saying, she resumed her ticklish assault on his helpless FEET!
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-NOT MY FEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEET!!!” Darren bellowed as Trish’s well-honed nails danced over his sensitive soles. His aching belly convulsed with each shriek of agonized hilarity that escaped from his pulsing throat. “OH FUUUU-HUUUU-HUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUK!!! I’M GOING CRAAAAY-HAY-AAY-HAY-ZEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Tell me her NAME, lover, and I’ll stop,” Trish promised as she switched to his unbearably ticklish arches.
“BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Darren howled. Oh FUCK he’d had no IDEA that his fucking FEET were so horribly fucking TICKLISH! And if Trish didn’t stop soon he was going to go out of his fucking MIND—!
But she DIDN’T stop, the bitch—she just kept stroking and stroking and STROKING his helpless feet with her sharp nails! And Darren just kept wiggling and writhing and bouncing his ass on the mattress—and LAUGHING! He laughed until his face was bright pink and his eyes were bugging out of his head and his naked body was covered with a cold, delicate sweat. Then he laughed some more.
And STILL Trish tickled him!
“Well, lover, if you insist on being stubborn, I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night,” she told him during an all-too-brief break in the proceedings. “Not that I mind.” She patted his trembling thigh. “Because to tell you the truth, I’m rather ENJOYING myself!”
Darren could well believe that!
After tickling his feet for many, many minutes, during which Darren wiggled and squirmed and laughed like a fucking IDIOT, Trish switched tactics. She moved again from the foot to the side of the bed. Kneeling there, she ran her fingers once more through his chest hair. “Ready to tell me what I want to know?” she whispered.
“Trish!” Darren quavered. “Trish I fucking SWEAR—!”
But she cut him off by digging her sharp nails into his armpit and the backs of his knees!
“YAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” Darren screamed in response to this excruciating new caress. Goose bumps roughened his skin, making the dark hairs on his quivering legs stand up like tiny wires. His frantic struggles caused the old brass bed to creak.
“Tickle, tickle, TICKLE!” Trish sang. “Who likes to be TICKLED?”
“OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO!!!” Darren bellowed. His aching belly convulsed with each gust of laughter that Trish tickled out of him. Oh, he couldn’t STAND it! Oh, he was going MAD—!
“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll STOP,” Trish promised. Meanwhile her well-honed nails continued to stroke his armpit and the hollows of his knees.
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEESE!!!” Darren squealed. “IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
“Oh, DOES it?” Trish snickered. “How MUCH does it tickle, Darren? Enough to make you tell me her NAME?” She ran her nails down the back of his leg. “Tickle, tickle, TICKLE!”
“YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” He howled. Horrific sensations of tickling were shooting up his legs, straight into his BALLS and his ASSHOLE! Darren realized that he was becoming AROUSED—and that REDOUBLED the intensity of his torment!
“We have all night, lover,” Trish reminded him. “All night to tickle, tickle TICKLE the truth out of you!”
And with that, Darren’s resistance collapsed. Almost before he knew what he was doing, the shameful secret was tumbling out of his mouth in a wheezing torrent of broken words. As Trish listened, her mocking smile changed to an astonished frown.
‘Well, I have to admit that I never expected anything like THAT,” she admitted when finally he fell silent. She put a hand on his heaving chest and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “But it’s definitely going to make things more interesting. . .
***
How the fuck had this HAPPENED?! Randy asked himself as he strove with scant success to slip his bonds. They’d waylaid him the moment he’d entered his bedroom. Then they forced him to strip naked, tied his hand behind his back, put him on the bed, spread his legs, and tied his ankles to the corner posts.
But how had Darren’s bitch wife found OUT about them?!
“Oh, it wasn’t hard to persuade Darren to confess,” Trish replied, having divined the nature of his unspoken question. “I can be VERY persuasive—as you’re about to find out.”
She was wearing nothing but rather scanty scarlet silk panties, and even Randy had to admit to himself that she was an attractive woman. Not that he was inclined that way, himself. Darren was much more to his taste—handsome Darren who was not standing off to the side, stark naked, blushing with humiliation as Trish examined their prisoner.
“Oh, Darren, HONESTLY!” Trish shook her head with mock ruefulness. “He’s prettier than half the GIRLS I went to college with!” She winked at Randy. “So slender. And such smooth skin. And I just LOVE that blonde hair and those big brown eyes!”
That made Randy blush and shiver. Oh, God, what was she going to DO to him?! Furtively, he tugged against the ropes that encircled his wrists and ankles. If he could just wiggle FREE—!
Trish circled the bed, gazing down at her naked prisoner with fond anticipation. “There’s no point in struggling,” she advised him with a mocking smile. Darren and I made sure to make the ropes nice and snug. You’re just going to have to lie there and put up with whatever I decide to dish out to you.”
“But why are you DOING this?!” Randy whined.
That made Trish frown. Her voice acquired an edge “Why am I doing this? Well, Randy-Candy, maybe it has something to do with the fact that my husband over there was CHEATING on me—and with YOU!”
“It was all HIS fault,” Darren cried from the corner. “He SEDUCED me!”
“You just shut up,” Trish commanded. “I’m not done with you yet, Darren, but first I have to take care of Randy-Candy here.”
“You let me GO!” Randy screamed. He writhed on the bed “You let me go or I’ll call the POLICE on you!”
“Oh, will you?” Trish chuckled and held up the well-stuffed baggie she’d found in his dresser drawer. “But then how are you going to explain THIS to them, hmmmm? Somehow I don’t think they’ll believe it’s oregano. And what about all those PLANTS you have growing in the basement?”
That made Randy shut his mouth. She’d shown him the baggie before, and he’d realized at that moment that he was well and truly fucked. But he didn’t comprehend just HOW truly fucked he was until Trish knelt by the side of the bed.
“You get in the corner,” she said over her shoulder to Darren. “On your knees. Face the wall. Clasp your hands behind your head. And don’t move, lover, until I give you PERMISSION to move. Randy-Candy and I are going to have a little CHAT!”
And without another word she stroked the hollow of his knee with the sharp nail of her index finger!
“EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Randy screeched. He lifted his curvy derriere from the mattress and shook it desperately. “OH FUU-FUU-UUH-FUU-UUH-FUU-HUCK!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES MEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!”
“Well, I should HOPE so,” Trish replied, now running her nail back and forth along the back of his quivering leg. “Because being tickled is your PUNISHMENT, Randy-Candy!”
“OH-HO!!! OH-HO!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO!!!” Randy howled in protest. His bare behind bounced on the mattress. “OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!”
“Oh YES!” Trish corrected him as she brought all five nails into play against his helpless leg. “Because I think that Randy-Candy just absolutely LOVES to be TICKLED!”
“YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Randy shrieked in reply. Oh, the sensation produced by Trish’s sharp nails as they danced over his sensitive skin was absolutely fucking UNBEARABLE! Randy was absolutely convinced that if she didn’t stop right this fucking MINUTE, he’s go right the fuck out of his fucking MIND—!
But Trish didn’t stop. No matter how loudly he bellowed, no matter how frantically he writhed and wiggled and squirmed, she just kept TICKLING him! Her flexing fingers scampered down the back of his leg from hip to heel, then reversed direction—over and over and fucking OVER again! Occasionally she switched tactics, digging her nails into his thigh just above the knee or stroking his tense belly. And poor Randy could do nothing but lay there and fucking TAKE it—!
As for Darren, he was having a difficult time following orders. His fear of his wife’s wrath kept him on his knees with his hands clasped behind his head, facing the corner. But the sounds from across the bedroom—Trish’s mocking commentary, the constant creaking of the bed and above all Randy’s hilarious howling—filled his mind with images of a decidedly kinky character. Darren longed to join the fun. He imagined Randy and Trish tickling him—he imagined himself helping Trish to tickle Randy—he even imagined himself and Randy tickling Trish—all of which had aroused him to the point that he was sporting a rigid, quivering, high-angle erection! At the very least he’d have loved to jerk off in the corner, but could he take the risk of disobeying Trish, who already had him by the balls?
Darren grunted and gyrated his hips. It was all he dared to do.
“So have you learned your LESSON yet, you nasty little SHIT?” Trish inquired as she circled the bed to tickle her prisoner’s other leg. “Have you learned that it isn’t a good IDEA to play dirty with a married guy?”
“Yes!” Randy sobbed. “Oh YES! I’m SORRY! Oh please please PLEASE don’t TICKLE me any more!”
“But you OWE me, Randy-Candy.” Trish licked her lips. “You took what was MINE, didn’t you? And I deserve some PAYBACK, don’t I?
“Omygod!” Randy gasped. “Omygod NO!”
“And I prefer to take payment in TICKLING” Trish smirked. “Because you are just SO terribly SENSITIVE, Randy-Candy, aren’t you?”
“I’m BEGGING you!”
“Ah, Randy-Candy, that’s EXACTLY what I like to hear!” Trish chortled—and she dug her nails into his thigh!
“HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Randy squealed. He writhed and wiggled with frenetic energy in response to the horrific sensations of hilarious torment that convulsed his muscles. His face quickly became pink. Goose bumps roughened his silken skin. “OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!”
“Never suspected that your legs could be so ticklish, did you?” Trish was obviously enjoying herself. “Poor baby! Of course, you have OTHER sensitive spots as well. And we certainly won’t neglect them! Your cute FEET, fore instance.”
“No!” Randy screamed. “NO! Not my FEET! Anything but my FEET!”
“Well, perhaps not right this MINUTE,” Trish conceded.
“GAAAAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-AAR-HAR-HAR-HAR!!!” Randy bellowed as she resumed her ticklish assault on the back of his leg, stroking up and down with a single nail until he was absolutely fucking CERTAIN that he’s go totally fucking INSANE—!
“So tell me, Randy-Candy,” Trish said a few minutes later, having decided to grant him a brief respite. “What DID you get up to with my handsome husband, hmmm? Exactly how far did the two of you GO?”
This was just about the last thing in the universe that Randy wished to discuss with Darren’s sadistic wife. On the other hand, if he did keep his mouth shut, she’d simply tickle the truth out of him. And Randy knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long under THAT kind of persuasion. Sooner or later, he’d talk.
But to tell all with fucking Darren kneeling in the corner, listening to every word—the very thought of it made Randy cringe. He had no choice, though. None! So in a trembling voice, he gave a summary of their clandestine sexual relationship.
Ominously, Trish didn’t say a word as he described how he’d met Darren in a downtown bar. After a few drinks, Darren had made a cryptic remark about being a bit bi curious. That was all the encouragement that Randy needed. Within the hour, in a cheap motel room, he introduced a slightly tipsy but eagerly compliant Darren to the joys of all-male mutual masturbation. And once he’d tasted THAT forbidden fruit, the relationship developed rapidly. Before two weeks had passed, Darren was being tutored in the finer points of fellatio—and he proved an apt pupil. It was then that Trish began to notice a flagging of his interest in HER little games, and her suspicions were aroused.
“He. . .he said we’d have to cool it for awhile,” Randy stammered.
“And you protested, eh?”
“I. . .I. . .”
“Oh, yes, you protested.” Trish nodded knowingly. “And since you’d managed to transform MY husband into YOUR pathetic little sex slave, he did as YOU commanded!”
“Yes—no—I mean, it wasn’t LIKE that!”
“Oh, I think it was,” Trish replied with a smile devoid of all humor. “I know him well enough, after all. Better than you, actually. Darren may LOOK like a masculine stud. But in his heart he prefers to be ordered around. And until YOU came along, I was giving the orders!”
“I’m sorry!” Randy sobbed. “I didn’t MEAN to!”
“Well,” Trish chuckled, “since you’re SORRY I guess you can be allowed a little TREAT. Darren! Come over here! And bring the feather!”
Darren scurried over, holding in his right hand a stiff, pointed feather. Trish directed him to kneel on the other side of the bed. She herself moved to the foot of the bed. “I’ll just give you boys a minute,” she said.
And a minute was all it took for Darren to put his special friend in a manly way. Randy tried to resist, but he simply couldn’t HELP himself!
“Is he ready?” Trish asked. “He is? Good! Then I’ll start on his feet. You concentrate on his balls, Darren. And be careful. We wouldn’t want Randy-Candy to make a mess, would we?”
And with no more ado, they went to work!
“EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!” Randy screamed. Trish’s nails danced over his bare soles. Darren’s feather caressed his tense balls. His legs trembled and his back arched in response to their excruciating ministrations. Together they were driving him totally BUGFUCK—!
“I think he LIKES it!” Trish giggled. “What do YOU think, Darren?”
“He likes it,” Darren breathed as he stroked the most delicate portion of his lover’s masculine anatomy. “I think he likes it a LOT!”
And indeed, Randy’s response to their intimate attentions was most gratifying. He arched his back, gyrated his hips and wiggled his cute behind. He jerked his torso to and fro. And he laughed. Oh, how he laughed! He laughed until his EYES bulged and his face became hot PINK and he got goose bumps all OVER! You could have bounced a quarter on his drum-tight BELLY. All in all, it was just about the sexiest fucking thing that Darren had ever SEEN—!
After many minutes of nonstop hilarity, Trish decided to grant their victim a short respite. “Take a moment to catch your breath Randy-Candy. Because that was just the BEGINNING!”
Poor Randy was too busy gasping for air to reply.
“Are we going to let him cum?” Darren inquired in a throaty whisper.
“Hmmm, I haven’t decided.” Trish licked her lips. “Eventually, I suppose. But there’s no rush. And in the meantime, Darren, I see that YOU’VE become all hot and bothered!”
Darren blushed.
“Perhaps we should take care of that now, lover,” Trish whispered as she moved from the foot to the side of the bed. “I’m sure that Randy-Candy won’t mind waiting while I administer some stress relief.”
Trish dropped to her knees next to her husband. “Turn around,” she commanded. “That’s right. And clasp your hands behind your head, just like when I put you in the corner.”
“Oh, Trish, PLEASE!” Darren moaned. She was kneeling behind him now. He shivered as with a light touch she ran her nails down his sides—and he gasped when she gave his balls a playful squeeze.
“He did it just this way, lover, didn’t he, hmmm?” Trish put one hand on her trembling husband’s chest and the other on his tumid tool. “He just stroked and stroked and STROKED until he made you SQUIRT!”
And she suited the action to the word! Her clever fingers slid back and forth, with maddening deliberation, along the length of Darren’s throbbing shaft. And it wasn’t long before she teased out the first drop of pre-cum.
As for Randy, he shut his eyes against the hateful spectacle. But he couldn’t shut his ears to Darren’s entreaties and pleas, or to Trish’s mordant comments, or to the muscular, throaty grunt of supreme effort that escaped Darren’s throat when he began at last to cum his stupid BRAINS out—!
It was all so UNFAIR—especially when the two of them began to TICKLE him again—!
For slender Ryan it was an exhausting night, during which he discovered just how long it took to LAUGH one’s way to orgasm. But with the loving help of Trish and Darren, he made it. Eventually.
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