(Here's the prologue - http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=123665 )
JJ groaned slightly as she regained consciousness. She could still smell the odour of the sickly sweet chloroform in her nostrils. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times and saw nothing. Gradually her eyes started to adjust to the gloom and she could make out very vague shapes and outlines. Wherever she was, there was a complete absence of natural light.
Her mouth was incredibly dry. She tried to swallow and then realised there was something jammed in her mouth. She fought a momentary wave of panic before she recognised she had been gagged. It felt like there was a wadded ball of cotton in her mouth and duct tape covering the lower part of her face. She tried to sit up from her half reclining position but couldn’t. She was gagged and tied securely.
The young blonde felt her pulse begin to race. She tried to control her breathing, her nostrils flared in and out.
She was bound to some kind of long recliner. Her arms were pulled out to the sides. Straps just above her elbows kept them there and a set of leather cuffs secured her wrists so they were pointed up toward her head. More thick leather straps were straps buckled snugly over her thighs and ankles keeping them pressed together. Whoever had done this to her wanted to make sure she didn’t go anywhere.
JJ was understandably terrified to find herself in this position. She was also a trained FBI agent and she hadn’t passed through selection at Quantico without considerable mental strength. With grim humour she consoled herself with the thought that she wasn’t dead yet and while she drew breath she always had a chance. People would realise she was missing and come looking for her and her colleagues in the Bureau were world-class specialists in that area, especially when one of their own was in harm’s way.
She maintained this positive internal dialogue, calming herself to the point where she could practically hear the operators from HRT fixing their rappelling lines and prepping to fast rope down and rescue her. No, she was down but definitely not out.
A floorboard creaked behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down her side and soak into her turtleneck.
“Hey there, did you sleep well?” His voice was slightly mocking.
JJ felt a hand land lightly on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. He moved around to face her. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have gasped.
She was sure she was looking at the man from the van but the red beard and hair had gone. He wore a close fitting matte black mask over his face. His pale grey eyes were visible, as were his nose and mouth. He was also wearing a black long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He was the classic stalker, the assailant, the pervert all urban females dread in their nightmares.
JJ fought to regain her composure at the sight of him, again her training kicked in. If he was masked it was because he didn’t want her to tell anyone what he looked like. That meant right now he didn’t plan to kill her. So she was alive and he didn’t plan to kill her. She tried to focus on those points as positives.
Her captor sat on the side of the recliner and looked at her. She saw he was fit, lean and hard looking and when he grinned he was positively wolf-like. She felt a shiver run down her spine.
“I am going to take your gag off now and you are not to scream or yell.” He said calmly. “It will do you no good to call for help, believe me, no-one will hear. If you disobey way I will gag you again and then I will blindfold you and block your ears too. You don’t want that do you.”
JJ’s blue eyes blazed with defiance but she shook her head once.
“Good girl. Gently, he peeled the layers of black duct tape from her mouth and then removed the wadded ball of cotton. The items were slipped into a plastic ziploc bag and then they disappeared out of sight.
JJ worked her tongue around her mouth and licked her lips, trying to dispel some of the dryness. The man in the mask offered her water from a blue sports bottle. She shook her head. The man in the mask rolled his eyes, sucked from the straw and offered it to her again.
“If I wanted to drug you or do any damn other thing to you I would have done it already. Drink.”
Hesitantly JJ leaned forward and sipped from the straw. She tasted only cool water and sucked greedily before he pulled the water away.
“Uh-uh. That was free, you will have to earn everything else.”
“Earn?” She said enquiringly.
The wolfish grin returned but no answer was forthcoming.
“I hear the pointy heads in the BAU have been brought into look for me. I am mildly flattered.”
“Well we have been looking for some weird little perv who likes abducting women, tickling them.”
“Really, a weird little perv you say?”
“That’s right,” JJ replied, her jaw set. She wasn’t a profiler, she knew it probably wasn’t a good idea but she was pissed. “You know the kind of guy, goes around sniffing bicycle seats. Can’t maintain a normal relationship with a woman.”
He looked mildly abashed and retorted mockingly, “Agent Jareau, you hurt my feelings.”
The bastard was laughing at her. JJ was furious.
“Look I can’t keep calling you Agent Jareau, it’s way too formal for this intimate little setting. Your friends call you JJ, right? You can call me Mott.” It sounded like Mott to her. She filed the name away.
“Yeah, but we’re not friends. I am a federal agent. You kidnapped me and you are in a world of trouble.”
“Well, ok then, JJ,” He stood up and began to circle her, pacing slowly, “but before we get to that, I need to get something off my chest.”
He stood in front of her and held his hands out, wrists together. “For as long as I can remember I have been taking women against their will and tickling them for my own lurid gratification. I am turning myself in, are you going to arrest me?”
JJ tugged at the bonds locking her body into the recliner, which she had decided was some kind of modified dentist’s chair.
“No? not interested?” He said, feigning surprise. He waved dismissively, let’s forget it then. I guess I may as well continue on my merry rampage but before that I would love to know what the big brains at the BAU know.”
“Well, why don’t you ask them?” JJ shot back. If you know so much about us, you know I am the media liaison. Not a profiler, not a field agent.”
The man in the mask scratched his chin. “Yeah, I suppose I could have taken, what’s his name, Gideon? Or even that stuffed shirt Agent Hotchner but where’s the fun in that? Besides, you have a much nicer rack.” His gaze dropped to the front of JJ’s tight turtleneck. Her chest was pushed forward by the way her arms were bound and she squirmed as his eyes crawled over her body.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, like I said, if I had wanted to do anything like that I could have and would have.”
“Forgive me if I am not totally re-assured by a masked man who assaulted, drugged and kidnapped a federal agent and admits to being a serial abductor.” JJ fumed.
“I’m going to tell you a story.” He said, ignoring her. “It’s about a kid growing up in a small town like millions of small towns across America.”
His hand landed lightly on her denim-clad thigh and squeezed her smooth quads.
“He’s a smart kid but he’s easily bored and his folks don’t have money for college so when he’s old enough he joins the army. He excels, training is a breeze for him and being a handsome devil, well the ladies love a man in uniform.”
JJ was silent now, listening intently. Should she even believe him?
“So one night this military stud finds this fine young female officer in a bar off-base. She’s a southern gal, brunette, brown eyes, ass to die for. They have a few drinks, dance, start making out. I’m sure you know how it is.”
He looked at JJ for a response, his hand slid down her leg and traced the shape of her knee through her jeans
“They go back to her quarters, very naughty. They start fooling around. Things get a little kinky and this guy, he ties her up and she’s expecting hot sex but he starts to tickle her. He jams a sock in her mouth and tickles this fine looking Georgia Peach until she almost rips the damn bed apart. Having this hot babe under him at his mercy, it’s better than sex for this guy.”
JJ flinched as he squeezed her knee.
“Next thing there’s a knock at the door. Now if our guy gets found in this female officer’s room he is in the shit so he does what any well-trained soldier would do. He grabs his shirt, zips his pants and jumps out of a second floor window and escapes to safety. The officer can’t say a thing or she is in deep trouble for fraternisation so no-one comes looking for our guy. It’s best for all concerned if the incident just goes away. But for our guy, a fire has been lit.”
He leaned closer to JJ, their faces were just inches apart.
“He needs to tickle. He freakin’ needs it. Sure he can ball as many chicks as he wants but tickling? That’s the juice for him. That’s what really gets him off.”
JJ shook her head. “You’re delusional.”
He just grinned at her. “Fast forward a couple of years and our guy passes selection for Special Forces. He goes through all sorts of training. Shit you can’t even begin to imagine.”
“I think your imagination is doing duty for both of us, GI Joe.” JJ rolled her eyes.
“He gets trained in interrogation too. Now you see, your average Jihadi, or Colombian druglord or whatever, they figure you break out the baseball bats, strap on the electrodes and go to work. Great for them but if we get caught pulling crap like that, we get zeroed out. Gotta circumvent the Geneva Convention and find another way. That’s where HIT comes in.”
Now JJ was puzzled. “HIT?”
“Yeah, it stands for Humane Interrogation Technology. You can google it if you want but you won’t find any mention of it anywhere. I was one of the first to be trained up in it. Had to go to this mansion in Europe and this weird guy with an eyepatch and his cronies schooled us in HIT. Best training gig of my life, I got 3 squares a day, Egyptian cotton sheets and access to the ticklish bodies of some major hotties. It beat the hell out of SERE school. Naturally I passed with flying colours.”
“You need to seek help. Really. And stop watching so much HBO.” JJ groaned in disbelief.
“Ah JJ, I think you are going to need a more convincing demonstration. You see, I can always tell when someone is bullshitting me.”
His hand slipped below her knee and tracked downwards. He felt the top of her leather boot underneath her jeans and experienced a tingle. Long leather boots always did it for him.
“So I am going to apply my training and tickle you like you wouldn’t believe. You are going to be begging to tell me your deepest and darkest secrets and I am not going to leave a mark on you.”
“You’re sick.” JJ said in disgust. “You are totally deluded.”
His hand was now gently stroking her leather-encased instep.
“Maybe I am, maybe everything I told you was a pack of lies, a deluded fantasy. But even if it isn’t you have no way of ever finding out and I am still going to tickle you anyway.” He said softly.
With great deliberation, he slowly unbuckled the leather strap holding JJ’s ankle against the dark red cushioning of the chair.
“Hey what are you doing…?” JJ pitched forward as much as she could as she felt his strong hands lock around her foot.
He tuned her voice out. The actual words anyway. Her protesting tones were the soundtrack, the mood setter. This was his moment now, he was in the zone. It was all perfect, the woman, the bondage, the tingling excitement that surged through his body. Appetiser, main course, dessert. Perfect.
He maintained a firm grip on her heel and the base of her achilles, squeezing through the leather, feeling the firm flesh beneath. His free hand slid up her boot, under her jeans, rubbing, squeezing. His fingers brushed over the top of the boot and touched her warm smooth skin. He allowed him a secret smile and then located the zipper. He tugged it down slowly. The grating of the little metallic teeth echoed inside his skull.
He loved that sound. He fucking loved it.
The leather slackened as the zipper opened completely. JJ flailed her leg ineffectually but her thigh was still bound snugly to the chair.
Mott pulled the boot away from her foot and his nostrils were assailed with the glorious smells of leather and fragrant female flesh.
He looked at her foot and his excitement grew. It was a size 6, slim, cute little pebble-like toes with clear polish, a high delicate arch and a dear pink globe of a heel. Her skin looked soft and well looked after. Best of all, she was wearing nylons.
Sheer.
Black.
Nylons.
“Oh that’s perfect, absolute fuckin-A perfect. Outstanding, JJ, outstanding!” He breathed, his eyes bulging. He rolled the cuff of her jeans leg up her shin, tracing his fingers underneath to explore the range of her knee-high nylons. He re-fastened the leather strap around her ankle.
He turned to look at her. She was almost out of breath with her fruitless struggling and strands of her long blonde hair were covering her face. Her beautiful blue eyes showed pure fury.
“OK, JJ, sweetheart. I am going to go ahead and get this other boot off and then we can get started.” He smiled and began to unbuckle the strap on her ankle.
Once again she begged, struggled, cursed, pleaded and implored. But Mott was unmoved. He repeated the procedure with the same slow loving attention to detail until both of her nylon clad feet were at his mercy, jeans rolled halfway up her shins. Her feet wiggled and her toes bunched and clenched reflexively.
“Do you know the human foot contains the longest nerves in the body?” Mott asked casually. “Well they do. You wouldn’t believe what I can do with just your feet.”
He ran a nail along the sole of JJ’s left foot, tracing the arch through sheer nylon. He was rewarded with a flinch and a gasp.
“Mmm, I knew you’d be a sensitive one.” He turned his back to JJ and wrapped his arm around her ankles, cupping her rounded heels in his palm.
JJ had been tickled like most people throughout her life. Sometimes it had been fun and sometimes unbearable. Whilst she dismissed the special forces tickle fantasy her abductor was entertaining himself with, she did believe he would tickle her without mercy. He had her feet snuggled into his chest and she knew that she was in trouble.
Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth. “Do what you want but don’t dress this up like you are some sort of interrogator. This is about your fetish, your obsession and I am not going to give you the satisfaction.” Each word was edged in stone.
“Honey, you’re going to be doing all the talking I want in a few minutes so just relax and quit stalling. It’ll all be over a lot quicker and easier for you, hmmm?”
JJ’s heart was beating hard. But why? It was only tickling, why was she so unnerved?
“Listen, you need to…” Her words were cut off with a yelp as Mott raked his nails along her captured soles.
The young woman struggled to maintain her composure. She held her breath as Mott began his tickling in earnest. Only a few seconds and it was maddening! His touch was barely there. She couldn’t see his hand but she could visualise his fingers wriggling slowly against the soles of her nylons, rubbing the material against her soft pink soles.
“You know, JJ.” Mott said casually whilst he played with her soles. “I knew a woman in HIT training. A really hot chica this one. She was one of the instructors, name of Ramirez. She told me don’t be too eager to get a woman’s feet bare. If she has nylons on the tickling can just be amplified through the material. I just love me some nylons.”
“Omigod.” JJ wheezed, she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. She dug her fingernails into her palms but nothing would make the insane sensations in her feet go away.
“What do you think, does she have a point?” He probed gently at her soles. He used slow, gentle strokes to learn her weak spots. Each twitch or squirm spoke volumes to him about her unique sensitivities. She didn’t know it but she was telling him exactly where to touch her and how.
A strangled breath escaped JJ’s lips. She felt her pulse race and an uncomfortable build up of tension that begged to be released. It was only tickling! How could this be possible. She clenched her fists harder and slammed the back of her head into the padded cushioning. The muscles in her arms went taut and shivered with the effort of her resistance. It made no difference.
Mott circled his fingers around the target he had picked out and then jabbed his fingertip in its centre. He pressed a spot that was just below the ball of her right foot and slightly towards the centre, right at the edge of the fleshy pad. He scraped his finger just so, dragging the nylon mesh against the soft skin beneath. JJ didn’t stand a chance and probably would not have felt any better if she had known she never really did. The floodgates broke.
The initial helpless wail of bubbling laughter was music to Mott’s ears. He tightened his grip on the pretty blonde’s captive feet and continued his slow teasing tickles.
JJ screamed at him, she gulped, she giggled she laughed and tears of frustration ran down her glowing cheeks.
Mott peeked over his shoulder, delighted at the sight of the thrashing, helpless FBI agent. Her butt was bouncing up and down and squeaking on the padded leather, her bonds creaked with her struggles but nothing budged.
Mott turned back to the perfect little feet before him and continued wiggling his fingers. He kept it up for what seemed like ages. He exercised his hands specially so they would be sensitive, strong and capable of sustained tickling for hours and that’s certainly what he knew it felt like to JJ.
“Nooo!” She gasped before dissolving into a delightful fit of giggles followed by a lingering wail.
“Yes, yes, yessss!” He sang back in reply.
He checked his G-Shock watch and kept this treatment up for a good quarter of an hour. He could go for much longer but it was a good introduction for JJ to see what he was capable of. As far as he was concerned this was just the appetiser.
As soon as the fifteen minutes were up he released his grip on her feet and spun around to face her, leaning forward, his hands either sides of her slender hips.
“Well how was that for you? I gotta say, and I know it’s a cliché but you look beautiful when you are angry, I bet you just wanna punch my lights out don’t you?”
JJ panted hard, she was out of breath and hot and uncomfortable. Even after the tickling stopped she could almost feel “phantom” fingers still tormenting her feet. Her toes clenched and unclenched of their own volition.
“I think you are sick if this is how you get your kicks.” She hissed somewhat shakily.
“No, JJ. I already told you. This is an interrogation, not me getting my kicks. I don’t think you wanna see me getting my kicks. But anyway, now you’ve had a taste, you have two choices. You can either tell me what I need to know or we can take this to the next level and remember, I’m like a shark looking for blood when it comes to lies. I can tell ‘em a mile away.”
JJ exhaled sharply through her nostrils and with as much composure as she could muster said, “so what is it you want to know?”
Mott’s stare drilled deep into JJ’s wide blue eyes.
“Do you have any names for the suspect.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes in foolhardy defiance, “A million and one. Next?”
Mott shook his head sadly. “See, I tried to give you a break but you obviously want to do this the hard way. Well shit, let’s see who lasts longest shall we?”
He slid off the recliner and moved to a footstool at its base and positioned himself facing her feet. “I wanna see the look in your eyes this time.” He began to wiggle his fingers.
JJ was determined not to give in. She knew what was coming now, it wasn’t so bad, she could fight him.
Mott hunkered down on the footstool, making himself comfortable and used his forefinger and thumb to push through the pliable nylon sheaths encasing JJ’s feet and pinch her big toes together.
“I call this one the waterfall.” He said.
JJ felt her breath shorten in anticipation. Mott was looking at her blankly. He looked down at her feet and spread his fingers across her soles, digging them in just under the pads of her scrunched up toes. Then slowly, maddeningly he wiggled his fingers down her soles, mimicking the falling of water. He traced all the way down to her heels and then moved his feet back to the starting position.
Instantly he felt JJ’s body entire body tense up, it seemed she was almost trying to levitate herself up and escape from his grasp. Fat chance! A strangled gasp escaped from her tightened lips.
“Maddening isn’t it?” Mott replied without breaking his rhythm. It was bad enough that
he was tickling her but he was so calm about it. From the outside it looked like just another day at the office for him.
He pinched the ball of her feet and was rewarded with a strangled gasp and then he saw the lovely blonde begin to shake with silent laughter.
“Ah yes, see, I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out. Just let it out, honey, you’ll feel better and we move this little chat right along.”
“No!” JJ gulped. “Go to hell.”
“Wrong answer.” Mott said softly. His fingers dug in a little harder, the fingertips described tiny circles pressing and probing sheer nylon against sensitive skin. He pulled back sharply on the toes of her left foot, tightening and exposing her arch and raked his fingertips up and down it’s smooth length in a frenzied, spidery fashion.
She broke then. Oh boy did she break. JJ flexed forward and damn near tore the bindings from the chair. Mott was glad he had paid good money to have it re-inforced. His ticklish little captive screamed and wailed with laughter. She needed to release the tension of trying to resist and she thrashed her head from side to side wailing, “No no no,” over and over. Mott wasn’t sure whether she meant no don’t tickle me or no this can’t be happening and in truth he didn’t care.
His response was to go free-form. He ran his fingers all over her feet from her toe tips to the her heel and all around her instep (an area sadly neglected by what he considered amateurs. He, of course, was a true master.)
JJ was going nuts. Mott had placed her in such restrictive bondage that she was incapable of moving much at all and her feet were at his not so tender mercy. She felt her cheeks glowing with heat and beads of sweat ran down her sleek torso, tickling her before soaking into her black turtleneck. This session seemed to be going on longer than the last but she couldn’t really be sure. She knew she was gasping for breath and the edges of her vision were starting to blur.
Mott glanced at his G-Shock again. The sight of his wriggling and squirming captive sent shivers of excitement through his body. He told himself he would keep this up for another five minutes and then ask her again, if she didn’t pass out before then which is what usually happened. He had had women pass out on him before when he was tickling them. When that happened, he just waited for them to wake up and continued.
His eyes flicked from her tortured, wriggling feet to her crazed squirming body. Her beautiful face was wet with tears, her long blonde hair whipped from side to side. It was pure poetry for him.
To his slight admiration, she held on until the five minutes were up. Just barely. But she did. He leaned in close and lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb so he could look into her eyes.
“Let’s try this again. Are there any suspects in the case so far?”
JJ shook her head weakly.
“Details, JJ. I need details. I suggest you make like a chatterbox or what just happened will seem like a picnic.”
“No, no.” JJ wheezed. “It’s not a profile we’ve come across before. The victims all gave wildly different descriptions. Some say you are from Texas, one woman said Europe. We don’t know.”
Mott chuckled. “Well shucks, shugha, ah guess ah’ve managed to fool all them gals?” He said like a true Texan cowboy.
“Or perhaps ze truth lies elsevhere, ja?” Now he was German.
JJ looked at him in bewilderment. His entire body language changed with his voice. He was like a chameleon.
Mott stared deep into JJ’s gorgeous baby blues then gave a small nod. “You were telling the truth though. Good for you. Have a drink.”
He presented the sports bottle to her again and this team she locked her lips around the plastic straw and tried to drain the half-litre container in one gulp.
“Easy, not too fast, we haven’t finished yet.” He pulled the straw from JJ’s mouth and put the bottle aside. “Damn, you really are thirsty.”
“Please, you can let me go now, I told you what you wanted to know.” The bound agent implored.
“Oh we aren’t done yet. I am sure your clever friends are putting a profile together, working out a modus operandi. What have they got?”
“I told you, they can’t lock you down yet. There’s no discernible pattern or timing. Besides, you know I am not a profiler.” She was still panting slightly.
Mott tut-tutted and shook his head. “I told you not to lie to me JJ.”
“No wait, not the feet, come on please, we can…”
“Shut up!” He said sharply, surprising her. “I told you the rules and you broke them so now there’s a penalty.” He returned to the footstool.
“I want to see if Miss Ramirez was right about the nylon thing. So let’s compare.”
He seized JJ’s left foot by the ankle and then grabbed at the nylon encasing her toes. He yanked hard once, twice and then it ripped with a sharp tearing sound. He ripped away, shredding the nylon from her foot and her calf.
JJ realised she was breathing hard at the intensity of his actions.
“Now,” he started, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve got something here which will make this interesting.
He pulled out a small metal rod about three inches long. It had a smooth rounded point and was locked into a small ergonomically designed handle.
“See this? It’s going to really mess your day up. When I rub this on your feet, you are going to tell me everything I want to know.”
JJ gasped as the cold metal point began to lightly circle the pad of her exposed big toe.
“Oooh God,” she cringed, hunching her shoulders as much as she could, “that’s horrible.”
Mott chuckled wickedly and dragged the cold metal point onto the ball of her foot, tracing all over it.
JJ let out a small wavering laugh.
The point tracked the tiny wrinkles that formed along her arch.
The laugh went up an octave.
The point tracked down to her heel, grazing it lightly and precisely.
JJ gulped and gasped
There was a small click as Mott thumbed a small button in the base of the tickling implement.
The point began to vibrate.
JJ screamed with laughter.
Mott was merciless. He worked both feet with his dastardly implement. He ran the metal tip up and down her arches and between her toes. He rubbed it all over the balls and heels of her feet and interspersed this with his fingers.
JJ was apoplectic. She begged for mercy, which did not come, she unleashed curses that fell on deaf ears and all along she unwittingly rewarded her tormentor with the gift of her sweet, sweet laughter. It was torture, unrelenting torture. As she weakened, Mott reached up to pinch at her knees and her thighs, his probing fingers exploiting the weak spots he had long since learned to seek out almost by instinct.
She cried her lungs out, streams of cursed and threats poured forth from her lips as her feet and legs were tickled over and over.
Abruptly the torment stopped, even the little buzzing implement that lavished her feet with tickles fell silent.
JJ was shaking with silent sobbing laughter, totally dishevelled. Even Mott was breathing hard. He wiped a solitary droplet of sweat from the end of his nose.
“Now I am going to ask you again.” He said softly. “What kind of profile do you have?”
JJ sniffled and answered in a shaky voice. She was gulping and gasping like someone who had just jumped into a freezing swimming pool.
“They think you travel a lot for work..you work unusual periods…you’re clever and cunning…They think you are athletic and that you are well integrated into your community. They are trying to narrow down the profession but they think you probably have to travel overseas.”
Mott nodded and smoothed her hair back from her tear-stained face. “See how much easier it is when you tell me the truth.
JJ nodded. “May I have some more water please?”
Mott obliged her, letting her have a long swig from the bottle.
She licked her lips and thanked him. Then she asked, “How much longer are you going to keep me here.”
Mott sighed, “JJ, you’re getting confused. I ask the questions here. I still have a few more and I need to be sure you are going to tell me the truth so I am going to soften you up again.”
He picked up his vibrating tickle tool, thumbed the button again and a small whining buzz filled the room.
“No no,” JJ begged urgently. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be honest with you.”
“I know you will.” Mott murmured, he pressed the metal vibrating tip against JJ’s naked arch and smiled as she let out a high pitched squeal of laughter. He was so glad he had a rechargeable battery for this little tool. It really was worth the money.
…………
Time passes. For JJ it could be minutes, hours or days. She is exhausted, the room is spinning.
She had never experienced anything like it. The helplessness, the torture of his fingers and tools exploring her skin, stimulating her nerve endings, depriving her of her will. His tales of Humane Interrogation Technology no longer seem quite so far fetched.
Her laughter, her pleas still echo inside her own head, shaming her. She never wanted to give him that much but now he knows everything. He has wrung every last detail of the investigation from her in an unceasing flurry of tickling.
He focused on her feet, tormenting their nerve endings to the extent the bewildered blonde almost feels that air currents are tickling her. As the interrogation wore on, he made lightning swift forays to other areas, her ears, her ribs, her hips, her underarms, her tummy. Quick, sneaky pokes and strokes and then back to the main business of tickle torturing her feet.
Gently, almost tenderly Mott reached up and stroked her cheek. “There you go, it’s all over now. I had to be sure though. I had to be thorough. I am sure you understand.”
JJ wasn’t sure she did understand but she simply didn’t have the strength to argue. Her head hung forward and her peripheral vision was obscured by long bedraggled wings of her golden hair.
And then, almost like a heavenly deliverance she heard a clinking sound as he unfastened the straps on her left arm. The bond fell away and her arm dropped limply to her side. She felt she could muster all the strength of a wet noodle. The leather cuffs trapping her right arm fell disappeared and that arm flopped down too. She watched almost disinterestedly as he undid the straps around her thighs and ankles.
He massaged her feet and she flinched. “There, there. No more interrogation for you today. It’s all over.”
A tear of joy ran down JJ’s cheek. “Thank you,” she replied in a small voice. What was she doing? Why was she thanking him? Was this some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?
His massage was soothing and relaxing. She sat up gingerly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “May I have some more water now please?”
“Sure,” he replied, interrupting his massage to give her the bottle. This time she held it weakly for herself and drank as much as she wanted. This was bizzarre. She was sitting here with a wanted serial offender minding her manners and letting him touch her after everything he had done.
At least it was over now. JJ tried to content herself with focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel. A pinprick of light, to be sure, but it was growing.
Mott stood up. “Shall we go?”
“G-go?” JJ echoed uncertainly.
“Yes,” He held his hand out to her. She stood up gingerly only to find she was still weakened from her ordeal. She stumbled but he caught her. “I better help you.”
He quickly and easily picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, he couldn’t resist giving her ass a re-assuring pat.
JJ couldn’t really see where they were going. The interior of the building seemed dark throughout. They went up some stairs and along a short corridor. Mott pushed a door open with his foot and stepped inside the room.
With easy dexterity he slid JJ off his shoulder and into his arms, cradling her. “Here we are.”
JJ looked into the room and her heart nearly stopped. The only piece of furniture in the room was a king size bed with black satin sheets. The wrought iron bedframe was dripping with various restraints and bondage items. She looked back at him in horror.
“But-but, I thought you said you were going to let me go!”
“Nooo. I said the tickle interrogation was over and it is.” He chuckled at her expression. “Haven’t you ever heard of business before pleasure? Down there when I was tickling you, that was all business, baby. Now I’m gonna do it for pure pleasure.”
He relished the look of horror and shock on her face as the realisation that her ordeal was far from over took hold.
He launched her casually onto the middle of the bed. He kicked the door shut behind him and rubbed his hands in glee.
“Oh boy, I am going to enjoy this.”
To be concluded….
JJ groaned slightly as she regained consciousness. She could still smell the odour of the sickly sweet chloroform in her nostrils. She opened her eyes, blinked a few times and saw nothing. Gradually her eyes started to adjust to the gloom and she could make out very vague shapes and outlines. Wherever she was, there was a complete absence of natural light.
Her mouth was incredibly dry. She tried to swallow and then realised there was something jammed in her mouth. She fought a momentary wave of panic before she recognised she had been gagged. It felt like there was a wadded ball of cotton in her mouth and duct tape covering the lower part of her face. She tried to sit up from her half reclining position but couldn’t. She was gagged and tied securely.
The young blonde felt her pulse begin to race. She tried to control her breathing, her nostrils flared in and out.
She was bound to some kind of long recliner. Her arms were pulled out to the sides. Straps just above her elbows kept them there and a set of leather cuffs secured her wrists so they were pointed up toward her head. More thick leather straps were straps buckled snugly over her thighs and ankles keeping them pressed together. Whoever had done this to her wanted to make sure she didn’t go anywhere.
JJ was understandably terrified to find herself in this position. She was also a trained FBI agent and she hadn’t passed through selection at Quantico without considerable mental strength. With grim humour she consoled herself with the thought that she wasn’t dead yet and while she drew breath she always had a chance. People would realise she was missing and come looking for her and her colleagues in the Bureau were world-class specialists in that area, especially when one of their own was in harm’s way.
She maintained this positive internal dialogue, calming herself to the point where she could practically hear the operators from HRT fixing their rappelling lines and prepping to fast rope down and rescue her. No, she was down but definitely not out.
A floorboard creaked behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down her side and soak into her turtleneck.
“Hey there, did you sleep well?” His voice was slightly mocking.
JJ felt a hand land lightly on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. He moved around to face her. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have gasped.
She was sure she was looking at the man from the van but the red beard and hair had gone. He wore a close fitting matte black mask over his face. His pale grey eyes were visible, as were his nose and mouth. He was also wearing a black long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He was the classic stalker, the assailant, the pervert all urban females dread in their nightmares.
JJ fought to regain her composure at the sight of him, again her training kicked in. If he was masked it was because he didn’t want her to tell anyone what he looked like. That meant right now he didn’t plan to kill her. So she was alive and he didn’t plan to kill her. She tried to focus on those points as positives.
Her captor sat on the side of the recliner and looked at her. She saw he was fit, lean and hard looking and when he grinned he was positively wolf-like. She felt a shiver run down her spine.
“I am going to take your gag off now and you are not to scream or yell.” He said calmly. “It will do you no good to call for help, believe me, no-one will hear. If you disobey way I will gag you again and then I will blindfold you and block your ears too. You don’t want that do you.”
JJ’s blue eyes blazed with defiance but she shook her head once.
“Good girl. Gently, he peeled the layers of black duct tape from her mouth and then removed the wadded ball of cotton. The items were slipped into a plastic ziploc bag and then they disappeared out of sight.
JJ worked her tongue around her mouth and licked her lips, trying to dispel some of the dryness. The man in the mask offered her water from a blue sports bottle. She shook her head. The man in the mask rolled his eyes, sucked from the straw and offered it to her again.
“If I wanted to drug you or do any damn other thing to you I would have done it already. Drink.”
Hesitantly JJ leaned forward and sipped from the straw. She tasted only cool water and sucked greedily before he pulled the water away.
“Uh-uh. That was free, you will have to earn everything else.”
“Earn?” She said enquiringly.
The wolfish grin returned but no answer was forthcoming.
“I hear the pointy heads in the BAU have been brought into look for me. I am mildly flattered.”
“Well we have been looking for some weird little perv who likes abducting women, tickling them.”
“Really, a weird little perv you say?”
“That’s right,” JJ replied, her jaw set. She wasn’t a profiler, she knew it probably wasn’t a good idea but she was pissed. “You know the kind of guy, goes around sniffing bicycle seats. Can’t maintain a normal relationship with a woman.”
He looked mildly abashed and retorted mockingly, “Agent Jareau, you hurt my feelings.”
The bastard was laughing at her. JJ was furious.
“Look I can’t keep calling you Agent Jareau, it’s way too formal for this intimate little setting. Your friends call you JJ, right? You can call me Mott.” It sounded like Mott to her. She filed the name away.
“Yeah, but we’re not friends. I am a federal agent. You kidnapped me and you are in a world of trouble.”
“Well, ok then, JJ,” He stood up and began to circle her, pacing slowly, “but before we get to that, I need to get something off my chest.”
He stood in front of her and held his hands out, wrists together. “For as long as I can remember I have been taking women against their will and tickling them for my own lurid gratification. I am turning myself in, are you going to arrest me?”
JJ tugged at the bonds locking her body into the recliner, which she had decided was some kind of modified dentist’s chair.
“No? not interested?” He said, feigning surprise. He waved dismissively, let’s forget it then. I guess I may as well continue on my merry rampage but before that I would love to know what the big brains at the BAU know.”
“Well, why don’t you ask them?” JJ shot back. If you know so much about us, you know I am the media liaison. Not a profiler, not a field agent.”
The man in the mask scratched his chin. “Yeah, I suppose I could have taken, what’s his name, Gideon? Or even that stuffed shirt Agent Hotchner but where’s the fun in that? Besides, you have a much nicer rack.” His gaze dropped to the front of JJ’s tight turtleneck. Her chest was pushed forward by the way her arms were bound and she squirmed as his eyes crawled over her body.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, like I said, if I had wanted to do anything like that I could have and would have.”
“Forgive me if I am not totally re-assured by a masked man who assaulted, drugged and kidnapped a federal agent and admits to being a serial abductor.” JJ fumed.
“I’m going to tell you a story.” He said, ignoring her. “It’s about a kid growing up in a small town like millions of small towns across America.”
His hand landed lightly on her denim-clad thigh and squeezed her smooth quads.
“He’s a smart kid but he’s easily bored and his folks don’t have money for college so when he’s old enough he joins the army. He excels, training is a breeze for him and being a handsome devil, well the ladies love a man in uniform.”
JJ was silent now, listening intently. Should she even believe him?
“So one night this military stud finds this fine young female officer in a bar off-base. She’s a southern gal, brunette, brown eyes, ass to die for. They have a few drinks, dance, start making out. I’m sure you know how it is.”
He looked at JJ for a response, his hand slid down her leg and traced the shape of her knee through her jeans
“They go back to her quarters, very naughty. They start fooling around. Things get a little kinky and this guy, he ties her up and she’s expecting hot sex but he starts to tickle her. He jams a sock in her mouth and tickles this fine looking Georgia Peach until she almost rips the damn bed apart. Having this hot babe under him at his mercy, it’s better than sex for this guy.”
JJ flinched as he squeezed her knee.
“Next thing there’s a knock at the door. Now if our guy gets found in this female officer’s room he is in the shit so he does what any well-trained soldier would do. He grabs his shirt, zips his pants and jumps out of a second floor window and escapes to safety. The officer can’t say a thing or she is in deep trouble for fraternisation so no-one comes looking for our guy. It’s best for all concerned if the incident just goes away. But for our guy, a fire has been lit.”
He leaned closer to JJ, their faces were just inches apart.
“He needs to tickle. He freakin’ needs it. Sure he can ball as many chicks as he wants but tickling? That’s the juice for him. That’s what really gets him off.”
JJ shook her head. “You’re delusional.”
He just grinned at her. “Fast forward a couple of years and our guy passes selection for Special Forces. He goes through all sorts of training. Shit you can’t even begin to imagine.”
“I think your imagination is doing duty for both of us, GI Joe.” JJ rolled her eyes.
“He gets trained in interrogation too. Now you see, your average Jihadi, or Colombian druglord or whatever, they figure you break out the baseball bats, strap on the electrodes and go to work. Great for them but if we get caught pulling crap like that, we get zeroed out. Gotta circumvent the Geneva Convention and find another way. That’s where HIT comes in.”
Now JJ was puzzled. “HIT?”
“Yeah, it stands for Humane Interrogation Technology. You can google it if you want but you won’t find any mention of it anywhere. I was one of the first to be trained up in it. Had to go to this mansion in Europe and this weird guy with an eyepatch and his cronies schooled us in HIT. Best training gig of my life, I got 3 squares a day, Egyptian cotton sheets and access to the ticklish bodies of some major hotties. It beat the hell out of SERE school. Naturally I passed with flying colours.”
“You need to seek help. Really. And stop watching so much HBO.” JJ groaned in disbelief.
“Ah JJ, I think you are going to need a more convincing demonstration. You see, I can always tell when someone is bullshitting me.”
His hand slipped below her knee and tracked downwards. He felt the top of her leather boot underneath her jeans and experienced a tingle. Long leather boots always did it for him.
“So I am going to apply my training and tickle you like you wouldn’t believe. You are going to be begging to tell me your deepest and darkest secrets and I am not going to leave a mark on you.”
“You’re sick.” JJ said in disgust. “You are totally deluded.”
His hand was now gently stroking her leather-encased instep.
“Maybe I am, maybe everything I told you was a pack of lies, a deluded fantasy. But even if it isn’t you have no way of ever finding out and I am still going to tickle you anyway.” He said softly.
With great deliberation, he slowly unbuckled the leather strap holding JJ’s ankle against the dark red cushioning of the chair.
“Hey what are you doing…?” JJ pitched forward as much as she could as she felt his strong hands lock around her foot.
He tuned her voice out. The actual words anyway. Her protesting tones were the soundtrack, the mood setter. This was his moment now, he was in the zone. It was all perfect, the woman, the bondage, the tingling excitement that surged through his body. Appetiser, main course, dessert. Perfect.
He maintained a firm grip on her heel and the base of her achilles, squeezing through the leather, feeling the firm flesh beneath. His free hand slid up her boot, under her jeans, rubbing, squeezing. His fingers brushed over the top of the boot and touched her warm smooth skin. He allowed him a secret smile and then located the zipper. He tugged it down slowly. The grating of the little metallic teeth echoed inside his skull.
He loved that sound. He fucking loved it.
The leather slackened as the zipper opened completely. JJ flailed her leg ineffectually but her thigh was still bound snugly to the chair.
Mott pulled the boot away from her foot and his nostrils were assailed with the glorious smells of leather and fragrant female flesh.
He looked at her foot and his excitement grew. It was a size 6, slim, cute little pebble-like toes with clear polish, a high delicate arch and a dear pink globe of a heel. Her skin looked soft and well looked after. Best of all, she was wearing nylons.
Sheer.
Black.
Nylons.
“Oh that’s perfect, absolute fuckin-A perfect. Outstanding, JJ, outstanding!” He breathed, his eyes bulging. He rolled the cuff of her jeans leg up her shin, tracing his fingers underneath to explore the range of her knee-high nylons. He re-fastened the leather strap around her ankle.
He turned to look at her. She was almost out of breath with her fruitless struggling and strands of her long blonde hair were covering her face. Her beautiful blue eyes showed pure fury.
“OK, JJ, sweetheart. I am going to go ahead and get this other boot off and then we can get started.” He smiled and began to unbuckle the strap on her ankle.
Once again she begged, struggled, cursed, pleaded and implored. But Mott was unmoved. He repeated the procedure with the same slow loving attention to detail until both of her nylon clad feet were at his mercy, jeans rolled halfway up her shins. Her feet wiggled and her toes bunched and clenched reflexively.
“Do you know the human foot contains the longest nerves in the body?” Mott asked casually. “Well they do. You wouldn’t believe what I can do with just your feet.”
He ran a nail along the sole of JJ’s left foot, tracing the arch through sheer nylon. He was rewarded with a flinch and a gasp.
“Mmm, I knew you’d be a sensitive one.” He turned his back to JJ and wrapped his arm around her ankles, cupping her rounded heels in his palm.
JJ had been tickled like most people throughout her life. Sometimes it had been fun and sometimes unbearable. Whilst she dismissed the special forces tickle fantasy her abductor was entertaining himself with, she did believe he would tickle her without mercy. He had her feet snuggled into his chest and she knew that she was in trouble.
Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth. “Do what you want but don’t dress this up like you are some sort of interrogator. This is about your fetish, your obsession and I am not going to give you the satisfaction.” Each word was edged in stone.
“Honey, you’re going to be doing all the talking I want in a few minutes so just relax and quit stalling. It’ll all be over a lot quicker and easier for you, hmmm?”
JJ’s heart was beating hard. But why? It was only tickling, why was she so unnerved?
“Listen, you need to…” Her words were cut off with a yelp as Mott raked his nails along her captured soles.
The young woman struggled to maintain her composure. She held her breath as Mott began his tickling in earnest. Only a few seconds and it was maddening! His touch was barely there. She couldn’t see his hand but she could visualise his fingers wriggling slowly against the soles of her nylons, rubbing the material against her soft pink soles.
“You know, JJ.” Mott said casually whilst he played with her soles. “I knew a woman in HIT training. A really hot chica this one. She was one of the instructors, name of Ramirez. She told me don’t be too eager to get a woman’s feet bare. If she has nylons on the tickling can just be amplified through the material. I just love me some nylons.”
“Omigod.” JJ wheezed, she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. She dug her fingernails into her palms but nothing would make the insane sensations in her feet go away.
“What do you think, does she have a point?” He probed gently at her soles. He used slow, gentle strokes to learn her weak spots. Each twitch or squirm spoke volumes to him about her unique sensitivities. She didn’t know it but she was telling him exactly where to touch her and how.
A strangled breath escaped JJ’s lips. She felt her pulse race and an uncomfortable build up of tension that begged to be released. It was only tickling! How could this be possible. She clenched her fists harder and slammed the back of her head into the padded cushioning. The muscles in her arms went taut and shivered with the effort of her resistance. It made no difference.
Mott circled his fingers around the target he had picked out and then jabbed his fingertip in its centre. He pressed a spot that was just below the ball of her right foot and slightly towards the centre, right at the edge of the fleshy pad. He scraped his finger just so, dragging the nylon mesh against the soft skin beneath. JJ didn’t stand a chance and probably would not have felt any better if she had known she never really did. The floodgates broke.
The initial helpless wail of bubbling laughter was music to Mott’s ears. He tightened his grip on the pretty blonde’s captive feet and continued his slow teasing tickles.
JJ screamed at him, she gulped, she giggled she laughed and tears of frustration ran down her glowing cheeks.
Mott peeked over his shoulder, delighted at the sight of the thrashing, helpless FBI agent. Her butt was bouncing up and down and squeaking on the padded leather, her bonds creaked with her struggles but nothing budged.
Mott turned back to the perfect little feet before him and continued wiggling his fingers. He kept it up for what seemed like ages. He exercised his hands specially so they would be sensitive, strong and capable of sustained tickling for hours and that’s certainly what he knew it felt like to JJ.
“Nooo!” She gasped before dissolving into a delightful fit of giggles followed by a lingering wail.
“Yes, yes, yessss!” He sang back in reply.
He checked his G-Shock watch and kept this treatment up for a good quarter of an hour. He could go for much longer but it was a good introduction for JJ to see what he was capable of. As far as he was concerned this was just the appetiser.
As soon as the fifteen minutes were up he released his grip on her feet and spun around to face her, leaning forward, his hands either sides of her slender hips.
“Well how was that for you? I gotta say, and I know it’s a cliché but you look beautiful when you are angry, I bet you just wanna punch my lights out don’t you?”
JJ panted hard, she was out of breath and hot and uncomfortable. Even after the tickling stopped she could almost feel “phantom” fingers still tormenting her feet. Her toes clenched and unclenched of their own volition.
“I think you are sick if this is how you get your kicks.” She hissed somewhat shakily.
“No, JJ. I already told you. This is an interrogation, not me getting my kicks. I don’t think you wanna see me getting my kicks. But anyway, now you’ve had a taste, you have two choices. You can either tell me what I need to know or we can take this to the next level and remember, I’m like a shark looking for blood when it comes to lies. I can tell ‘em a mile away.”
JJ exhaled sharply through her nostrils and with as much composure as she could muster said, “so what is it you want to know?”
Mott’s stare drilled deep into JJ’s wide blue eyes.
“Do you have any names for the suspect.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes in foolhardy defiance, “A million and one. Next?”
Mott shook his head sadly. “See, I tried to give you a break but you obviously want to do this the hard way. Well shit, let’s see who lasts longest shall we?”
He slid off the recliner and moved to a footstool at its base and positioned himself facing her feet. “I wanna see the look in your eyes this time.” He began to wiggle his fingers.
JJ was determined not to give in. She knew what was coming now, it wasn’t so bad, she could fight him.
Mott hunkered down on the footstool, making himself comfortable and used his forefinger and thumb to push through the pliable nylon sheaths encasing JJ’s feet and pinch her big toes together.
“I call this one the waterfall.” He said.
JJ felt her breath shorten in anticipation. Mott was looking at her blankly. He looked down at her feet and spread his fingers across her soles, digging them in just under the pads of her scrunched up toes. Then slowly, maddeningly he wiggled his fingers down her soles, mimicking the falling of water. He traced all the way down to her heels and then moved his feet back to the starting position.
Instantly he felt JJ’s body entire body tense up, it seemed she was almost trying to levitate herself up and escape from his grasp. Fat chance! A strangled gasp escaped from her tightened lips.
“Maddening isn’t it?” Mott replied without breaking his rhythm. It was bad enough that
he was tickling her but he was so calm about it. From the outside it looked like just another day at the office for him.
He pinched the ball of her feet and was rewarded with a strangled gasp and then he saw the lovely blonde begin to shake with silent laughter.
“Ah yes, see, I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold out. Just let it out, honey, you’ll feel better and we move this little chat right along.”
“No!” JJ gulped. “Go to hell.”
“Wrong answer.” Mott said softly. His fingers dug in a little harder, the fingertips described tiny circles pressing and probing sheer nylon against sensitive skin. He pulled back sharply on the toes of her left foot, tightening and exposing her arch and raked his fingertips up and down it’s smooth length in a frenzied, spidery fashion.
She broke then. Oh boy did she break. JJ flexed forward and damn near tore the bindings from the chair. Mott was glad he had paid good money to have it re-inforced. His ticklish little captive screamed and wailed with laughter. She needed to release the tension of trying to resist and she thrashed her head from side to side wailing, “No no no,” over and over. Mott wasn’t sure whether she meant no don’t tickle me or no this can’t be happening and in truth he didn’t care.
His response was to go free-form. He ran his fingers all over her feet from her toe tips to the her heel and all around her instep (an area sadly neglected by what he considered amateurs. He, of course, was a true master.)
JJ was going nuts. Mott had placed her in such restrictive bondage that she was incapable of moving much at all and her feet were at his not so tender mercy. She felt her cheeks glowing with heat and beads of sweat ran down her sleek torso, tickling her before soaking into her black turtleneck. This session seemed to be going on longer than the last but she couldn’t really be sure. She knew she was gasping for breath and the edges of her vision were starting to blur.
Mott glanced at his G-Shock again. The sight of his wriggling and squirming captive sent shivers of excitement through his body. He told himself he would keep this up for another five minutes and then ask her again, if she didn’t pass out before then which is what usually happened. He had had women pass out on him before when he was tickling them. When that happened, he just waited for them to wake up and continued.
His eyes flicked from her tortured, wriggling feet to her crazed squirming body. Her beautiful face was wet with tears, her long blonde hair whipped from side to side. It was pure poetry for him.
To his slight admiration, she held on until the five minutes were up. Just barely. But she did. He leaned in close and lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb so he could look into her eyes.
“Let’s try this again. Are there any suspects in the case so far?”
JJ shook her head weakly.
“Details, JJ. I need details. I suggest you make like a chatterbox or what just happened will seem like a picnic.”
“No, no.” JJ wheezed. “It’s not a profile we’ve come across before. The victims all gave wildly different descriptions. Some say you are from Texas, one woman said Europe. We don’t know.”
Mott chuckled. “Well shucks, shugha, ah guess ah’ve managed to fool all them gals?” He said like a true Texan cowboy.
“Or perhaps ze truth lies elsevhere, ja?” Now he was German.
JJ looked at him in bewilderment. His entire body language changed with his voice. He was like a chameleon.
Mott stared deep into JJ’s gorgeous baby blues then gave a small nod. “You were telling the truth though. Good for you. Have a drink.”
He presented the sports bottle to her again and this team she locked her lips around the plastic straw and tried to drain the half-litre container in one gulp.
“Easy, not too fast, we haven’t finished yet.” He pulled the straw from JJ’s mouth and put the bottle aside. “Damn, you really are thirsty.”
“Please, you can let me go now, I told you what you wanted to know.” The bound agent implored.
“Oh we aren’t done yet. I am sure your clever friends are putting a profile together, working out a modus operandi. What have they got?”
“I told you, they can’t lock you down yet. There’s no discernible pattern or timing. Besides, you know I am not a profiler.” She was still panting slightly.
Mott tut-tutted and shook his head. “I told you not to lie to me JJ.”
“No wait, not the feet, come on please, we can…”
“Shut up!” He said sharply, surprising her. “I told you the rules and you broke them so now there’s a penalty.” He returned to the footstool.
“I want to see if Miss Ramirez was right about the nylon thing. So let’s compare.”
He seized JJ’s left foot by the ankle and then grabbed at the nylon encasing her toes. He yanked hard once, twice and then it ripped with a sharp tearing sound. He ripped away, shredding the nylon from her foot and her calf.
JJ realised she was breathing hard at the intensity of his actions.
“Now,” he started, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve got something here which will make this interesting.
He pulled out a small metal rod about three inches long. It had a smooth rounded point and was locked into a small ergonomically designed handle.
“See this? It’s going to really mess your day up. When I rub this on your feet, you are going to tell me everything I want to know.”
JJ gasped as the cold metal point began to lightly circle the pad of her exposed big toe.
“Oooh God,” she cringed, hunching her shoulders as much as she could, “that’s horrible.”
Mott chuckled wickedly and dragged the cold metal point onto the ball of her foot, tracing all over it.
JJ let out a small wavering laugh.
The point tracked the tiny wrinkles that formed along her arch.
The laugh went up an octave.
The point tracked down to her heel, grazing it lightly and precisely.
JJ gulped and gasped
There was a small click as Mott thumbed a small button in the base of the tickling implement.
The point began to vibrate.
JJ screamed with laughter.
Mott was merciless. He worked both feet with his dastardly implement. He ran the metal tip up and down her arches and between her toes. He rubbed it all over the balls and heels of her feet and interspersed this with his fingers.
JJ was apoplectic. She begged for mercy, which did not come, she unleashed curses that fell on deaf ears and all along she unwittingly rewarded her tormentor with the gift of her sweet, sweet laughter. It was torture, unrelenting torture. As she weakened, Mott reached up to pinch at her knees and her thighs, his probing fingers exploiting the weak spots he had long since learned to seek out almost by instinct.
She cried her lungs out, streams of cursed and threats poured forth from her lips as her feet and legs were tickled over and over.
Abruptly the torment stopped, even the little buzzing implement that lavished her feet with tickles fell silent.
JJ was shaking with silent sobbing laughter, totally dishevelled. Even Mott was breathing hard. He wiped a solitary droplet of sweat from the end of his nose.
“Now I am going to ask you again.” He said softly. “What kind of profile do you have?”
JJ sniffled and answered in a shaky voice. She was gulping and gasping like someone who had just jumped into a freezing swimming pool.
“They think you travel a lot for work..you work unusual periods…you’re clever and cunning…They think you are athletic and that you are well integrated into your community. They are trying to narrow down the profession but they think you probably have to travel overseas.”
Mott nodded and smoothed her hair back from her tear-stained face. “See how much easier it is when you tell me the truth.
JJ nodded. “May I have some more water please?”
Mott obliged her, letting her have a long swig from the bottle.
She licked her lips and thanked him. Then she asked, “How much longer are you going to keep me here.”
Mott sighed, “JJ, you’re getting confused. I ask the questions here. I still have a few more and I need to be sure you are going to tell me the truth so I am going to soften you up again.”
He picked up his vibrating tickle tool, thumbed the button again and a small whining buzz filled the room.
“No no,” JJ begged urgently. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be honest with you.”
“I know you will.” Mott murmured, he pressed the metal vibrating tip against JJ’s naked arch and smiled as she let out a high pitched squeal of laughter. He was so glad he had a rechargeable battery for this little tool. It really was worth the money.
…………
Time passes. For JJ it could be minutes, hours or days. She is exhausted, the room is spinning.
She had never experienced anything like it. The helplessness, the torture of his fingers and tools exploring her skin, stimulating her nerve endings, depriving her of her will. His tales of Humane Interrogation Technology no longer seem quite so far fetched.
Her laughter, her pleas still echo inside her own head, shaming her. She never wanted to give him that much but now he knows everything. He has wrung every last detail of the investigation from her in an unceasing flurry of tickling.
He focused on her feet, tormenting their nerve endings to the extent the bewildered blonde almost feels that air currents are tickling her. As the interrogation wore on, he made lightning swift forays to other areas, her ears, her ribs, her hips, her underarms, her tummy. Quick, sneaky pokes and strokes and then back to the main business of tickle torturing her feet.
Gently, almost tenderly Mott reached up and stroked her cheek. “There you go, it’s all over now. I had to be sure though. I had to be thorough. I am sure you understand.”
JJ wasn’t sure she did understand but she simply didn’t have the strength to argue. Her head hung forward and her peripheral vision was obscured by long bedraggled wings of her golden hair.
And then, almost like a heavenly deliverance she heard a clinking sound as he unfastened the straps on her left arm. The bond fell away and her arm dropped limply to her side. She felt she could muster all the strength of a wet noodle. The leather cuffs trapping her right arm fell disappeared and that arm flopped down too. She watched almost disinterestedly as he undid the straps around her thighs and ankles.
He massaged her feet and she flinched. “There, there. No more interrogation for you today. It’s all over.”
A tear of joy ran down JJ’s cheek. “Thank you,” she replied in a small voice. What was she doing? Why was she thanking him? Was this some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?
His massage was soothing and relaxing. She sat up gingerly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “May I have some more water now please?”
“Sure,” he replied, interrupting his massage to give her the bottle. This time she held it weakly for herself and drank as much as she wanted. This was bizzarre. She was sitting here with a wanted serial offender minding her manners and letting him touch her after everything he had done.
At least it was over now. JJ tried to content herself with focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel. A pinprick of light, to be sure, but it was growing.
Mott stood up. “Shall we go?”
“G-go?” JJ echoed uncertainly.
“Yes,” He held his hand out to her. She stood up gingerly only to find she was still weakened from her ordeal. She stumbled but he caught her. “I better help you.”
He quickly and easily picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, he couldn’t resist giving her ass a re-assuring pat.
JJ couldn’t really see where they were going. The interior of the building seemed dark throughout. They went up some stairs and along a short corridor. Mott pushed a door open with his foot and stepped inside the room.
With easy dexterity he slid JJ off his shoulder and into his arms, cradling her. “Here we are.”
JJ looked into the room and her heart nearly stopped. The only piece of furniture in the room was a king size bed with black satin sheets. The wrought iron bedframe was dripping with various restraints and bondage items. She looked back at him in horror.
“But-but, I thought you said you were going to let me go!”
“Nooo. I said the tickle interrogation was over and it is.” He chuckled at her expression. “Haven’t you ever heard of business before pleasure? Down there when I was tickling you, that was all business, baby. Now I’m gonna do it for pure pleasure.”
He relished the look of horror and shock on her face as the realisation that her ordeal was far from over took hold.
He launched her casually onto the middle of the bed. He kicked the door shut behind him and rubbed his hands in glee.
“Oh boy, I am going to enjoy this.”
To be concluded….
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). Your dialogue is very real, the torture was smokin and I looooooooovvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeee the ending!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
