Ticklish_Mercy
02-24-2009, 08:21 PM
Hello. It's been ages since I posted a story, and people were most kind, so I thought I'd give it another bash.
This particular story was written for a friend, so the theme is quite specific; hopefully others will enjoy it too.
**** This contains sexual themes and non consensual tickling. All characters are over 18. ****
The Scent of Change, by Mercy
Bill Johnson, deep in thought, surveyed the computer screen before him and sighed as a pile of documents toppled over,splaying across the discs worth more than his house. He'd been working on the files for months, long hours, often sleeping in the office,to complete the priceless information stored on them. He knew it was important work, but god, was it boring.
Bill was only 45, not old by his standards, but he was beginning to feel like a man of 60. Never married and childless, he worked almost constantly and liked fishing in his limited spare time. A real action man, thought Bill morosely. Life had become somewhat of a bore lately, he thought. When did he turn from a bright,handsome teenager into a cardigan wearing, boring computer geek?
'I need some bloody excitement,' He mused aloud to the empty office. The clock read 9pm. Bill tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that anyone with a life would have been home hours ago.
A strange noise roused him from his dark thoughts. A sort of...scraping sound. A rat? Bill felt a flutter of panic in his stomach. He wasn't a rodent fan.
The sound came again,and this time Bill realised it was coming from the back of the room,in the ceiling. The air vent? Rats wouldn't be in the ceiling surely?
Rising slowly from his chair, Bill started towards the dark corner where the air vent was. His mind raced furiously over the possibilities. A bat? He liked bats about as much as rats. There was a whole crawl space behind the vent...could it be a person? A burgler? Someone after the files? At this thought, Bill stiffened and looked around for a weapon of some kind. Alas, his office wasn't exactly awash with baseball bats and pepper spray. Grabbing a broken lamp from the supply closet, he gripped it tightly as he edged towards the vent,looking cautiously upwards. Then, he heard a sneeze.
Bill froze. Then followed a slight cough,as if someone was trying very, very hard to hold it in. There was something odd about the cough, Bill thought. It didn't sound like a 6 foot brick shithouse, hellbent on burgling his computer equipment. It sounded like a female.
Being an old-fashioned sort, Bill immediately felt braver. Reaching up to the vent, he yanked it open, and abruptly jumped backwards as a pair of legs swung out accompanied by a girlish yelp. The girls' legs dangled,an inch or so from the ground, her wrists appeared to be tangled round her hooded jacket and some coarse material-a bag?-which was in turn wrapped a round a rope, leading into the vent. Stepping closer, Bill saw another rope, tied originally, he imagined, around the girls waist. During the fall,it had slipped upwards to her upper arms, leaving her arms pulled overhead and stuck fast. The ropes had also pulled the girls clothing up, exposing a curvy bare stomach and a pretty patterned bra, nicely filled.
Bill felt himself blushing hard as he stepped forward to free the girl,who was gasping and struggling to untangle herself. And then he stopped. He looked again at the thief, through new eyes.
She was petite, about 5'4, and small built. He saw long red hair tied in a ponytail, fierce green eyes and a pretty face. Her shirt was bunched around her neck and shoulders, exposing her bra covered breasts, and a smooth, bare midriff. Bill felt his eyes drawn to the girls bare, shaven armpits, stretched tight as drums by her unfortunate position. The tight black jeans she wore were covered in dust and grime, and her biker boots caked in mud. She was after my equipment, thought Bill angrily,who was feeling most unlike himself.
'Who the hell are you?' He heard himself ask,in a most unBill-like way.
'Get..me down!' yelled the intruder, struggling profusely,and making the ropes tighten even more..
'You came to rob me?' He asked quietly,stepping closer.
'Just get me down, Grandad!' The girl spat, wriggling furiously.
A strange sensation washed over Bill as he again felt his eyes drawn to the girls bare, vulnerable looking armpits. Before he knew what he was doing,he had grabbed the girls shirt from around her neck,and tucked it tightly into her mouth,gagging her. The girl protested loudly of course, but Bill only heard a faint mmphing above the sound of his own heartbeat.
'Thought you could just in and rip me off huh?' He demanded, excitement coursing through his veins as he realised what he was going to do. 'Big mistake, kid. Big mistake.'
Reaching forward, he rested his fingertips, feather light,on the girls bare, heaving sides. He stroked lightly, up and down,from hip to the top of the ribs.
The girl shrieked loudly and furiously behind her gag, and Bill smiled evilly. Until right now, Bill didn't think he had ever smiled in such a way his whole life.
'Wouldn't happen to be ticklish would you?' He asked as his fingers fluttered up and down the girls sides. From the squirming and muffled squeaks coming his way, Bill figured it for a yes.
Feeling more fired up than he had in years, Bill abandoned the feathery strokes for some out and out rib tickling. He stiffened his fingers and began to vibrate, poke and wriggle them up and down both sides of the girl's soft ribs.
The redhead began cackling with wild, helpless laughter as Bill's fingers worked, up and down and around her ticklish sides. Muffled squeals and what may have been cries for mercy were muffled securely by her shirt as Bill tickled her creamy sides like a demon. For the first time in his life, he felt not a shred of pity. Only lust, and power.
Bill felt his trousers tighten over his crotch as he poked and wormed his fingers into the wriggling set of ribs before him.
'So helpless....so stupid,' He taunted,as his flying fingers worked up towards the smooth, creamy armpits he'd been staring at since the girl had fallen into his lap.
Bill wasn't so far gone that he didn't hear the girl's screams rise in intensity and desperation as he neared the pale hollows of her underarms. Bill's erection was in severe danger of exploding out of his corduroys as he began to spider tickle both the girl's soft pits.
Screaming,desperate laughter burst from the captive as long, thin fingers began to tickle the shaved smooth curves of her hyperticklish armpits. Long, wracking muffled laughs filled Bill's head as he worked, fingers flying and delving into the softest underarms he had ever seen or touched. Stepping closer, he wrapped one arm around the screaming girl's waist, pressing his almost painful erection against her thigh as his other hand scratched and fluttered against the soft, tender underarm flesh.
Bill hadn't felt so alive in years, and didn't think he could stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the silky feeling of this stranger's smooth, warm armpit, the screaming, agonised laughter he was pulling from her lungs, the wriggling, struggling pressure against his rock hard groin.
Bill had no idea when he started licking the exposed armpit of the screaming girl, except that when he licked slowly into the centre of the warm, cherry scented hollow, the girls screams became almost painful to hear. He had even less idea how he managed to continue tickling the other armpit with his dexterous fingers as he clutched the girl's struggling body.
Even after he felt the glorious release of pressure in his loins against her thigh, he couldn't get enough of the sweet scent and taste of the young girls ticklish armpit, couldn't stop his tongue worming into the centre of it, even as the caretaker yelled his name, even as the police grabbed his arms and tried to pull him away, even as the girl lost consciousness and hung limply, still Bill Johnson licked and tickled and licked and tickled those ticklish underarms and sides, the ones that woke him from his mundane life, the ones that haunted his dreams every night thereafter.
Bill lay quietly in his cell and was grateful. He felt alive. He felt powerful. And he only had 1 year left. 365 days until he would walk free, and seek out those cherry scented ticklish hollows.
:firedevil
This particular story was written for a friend, so the theme is quite specific; hopefully others will enjoy it too.
**** This contains sexual themes and non consensual tickling. All characters are over 18. ****
The Scent of Change, by Mercy
Bill Johnson, deep in thought, surveyed the computer screen before him and sighed as a pile of documents toppled over,splaying across the discs worth more than his house. He'd been working on the files for months, long hours, often sleeping in the office,to complete the priceless information stored on them. He knew it was important work, but god, was it boring.
Bill was only 45, not old by his standards, but he was beginning to feel like a man of 60. Never married and childless, he worked almost constantly and liked fishing in his limited spare time. A real action man, thought Bill morosely. Life had become somewhat of a bore lately, he thought. When did he turn from a bright,handsome teenager into a cardigan wearing, boring computer geek?
'I need some bloody excitement,' He mused aloud to the empty office. The clock read 9pm. Bill tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that anyone with a life would have been home hours ago.
A strange noise roused him from his dark thoughts. A sort of...scraping sound. A rat? Bill felt a flutter of panic in his stomach. He wasn't a rodent fan.
The sound came again,and this time Bill realised it was coming from the back of the room,in the ceiling. The air vent? Rats wouldn't be in the ceiling surely?
Rising slowly from his chair, Bill started towards the dark corner where the air vent was. His mind raced furiously over the possibilities. A bat? He liked bats about as much as rats. There was a whole crawl space behind the vent...could it be a person? A burgler? Someone after the files? At this thought, Bill stiffened and looked around for a weapon of some kind. Alas, his office wasn't exactly awash with baseball bats and pepper spray. Grabbing a broken lamp from the supply closet, he gripped it tightly as he edged towards the vent,looking cautiously upwards. Then, he heard a sneeze.
Bill froze. Then followed a slight cough,as if someone was trying very, very hard to hold it in. There was something odd about the cough, Bill thought. It didn't sound like a 6 foot brick shithouse, hellbent on burgling his computer equipment. It sounded like a female.
Being an old-fashioned sort, Bill immediately felt braver. Reaching up to the vent, he yanked it open, and abruptly jumped backwards as a pair of legs swung out accompanied by a girlish yelp. The girls' legs dangled,an inch or so from the ground, her wrists appeared to be tangled round her hooded jacket and some coarse material-a bag?-which was in turn wrapped a round a rope, leading into the vent. Stepping closer, Bill saw another rope, tied originally, he imagined, around the girls waist. During the fall,it had slipped upwards to her upper arms, leaving her arms pulled overhead and stuck fast. The ropes had also pulled the girls clothing up, exposing a curvy bare stomach and a pretty patterned bra, nicely filled.
Bill felt himself blushing hard as he stepped forward to free the girl,who was gasping and struggling to untangle herself. And then he stopped. He looked again at the thief, through new eyes.
She was petite, about 5'4, and small built. He saw long red hair tied in a ponytail, fierce green eyes and a pretty face. Her shirt was bunched around her neck and shoulders, exposing her bra covered breasts, and a smooth, bare midriff. Bill felt his eyes drawn to the girls bare, shaven armpits, stretched tight as drums by her unfortunate position. The tight black jeans she wore were covered in dust and grime, and her biker boots caked in mud. She was after my equipment, thought Bill angrily,who was feeling most unlike himself.
'Who the hell are you?' He heard himself ask,in a most unBill-like way.
'Get..me down!' yelled the intruder, struggling profusely,and making the ropes tighten even more..
'You came to rob me?' He asked quietly,stepping closer.
'Just get me down, Grandad!' The girl spat, wriggling furiously.
A strange sensation washed over Bill as he again felt his eyes drawn to the girls bare, vulnerable looking armpits. Before he knew what he was doing,he had grabbed the girls shirt from around her neck,and tucked it tightly into her mouth,gagging her. The girl protested loudly of course, but Bill only heard a faint mmphing above the sound of his own heartbeat.
'Thought you could just in and rip me off huh?' He demanded, excitement coursing through his veins as he realised what he was going to do. 'Big mistake, kid. Big mistake.'
Reaching forward, he rested his fingertips, feather light,on the girls bare, heaving sides. He stroked lightly, up and down,from hip to the top of the ribs.
The girl shrieked loudly and furiously behind her gag, and Bill smiled evilly. Until right now, Bill didn't think he had ever smiled in such a way his whole life.
'Wouldn't happen to be ticklish would you?' He asked as his fingers fluttered up and down the girls sides. From the squirming and muffled squeaks coming his way, Bill figured it for a yes.
Feeling more fired up than he had in years, Bill abandoned the feathery strokes for some out and out rib tickling. He stiffened his fingers and began to vibrate, poke and wriggle them up and down both sides of the girl's soft ribs.
The redhead began cackling with wild, helpless laughter as Bill's fingers worked, up and down and around her ticklish sides. Muffled squeals and what may have been cries for mercy were muffled securely by her shirt as Bill tickled her creamy sides like a demon. For the first time in his life, he felt not a shred of pity. Only lust, and power.
Bill felt his trousers tighten over his crotch as he poked and wormed his fingers into the wriggling set of ribs before him.
'So helpless....so stupid,' He taunted,as his flying fingers worked up towards the smooth, creamy armpits he'd been staring at since the girl had fallen into his lap.
Bill wasn't so far gone that he didn't hear the girl's screams rise in intensity and desperation as he neared the pale hollows of her underarms. Bill's erection was in severe danger of exploding out of his corduroys as he began to spider tickle both the girl's soft pits.
Screaming,desperate laughter burst from the captive as long, thin fingers began to tickle the shaved smooth curves of her hyperticklish armpits. Long, wracking muffled laughs filled Bill's head as he worked, fingers flying and delving into the softest underarms he had ever seen or touched. Stepping closer, he wrapped one arm around the screaming girl's waist, pressing his almost painful erection against her thigh as his other hand scratched and fluttered against the soft, tender underarm flesh.
Bill hadn't felt so alive in years, and didn't think he could stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the silky feeling of this stranger's smooth, warm armpit, the screaming, agonised laughter he was pulling from her lungs, the wriggling, struggling pressure against his rock hard groin.
Bill had no idea when he started licking the exposed armpit of the screaming girl, except that when he licked slowly into the centre of the warm, cherry scented hollow, the girls screams became almost painful to hear. He had even less idea how he managed to continue tickling the other armpit with his dexterous fingers as he clutched the girl's struggling body.
Even after he felt the glorious release of pressure in his loins against her thigh, he couldn't get enough of the sweet scent and taste of the young girls ticklish armpit, couldn't stop his tongue worming into the centre of it, even as the caretaker yelled his name, even as the police grabbed his arms and tried to pull him away, even as the girl lost consciousness and hung limply, still Bill Johnson licked and tickled and licked and tickled those ticklish underarms and sides, the ones that woke him from his mundane life, the ones that haunted his dreams every night thereafter.
Bill lay quietly in his cell and was grateful. He felt alive. He felt powerful. And he only had 1 year left. 365 days until he would walk free, and seek out those cherry scented ticklish hollows.
:firedevil