ticklephehe
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Aug 30, 2002
- Messages
- 1,065
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Melissa’s Ordeal
By J the Quill.
Part 1
Melissa pressed the button on the remote, activating the security gate to her parent’s estate. Guiding her Toyota 4Runner towards the house, she was relieved just to be alone. She was going to enjoy her two weeks secluded in the hills. She had worked a hard year, as a full-time student and a legal secretary, she hardly had anytime to herself. When her parents agreed to let her come and stay in their summer house, rather than go along with the family on their yearly cruise, she thanked the heavens.
Pulling the 4Runner to a stop, she hopped out and retrieved her overnight bag from the backseat. She thought she should have stopped to get more clothes. All she had with her was the business suit, stockings and heels she had worn to work that day, her bag contained her workout suit, which consisted of a pair of full-footed tights, a spandex leotard, and her cross-trainers. She would have to go back to the family’s other house tomorrow, to pick-up enough clothes for two weeks.
Opening the front door, she tossed her keys on the hall table and quickly deactivated the security alarm. She walked the length of the hall and climbed the staircase to the second floor. On the hardwood floors, her heels announced her presence in the empty house. Entering the master bedroom, she dropped the bag on the floor and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.
She loved the pinstripe suit she had worn, it had been tailored for her and complimented her figure beautifully. The jacket hugged her curves and the skirt was short enough to show off her well-toned legs. She had worn black nylons, and though she was comfortable with the 4-inch heels, she felt that maybe they were too high for a professional business image.
She needed the extra height, she thought. Standing 5’ 2", the heels gave her a sense of power. She looked good, she thought. The outfit was perfect.
She lounged about, still wearing the suit. Pretending the house belonged to her, that she was a high powered lawyer, and had paid for everything. She sat in her favorite chair, a long, comfortable chaise. She folded through some files that were lying on her parent’s bedside table. Keeping an eye on herself in the mirror, she kept shifting her position in the chair, trying to look as sexy as she felt.
Not satisfied, she moved the chair around so that she had a side view of herself. She crossed her legs so that her right foot hung off the side of the chair. She casually flexed her ankle to let the heel slip off her foot and dangle on her toes. She always liked this look. She had noticed that some men paid more attention to her when she teased like this. She noticed a few women too. There was something about her feet that people seemed to be attracted to.
Relaxing in the chair, she closed her eyes and faded off to sleep, completely forgetting that she hadn’t reset the security alarm.
She woke with a start. She had heard a noise. Or had she been dreaming. The room was dark, she had forgotten to turn on a light. Swinging her legs off the chaise, she stood and began across the room. She stopped immediately, realizing she had lost her dangling shoe. That must have been the noise, she thought as she felt around the darkened floor for her lost shoe. Finding it, she quickly placed it on her foot and went to the lamp.
She felt for the switch, never fully appreciating how dark the house was without lights. She heard the click of the switch, but no light came on. A sense of panic began to creep upon her.
Wait, she thought, there was no electricity because her parents had turned it off when they had left last. She remembered that her father had explained to her about the breaker box and turning on the electricity. She also made a mental note to turn off all the breakers when she left, except for the security system, which stayed on all the time.
She made her way to the steps, moving slowly, as not to trip in her high heels. She carefully walked down the staircase, and felt her way into the kitchen. The sound of her heels gave her an eerie feeling. She must tell her parents to carpet this house sometime. She would have gone without her shoes, but didn’t want to go all the way down to the basement in just her stocking feet. Trying to remember if there was a flashlight handy, she came to the basement door. Turning the doorknob, she opened the door slowly. She realized the door wasn’t locked, as a sound made her jump.
The creak of the door had startled her. She stamped her foot at how silly she was. She strode defiantly into the basement, determined to retrieve her courage. She found the box and began flipping the breakers. She was alone, she told herself, if anyone had tried to get the security system would have gone off.
Halfway up the still darkened stairs, she stopped short. The security system, she thought. Did I turn it back on? I have to check it. She quickly went through the door and closed it behind her. She began to cross the room, to flip on the kitchen light. Two steps short of the switch and she heard a whip of fabric. A sheet was thrown over her head, fully covering her torso, and two strong arms wrapped around her.
Melissa screamed, as the arms lifted her off the floor and spun her around.
"Scream all you want, honey." A feminine voice said, "No one can hear you."
Melissa screamed again, crying out for help. The woman had dragged her into the hallway now, and her voice was echoing through the house.
"Oh! Help me! Help me!" The woman mocked Melissa as she carried the struggling student into the living room. Dropping her on the floor, she rolled her captive around, wrapping the sheet tightly around her. The woman produced a roll of duct tape from her satchel and wrapped Melissa tightly, banding the tape from her shoulders to her knees. Standing up and taking off her night-vision goggles, she flipped on a light to view her handy work.
Melissa struggle against her bonds, she had stopped screaming for help, consigned to the fact that no one could hear her. As she rolled around trying to get free, an overwhelming feeling of helpless set upon her. She calmed down and steadied her breathing. "What do you want?"
"I’ll ask the questions. Let’s start with, Who are you?"
Not sure what to say, Melissa kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure if the woman was a kidnapper or a thief. Either way, she’d get no help from the feisty law student.
"Not gonna talk, huh." The woman looked around the room at all the pictures of her captive on the walls. "I would say, your name is Melissa."
Melissa maintained her silence, trying to find out how much her captor knew.
"There’s a safe in this house somewhere, Melissa. I want you to tell me where it is."
"Go to hell." Melissa’s first words to her captor were not well chosen, but they were to the point. She would die before helping this woman out in any way.
"Let me rephrase my question. There’s a safe somewhere in this house, Melissa. I want you to tell me where, or you will suffer the consequences."
"Do your worst, bitch."
"I intend to. Have it your way, but remember," the woman told her, "I did offer you a chance."
The woman reached into her pack once more and pulled out a small bottle. She poured a small amount of the contents across the sheet where Melissa’s face was. The struggling girl soon calmed and slept.
Melissa woke up sitting on her parent’s bed. Still clothed in her business suit and heels, he was tied at the waist close to the headboard, forcing her to sit upright. Her wrists were tied to the bedpost. The ropes were stretched so taut, her arms were pulled out to her sides. Her ankles were tied about three feet apart with rope, causing her skirt to ride up her thighs and show off the tops of her black stockings, her garter-belt and her black, lace panties. More lengths of rope ran from her ankles to the sides and ends of the bed. These ropes kept her feet in a stationary position. Under each ankle was a pillow, keeping her feet off the bed.
The thief walked into the master bedroom. Melissa got to see her captor for the first time. She was tall, about 5’8". She had curly blonde hair. On her face she wore a mask that resembled a raccoon’s. For clothing, the thief wore a loose fitting black leather jacket and skintight leggings that went down to her ankles. On her feet, she wore black high heels similar to Melissa’s own.
"I see you’re awake. I’ll give you one last chance. Where is the safe?"
Melissa steamed a silenced reply.
"Okay, that was your last chance for the next hour."
Taking off the jacket, the woman revealed long black gloves that ran the length of her arm, stopping at her biceps. Slowly the woman peeled of the gloves, revealing sharp, red fingernails. She then laid across the bed just beyond Melissa’s outstretched feet. Using one hand she propped her chin up and flashed a wicked grin at her prisoner. With her free hand she reached out and plucked the high heel from Melissa’s foot, tossing it to the far corner of the room. Reaching out, she took a hold of her captive’s immobile nylon-clad foot, looking at it, as if she was inspecting it.
"My what a beautiful foot you have, such high arches, such cute toes. And what a wonderful pedicure you have. Do you always pamper your feet like this?"
"What are you doing? Leave my foot alone!" Melissa struggled, trying to pull her foot from her captor’s grasp. Then her voice raised in pitch as she realized what was in store for her. "Oh no. You wouldn’t do that? You wouldn’t tickle my feet? Would you?"
With one hand, the woman held Melissa’s toes and bent them backwards, forcing her foot to arch. Then with one fingernail from her other hand, the thief traced the length of Melissa ticklish foot. She watched Melissa’s face, laughing as her captive try to mask her laughter with anger.
"No! Don’t do that!" Melissa called through clenched teeth, fighting back the first chuckle. She fought another giggle as the cruel woman scratched her sensitive foot bottom again with a solo finger. "Oh! Stop! Please! I can’t stand it!"
"Oh don’t tell me that’s all you can stand. That was only one finger. Just think about five fingers tickling these perfectly ticklish feet."
Melissa had already begun thinking about it. Since she was a little girl, the thought of being tickled usually was enough to make her giggle helplessly. Often people would take advantage of her in this state, either poking her ribs, or even worse, going for her feet. It was her greatest weakness. Now it would be fully exploited, used with cruelty against her. The thoughts were too strong now. In her helpless state, she began to giggle.
"What’s the matter sweetie, got the giggles?" All five of the thief’s sharp fingernails began to glide over the smooth ticklish surface of Melissa stocking foot.
Unable to hold the laughter back, Melissa’s laughter began to ring throughout the room.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! No!" Melissa begged, trying to stifle her laughter, "Please, oh, ho, ho, ho, no, don’t do that!"
"Oh, you’re extremely ticklish, aren’t you? I know you can’t stand this, but you’ll have to. You had your chance, now you pay the price."
The fingers increased in speed, wriggling below the ball of her foot, right where the arch began. Spastically, Melissa began to shake. "Nnnnngh! No! Ha, ha, ha, ha, aaagh, ha, ha, nnngh, please!" Helplessly, she ran out of breath. For minutes, she held her mouth open in a silent laugh, making no sound. More seconds passed, and she had been sentenced to an hour. The tickling slowed to a torturous scratch. She managed to get a slight breath that came up immediately as a sweet giggle.
"Heh, heh, heh, heh, nnngh, no! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" To her horror, she noticed her other shoe had slipped off her heel and now was dangling on her toes. She began to panic. If she couldn’t remain still, the dangling shoe would fall off, revealing her other sensitive sole. If the tickling thief noticed, the shoe would be easily removed. Through the tickling, she tried to get her heel back on, but the pump had already risen high enough on her toes to make it impossible without a free hand. She stared longingly at her pump, knowing it was the only thing protecting her other ticklish foot. She realized too late that the woman had been watching her.
"Look at you trying so desperately hard to keep that shoe on. I hope you don’t accidentally kick it off." The thief’s evil grin widened, as both her hands attacked Melissa’s nylon-clad sole with unmerciful vigor. "Be careful. Don’t lose the other shoe, or I’ll be forced to tickle both of your feet. I wonder if that foot is as ticklish as this one? You know wearing nylons doesn’t help you at all against being tickled. Some people even believe it heightens the tickling sensations."
Giggling and guffawing, Melissa did her best to hold the shoe on. She had lasted for a minute, but the inevitable happened. The wiggling and shifting of her other leg had caused her other shoe to fall off.
The woman glanced at the newly exposed foot at her disposal. "Oh! Do you want me to tickle that foot too? I’d be delighted. I love how smooth these hose are on your feet. It’s like they want to be tickled. Do they want to be tickled, Melissa?"
Unable to answer, Melissa shook her head. If she could speak, she would plead for mercy. Yet she knew the woman would have none for her. The constant raking of one of her tender feet was enough to keep her in stitches for hours. Soon those sensations would double as her other delicate sole would be probed for the hated ticklish responses.
Sitting up, the woman crouched so that she could reach both helpless feet at the same time. Snatching the discarded shoe, she tossed it to its twin, lying in the corner. All this action had given Melissa a moment to fill her breathless lungs, yet even before the woman restarted her tickling torture, the helpless girl continued to laugh.
Breathing heavily, and still giggling, Melissa braced as best she could. The sharp, deft fingernails dug into the ticklish soles of both nylon-clad feet causing spastic laughter to escape her tired lungs. Unable to free her struggling form, she gave in to the tickling. She had no resistance left. The woman had broken her. She tossed her head back and laughed long and hard. Unable to do anything else, she closed her eyes and felt the nails glide smoothly across the bottoms of her stocking feet. The sensations slowed to a tender twitching, causing her laughter to calm into a paralyzing giggle.
Melissa realized she would talk. As soon as she was given a chance, she would blurt out any information the thief desired. She had only endured the torture for ten minutes and she had no desire to continue. Her wiggling and shaken had slowed, as her body began to run out of energy.
"Ohhh! No! Ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, ha, ha, ha! Ha’ll Thalk! Ha, ha, ha, puh-, puhleez! I’ll, ha, ha, ha, talk!" Hearing this, the thief went for her toes. She used her hand to spread Melissa’s big toe from the rest and dug softly for the most sensitive spots in between.
Unprepared for this new assault, Melissa erupted into laughter again.
"NO! NOT MY TOES! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, NNNGH, NO, NOT, HA, HA, HA, TH-, THERE-, HA, HA, HA!"
With all her remaining strength, Melissa tried to bring her toes together, but her captor had her beat. More fingers began an agonistic teasing of more helpless toes. Melissa’s strength left her. Her head again flew back and the long, hard laughter escaped her mouth. Her eyes again closed as she felt the fingers probe her round toes through the smooth nylon. The hand holding her toes disappeared, reappearing a second later on the sole of the other foot. This tickling had her completely off balance. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to defeat the sensations in any way.
There was something else that bothered Melissa as the woman put her through this agony. Something exciting that she couldn’t explain. More tickling chased the thoughts from her mind.
"Only ten more minutes. I should give you a moment to rest. You have been a gracious host, and this will be the most extreme part, but you’d probably try to talk, and that would wreck my fun. So, I’m going to have to add a little more to your ensemble." The woman moved quickly and straddled Melissa’s legs, pulling a gag-ball from her bag, she quickly gagged her captive before she had a chance to protest. She added a blindfold. She got off Melissa and walked around again to the foot of the bed, kneeling, so both feet would be within reach.
I can’t talk, Melissa thought, I can’t stop her. She won’t even let me beg!
"I call this ‘hard tickling’. It’s very cruel, but it is very effective. Understand, if you don’t give me the information concerning the location of the safe, I will tickle you like this for hours. You should understand, there’s no way to escape. You should understand, there’s not an ounce of mercy in me."
"Nnngh! Uhl Tuhk!" Melissa was more excited than ever. Excited, afraid, angry, and very sensual. She wondered how she looked as the helpless captive. She was slightly ashamed that she was happy. She was still in agony, still captive. Yet there was something within her that felt secure in her bondage, and secure in the hands of her torturer. She hadn’t laughed like this in years. She felt ashamed that she had partially enjoyed this.
Ten sharp fingernails dug deeply into the soles of her feet. Through the gag-ball, she screamed in agony. She squealed and struggled as the tickling sensations invaded her feet. She laughed as hard as she was allowed. Desperately, she tried to put the assault out of her mind, but blindfolded she was unable to sense anything except for the nails scratching the bottoms of her extremely ticklish feet through the smooth nylon. She realized she was going to orgasm.
Panic set in again. This woman was going to make her orgasm. What had she said, "No escape." Is that what she had meant? Her body began to convulse. She felt herself let go, and the tickling felt rhythmic, as to help her go. She moaned and went light-headed.
The tickling had stopped. She felt as if she had passed out. She felt the gag-ball pulled from her mouth, and comforting hands cradled her face.
"Where is it?"
Through broken speech she mumbled the words. "Under… Welcome mat… Loose tile… Pull the handle… Safe… Hidden in living room."
She felt the hands lay her head back, and heard the heels of her captor walk from the room. Exhausted, she slept.
She woke up some time later. She found herself untied, still lying on her parent’s bed. Wondering if she’d ever get caught like that again.
End of Part 1.
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Melissa’s Ordeal
By J the Quill.
Part 1
Melissa pressed the button on the remote, activating the security gate to her parent’s estate. Guiding her Toyota 4Runner towards the house, she was relieved just to be alone. She was going to enjoy her two weeks secluded in the hills. She had worked a hard year, as a full-time student and a legal secretary, she hardly had anytime to herself. When her parents agreed to let her come and stay in their summer house, rather than go along with the family on their yearly cruise, she thanked the heavens.
Pulling the 4Runner to a stop, she hopped out and retrieved her overnight bag from the backseat. She thought she should have stopped to get more clothes. All she had with her was the business suit, stockings and heels she had worn to work that day, her bag contained her workout suit, which consisted of a pair of full-footed tights, a spandex leotard, and her cross-trainers. She would have to go back to the family’s other house tomorrow, to pick-up enough clothes for two weeks.
Opening the front door, she tossed her keys on the hall table and quickly deactivated the security alarm. She walked the length of the hall and climbed the staircase to the second floor. On the hardwood floors, her heels announced her presence in the empty house. Entering the master bedroom, she dropped the bag on the floor and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.
She loved the pinstripe suit she had worn, it had been tailored for her and complimented her figure beautifully. The jacket hugged her curves and the skirt was short enough to show off her well-toned legs. She had worn black nylons, and though she was comfortable with the 4-inch heels, she felt that maybe they were too high for a professional business image.
She needed the extra height, she thought. Standing 5’ 2", the heels gave her a sense of power. She looked good, she thought. The outfit was perfect.
She lounged about, still wearing the suit. Pretending the house belonged to her, that she was a high powered lawyer, and had paid for everything. She sat in her favorite chair, a long, comfortable chaise. She folded through some files that were lying on her parent’s bedside table. Keeping an eye on herself in the mirror, she kept shifting her position in the chair, trying to look as sexy as she felt.
Not satisfied, she moved the chair around so that she had a side view of herself. She crossed her legs so that her right foot hung off the side of the chair. She casually flexed her ankle to let the heel slip off her foot and dangle on her toes. She always liked this look. She had noticed that some men paid more attention to her when she teased like this. She noticed a few women too. There was something about her feet that people seemed to be attracted to.
Relaxing in the chair, she closed her eyes and faded off to sleep, completely forgetting that she hadn’t reset the security alarm.
She woke with a start. She had heard a noise. Or had she been dreaming. The room was dark, she had forgotten to turn on a light. Swinging her legs off the chaise, she stood and began across the room. She stopped immediately, realizing she had lost her dangling shoe. That must have been the noise, she thought as she felt around the darkened floor for her lost shoe. Finding it, she quickly placed it on her foot and went to the lamp.
She felt for the switch, never fully appreciating how dark the house was without lights. She heard the click of the switch, but no light came on. A sense of panic began to creep upon her.
Wait, she thought, there was no electricity because her parents had turned it off when they had left last. She remembered that her father had explained to her about the breaker box and turning on the electricity. She also made a mental note to turn off all the breakers when she left, except for the security system, which stayed on all the time.
She made her way to the steps, moving slowly, as not to trip in her high heels. She carefully walked down the staircase, and felt her way into the kitchen. The sound of her heels gave her an eerie feeling. She must tell her parents to carpet this house sometime. She would have gone without her shoes, but didn’t want to go all the way down to the basement in just her stocking feet. Trying to remember if there was a flashlight handy, she came to the basement door. Turning the doorknob, she opened the door slowly. She realized the door wasn’t locked, as a sound made her jump.
The creak of the door had startled her. She stamped her foot at how silly she was. She strode defiantly into the basement, determined to retrieve her courage. She found the box and began flipping the breakers. She was alone, she told herself, if anyone had tried to get the security system would have gone off.
Halfway up the still darkened stairs, she stopped short. The security system, she thought. Did I turn it back on? I have to check it. She quickly went through the door and closed it behind her. She began to cross the room, to flip on the kitchen light. Two steps short of the switch and she heard a whip of fabric. A sheet was thrown over her head, fully covering her torso, and two strong arms wrapped around her.
Melissa screamed, as the arms lifted her off the floor and spun her around.
"Scream all you want, honey." A feminine voice said, "No one can hear you."
Melissa screamed again, crying out for help. The woman had dragged her into the hallway now, and her voice was echoing through the house.
"Oh! Help me! Help me!" The woman mocked Melissa as she carried the struggling student into the living room. Dropping her on the floor, she rolled her captive around, wrapping the sheet tightly around her. The woman produced a roll of duct tape from her satchel and wrapped Melissa tightly, banding the tape from her shoulders to her knees. Standing up and taking off her night-vision goggles, she flipped on a light to view her handy work.
Melissa struggle against her bonds, she had stopped screaming for help, consigned to the fact that no one could hear her. As she rolled around trying to get free, an overwhelming feeling of helpless set upon her. She calmed down and steadied her breathing. "What do you want?"
"I’ll ask the questions. Let’s start with, Who are you?"
Not sure what to say, Melissa kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure if the woman was a kidnapper or a thief. Either way, she’d get no help from the feisty law student.
"Not gonna talk, huh." The woman looked around the room at all the pictures of her captive on the walls. "I would say, your name is Melissa."
Melissa maintained her silence, trying to find out how much her captor knew.
"There’s a safe in this house somewhere, Melissa. I want you to tell me where it is."
"Go to hell." Melissa’s first words to her captor were not well chosen, but they were to the point. She would die before helping this woman out in any way.
"Let me rephrase my question. There’s a safe somewhere in this house, Melissa. I want you to tell me where, or you will suffer the consequences."
"Do your worst, bitch."
"I intend to. Have it your way, but remember," the woman told her, "I did offer you a chance."
The woman reached into her pack once more and pulled out a small bottle. She poured a small amount of the contents across the sheet where Melissa’s face was. The struggling girl soon calmed and slept.
Melissa woke up sitting on her parent’s bed. Still clothed in her business suit and heels, he was tied at the waist close to the headboard, forcing her to sit upright. Her wrists were tied to the bedpost. The ropes were stretched so taut, her arms were pulled out to her sides. Her ankles were tied about three feet apart with rope, causing her skirt to ride up her thighs and show off the tops of her black stockings, her garter-belt and her black, lace panties. More lengths of rope ran from her ankles to the sides and ends of the bed. These ropes kept her feet in a stationary position. Under each ankle was a pillow, keeping her feet off the bed.
The thief walked into the master bedroom. Melissa got to see her captor for the first time. She was tall, about 5’8". She had curly blonde hair. On her face she wore a mask that resembled a raccoon’s. For clothing, the thief wore a loose fitting black leather jacket and skintight leggings that went down to her ankles. On her feet, she wore black high heels similar to Melissa’s own.
"I see you’re awake. I’ll give you one last chance. Where is the safe?"
Melissa steamed a silenced reply.
"Okay, that was your last chance for the next hour."
Taking off the jacket, the woman revealed long black gloves that ran the length of her arm, stopping at her biceps. Slowly the woman peeled of the gloves, revealing sharp, red fingernails. She then laid across the bed just beyond Melissa’s outstretched feet. Using one hand she propped her chin up and flashed a wicked grin at her prisoner. With her free hand she reached out and plucked the high heel from Melissa’s foot, tossing it to the far corner of the room. Reaching out, she took a hold of her captive’s immobile nylon-clad foot, looking at it, as if she was inspecting it.
"My what a beautiful foot you have, such high arches, such cute toes. And what a wonderful pedicure you have. Do you always pamper your feet like this?"
"What are you doing? Leave my foot alone!" Melissa struggled, trying to pull her foot from her captor’s grasp. Then her voice raised in pitch as she realized what was in store for her. "Oh no. You wouldn’t do that? You wouldn’t tickle my feet? Would you?"
With one hand, the woman held Melissa’s toes and bent them backwards, forcing her foot to arch. Then with one fingernail from her other hand, the thief traced the length of Melissa ticklish foot. She watched Melissa’s face, laughing as her captive try to mask her laughter with anger.
"No! Don’t do that!" Melissa called through clenched teeth, fighting back the first chuckle. She fought another giggle as the cruel woman scratched her sensitive foot bottom again with a solo finger. "Oh! Stop! Please! I can’t stand it!"
"Oh don’t tell me that’s all you can stand. That was only one finger. Just think about five fingers tickling these perfectly ticklish feet."
Melissa had already begun thinking about it. Since she was a little girl, the thought of being tickled usually was enough to make her giggle helplessly. Often people would take advantage of her in this state, either poking her ribs, or even worse, going for her feet. It was her greatest weakness. Now it would be fully exploited, used with cruelty against her. The thoughts were too strong now. In her helpless state, she began to giggle.
"What’s the matter sweetie, got the giggles?" All five of the thief’s sharp fingernails began to glide over the smooth ticklish surface of Melissa stocking foot.
Unable to hold the laughter back, Melissa’s laughter began to ring throughout the room.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! No!" Melissa begged, trying to stifle her laughter, "Please, oh, ho, ho, ho, no, don’t do that!"
"Oh, you’re extremely ticklish, aren’t you? I know you can’t stand this, but you’ll have to. You had your chance, now you pay the price."
The fingers increased in speed, wriggling below the ball of her foot, right where the arch began. Spastically, Melissa began to shake. "Nnnnngh! No! Ha, ha, ha, ha, aaagh, ha, ha, nnngh, please!" Helplessly, she ran out of breath. For minutes, she held her mouth open in a silent laugh, making no sound. More seconds passed, and she had been sentenced to an hour. The tickling slowed to a torturous scratch. She managed to get a slight breath that came up immediately as a sweet giggle.
"Heh, heh, heh, heh, nnngh, no! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" To her horror, she noticed her other shoe had slipped off her heel and now was dangling on her toes. She began to panic. If she couldn’t remain still, the dangling shoe would fall off, revealing her other sensitive sole. If the tickling thief noticed, the shoe would be easily removed. Through the tickling, she tried to get her heel back on, but the pump had already risen high enough on her toes to make it impossible without a free hand. She stared longingly at her pump, knowing it was the only thing protecting her other ticklish foot. She realized too late that the woman had been watching her.
"Look at you trying so desperately hard to keep that shoe on. I hope you don’t accidentally kick it off." The thief’s evil grin widened, as both her hands attacked Melissa’s nylon-clad sole with unmerciful vigor. "Be careful. Don’t lose the other shoe, or I’ll be forced to tickle both of your feet. I wonder if that foot is as ticklish as this one? You know wearing nylons doesn’t help you at all against being tickled. Some people even believe it heightens the tickling sensations."
Giggling and guffawing, Melissa did her best to hold the shoe on. She had lasted for a minute, but the inevitable happened. The wiggling and shifting of her other leg had caused her other shoe to fall off.
The woman glanced at the newly exposed foot at her disposal. "Oh! Do you want me to tickle that foot too? I’d be delighted. I love how smooth these hose are on your feet. It’s like they want to be tickled. Do they want to be tickled, Melissa?"
Unable to answer, Melissa shook her head. If she could speak, she would plead for mercy. Yet she knew the woman would have none for her. The constant raking of one of her tender feet was enough to keep her in stitches for hours. Soon those sensations would double as her other delicate sole would be probed for the hated ticklish responses.
Sitting up, the woman crouched so that she could reach both helpless feet at the same time. Snatching the discarded shoe, she tossed it to its twin, lying in the corner. All this action had given Melissa a moment to fill her breathless lungs, yet even before the woman restarted her tickling torture, the helpless girl continued to laugh.
Breathing heavily, and still giggling, Melissa braced as best she could. The sharp, deft fingernails dug into the ticklish soles of both nylon-clad feet causing spastic laughter to escape her tired lungs. Unable to free her struggling form, she gave in to the tickling. She had no resistance left. The woman had broken her. She tossed her head back and laughed long and hard. Unable to do anything else, she closed her eyes and felt the nails glide smoothly across the bottoms of her stocking feet. The sensations slowed to a tender twitching, causing her laughter to calm into a paralyzing giggle.
Melissa realized she would talk. As soon as she was given a chance, she would blurt out any information the thief desired. She had only endured the torture for ten minutes and she had no desire to continue. Her wiggling and shaken had slowed, as her body began to run out of energy.
"Ohhh! No! Ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, ha, ha, ha! Ha’ll Thalk! Ha, ha, ha, puh-, puhleez! I’ll, ha, ha, ha, talk!" Hearing this, the thief went for her toes. She used her hand to spread Melissa’s big toe from the rest and dug softly for the most sensitive spots in between.
Unprepared for this new assault, Melissa erupted into laughter again.
"NO! NOT MY TOES! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, NNNGH, NO, NOT, HA, HA, HA, TH-, THERE-, HA, HA, HA!"
With all her remaining strength, Melissa tried to bring her toes together, but her captor had her beat. More fingers began an agonistic teasing of more helpless toes. Melissa’s strength left her. Her head again flew back and the long, hard laughter escaped her mouth. Her eyes again closed as she felt the fingers probe her round toes through the smooth nylon. The hand holding her toes disappeared, reappearing a second later on the sole of the other foot. This tickling had her completely off balance. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to defeat the sensations in any way.
There was something else that bothered Melissa as the woman put her through this agony. Something exciting that she couldn’t explain. More tickling chased the thoughts from her mind.
"Only ten more minutes. I should give you a moment to rest. You have been a gracious host, and this will be the most extreme part, but you’d probably try to talk, and that would wreck my fun. So, I’m going to have to add a little more to your ensemble." The woman moved quickly and straddled Melissa’s legs, pulling a gag-ball from her bag, she quickly gagged her captive before she had a chance to protest. She added a blindfold. She got off Melissa and walked around again to the foot of the bed, kneeling, so both feet would be within reach.
I can’t talk, Melissa thought, I can’t stop her. She won’t even let me beg!
"I call this ‘hard tickling’. It’s very cruel, but it is very effective. Understand, if you don’t give me the information concerning the location of the safe, I will tickle you like this for hours. You should understand, there’s no way to escape. You should understand, there’s not an ounce of mercy in me."
"Nnngh! Uhl Tuhk!" Melissa was more excited than ever. Excited, afraid, angry, and very sensual. She wondered how she looked as the helpless captive. She was slightly ashamed that she was happy. She was still in agony, still captive. Yet there was something within her that felt secure in her bondage, and secure in the hands of her torturer. She hadn’t laughed like this in years. She felt ashamed that she had partially enjoyed this.
Ten sharp fingernails dug deeply into the soles of her feet. Through the gag-ball, she screamed in agony. She squealed and struggled as the tickling sensations invaded her feet. She laughed as hard as she was allowed. Desperately, she tried to put the assault out of her mind, but blindfolded she was unable to sense anything except for the nails scratching the bottoms of her extremely ticklish feet through the smooth nylon. She realized she was going to orgasm.
Panic set in again. This woman was going to make her orgasm. What had she said, "No escape." Is that what she had meant? Her body began to convulse. She felt herself let go, and the tickling felt rhythmic, as to help her go. She moaned and went light-headed.
The tickling had stopped. She felt as if she had passed out. She felt the gag-ball pulled from her mouth, and comforting hands cradled her face.
"Where is it?"
Through broken speech she mumbled the words. "Under… Welcome mat… Loose tile… Pull the handle… Safe… Hidden in living room."
She felt the hands lay her head back, and heard the heels of her captor walk from the room. Exhausted, she slept.
She woke up some time later. She found herself untied, still lying on her parent’s bed. Wondering if she’d ever get caught like that again.
End of Part 1.
