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A new year offering ...

fletcher_e_kite

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Dec 30, 2010
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Hi Guys and Happy New Year,

To begin this year, in which I have resolved to start making a proper and regular contribution to this great place, I thought I would offer up this little piece of what I call 'standalone' fiction.

By 'standalone', I mean a short story (In this case a first person narrative) that picks things up right in the heart of the action, merely hinting at the setting or back story, while concentrating fully on the drama of the moment.

Anyway - enough waffle! Hope you all enjoy, and as always, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts and feedback ...



TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES


Whatever it was she wanted, I was determined that I wasn't going to give her the slightest satisfaction. Tied up or not, I was still the boss in this relationship and whatever this jumped up little madam may have been thinking - there was nothing she could do that would change that fact.

"Let's make a start then shall we?", she said in a disturbingly casual tone. I said nothing and just glared at her with my best 'tough bitch' scowl.

"We don't need these now do we?", she continued as she knelt down and slipped off both my heels - tossing them carelessly to one side.

"Hey - they cost more than you earn in a month young lady!", I protested - half in an attempt to re-affirm my seniority, and partially because they really were an extremely expensive pair of designer shoes.

She completely ignored me, and instead was staring at my immobile feet.

"What size are you anyway?" she said in a brattish manner, still not looking up, but seeming strangely fascinated with straightening the seams around the toes of my tights.

"If you weren't so stupid you could read the number inside the shoe!", I retorted, and found myself smirking slightly. I was rather proud of my confident sounding put-down given the circumstances.

"You want to be careful being so rude to me you know - after all - you're the one that's strapped to the desk remember!"

Her tone was suddenly menacing. I said nothing.

"I'd say you were about an eight - am I right?" My anger at the whole situation suddenly welled up inside me - why was I here, and why was I listening to this crazy young girl anyway!

"What does it matter what size my bloody feet are!? What is all of this even about? You're crazy I know - but shall we just get to the point!" I did my best to sound assertive, but I realised that my voice portrayed at least a little panic.

"More room to play with", she suddenly replied, now staring straight into my eyes. I was confused, I didn't even begin to understand what she was talking about.

"W-what? What do you mean - room to play?"

"How big your feet are - more room to play!", she chirped back, now beginning to sound like a goofy schoolgirl.

I opened my mouth to respond with yet another question - when suddenly, I realised what her intentions were - I felt two sharp fingernails contact the bottoms of my feet.

"Ticklish?" she mocked, again gazing into my eyes, but now with a wicked smile across her face.

Oh my God! I was ticklish - extremely so - and of all places, my feet were by far the worst! A feeling of terror suddenly put my stomach in knots. I can't even stand to have my feet touched, let alone this!

I tensed every muscle in my body, clenching my teeth and fists as my mind raced - and then it happened ... my worst nightmare ... the fingernails began to move!

It felt like electricity as she ran her two index fingers straight down my soles. A shiver raced through my whole body. Luckily, by bracing myself in anticipation, my locked knees had somehow prevented my feet from twitching.

"Hmmm ...", she murmured - sitting back on her heels momentarily, clearly a little thrown by my lack of response.

I saw my chance to stop this madness right now.

"I'm sorry to spoil your stupid little game - but as you can see, you're wasting your time."

"So you're not ticklish then?", she asked quizzically.

I knew I had to convince her quickly before she tested me again.

"Afraid not, sorry to disappoint you!", I replied, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. I expected her to respond, but she remained silent - prompting me to speak again.

"Look, whatever this is about, why don't you just let me go, and I promise we can talk about it." Still no response. I continued on ...

"I won't call the police if that's what you're worried about. Just untie me, and it'll go no further. Deal?"

It sickened me to think that I was prepared to do a deal with this nutter, but once I was free - it would be a different story!

"A deal eh?", she finally exclaimed. Yeah, that sounds fun! But I need to be sure you're not lying about not going to the police.", her tone flipped from playful to serious in a heartbeat.

"Listen. I give you my word. I promise. I wouldn't lie to you!", my sense that she might be about to release me, made my pleas sound all the more sincere.

"OK", she uttered unexpectedly.

Was that it!? Had I talked my way out of the situation that easily!?

"If you can prove that you're not a liar - I'll let you go straight away.", she added pleasantly.

"Prove?", I enquired, fearing my unconditional release was about to become extremely conditional!

"You told me that you weren't ticklish, didn't you?", her eyes once again sparkled with mischief.

I knew I had to maintain my pretence as confidently as I could.

"That's right, I'm not. Never have been!", I said, faking a half yawn in an attempt to seem unconcerned at the vulnerability of my position.

"Cool!" She exclaimed. "Well once I establish you're not lying to me about that, then I'll know you're not lying about going to the police!" Her face was one huge, self satisfied grin. Even I had to admit she had me in checkmate.

"Five minutes should do I think", she mused, thinking out loud.

"Mind you, I don't want to underestimate your will power do I? ... Ten minutes will put it beyond doubt. Nobody with ticklish feet could last that long without laughing could they!?"

My anger suddenly boiled over. "You need help, you weirdo!", I shouted, trying for the first time to pull free of the straps that held me.

"Starting NOW!", She suddenly said, looking at the large clock across the room, and pouncing on my bound feet.

From that moment, there were no words - just sensations. Teasing, intense, maddening sensations.

She used one hand to hold back the toes of my right foot, and the other to furiously scrabble her nails all over the taut flesh of my sole. The nylon covering of my tights somehow made my feet even more sensitive, and I found myself bucking against my bonds as jolts of pure ticklishness racked my body.

I'd never been one for showing weakness, and I would be damned if some stupid girl tickling my feet was going to make me crack!

The trouble was that she could see it was driving me crazy - my legs and feet were squirming wildly, and my face bore an agonised expression of sensory overload. She knew she was pushing my buttons - but somehow, through gritted teeth, and concrete will power, I defied her and kept the laughter held in.

"Come on Karen, you KNOW you want to laugh! Let it out! I'm not going to stop tickling until you do ... and I know how ticklish your feet are! Go on - Give in ... You can't last much longer!"

Her childish taunting seemed to make it even harder to stay in control - and worst of all - I knew she was right!

There was a momentary let up in the tickling as she tightened the straps around my ankles which had been loosened by my frantic attempts to pull away. A glance at the clock, soon put paid to any sense of pride I may have had about my endurance. Only two minutes had elapsed!

The break allowed me a brief respite in which to try to regain my composure, but given the circumstances it seemed pointless. My usually perfect hair had been tossed into a wild mess. The palms of my hands were sweating profusely, and covered in red marks where my nails had dug in as I clenched my fists. But by far the worst loss of dignity was the level to which my skirt had ridden up my thighs as a result of my constant writhing.

Without warning, it began again. But this time on both feet at once! God - this was truly unbearable now! I MUSTN'T laugh - I just mustn't! But what chance did I have. I couldn't stop her fingers. I couldn't free my feet. And every damn stroke was filling the well of laughter building in my stomach. Yet again, the slick, sheer nylon seemed to be making it ten times more ticklish.

I lost track of time, as I threw my head back, biting the inside of my cheeks to the point of pain. I was desperate now. Determined not to give in - but rapidly losing the battle of self control.

Like a volcano erupting - it happened! The pent up laughter burst from my lips with a thoroughly unrefined snort. I was gone! No way back now that the damn had been breached. I wailed in hysterics as mascara stained tears now ran down my face.

"Oh dear ... it looks like you lied to me after all!", she chided.

"You're a naughty girl! I wonder what we should do to punish you ..."


THE END.



Note: I originally penned this piece some time ago to provide models with voice script extracts for a failed audio story project I began.
 
Last edited:
You may have failed in your audio endeavor, but I could see this being a block buster series here!
 
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