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Cloak & Feather: The Appraisal

suikoden

4th Level Red Feather
Joined
May 20, 2001
Messages
1,771
Points
38
Here's a new Samantha Storm story. I got a little carried away with the length of this first chapter so I hope you stick with it - it will be worth it in the end. I was typing quickly so apologies for any typos. Enjoy! :)


Cloak & Feather : The Appraisal

Once every 12 months, elite agents from the Agency's field operations directorate undergo a performance evaluation to test their suitability for active service. For 72 gruelling hours agents are put through their paces mentally and physically with food and rest kept to a minimum. Agents must re-qualify in all their core skills. As usual, Samantha Storm has come through the test with flying colours. Once the post-evaluation medical has been completed, Samantha's operational status will be re-conferred. This year, however, there's one final test...

Samantha Storm ducked behind the green screen in the medical office and shed her gown. She had breezed through her assessent and her medical evaluation was perfect. Moments later she re-appeared. She was dressed in blue jeans, a grey polo-necked sweater, a form fitting leather jacket and black boots.

She stood 5'7" and had the lithe figure of a dancer. Her jet black shoulder length hair framed an oval face with high cheekbones and large blue eyes. She moved with a cat-like grace and to the intelligent observer it was also apparent that the cat had claws!

Dr Marshall scribbled his final notes and put down his pen.

"OK Samantha. I'm giving you a clean bill of health for active status."

"Thanks, Doc." Samantha beamed with a radiant smile.

"Just promise me one thing." Marshall said with fatherly concern. "Take care out there." The owlish Doctor was fiercely protective of the agents he looked after.

Samantha was genuinely touched. "Hey, Doc, I always do." She punched him lightly on the arm and he cracked a grin.

The door to the surgery opened and Samantha and the Doctor looked up to see Lydia Fox, operations director, enter the room.

"Agent Storm, excellent results on your appraisal." Lydia said with a warm smile.

"Thank you." Samantha replied proudly . Lydia Fox had been one of the agency's finest female operatives but had hung up her cloak and dagger to join the ranks of the "suits." She had been Samantha's role model and mentor when she first joined the agency.

Lydia was a tall elegant woman in her early forties. This morning she was dressed in a grey business suit that was cut to flatter her curvaceous figure. Her black hair was styled short and parted in the middle. The only thing that gave away her age was that the front of wings of hair that framed her face had turned white. This added gravitas to her appearance.

"So Doctor, how's our girl?" Lydia asked.

"She's in great shape and cleared for field duty." Marshall

"Not quite, I'm afraid." Fox replied apologetically.

Samantha frowned inwardly. Had she screwed up somewhere? What was going on?

"There's an additional phase we're adding this time." Lydia added. "I'd like you to meet Agent Angela Featherstone. She will conduct the final phase of the assessment. Agent Featherstone, would you come in please."

Agent Featherstone stepped into the room to join the others. Samantha looked at the newcomer with curiosity. Angela was about the same height as Samantha, she had green eyes and thick red hair cut in a bob. She looked in good shape and was wearing a black scoop neck t-shirt and black leather jeans.

"What's this about?" Samantha asked. "I thought the assessment was over."

Lydia didn't reply immediately. "Dr Marshall, would you mind giving us a minute here."

"Sure." Marshall shot Samantha a sympathetic glance and left the room.

Lydia waited until he was gone and then turned to Samantha.

"Samantha, you are one of the best field agents we've got but there is a question mark hanging over you at the moment."

"What do you mean? Surely my record speaks for itself." Samantha said guardedly.

Lydia chewed her lip, a sign that she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say. "Look Sam, we know what happened to you in Colombia and on the recent training exercise with MI6. You were captured and..." Lydia shrugged as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. "you were tortured in a most ... unusual way."

Samantha felt her heart begin to beat faster. She took a deep breath. "You mean I was tickle tortured."

Lydia nodded. "Yes, tickle tortured. Sam, everyone has an achilles heel and it looks like this is yours. There are hostiles out there who now know that you cannot stand being tickled. We have to know whether this is going to be a liability."

"What are you saying?" Samantha said.

"Agent Featherstone has some experience in these matters. She can explain it better than I can."

The redhead stepped forward and spoke directly to Samantha. "Ticke torture is unusual but it's hardly a new phenomenon. As far back as medieval times prolonged tickling was used as a punishment. In the 1970's some police forces in Europe would use rib tickling to interrogate female student activists. The boys just got a bloody nose and a kick in the nuts but it is not as acceptable to rough up girls so tickling was used as a means of punishment or interrogation. It doesn't leave any real physical marks but you can really do a number on someone if you know what you're doing."

"Sounds like you're a real expert on this, Featherstone." Samantha said

Angela cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "I've been known to dabble."

Samantha frowned and then looked at Lydia. "So Red here gets to try to break me with tickling. If she does, my operational status is in jeopardy. Is that it?"

Lydia nodded. "It's up to you Sam. There's always a place for you on the training cadre..."

"No thanks. I'm a field agent." Samantha replied firmly. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Angela smile.

Lydia smiled. "That's the spirit. Don't let me down now." She turned to the redhead. "OK Angela, she's all yours."

Angela put her arm around Samantha's waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Lydia. She's in great hands."

Samantha stiffened involuntarily. Agent Featherstone looked far too happy about this for Samantha's liking.

"Nice leather jacket, Agent Storm." Angela said. "You like motorbikes?"

Samantha didn't respond.

"Me, I'm a Harley girl through and through. Wanna see it?"

------

The two women walked down to the deserted underground garage where they saw Angela's gleaming black Harley Davidson. Samantha was impressed by the touring model which was polished to perfection.

"OK Agent Storm, you know the drill. From now on you're under test conditions and the test isn't over until I say it is. You either pass or you quit. If you pass the signal will be me wearing a white armband. Understood.

"Yeah." Samantha retorted. "Can we get this over with?" Who the hell was this redheaded bimbo anyway?

"Right. Let's get started. Take off your jacket and sweater." Angela said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" Samantha exclaimed indignantly.

"Your jacket and sweater, take them off or I'll do it for you."

"I'd like to see you try!" Samantha thought to herself. She shed the garments to reveal a shiny black bra. She put her hands defiantly on her hips. "Now what?"

Angela looked appreciatively at the brunette's body. "Nice bod, Agent." The redhead grinned. "I bet you've got that pilates workout tape at home."

Samantha rolled her eyes.

"OK. Get on the bike's pillion seat." Angela said, she was removing a black box about the size of a walkman from one of the bike's paniers. "I'm gonna hook you up to my box of tricks. First things first though..."

Samantha did as she was told and watched with intrigue as Angela set the box down and took a set of blue straps from the panier.

"These'll match the colour of your jeans closely enough."

The redhead worked quickly and wrapped the straps over Samantha's thighs and calves, attaching them to fittings on the bike's chassis. Two leather bindings were looped over Samantha's ankles and then used to fasten her feet to the passenger's footpedals. The brunette tried to wiggle her legs but found that they were bound snugly to the Harley.

Angela took out a tube of clear gel. "Raise your arms please Agent Storm, this is just to protect that baby soft skin of yours." The redhead chuckled at her own joke.

Once again, Samantha complied. She would have liked to punch Agent Featherstone's lights out but she knew that would have meant instant failure and probably a desk job in the agency's Alaska station."

The dark-haired agent shivered slightly as the redhead began to dab the cool gel onto her torso. It was applied to the sides of her ribs, her waist just above her jeans and her armpits.

Next Angela began to attach a set of leads to the black box.

"You know those electro-stimulation gizmos you see on the shopping channel, the ones that say they can give you a six pack without working out?" Angela murmured. "Well this is my own little variation on the theme. I call it the tickle-o-matic." She paused and then muttered to herself. "I wonder if there'd be a market for this sort of thing....?"

The padded contact ends of the six leads were attached to Samantha's body where the gel had been applied.

"You certainly don't need any help exercising but this baby here will tickle the hell out of you. You wanna know what the beauty of this is?"

Samantha glowered but didn't reply.

"Nope? Well I'll tell you anyway. It hooks up to the bike. The faster I go or the bumpier the ride, the more intense the tickling dished out. Neat, huh?"

Angela opened a small compartment between Samantha's thighs and fitted the box into its housing. Next she picked up Samantha's jacket and sweater. The sweater disappeared into one of the bike's paniers and then Angela helped Samantha shrug into the leather jacket.

"Can't really ride around with you jacketless can we? You'd get awful chilly."

"Featherstone, you ever hear the saying what goes around comes around?" Samantha said.

"You know Sammie, you can be pretty frosty at times. You need to lighten up a little."

"Yeah well, you're not sitting in my position."

"Hands on the saddle bar behind you please." Angela said.

As soon as Samantha put her hands on the bar she felt a pair of fur lined cuffs slip over her wrists locking them to the small bar.

"Hey, wha---" Her words were cut off as Angela quickly stuffed a wad of material in her mouth. In a few deft moves the redhead had effectively fastened her onto the bike and gagged her. A black strap went around her arms, cinching her elbows to minimise her movement even further. Samantha's blue eyes blazed in fury.

"Come now Agent Storm," Angela said, her attitude all business now. "You are being tested for operational status. You didn't think I was going to let you off lightly did you?" The redhead winked at Samantha. Then she pushed her hands under Samantha's open jacket and quickly goosed her sides. A muffled squeal was all Samantha could muster as the redhead's cold fingers squeezed at her.

"Ooh, this is going to be fun. Well...for me anyway." Angela grinned as Samantha squirmed in her seat."

Angela used a strip of masking tape to bind the wires together and then another strip attached them to Samantha's belt buckle. Her knuckles lightly grazed Samantha's tummy which provoked more little ticklish flinches. "Settle down, Sammie. I haven't even got started yet and you're jumping all over the place."

She nodded at her handiwork. "There, that ought to keep those in place." She couldn't resist giving the spot above Samantha's knees a quick squeeze. So she did, with predicable results. The bound brunette yelped into her gag as the redhead chuckled mischievously.

A bandana was wrapped over the lower half of Samantha's face to disguise the gag and then a blindfold and a pair of wraparound shades went over her eyes. Angela pushed a crash helmet over Samantha's head and zipped up her jacket. As she zipped up the collar she let her fingernails slide under the bandana and lightly tickle Samantha's neck. The bound agent's head whipped sideways and muffled a giggle sounded from beneath the gag.

"Okey doke! We're all set here Agent Storm. Let's go."

Angela pulled on her own jacket and helmet and lithely straddled her bike. She keyed the ignition and revved the machine lightly a few times.

Instantly, Samantha felt a gentle tickling sensation spread across her torso. She wriggled in her seat but no matter how she tried to move, the ticklish vibrations followed her. It was horrible, the sensation was not quite hard enough to be finger tickling, not quite soft enough to be a feather and not wet enough to be a tongue tickle or a raspberry. Instead it was an excruciating balance of all three.

"Don't worry about wriggling around. The tech boys built a neat on board gyroscope into this bike for me. Believe me, I've had some real strugglers on the back of this baby."

With that, the redhead revved the bike hard and the ticklish sensations increased in instensity. Samantha felt invisible fingers play across her waist, ribs and underarms. She couldn't see, she couldn't speak and she couldn't move. She wriggled helplessly as the merciless machine sent wave after wave of ticklish sensations through her.

Angela rode up out of the garage and within minutes they were they were in regular traffic. As the bike hit the tarmac of the highway Samantha felt a new torment. The seat between her legs began to vibrate against her inner thighs. She tried to raise herself up slightly but the redhead had known what she was doing when she strapped Samantha to the seat.

A voice crackled into her helmet. "Hi Sammie, there's a one-way mike in here so I can speak into your helmet and make sure you don't get bored. You've probably noticed that even the bike seat is wired up for your pleasure - ha ha ha. I hope you remebered to pee before we left!"

Samantha was incandescent. She had been rendered completely helpless and between the little black box and the bike seat it felt as if a dozen hands were teasing her sensitive body. To top it off, the only other sensory input she had was the redhead's teasing voice.

"Hey you wanna see how fast this baby can go?" Angela asked.

The redhead opened the throttle and the bike shot up the highlway. Samantha laughed into her gag as the invisible fingers caressed her helpless, ticklish body. The seat thrummed excruciatingly between her thighs. She threw her head back in silent laughter at the onslaught. Within minutes her whole body was trembling. It was lucky the bike was modified for stability.

In her helmet Samantha heard Angela begin to butcher a rock classic.

"Get your motor runnin..."
Head out on the highway...
There's gonna be some tickling...
And it's gonna last ALL day...!"

Samantha's mind reeled Did the agency really employ wackos like this?

"Born to be tiiiickled!!!
Born to be tiiiickled!!!"

Vainly, Samantha tried to dislodge the pads attached to her body but she didn't have the range of motion to do it and they were too well-secured. She tried sucking her belly in as far as she could and wriggling from side to side but nothing worked. She resigned herself to the fact that she had been set up by a professional. With her sight blocked Samantha's mind began to present unsettling images. She envisaged disembodied ghostly hands with long thin fingers tickling freely all over her immobilised body. Cackling tormentors laughed unseen in the background at her fruitless struggles and helpless giggles. She blinked hard beneath her blindfold and tried to shut the imagery out but without much success.

Tears of laughter dampened Samantha's blindfold and her body shook. When the bike moved slowly the tickling was like the tantalising kiss of a feather, when it moved fast it was like the torment of relentless fingers.

How on earth would she get through this? Should she give in to the sensations, try to fight them? Tense all her muscles? Nothing she tried would give her refuge. Samantha's body slumped as she gave up trying to fight the tickling and she let the machine do its dastardly work. She realised darkly that all she could do was to literally grin and (try to) bear it.

The bike began to slow down and the vigorous invisible fingers that were tickling Samantha's belly and sides turned into marginally more bearable fluttering feathers. The bike came to a halt and the ignition was turned off. Mercifully the tickling stopped.

Samantha's body was buzzing and the uncomfortable throbbing seat had turned her thighs to jelly. She was hot and sweaty under her jacket and her arms ached from her restrained position. All she wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep but the chances of that were almost nil.

"How you doing back there?" Angela asked. Samantha felt her dismount from the bike. "I've pulled in at a rest stop to fill the tank. Don't go anywhere! Hee hee hee."

On one level Samantha wanted to throttle the redhead for what she was putting her though but on another level she had a grudging respect for her. Featherstone had been told to work her over and she was doing just that.

Angela finished filling the bike and then her attention to Samantha. "Right let's see how you're doing." The redhead yanked down the zipper on Samantha's jacket and gently opened it. Samantha shivered slightly as the cool evening breeze washed over her body.

The redhead checked the box was intact and then made sure that the leads were still snugged against her captive's belt buckle. She ran her fingers lightly over Samantha's body as she checked the contact pads. Samantha's chest and belly were rising and falling with her breathing and Angela could feel the residual trembling of her body as her fingertips brushed against tormented flesh. The redhead noticed that her captive's nipples had become aroused and were poking again the silky fabric of her bra.

"Well I guess that means you like me or the bike seat." Angela chuckled. She smiled to herself and zipped up the jacket. She checked Samantha's leg straps and then gave her knees another ticklish squeeze which resulted in a satisfying flinch. "Time to go, Sammie! Giddyup!"

Samantha could have almost cried as she felt the bike kick into life and the ticklish sensations began their tantalising torment once again. The brief respite over, it didn't take long for the muffled tearful laughter to start up again.

Worse was yet to come. After a few miles of regular traffic, Samantha felt the bike turn onto a dirt road.

"Just a little shortcut I know." Angela's voice crackled through the helmet mike. "Might get a little bumpy for you! Hee hee hee."

Now the tickling took on a new dimension. The bike slowed down but the uneven surface caused the box's invisible fingers to start poking. Samantha's ribs, armpits and belly were subjected to a series of rapid jabs. She gasped into her gag. She tried tensing against the torment but every time she did a well placed poke would break her composure and she would dissolve into giggles as other fingers joined the fun.

The machine almost seemed intelligent, it seemed to know just what to do to administer the most merciless tickles. Samantha lost track of time as Angela gunned the bike across dirt roads and highways. For all she knew they could have been going round in circles.

Once again Samantha's mind succumbed to sadistic imagery. She imagined herself suspended by her wrists in a blackened room. Sinister chuckling wafted from all corners of the room. Hands loomed out of the darkness to tickle and poke at her at will. Fingers fluttered up and down her sides, squeezed her ribs, poked into her belly button and wriggled in her armpits. The more she laughed and struggled, the more they tickled her. She was their defenceless tickle slave until they got bored, which they never seemed to.

"NO! Samantha had to stop this. She couldn't let her mind work against her in this way.

Miraculously the bike began to slow down and Samantha felt her mind come back into focus.

The bike came to a stop and she felt Angela dismount. Her helmet was pulled off and so were shades and blindfold.

Samantha blinked hard a few times and let her eyes adjust to the light.

"We're in my garage. It leads directly to my house. OK?"

Samantha nodded. She looked hopefully to see if Angela was wearing the white armband but she wasn't. Deep down the field agent knew it wouldn't have been that easy.

"If I take the gag off are you going to be civil?" Angela asked, "If you decide to kick up a racket I'll keep you gagged for the duration of the assessment. You gonna play nice?"

Samantha nodded again and Angela leaned forward and removed the bandana and the sopping wet gag. The brunette worked her jaw around.

"Damn, that feels better." Samantha was surprised at how her voice trembled. That little black box was an evil little piece of machinery. "Could I have a drink?"

Angela fished out a water bottle and let Samantha drain half of it in two long glugs. She jerked the bottle away and water dribbled down Samantha's chin.

"You're still under test conditions. I'm going to take you inside now. I know you're dangerous so you'll stay cuffed."

Angela uncuffed Samantha's wrists from the bike and took the strap from around her elbows. She then unzipped Samantha's jacket, dragged it off her shoulders and recuffed her wrists behind her back. She removed the contacts from her body and tugged the wires free from her belt. She used baby wipes on Samantha's upper body, not minding that it tickled the poor woman as she did so. Samantha giggled as her torso was given a nice rubbing.

"Aww...does it tickle?" Angela asked with a pout. She unstrapped Samantha's legs from the bike. "OK, you can get off now.

Samantha swung one leg over the bike but when she tried to stand her legs gave way. She pitched forward but Featherstone caught her, wrapping her arms around her.

"A little shaky there, huh Sammie?" Angela held the trembling brunette close against her and gazed down mischievously, her green eyes twinkling. "Yeah that bike of mine can do that to a girl... or a guy."

"You're not always going to be the one in control." Samantha breathed defiantly.

Angela cocked an eyebrow quizzically. "Maybe not, but right now you are firmly under my control and I am not nearly done with you yet."

With surprising strength Angela hoisted Samantha over her shoulder into a fireman's carry.

"Come on Sammie. I'll show you my place." She patted the upended agent's rear through tight denim. "You won't believe what I've got in store for you!"

Samantha was too tired and weakened to struggle and felt totally helpless. She wondered what the redhead had in store for her.

Angela hummed merrily to herself as she carried her ticklish captive into the house. There was nothing the redhead enjoyed more than tickling and a beauty like Samantha Storm was a rare prize indeed. She couldn't wait to get started.


TO BE CONTINUED....
 
I think I read the first part of Agent Samantha in Columbia but have not seen the second part. Can u re-post it? Thanks.
 
Thanks for continuing the Samantha Storm series, suikoden! :D
 
on_storm : the original story by Morandilas and TMF links to the sequels are here.

www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=18459

Cloak and Feather 3 is another chapter in the ordeals of our ticklish heroine and the four parts are here.

Part 1
www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=7271
Part 2
www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=7273
Part 3
www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=7361
Part 4
www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=7382

That lot ought to keep you going until the next bit of this new story finished. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far :)
 
Vroom! Vroom! Kitchey-coo!

It's always a delight to encounter the valiant (if hopelessly ticklish) Samantha Storm. You, Sui, have certainly come up with a novel way to tickle torture someone, but, then, gadgetry is a must for the misadventures of our dear agent. Tell me, tho', are you, in fact, a salesperson for Harley-Davidson? I believe that you've suddenly got a number of us Forum habitues dreaming of "easy ridin"... Thanks for the fun tale. 'Lookin' forward to ensuin' chapters.
 
Hey Capt! No, I'm not a sales person for Harley Davidson in fact I don't own a motorbike (a mountain bike is about as close as I come to that.)

Our ticklish heroine still has a way to go yet and I would have part 2 posted much quicker if I didn't have to go to work :D

Part 2 is on its way tho' and I hope you like what's in store!
 
Here's a new Samantha Storm story. I got a little carried away with the length of this first chapter so I hope you stick with it - it will be worth it in the end. I was typing quickly so apologies for any typos. Enjoy! :)


Cloak & Feather : The Appraisal

Once every 12 months, elite agents from the Agency's field operations directorate undergo a performance evaluation to test their suitability for active service. For 72 gruelling hours agents are put through their paces mentally and physically with food and rest kept to a minimum. Agents must re-qualify in all their core skills. As usual, Samantha Storm has come through the test with flying colours. Once the post-evaluation medical has been completed, Samantha's operational status will be re-conferred. This year, however, there's one final test...

Samantha Storm ducked behind the green screen in the medical office and shed her gown. She had breezed through her assessent and her medical evaluation was perfect. Moments later she re-appeared. She was dressed in blue jeans, a grey polo-necked sweater, a form fitting leather jacket and black boots.

She stood 5'7" and had the lithe figure of a dancer. Her jet black shoulder length hair framed an oval face with high cheekbones and large blue eyes. She moved with a cat-like grace and to the intelligent observer it was also apparent that the cat had claws!

Dr Marshall scribbled his final notes and put down his pen.

"OK Samantha. I'm giving you a clean bill of health for active status."

"Thanks, Doc." Samantha beamed with a radiant smile.

"Just promise me one thing." Marshall said with fatherly concern. "Take care out there." The owlish Doctor was fiercely protective of the agents he looked after.

Samantha was genuinely touched. "Hey, Doc, I always do." She punched him lightly on the arm and he cracked a grin.

The door to the surgery opened and Samantha and the Doctor looked up to see Lydia Fox, operations director, enter the room.

"Agent Storm, excellent results on your appraisal." Lydia said with a warm smile.

"Thank you." Samantha replied proudly . Lydia Fox had been one of the agency's finest female operatives but had hung up her cloak and dagger to join the ranks of the "suits." She had been Samantha's role model and mentor when she first joined the agency.

Lydia was a tall elegant woman in her early forties. This morning she was dressed in a grey business suit that was cut to flatter her curvaceous figure. Her black hair was styled short and parted in the middle. The only thing that gave away her age was that the front of wings of hair that framed her face had turned white. This added gravitas to her appearance.

"So Doctor, how's our girl?" Lydia asked.

"She's in great shape and cleared for field duty." Marshall

"Not quite, I'm afraid." Fox replied apologetically.

Samantha frowned inwardly. Had she screwed up somewhere? What was going on?

"There's an additional phase we're adding this time." Lydia added. "I'd like you to meet Agent Angela Featherstone. She will conduct the final phase of the assessment. Agent Featherstone, would you come in please."
Her name is Featherstone. Well, I know where this is going and so should Samantha.
Agent Featherstone stepped into the room to join the others. Samantha looked at the newcomer with curiosity. Angela was about the same height as Samantha, she had green eyes and thick red hair cut in a bob. She looked in good shape and was wearing a black scoop neck t-shirt and black leather jeans.

"What's this about?" Samantha asked. "I thought the assessment was over."

Lydia didn't reply immediately. "Dr Marshall, would you mind giving us a minute here."

"Sure." Marshall shot Samantha a sympathetic glance and left the room.

Lydia waited until he was gone and then turned to Samantha.

"Samantha, you are one of the best field agents we've got but there is a question mark hanging over you at the moment."

"What do you mean? Surely my record speaks for itself." Samantha said guardedly.

Lydia chewed her lip, a sign that she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say. "Look Sam, we know what happened to you in Colombia and on the recent training exercise with MI6. You were captured and..." Lydia shrugged as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. "you were tortured in a most ... unusual way."

Samantha felt her heart begin to beat faster. She took a deep breath. "You mean I was tickle tortured."

Lydia nodded. "Yes, tickle tortured. Sam, everyone has an achilles heel and it looks like this is yours. There are hostiles out there who now know that you cannot stand being tickled. We have to know whether this is going to be a liability."

"What are you saying?" Samantha said.

"Agent Featherstone has some experience in these matters. She can explain it better than I can."

The redhead stepped forward and spoke directly to Samantha. "Ticke torture is unusual but it's hardly a new phenomenon. As far back as medieval times prolonged tickling was used as a punishment. In the 1970's some police forces in Europe would use rib tickling to interrogate female student activists. The boys just got a bloody nose and a kick in the nuts but it is not as acceptable to rough up girls so tickling was used as a means of punishment or interrogation. It doesn't leave any real physical marks but you can really do a number on someone if you know what you're doing."
I don't know how true this quick history of tickling is but if I don't look it up then it isn't not true.
"Sounds like you're a real expert on this, Featherstone." Samantha said

Angela cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "I've been known to dabble."

Samantha frowned and then looked at Lydia. "So Red here gets to try to break me with tickling. If she does, my operational status is in jeopardy. Is that it?"

Lydia nodded. "It's up to you Sam. There's always a place for you on the training cadre..."

"No thanks. I'm a field agent." Samantha replied firmly. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Angela smile.

Lydia smiled. "That's the spirit. Don't let me down now." She turned to the redhead. "OK Angela, she's all yours."

Angela put her arm around Samantha's waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Lydia. She's in great hands."

Samantha stiffened involuntarily. Agent Featherstone looked far too happy about this for Samantha's liking.

"Nice leather jacket, Agent Storm." Angela said. "You like motorbikes?"

Samantha didn't respond.

"Me, I'm a Harley girl through and through. Wanna see it?"

------

The two women walked down to the deserted underground garage where they saw Angela's gleaming black Harley Davidson. Samantha was impressed by the touring model which was polished to perfection.

"OK Agent Storm, you know the drill. From now on you're under test conditions and the test isn't over until I say it is. You either pass or you quit. If you pass the signal will be me wearing a white armband. Understood.
That's an strange signal. Seems significant.
"Yeah." Samantha retorted. "Can we get this over with?" Who the hell was this redheaded bimbo anyway?

"Right. Let's get started. Take off your jacket and sweater." Angela said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" Samantha exclaimed indignantly.

"Your jacket and sweater, take them off or I'll do it for you."

"I'd like to see you try!" Samantha thought to herself. She shed the garments to reveal a shiny black bra. She put her hands defiantly on her hips. "Now what?"

Angela looked appreciatively at the brunette's body. "Nice bod, Agent." The redhead grinned. "I bet you've got that pilates workout tape at home."

Samantha rolled her eyes.

"OK. Get on the bike's pillion seat." Angela said, she was removing a black box about the size of a walkman from one of the bike's paniers. "I'm gonna hook you up to my box of tricks. First things first though..."

Samantha did as she was told and watched with intrigue as Angela set the box down and took a set of blue straps from the panier.

"These'll match the colour of your jeans closely enough."

The redhead worked quickly and wrapped the straps over Samantha's thighs and calves, attaching them to fittings on the bike's chassis. Two leather bindings were looped over Samantha's ankles and then used to fasten her feet to the passenger's footpedals. The brunette tried to wiggle her legs but found that they were bound snugly to the Harley.

Angela took out a tube of clear gel. "Raise your arms please Agent Storm, this is just to protect that baby soft skin of yours." The redhead chuckled at her own joke.

Once again, Samantha complied. She would have liked to punch Agent Featherstone's lights out but she knew that would have meant instant failure and probably a desk job in the agency's Alaska station."

The dark-haired agent shivered slightly as the redhead began to dab the cool gel onto her torso. It was applied to the sides of her ribs, her waist just above her jeans and her armpits.

Next Angela began to attach a set of leads to the black box.

"You know those electro-stimulation gizmos you see on the shopping channel, the ones that say they can give you a six pack without working out?" Angela murmured. "Well this is my own little variation on the theme. I call it the tickle-o-matic." She paused and then muttered to herself. "I wonder if there'd be a market for this sort of thing....?"
Oh absolutely. Well, as long as it works.
The padded contact ends of the six leads were attached to Samantha's body where the gel had been applied.

"You certainly don't need any help exercising but this baby here will tickle the hell out of you. You wanna know what the beauty of this is?"

Samantha glowered but didn't reply.

"Nope? Well I'll tell you anyway. It hooks up to the bike. The faster I go or the bumpier the ride, the more intense the tickling dished out. Neat, huh?"
Yes. That is neat. Cool idea.
Angela opened a small compartment between Samantha's thighs and fitted the box into its housing. Next she picked up Samantha's jacket and sweater. The sweater disappeared into one of the bike's paniers and then Angela helped Samantha shrug into the leather jacket.

"Can't really ride around with you jacketless can we? You'd get awful chilly."

"Featherstone, you ever hear the saying what goes around comes around?" Samantha said.
Ah an early promise of revenge, I dig it.
"You know Sammie, you can be pretty frosty at times. You need to lighten up a little."

"Yeah well, you're not sitting in my position."

"Hands on the saddle bar behind you please." Angela said.

As soon as Samantha put her hands on the bar she felt a pair of fur lined cuffs slip over her wrists locking them to the small bar.

"Hey, wha---" Her words were cut off as Angela quickly stuffed a wad of material in her mouth. In a few deft moves the redhead had effectively fastened her onto the bike and gagged her. A black strap went around her arms, cinching her elbows to minimise her movement even further. Samantha's blue eyes blazed in fury.

"Come now Agent Storm," Angela said, her attitude all business now. "You are being tested for operational status. You didn't think I was going to let you off lightly did you?" The redhead winked at Samantha. Then she pushed her hands under Samantha's open jacket and quickly goosed her sides. A muffled squeal was all Samantha could muster as the redhead's cold fingers squeezed at her.

"Ooh, this is going to be fun. Well...for me anyway." Angela grinned as Samantha squirmed in her seat."

Angela used a strip of masking tape to bind the wires together and then another strip attached them to Samantha's belt buckle. Her knuckles lightly grazed Samantha's tummy which provoked more little ticklish flinches. "Settle down, Sammie. I haven't even got started yet and you're jumping all over the place."

She nodded at her handiwork. "There, that ought to keep those in place." She couldn't resist giving the spot above Samantha's knees a quick squeeze. So she did, with predicable results. The bound brunette yelped into her gag as the redhead chuckled mischievously.
I like Angela. She's playful and really seems to be on Samantha's side so far.
A bandana was wrapped over the lower half of Samantha's face to disguise the gag and then a blindfold and a pair of wraparound shades went over her eyes. Angela pushed a crash helmet over Samantha's head and zipped up her jacket. As she zipped up the collar she let her fingernails slide under the bandana and lightly tickle Samantha's neck. The bound agent's head whipped sideways and muffled a giggle sounded from beneath the gag.
Angela has really thought this through. It seems no one spent more time planning this than her.
"Okey doke! We're all set here Agent Storm. Let's go."

Angela pulled on her own jacket and helmet and lithely straddled her bike. She keyed the ignition and revved the machine lightly a few times.

Instantly, Samantha felt a gentle tickling sensation spread across her torso. She wriggled in her seat but no matter how she tried to move, the ticklish vibrations followed her. It was horrible, the sensation was not quite hard enough to be finger tickling, not quite soft enough to be a feather and not wet enough to be a tongue tickle or a raspberry. Instead it was an excruciating balance of all three.

"Don't worry about wriggling around. The tech boys built a neat on board gyroscope into this bike for me. Believe me, I've had some real strugglers on the back of this baby."
Sounds like Angela's adventures could be a series of their own. Her machine seems almost perfect.
With that, the redhead revved the bike hard and the ticklish sensations increased in instensity. Samantha felt invisible fingers play across her waist, ribs and underarms. She couldn't see, she couldn't speak and she couldn't move. She wriggled helplessly as the merciless machine sent wave after wave of ticklish sensations through her.

Angela rode up out of the garage and within minutes they were they were in regular traffic. As the bike hit the tarmac of the highway Samantha felt a new torment. The seat between her legs began to vibrate against her inner thighs. She tried to raise herself up slightly but the redhead had known what she was doing when she strapped Samantha to the seat.

A voice crackled into her helmet. "Hi Sammie, there's a one-way mike in here so I can speak into your helmet and make sure you don't get bored. You've probably noticed that even the bike seat is wired up for your pleasure - ha ha ha. I hope you remebered to pee before we left!"

Samantha was incandescent. She had been rendered completely helpless and between the little black box and the bike seat it felt as if a dozen hands were teasing her sensitive body. To top it off, the only other sensory input she had was the redhead's teasing voice.

"Hey you wanna see how fast this baby can go?" Angela asked.
This is amazing and part 1 isn't even over yet.
The redhead opened the throttle and the bike shot up the highlway. Samantha laughed into her gag as the invisible fingers caressed her helpless, ticklish body. The seat thrummed excruciatingly between her thighs. She threw her head back in silent laughter at the onslaught. Within minutes her whole body was trembling. It was lucky the bike was modified for stability.

In her helmet Samantha heard Angela begin to butcher a rock classic.

"Get your motor runnin..."
Head out on the highway...
There's gonna be some tickling...
And it's gonna last ALL day...!"

Samantha's mind reeled Did the agency really employ wackos like this?
Angela's life story is probably really interesting.
"Born to be tiiiickled!!!
Born to be tiiiickled!!!"

Vainly, Samantha tried to dislodge the pads attached to her body but she didn't have the range of motion to do it and they were too well-secured. She tried sucking her belly in as far as she could and wriggling from side to side but nothing worked. She resigned herself to the fact that she had been set up by a professional. With her sight blocked Samantha's mind began to present unsettling images. She envisaged disembodied ghostly hands with long thin fingers tickling freely all over her immobilised body. Cackling tormentors laughed unseen in the background at her fruitless struggles and helpless giggles. She blinked hard beneath her blindfold and tried to shut the imagery out but without much success.

Tears of laughter dampened Samantha's blindfold and her body shook. When the bike moved slowly the tickling was like the tantalising kiss of a feather, when it moved fast it was like the torment of relentless fingers.

How on earth would she get through this? Should she give in to the sensations, try to fight them? Tense all her muscles? Nothing she tried would give her refuge. Samantha's body slumped as she gave up trying to fight the tickling and she let the machine do its dastardly work. She realised darkly that all she could do was to literally grin and (try to) bear it.

The bike began to slow down and the vigorous invisible fingers that were tickling Samantha's belly and sides turned into marginally more bearable fluttering feathers. The bike came to a halt and the ignition was turned off. Mercifully the tickling stopped.
Great sequence. Insights in to how Samantha is feeling and what she is thinking are always welcome.
Samantha's body was buzzing and the uncomfortable throbbing seat had turned her thighs to jelly. She was hot and sweaty under her jacket and her arms ached from her restrained position. All she wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep but the chances of that were almost nil.

"How you doing back there?" Angela asked. Samantha felt her dismount from the bike. "I've pulled in at a rest stop to fill the tank. Don't go anywhere! Hee hee hee."

On one level Samantha wanted to throttle the redhead for what she was putting her though but on another level she had a grudging respect for her. Featherstone had been told to work her over and she was doing just that.
Stuff like this makes Samantha compelling. Also,throughout the series, I feel like we're really seeing an evolution of Samantha's mindset regarding tickling.
Angela finished filling the bike and then her attention to Samantha. "Right let's see how you're doing." The redhead yanked down the zipper on Samantha's jacket and gently opened it. Samantha shivered slightly as the cool evening breeze washed over her body.

The redhead checked the box was intact and then made sure that the leads were still snugged against her captive's belt buckle. She ran her fingers lightly over Samantha's body as she checked the contact pads. Samantha's chest and belly were rising and falling with her breathing and Angela could feel the residual trembling of her body as her fingertips brushed against tormented flesh. The redhead noticed that her captive's nipples had become aroused and were poking again the silky fabric of her bra.

"Well I guess that means you like me or the bike seat." Angela chuckled. She smiled to herself and zipped up the jacket. She checked Samantha's leg straps and then gave her knees another ticklish squeeze which resulted in a satisfying flinch. "Time to go, Sammie! Giddyup!"

Samantha could have almost cried as she felt the bike kick into life and the ticklish sensations began their tantalising torment once again. The brief respite over, it didn't take long for the muffled tearful laughter to start up again.

Worse was yet to come. After a few miles of regular traffic, Samantha felt the bike turn onto a dirt road.

"Just a little shortcut I know." Angela's voice crackled through the helmet mike. "Might get a little bumpy for you! Hee hee hee."

Now the tickling took on a new dimension. The bike slowed down but the uneven surface caused the box's invisible fingers to start poking. Samantha's ribs, armpits and belly were subjected to a series of rapid jabs. She gasped into her gag. She tried tensing against the torment but every time she did a well placed poke would break her composure and she would dissolve into giggles as other fingers joined the fun.

The machine almost seemed intelligent, it seemed to know just what to do to administer the most merciless tickles. Samantha lost track of time as Angela gunned the bike across dirt roads and highways. For all she knew they could have been going round in circles.
This wouldn't be surprising at all, it's SO Angela.
Once again Samantha's mind succumbed to sadistic imagery. She imagined herself suspended by her wrists in a blackened room. Sinister chuckling wafted from all corners of the room. Hands loomed out of the darkness to tickle and poke at her at will. Fingers fluttered up and down her sides, squeezed her ribs, poked into her belly button and wriggled in her armpits. The more she laughed and struggled, the more they tickled her. She was their defenceless tickle slave until they got bored, which they never seemed to.

"NO! Samantha had to stop this. She couldn't let her mind work against her in this way.

Miraculously the bike began to slow down and Samantha felt her mind come back into focus.

The bike came to a stop and she felt Angela dismount. Her helmet was pulled off and so were shades and blindfold.

Samantha blinked hard a few times and let her eyes adjust to the light.

"We're in my garage. It leads directly to my house. OK?"

Samantha nodded. She looked hopefully to see if Angela was wearing the white armband but she wasn't. Deep down the field agent knew it wouldn't have been that easy.

"If I take the gag off are you going to be civil?" Angela asked, "If you decide to kick up a racket I'll keep you gagged for the duration of the assessment. You gonna play nice?"

Samantha nodded again and Angela leaned forward and removed the bandana and the sopping wet gag. The brunette worked her jaw around.

"Damn, that feels better." Samantha was surprised at how her voice trembled. That little black box was an evil little piece of machinery. "Could I have a drink?"

Angela fished out a water bottle and let Samantha drain half of it in two long glugs. She jerked the bottle away and water dribbled down Samantha's chin.

"You're still under test conditions. I'm going to take you inside now. I know you're dangerous so you'll stay cuffed."

Angela uncuffed Samantha's wrists from the bike and took the strap from around her elbows. She then unzipped Samantha's jacket, dragged it off her shoulders and recuffed her wrists behind her back. She removed the contacts from her body and tugged the wires free from her belt. She used baby wipes on Samantha's upper body, not minding that it tickled the poor woman as she did so. Samantha giggled as her torso was given a nice rubbing.

"Aww...does it tickle?" Angela asked with a pout. She unstrapped Samantha's legs from the bike. "OK, you can get off now.

Samantha swung one leg over the bike but when she tried to stand her legs gave way. She pitched forward but Featherstone caught her, wrapping her arms around her.

"A little shaky there, huh Sammie?" Angela held the trembling brunette close against her and gazed down mischievously, her green eyes twinkling. "Yeah that bike of mine can do that to a girl... or a guy."

"You're not always going to be the one in control." Samantha breathed defiantly.

Angela cocked an eyebrow quizzically. "Maybe not, but right now you are firmly under my control and I am not nearly done with you yet."
Samantha does routinely tickle those who tickle her.
With surprising strength Angela hoisted Samantha over her shoulder into a fireman's carry.

"Come on Sammie. I'll show you my place." She patted the upended agent's rear through tight denim. "You won't believe what I've got in store for you!"

Samantha was too tired and weakened to struggle and felt totally helpless. She wondered what the redhead had in store for her.

Angela hummed merrily to herself as she carried her ticklish captive into the house. There was nothing the redhead enjoyed more than tickling and a beauty like Samantha Storm was a rare prize indeed. She couldn't wait to get started.


TO BE CONTINUED....

Angela is tickling star and she barely done anything yet. The imagery of Samantha's mind is new and unique. I wonder if she'll be in a position where she will imagine Angela or a group of Angela's tickling her.
 
To answer your question, the 1970's police interrogation thing is a nod to a BAC cartoon. I liked it so much I used it in a story called 'We have ways of making you talk, Senorita' which was also the origin story of Miss Ramirez.
 
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