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Tickle Pimp in Athens part 1 (m/f, f/f)

Kid Indy

TMF Expert
Joined
Oct 12, 2001
Messages
365
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Tickle Pimp in Athens

part I

by Kid Indy

On a Friday night, in downtown Athens, Georgia, three slightly tipsy sorority girls were enjoying a night out. Having strolled until their walking urge needed rest, they now sat at a wrought iron table outside one of the many restaurants in the college town. Talking about money and life and the future, they all were taken a bit aback when a woman in her late twenties approached the table. She was dressed in a smart gray suit, and stylish sunglasses concealed her eyes.

She extended her hand to the nearest of the three and introduced herself confidently. "I'm Joy Evans. Have any of you ladies heard of Athens Image?"

"Is that the new advertising company that I read about?" inquired Laura,
a lean sophomore.

"Yes, our offices are over on the east side of town. Here's our card." She flicked a bright green card out of a wallet and handed it to Laura. Her friends, Michelle and Carrie, eyed the stranger as she continued. "We've contracted some ads for local department stores, and we wanted to get some college students to do the modelling for us. It won't pay quite as well as a normal modelling shoot, but we are a new company. At any rate, I'm certain we'll pay any of the three of you better than most college kid jobs around here." Joy scanned the three at the table. Laura, whose dark blonde hair was tied back, had the most potential; her toned limbs, exposed in the Southern humidity, displayed an even tan and a healthy glow. Carrie's red hair would certainly fetch some customers, even though her lighter skin and fuller figure were farther from the swimsuit model type. And Michelle, another girl with a lovely tan, had the kind of alert eyes that signalled some native intelligence; she could be marketed to the right audience as well.

Of the three Laura spoke first. "So what kind of business are we advertising for?"

"Right now a car dealership. We can only take one of you right now, and if our customers like you, there will likely be more business in the future."

Carrie shot back, "So this is just a one-time thing for now?"

"In a sense. We'll likely require you for at least four sessions, but if you draw business and you want to keep making easy money, the work will probably be there." The girls looked at each other with smiles and slight giggles. Joy eyed the three of them behind her shades and smiled. Across the street, Jim was smiling as well.

The large man with the shaved head and equally dark glasses was sitting in the driver's seat of the Athens Image van listening to the conversation through a hidden microphone in Joy's jacket. He listened as the more talkative girl--he thought it must be Laura--inquired about the pay rate, which Joy concealed just as they had rehearsed. He knew the drill--they had worked it out well before moving from the outskirts of a major city to the east side of a midsize college town. Approach a group. Set up competition. Pique their curiosity. Get them alone. Nab them. It was more complicated than his old grab-and-sell jobs back in the big city, but Joy had convinced him that it would be more lucrative and safer in the long run. And Joy knew her numbers. Jim's specialty was the tickling part. He was fine making the business end more complicated. He was still the tickle pimp.

A couple of days passed before they got the first phone call. Joy picked it up and gave Jim the thumbs-up as she fielded it and got Laura's name.

"I'm not sure I should be doing this, but I really need the money. Can I come in and see what kind of shoot it is?"

"Sure thing, Laura. Can I get your phone number and other information?" After a couple minutes taking down this info, Joy set up an appointment an hour later. "Jim, get the studio ready. We've got a bite."

Laura showed up on a Thursday afternoon for the "shoot." Joy greeted her at the door and showed her to a descending staircase. Seeing the young lady's apprehension, Joy explained that they wanted to control the light, so they did the shoots in the basement, and Laura seemed to accept this. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she saw lighting equipment, a camera, and an open dressing room off to the side, and her fears began to subside. Joy showed her the outfit she would wear for the shoot, a pair of tight jean shorts and a University of Georgia T-shirt that barely covered her ribs. As she changed, Joy called to her and told her that she should also leave her shoes and socks in the dressing room. Feeling a bit like a Hooters girl but still enjoying the prospect of making money modelling, Laura changed into the outfit without objection. When she emerged from the door, a massive shadow swooped in from behind the door, and before she knew it, she was bent over a huge shoulder.

With practiced efficiency, Jim carried Laura over to the tickle bench, secured her bare feet in the stocks, and took her right wrist so that he could place the padded cuff on it. Joy, having been taught the same efficiency, did the same with the left wrist. Laura screamed, but the basement had no windows, and the Georgia dirt was not telling any secrets this day. She tried to kick, but her feet were secure in the padded restraint and could not reach her captors, and neither arm on its own could resist either of them. In less than a minute, she was helpless to move more than her hands, which could only wave futilely in the air above her head, and her feet, which she could only rotate in the stocks.

Jim and Joy stood back to size up their catch. Laura was medium height, probably five and a half feet, with an even tan that went all the way to her beautiful feet. Her long brown hair, streaked with blond and bound in French braids for the "shoot," gave her a look that was at once youthful and enticing. Her long, athletic legs had just enough muscular definition that her straining against the bonds could be detected on their surfaces. She was almost tangibly irresistable dressed in tiny red shorts that read "DAWGS" across the backside and a red UGA tank top that came up almost her ribs. Her tight belly, stretched by the cuffs above her head, showed no signs of being neglected on her sun tanning trips. Jim was obviously enjoying this as he emerged from behind the photo equipment with what looked like a surgeon's cart. Laura looked horrified as she saw the feathers, oils, and hairbrushes that graced the top of the cart.

"You see, Laura," Joy started, "our advertising business is only part of what we do. We're an entertainment company."

"I don't want this kind of entertainment!"

"This kind of entertainment is free to you, kid," Jim chimed in. "In fact, it pays pretty well if you work for us a while."

Laura's head snapped away from Jim and towards her feet as Joy began to rub warm oil on them. "NO! Don't touch my feet!"

"But they're so nice, Laura! And soft! Do you take care of them?"

Laura didn't know what to say to get rid of this strange woman. "No, I don't... please don't touch my feet!"

"Well, you've just got some naturally soft soles and toes, then. Now the ball and heel look like you've been working out on them. Do you work out, Laura?"

Laura could feel, but not see, Joy's fingers caressing her soles and working the oil into her skin. "Yes, I do! Please stop!"

"I'm not even doing anything yet, dear... Give us some time!"

"Please, let me go! I won't tell anybody!"

Jim once again spoke. "You're right about that. Remember, I used to be CIA. You start turning the authorities on us, I make you disappear. And you won't like where you reappear. There are places, Laura, where money can hide a harem. And I'm in contact with some fiendish Sultan-types. You understand?" Laura nodded. "Good. Now let me tell you the rules. I do not sell women for sex. I'm in a more specialized business. No harm will come to you, and nobody will rape you. What they will do is tickle you for a certain amount of time for a certain amount of money."

"No, please! I hate being tickled!"

"Well, most of them like it that way. That's why we tie you up. But you get a cut of what we take in, and the money is very good. What kind of money would you make, say, waiting tables?"

"I don't know... please don't tickle me!"

"Okay, you're nervous. I can understand that. Alright, let's say you make three bucks an hour, plus ten an hour in tips. That would be a good night, right?"

Laura, confronted by the math problem, was stricken by a sudden calm. "Yeah, that would be good."

"Work for us, Laura, and you'll make anywhere from eighty to five hundred for half an hour."

"Really? For tickling?"

"People will pay quite a bit to tickle an unwilling victim who's not a hooker without fear of punishment. It's a fantasy that costs money instead of jail time. And it pays great. But it feels like this." Jim began to twirl a feather around the rim of Laura's belly button.

Laura began to hop, as best she could, from side to side on the bench, now convinced that this was not the way to make money. She attempted at first to maintain a commanding voice to tell this man to stop, but her voice raised in pitch and began to crack as he continued with the feather. "No, no no! I don't want to do this!"

"If I let you out now, you'd never know how much you can take. And this is all about learning, right?" He ran the feather up and down her ribs, and she began to let out a slow, thin, high moan. After a few passes, he set the feather down on the cart. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Again, Laura only wanted to answer in a way that would let her out. "No, but I don't want any more."

"Okay. No more feathers for a while." With that he began to grab her legs just above the knee, first one then the other, each squeeze of the knee drawing a squeal from the nineteen-year-old. Despite her wishes, her blue eyes were lighting up from the game that she could not choose to quit, and her smile was enough to melt the heart. But Jim was not a man of the heart, and he kept squeezing and teasing until she began to giggle continuously, at which point he shifted and took hold of her sides, squeezing eight fingers into them and throwing Laura's head backwards in a roar of laughter. Now her humiliation was over; she had been forced into real laughs against her will, and her desire to get out was not strong enough to keep her from the unending moan. Only the squeals that new tickles brought could end that.

When Jim started to tickle her armpits, Laura tried with everything she had left to pull herself up by her wrists, but the reactions of her muscles to the merciless fingers would not let her arms and torso coordinate and pull her body weight up, so once again she was reduced to sitting, head back in near ecstasy, as Jim's fingers explored and exploited all that warm, ticklish flesh between arms and ribs. Laura's vision began to blur just slightly, and she realized that she might be losing consciousness. Before she could decide whether that would be a good or bad thing, Jim let up. Sweating slightly and red in the face, she turned her head to see Jim over her left shoulder. He was walking towards the wall, and Joy was approaching from the other direction.

"Please, Joy, just let me out. I don't wany any of your money. I just want to go home!"

Joy's eyes, still masked behind sunglasses, narrowed as she smiled. "Your money is coming to you when we're done, Laura. You might as well enjoy the rest of this." Her hands were now rubbing the younger woman's feet, relaxing them even as Laura was tensing in anticipation of further torture. "Remember, you're in for at least three paying sessions before you can decide to get out. And by then, I think you'll..." Joy's fingernail ran up Laura's oiled sole as she said, "enjoy it."

Laura tensed again and braced for what she knew she could not avoid. One of Joy's fingers now scooted down each sole, and Laura's breaths came in short gasps. Seeing that the anticipation was threatening to hyperventilate her, Joy gladly began tickling in earnest, scratching and scribbling all across both soles. When the victim's soles scrunched in an attempt to protect themselves, Joy nodded to Jim, who began to prepare the toe-ties. While she waited, Joy decided to focus on the left foot, pulling back the big toe while she went to work on the delicate sole. Laura was beyond resistance; her laughter was wild with abandon.

Later, when Laura would think about this night, she would remember the strange sensation that came from an older, more experienced tickle-woman working on her defenseless feet. Laura had never experienced in any clear way a desire to be with a woman, but this helplessness was a sensation that troubled and excited her. At the moment, however, she could only laugh and think about just how ticklish she was feeling. Her abdominal muscles, toned from hours in the gym, were still beginning to burn with the exertion of maintaining the laugh that she only wanted to stop.

With Laura's eyes shut in ticklish agony, Jim quickly and expertly looped two bands around her big toes and pulled the elastic band back over a hook on top of the stocks. Now Joy's hands were both free to inflict the actual tickling, and she went after the coed's soles with gusto. Sweat was now flowing freely as her voice started to go hoarse with the laughing. Joy's fingers flew over the tight-stretched skin of Laura's soles, and every line that her fingernails drew was turning Laura's legs into conduits of uncomfortable pleasure.

Joy licked her lips before she let up momentarily and said, "Now, Laura, I'm going to keep you barely giggling for a while. This is what you're going to face for hours and hours should you ever cross us." Laura was somewhat relieved; the intense tickling was almost more than she could bear. But when the tickling began anew, she realized that this was no favor; Joy's fingers now barely traced circles along the edges of her heels, and her weakened willpower could not keep her from giggling, like tipsy freshman girls giggle, and however much she wanted to rest, the fingers just kept going. Joy's eyes were on the clock, and she only kept it up for ten minutes, but Laura was perfectly convinced: more than a few minutes of this would be agony. When Joy got up, Laura's entire torso was sore from the giggling.

Jim now spoke: "Now we want you back here in a week's time. You'll have two more training sessions, then we're going to start bringing in paying clients. Tonight is going to get you a hundred bucks; the next two will be a hundred fifty. After that the real money starts." He walked over to her still-bound feet and traced a slow, agonizing circle around the ball and sole of her left foot as he finished, "You're part of our business now, Laura. Remember, don't tell anybody, and come back when we tell you. I'm sure you'll get a ton of laughs out of it."

They releaased Laura and sent her on her way.
 
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