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View Full Version : Many thanks to Squeekels for inspiring me.



ticklishscribe
03-09-2012, 03:51 AM
Comments left here are always appreciated.


You’re Screwed!!!
Inspired by Squeekels,
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c.


Ash was tied spread eagled and so tight the only parts of her she could move was her head, hands and feet. She looked up at four people who grinned evilly back at her and began squirming.

“It was so nice of you to come to the theatre at this late hour Ash; we do so appreciate it. Girls meet Tosca, the one… AND latecomer who beat us ALL out for the role.

The girls loomed over her even more and one girl slowly gripped her chin and moved her head from side to side, then let go.

“She hasn’t even got the looks for Tosca, Celia. Oh yeah… she has a passable voice and can scream when necessary.”

“Well she can scream all she likes now, and no one but us will hear her,” Said another girl.

“She may have beaten us out for the role, but Tosca didn’t wear sneakers, jeans and t-shirts.”

“Agreed.” Celia added. “She needs her Tosca dress… but later.”

“I think tying her to the bed where the big love scene happens was rather appropriate, don’t you.”

“Yes,” Celia replied, “We have no love for her and with what I have in mind she’ll be jumping off the bed long before she jumps off the castle wall.

Ash squealed and began writhing, violently straining at the bonds that held her. Celia reached out and grabbed her chin, holding her head still and then leaned forward.

“I wanted that roll,” She spoke coolly, “I’m Tosca, and you walk in at the last minute and steal it out from under me. Well here’s where you rehearse all the high notes, my… sweet… little… Tos-ca.”

“What have you got in mind?” Asked one of the girls.

“I’m going to make her sing. I’m going to make her scream. And the only way to do it is to do this.” And with that she dig her fingers into Ash’s ribs and the poor girl squeaked then squealed, arched her back then began to writhe all over.

“Oh how nice; someone’s got it bad here.”

This is where we will learn her most secret secrets as to where she is ticklish and what techniques drive her insane. Once we have learned all that we will to tickle torture her to the point that she’ll promise us anything. Isn’t that right ash?”

“Someone’s going nowhere hey Ash and someone’s going to be tickled”

Ash squealed and began violently writhing, but the bondage held her fast. Her head moved all over as she watched them spread out around her. One girl wriggled Ash’s sneakered feet and the poor girl squealed and writhed them about.

“I think we should do a slow sneaker and sock removal as we want her on the edge even before the tickling starts.”

Ash didn’t like hearing any of this and she began to buck wildly. Slowly her secrets were either being revealed or had been revealed. And she certainly didn’t like the group looking at pics of her close up. All her tickle and erogenous spots in living colour for them to discuss and analyse intensely.

“And I think we’ll start with a very soft spider tickling of the armpits, before you dig in.’

“Mmmmm delicious. I’ll have her sensually frantic and hysterical in no time. Those jeans have to come off though but that’s nothing.”

Ash shrieked and continued to buck, even more violently pulling on the restraints. They were going to strip her.

“Strip her, stroke her and stretch every nerve ending to the limit and beyond.”

Ash screamed no and fought like a wildcat to free her self, screaming again as a girl at the foot of the bed once more gripped her sneakered feet. She pumped her legs to free her feet and desperately tried to pull them out of the girl’s grip.

“Keep it up girl, as it only makes me want them even more. And as far as I’m concerned your feet are now toast.” And with that she laughed, gripped the feet tighter and wriggled them once more. “And I plan to get them all toasty warm and fuzzy.”

Ash screamed once more and continued to violently struggle, causing everyone to laugh and the girl on her feet to announce the first sneaker was about to come off. She gripped the toe of the right one with one hand and gripped the heel with the other. She playfully wriggled the foot about, tightening her grip on the heel and slowly pulling it away from the foot, then moving it back in again.

“Just you wait till I get to peeling your sock off here, as I plan to do that ever so tickly and cuddly and at great length too.”

Ash screamed again, not knowing what the girl meant by getting cuddly with her feet and being fervidly ravenous for them. Again she pumped her legs, pulled and writhed her feet and now squealed repeatedly.

The girl giggled quietly and evilly and continued to grip the foot by the toe and heel. Instantly Ashe’s feet continued to spasm and writhe and she began begging and pleading for them to leave her feet alone.

Now she gripped the heel of the sneaker firmer and slowly drew it away from the heel of her foot, hearing it slowly pop off the heel, then she released the foot altogether. Ashe’s foot writhed intensely and the sneaker was becoming looser and looser on the foot. Suddenly the girl reached out and grabbed the toe again, holding it tight and still.

“I don’t want you writhing your foot and putting it back on, so lets finish this job shall we?” And with that she removed the sneaker, held it aloft and tossed it behind her.

“Man I love how socks don’t hide the shape of the foot. And she has got a shapely foot. I can’t wait to get cuddly, cozy and tickly.” She then grabbed the toes of the foot and slowly began bending them back, taking her sweet time in doing so, Ash tenaciously fought the bending, but the girl was finally able to bend them back. She then slithered a single finger inside the sock and began to slowly slide it from side to side just around the ankle.

Ash was in overdrive, with continuous bucking and arching her back almost to the breaking point, continuous guttural begging and pleading and her feet intensely writhing. She held the foot firm and continued the slow and intensely torturous peeling. The girl was calm and smiling sweetly, admiring the sole as it became exposed before her and it was here that she was getting a look at one of Ash’s oh so tender high arches. Now the whole arch was revealed and the girl was in total ecstasy. Ashe’s foot was really writhing as the girl now revealed her tender instep and soft pad under the toes. It was at this point she stopped the peeling and let go of her foot, which continued to writhe. She then began a game of catch as catch can with the poor girl’s sock covered toes and was peeling the sock off them a bit at a time with each grab. Ash was hysterical at this point, knowing that her sock was imminently going to come off and that her extremely and intensely ticklish bare foot was going to be tickled. Suddenly the sock was completely off and like her sneaker. The girl held it high as though it were a trophy. This was it, the moment had arrived and Ash screamed for all she was worth.

“Now this is a foot that I could definitely torture… and will.”

Ash screamed and writhed her foot all over, but a swift hand came out of nowhere and grabbed the toes, holding them rock solid still. A single finger from another hand began lightly and rapidly short stroking the arch where it met the ball of the foot and Ash screamed again then cackled and writhed like a banshee. The finger was swift, soft and murderous and Ash was laughing non stop and bucking like crazy. Insane laughter had stolen any hope of words to try and free herself and her continuous bucking and writhing was steeling any hope of renewed strength to try and free herself.

“Now this little stroke can’t be that bad can it? The way you’re acting it’s pure torture.”

She couldn’t answer as the laughter held her voice prisoner and the bucking and writhing was stealing any strength she had left. Suddenly the girl stopped and she heaved a sigh of relief, but her relief was short lived as the girl grabbed her other foot, and proceed to slowly unlace the sneaker. Again she bucked and writhed and suddenly she found her voice and began hysterically begging and pleading for the girl to stop. Suddenly the lace was undone and the girl began wrestling the sneaker loose from her foot, as she vainly tried to shove her foot into it to keep it on. But the girl playfully and teasingly wrestled it a bit more the wrestled it off with ease, holding it in triumph and then casually tossing it away. Ash screamed when this happened and her foot writhed even more and her bucking and writhing returned with a wildcat vengeance.

“One sock to go and you’re screwed. You’re screwed, your feet are screwed and I’m in heaven. I am so liking this and plan on giving these feet one hell of an intense workout. These wide size nines will give me everything I have long desired and fervidly fantasized about.”

Ash screamed once more and began hysterically begging and pleading again and this only caused the girl to laugh and slowly bend the toes back.

“Could this be the opera version of the Taming of the Screwed Shrew?”

“You may have an idea there. And what an opera it would make, with continuous arias.”

Ash screamed as the other sock was whipped off and violent writhed in the restraints. Her feet flailed all over and she instinctively scrunched the toes on that foot, but suddenly screamed again as the other girl reached out and quickly gripped them firm. Slowly bending them back she slid her fingers from side to side over the joints and Ash screamed and bucked like crazy.

“Who’s singing beautiful arias now eh? You’re just screeching like a scorned old washer women. Now more Tosca for you princess; scream for us washer woman, scream for us!”

Ash screamed more as the fingers got lower and lower and murderously entered her arch. The ravenously tickling fingers were everywhere, flying from top to bottom, tracing the outer edges, tracing the ball of the foot and raking faster and faster.

“Shall I tickle you in tune to the opening of the barber of Seville, my washer woman? Or the ride of the Valkeries?”

The girl continued to rake her fingers, first going clockwise, then raking in the centre from side to side then raking in the opposite direction. Five more fingers made her scream more and the bed was almost violently rocking.

“Why don’t you guys go through my big opera book there and see what opera would fit her?”

“Shall we strip this washer woman?” Asked another girl.

“Later, first I want to see what makes her tick and tick-l-lish. Wide feet need to be tickled and someone needs to be put in her place. Imagine her ten toes as arias.”

Ash screamed and flailed her feet about, but both of them were instantly grabbed and held.

”This little aria desperately wants me to tickle it.” The girl wriggled the toe and watched with fervid delight as the other toes instantly curled up. “Yes it desperately wants me to tickle it. Will you sing while tickle?”

She unclenched the second toe and slowly wriggled it, while watching the big toe try to clench and giggled evilly to herself.

“This little Aria is easy to unclench and tickle.” She stroked the toe’s joint and delighted in Ashe’s continuous writhing. “This little middle aria got tickled as well.”

Ash was bucking up a storm and laughing hysterically; she couldn’t stand her toes being touched, let alone her arches. But the fingers were incessant, randomly tweaking, twisting, bending and torturing the helpless tootsies.

“NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Her words trailed off into hysterical high pitched laughter that suddenly went deeper.

“Oh come on now, you can sing better than that. You can pass this audition. Only this audition is for the usher’s job.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck!”

“Awwwww, our little Tosca is swearing.”

“Well we’ll show Tosca who’s the bossca.

Both of Ashe’s feet were now being intensely tickled and the fingers on her arches were horrible as well as under her toes. The nerve endings were being barraged and each stroke seem to be worst than the previous one. Her mind was slowly dissolving, under a siege of tickles that never let up. The tickles were taking each nerve ending on a slow death march, hammering and hammering and hammering away with each stroke. The fingers traced the arches and balls of her feet then swiftly raked across under her toes, then back down to the arches again. She was bucking, writhing and screaming, trying to form words, trying to beg them to stop, but all the while slowly loosing to the abyss of tickles. Her voice was cracking, her screaming now going silent and her begging now ceasing. Suddenly the tickling stopped

“Lets get that top off, Tosca didn’t wear psychedelics.”

Ashe screamed as the girls began pushing her shirt up; exposing her tummy, sides, ribs and armpits, to imminent and torturous tickling. She screamed again as fingers grazed those spots as the shirt was pulled over her head, creating a blindfold that instantly robbed her of sight. Suddenly fingers spidered in her armpits and she began bucking and writhing again, desperately straining at the restraints that held her arms up and kept her armpits wide open. Fear ravenously gnawed away at her, like a wolf savaging its kill, tearing, ripping and shredding it piece by piece and devouring it.

Fingers now pinched her ribs, traced them from side to side, spidered up and down her sides, traced her tummy, encircling her button like a wolf circles its prey, before lunging in for the kill. She continued to buck and writhe and her screams returned with a vengeance as the upper body tickles took hold. Suddenly even more tickles took hold as she felt someone resuming on her feet once more and she screamed like never before.


The theatre reverberated with her screams and she could almost feel the walls pulsating, vibrating, any windows ready to instantly shatter. She was about to bring down the house, but definitely not with her performance as Tosca. The girls were evil and the tickling torture and she was becoming insane. Everywhere they touched tickled intensely, everywhere they stroked screamed along with her, every muscle in her body screamed in pain from the bucking and writhing and every moment seemed longer than the last. Suddenly and without warning the girl ordered the others to stop and she heaved and shook all over.

“Is our little Tosca ready for her final and most orgasmically pleasing performance? I hope so because she didn’t wear jeans.”