As I wash the dishes, the warm, soapy water splashes on my bare breasts. I barely
notice anymore. I’ve been topless now for more than a month, and feeling the wind, a
splashes of water or even a long, hot tongue on my nipples is starting to feel normal. So is
being a slave. I no longer dream of being free.
Two weeks ago, I was Vicki Delany, 21 year old college student. Now I’m the
Great Roxanne’s pet. Yes, you’ve probably heard of the Great Roxanne. She’s been on
Letterman and Leno, billed as the world’s greatest hypnotist. And she is. Her hypnotism
is what keeps me her prisoner. It is stronger than any chain or cell door.
Looking out the open window, I see the green grass and blue skies. Freedom. It
would be so easy just to jump out. But I can’t. I know Roxanne has planted many
post-hypnotic suggestions in my brain. I don’t know what most of them are, but I know
one will trigger if I move towards an outside door or window. And I won’t like the result.
I finish the dishes, wipe the blonde hair from my eyes, and dry some suds off my
left breast. That was the last thing on my chore list for today. With all my chores done
and done well (I hope!) the master may not punish me tonight. After last night...I just
wouldn’t have the strength for anymore!
Yesterday, I had forgotten to make my bed. It hadn’t been intentional, god
knows! I had learned long ago what happens when I didn’t follow my chores, I had just
forgotten. I was relaxing on the couch, enjoying the little free time Roxanne gave me
when I heard Roxanne sneak up behind me and begin whispering in my ear. Then my
world began to dissolve, like a chalk painting left out in the rain.
I was no longer sitting on a couch, but running for my life on a desolate road,
completely naked. All around me, I can hear the howl of wolves, each one closer than the
last. My heart is in my chest, and the fear is practically choking me!
Soon, I can see the wolves, huge shaggy creatures, loping after me almost
effortlessly. It doesn’t take long before one has caught up to me. Instead of nipping at
my heels, however, he licks me with one long sweep of his tongue. It starts right above
my ankle, and slides with hot wetness up my calf and across the back of my knee. A
tickling sensation starts burning up my leg with it.
The sensation follows the wolf tongue as it creeps up my thigh, and it explodes
when the tip caresses my bare behind. I shriek with laughter, trying to run faster to escape
the tongue.
There’s no way! The creature matches my pace with ease, licking again and again.
The wolf’s tongue is almost as rough as sandpaper but slippery as an eel, and it sends
electric jolts of ticklishness from where ever it touches, especially behind my knees and the
back of my thighs. I’m giggling harder and harder now.
You can’t laugh and run hard. Soon I miss a step, and I’m falling. My body hits
the pavement with surprisingly little pain. I look up, expecting to see one wolf, but there
is a dozen, sitting around me in a ring.
For a second, the universe holds its breath, waiting. Then the wolves are on top of
me. Now not just one tongue but many are roaming on my naked body. Some keep
licking my legs, now able to get between my thighs as well. Others are tormenting my
belly, lightly caressing with a feathers touch. They make me throw back my head and
howl with hysterics, fluttering across my delicate skin. Worst of all, is the one tongue
slurping at my bellybutton, getting inside the tiny hole and curling maddeningly.
More tongues start on my ribcage. There they are stronger, licking yes, but also
poking and squeezing like fingers. They make my upper body twist and turn, trying to
escape from them. I push one or two wolf muzzles away, but more unerringly find the
ticklish mark.
Now my arms won’t move at all. They’re stuck high above my head, each one
having a wolf’s body curled on top of it. Looking from arm to arm, squinting to see
through the tears that are poring down my cheeks, I know what’s coming. It doesn’t help.
When the first rough tongue swirls through my underarm, a wave of tickling slams
into me, and my body spasms. Another tongue, around the edges of my underarm! I
scream with laughter, louder and louder. Each long, flowing lick sending me deeper and
deeper into complete hysteria! When a tongue starts sliding straight through the center of
my underarm, I lose it completely, twisting and turning like a woman possessed! I
can’t...its too much...TOO MUCHHH!!!!!!!
Finally, the tongues find my bare breasts, and all conscious though stops. They lap
at the undersides with quick, short flicks of their tongue that drive me insane! I squeal like
a stuck pig, loud and of a high enough pitch to shatter glass. No matter how hard I fight,
I can’t earn my poor breasts a moments peace. My voice starts cackling like a wicked
witch, breaking up like a badly tuned radio! ARRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!
And just like that, its over. I’m not lying on a road, and their are no wolves. I’m
back on the couch, and the Great Roxanne, her red hair flowing like fire, is leaning over
me.
“Now Vicki,” she says playfully, “are you going to make your bed tomorrow, or
do the big, bad wolves come and get you again!’ She accents the word ‘get’ with a quick
tickle to my ribs, making me shriek once more.
I’d been in a hypnotic trance. It was like a dream, but every bit as intense as
reality, and with no chance of waking up. I don’t know if everyone can be put into a
trance so completely, but I can. One of the reason Roxanne chose me to be her slave was
that I’m highly susceptible to hypnosis. My brain has no defense against it.
The other reason is that I’m very ticklish. You might think the idea of being
tickled as a punishment is silly, but that’s only because you’ve never been helplessly
tickled for hours on end! It’s torture, pure and simple. After you’ve been tickled like
that, you’ll do anything, and I do mean anything to never let it happen again.
Roxanne hadn’t touched me between my legs, though. For that I was both
profoundly grateful and annoyed. I was grateful because each time that woman strokes
me down their, each time Roxanne pleasures me into another explosive orgasm, I feel like
I lose a little more of my soul to her. It becomes harder to resist her, harder to want to
truly leave her.
But not being touched leaves me feeling all wound up, edgy. Horny. The tickling,
no matter how dreadful, always leaves me turned on. More turned on, in fact, than
anything else I’ve ever experienced. I’d never been anything other than heterosexual
before Roxanne, but even now a day later, part of me still longed for her touch.
I didn’t know whether to hope for Roxanne’s attention tonight, or not.
As I leave the kitchen, I hear a strange whining coming from one of the back
rooms. What could it be? Maybe I should just ignore it. It could be nothing, part of a
trap set up by Roxanne to get me to break a rule and get tickled again (she’s done it
before).
I can’t help myself. Always curious, I follow the noise. It’s definitely not coming
from Roxanne’s bedroom, which is good because its the only room in the house I’m not
allowed to enter. No, its coming from a guest bedroom, one Roxanne has had me tidy
once or twice but otherwise is never used.
Opening the door, I find one of my friends who’d been with me the night of my
abduction, Amanda Blake, lying naked on the bed! Her wrists have been tied to the bed
posts with red, silk ribbon, and her ankles, knees and big toes tied together with the same
material. A red bow has been stuck to the ribbon on her ankles. A gag is in her mouth.
For a second, I freeze. This must be another hypnotic trance! Amanda couldn’t
be here! And if she was, Amanda could easily tear through the flimsy ribbon tying her to
the bed. Something was very wrong!
I might just have turned around and walked out the door had I not been for
Amanda’s deep brown eyes. They were wide open, terrified and pleading with me. I
couldn’t turn down those eyes. I walked over to the bed and removed her gag.
Amanda starts blubbering, so fast I can’t understand her. All I can make out are
the words “Thank god, Vicki!” over and over again.
It takes me a few minutes to calm her down. Finally I get her story. It seems like
Amanda saw the car I got into the night I was kidnapped and told the cops. To Amanda’s
surprise, the police did nothing with the information. ( I’m sure Roxanne hypnotized
whoever Amanda told to forget about it. She can even do that over the phone!) So
Amanda, the rich daddies girl that she is, hired a private investigator to find the car. The
investigator found the car here.
Amanda had come to the house herself. She’d been hoping to find more evidence
so she could convince the police to do something. Unfortunately, Roxanne found Amanda
first. Everything after that, Amanda said, was a blur.
I nodded. “Why haven’t you ripped through these ribbons, Amanda?” I ask.
Here, Amanda blushes. She looks up at me with a sheepish glance, “I...I can’t bare
to damage such beautiful things. Look for they shine in the light, how smooth they are,” a
look of almost rapture was on Amanda’s face, only to be replaced by one of panic, “It
doesn’t make any sense, but when I think about tearing them, I grow queasy and light
headed. Could you please untie them for me?”
Ridiculous! But it does make sense. Amanda has been hypnotized. Once
Roxanne gets into your brain, a line drawn in the sand can be enough to keep you a
prisoner. Well, maybe I can help.
Reaching out, my fingers touch the nearest ribbon, the one around Amanda’s big
toes. I intended just to pull it apart, but when my fingers touched the ribbon’s silky
smoothness, a strange feeling came over me. A hunger if you will.
I drew my hand back slowly, and really looked at Amanda’s naked body for the
first time. Her full breasts, heaving with each breath she took, her firm legs so perfectly
curved. The way her dark brown hair bounced on her sensual shoulders. And most of all,
her feet. They were perfect, nice and pink, with high arches and long tapered toes. The
nail polish on the was the same shade of red as the ribbon, and the soles looked almost as
smooth and soft.
I wanted her. I wanted them. I froze, not moving a muscle. It could have been
minutes or hours. Time had stopped. I heard Amanda call my name several times, but
didn’t react. Inside of me, a war was brewing.
Amanda was my friend, a good friend who had come to rescue me. If I freed her
now, the two of us could probably escape. Freedom, blessed freedom! No more tickling.
But I wanted to touch her, a desire I had never felt towards any woman before in my life.
It was a sharp, almost painful need. The longer I waited, the more intense that wanting
became, more of a burning than anything else.
I tried to resist that feeling. I really did! I thought about all the good times we had
had together. I thought about how horrible it was to be tickled, about all of the torture
Roxanne had put me through, and how I would never ever want Amanda to experience
any of it. It would be so wrong of me to inflict it upon her!
But in the end, I was too weak. The hunger drove me, and I gave into it. Amanda
looked so delicious, lying their wrapped like a Christmas present. Her skin so soft,
so...tasty. I started reaching for her foot slowly. My divided brain would let me move no
faster. That foot called to me, and I was going to have it.
“What are you waiting for,” Amanda said frustrated, “Get me out of here!” I’m
sure until the last moment, she actually believed I was going to release her.
So many times since Roxanne entered my life, my body hasn’t been mine to
control. She’s played the puppet master and pulled my strings, leaving me powerless to
do anything but watch my own arms and legs betray me. How I wish Roxanne had done
that to me this time. I will have to live for the rest of my life knowing I was in command
of my hands that day. Every move they made was willed by me. If I’d only been stronger,
my best friend would have been spared much suffering.
The feel of Amanda’s silky soles beneath my fingertips sent a near orgasmic feeling
fluttering through my body. Amanda looked up at me in confusion. “What are you...”
Then I started. I attacked Amanda’s high arches, and my friend (my best friend!)
let out an unexpected squeal.
“Vicki ha ha ha what are you ah haah ahahha ahah .....” Her question become
drowned out in a fit of giggles as I bring all ten fingers down on her two helpless feet. I
wiggle them wildly, starting near the balls of Amanda’s feet, and going all the way down
to her heels. I used the tickling tricks I had learned under Roxanne’s fingertips to great
advantage. First, I spider-walked my fingers up her sole slowly, than raked my nails up
and down as fast as I could. I had Amanda screaming with laughter in no time.
“GAWWWDDDD WHA HAAHHAH WHAAA AHAHAAHAH ARRREEE
YOOUUU AHAHAAHAA ADOOINNNNGGGGGG AAHAHHHAHHAHH
VIICCKKKIIII STAWWWPPPP PPLLLEEEAAASSSSSEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!”
Her laughter was music to my ears. Every high-pitched cry that came out of
Amanda’s beautiful throat added to my hunger and made my heart beat faster. I started
tickling faster and faster, running my fingers over the balls of her feet and underneath her
toes. With both her ankles and big toes tied, Amanda could barely even wiggle her feet
never mind pulling them away. All she could do was lie their and feel every twitch of my
long, hard fingernails. It was driving her crazy!
PLEEEAAAASSSSSEEEEEE NNAWWWOOOOOO FEEAAATTTTTEEEE
EHEHE EHEH EHE EHE EHEHE EHEH E E EHEHE !!!! AYYYTHHEHE VIC VIC
VIC VIC!! EHANNNYYHYTHHHIINNNNGGG NAAWWWWWTTTT EHEHA EHE
EHEH EH EHEH EHE EHHEEHEHE FEEEAAHAHAHAHEETTTTTT!!!!!!”
In less than ten minutes, Amanda had been reduced into a hysterical wreck. Tears
were streaming down her face her entire body was shaking as it was racked with laughter.
She was shaking her head so fast, her long hair whipped around like it was caught in a
tornado. Her feet, unable to move in any other way, kept bouncing up and down. While
part of me was in heaven, the other part felt an intense guilt, one that Amanda’s pleas only
made worse.
She was my friend for love of god! What was I doing to her! Nobody knew the
suffering she was going through (the suffering I was inflicting upon her!) better than me.
After all Roxanne had put me threw, here I was doing it to another person! And a person
I loved as a sister. How could I be so cruel!
But I couldn’t stop. The more I tickled those soft, supple soles, the more I had to
continue! It was like a drug. Infact, soon just using my fingers wasn’t enough. I had to
get her to laugh harder, faster! I started licking poor Amanda’s feet, plunging my friend
into a new kind of hell.
As I ran my hot, wet tongue up the bottom of Amanda’s foot, my friend fell into a
new kind of hell. A cry came from her lips with no intelligible words but still conveying
pure agony. Fervent hysteria flowed from her, showing no signs of stopping. Oh, that
sole tasted so good! It was better than hot fudge or thick cake frosting! I started licking
like a cat lapping up milk, many quick strokes of my tongue covering every inch! I was in
foot nirvana!
I tickled that foot worse than Roxanne ever tickled me. I sucked Amanda’s long
toes like they were cherry popsicles. I nibbled the balls of her feet like corn on the cob. I
tongue bathed both soles so many times they were dripping with saliva. I swirled my
tongue over her heel, and poked it between toeies. Again and again.
I only stopped when I could no longer hear Amanda’s sweet laughter. She was on
the verge of passing out. I didn’t stop out of pity, no the taste of those feet had driven any
bit of friendship or mercy from my brain. I stopped because I didn’t want to lose my
tickle toy just yet.
Amanda started pleading as soon as she had breath. Why was I doing this? She
had come to help me, to save me! Weren’t we friends? Weren’t we almost sisters?
So high was my bloodlust (ticklelust?) I barely heard the words. That part of me
that could still feel guilt did however, and stored them for me. Late at night, when I
wonder what kind of monster I’ve become, I can still hear those frantic pleas. Sometimes
I start to cry.
But then, I felt nothing but the hunger. I untied Amanda’s big toes and ankles, and
spread her legs wide. Amanda didn’t fight me on this. Whether she thought I might
actually free her this time or was just to exhausted to struggle, I’ll never know. Her feet
made it all the way to the corner bedposts. Around each post was a loop of ribbon. All I
had to do was slip Amanda’s foot through and pull the loop tight. Now my prey was
spread-eagle!
Then I pounced like a tiger! I started tickling up Amanda’s legs, wiggling long
nails over her perfect calves, then poking them behind her knees. I squeezed Amanda’s
thighs until her body was bouncing off the bed! I tickled her hips, working my thumbs
over that fleshy bone, and fluttering my nails over her waistline.
Amanda was quickly laughing hard and breathy again. It wasn’t the hysterical, out
of control laugh when I was licking her feet, but it was satisfying anyway. It was when I
started stroking the hair between her legs that Amanda went threw the roof. Her eyes
opened wide with a wild, crazed look in them, and with god as my witness, she squealed
just like a pig in one of those nature shows. Bingo!
“eeeeeEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHKKKKKKK!!!! NAAAHHHHHOOOOOO HE
EHE EH ehe EHE ehe HEHE EH eeheEHEHEH EH EEhhhEEEh
BEEEGGGGGGGINNN HE EHEHEH VIIIICCCCCC EHEH HE EHH EEEE
YOUUUEEEEE E E E EE CAANN’TTTTTTT PUSSSSSSSSHEE HHHEEEEEE!!!!”
I started playing with that curly hair, so different than the stuff on top of her head.
I twirled my fingers in it. I combed it with my nails like I was trying to style it. I
scratched it ever so lightly. I vibrated my fingertips up and down it. Amanda stopped
begging, and started cursing at me through her gushing laughter. Bitch and whore were
probably the nicest names she called me, but it was impossible to take the names seriously
sandwiched between hilarity.
Amanda’s worst stop was the smooth crease between the hair and her thigh.
When I ran my nails up and down that line, Amanda’s body started bucking like a bull
fresh from the rodeo, and a cackling escaped from her mouth that would have done the
wicked witch of the north justice. There was one line on each side of her pie, so I tickled
both of them, digging at each with five fingers. The sounds Amanda started to make now
wern’t even human.
As if some hidden instinct rang a bell, I knew it was time. Keeping one hand
tickling that crease and Amanda’s upper thigh, I plunged the other into the wet spot just
below. Amanda’s entire body jerked, her arms and legs breaking through the flimsy red
ribbon that had held her. It no longer mattered, as Amanda could no longer put two
logical thoughts together. Her sanity had left the building.
“OOOHHH AAHAHA HEEHE EHEH OO OHHOHO EHEHEHEHEH
OOOOOO DOONNN’TTT STOOPPPP OOOOHHHOOO AHAHEHEHE EHEH EHEH
OOOMMMMM OHH EHE EHEH EHEHEHHHEHHHEH!!!!!!”
A deep moaning started mingling in with Amanda’s laughter. Her body would
shake with laughter one minute, recently freed arms and legs flailing wildly, and be
thrusting her hips forward in the peak of ecstasy the next. I held Amanda there was long
as I could, balanced between pleasurable bliss and ticklish torment. It was an endless
moment/eternity for both of us.
Finally, with a cry that should have shattered glass, Amanda climaxed ferociously.
Then, she passed out, either asleep or dead. I couldn’t tell. I felt my own hunger vanish
at that moment as well, as if I had somehow climaxed with my friend.
“Nice job,” I heard Roxanne’s voice from behind me, “I couldn’t have punished
her for trespassing better myself.” I didn’t have to turn around to see the smug look on
the tall red-head’s face, “She looks absolutely devastated.”
And Amanda did. Sweet covered every inch of her body. Tears had smeared the
little bit of make-up she had been wearing until she looked like a clown. Amanda’s hair
was so tangled and wet she might have just come from a shower. She was breathing so
hard, she might have just been saved from drowning.
“You made me,” I screamed, sounding like a temperamental three-year old.
“No,” Roxane said, “You had free will this time. It was you were tortured her.
Not me. You tickled this girl because you wanted to, because you enjoyed it.”
And it was true. I had done it all. I had made my friend suffer, and suffer a fate
that I knew to be excruciating first hand. I had loved doing it, delighted in Amanda’s
agony. Without the hunger, all that was left was the guilt. Amanda’s cries for mercy
started ringing threw my head. A pain started in my stomach, a dull aching feeling. No,
no. Not me...How could I? HOW COULD I DO THIS!!!! Tears started falling down my
face, and for the first time since I was a little girl, I sobbed openly.
“I guess we’re not all that different after all,” Roxanne said before turning and
walking out of the room.
I wrapped my arms around Amanda and held her like a little girl who’s had a
nightmare. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” I whispered threw my tears over and over again.
But forgiveness didn’t come. Amanda was so exhausted, she didn’t even stir. She
just slept on, letting me damn myself and wage war with my crime.
notice anymore. I’ve been topless now for more than a month, and feeling the wind, a
splashes of water or even a long, hot tongue on my nipples is starting to feel normal. So is
being a slave. I no longer dream of being free.
Two weeks ago, I was Vicki Delany, 21 year old college student. Now I’m the
Great Roxanne’s pet. Yes, you’ve probably heard of the Great Roxanne. She’s been on
Letterman and Leno, billed as the world’s greatest hypnotist. And she is. Her hypnotism
is what keeps me her prisoner. It is stronger than any chain or cell door.
Looking out the open window, I see the green grass and blue skies. Freedom. It
would be so easy just to jump out. But I can’t. I know Roxanne has planted many
post-hypnotic suggestions in my brain. I don’t know what most of them are, but I know
one will trigger if I move towards an outside door or window. And I won’t like the result.
I finish the dishes, wipe the blonde hair from my eyes, and dry some suds off my
left breast. That was the last thing on my chore list for today. With all my chores done
and done well (I hope!) the master may not punish me tonight. After last night...I just
wouldn’t have the strength for anymore!
Yesterday, I had forgotten to make my bed. It hadn’t been intentional, god
knows! I had learned long ago what happens when I didn’t follow my chores, I had just
forgotten. I was relaxing on the couch, enjoying the little free time Roxanne gave me
when I heard Roxanne sneak up behind me and begin whispering in my ear. Then my
world began to dissolve, like a chalk painting left out in the rain.
I was no longer sitting on a couch, but running for my life on a desolate road,
completely naked. All around me, I can hear the howl of wolves, each one closer than the
last. My heart is in my chest, and the fear is practically choking me!
Soon, I can see the wolves, huge shaggy creatures, loping after me almost
effortlessly. It doesn’t take long before one has caught up to me. Instead of nipping at
my heels, however, he licks me with one long sweep of his tongue. It starts right above
my ankle, and slides with hot wetness up my calf and across the back of my knee. A
tickling sensation starts burning up my leg with it.
The sensation follows the wolf tongue as it creeps up my thigh, and it explodes
when the tip caresses my bare behind. I shriek with laughter, trying to run faster to escape
the tongue.
There’s no way! The creature matches my pace with ease, licking again and again.
The wolf’s tongue is almost as rough as sandpaper but slippery as an eel, and it sends
electric jolts of ticklishness from where ever it touches, especially behind my knees and the
back of my thighs. I’m giggling harder and harder now.
You can’t laugh and run hard. Soon I miss a step, and I’m falling. My body hits
the pavement with surprisingly little pain. I look up, expecting to see one wolf, but there
is a dozen, sitting around me in a ring.
For a second, the universe holds its breath, waiting. Then the wolves are on top of
me. Now not just one tongue but many are roaming on my naked body. Some keep
licking my legs, now able to get between my thighs as well. Others are tormenting my
belly, lightly caressing with a feathers touch. They make me throw back my head and
howl with hysterics, fluttering across my delicate skin. Worst of all, is the one tongue
slurping at my bellybutton, getting inside the tiny hole and curling maddeningly.
More tongues start on my ribcage. There they are stronger, licking yes, but also
poking and squeezing like fingers. They make my upper body twist and turn, trying to
escape from them. I push one or two wolf muzzles away, but more unerringly find the
ticklish mark.
Now my arms won’t move at all. They’re stuck high above my head, each one
having a wolf’s body curled on top of it. Looking from arm to arm, squinting to see
through the tears that are poring down my cheeks, I know what’s coming. It doesn’t help.
When the first rough tongue swirls through my underarm, a wave of tickling slams
into me, and my body spasms. Another tongue, around the edges of my underarm! I
scream with laughter, louder and louder. Each long, flowing lick sending me deeper and
deeper into complete hysteria! When a tongue starts sliding straight through the center of
my underarm, I lose it completely, twisting and turning like a woman possessed! I
can’t...its too much...TOO MUCHHH!!!!!!!
Finally, the tongues find my bare breasts, and all conscious though stops. They lap
at the undersides with quick, short flicks of their tongue that drive me insane! I squeal like
a stuck pig, loud and of a high enough pitch to shatter glass. No matter how hard I fight,
I can’t earn my poor breasts a moments peace. My voice starts cackling like a wicked
witch, breaking up like a badly tuned radio! ARRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!
And just like that, its over. I’m not lying on a road, and their are no wolves. I’m
back on the couch, and the Great Roxanne, her red hair flowing like fire, is leaning over
me.
“Now Vicki,” she says playfully, “are you going to make your bed tomorrow, or
do the big, bad wolves come and get you again!’ She accents the word ‘get’ with a quick
tickle to my ribs, making me shriek once more.
I’d been in a hypnotic trance. It was like a dream, but every bit as intense as
reality, and with no chance of waking up. I don’t know if everyone can be put into a
trance so completely, but I can. One of the reason Roxanne chose me to be her slave was
that I’m highly susceptible to hypnosis. My brain has no defense against it.
The other reason is that I’m very ticklish. You might think the idea of being
tickled as a punishment is silly, but that’s only because you’ve never been helplessly
tickled for hours on end! It’s torture, pure and simple. After you’ve been tickled like
that, you’ll do anything, and I do mean anything to never let it happen again.
Roxanne hadn’t touched me between my legs, though. For that I was both
profoundly grateful and annoyed. I was grateful because each time that woman strokes
me down their, each time Roxanne pleasures me into another explosive orgasm, I feel like
I lose a little more of my soul to her. It becomes harder to resist her, harder to want to
truly leave her.
But not being touched leaves me feeling all wound up, edgy. Horny. The tickling,
no matter how dreadful, always leaves me turned on. More turned on, in fact, than
anything else I’ve ever experienced. I’d never been anything other than heterosexual
before Roxanne, but even now a day later, part of me still longed for her touch.
I didn’t know whether to hope for Roxanne’s attention tonight, or not.
As I leave the kitchen, I hear a strange whining coming from one of the back
rooms. What could it be? Maybe I should just ignore it. It could be nothing, part of a
trap set up by Roxanne to get me to break a rule and get tickled again (she’s done it
before).
I can’t help myself. Always curious, I follow the noise. It’s definitely not coming
from Roxanne’s bedroom, which is good because its the only room in the house I’m not
allowed to enter. No, its coming from a guest bedroom, one Roxanne has had me tidy
once or twice but otherwise is never used.
Opening the door, I find one of my friends who’d been with me the night of my
abduction, Amanda Blake, lying naked on the bed! Her wrists have been tied to the bed
posts with red, silk ribbon, and her ankles, knees and big toes tied together with the same
material. A red bow has been stuck to the ribbon on her ankles. A gag is in her mouth.
For a second, I freeze. This must be another hypnotic trance! Amanda couldn’t
be here! And if she was, Amanda could easily tear through the flimsy ribbon tying her to
the bed. Something was very wrong!
I might just have turned around and walked out the door had I not been for
Amanda’s deep brown eyes. They were wide open, terrified and pleading with me. I
couldn’t turn down those eyes. I walked over to the bed and removed her gag.
Amanda starts blubbering, so fast I can’t understand her. All I can make out are
the words “Thank god, Vicki!” over and over again.
It takes me a few minutes to calm her down. Finally I get her story. It seems like
Amanda saw the car I got into the night I was kidnapped and told the cops. To Amanda’s
surprise, the police did nothing with the information. ( I’m sure Roxanne hypnotized
whoever Amanda told to forget about it. She can even do that over the phone!) So
Amanda, the rich daddies girl that she is, hired a private investigator to find the car. The
investigator found the car here.
Amanda had come to the house herself. She’d been hoping to find more evidence
so she could convince the police to do something. Unfortunately, Roxanne found Amanda
first. Everything after that, Amanda said, was a blur.
I nodded. “Why haven’t you ripped through these ribbons, Amanda?” I ask.
Here, Amanda blushes. She looks up at me with a sheepish glance, “I...I can’t bare
to damage such beautiful things. Look for they shine in the light, how smooth they are,” a
look of almost rapture was on Amanda’s face, only to be replaced by one of panic, “It
doesn’t make any sense, but when I think about tearing them, I grow queasy and light
headed. Could you please untie them for me?”
Ridiculous! But it does make sense. Amanda has been hypnotized. Once
Roxanne gets into your brain, a line drawn in the sand can be enough to keep you a
prisoner. Well, maybe I can help.
Reaching out, my fingers touch the nearest ribbon, the one around Amanda’s big
toes. I intended just to pull it apart, but when my fingers touched the ribbon’s silky
smoothness, a strange feeling came over me. A hunger if you will.
I drew my hand back slowly, and really looked at Amanda’s naked body for the
first time. Her full breasts, heaving with each breath she took, her firm legs so perfectly
curved. The way her dark brown hair bounced on her sensual shoulders. And most of all,
her feet. They were perfect, nice and pink, with high arches and long tapered toes. The
nail polish on the was the same shade of red as the ribbon, and the soles looked almost as
smooth and soft.
I wanted her. I wanted them. I froze, not moving a muscle. It could have been
minutes or hours. Time had stopped. I heard Amanda call my name several times, but
didn’t react. Inside of me, a war was brewing.
Amanda was my friend, a good friend who had come to rescue me. If I freed her
now, the two of us could probably escape. Freedom, blessed freedom! No more tickling.
But I wanted to touch her, a desire I had never felt towards any woman before in my life.
It was a sharp, almost painful need. The longer I waited, the more intense that wanting
became, more of a burning than anything else.
I tried to resist that feeling. I really did! I thought about all the good times we had
had together. I thought about how horrible it was to be tickled, about all of the torture
Roxanne had put me through, and how I would never ever want Amanda to experience
any of it. It would be so wrong of me to inflict it upon her!
But in the end, I was too weak. The hunger drove me, and I gave into it. Amanda
looked so delicious, lying their wrapped like a Christmas present. Her skin so soft,
so...tasty. I started reaching for her foot slowly. My divided brain would let me move no
faster. That foot called to me, and I was going to have it.
“What are you waiting for,” Amanda said frustrated, “Get me out of here!” I’m
sure until the last moment, she actually believed I was going to release her.
So many times since Roxanne entered my life, my body hasn’t been mine to
control. She’s played the puppet master and pulled my strings, leaving me powerless to
do anything but watch my own arms and legs betray me. How I wish Roxanne had done
that to me this time. I will have to live for the rest of my life knowing I was in command
of my hands that day. Every move they made was willed by me. If I’d only been stronger,
my best friend would have been spared much suffering.
The feel of Amanda’s silky soles beneath my fingertips sent a near orgasmic feeling
fluttering through my body. Amanda looked up at me in confusion. “What are you...”
Then I started. I attacked Amanda’s high arches, and my friend (my best friend!)
let out an unexpected squeal.
“Vicki ha ha ha what are you ah haah ahahha ahah .....” Her question become
drowned out in a fit of giggles as I bring all ten fingers down on her two helpless feet. I
wiggle them wildly, starting near the balls of Amanda’s feet, and going all the way down
to her heels. I used the tickling tricks I had learned under Roxanne’s fingertips to great
advantage. First, I spider-walked my fingers up her sole slowly, than raked my nails up
and down as fast as I could. I had Amanda screaming with laughter in no time.
“GAWWWDDDD WHA HAAHHAH WHAAA AHAHAAHAH ARRREEE
YOOUUU AHAHAAHAA ADOOINNNNGGGGGG AAHAHHHAHHAHH
VIICCKKKIIII STAWWWPPPP PPLLLEEEAAASSSSSEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!”
Her laughter was music to my ears. Every high-pitched cry that came out of
Amanda’s beautiful throat added to my hunger and made my heart beat faster. I started
tickling faster and faster, running my fingers over the balls of her feet and underneath her
toes. With both her ankles and big toes tied, Amanda could barely even wiggle her feet
never mind pulling them away. All she could do was lie their and feel every twitch of my
long, hard fingernails. It was driving her crazy!
PLEEEAAAASSSSSEEEEEE NNAWWWOOOOOO FEEAAATTTTTEEEE
EHEHE EHEH EHE EHE EHEHE EHEH E E EHEHE !!!! AYYYTHHEHE VIC VIC
VIC VIC!! EHANNNYYHYTHHHIINNNNGGG NAAWWWWWTTTT EHEHA EHE
EHEH EH EHEH EHE EHHEEHEHE FEEEAAHAHAHAHEETTTTTT!!!!!!”
In less than ten minutes, Amanda had been reduced into a hysterical wreck. Tears
were streaming down her face her entire body was shaking as it was racked with laughter.
She was shaking her head so fast, her long hair whipped around like it was caught in a
tornado. Her feet, unable to move in any other way, kept bouncing up and down. While
part of me was in heaven, the other part felt an intense guilt, one that Amanda’s pleas only
made worse.
She was my friend for love of god! What was I doing to her! Nobody knew the
suffering she was going through (the suffering I was inflicting upon her!) better than me.
After all Roxanne had put me threw, here I was doing it to another person! And a person
I loved as a sister. How could I be so cruel!
But I couldn’t stop. The more I tickled those soft, supple soles, the more I had to
continue! It was like a drug. Infact, soon just using my fingers wasn’t enough. I had to
get her to laugh harder, faster! I started licking poor Amanda’s feet, plunging my friend
into a new kind of hell.
As I ran my hot, wet tongue up the bottom of Amanda’s foot, my friend fell into a
new kind of hell. A cry came from her lips with no intelligible words but still conveying
pure agony. Fervent hysteria flowed from her, showing no signs of stopping. Oh, that
sole tasted so good! It was better than hot fudge or thick cake frosting! I started licking
like a cat lapping up milk, many quick strokes of my tongue covering every inch! I was in
foot nirvana!
I tickled that foot worse than Roxanne ever tickled me. I sucked Amanda’s long
toes like they were cherry popsicles. I nibbled the balls of her feet like corn on the cob. I
tongue bathed both soles so many times they were dripping with saliva. I swirled my
tongue over her heel, and poked it between toeies. Again and again.
I only stopped when I could no longer hear Amanda’s sweet laughter. She was on
the verge of passing out. I didn’t stop out of pity, no the taste of those feet had driven any
bit of friendship or mercy from my brain. I stopped because I didn’t want to lose my
tickle toy just yet.
Amanda started pleading as soon as she had breath. Why was I doing this? She
had come to help me, to save me! Weren’t we friends? Weren’t we almost sisters?
So high was my bloodlust (ticklelust?) I barely heard the words. That part of me
that could still feel guilt did however, and stored them for me. Late at night, when I
wonder what kind of monster I’ve become, I can still hear those frantic pleas. Sometimes
I start to cry.
But then, I felt nothing but the hunger. I untied Amanda’s big toes and ankles, and
spread her legs wide. Amanda didn’t fight me on this. Whether she thought I might
actually free her this time or was just to exhausted to struggle, I’ll never know. Her feet
made it all the way to the corner bedposts. Around each post was a loop of ribbon. All I
had to do was slip Amanda’s foot through and pull the loop tight. Now my prey was
spread-eagle!
Then I pounced like a tiger! I started tickling up Amanda’s legs, wiggling long
nails over her perfect calves, then poking them behind her knees. I squeezed Amanda’s
thighs until her body was bouncing off the bed! I tickled her hips, working my thumbs
over that fleshy bone, and fluttering my nails over her waistline.
Amanda was quickly laughing hard and breathy again. It wasn’t the hysterical, out
of control laugh when I was licking her feet, but it was satisfying anyway. It was when I
started stroking the hair between her legs that Amanda went threw the roof. Her eyes
opened wide with a wild, crazed look in them, and with god as my witness, she squealed
just like a pig in one of those nature shows. Bingo!
“eeeeeEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHKKKKKKK!!!! NAAAHHHHHOOOOOO HE
EHE EH ehe EHE ehe HEHE EH eeheEHEHEH EH EEhhhEEEh
BEEEGGGGGGGINNN HE EHEHEH VIIIICCCCCC EHEH HE EHH EEEE
YOUUUEEEEE E E E EE CAANN’TTTTTTT PUSSSSSSSSHEE HHHEEEEEE!!!!”
I started playing with that curly hair, so different than the stuff on top of her head.
I twirled my fingers in it. I combed it with my nails like I was trying to style it. I
scratched it ever so lightly. I vibrated my fingertips up and down it. Amanda stopped
begging, and started cursing at me through her gushing laughter. Bitch and whore were
probably the nicest names she called me, but it was impossible to take the names seriously
sandwiched between hilarity.
Amanda’s worst stop was the smooth crease between the hair and her thigh.
When I ran my nails up and down that line, Amanda’s body started bucking like a bull
fresh from the rodeo, and a cackling escaped from her mouth that would have done the
wicked witch of the north justice. There was one line on each side of her pie, so I tickled
both of them, digging at each with five fingers. The sounds Amanda started to make now
wern’t even human.
As if some hidden instinct rang a bell, I knew it was time. Keeping one hand
tickling that crease and Amanda’s upper thigh, I plunged the other into the wet spot just
below. Amanda’s entire body jerked, her arms and legs breaking through the flimsy red
ribbon that had held her. It no longer mattered, as Amanda could no longer put two
logical thoughts together. Her sanity had left the building.
“OOOHHH AAHAHA HEEHE EHEH OO OHHOHO EHEHEHEHEH
OOOOOO DOONNN’TTT STOOPPPP OOOOHHHOOO AHAHEHEHE EHEH EHEH
OOOMMMMM OHH EHE EHEH EHEHEHHHEHHHEH!!!!!!”
A deep moaning started mingling in with Amanda’s laughter. Her body would
shake with laughter one minute, recently freed arms and legs flailing wildly, and be
thrusting her hips forward in the peak of ecstasy the next. I held Amanda there was long
as I could, balanced between pleasurable bliss and ticklish torment. It was an endless
moment/eternity for both of us.
Finally, with a cry that should have shattered glass, Amanda climaxed ferociously.
Then, she passed out, either asleep or dead. I couldn’t tell. I felt my own hunger vanish
at that moment as well, as if I had somehow climaxed with my friend.
“Nice job,” I heard Roxanne’s voice from behind me, “I couldn’t have punished
her for trespassing better myself.” I didn’t have to turn around to see the smug look on
the tall red-head’s face, “She looks absolutely devastated.”
And Amanda did. Sweet covered every inch of her body. Tears had smeared the
little bit of make-up she had been wearing until she looked like a clown. Amanda’s hair
was so tangled and wet she might have just come from a shower. She was breathing so
hard, she might have just been saved from drowning.
“You made me,” I screamed, sounding like a temperamental three-year old.
“No,” Roxane said, “You had free will this time. It was you were tortured her.
Not me. You tickled this girl because you wanted to, because you enjoyed it.”
And it was true. I had done it all. I had made my friend suffer, and suffer a fate
that I knew to be excruciating first hand. I had loved doing it, delighted in Amanda’s
agony. Without the hunger, all that was left was the guilt. Amanda’s cries for mercy
started ringing threw my head. A pain started in my stomach, a dull aching feeling. No,
no. Not me...How could I? HOW COULD I DO THIS!!!! Tears started falling down my
face, and for the first time since I was a little girl, I sobbed openly.
“I guess we’re not all that different after all,” Roxanne said before turning and
walking out of the room.
I wrapped my arms around Amanda and held her like a little girl who’s had a
nightmare. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” I whispered threw my tears over and over again.
But forgiveness didn’t come. Amanda was so exhausted, she didn’t even stir. She
just slept on, letting me damn myself and wage war with my crime.
