artsyrevolution
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- Apr 4, 2004
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“I won’t give up my source!” Erica said through clenched teeth, glaring at the masked man in front of her as she lay hogtied on her belly in the back of her captor’s van. “Ever. You’re shit out of luck, asshole.”
Her co-anchor Rebecca Jarvis, hogtied beside her, whimpered into her cleave gag as another masked man sucked on her bare toes and hungrily lapped at her soft slender soles. Her hair hung in her sweat-covered face from her recent tickling torment.
“I imagined you might continue to resist, Ms. Hill. But as you’ve seen with little Rebecca, we have ways of breaking defiant newschicks like yourself. Last chance.”
Erica knew her feet were horribly ticklish. And she saw what had happened to Rebecca. “Fuck off.” She spat.
“Get her.” He told his henchman.
With that command the ski masked captor behind Erica Hill’s bound helpless bare feet dug in with all ten wiggling fingertips. Erica erupted with laughter as his fingertips assaulted her ticklish soles.
“NONONOHAHAHAHAEHEHEEHEEEAHAHAHAHOHOHOAhAHAHAHA!”
Her captor scrabbled his fingertips all over her soft, toned, tanned bare feet: arches, soles, in between her toes while she bucked and flailed in her hogtie.
“STOPYOUASSHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHEEHEEHEEHEEEEHAHAHA!”
He spidered his fingers across her bound soles, exploring every last inch of her sexy bare feet. Erica Hill was out of her mind with laughter, barely able to form a thought as she howled and flailed, giggled and begged for mercy. She did, however, notice that the tickling had pumped even more blood into her captor’s cock which was pressed, rock hard, against her bare hogtied legs.
“HAHAANONOYOUFUCKERSNOHEHASTAHAHAHAAPHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”
“Tell us the bitch’s name, Ms. Hill. And this can stop.”
Erica desperately wanted mercy. She wasn’t sure how much more of this torture she could stand. Her feet were SO ticklish!
“I can’t. I won’t.” She stammered. “AHHHHAHAHAHAHAEEHEEEEHEEEHAHAHAHA!”
The tickler behind her doubled his efforts, tickling her soles more and more furiously and even adding a stiff turkey feather to her right sole, dragging and probing her arches and toes with it.
Erica went apeshit. She bucked like a bronco on the floor of the van. Clenching and unclenching her toes, wriggling her feet, screaming with wordless, insane laughter, begging for the torture to stop.
The tickler stroked the turkey feather over her soles in long, slow movements and then followed with quick scrabbling tickles from his fingers. He ran the feather between each of her toes. Erica's mad laughter filled the van as she tried in vain to escape.
"No, I won't tell I Heeheahahahanonono!"
Finally, her captor pulled back Erica's toes and produced a hairbrush. He scrubbed her taut bare soles with maniacal abandon. Helplessly bound, her soles vulnerably exposed to the scrubbing of the brush, Erica couldn't take any more! Her strength and resistance evaporated under the furious strokes of the hairbrush and intermittant five-fingertips assaults on her taut sole flesh.
“HAHAHAHAFINEFIHIHIHIHAHAHAHEEHEHEAI’LLTELLI’LLTELLHAHAHAHA”
“Stop.” The boss commanded. His minion stopped. Erica panted, delirious from the tickling. Her horny tickler fondled her bare feet, however, with his sweaty hands, still completely erect against her calves.
“The name, Ms. Hill.”
Erica could not stand any more torment. But it would shatter her sense of journalistic ethics to reveal a source...
“I grow impatient, Erica. Give us the name or we will tickle poor Ms. Jarvis alongside your devilishly ticklish feet.”
Erica looked over at Rebecca. Rebecca shook her head, scared of further torture, and begged through her gag. “Just tell them.” Which of course came out as “Mmph mmgh mmm”
“Andrea Eliot. That’s her name. You assholes.” Erica spat, disgustedly.
“Thank you, Erica.” Said the boss man, rising. He grabbed Rebecca’s panties and the bandana and hastily re-gagged Erica with them. “But I can’t be sure you aren’t lying to me. And you were SUCH a bitch about the whole ordeal. So…” He looked back to his men. “Keep them gagged but tickle the shit out of them until I call and tell you that we’ve dealt with this little whore, Ms. Eliot.” He shut the door to the van.
Erica swore at the closing door. “MMMMPH!” The girls’ captors only smiled.
Erica Hill and Rebecca Jarvis screamed into their gags and struggled helplessly in their bonds for four hours as their horny foot-loving captors tickled their bound bare feet with fingertips, electric toothbrushes, hairbrushes, feathers and their own hungry tongues. The newschicks gagged laughter was music to these men’s ears as they tickled and tasted the sexy slender feet of Ms. Rebecca Jarvis and the strong muscular feet of Ms. Erica Hill. When the call finally came in from their boss that Andrea Eliot had, in fact, been the name the ticklers decided they would enjoy one last bit of foot fun with the bondaged anchorwomen.
Unzipping their flies and removing their throbbing, rock hard cocks, the ski masked men plunged their rods between the soft soles of their captives, fucking Erica and Rebecca’s bare feet over and over. The newsgirls were disgusted, MMMPHING obscenities that only served to turn their captors on even more and they drove their cocks between the CBS anchorwomen’s hot feet with horny abandon until at last they shot hot loads all over their soles.
The captors put Erica and Rebecca’s expensive pumps back on their cum covered feet, squishing the semen against their soles. They then untied all but the girls’ wrists, leaving them gagged and pushed them out of the van.
As the captors’ van sped off into the night, Erica Hill and Rebecca Jarvis stood in a parking garage, wrists bound, mouths gagged, bare feet in cum filled stilettos looking at one another and remembering vividly their vicious tickle torture…Shuddering from the torment and the humiliation.
Elsewhere in the city, a call-girl, Andrea Eliot and her roommate Shannon were being hogtied by ski-masked men…
Her co-anchor Rebecca Jarvis, hogtied beside her, whimpered into her cleave gag as another masked man sucked on her bare toes and hungrily lapped at her soft slender soles. Her hair hung in her sweat-covered face from her recent tickling torment.
“I imagined you might continue to resist, Ms. Hill. But as you’ve seen with little Rebecca, we have ways of breaking defiant newschicks like yourself. Last chance.”
Erica knew her feet were horribly ticklish. And she saw what had happened to Rebecca. “Fuck off.” She spat.
“Get her.” He told his henchman.
With that command the ski masked captor behind Erica Hill’s bound helpless bare feet dug in with all ten wiggling fingertips. Erica erupted with laughter as his fingertips assaulted her ticklish soles.
“NONONOHAHAHAHAEHEHEEHEEEAHAHAHAHOHOHOAhAHAHAHA!”
Her captor scrabbled his fingertips all over her soft, toned, tanned bare feet: arches, soles, in between her toes while she bucked and flailed in her hogtie.
“STOPYOUASSHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHEEHEEHEEHEEEEHAHAHA!”
He spidered his fingers across her bound soles, exploring every last inch of her sexy bare feet. Erica Hill was out of her mind with laughter, barely able to form a thought as she howled and flailed, giggled and begged for mercy. She did, however, notice that the tickling had pumped even more blood into her captor’s cock which was pressed, rock hard, against her bare hogtied legs.
“HAHAANONOYOUFUCKERSNOHEHASTAHAHAHAAPHAHAHAHAHAAHA!”
“Tell us the bitch’s name, Ms. Hill. And this can stop.”
Erica desperately wanted mercy. She wasn’t sure how much more of this torture she could stand. Her feet were SO ticklish!
“I can’t. I won’t.” She stammered. “AHHHHAHAHAHAHAEEHEEEEHEEEHAHAHAHA!”
The tickler behind her doubled his efforts, tickling her soles more and more furiously and even adding a stiff turkey feather to her right sole, dragging and probing her arches and toes with it.
Erica went apeshit. She bucked like a bronco on the floor of the van. Clenching and unclenching her toes, wriggling her feet, screaming with wordless, insane laughter, begging for the torture to stop.
The tickler stroked the turkey feather over her soles in long, slow movements and then followed with quick scrabbling tickles from his fingers. He ran the feather between each of her toes. Erica's mad laughter filled the van as she tried in vain to escape.
"No, I won't tell I Heeheahahahanonono!"
Finally, her captor pulled back Erica's toes and produced a hairbrush. He scrubbed her taut bare soles with maniacal abandon. Helplessly bound, her soles vulnerably exposed to the scrubbing of the brush, Erica couldn't take any more! Her strength and resistance evaporated under the furious strokes of the hairbrush and intermittant five-fingertips assaults on her taut sole flesh.
“HAHAHAHAFINEFIHIHIHIHAHAHAHEEHEHEAI’LLTELLI’LLTELLHAHAHAHA”
“Stop.” The boss commanded. His minion stopped. Erica panted, delirious from the tickling. Her horny tickler fondled her bare feet, however, with his sweaty hands, still completely erect against her calves.
“The name, Ms. Hill.”
Erica could not stand any more torment. But it would shatter her sense of journalistic ethics to reveal a source...
“I grow impatient, Erica. Give us the name or we will tickle poor Ms. Jarvis alongside your devilishly ticklish feet.”
Erica looked over at Rebecca. Rebecca shook her head, scared of further torture, and begged through her gag. “Just tell them.” Which of course came out as “Mmph mmgh mmm”
“Andrea Eliot. That’s her name. You assholes.” Erica spat, disgustedly.
“Thank you, Erica.” Said the boss man, rising. He grabbed Rebecca’s panties and the bandana and hastily re-gagged Erica with them. “But I can’t be sure you aren’t lying to me. And you were SUCH a bitch about the whole ordeal. So…” He looked back to his men. “Keep them gagged but tickle the shit out of them until I call and tell you that we’ve dealt with this little whore, Ms. Eliot.” He shut the door to the van.
Erica swore at the closing door. “MMMMPH!” The girls’ captors only smiled.
Erica Hill and Rebecca Jarvis screamed into their gags and struggled helplessly in their bonds for four hours as their horny foot-loving captors tickled their bound bare feet with fingertips, electric toothbrushes, hairbrushes, feathers and their own hungry tongues. The newschicks gagged laughter was music to these men’s ears as they tickled and tasted the sexy slender feet of Ms. Rebecca Jarvis and the strong muscular feet of Ms. Erica Hill. When the call finally came in from their boss that Andrea Eliot had, in fact, been the name the ticklers decided they would enjoy one last bit of foot fun with the bondaged anchorwomen.
Unzipping their flies and removing their throbbing, rock hard cocks, the ski masked men plunged their rods between the soft soles of their captives, fucking Erica and Rebecca’s bare feet over and over. The newsgirls were disgusted, MMMPHING obscenities that only served to turn their captors on even more and they drove their cocks between the CBS anchorwomen’s hot feet with horny abandon until at last they shot hot loads all over their soles.
The captors put Erica and Rebecca’s expensive pumps back on their cum covered feet, squishing the semen against their soles. They then untied all but the girls’ wrists, leaving them gagged and pushed them out of the van.
As the captors’ van sped off into the night, Erica Hill and Rebecca Jarvis stood in a parking garage, wrists bound, mouths gagged, bare feet in cum filled stilettos looking at one another and remembering vividly their vicious tickle torture…Shuddering from the torment and the humiliation.
Elsewhere in the city, a call-girl, Andrea Eliot and her roommate Shannon were being hogtied by ski-masked men…
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