T
Tidas
Guest
I wrote this because I loved Max Speer's Kittletown stories so much. Any mention of that IP or its characters is out of respect to Max and his work. Max if you don't like it, feel free to take it down. Oh, and I apologize for the formatting, I swear I know how to insert paragraphs. The forum is not being nice in that regard. Welp...here goes!
He sat with his eyes closed, drinking in the sound of the surf, feeling a gentle breeze tickle his skin. He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, letting out a contended sigh.
Simon Crenshaw was on vacation at his beach house on the Florida panhandle. The soft white sand, and emerald-green waters had done a lot to rejuvenate him and his wife Jen while the two were on a short spring vacation.
The panhandle is mostly developed, with enormous condos and “snowbirds” covering up the roads and beaches, but Simon’s little slice of heaven was nestled in a very secluded part, with naught but a few other houses in the area.
It hadn’t gotten too hot yet, with temps still in the mid 70s and the sun shining happily. Still, as it was warmer than they were used to, they had been drinking a lot of water ever since they got to the vacation spot, and using a lot of ice from the ice-maker. Simon took a sip of his pina colada and shivered lightly as the icy cold concoction made its way to his stomach.
Simon was happy, he really needed this time off, and he knew his wife was enjoying the much-deserved rest as well. Simon and his wife were both school teachers in their mid 30s, and spring break was a time that he and Jen always looked forward to, as they almost always spent it at the beach house he inherited from his folks way down the line.
Simon finished both cigarette and drink and, smiling, made his way back up the old wooden steps to the house. Simon pulled back the sliding glass door to the beach house, squeezed his stocky 5’10” frame through, and looked around for his wife.
The house was built in the late 60s, with a strongly nautical theme. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling and the carpeted areas were decked out with light brown shag carpeting. Heavy nautical ropes and paintings of ships and seabirds on the wall completed the idyllically old-fashioned décor in the small abode.
Simon called to his wife, but no answer came. “This is a bit odd,” he thought to himself, and he started for the bedroom to see if she had maybe laid down for a nap. He called her name out again, a little more softly this time, as he started down the short hallway to the master bedroom, “Jen?”This time he was rewarded with a tiny giggle and a response of: “In here sweety!”
"What’s so funny?” came Simon’s reply as he walked a little closer to the bedroom they shared. He never made it. A strong hand clamped over Simon’s mouth and his whole world went fuzzy, his knees got wobbly, and then everything went completely black.
Simon awoke to find himself tied to a chair adjacent to his bed, with his wrists tied to the armrests, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. As he shook off the grogginess, Simon realized that not only was he bound and gagged, but his beautiful wife was strapped to the bed with her arms in a “Y” position and her ankles tethered tightly to the footboard! His wife was a beautiful redhead, with soft alabaster skin and tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks, that gave her an almost girlish look. She was definitely a beauty and Simon drank in her form, from the soft rise and fall of her bosom to the flat, but not hard, curves of her tummy and hips.
Jen was stretched out in her teeny pink bikini that kept her modest, but just barely. “Mrrrffgrgrmf!” was Simon’s helpless cry to his Jen, and her reply was no less intelligible as she looked at him and tried to indicate with a nod of her head that Simon should look to the end of the bed. He did just that, and he was shocked to see three people looking back at him. Simon was pretty sure that there weren’t three people within a few miles of the place, but he was apparently mistaken.
Flanked by two big bruisers was a gorgeous woman, with a wicked grin on her face. She wore a sleeveless white lab coat, complete with pocket protectors and several mismatched pens in the chest pockets. A pair of goggles was perched on her forehead, and she was wearing blue jeans and a pair of black strappy stiletto heels. This odd woman was raven-haired with strikingly green eyes that almost matched the emerald waters of the gulf just perfectly.
“Good afternoon,” she said, “My name is Rachel and these two gentlemen are Claude and Max. I am from a small lab a short distance from here that specializes in cosmetics. You may have seen it on your travels through the area; it probably just looked like an abandoned warehouse to you. Rest assured it isn’t abandoned, we work tirelessly to bring you the latest in beauty products!”
“What a strange woman,” thought Simon as he listened to the woman speak, “she sounds like a commercial or something.”
As she finished her introductions, Simon spied a pair of wooden crates with “Property of the Michael’s Corp.” stamped on the side. Following his eyes, Rachel nodded curtly.
“Yes, those contain the product I intend to test on your lovely wife; it’s the latest and greatest invention of the Michael’s Corporation! Home Office is based a ways away from here, but that isn’t really important just now.”
Simon and his wife both mumbled out replies in unison at the woman, and she looked at them curiously.
“Oh yes, you are still gagged aren’t you? I do apologize for that, force of habit you see. Better remove these, or I won’t be able to get any feedback from you!”
Rachel indicated to the two henchmen next to her to remove the cloth gags from the distraught couple.
“What are you doing in our home?!” shot Simon.
“Yes and why do you have us bound like this?!” spouted his wife.
Rachel looked at the two like the answer was obvious, and cocked her head.
“Weren’t you listening?” she asked the helpless woman, “I’m here to test cosmetics on you. In this case, our latest in depilatory creams. The bondage is for our safety as well as yours, thus I’m afraid it is quite necessary.”
Simon and Jen both racked their substantial vocabulary as to what depilatory could mean, and they both came up with the answer at the same time.
“Hair removal?” they both sputtered in unison.
“Of course!” chuckled Rachel, the obviously insane scientist, “For the underarms specifically.”
“The underarms?!” sputtered Simon incredulously, “Why would you ever want to test that on her?”
“Well, what more perfect test subject than your beautiful wife?” Rachel retorted, “A young, attractive woman; and in obvious need of our product too.” She finished with a smirk.
Both Simon and Jen looked at Jen’s armpits. Jen’s underarms were almost perfectly smooth, with light creases, shallow hollows, and only a hint of pepper on the slightly-raised mounds in the center. Both blushed a tad, although Simon wasn’t really sure why he should be embarrassed.
“I-I don’t really get this.” Jen started to reason, “Why the hell are you tying people up and testing your products on them?”
“Why not?” replied Rachel casually, as if the answer was plain as could be. “Where I come from sweety-pie, having stubble like that could land you in a whole heap of trouble.”
Jen tried her best to figure out where the woman could possibly be referring to. She had a slightly foreign sounding accent, though she couldn't pin it down, and Jen didn’t know of any underarm-hair regulations anywhere, especially overseas.
“This is ridiculous!” shouted Simon “You need to let us go and get out of here, right now!”
“Silly, silly, couple” chuckled Rachel condescendingly, “Relax! Soon we’ll be having a barrel of laughs together!”
The couple turned to look at each other questioningly at that statement, but couldn’t reason it out to save their lives.
“Now,” Rachel said, approaching the vulnerable redhead with what looked like a somewhat normal bottle of lotion, except on the label was printed “Gregory’s Miracle Underarm Cream!” exclamation point and all. “I should warn you, there are some side effects. Aside from the intended result, which is a complete loss of underarm hair, most people experience permanent…changes as well.”
“CH-CHANGES?!” The two shouted together, “What sorts of changes? Are you going to turn her into a Newt or something?” Simon questioned.
“A Newt? Heavens no, where would you even get such a silly idea? Really people are strange around here. No, the most-common, and by most common I mean in every single case, side effect is permanent loss of underarm hair, and increased sensitivity to tickling. Like, drastically increased.”
Rachel’s little “guinea pig” looked back at her in an odd mix between confusion and horror, and as Simon’s sexy wife contemplated her current dilemma, she was completely dumbfounded.
“So, any objections?” asked Rachel in a most abrupt way, “No? Great! Let’s begin!”
The wife shuddered as Rachel applied the cream to each of Jen’s armpits. The lotion was cold, and she was really dreading experiencing the side effects, which she was beginning to figure out was what the bondage was for. Rachel informed the two that the cream takes about fifteen minutes to work, but assured them that the time would not go to waste. Instead, she told them, they would be having “a ton of fun.” As she finished her statement, she brandished a long, stiff feather and looked Jen right in the eyes. Jen met her stare with eyes bulging and tracked Rachel’s gaze down to her bare feet. Jen’s toes wriggled in anticipation of what was coming next and she shouted:
“Please no! Don’t tickle my feet, please you mustn’t! I can’t take tickling at all!”
Rachel chuckled as she knelt down in front of Jen’s helpless peds.
“Of course you can dear, and I assure you, you will take all the tickling I have to offer!”
At this, Jen struggled as best she could against her bonds, but she was stuck tight. She realized the insane scientist was absolutely right, and she didn’t have time to think much else as the feather began to stroke ever-so-lightly up and down her bare foot.
Jen’s feet were a scrumptious size eight, and she took care to keep them looking very nice. She had soft, rounded, pink heels and toes and pale, soft soles that were loaded with tiny little wrinkles. Her toes were painted bright pink to match her bikini. She got regular pedicures and knew how ticklish her feet were, but this was so much worse!
She giggled and squealed as the feather made its torturous march up and down her left sole, and then her right, and then back again. She swore she had become more ticklish since they had come to the beach house, and laughed and begged in earnest as Rachel began to slip the feather in between each of her helplessly wriggling toes.
Simon watched helplessly as his wife laughed and begged for mercy, her back arching ever so slightly off the bed, showing off her slightly bouncing breasts. Her soft, red hair was matted to her forehead and the sight of his wife being tickled mercilessly by a gorgeous, but obviously crazy, woman was beginning to turn him on! Simon had always tickled his wife, as she was very ticklish, and never really thought twice about it, but this was definitely getting him excited. He looked down at his wife’s feet, and felt another jolt of sexual energy shoot through him as Rachel was now using the quill end of the feather to ‘write’ “I’m a ticklish little baby” on the balls of his pretty wife’s feet. Simon didn’t quite get it, but he knew he was horny, and oddly very thirsty.
Jen was practically screaming with laughter now and Rachel was giggling along with her, and even Rachel’s giggling seemed to turn Simon on. “What is happening to me?” He thought, “Am I really getting off on this? On, you know…tickling?”
Jen was feeling a bit different as well. She began to feel little tingling in a very private place every time the feather stroked her unbearably ticklish feet. “What the hell?” she thought to herself, “This is not something I’ve ever gotten off on in the past, why is this mad woman’s tickling getting me going?”
Just then Jen’s laughter died down, and was replaced with heaving gasps for air as Rachel checked her quite-oversized watch.
“Oh, drat!” she exclaimed, “It seems I’ve gotten carried away and left the cream on a bit too long. Don’t worry it’s very mild stuff, but it will just make the side effects a tad more…pronounced.”
With that announcement, Rachel produced a soft chamois cloth, and rubbed the cream off in slow circular motions, first the left underarm, then the right. The results were incredible. Jen’s already very attractive underarms became breathtakingly perfect. There was no trace of stubble, in fact, it looked like there had never been hair there at all! Jen craned her neck around to catch a glimpse, and even she was astounded at the results. Truly this company had hair removal figured out! There was no hint of redness or irritation either, in fact it was quite the opposite. Her armpits felt like they had just been treated to a very expensive lotion. Looking back up at her tormenter however, Jen felt a pang of helpless fear as she knew exactly what was coming next.
“Please!” Jen squealed in helpless anticipation “Please please please! Not there! Anywhere but the armpits!”
Rachel chuckled softly to herself as she eyes her handiwork up close, twin feathers still in hand.
“I’m afraid, dear Jen, that there really isn’t much you could do to stop me, and besides, it’s in the name of science…and beauty! Beauty-science!”
Jen’s eyebrow arched as she considered the odd response from this eccentric woman, but didn’t have time to do much else as Rachel lowered a feather to sweep over Jen’s left armpit. The effects were just as unbelievable as the effects of the cream were at removing her stubble. Jen bucked and tried desperately to pull down her arm to protect her helpless armpit, but the straps held her arms very tightly in place. There was nothing she could do to avoid the torment, and that reality was being made very clear to her by the mad scientist’s maddening feather-strokes.
“EEEEYYYAHAHAHAHAHAH!” The laughter poured over Jen’s glossy-pink lips like water bursting forth from a dam, filling the room with echoing feminine laughter.
“It seems” pondered Rachel, “that the side-effects are most pronounced in this vict….er subject. Make a note of that Claude.”
He moved to do just that, and realized that he had neither a pen, nor paper. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders and focused his attention back to the gorgeous redhead writhing on the bed.
Rachel brought the other feather into play now, stroking it over the right armpit in tandem with the feather stroking the left. Jen’s laughter increased now to a very desperate level, causing Simon to shift uncomfortably in his seat, to try and avoid anyone noticing his obvious arousal.
“PLEASE! HAHAHHA! THIS IS HAHAH TORTURE! HAHA YOU’VE GOTTA STAHAHAHAHAP!”
Jen’s begging became frantic, and Rachel smirked in obvious enjoyment of her ministrations.
“Stop?” she quipped, “my dear, we have many more tests to perform yet!”
“Noooo! Please!” Jen begged, in between gulps of much-needed air, “I can't take it! It's driving me crazy!”
“Crazy? I know personally, for a fact, that tickling has never made anyone crazy dear.” Rachel stated in a very matter-of-fact way while nodding her head sharply.
Jen and Simon's eyes both met, and rolled, at that statement.
Rachel set the feathers down on the nightstand next to the bed, cracked her knuckles, and looked down at Jen, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“Well now, where were we? Ah, yes, now I remember!”
With that statement, Rachel begin to gently strum her fingers over Jen's helpless armpits, relishing the silky-softness. She meticulously “inspected” her handiwork, focusing more on the tickling than the results of the product. She knew the cream worked. After all, it was in Trina's Salon back home, and she had used it herself!
At Rachel's handiwork Jen verily exploded. Laughing and struggling, she squirmed and squealed more than she ever had in her life. Her head tossed back, fiery red hair splayed behind her head like a crown, her laughter poured forth in gales, and her body quivered from the torment.
Simon was taken aback. He had always thought Jennifer was the most beautiful woman on Earth, but he had never seen her look more comely than she did now. He was confused, but he didn't care anymore. He simply relished the raw sexual energy he felt toward his wife. He was beginning to look at tickling in a new light now, and could not wait to touch his wife again. He wanted to tickle her, badly, just like Rachel was doing to her now. He only wished he wasn't tied up.
At that thought, Simon managed to tear his eyes from his hysterical, and gorgeous, wife to look down at his wrists. The bonds were gone! He looked up at the goons on his left and right, and they just grinned and tossed the lengths of rope at him. He never even noticed that they had untied him, so entranced was he with the tickling. He walked over to his wife, staring at her perfect feet; Her wriggling toes, the smooth heels, the wrinkles on her flawless soles. It was like waking from a dream. He looked at life in a whole new way now. “Tickling huh, who'd have thought?” He thought to himself. With that thought, he took the plunge. He began to wriggle his fingers on his wife's feet. Clumsily, like someone who was used to only giving occasional, playful pokes. He picked up speed though, and his finesse increased with every stroke of his fingers.
“HAHAHAHAH! Not you too! Simon! Why are you helping?!?!”
Jenn looked shocked, interspersed with her tormented laughing, but she wasn't upset. She loved her husband's touch, and was even beginning to warm to all the tickling, despite how torturous it was. Still, she continued to struggle, despite her new-found enjoyment of the sensations.
Rachel craned her neck to watch Simon's face as he assisted in his wife's torment. She smiled with satisfaction as she watched him, and after a time spoke up.
“You know Simon, if you are enjoying yourself, I should talk to you and your wife about a town in South Florida...”
To Be Continued?
He sat with his eyes closed, drinking in the sound of the surf, feeling a gentle breeze tickle his skin. He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, letting out a contended sigh.
Simon Crenshaw was on vacation at his beach house on the Florida panhandle. The soft white sand, and emerald-green waters had done a lot to rejuvenate him and his wife Jen while the two were on a short spring vacation.
The panhandle is mostly developed, with enormous condos and “snowbirds” covering up the roads and beaches, but Simon’s little slice of heaven was nestled in a very secluded part, with naught but a few other houses in the area.
It hadn’t gotten too hot yet, with temps still in the mid 70s and the sun shining happily. Still, as it was warmer than they were used to, they had been drinking a lot of water ever since they got to the vacation spot, and using a lot of ice from the ice-maker. Simon took a sip of his pina colada and shivered lightly as the icy cold concoction made its way to his stomach.
Simon was happy, he really needed this time off, and he knew his wife was enjoying the much-deserved rest as well. Simon and his wife were both school teachers in their mid 30s, and spring break was a time that he and Jen always looked forward to, as they almost always spent it at the beach house he inherited from his folks way down the line.
Simon finished both cigarette and drink and, smiling, made his way back up the old wooden steps to the house. Simon pulled back the sliding glass door to the beach house, squeezed his stocky 5’10” frame through, and looked around for his wife.
The house was built in the late 60s, with a strongly nautical theme. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling and the carpeted areas were decked out with light brown shag carpeting. Heavy nautical ropes and paintings of ships and seabirds on the wall completed the idyllically old-fashioned décor in the small abode.
Simon called to his wife, but no answer came. “This is a bit odd,” he thought to himself, and he started for the bedroom to see if she had maybe laid down for a nap. He called her name out again, a little more softly this time, as he started down the short hallway to the master bedroom, “Jen?”This time he was rewarded with a tiny giggle and a response of: “In here sweety!”
"What’s so funny?” came Simon’s reply as he walked a little closer to the bedroom they shared. He never made it. A strong hand clamped over Simon’s mouth and his whole world went fuzzy, his knees got wobbly, and then everything went completely black.
Simon awoke to find himself tied to a chair adjacent to his bed, with his wrists tied to the armrests, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. As he shook off the grogginess, Simon realized that not only was he bound and gagged, but his beautiful wife was strapped to the bed with her arms in a “Y” position and her ankles tethered tightly to the footboard! His wife was a beautiful redhead, with soft alabaster skin and tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks, that gave her an almost girlish look. She was definitely a beauty and Simon drank in her form, from the soft rise and fall of her bosom to the flat, but not hard, curves of her tummy and hips.
Jen was stretched out in her teeny pink bikini that kept her modest, but just barely. “Mrrrffgrgrmf!” was Simon’s helpless cry to his Jen, and her reply was no less intelligible as she looked at him and tried to indicate with a nod of her head that Simon should look to the end of the bed. He did just that, and he was shocked to see three people looking back at him. Simon was pretty sure that there weren’t three people within a few miles of the place, but he was apparently mistaken.
Flanked by two big bruisers was a gorgeous woman, with a wicked grin on her face. She wore a sleeveless white lab coat, complete with pocket protectors and several mismatched pens in the chest pockets. A pair of goggles was perched on her forehead, and she was wearing blue jeans and a pair of black strappy stiletto heels. This odd woman was raven-haired with strikingly green eyes that almost matched the emerald waters of the gulf just perfectly.
“Good afternoon,” she said, “My name is Rachel and these two gentlemen are Claude and Max. I am from a small lab a short distance from here that specializes in cosmetics. You may have seen it on your travels through the area; it probably just looked like an abandoned warehouse to you. Rest assured it isn’t abandoned, we work tirelessly to bring you the latest in beauty products!”
“What a strange woman,” thought Simon as he listened to the woman speak, “she sounds like a commercial or something.”
As she finished her introductions, Simon spied a pair of wooden crates with “Property of the Michael’s Corp.” stamped on the side. Following his eyes, Rachel nodded curtly.
“Yes, those contain the product I intend to test on your lovely wife; it’s the latest and greatest invention of the Michael’s Corporation! Home Office is based a ways away from here, but that isn’t really important just now.”
Simon and his wife both mumbled out replies in unison at the woman, and she looked at them curiously.
“Oh yes, you are still gagged aren’t you? I do apologize for that, force of habit you see. Better remove these, or I won’t be able to get any feedback from you!”
Rachel indicated to the two henchmen next to her to remove the cloth gags from the distraught couple.
“What are you doing in our home?!” shot Simon.
“Yes and why do you have us bound like this?!” spouted his wife.
Rachel looked at the two like the answer was obvious, and cocked her head.
“Weren’t you listening?” she asked the helpless woman, “I’m here to test cosmetics on you. In this case, our latest in depilatory creams. The bondage is for our safety as well as yours, thus I’m afraid it is quite necessary.”
Simon and Jen both racked their substantial vocabulary as to what depilatory could mean, and they both came up with the answer at the same time.
“Hair removal?” they both sputtered in unison.
“Of course!” chuckled Rachel, the obviously insane scientist, “For the underarms specifically.”
“The underarms?!” sputtered Simon incredulously, “Why would you ever want to test that on her?”
“Well, what more perfect test subject than your beautiful wife?” Rachel retorted, “A young, attractive woman; and in obvious need of our product too.” She finished with a smirk.
Both Simon and Jen looked at Jen’s armpits. Jen’s underarms were almost perfectly smooth, with light creases, shallow hollows, and only a hint of pepper on the slightly-raised mounds in the center. Both blushed a tad, although Simon wasn’t really sure why he should be embarrassed.
“I-I don’t really get this.” Jen started to reason, “Why the hell are you tying people up and testing your products on them?”
“Why not?” replied Rachel casually, as if the answer was plain as could be. “Where I come from sweety-pie, having stubble like that could land you in a whole heap of trouble.”
Jen tried her best to figure out where the woman could possibly be referring to. She had a slightly foreign sounding accent, though she couldn't pin it down, and Jen didn’t know of any underarm-hair regulations anywhere, especially overseas.
“This is ridiculous!” shouted Simon “You need to let us go and get out of here, right now!”
“Silly, silly, couple” chuckled Rachel condescendingly, “Relax! Soon we’ll be having a barrel of laughs together!”
The couple turned to look at each other questioningly at that statement, but couldn’t reason it out to save their lives.
“Now,” Rachel said, approaching the vulnerable redhead with what looked like a somewhat normal bottle of lotion, except on the label was printed “Gregory’s Miracle Underarm Cream!” exclamation point and all. “I should warn you, there are some side effects. Aside from the intended result, which is a complete loss of underarm hair, most people experience permanent…changes as well.”
“CH-CHANGES?!” The two shouted together, “What sorts of changes? Are you going to turn her into a Newt or something?” Simon questioned.
“A Newt? Heavens no, where would you even get such a silly idea? Really people are strange around here. No, the most-common, and by most common I mean in every single case, side effect is permanent loss of underarm hair, and increased sensitivity to tickling. Like, drastically increased.”
Rachel’s little “guinea pig” looked back at her in an odd mix between confusion and horror, and as Simon’s sexy wife contemplated her current dilemma, she was completely dumbfounded.
“So, any objections?” asked Rachel in a most abrupt way, “No? Great! Let’s begin!”
The wife shuddered as Rachel applied the cream to each of Jen’s armpits. The lotion was cold, and she was really dreading experiencing the side effects, which she was beginning to figure out was what the bondage was for. Rachel informed the two that the cream takes about fifteen minutes to work, but assured them that the time would not go to waste. Instead, she told them, they would be having “a ton of fun.” As she finished her statement, she brandished a long, stiff feather and looked Jen right in the eyes. Jen met her stare with eyes bulging and tracked Rachel’s gaze down to her bare feet. Jen’s toes wriggled in anticipation of what was coming next and she shouted:
“Please no! Don’t tickle my feet, please you mustn’t! I can’t take tickling at all!”
Rachel chuckled as she knelt down in front of Jen’s helpless peds.
“Of course you can dear, and I assure you, you will take all the tickling I have to offer!”
At this, Jen struggled as best she could against her bonds, but she was stuck tight. She realized the insane scientist was absolutely right, and she didn’t have time to think much else as the feather began to stroke ever-so-lightly up and down her bare foot.
Jen’s feet were a scrumptious size eight, and she took care to keep them looking very nice. She had soft, rounded, pink heels and toes and pale, soft soles that were loaded with tiny little wrinkles. Her toes were painted bright pink to match her bikini. She got regular pedicures and knew how ticklish her feet were, but this was so much worse!
She giggled and squealed as the feather made its torturous march up and down her left sole, and then her right, and then back again. She swore she had become more ticklish since they had come to the beach house, and laughed and begged in earnest as Rachel began to slip the feather in between each of her helplessly wriggling toes.
Simon watched helplessly as his wife laughed and begged for mercy, her back arching ever so slightly off the bed, showing off her slightly bouncing breasts. Her soft, red hair was matted to her forehead and the sight of his wife being tickled mercilessly by a gorgeous, but obviously crazy, woman was beginning to turn him on! Simon had always tickled his wife, as she was very ticklish, and never really thought twice about it, but this was definitely getting him excited. He looked down at his wife’s feet, and felt another jolt of sexual energy shoot through him as Rachel was now using the quill end of the feather to ‘write’ “I’m a ticklish little baby” on the balls of his pretty wife’s feet. Simon didn’t quite get it, but he knew he was horny, and oddly very thirsty.
Jen was practically screaming with laughter now and Rachel was giggling along with her, and even Rachel’s giggling seemed to turn Simon on. “What is happening to me?” He thought, “Am I really getting off on this? On, you know…tickling?”
Jen was feeling a bit different as well. She began to feel little tingling in a very private place every time the feather stroked her unbearably ticklish feet. “What the hell?” she thought to herself, “This is not something I’ve ever gotten off on in the past, why is this mad woman’s tickling getting me going?”
Just then Jen’s laughter died down, and was replaced with heaving gasps for air as Rachel checked her quite-oversized watch.
“Oh, drat!” she exclaimed, “It seems I’ve gotten carried away and left the cream on a bit too long. Don’t worry it’s very mild stuff, but it will just make the side effects a tad more…pronounced.”
With that announcement, Rachel produced a soft chamois cloth, and rubbed the cream off in slow circular motions, first the left underarm, then the right. The results were incredible. Jen’s already very attractive underarms became breathtakingly perfect. There was no trace of stubble, in fact, it looked like there had never been hair there at all! Jen craned her neck around to catch a glimpse, and even she was astounded at the results. Truly this company had hair removal figured out! There was no hint of redness or irritation either, in fact it was quite the opposite. Her armpits felt like they had just been treated to a very expensive lotion. Looking back up at her tormenter however, Jen felt a pang of helpless fear as she knew exactly what was coming next.
“Please!” Jen squealed in helpless anticipation “Please please please! Not there! Anywhere but the armpits!”
Rachel chuckled softly to herself as she eyes her handiwork up close, twin feathers still in hand.
“I’m afraid, dear Jen, that there really isn’t much you could do to stop me, and besides, it’s in the name of science…and beauty! Beauty-science!”
Jen’s eyebrow arched as she considered the odd response from this eccentric woman, but didn’t have time to do much else as Rachel lowered a feather to sweep over Jen’s left armpit. The effects were just as unbelievable as the effects of the cream were at removing her stubble. Jen bucked and tried desperately to pull down her arm to protect her helpless armpit, but the straps held her arms very tightly in place. There was nothing she could do to avoid the torment, and that reality was being made very clear to her by the mad scientist’s maddening feather-strokes.
“EEEEYYYAHAHAHAHAHAH!” The laughter poured over Jen’s glossy-pink lips like water bursting forth from a dam, filling the room with echoing feminine laughter.
“It seems” pondered Rachel, “that the side-effects are most pronounced in this vict….er subject. Make a note of that Claude.”
He moved to do just that, and realized that he had neither a pen, nor paper. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders and focused his attention back to the gorgeous redhead writhing on the bed.
Rachel brought the other feather into play now, stroking it over the right armpit in tandem with the feather stroking the left. Jen’s laughter increased now to a very desperate level, causing Simon to shift uncomfortably in his seat, to try and avoid anyone noticing his obvious arousal.
“PLEASE! HAHAHHA! THIS IS HAHAH TORTURE! HAHA YOU’VE GOTTA STAHAHAHAHAP!”
Jen’s begging became frantic, and Rachel smirked in obvious enjoyment of her ministrations.
“Stop?” she quipped, “my dear, we have many more tests to perform yet!”
“Noooo! Please!” Jen begged, in between gulps of much-needed air, “I can't take it! It's driving me crazy!”
“Crazy? I know personally, for a fact, that tickling has never made anyone crazy dear.” Rachel stated in a very matter-of-fact way while nodding her head sharply.
Jen and Simon's eyes both met, and rolled, at that statement.
Rachel set the feathers down on the nightstand next to the bed, cracked her knuckles, and looked down at Jen, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“Well now, where were we? Ah, yes, now I remember!”
With that statement, Rachel begin to gently strum her fingers over Jen's helpless armpits, relishing the silky-softness. She meticulously “inspected” her handiwork, focusing more on the tickling than the results of the product. She knew the cream worked. After all, it was in Trina's Salon back home, and she had used it herself!
At Rachel's handiwork Jen verily exploded. Laughing and struggling, she squirmed and squealed more than she ever had in her life. Her head tossed back, fiery red hair splayed behind her head like a crown, her laughter poured forth in gales, and her body quivered from the torment.
Simon was taken aback. He had always thought Jennifer was the most beautiful woman on Earth, but he had never seen her look more comely than she did now. He was confused, but he didn't care anymore. He simply relished the raw sexual energy he felt toward his wife. He was beginning to look at tickling in a new light now, and could not wait to touch his wife again. He wanted to tickle her, badly, just like Rachel was doing to her now. He only wished he wasn't tied up.
At that thought, Simon managed to tear his eyes from his hysterical, and gorgeous, wife to look down at his wrists. The bonds were gone! He looked up at the goons on his left and right, and they just grinned and tossed the lengths of rope at him. He never even noticed that they had untied him, so entranced was he with the tickling. He walked over to his wife, staring at her perfect feet; Her wriggling toes, the smooth heels, the wrinkles on her flawless soles. It was like waking from a dream. He looked at life in a whole new way now. “Tickling huh, who'd have thought?” He thought to himself. With that thought, he took the plunge. He began to wriggle his fingers on his wife's feet. Clumsily, like someone who was used to only giving occasional, playful pokes. He picked up speed though, and his finesse increased with every stroke of his fingers.
“HAHAHAHAH! Not you too! Simon! Why are you helping?!?!”
Jenn looked shocked, interspersed with her tormented laughing, but she wasn't upset. She loved her husband's touch, and was even beginning to warm to all the tickling, despite how torturous it was. Still, she continued to struggle, despite her new-found enjoyment of the sensations.
Rachel craned her neck to watch Simon's face as he assisted in his wife's torment. She smiled with satisfaction as she watched him, and after a time spoke up.
“You know Simon, if you are enjoying yourself, I should talk to you and your wife about a town in South Florida...”
To Be Continued?
