I've decided to revisit a pair of my favorite characters from 2007. If you'd like to see their original encounters (they will help set this one up), here are the original links. As usual, I love feedback!
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?113486-Feather-Points-(m-f)
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?113779-Feather-Points-part-2-(m-f)
Feather Points: The Edge of the Blade (f/f, mf/f)
by
Kid Indy
Thanh Kim was on a roll. The youngest (and the most likely to draw long looks) at the poker table, she was taking both the tourists and the one seasoned gambler for piles of chips at a time. "This is just what I needed," she told herself, relishing the extra cash that the chips would buy and the release of energy that poker was giving her. Her life had changed so radically in such a short time that she still wondered sometimes what was real. Her first fourteen years she spent on the hard streets of Ho Chi Minh City, too young to be a war baby but reminded by the blond thirty-year-olds that her world wasn't near as hard as their parents' had been. Then, when she was fourteen, her father had hit it rich selling a program to Japanese markets (her father never did say what kind of program, but she had her guesses), and they moved to Singapore, where in her public school the innate talents for math that never saw the light of day in Vietnam turned her into a star student, and besides that she learned English and Japanese. Now, in the second semester of her freshman year at Georgia Tech, she found herself struggling for passing grades. She had heard her classmates talk about the Hawk's Feather, and remembering the card games where she used to make spending money back in Vietnam (perhaps her math skills were not entirely latent), she realized that going back to the cards might just take the edge off that was threatening to ruin college and her future.
At least that's what she had planned. But this was 2008 in America, and casinos do not stay in business letting people keep their secrets. Cameras and face-recognition programs had been relaying information to Blake Jackson's screen for several hands of poker, and the smile on his face broadened as some crucial data came into his hands.
The night's security manager spoke as he saw the same information. "Should we move in?"
"No, let her win some more chips. She's not going anywhere, not while the other players keep letting her win."
He was right, of course--that's why he was such a successful casino owner. Only in his mid-forties, Jackson had turned a mid-level professional athlete's salary into a fortune, and he had turned that fortune into political influence. Rumors floated around the South, as rumors do, that his personal habits tended towards the eccentric, but he was a sharp enough manager both of his assets and of his image that all the press had on him was that Erin Walters, his girlfriend, was nearly twenty years his junior. But young and attractive girlfriends are no new thing among the powerful, and in the years since the Hawk's Feather had opened, the press had learned that there were no really good stories to be written about Blake Jackson.
Kim raked in another pot, and she felt a hand on her bare shoulder. "Miss Thanh, I think we need to have a talk." She turned to see a giant of a man, flanked by almost-as-burly companions, all in black suits.
Turning on her charm as quickly as she could, she smiled at them. "I'm sorry. I don't know anyone named Kim."
"Thanh Kim, you will come with us now. Dealer, seize her winnings." The dealer did just that, and Kim felt strong hands grasp her arms almost before she saw the men move. Before she could think of what to do next, they were hustling her to a corner of the gaming floor and through a door guarded by a man in sunglasses. The men walked her through twisting hallways to a small elevator door. Before anyone had pushed any button, the door opened, and she found herself in a small private elevator, heading up.
Kim reached for her purse. "I'm calling the police! You guys can't do this!"
The two non-speaking security men smiled at one another. The large one, the one with a voice, responded. "Mobile signals don't get into this elevator, Miss Thanh. Besides that, you've been illegally gambling while on a student visa. You're eighteen, and the minimum gaming age is twenty-one. Believe me, the police are the last people you want to see right now."
Mumbling some of the more colorful self-reproaches that the Vietnamese language offers, Kim decided to clam up until she could get her parents to call a lawyer for her. The elevator continued to rise.
When the elevator finally came to a stop, the doors opened to reveal a lavish penthouse, the sort of place that even Kim's father, with his sudden wealth, would never imagine living in. A man who easily could have been as old as Kim's father sat in a chair, facing the elevator. At her approach he stood and looked her over silently. Kim could feel his eyes tracing the contours of her shoulders, bare because her little black dress was cut to accent them. He took in her long black hair, her neck, then moved downwards to enjoy the look of her slim torso. (She knew he was looking at the way her dress pressed her breasts together, accenting what nature normally underplayed.) His eyes moved along the curve from her hips down her legs hungrily, and Kim was thoroughly uncomfortable by the time he paused for a long look at her ankles before returning to her face.
"Miss Thanh, welcome to my home."
"Look, I can explain, mister..."
"You can call me Jackson, and there will be no explaining. I know immigration law, and I know you're here on a student visa. You and I both know that underage gambling is grounds for revocation of that visa, and we have video footage of your gambling. Your file indicates that you're eighteen, not legal. With a quick phone call, I can have you out of college and headed back to Singapore."
Kim nodded. Could he really do that? She wasn't sure, but he exuded a confidence that made it hard to think he was making this up. "Please, Mr. Jackson--"
"Just Jackson will do."
"Jackson, I can't go back home! My parents worked so hard to get me here, and I'd die if I disappointed them! I'll never do this again!"
"I'm sure you won't, Miss Thanh, but you do understand that I'm taking a personal risk if I don't report you."
"I can make it up--how much money do you want?"
Blake Jackson laughed loudly. "Money, Miss Thanh? Look around. What kind of money do you think you can offer me?"
"Then what?" An obvious answer to that question occurred to her, and immediately mental images of the warbaby women flashed in her mind. She stepped backwards and gasped.
"Go ahead, Miss Thanh. I know what you're thinking. You might as well say it out loud."
"No, please, Mr. Jackson! I can't have sex with you!"
"I would imagine you're perfectly capable, Miss Thanh. But that's not what I want."
Kim's shoulders released some tension, but only until she began to wonder what he did want. "What do you want with me, then?"
Jackson took a step forward, and Kim shrunk back. "I want you to relax, for one. The last thing I need is an underage gambling scandal. And I know the last thing you want is to be deported." Kim relaxed just a bit more. "So to make things square, I'll need your winnings back, of course."
"Yes, yes! I was just playing to blow off some steam anyway."
"And I can understand that, Miss Thanh." The elevator door slid open with a low, airy sound, and Kim jumped and turned to see a young white woman, not too much older than herself, step out. Taller than Kim, this woman had legs to kill for and wore a short skirt that showed enough of those legs that even Kim was impressed. Jackson addressed her with a showman's voice. "Ah, Erin! I want you to meet Thanh Kim, our guest. She had some confusion about local gambling laws, but we're about to sort that out."
Erin replied with a trace of annoyance. "Blake, what's she doing here?"
"She was just about to take her shoes off and get comfortable. And you, Erin, are going to supply the comfort."
Now it was Erin who shrunk, and Kim started to watch for an opportunity to escape whatever was coming. Erin began to turn, only to see that a large guard stood between her and the elevator. She turned back to Jackson. "Look, Blake, if this is how you break up with people, I'm not amused. Now let me go back to my apartment if there's no business here."
"Not business, Erin. Pleasure. I want to give you a chance to make double your normal rate, but without getting tickled."
Now Kim's heart started to pound. She had heard some of the boys in her classes talk in joking and boasting tones about the rumors. She had never really believed them when they talked about the girls who came to the Hawk's Feather and gotten tickled for money, but she seemed to be in the presence of just such a girl. Her skin began to crawl as she imagined this beautiful woman tied down and tickled. Then she started thinking about what Jackson had said to her just before she arrived. The words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to think how bad it would be to speak up. "No, Mr. Jackson! I can't take my shoes off!"
Jackson turned and looked at her. "Well, Miss Thanh, either your shoes come off, or I'm calling Immigration. Miss Walters here has never tickled another woman before, and I can just tell you've never been restrained and tickled before, and I want to see both of these things happen tonight."
Erin Walters's face began to turn red. "I'm not going to be part of your lesbian fantasy, Blake! Just let me go. I've wanted out of here for a while now, and this is the last straw!"
"You can leave after tonight, my beauty, but first I want this show." He began to walk towards Erin, who stood defiantly. "Of course, if you have objections to tickling another woman, I could have you restrained and let Miss Thanh do her work on YOU!"
Kim once again found herself speaking before she thought. "Yes, Mr. Jackson! Let me tickle her! I'll get her laughing so hard you won't want me to stop!"
Erin wheeled around and pointed a finger at Kim. "You stay out of this, you little tramp! Nobody ties me up!"
Jackson tossed his head back and laughed. "Erin, Erin! This is your chance to be in the driver's seat after being my toy for all these months!" He walked alongside her and whispered just loud enough so that Kim could also hear him. "And remember, I know where all of your most ticklish spots are." He leaned in so that he seemed almost to lick her earlobe as he continued. "And I know how to get you so hot that you get more ticklish than you can stand. You don't want to be tied down and at this girl's mercy while that's happening, do you?"
Erin brushed him aside as she took a long step towards Kim. Her eyes narrowed as her inner predator surfaced. "Alright. Tie her up."
Kim was now in a full panic. "Mr. Jackson! Please! I'll get her hot too! You've never seen her laugh as hard as I'll make her!"
"That might be the case, Miss Thanh," Jackson said calmly, "But right now, she's my favorite woman, and that means she gets a shot at you. Now here's how this is going to work. I don't want to get anyone hurt, so why don't you take off those shoes and that dress for me."
"The hose too?" Kim cursed herself silently for speaking without thinking.
"No, I like the hose. Leave them and your underwear on for now. Like I said, I don't want sex. But you'll find out soon enough why I like those black hose on you." Kim started looking around, back towards the elevator door, at the windows. "Believe me, Miss Thanh, you don't want to know what will happen if I have to get my associates to undress you. You're much better off cooperating at this point." With a short breath of resignation, Kim began to unzip her own dress as Jackson and his guards looked on, licking their lips.
Erin turned to Jackson and took the moment to growl more words of disapproval. "I can't believe you're making me do this, Blake. This is really the last straw."
"Nobody's making you do anything, Erin. As I said before, you have the choice of tickling or being tickled."
"You and your choices! I swear I'm getting out after this."
"You always have that choice too, Erin. Who knows? Perhaps Miss Thanh here will make a good companion for a while." Kim, who was now removing her shoes, shivered a bit as she imagined what the white girl's relationship with Jackson must have been like. She heard a door open, and when she turned back to Jackson, he was gesturing towards the open door. "Into the room, shall we?" All three, plus the guards, entered the door. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Kim tried to step back, only to bump into a guard. She had never been much of a fan of horror movies, but the room could have been the set of her nightmares: metal frames with a web of padded bungee cords, a full-size bed with padded handcuffs attached to high posts, and a high bar with more padded cuffs dangling greeted her.
"No! I don't want to do this any more!"
"Again, Miss Thanh, I'm going to suggest strongly that you cooperate at this point. There's no going back, and you'll be in here much longer if you fight us."
"Which one are you going to tie me to?"
"That's Erin's choice. Erin?"
"Screw you, Blake. I'm done." Erin turned to leave, but a guard stepped between her and the door.
"No, Erin, the evening is young. Miss Thanh, would you like to choose which one Erin is tied to?"
Erin's eyes blazed. "No! No, Blake, I'll play your game tonight. Put her on the high bar."
"Miss Thanh, after the guards adjust the high bar, please cuff one of your hands." After two of the men in suits brought the bar down several inches (Erin could not help but note that the bar had been set at her particular height for some time), Kim found herself, to her horror, reaching one arm up and using the other to secure the padded wrist strap. She was surprised how comfortably it fit. "Now Erin, cuff the other." Erin was glaring at Blake as she walked over to the high bar, so she did not see Kim's hand dart out at her to squeeze her side, just below the rib. Erin squealed and jumped, and Blake roared with laughter. "Oh, Miss Thanh, you do know how to put on an audition!"
"I told you! Let me tickle her! There's no need to have me tied up here!"
"I'll show you a need!" Erin grasped Kim's wrist with both hands and violently hauled it upwards towards the cuff. She was a bit horrified at the rush it gave her when the young Vietnamese body was exposed in all of its smooth, ticklish glory in front of her. Shaking that thought off, she turned to Blake. "What do I have to do now, Blake?"
"You don't have to do anything. Still your choice. But I'm going to see at least an hour of girl-on-girl tickling this fine evening. If you keep Miss Thanh laughing, you won't feel her fingers again. But if you bore me here, it'll be you in the device!"
Erin glared once more, then turned to her work. Thanh Kim was not a rail-thin girl, but stretched out on the high bar, her hips and rib cage were highlighted, and Erin knew what some work on those nerves could do to a girl. But first she wanted to make sure she didn't get kicked, so she attached ankle cuffs to the Vietnamese girl, tightening them so that her feet could not get above her knees. Then she knew she had to get the Vietnamese girl laughing. Starting just inches below each elbow, Erin started to trace lines down into Kim's armpits. Kim began to squirm, her face contorting as she tried not to smile. Three fingers on each of Erin's hands started to swipe down the underarm skin in turn, drumming an unheard slow-march beat over and over and over. Erin felt a familiar sensation as she sensed the body in front of her giving in, and to her horror, she started to enjoy what was going on in spite of her own anger. When the first frustrated moan escaped from Kim's lips, Erin closed her eyes for a moment as she sped up the finger-drumming, and when her eyes re-opened, she locked gazes with Kim and began to drink in the fear and the waning defiance. Her fingers, now all four on each hand, kept sliding over the smooth skin under Kim's arms, and when each thumb started tracing a counter-path from the edges of her breasts into the armpit, the contest ended abruptly. Thanh Kim erupted into a rapid, girlish giggle, squealing her last bits of protest and pumping her knees as the sensations she could not block overwhelmed her. Erin's own pleasure rose steadily as she continued to work on those underarms, and Kim's silk-clad feet danced a futile shuffle on the floor as her laughter poured out of her. Erin, when she could see that Kim was starting to fatigue from the laughing, let off, her own hands dropping to her sides.
She walked around behind Kim and whispered in her ear, looking not at Kim but over her shoulder at Jackson as she did. "Not what you expected, is it? Just wait until I start on your ribs. You have no idea how ready you'll be to beg when I really get going!"
Kim tried to maintain some dignity. "You might think you're tough, but you don't know where I'm from."
"It doesn't matter, kid. It won't matter at all soon." Now standing behind her, Erin traced the bottom of Kim's bra with two fingertips, making her inhale sharply, then started to trace zig-zagging lines down to the bottom rib on each side. Using her thumbs to brace her hands, she placed two fingertips on the ridge where the last rib gave way to Kim's abdomen. "Get ready to amuse Blake, kid." And amusing Kim was: As the fingertips began to squeeze the vulnerable spots just below the ribcage, Kim's already-laughing body sprang into action, leaping and twisting but never getting away from the fingertips that Erin had placed on her. Her fingertips went from racing to gripping with a flash, and having her sides squeezed sent Kim's knees together and her heels towards the walls. Blake Jackson watched with obvious enjoyment as the two young women's bodies moved, Erin's starting to rub against Kim's as Kim's thrashed from the tickling. Before long Kim's torso started to go limp, the struggle leaving her. Slinking around her victim, Erin slowly moved to the front of her young body and began focusing her fingertips on the lovely hips, accented by the sharp lines of her black underwear. Erin traced those lines, her fingernails zipping this way and that and keeping Kim in perpetual agony. Lost in the moment, Erin did not notice Blake sneaking up behind her, but as his hand reached around her waist, his tongue on her earlobe broke her off of her pursuit.
She wheeled around, breathless. "What are you doing?"
Blake advanced, and Erin backed against a wall. His hand shot to her hip and squeezed, making her gasp. "I'm giving Miss Thanh a break and seeing whether you're getting as hot as you look. I think you are!" His hand crept towards her behind.
"No... I'm not doing this..."
"You're already doing this, Erin. Why not enjoy it?" With the hand that wasn't pulling her towards his own hips, Blake gestured towards Thanh Kim. "Strap her into the web." He turned to kiss Erin, who found herself kissing back before she pulled away.
"Please, Blake, just let me go..."
"I don't think that's what you really want, Erin! Just look at the banquet in front of you!" He gestured to the web, a cubical frame to which tight bungee cords were secured. Erin had known the web from the inside many times, but now she saw it as Blake must have seen it, with a young woman's feet and legs accessible to her on one side, and her torso ready to torture from the other. "I want to see you go after her feet, Erin!"
Thanh Kim pulled at the restraints, which moved with her only long enough to build up tension before pulling her back into position. "Please, not the feet. Let me tickle your girl! I'll do a great job!"
"No, Miss Thanh, I want to see what your feet and legs are like." He moved a hand back down to the front of Erin's skirt, drawing another sharp inhaling gasp. "And I think that Miss Watson wants to show me."
Erin pulled away from Blake and walked over to the cube. From a new perspective she could see that, the way Kim's legs were spread, she could, if she wanted, walk in and stand between her knees. All of the ticklish skin from her inner ankles all the way up to her inner thighs were there for the taking, but Erin knew that Blake really wanted to see her go after those silk-clad feet. Running her tongue over her lips before she caught herself doing so, Erin approached one of them. Kim started to pull against the bungee cords, but Erin knew how to counter that from her own experience. Grabbing the cord just above where it joined the metal ring on the padded ankle-cuff, Erin brought her own torso into sync with Kim's foot. Wherever the foot went now, Erin's center of gravity would go with it. The brown skin under the black silk, Erin couldn't deny, was a sight to see, and her own curiosity was starting to get the advantage over her resentment for Blake. Erin extended her free hand, palm up, towards Kim's sole, and when her fingertips made contact with the stocking, she began to stroke the foot, finger following finger, up the curve of heel and sole, feeling with her other hand the renewed tension on the web.
Kim gasped, then started to beg: "You can't do this to me! Please! I can't take this!"
"You'll take as much as I've got to give, kid. And I'm feeling generous tonight!" Erin's wrist turned slightly, and her motion changed from upward strokes on the sole to a finger-and-thumb pinching motion across the back of the ball of Kim's foot. The quick motion, amplified by the silk, was a sweet spot that neither young woman anticipated, and Kim's begging erupted into a wordless squeal.
Bingo.
With her new toy now pulling and laughing, Erin let her body move with Kim's leg, and she worked that spot on her foot with a gusto that everyone in the room was enjoying. Kim's long black hair thrashed back and forth, shaking out of its ponytail, as her ticklish skin rendered the bright young woman incapable of words. Erin kept the crab-claw pinching motion going longer than Kim ever thought she could bear, and Kim kept feeding her tormentor with the glorious sounds of gasping and giggling and squealing every time she worked on that spot. Erin's fingers would switch from a pinch to a sidelong running motion with index and middle fingers, and Kim, feeling a new sensation on that terrible spot, would erupt, giving Erin even more of what she wanted. Erin tickled that foot with a ferocity that was no longer self-preservation, and Kim's laughter progressed from alarm to desperation, her breathing getting faster as she experienced the real terror of being made to laugh. When Erin let go of the cord supporting the ankle-cuff, she glanced at a wall, where one of Blake's video displays sometimes lit up, and realized that she had been working on that foot for seventeen minutes. She released the cord and let Kim catch her breath.
She walked from in front of her foot to between her legs. "Not so tough now, are you?"
"Please... just leave me alone..."
"We're just getting started, kid! Oh!" Erin jumped as she felt Blake's arm around her hip. To her own shock, she did not pull away as he pulled his own body close and began to kiss her neck. Her hands, however, fell limp as the moment overtook her.
"No, Erin, keep tickling. I want to enjoy you as you enjoy this!"
"No, Blake, I can't..."
A familiar hand gave Erin's hip a squeeze, and she gasped and squealed. "Remember, Erin, I know just how ticklish you get when you get hot, and honey, you are hot right now! You don't want me to switch your places at this point, do you?"
Kim saw a glimmer, perhaps her only shot at being saved from her own skin: "Yes, Mr. Jackson! Put her up here!"
Erin wheeled around on her, escaping Jackson's hands for a moment and putting her own body between Kim's ankles. "No, little girl, now you're going to find out what happens once you're this ticklish! I'm taking this show right up the middle!" Erin's hands shot out and grasped the undersides of of Kim's knees. Her quickly scrabbling fingers sent Kim's whole body into a quaking dance, and her scream did not last long before she started laughing again. And Erin didn't wait long to move from a scratching under the knees to a claw grip on the inside of each thigh, high and inside, just where Kim's black panties showed the line. And for the first time, Erin knew what this grip felt like from the other side. She knew well what the young Vietnamese girl was experiencing: her thashing hair and surging hips told her that, like Erin, she was out of her mind, most of her wanting those hands off of her body, but more and more of her wanting those hands just a little higher, enough to release the flood that was building. She touched the girl's thighs in ways that she could imagine on her own body, and she could feel her own body heating up, not in the same way that she did when Blake had her in the web, but in ways that she had imagined when she caught herself imagining. And in a strange way that would have been creepy in the abstract but in the moment irresistible, Erin knew now what Blake must have felt all those times his hands were on her thighs, waiting for the begging to start, enjoying the muscular squirming against the bonds, working the body in the web into a state that nothing prepares a girl for.
Then Erin's reflections could be no more.
Like a snake striking, Blake's hand was up under her own skirt, his other arm wrapped around her hip, his fingers stroking the flesh along her beltline. Erin's breath sucked in with all the speed that her body could muster, and when she felt Blake's tongue on her ear, she let that gigantic breath out in a rush. Her own hands flew from Kim's thighs and to the arms that now enveloped her.
"You stopped tickling, Erin!"
The lower hand kept her from forming words, and the other arched her back. The arm wrapped around her moved up, and Erin once again gasped as he squeezed through her bra. Erin was no longer calling even her own shots as she wheeled around and locked lips with the older man. Thanh Kim gasped as the building sensations suddenly ceased, and Blake Jackson locked eyes with the Vietnamese girl as his Georgia girlfriend's hips surged against his own. His own hands grasped Erin's ass and pulled her into his own hips, and Thanh Kim's eyes bulged as her body's urges met with the passionate scene just inches from her eyes.
"Unhhh!" The girl in the web strained at the cables as her body's electricity surged. Blake Jackson had not broken glances with her, and now Erin, turning slowly, regarded her with a very different, very hungry look. Thanh Kim writhed in the web, afraid and frustrated and seeking release.
Erin leaned back against Jackson and purred. "Do you remember the night with the microphone stand?" Jackson, who did not look away, began to grin. "Let's see if she can hold still long enough."
"Please, just let my hands go! I'll do anything!"
Erin leaned in closer. "Oh, you will, Miss Thanh. You will."
Jackson, who had given some instructions at a whisper to one of the guards, walked back to Erin and put his arms around her waist. Into her ear he said, loud enough for Kim to hear, "You're really enjoying being on this end of things, aren't you? Not even I expected you'd enjoy it this much." Erin turned once more and embraced her lover, mashing tongue and lips, hands up and down his back.
Kim just waited, resigned to the fact that she could do nothing to stop whatever was on its way. She let out another moan as she saw a guard carry into the room a microphone stand. As he approached she could see what awaited her at the top: that was no microphone but a chrome cylinder about ten inches long, ending in a rounded tip. "NO! You can't put that in me!"
Blake, whose gaze had finally turned from Kim to Erin, looked back at the Vietnamese girl. "No, Miss Thanh, we told you that your underwear stays on. And if you want to, you can stay right where you are and ignore the device on the microphone stand. But I have a hunch that you'd very much like to lean in just a bit." With that Jackson began to adjust the height of the stand so that the device's tip was parallel with Kim's panties and turned the device on. The metal column hummed to life, and even from two feet away Kim could feel the rapid vibrations. As he slid the stand closer, so that there was only an inch of air between Kim and the buzzing device, The air between Kim and the microphone stand was nothing short of electrifying, and Kim felt her own hips strain forward. When her crotch touched the device, she gasped with pleasure and the promise of release.
Then the world dropped out from beneath her.
Erin, who had moved quietly behind her during Jackson's monologue, once more dug her fingertips into Kim's armpits, and the suffering girl's hips involuntarily bucked. Her body, which just an instant before was tasting the beginning of a glorious climax, suddenly could not find that humming tip, and the fingers under her arms would not stop long enough to let her get her bearings. "LET GO OF ME! LET ME DO THIS!" Erin laughed in her ear and kept tickling her underarms.
Then bad went to worse: Erin's fingers began to squeeze underneath Kim's ribs, ending the verbal protest and sending Kim's voice into a desperate cackle. At the same moment, she brushed up against the cylinder, just for a moment, only to feel Blake Jackson's fingers grab her left foot's toes and pull back. As Erin's fingers continued to draw laughter from her mouth, and the occasional brush with the vibrating chrome promised her a release that remained out of reach, she knew that whatever happened to her feet next was going to send her somewhere she had never been before.
She was right.
Kim's hips twisted violently, away from the mic stand, and she let out a ticklish scream as Blake Jackson, the most experienced tickler in the room, began to work on her silk-clad sole. As that desperate breath left her, she gasped and writhed as Erin tickled her sides. Her breathing had gone silent, but her body continued to thrash as the expert and the woman who so quickly had learned her body's secrets continued to pinch and stroke and torture her ticklish skin. Jackson, who knew just how to turn silk stockings into engines of torture, continued to press the ticklish flesh, and Kim's laughter returned as she regained her breath. Erin now pressed her own body against Kim's back, and her eager fingers tickled the backs of the girl's thighs, right where they joined her bottom. Kim's tortured laughter now lapsed into silent wheezing for several seconds, and Erin and Jackson, exchanging a glance, both relented to let her breathe. Now the air between Kim's panties and the mic stand was nothing short of magnetic, and she moaned as she leaned forward into it.
Erin now began to whisper in her ear. "Now you've got a choice, Miss Thanh. Believe me when I tell you that a woman's skin becomes more ticklish than you can imagine right after a climax. If you keep this up, you'll be in more kinds of trouble than you know." With a dexterous foot she leaned the stand away from Kim's crotch, and the younger girl once more let out a moan.
"No! Just let me have that!"
Erin's toes continued to grasp the mic stand, and a devilish grin crossed her face as she looked into Jackson's eyes. "Do you really want it back?"
"YES!"
"What would you be willing to trade me?"
"Please! Just let me finish!"
"Can I have that push-up bra if I let you have the mic stand back?" Now Jackson had his turn to grin.
"No! Just let me finish!"
"The bra or nothing, Miss Thanh!"
"Yes! Just put the stand back! Just put the stand back!"
"Your choice, Miss Thanh!" Erin let the stand return to its vertical position, and Kim could scarcely even feel her bra straps releasing as she thrust herself into the vibrations. The moan that she let out told everyone in the room just how much she needed that, and her body became limp. As she panted, her eyes closed, and a smile came to her lips. But her ecstasy, or at least the rest after the ecstasy, was short-lived.
"Miss Thanh! It's time to pay for that." She recognized Erin's voice, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the brunette standing in front of her, a long stiff feather between her fingers.
"No! Just let me go! I've given you everything!" She gasped as she felt the toes on her right foot grasped and pulled backwards, stretching her other sole. "I can't take any more!"
Erin's grinning teeth looked like the fangs of a she-wolf to the young Vietnamese woman. "You've got plenty more to offer, Miss Thanh. Don't sell yourself short!" With that Jackson began on her foot, and Kim's body found reserves of energy she had not even dreamed of. Erin had been right: before the climax, she had been more ticklish than she had ever feared, but now her body was going places that she never even had the capacity to fear. Erin continued to stand before her, the face of Hell, as Jackson, Hell's fingers, touched and prodded and stroked the nerves in her foot, set afire by the sexual encounter. When Kim's eyes saw the feather descending, she had already given up, knowing that her body was at its limits.
How wrong she was.
The feather's first long stroke, across her left nipple, arched Kim's back, heightened the terrible tickling of her foot, pulled out of her a sound that she had never heard a woman make, much less a sound that she could remember herself making. Kim was no virgin--she had been with boys before college and at Tech--but whatever hit her breast when that feather made its pull was like nothing she had ever dreamed of, sweetly or in terror. "Did you like that, Miss Thanh? We have plenty more to do with this feather. We shouldn't neglect that other lovely breast, now that we've got both, do you think?" But Kim was not thinking at all: as the feather drew its course across the right breast, and as Jackson continued to torture her foot, her memory left her. In the days to come Kim would often wonder just how long, just how intensely the pair had actually tickled her after she blacked out.
When she regained her senses, she was lying on a large bed, and she knew immediately that Erin and Blake were beside her. As she gathered her clothes (she left her ruined panties and hose) to leave, she could tell that, after she had forgotten where she was, the pair had no doubt made love, enflamed by her own torment. She shuddered at the thought but kept moving quickly, eager to leave the ticklish Hell that still seemed to want more from her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the guard at the elevator stepped aside and let her enter.
Riding with the guard to the parking garage, Thanh Kim knew that she should have hose under her short skirt, but escape was more important than fashion, and when the elevator opened into the parking garage, she moved as quickly as her body would let her towards her car and climbed in. On the passenger seat there were two envelopes. In one, Kim quickly realized, was a stack of twenty-dollar bills. A quick count told her it was several hundred dollars, maybe a thousand. In the other, a hand-written note read, "You're too young to gamble legally, but there are other ways to make some good money here. Give me a call if you're interested in visiting Erin and me again."
To her own terror, Thanh Kim did not destroy that note.
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?113486-Feather-Points-(m-f)
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?113779-Feather-Points-part-2-(m-f)
Feather Points: The Edge of the Blade (f/f, mf/f)
by
Kid Indy
Thanh Kim was on a roll. The youngest (and the most likely to draw long looks) at the poker table, she was taking both the tourists and the one seasoned gambler for piles of chips at a time. "This is just what I needed," she told herself, relishing the extra cash that the chips would buy and the release of energy that poker was giving her. Her life had changed so radically in such a short time that she still wondered sometimes what was real. Her first fourteen years she spent on the hard streets of Ho Chi Minh City, too young to be a war baby but reminded by the blond thirty-year-olds that her world wasn't near as hard as their parents' had been. Then, when she was fourteen, her father had hit it rich selling a program to Japanese markets (her father never did say what kind of program, but she had her guesses), and they moved to Singapore, where in her public school the innate talents for math that never saw the light of day in Vietnam turned her into a star student, and besides that she learned English and Japanese. Now, in the second semester of her freshman year at Georgia Tech, she found herself struggling for passing grades. She had heard her classmates talk about the Hawk's Feather, and remembering the card games where she used to make spending money back in Vietnam (perhaps her math skills were not entirely latent), she realized that going back to the cards might just take the edge off that was threatening to ruin college and her future.
At least that's what she had planned. But this was 2008 in America, and casinos do not stay in business letting people keep their secrets. Cameras and face-recognition programs had been relaying information to Blake Jackson's screen for several hands of poker, and the smile on his face broadened as some crucial data came into his hands.
The night's security manager spoke as he saw the same information. "Should we move in?"
"No, let her win some more chips. She's not going anywhere, not while the other players keep letting her win."
He was right, of course--that's why he was such a successful casino owner. Only in his mid-forties, Jackson had turned a mid-level professional athlete's salary into a fortune, and he had turned that fortune into political influence. Rumors floated around the South, as rumors do, that his personal habits tended towards the eccentric, but he was a sharp enough manager both of his assets and of his image that all the press had on him was that Erin Walters, his girlfriend, was nearly twenty years his junior. But young and attractive girlfriends are no new thing among the powerful, and in the years since the Hawk's Feather had opened, the press had learned that there were no really good stories to be written about Blake Jackson.
Kim raked in another pot, and she felt a hand on her bare shoulder. "Miss Thanh, I think we need to have a talk." She turned to see a giant of a man, flanked by almost-as-burly companions, all in black suits.
Turning on her charm as quickly as she could, she smiled at them. "I'm sorry. I don't know anyone named Kim."
"Thanh Kim, you will come with us now. Dealer, seize her winnings." The dealer did just that, and Kim felt strong hands grasp her arms almost before she saw the men move. Before she could think of what to do next, they were hustling her to a corner of the gaming floor and through a door guarded by a man in sunglasses. The men walked her through twisting hallways to a small elevator door. Before anyone had pushed any button, the door opened, and she found herself in a small private elevator, heading up.
Kim reached for her purse. "I'm calling the police! You guys can't do this!"
The two non-speaking security men smiled at one another. The large one, the one with a voice, responded. "Mobile signals don't get into this elevator, Miss Thanh. Besides that, you've been illegally gambling while on a student visa. You're eighteen, and the minimum gaming age is twenty-one. Believe me, the police are the last people you want to see right now."
Mumbling some of the more colorful self-reproaches that the Vietnamese language offers, Kim decided to clam up until she could get her parents to call a lawyer for her. The elevator continued to rise.
When the elevator finally came to a stop, the doors opened to reveal a lavish penthouse, the sort of place that even Kim's father, with his sudden wealth, would never imagine living in. A man who easily could have been as old as Kim's father sat in a chair, facing the elevator. At her approach he stood and looked her over silently. Kim could feel his eyes tracing the contours of her shoulders, bare because her little black dress was cut to accent them. He took in her long black hair, her neck, then moved downwards to enjoy the look of her slim torso. (She knew he was looking at the way her dress pressed her breasts together, accenting what nature normally underplayed.) His eyes moved along the curve from her hips down her legs hungrily, and Kim was thoroughly uncomfortable by the time he paused for a long look at her ankles before returning to her face.
"Miss Thanh, welcome to my home."
"Look, I can explain, mister..."
"You can call me Jackson, and there will be no explaining. I know immigration law, and I know you're here on a student visa. You and I both know that underage gambling is grounds for revocation of that visa, and we have video footage of your gambling. Your file indicates that you're eighteen, not legal. With a quick phone call, I can have you out of college and headed back to Singapore."
Kim nodded. Could he really do that? She wasn't sure, but he exuded a confidence that made it hard to think he was making this up. "Please, Mr. Jackson--"
"Just Jackson will do."
"Jackson, I can't go back home! My parents worked so hard to get me here, and I'd die if I disappointed them! I'll never do this again!"
"I'm sure you won't, Miss Thanh, but you do understand that I'm taking a personal risk if I don't report you."
"I can make it up--how much money do you want?"
Blake Jackson laughed loudly. "Money, Miss Thanh? Look around. What kind of money do you think you can offer me?"
"Then what?" An obvious answer to that question occurred to her, and immediately mental images of the warbaby women flashed in her mind. She stepped backwards and gasped.
"Go ahead, Miss Thanh. I know what you're thinking. You might as well say it out loud."
"No, please, Mr. Jackson! I can't have sex with you!"
"I would imagine you're perfectly capable, Miss Thanh. But that's not what I want."
Kim's shoulders released some tension, but only until she began to wonder what he did want. "What do you want with me, then?"
Jackson took a step forward, and Kim shrunk back. "I want you to relax, for one. The last thing I need is an underage gambling scandal. And I know the last thing you want is to be deported." Kim relaxed just a bit more. "So to make things square, I'll need your winnings back, of course."
"Yes, yes! I was just playing to blow off some steam anyway."
"And I can understand that, Miss Thanh." The elevator door slid open with a low, airy sound, and Kim jumped and turned to see a young white woman, not too much older than herself, step out. Taller than Kim, this woman had legs to kill for and wore a short skirt that showed enough of those legs that even Kim was impressed. Jackson addressed her with a showman's voice. "Ah, Erin! I want you to meet Thanh Kim, our guest. She had some confusion about local gambling laws, but we're about to sort that out."
Erin replied with a trace of annoyance. "Blake, what's she doing here?"
"She was just about to take her shoes off and get comfortable. And you, Erin, are going to supply the comfort."
Now it was Erin who shrunk, and Kim started to watch for an opportunity to escape whatever was coming. Erin began to turn, only to see that a large guard stood between her and the elevator. She turned back to Jackson. "Look, Blake, if this is how you break up with people, I'm not amused. Now let me go back to my apartment if there's no business here."
"Not business, Erin. Pleasure. I want to give you a chance to make double your normal rate, but without getting tickled."
Now Kim's heart started to pound. She had heard some of the boys in her classes talk in joking and boasting tones about the rumors. She had never really believed them when they talked about the girls who came to the Hawk's Feather and gotten tickled for money, but she seemed to be in the presence of just such a girl. Her skin began to crawl as she imagined this beautiful woman tied down and tickled. Then she started thinking about what Jackson had said to her just before she arrived. The words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to think how bad it would be to speak up. "No, Mr. Jackson! I can't take my shoes off!"
Jackson turned and looked at her. "Well, Miss Thanh, either your shoes come off, or I'm calling Immigration. Miss Walters here has never tickled another woman before, and I can just tell you've never been restrained and tickled before, and I want to see both of these things happen tonight."
Erin Walters's face began to turn red. "I'm not going to be part of your lesbian fantasy, Blake! Just let me go. I've wanted out of here for a while now, and this is the last straw!"
"You can leave after tonight, my beauty, but first I want this show." He began to walk towards Erin, who stood defiantly. "Of course, if you have objections to tickling another woman, I could have you restrained and let Miss Thanh do her work on YOU!"
Kim once again found herself speaking before she thought. "Yes, Mr. Jackson! Let me tickle her! I'll get her laughing so hard you won't want me to stop!"
Erin wheeled around and pointed a finger at Kim. "You stay out of this, you little tramp! Nobody ties me up!"
Jackson tossed his head back and laughed. "Erin, Erin! This is your chance to be in the driver's seat after being my toy for all these months!" He walked alongside her and whispered just loud enough so that Kim could also hear him. "And remember, I know where all of your most ticklish spots are." He leaned in so that he seemed almost to lick her earlobe as he continued. "And I know how to get you so hot that you get more ticklish than you can stand. You don't want to be tied down and at this girl's mercy while that's happening, do you?"
Erin brushed him aside as she took a long step towards Kim. Her eyes narrowed as her inner predator surfaced. "Alright. Tie her up."
Kim was now in a full panic. "Mr. Jackson! Please! I'll get her hot too! You've never seen her laugh as hard as I'll make her!"
"That might be the case, Miss Thanh," Jackson said calmly, "But right now, she's my favorite woman, and that means she gets a shot at you. Now here's how this is going to work. I don't want to get anyone hurt, so why don't you take off those shoes and that dress for me."
"The hose too?" Kim cursed herself silently for speaking without thinking.
"No, I like the hose. Leave them and your underwear on for now. Like I said, I don't want sex. But you'll find out soon enough why I like those black hose on you." Kim started looking around, back towards the elevator door, at the windows. "Believe me, Miss Thanh, you don't want to know what will happen if I have to get my associates to undress you. You're much better off cooperating at this point." With a short breath of resignation, Kim began to unzip her own dress as Jackson and his guards looked on, licking their lips.
Erin turned to Jackson and took the moment to growl more words of disapproval. "I can't believe you're making me do this, Blake. This is really the last straw."
"Nobody's making you do anything, Erin. As I said before, you have the choice of tickling or being tickled."
"You and your choices! I swear I'm getting out after this."
"You always have that choice too, Erin. Who knows? Perhaps Miss Thanh here will make a good companion for a while." Kim, who was now removing her shoes, shivered a bit as she imagined what the white girl's relationship with Jackson must have been like. She heard a door open, and when she turned back to Jackson, he was gesturing towards the open door. "Into the room, shall we?" All three, plus the guards, entered the door. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Kim tried to step back, only to bump into a guard. She had never been much of a fan of horror movies, but the room could have been the set of her nightmares: metal frames with a web of padded bungee cords, a full-size bed with padded handcuffs attached to high posts, and a high bar with more padded cuffs dangling greeted her.
"No! I don't want to do this any more!"
"Again, Miss Thanh, I'm going to suggest strongly that you cooperate at this point. There's no going back, and you'll be in here much longer if you fight us."
"Which one are you going to tie me to?"
"That's Erin's choice. Erin?"
"Screw you, Blake. I'm done." Erin turned to leave, but a guard stepped between her and the door.
"No, Erin, the evening is young. Miss Thanh, would you like to choose which one Erin is tied to?"
Erin's eyes blazed. "No! No, Blake, I'll play your game tonight. Put her on the high bar."
"Miss Thanh, after the guards adjust the high bar, please cuff one of your hands." After two of the men in suits brought the bar down several inches (Erin could not help but note that the bar had been set at her particular height for some time), Kim found herself, to her horror, reaching one arm up and using the other to secure the padded wrist strap. She was surprised how comfortably it fit. "Now Erin, cuff the other." Erin was glaring at Blake as she walked over to the high bar, so she did not see Kim's hand dart out at her to squeeze her side, just below the rib. Erin squealed and jumped, and Blake roared with laughter. "Oh, Miss Thanh, you do know how to put on an audition!"
"I told you! Let me tickle her! There's no need to have me tied up here!"
"I'll show you a need!" Erin grasped Kim's wrist with both hands and violently hauled it upwards towards the cuff. She was a bit horrified at the rush it gave her when the young Vietnamese body was exposed in all of its smooth, ticklish glory in front of her. Shaking that thought off, she turned to Blake. "What do I have to do now, Blake?"
"You don't have to do anything. Still your choice. But I'm going to see at least an hour of girl-on-girl tickling this fine evening. If you keep Miss Thanh laughing, you won't feel her fingers again. But if you bore me here, it'll be you in the device!"
Erin glared once more, then turned to her work. Thanh Kim was not a rail-thin girl, but stretched out on the high bar, her hips and rib cage were highlighted, and Erin knew what some work on those nerves could do to a girl. But first she wanted to make sure she didn't get kicked, so she attached ankle cuffs to the Vietnamese girl, tightening them so that her feet could not get above her knees. Then she knew she had to get the Vietnamese girl laughing. Starting just inches below each elbow, Erin started to trace lines down into Kim's armpits. Kim began to squirm, her face contorting as she tried not to smile. Three fingers on each of Erin's hands started to swipe down the underarm skin in turn, drumming an unheard slow-march beat over and over and over. Erin felt a familiar sensation as she sensed the body in front of her giving in, and to her horror, she started to enjoy what was going on in spite of her own anger. When the first frustrated moan escaped from Kim's lips, Erin closed her eyes for a moment as she sped up the finger-drumming, and when her eyes re-opened, she locked gazes with Kim and began to drink in the fear and the waning defiance. Her fingers, now all four on each hand, kept sliding over the smooth skin under Kim's arms, and when each thumb started tracing a counter-path from the edges of her breasts into the armpit, the contest ended abruptly. Thanh Kim erupted into a rapid, girlish giggle, squealing her last bits of protest and pumping her knees as the sensations she could not block overwhelmed her. Erin's own pleasure rose steadily as she continued to work on those underarms, and Kim's silk-clad feet danced a futile shuffle on the floor as her laughter poured out of her. Erin, when she could see that Kim was starting to fatigue from the laughing, let off, her own hands dropping to her sides.
She walked around behind Kim and whispered in her ear, looking not at Kim but over her shoulder at Jackson as she did. "Not what you expected, is it? Just wait until I start on your ribs. You have no idea how ready you'll be to beg when I really get going!"
Kim tried to maintain some dignity. "You might think you're tough, but you don't know where I'm from."
"It doesn't matter, kid. It won't matter at all soon." Now standing behind her, Erin traced the bottom of Kim's bra with two fingertips, making her inhale sharply, then started to trace zig-zagging lines down to the bottom rib on each side. Using her thumbs to brace her hands, she placed two fingertips on the ridge where the last rib gave way to Kim's abdomen. "Get ready to amuse Blake, kid." And amusing Kim was: As the fingertips began to squeeze the vulnerable spots just below the ribcage, Kim's already-laughing body sprang into action, leaping and twisting but never getting away from the fingertips that Erin had placed on her. Her fingertips went from racing to gripping with a flash, and having her sides squeezed sent Kim's knees together and her heels towards the walls. Blake Jackson watched with obvious enjoyment as the two young women's bodies moved, Erin's starting to rub against Kim's as Kim's thrashed from the tickling. Before long Kim's torso started to go limp, the struggle leaving her. Slinking around her victim, Erin slowly moved to the front of her young body and began focusing her fingertips on the lovely hips, accented by the sharp lines of her black underwear. Erin traced those lines, her fingernails zipping this way and that and keeping Kim in perpetual agony. Lost in the moment, Erin did not notice Blake sneaking up behind her, but as his hand reached around her waist, his tongue on her earlobe broke her off of her pursuit.
She wheeled around, breathless. "What are you doing?"
Blake advanced, and Erin backed against a wall. His hand shot to her hip and squeezed, making her gasp. "I'm giving Miss Thanh a break and seeing whether you're getting as hot as you look. I think you are!" His hand crept towards her behind.
"No... I'm not doing this..."
"You're already doing this, Erin. Why not enjoy it?" With the hand that wasn't pulling her towards his own hips, Blake gestured towards Thanh Kim. "Strap her into the web." He turned to kiss Erin, who found herself kissing back before she pulled away.
"Please, Blake, just let me go..."
"I don't think that's what you really want, Erin! Just look at the banquet in front of you!" He gestured to the web, a cubical frame to which tight bungee cords were secured. Erin had known the web from the inside many times, but now she saw it as Blake must have seen it, with a young woman's feet and legs accessible to her on one side, and her torso ready to torture from the other. "I want to see you go after her feet, Erin!"
Thanh Kim pulled at the restraints, which moved with her only long enough to build up tension before pulling her back into position. "Please, not the feet. Let me tickle your girl! I'll do a great job!"
"No, Miss Thanh, I want to see what your feet and legs are like." He moved a hand back down to the front of Erin's skirt, drawing another sharp inhaling gasp. "And I think that Miss Watson wants to show me."
Erin pulled away from Blake and walked over to the cube. From a new perspective she could see that, the way Kim's legs were spread, she could, if she wanted, walk in and stand between her knees. All of the ticklish skin from her inner ankles all the way up to her inner thighs were there for the taking, but Erin knew that Blake really wanted to see her go after those silk-clad feet. Running her tongue over her lips before she caught herself doing so, Erin approached one of them. Kim started to pull against the bungee cords, but Erin knew how to counter that from her own experience. Grabbing the cord just above where it joined the metal ring on the padded ankle-cuff, Erin brought her own torso into sync with Kim's foot. Wherever the foot went now, Erin's center of gravity would go with it. The brown skin under the black silk, Erin couldn't deny, was a sight to see, and her own curiosity was starting to get the advantage over her resentment for Blake. Erin extended her free hand, palm up, towards Kim's sole, and when her fingertips made contact with the stocking, she began to stroke the foot, finger following finger, up the curve of heel and sole, feeling with her other hand the renewed tension on the web.
Kim gasped, then started to beg: "You can't do this to me! Please! I can't take this!"
"You'll take as much as I've got to give, kid. And I'm feeling generous tonight!" Erin's wrist turned slightly, and her motion changed from upward strokes on the sole to a finger-and-thumb pinching motion across the back of the ball of Kim's foot. The quick motion, amplified by the silk, was a sweet spot that neither young woman anticipated, and Kim's begging erupted into a wordless squeal.
Bingo.
With her new toy now pulling and laughing, Erin let her body move with Kim's leg, and she worked that spot on her foot with a gusto that everyone in the room was enjoying. Kim's long black hair thrashed back and forth, shaking out of its ponytail, as her ticklish skin rendered the bright young woman incapable of words. Erin kept the crab-claw pinching motion going longer than Kim ever thought she could bear, and Kim kept feeding her tormentor with the glorious sounds of gasping and giggling and squealing every time she worked on that spot. Erin's fingers would switch from a pinch to a sidelong running motion with index and middle fingers, and Kim, feeling a new sensation on that terrible spot, would erupt, giving Erin even more of what she wanted. Erin tickled that foot with a ferocity that was no longer self-preservation, and Kim's laughter progressed from alarm to desperation, her breathing getting faster as she experienced the real terror of being made to laugh. When Erin let go of the cord supporting the ankle-cuff, she glanced at a wall, where one of Blake's video displays sometimes lit up, and realized that she had been working on that foot for seventeen minutes. She released the cord and let Kim catch her breath.
She walked from in front of her foot to between her legs. "Not so tough now, are you?"
"Please... just leave me alone..."
"We're just getting started, kid! Oh!" Erin jumped as she felt Blake's arm around her hip. To her own shock, she did not pull away as he pulled his own body close and began to kiss her neck. Her hands, however, fell limp as the moment overtook her.
"No, Erin, keep tickling. I want to enjoy you as you enjoy this!"
"No, Blake, I can't..."
A familiar hand gave Erin's hip a squeeze, and she gasped and squealed. "Remember, Erin, I know just how ticklish you get when you get hot, and honey, you are hot right now! You don't want me to switch your places at this point, do you?"
Kim saw a glimmer, perhaps her only shot at being saved from her own skin: "Yes, Mr. Jackson! Put her up here!"
Erin wheeled around on her, escaping Jackson's hands for a moment and putting her own body between Kim's ankles. "No, little girl, now you're going to find out what happens once you're this ticklish! I'm taking this show right up the middle!" Erin's hands shot out and grasped the undersides of of Kim's knees. Her quickly scrabbling fingers sent Kim's whole body into a quaking dance, and her scream did not last long before she started laughing again. And Erin didn't wait long to move from a scratching under the knees to a claw grip on the inside of each thigh, high and inside, just where Kim's black panties showed the line. And for the first time, Erin knew what this grip felt like from the other side. She knew well what the young Vietnamese girl was experiencing: her thashing hair and surging hips told her that, like Erin, she was out of her mind, most of her wanting those hands off of her body, but more and more of her wanting those hands just a little higher, enough to release the flood that was building. She touched the girl's thighs in ways that she could imagine on her own body, and she could feel her own body heating up, not in the same way that she did when Blake had her in the web, but in ways that she had imagined when she caught herself imagining. And in a strange way that would have been creepy in the abstract but in the moment irresistible, Erin knew now what Blake must have felt all those times his hands were on her thighs, waiting for the begging to start, enjoying the muscular squirming against the bonds, working the body in the web into a state that nothing prepares a girl for.
Then Erin's reflections could be no more.
Like a snake striking, Blake's hand was up under her own skirt, his other arm wrapped around her hip, his fingers stroking the flesh along her beltline. Erin's breath sucked in with all the speed that her body could muster, and when she felt Blake's tongue on her ear, she let that gigantic breath out in a rush. Her own hands flew from Kim's thighs and to the arms that now enveloped her.
"You stopped tickling, Erin!"
The lower hand kept her from forming words, and the other arched her back. The arm wrapped around her moved up, and Erin once again gasped as he squeezed through her bra. Erin was no longer calling even her own shots as she wheeled around and locked lips with the older man. Thanh Kim gasped as the building sensations suddenly ceased, and Blake Jackson locked eyes with the Vietnamese girl as his Georgia girlfriend's hips surged against his own. His own hands grasped Erin's ass and pulled her into his own hips, and Thanh Kim's eyes bulged as her body's urges met with the passionate scene just inches from her eyes.
"Unhhh!" The girl in the web strained at the cables as her body's electricity surged. Blake Jackson had not broken glances with her, and now Erin, turning slowly, regarded her with a very different, very hungry look. Thanh Kim writhed in the web, afraid and frustrated and seeking release.
Erin leaned back against Jackson and purred. "Do you remember the night with the microphone stand?" Jackson, who did not look away, began to grin. "Let's see if she can hold still long enough."
"Please, just let my hands go! I'll do anything!"
Erin leaned in closer. "Oh, you will, Miss Thanh. You will."
Jackson, who had given some instructions at a whisper to one of the guards, walked back to Erin and put his arms around her waist. Into her ear he said, loud enough for Kim to hear, "You're really enjoying being on this end of things, aren't you? Not even I expected you'd enjoy it this much." Erin turned once more and embraced her lover, mashing tongue and lips, hands up and down his back.
Kim just waited, resigned to the fact that she could do nothing to stop whatever was on its way. She let out another moan as she saw a guard carry into the room a microphone stand. As he approached she could see what awaited her at the top: that was no microphone but a chrome cylinder about ten inches long, ending in a rounded tip. "NO! You can't put that in me!"
Blake, whose gaze had finally turned from Kim to Erin, looked back at the Vietnamese girl. "No, Miss Thanh, we told you that your underwear stays on. And if you want to, you can stay right where you are and ignore the device on the microphone stand. But I have a hunch that you'd very much like to lean in just a bit." With that Jackson began to adjust the height of the stand so that the device's tip was parallel with Kim's panties and turned the device on. The metal column hummed to life, and even from two feet away Kim could feel the rapid vibrations. As he slid the stand closer, so that there was only an inch of air between Kim and the buzzing device, The air between Kim and the microphone stand was nothing short of electrifying, and Kim felt her own hips strain forward. When her crotch touched the device, she gasped with pleasure and the promise of release.
Then the world dropped out from beneath her.
Erin, who had moved quietly behind her during Jackson's monologue, once more dug her fingertips into Kim's armpits, and the suffering girl's hips involuntarily bucked. Her body, which just an instant before was tasting the beginning of a glorious climax, suddenly could not find that humming tip, and the fingers under her arms would not stop long enough to let her get her bearings. "LET GO OF ME! LET ME DO THIS!" Erin laughed in her ear and kept tickling her underarms.
Then bad went to worse: Erin's fingers began to squeeze underneath Kim's ribs, ending the verbal protest and sending Kim's voice into a desperate cackle. At the same moment, she brushed up against the cylinder, just for a moment, only to feel Blake Jackson's fingers grab her left foot's toes and pull back. As Erin's fingers continued to draw laughter from her mouth, and the occasional brush with the vibrating chrome promised her a release that remained out of reach, she knew that whatever happened to her feet next was going to send her somewhere she had never been before.
She was right.
Kim's hips twisted violently, away from the mic stand, and she let out a ticklish scream as Blake Jackson, the most experienced tickler in the room, began to work on her silk-clad sole. As that desperate breath left her, she gasped and writhed as Erin tickled her sides. Her breathing had gone silent, but her body continued to thrash as the expert and the woman who so quickly had learned her body's secrets continued to pinch and stroke and torture her ticklish skin. Jackson, who knew just how to turn silk stockings into engines of torture, continued to press the ticklish flesh, and Kim's laughter returned as she regained her breath. Erin now pressed her own body against Kim's back, and her eager fingers tickled the backs of the girl's thighs, right where they joined her bottom. Kim's tortured laughter now lapsed into silent wheezing for several seconds, and Erin and Jackson, exchanging a glance, both relented to let her breathe. Now the air between Kim's panties and the mic stand was nothing short of magnetic, and she moaned as she leaned forward into it.
Erin now began to whisper in her ear. "Now you've got a choice, Miss Thanh. Believe me when I tell you that a woman's skin becomes more ticklish than you can imagine right after a climax. If you keep this up, you'll be in more kinds of trouble than you know." With a dexterous foot she leaned the stand away from Kim's crotch, and the younger girl once more let out a moan.
"No! Just let me have that!"
Erin's toes continued to grasp the mic stand, and a devilish grin crossed her face as she looked into Jackson's eyes. "Do you really want it back?"
"YES!"
"What would you be willing to trade me?"
"Please! Just let me finish!"
"Can I have that push-up bra if I let you have the mic stand back?" Now Jackson had his turn to grin.
"No! Just let me finish!"
"The bra or nothing, Miss Thanh!"
"Yes! Just put the stand back! Just put the stand back!"
"Your choice, Miss Thanh!" Erin let the stand return to its vertical position, and Kim could scarcely even feel her bra straps releasing as she thrust herself into the vibrations. The moan that she let out told everyone in the room just how much she needed that, and her body became limp. As she panted, her eyes closed, and a smile came to her lips. But her ecstasy, or at least the rest after the ecstasy, was short-lived.
"Miss Thanh! It's time to pay for that." She recognized Erin's voice, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the brunette standing in front of her, a long stiff feather between her fingers.
"No! Just let me go! I've given you everything!" She gasped as she felt the toes on her right foot grasped and pulled backwards, stretching her other sole. "I can't take any more!"
Erin's grinning teeth looked like the fangs of a she-wolf to the young Vietnamese woman. "You've got plenty more to offer, Miss Thanh. Don't sell yourself short!" With that Jackson began on her foot, and Kim's body found reserves of energy she had not even dreamed of. Erin had been right: before the climax, she had been more ticklish than she had ever feared, but now her body was going places that she never even had the capacity to fear. Erin continued to stand before her, the face of Hell, as Jackson, Hell's fingers, touched and prodded and stroked the nerves in her foot, set afire by the sexual encounter. When Kim's eyes saw the feather descending, she had already given up, knowing that her body was at its limits.
How wrong she was.
The feather's first long stroke, across her left nipple, arched Kim's back, heightened the terrible tickling of her foot, pulled out of her a sound that she had never heard a woman make, much less a sound that she could remember herself making. Kim was no virgin--she had been with boys before college and at Tech--but whatever hit her breast when that feather made its pull was like nothing she had ever dreamed of, sweetly or in terror. "Did you like that, Miss Thanh? We have plenty more to do with this feather. We shouldn't neglect that other lovely breast, now that we've got both, do you think?" But Kim was not thinking at all: as the feather drew its course across the right breast, and as Jackson continued to torture her foot, her memory left her. In the days to come Kim would often wonder just how long, just how intensely the pair had actually tickled her after she blacked out.
When she regained her senses, she was lying on a large bed, and she knew immediately that Erin and Blake were beside her. As she gathered her clothes (she left her ruined panties and hose) to leave, she could tell that, after she had forgotten where she was, the pair had no doubt made love, enflamed by her own torment. She shuddered at the thought but kept moving quickly, eager to leave the ticklish Hell that still seemed to want more from her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the guard at the elevator stepped aside and let her enter.
Riding with the guard to the parking garage, Thanh Kim knew that she should have hose under her short skirt, but escape was more important than fashion, and when the elevator opened into the parking garage, she moved as quickly as her body would let her towards her car and climbed in. On the passenger seat there were two envelopes. In one, Kim quickly realized, was a stack of twenty-dollar bills. A quick count told her it was several hundred dollars, maybe a thousand. In the other, a hand-written note read, "You're too young to gamble legally, but there are other ways to make some good money here. Give me a call if you're interested in visiting Erin and me again."
To her own terror, Thanh Kim did not destroy that note.
