Hi folks,
I've found this story somewhere on the internet, since I liked it quite much , I think it's a nice idea sharing it with you people. I hope you like this found.
Many greetings,
Elena
Ticklish Little Spy
The gentleman at the bar had been very pleasant, and she normally didn’t do this sort of thing, but she had seen him there before. He was really charming and handsome, and seemed like a genuinely nice guy…and now they were in Jack’s house for a “nightcap”.. Anne is feeling a little woozy and comments on her drink being a little strong. “What is in this thing?” she laughs. “Just a mild sedative. It will just help you relax’” he replies calmly. She is startled, but it’s too late. She stumbles to a chair and passes out. She awakens to find herself completely strapped onto a table of some sort, dressed in only her underwear. She struggles a bit, looking over her bonds and realizes she can’t move at all. “Ah, she is back with from dreamland! Are you comfortable?” he asks as he approaches. “You let me out of this thing right now! You have no idea who you’re dealing with here – I work for –“ “You work as the American liaison and spy for the terrorist group Al Hassid, and have been planning a bomb strike against the CIA director. I’m here because I need to know where your group’s headquarters is. Once I have that information, I can let you go.” “There’s no way in hell I’ll ever give you that information! That’s a serious breach of security. The information dies with me!” “No, no, no, my dear. There will be no dying here. No need for any brutal type of torture – but I do have a favorite method of extracting information from pretty young agents. You can save yourself a lot of discomfort if you just tell me what I need to know.” “Fuck you!” she sneers. “We’re highly trained to resist torture of any kind. You won’t be getting anything from me, I guarantee you!” “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he says as he approaches the foot of the table. “I can be very persuasive! We have an intelligence report on you – I understand you have very ticklish feet.” She doesn’t reply, but a look of fear flashes in her eyes, and quickly disappears. “Let’s see just how ticklish these pretty feet are, shall we?’ as he begins running his fingers up and down her helpless soles. She grits her teeth heroically, but within a few seconds, she can no longer hold back. Her laughter fills the room as her interrogator continues his assault with glee. After a few minutes, he stops and lets her catch her breath. “That was just the beginning. I could do this all day, if you’d like, but I think you’d like to end this. So: where is the headquarters?” he asks again. “None of your fucking business! You’ll NEVER get it out of me! I can AH-HAHA…” as Jack once again tickles her soles, with a little more energy, having been challenged by this brash young agent. He’d show her! Again he stops and she gasps for breath. “I’m going to ask you one last time: where is your headquarters?” he demands as he stands next to her. “Never…” she pants, “I’ll never…tell you…no way…” “You’re one tough agent, alright,” he says admiringly, “But not tough enough!” He climbs onto the table and sits astride hips. “You’d better tell me now!” She is silent, setting her jaw defiantly. Jack suddenly attacks her ribcage, violently wiggling his fingers, causing her to explode with laughter and pitifully try to wriggle away from his fingertips. She can barely move her midsection, and is forced to endure an intense rib-tickling. “NO-HOHOHOHO-STO-HOHOHOP! HAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA…” Jack pauses, holding his fingers a few inches above her tummy. “Well?” She is still giggling and responds by shaking her head from side to side. Jack immediately brings his hands back down to her ribs, then her tummy as her laughter is re-ignited. After another few minutes, he stops again. “You can’t go on like this, you know. Make it easy on yourself: tell me what I need to know and we can end this.” “No, I’d rather DIE than help you!” she seethes at him through clenched teeth. “OK, have it your way!” he cries as he now concentrates on her soft, defenseless armpits. He uses a light but fast finger-tickle that make her upper body surge upward. Her laughter is nonstop as he runs his torturing digits from her armpits to the sides of her breasts to her neck and back again. Finally, he stops once again and states, “I’m running out of time here. I need to know NOW!” Her body is shaking with laughter still and she cannot speak. She gasps for breath, then finally shakes her head again and declares “I’ll NEVER talk. You can torture me all you want, but I’ll never talk! Do your worst!” she challenges him. He is still straddling her as he pulls out his cellphone and punches in a 3-digit code. “It’s Jack. I’m getting nowhere here. Better send The Marquis.” Upon hearing the name, she tenses visibly and begins to struggle with renewed vigor, but the straps hold her firmly. She has heard of this Marquis. He tests for your weaknesses, then exploits them like no other. She almost gives up the information right then, but resolves to stay strong. Within minutes, a tall figure in a hat and trenchcoat, and carrying a small attaché case, approaches the door and knocks. The door swings open and Jack says “Ah, good. Now we can get on with this.” Standing in front of the victim, the Marquis removes the sunglasses, hat and trenchcoat…and Anne sees that this interrogation expert is a woman. “So, Jack, you could not extract the information from this one. I don’t think it will be so hard. Let’s see…where do we begin?” she smiles, looking directly into Anne’s eyes as she approaches her feet. She places her bright red fingernails at the base of her heels and begins scratching, gradually moving her hands up the sole. Anne is biting her lip but, as the nails ascend to the fleshy center of her arches, she begins a deep giggle. She is trying to keep it in check, but her body betrays her. Her body tries to twist away, and her laughter becomes louder as the fingernails scratch the center of her lovely, high arches. She is beginning to have trouble catching her breath as the ascent up her soles continues. Now the nails are approaching the balls of her feet and she is laughing in earnest. Her head, the only unrestrained part of her body, begins to swing back and forth, sending her hair across each side of her face, become a tousled mess. The Marquis continues her probe with her fingernails, scratching her soles and advancing upwards. The balls of Anne’s feet make her scream with laughter, and she turns to Jack and says, “Watch this.” She turns her hands over and begins to scratch downward on the top half of the balls of the feet. Anne begins to plead “No, ple-ee-eeeeeeease! NOO-O! NO MO-OOORE!” as the fingernails then go right into the crease between base of her toes and the balls of her feet. Suddenly Anne arches her back as much as she can against her restraints and lets out a pitiable cry of laughter. The Marquis continues at this spot for a minute, then stops abruptly. Anne is panting heavily, still laughing, and is in considerably worse shape than she had been with Jack. The Marquis opens her briefcase and tells Jack “This won’t take long. Her weak spot is very typical, and very easily exploited. She will be begging to tell me everything she knows.” Jack smiles deviously as she pulls out a nailfile. “You see, Jack, that area just below the base of the toes is always very protected. It never makes contact with the ground or the inside of your shoes; it’s always warm and moist and extremely soft. A perfect piece of flesh for tickling.” She has carefully and deliberately begun filing each of her fingernails just along the sides, so as to create more of a point at the tip. She has turned to face Anne while doing this, and Anne shudders at the thought of what those finely honed instruments of torture would do to her helpless feet. She pulls against her bonds. “Anne, dear, you can save all of us a lot of time and effort here with a few well-chosen words – such as the location of that secret headquarters. If not, then I’m afraid I will have to tickle you half to death before I give you another chance to respond. I don’t have a lot of time, you see. I’m very busy and very much in demand. You can see why, of course.” Anne’s resolve is shaken, but still solid. “No, I’ll never talk no matter how devious your tickling! That is top secret information, not meant for your ears – EVER!” “We’ll see, dear,” she responds calmly and coldly. “Now let’s have a lot at those toes again, shall we?” She takes her left hand and, holding back the toes on Anne’s right foot, begins vigorously scratching at the base of her toes again. Anne convulses into helpless laughter again. She now runs her fingernails sideways across that sensitive space with lightning speed and Anne’s laughter hit an even higher pitch. “Oh, Jack, this one is so-o-o-o ticklish. It’s just delicious!” “I love a woman who enjoys her work. Need a hand?” asks Jack. “Sure. Choose something form my bag of tricks. Anything you like.” Jack pulls out a small handheld cleaning brush. “Oh, ni-ice!” he exclaims. He now takes Anne’s left toes and pulls them back, then runs the brush sideways across the ball of her foot. Anne’s laughter, already hysterical, is now becoming almost silent as she struggles to breathe in air. The Marquis motions Jack to stop. She places her fingers along the base of Anne’s toes on both feet, and leaves them there. When Anne has caught her breath again, she asks her “I think you want to tell us now. I can make this much worse still, you know.” “No…I can’t…oh, please no more!…I really can’t…I –NO-OOO! DON’T MOVE THEM!” she screams as the Marquis wiggles her fingers slightly on each foot. “I can keep them still…but for how long, dear? They’re just aching to tickle that secret out of you! So tell me, you ticklish, ticklish little girl…where is that headquarters?” and with that she wiggles her pointed nail, embedded into the base of her toes. Anne screams in laughter again and begs “NO PLEA-EEEEAS! DON”T MO-HOO-HOOVE THEM! OHGOD NO-HOHO!” “Don’t even breathe, Anne. If you move at all, my nails just embed themselves further into that sensitive flesh…LIKE THIS!” as she sends Anne into hysterics again. “Ready to talk now? Hmmm?” she asks. Anne doesn’t respond. Her nails remain poised perfectly still at the base of her toes. “Tickle tickle tickle!” _______ teases as she continues the devious toe-tickle. “Jack, talk to her, will you?” she winks at him. Jack goes to the head of the torture table and leans over, whispering in her ear. “We’re gonna tickle tickle tickle this out of you now! You can’t hold out much longer, can you? Hmmm?” as he begins running his fingers up and down her armpits in long, steady strokes. Anne’s laughter is almost maniacal now, and her body quivers and spasms. The Marquis has now taken the little brush and, pulling her toes back, begins to scrub away Anne’s layers of resistance. Anne has completely fallen apart, able to do nothing but laugh torturously and fight to catch her breath in-between bouts of hysterics. Once again, a signal to stop is given and Anne, a helpless mass of giggles, is left for a minute to compose herself. She is babbling incoherently and her head is still tossing from side to side. Finally, she speaks. “Yes…yes…please no more….I’ll tell you….oh, God….please no more…” “Alright,” the Marquis says soothingly. “We’ll stop tickling you – but you must tell us NOW! Your choice: you tell us, or we tickle you even worse, if you can even imagine that. I have lots of toys in my bag you haven’t seen yet. And some of them are powered.” Anne’s head is vigorously shaking from side to side. “No, no…I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Please don’t tickle me any more! PLEASE!!!” Anne then gives details to the terrorist headquarters and leaves herself at their mercy. She has no more bargaining power and she is deathly afraid. She continues to plead with them to stop tickling. Neither of them makes a move to unstrap her or even loosen the bonds. “We have to confirm the information, of course, but we’ll stop…for now,” she says evilly. “Jack, my work here is done. I have to get over to the First Precinct. It seems this woman is protecting the identity of an accomplice. I’m going in an unofficial capacity, of course, but I hear she has size 10 feet. Perfect for my whiskbroom torture…Now, keep an eye on her and, if she’s any trouble…well, you know her T-spot. It’s an awesome power to have over someone, isn’t it?” she smiles at Jack. Jack grins in return. “I’ll try not to abuse that power.” The Marquis dresses to leave and Jack opens the door for her. As she approaches the stairs, she hears Anne’s hysterical laughter begin again. She looks back toward the door, smiles approvingly, and descends the stairs.
I've found this story somewhere on the internet, since I liked it quite much , I think it's a nice idea sharing it with you people. I hope you like this found.
Many greetings,
Elena
Ticklish Little Spy
The gentleman at the bar had been very pleasant, and she normally didn’t do this sort of thing, but she had seen him there before. He was really charming and handsome, and seemed like a genuinely nice guy…and now they were in Jack’s house for a “nightcap”.. Anne is feeling a little woozy and comments on her drink being a little strong. “What is in this thing?” she laughs. “Just a mild sedative. It will just help you relax’” he replies calmly. She is startled, but it’s too late. She stumbles to a chair and passes out. She awakens to find herself completely strapped onto a table of some sort, dressed in only her underwear. She struggles a bit, looking over her bonds and realizes she can’t move at all. “Ah, she is back with from dreamland! Are you comfortable?” he asks as he approaches. “You let me out of this thing right now! You have no idea who you’re dealing with here – I work for –“ “You work as the American liaison and spy for the terrorist group Al Hassid, and have been planning a bomb strike against the CIA director. I’m here because I need to know where your group’s headquarters is. Once I have that information, I can let you go.” “There’s no way in hell I’ll ever give you that information! That’s a serious breach of security. The information dies with me!” “No, no, no, my dear. There will be no dying here. No need for any brutal type of torture – but I do have a favorite method of extracting information from pretty young agents. You can save yourself a lot of discomfort if you just tell me what I need to know.” “Fuck you!” she sneers. “We’re highly trained to resist torture of any kind. You won’t be getting anything from me, I guarantee you!” “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he says as he approaches the foot of the table. “I can be very persuasive! We have an intelligence report on you – I understand you have very ticklish feet.” She doesn’t reply, but a look of fear flashes in her eyes, and quickly disappears. “Let’s see just how ticklish these pretty feet are, shall we?’ as he begins running his fingers up and down her helpless soles. She grits her teeth heroically, but within a few seconds, she can no longer hold back. Her laughter fills the room as her interrogator continues his assault with glee. After a few minutes, he stops and lets her catch her breath. “That was just the beginning. I could do this all day, if you’d like, but I think you’d like to end this. So: where is the headquarters?” he asks again. “None of your fucking business! You’ll NEVER get it out of me! I can AH-HAHA…” as Jack once again tickles her soles, with a little more energy, having been challenged by this brash young agent. He’d show her! Again he stops and she gasps for breath. “I’m going to ask you one last time: where is your headquarters?” he demands as he stands next to her. “Never…” she pants, “I’ll never…tell you…no way…” “You’re one tough agent, alright,” he says admiringly, “But not tough enough!” He climbs onto the table and sits astride hips. “You’d better tell me now!” She is silent, setting her jaw defiantly. Jack suddenly attacks her ribcage, violently wiggling his fingers, causing her to explode with laughter and pitifully try to wriggle away from his fingertips. She can barely move her midsection, and is forced to endure an intense rib-tickling. “NO-HOHOHOHO-STO-HOHOHOP! HAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHA…” Jack pauses, holding his fingers a few inches above her tummy. “Well?” She is still giggling and responds by shaking her head from side to side. Jack immediately brings his hands back down to her ribs, then her tummy as her laughter is re-ignited. After another few minutes, he stops again. “You can’t go on like this, you know. Make it easy on yourself: tell me what I need to know and we can end this.” “No, I’d rather DIE than help you!” she seethes at him through clenched teeth. “OK, have it your way!” he cries as he now concentrates on her soft, defenseless armpits. He uses a light but fast finger-tickle that make her upper body surge upward. Her laughter is nonstop as he runs his torturing digits from her armpits to the sides of her breasts to her neck and back again. Finally, he stops once again and states, “I’m running out of time here. I need to know NOW!” Her body is shaking with laughter still and she cannot speak. She gasps for breath, then finally shakes her head again and declares “I’ll NEVER talk. You can torture me all you want, but I’ll never talk! Do your worst!” she challenges him. He is still straddling her as he pulls out his cellphone and punches in a 3-digit code. “It’s Jack. I’m getting nowhere here. Better send The Marquis.” Upon hearing the name, she tenses visibly and begins to struggle with renewed vigor, but the straps hold her firmly. She has heard of this Marquis. He tests for your weaknesses, then exploits them like no other. She almost gives up the information right then, but resolves to stay strong. Within minutes, a tall figure in a hat and trenchcoat, and carrying a small attaché case, approaches the door and knocks. The door swings open and Jack says “Ah, good. Now we can get on with this.” Standing in front of the victim, the Marquis removes the sunglasses, hat and trenchcoat…and Anne sees that this interrogation expert is a woman. “So, Jack, you could not extract the information from this one. I don’t think it will be so hard. Let’s see…where do we begin?” she smiles, looking directly into Anne’s eyes as she approaches her feet. She places her bright red fingernails at the base of her heels and begins scratching, gradually moving her hands up the sole. Anne is biting her lip but, as the nails ascend to the fleshy center of her arches, she begins a deep giggle. She is trying to keep it in check, but her body betrays her. Her body tries to twist away, and her laughter becomes louder as the fingernails scratch the center of her lovely, high arches. She is beginning to have trouble catching her breath as the ascent up her soles continues. Now the nails are approaching the balls of her feet and she is laughing in earnest. Her head, the only unrestrained part of her body, begins to swing back and forth, sending her hair across each side of her face, become a tousled mess. The Marquis continues her probe with her fingernails, scratching her soles and advancing upwards. The balls of Anne’s feet make her scream with laughter, and she turns to Jack and says, “Watch this.” She turns her hands over and begins to scratch downward on the top half of the balls of the feet. Anne begins to plead “No, ple-ee-eeeeeeease! NOO-O! NO MO-OOORE!” as the fingernails then go right into the crease between base of her toes and the balls of her feet. Suddenly Anne arches her back as much as she can against her restraints and lets out a pitiable cry of laughter. The Marquis continues at this spot for a minute, then stops abruptly. Anne is panting heavily, still laughing, and is in considerably worse shape than she had been with Jack. The Marquis opens her briefcase and tells Jack “This won’t take long. Her weak spot is very typical, and very easily exploited. She will be begging to tell me everything she knows.” Jack smiles deviously as she pulls out a nailfile. “You see, Jack, that area just below the base of the toes is always very protected. It never makes contact with the ground or the inside of your shoes; it’s always warm and moist and extremely soft. A perfect piece of flesh for tickling.” She has carefully and deliberately begun filing each of her fingernails just along the sides, so as to create more of a point at the tip. She has turned to face Anne while doing this, and Anne shudders at the thought of what those finely honed instruments of torture would do to her helpless feet. She pulls against her bonds. “Anne, dear, you can save all of us a lot of time and effort here with a few well-chosen words – such as the location of that secret headquarters. If not, then I’m afraid I will have to tickle you half to death before I give you another chance to respond. I don’t have a lot of time, you see. I’m very busy and very much in demand. You can see why, of course.” Anne’s resolve is shaken, but still solid. “No, I’ll never talk no matter how devious your tickling! That is top secret information, not meant for your ears – EVER!” “We’ll see, dear,” she responds calmly and coldly. “Now let’s have a lot at those toes again, shall we?” She takes her left hand and, holding back the toes on Anne’s right foot, begins vigorously scratching at the base of her toes again. Anne convulses into helpless laughter again. She now runs her fingernails sideways across that sensitive space with lightning speed and Anne’s laughter hit an even higher pitch. “Oh, Jack, this one is so-o-o-o ticklish. It’s just delicious!” “I love a woman who enjoys her work. Need a hand?” asks Jack. “Sure. Choose something form my bag of tricks. Anything you like.” Jack pulls out a small handheld cleaning brush. “Oh, ni-ice!” he exclaims. He now takes Anne’s left toes and pulls them back, then runs the brush sideways across the ball of her foot. Anne’s laughter, already hysterical, is now becoming almost silent as she struggles to breathe in air. The Marquis motions Jack to stop. She places her fingers along the base of Anne’s toes on both feet, and leaves them there. When Anne has caught her breath again, she asks her “I think you want to tell us now. I can make this much worse still, you know.” “No…I can’t…oh, please no more!…I really can’t…I –NO-OOO! DON’T MOVE THEM!” she screams as the Marquis wiggles her fingers slightly on each foot. “I can keep them still…but for how long, dear? They’re just aching to tickle that secret out of you! So tell me, you ticklish, ticklish little girl…where is that headquarters?” and with that she wiggles her pointed nail, embedded into the base of her toes. Anne screams in laughter again and begs “NO PLEA-EEEEAS! DON”T MO-HOO-HOOVE THEM! OHGOD NO-HOHO!” “Don’t even breathe, Anne. If you move at all, my nails just embed themselves further into that sensitive flesh…LIKE THIS!” as she sends Anne into hysterics again. “Ready to talk now? Hmmm?” she asks. Anne doesn’t respond. Her nails remain poised perfectly still at the base of her toes. “Tickle tickle tickle!” _______ teases as she continues the devious toe-tickle. “Jack, talk to her, will you?” she winks at him. Jack goes to the head of the torture table and leans over, whispering in her ear. “We’re gonna tickle tickle tickle this out of you now! You can’t hold out much longer, can you? Hmmm?” as he begins running his fingers up and down her armpits in long, steady strokes. Anne’s laughter is almost maniacal now, and her body quivers and spasms. The Marquis has now taken the little brush and, pulling her toes back, begins to scrub away Anne’s layers of resistance. Anne has completely fallen apart, able to do nothing but laugh torturously and fight to catch her breath in-between bouts of hysterics. Once again, a signal to stop is given and Anne, a helpless mass of giggles, is left for a minute to compose herself. She is babbling incoherently and her head is still tossing from side to side. Finally, she speaks. “Yes…yes…please no more….I’ll tell you….oh, God….please no more…” “Alright,” the Marquis says soothingly. “We’ll stop tickling you – but you must tell us NOW! Your choice: you tell us, or we tickle you even worse, if you can even imagine that. I have lots of toys in my bag you haven’t seen yet. And some of them are powered.” Anne’s head is vigorously shaking from side to side. “No, no…I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Please don’t tickle me any more! PLEASE!!!” Anne then gives details to the terrorist headquarters and leaves herself at their mercy. She has no more bargaining power and she is deathly afraid. She continues to plead with them to stop tickling. Neither of them makes a move to unstrap her or even loosen the bonds. “We have to confirm the information, of course, but we’ll stop…for now,” she says evilly. “Jack, my work here is done. I have to get over to the First Precinct. It seems this woman is protecting the identity of an accomplice. I’m going in an unofficial capacity, of course, but I hear she has size 10 feet. Perfect for my whiskbroom torture…Now, keep an eye on her and, if she’s any trouble…well, you know her T-spot. It’s an awesome power to have over someone, isn’t it?” she smiles at Jack. Jack grins in return. “I’ll try not to abuse that power.” The Marquis dresses to leave and Jack opens the door for her. As she approaches the stairs, she hears Anne’s hysterical laughter begin again. She looks back toward the door, smiles approvingly, and descends the stairs.
