Thatperson
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Brenda woke up, groggy, and tied to a table. She was in a skimpy bikini she didn't recognize. It barely covered her. The room was fairly dark.She didn't know why she was in the place she was. It looked like a prison.
She was tied down so there was no chance of movement. Even her head movement was restricted, and she craned her head the best she could to look around the room. In the dim light, she could make out shelves lining one wall, full of all kinds of tools: feathers in all different kinds, oils, vibrators, brushes, blindfolds, extra restraints and rope, pens, paintbrushes, and razors for shaving. She shivered, wondering why they were there.
She had just been walking down the street on her way to the bus top when she had felt sleepy. Now she was here, and she was confused.
She then heard a key being inserted into a door. She heard high heels clicking, and then the door being shut again. She started to speak.
"Please, who are you? I'm lost. I just woke up and I don't know where I am-"
She was promptly slapped by the lady. Hard. Then the woman spoke too, as Brenda shook with fear.
"Shut up. You will not be allowed to speak, unless I give you permission. You are to address me as 'Linda'. Or 'Ms. Linda'. You'll be punished for speaking out, but that will be later, after I've familiarized myself with your body a bit. You may speak now."
Brenda gulped, then softly spoke, "Ms. Linda, pl-please don't hu-hurt me."
Linda smiled. "I won't hurt you. Not at all. You are going to be my playtoy."
Playtoy, Brenda thought, what does she mean by that?
"Now, preliminaries over, let's start. You may laugh as much as you need, but no speaking. That rule applies to both of us, so you can completely focus." And with that Linda began to lightly tickle her stomach. There was no reaction from Brenda.
Brenda laughed to herself. She wasn't even ticklish! Friends had tried to tickle her feet and stomach, but it never worked. She smirked at Linda, as she looked confused.
"Not tummy ticklish eh? Well, let's try another place." She dug her fingers and vibrated them in between her ribs. Brenda only giggled slightly. Linda cursed under her breath. Her plan was failing.
She ran her long fingernails down Brenda's soles, but was rewarded with only a chuckle. Frustrated, Linda blew up her bangs.
"Well, there's one more spot I haven't tried.." She placed her fingers lightly on Brenda's wide open armpits, barely touching them. Brenda sucked in her breath. She couldn't be ticklish here, could she?
Linda, seeing Brenda's reaction, smirked, and slowly began teasing the very centers of her armpits. Brenda began to giggle. She could feel each finger tracing its path across the sensitive flesh. She couldn't believe she was ticklish there!
Linda continued the teasing, stroking a single finger now up and down her pits. This drove Brenda up the wall as her giggles were nonstop now. Then, without warning, Linda used her fingernails and scraped the helpless pits.
Brenda let out a huge scream and squirmed in her bonds, trying to break the ropes that held her arms up, but she couldn't, so she was left to face the torturous feelings wrecking her nerves. Her pits were soft and clean shaven which seemed to heighten the tickling effect of Linda's nails.
She stopped the tickling, and resumed the stroking, pleased to have found the ticklish place on Brenda's body. She drew circles, tracing the outer edge of her armpits. Then the placed ten fingers on one pit and stroked it long and soft.
The teasing was driving Brenda nearly insane as she felt the fingers tormenting her tender skin. She had been hoping this was a bad dream, but this changed everything. She tried to draw her mind away from the tickling, but she then felt kisses in one pit and fingers in another, which broke her concentration and brought her senses back to the torture.
The tickling stopped, which just left the constant stream of kisses being placed on her right pit. Her breath stopped. Linda's lips tickled more than the fingers did and it was stealing her breath. Her lips were extremely soft and this added to the torture.
She then kissed her left pit, adding nibbles to set her off cackling again. Her pits were naturally soft and virgin, making them even more sensitive, which didn't help the sensations bombarding her nervous system.
The kisses stopped, and the nails were back, scribbling and dancing on the ticklish surface of her wide open underarms. Linda smiled to herself as Brenda screamed in laughter once again, writhing and pulling at her bonds. This was cruel and there was nothing to be done to stop it.
L inda let Brenda rest as she went to the shelves on the wall to retrieve somethings. Brenda craned her head, trying to see what Linda was getting, but a big dig in her pits flopped her back on the table.
She felt something being slid over her face, and she couldn't see. Now being blindfolded, she could tell which took Linda would use next. She heard some noises as she gathered her tools of choice. Then silence.
Brenda giggled loudly again at the gossamer touch of a feather in the center of one pit, barely touching the taught skin. The feather then danced all over, probing the deep recesses and the pirouetting to the outer edges. The feather moved across both pits, in a random order so Brenda couldn't get used to any pattern.
The feathers were removed and reversed, this time using the quill side to rake at the drum tight skin. Brenda cackled and screamed as the quills were everywhere, marking her armpits and raking the tender pit skin, sending Brenda into a state of insanity.
The quills stopped. Brenda strained her ears, trying to hear something, anything. She heard the cap of something being opened, then felt Linda's hands massaging a slippery liquid onto her pits. Oil, she thought wearily.
Then, the felt the bristles of toothbrushes raking both of her tender, oiled hollows and she screamed in laughter, rocking the table. The brushes were everywhere, and the oil seemed to enhance the tickling even more. Brenda's laughter was off the scale as the brushes methodically scribbled around on her hypersensitive pits, wrecking havoc with her senses.
Finally Linda stopped again. Brenda had a longer break as she heard Linda gathering more tools. She smelled something- paint? She wasn't sure.
Silence again. Then she felt a cold glob of something on her pits. She was right. It was paint. Linda had picked a fine artists' brush and was painting a masterpiece on an easel- her armpits. Brenda laughed and laughed as Linda continued painting on her pits. It took a good 10 minutes for Linda to cease the painting, and Brenda greedily took in air. She heard Linda leave for a couple minutes.
When she returned, she felt something else on her pits, and she screamed again- a wet scrub brush. She slammed her head as much as she could, trying to distract herself from the brush but it was no use. The brush dove onto every single inch of her painted pits, washing away every drop of paint. Even after the paint was gone, Linda just hummed and continued scrubbing away at Brenda's armpits.
Linda stopped again. Then she spoke.
"Now I know where you ticklish spot is. I will get to know it very well over these next days. They will be mine. That was a very productive hour. I'll let you rest, and we'll begin hour two."
She was tied down so there was no chance of movement. Even her head movement was restricted, and she craned her head the best she could to look around the room. In the dim light, she could make out shelves lining one wall, full of all kinds of tools: feathers in all different kinds, oils, vibrators, brushes, blindfolds, extra restraints and rope, pens, paintbrushes, and razors for shaving. She shivered, wondering why they were there.
She had just been walking down the street on her way to the bus top when she had felt sleepy. Now she was here, and she was confused.
She then heard a key being inserted into a door. She heard high heels clicking, and then the door being shut again. She started to speak.
"Please, who are you? I'm lost. I just woke up and I don't know where I am-"
She was promptly slapped by the lady. Hard. Then the woman spoke too, as Brenda shook with fear.
"Shut up. You will not be allowed to speak, unless I give you permission. You are to address me as 'Linda'. Or 'Ms. Linda'. You'll be punished for speaking out, but that will be later, after I've familiarized myself with your body a bit. You may speak now."
Brenda gulped, then softly spoke, "Ms. Linda, pl-please don't hu-hurt me."
Linda smiled. "I won't hurt you. Not at all. You are going to be my playtoy."
Playtoy, Brenda thought, what does she mean by that?
"Now, preliminaries over, let's start. You may laugh as much as you need, but no speaking. That rule applies to both of us, so you can completely focus." And with that Linda began to lightly tickle her stomach. There was no reaction from Brenda.
Brenda laughed to herself. She wasn't even ticklish! Friends had tried to tickle her feet and stomach, but it never worked. She smirked at Linda, as she looked confused.
"Not tummy ticklish eh? Well, let's try another place." She dug her fingers and vibrated them in between her ribs. Brenda only giggled slightly. Linda cursed under her breath. Her plan was failing.
She ran her long fingernails down Brenda's soles, but was rewarded with only a chuckle. Frustrated, Linda blew up her bangs.
"Well, there's one more spot I haven't tried.." She placed her fingers lightly on Brenda's wide open armpits, barely touching them. Brenda sucked in her breath. She couldn't be ticklish here, could she?
Linda, seeing Brenda's reaction, smirked, and slowly began teasing the very centers of her armpits. Brenda began to giggle. She could feel each finger tracing its path across the sensitive flesh. She couldn't believe she was ticklish there!
Linda continued the teasing, stroking a single finger now up and down her pits. This drove Brenda up the wall as her giggles were nonstop now. Then, without warning, Linda used her fingernails and scraped the helpless pits.
Brenda let out a huge scream and squirmed in her bonds, trying to break the ropes that held her arms up, but she couldn't, so she was left to face the torturous feelings wrecking her nerves. Her pits were soft and clean shaven which seemed to heighten the tickling effect of Linda's nails.
She stopped the tickling, and resumed the stroking, pleased to have found the ticklish place on Brenda's body. She drew circles, tracing the outer edge of her armpits. Then the placed ten fingers on one pit and stroked it long and soft.
The teasing was driving Brenda nearly insane as she felt the fingers tormenting her tender skin. She had been hoping this was a bad dream, but this changed everything. She tried to draw her mind away from the tickling, but she then felt kisses in one pit and fingers in another, which broke her concentration and brought her senses back to the torture.
The tickling stopped, which just left the constant stream of kisses being placed on her right pit. Her breath stopped. Linda's lips tickled more than the fingers did and it was stealing her breath. Her lips were extremely soft and this added to the torture.
She then kissed her left pit, adding nibbles to set her off cackling again. Her pits were naturally soft and virgin, making them even more sensitive, which didn't help the sensations bombarding her nervous system.
The kisses stopped, and the nails were back, scribbling and dancing on the ticklish surface of her wide open underarms. Linda smiled to herself as Brenda screamed in laughter once again, writhing and pulling at her bonds. This was cruel and there was nothing to be done to stop it.
L inda let Brenda rest as she went to the shelves on the wall to retrieve somethings. Brenda craned her head, trying to see what Linda was getting, but a big dig in her pits flopped her back on the table.
She felt something being slid over her face, and she couldn't see. Now being blindfolded, she could tell which took Linda would use next. She heard some noises as she gathered her tools of choice. Then silence.
Brenda giggled loudly again at the gossamer touch of a feather in the center of one pit, barely touching the taught skin. The feather then danced all over, probing the deep recesses and the pirouetting to the outer edges. The feather moved across both pits, in a random order so Brenda couldn't get used to any pattern.
The feathers were removed and reversed, this time using the quill side to rake at the drum tight skin. Brenda cackled and screamed as the quills were everywhere, marking her armpits and raking the tender pit skin, sending Brenda into a state of insanity.
The quills stopped. Brenda strained her ears, trying to hear something, anything. She heard the cap of something being opened, then felt Linda's hands massaging a slippery liquid onto her pits. Oil, she thought wearily.
Then, the felt the bristles of toothbrushes raking both of her tender, oiled hollows and she screamed in laughter, rocking the table. The brushes were everywhere, and the oil seemed to enhance the tickling even more. Brenda's laughter was off the scale as the brushes methodically scribbled around on her hypersensitive pits, wrecking havoc with her senses.
Finally Linda stopped again. Brenda had a longer break as she heard Linda gathering more tools. She smelled something- paint? She wasn't sure.
Silence again. Then she felt a cold glob of something on her pits. She was right. It was paint. Linda had picked a fine artists' brush and was painting a masterpiece on an easel- her armpits. Brenda laughed and laughed as Linda continued painting on her pits. It took a good 10 minutes for Linda to cease the painting, and Brenda greedily took in air. She heard Linda leave for a couple minutes.
When she returned, she felt something else on her pits, and she screamed again- a wet scrub brush. She slammed her head as much as she could, trying to distract herself from the brush but it was no use. The brush dove onto every single inch of her painted pits, washing away every drop of paint. Even after the paint was gone, Linda just hummed and continued scrubbing away at Brenda's armpits.
Linda stopped again. Then she spoke.
"Now I know where you ticklish spot is. I will get to know it very well over these next days. They will be mine. That was a very productive hour. I'll let you rest, and we'll begin hour two."
