T
Tidas
Guest
Hey guys, I know it's been a while since I've posted. Life has been crazy for Aela and I, but we're doing well and we've got more vids on the way! In the meantime, I whipped up a little something in the spirit of Halloween fun, and I hope y'all enjoy. All characters over 18, and all that jazz. Love to hear your comments below!
---Tidas
It had been hard for Sarah since Jim had died. The life insurance had helped out with the bills, and had taken care of the funeral, but it was the emotional toll that really sapped her energy. She was 36, and a widow. All alone, without even a dog to keep her company. She had considered getting one, but that was something she had talked about doing with Jim, and the very thought of it made her choke up and the tears well in her eyes. She was still quite beautiful, with thick, dark, brown hair and soft blue eyes, but it didn’t bring her any comfort when men noticed her. Sarah was too consumed by grief and loneliness to care.
The wind blew crisp and cool, shaking the bright orange and red leaves from the old trees in Sarah’s front yard. They swirled through the air, floating whimsically, before landing in a carpet of their fellows that blanketed the widow’s yard. The house that Sarah lived in was an old Victorian, painted light blue and standing vigil over the cul-de-sac in which it was tucked away. Her neighbors on either side hadn’t been able to keep up with their mortgages, and the bank had foreclosed on them in the housing crisis a few years back. The lack of friendly faces on either side of her had been both comfort and torment to Sarah. She didn’t want people intruding on her misery, but she also wished that someone was there to tell her it would be alright.
This evening found Sarah on her couch in the den, wearing black yoga pants, a gray, ribbed tank top, and charcoal wrap sweater that tied at the waist. Dark grey slippers enveloped her socked feet, and an afghan was draped lazily over her. She was watching something mindless on television, trying to get her mind to go anywhere but her pain for a while, when her eyelids became heavy. Sarah had not been sleeping well, so she welcomed the creeping feeling of sleep that overcame her body. She slumped into the pillows on the couch, curled up into a ball and fell fast asleep.
The clamor of the doorbell awoke Sarah with a start. She sat up, gasping, and looked around for the cause of the racket. The house was black as pitch, except for the cerulean flicker and glow of the television set, which cast long shadows at crazy angles everywhere. The doorbell rang again, insistently, and Sarah threw off her blanket and stood up warily. No one came to visit anymore, and she couldn’t think of anyone who would be visiting her tonight. Still, curiosity and an overwhelming need for some human connection guided her to the front door, which she opened a crack. Standing there on her doorstep was a witch and two demons. She went to scream, and before the sound could rush from her startled throat, they yelled in unison:
“Trick or Treat!”
“Wh-what?” Sarah replied, flabbergasted.
“Trick or Treat, lady! It’s Halloween night?” The witch replied flippantly from under the wide brim of her hat that was obscuring her face.
“It…it is? Oh, gosh, I guess I just forgot. I’m sorry you three.” She paused for a moment, and then added quizzically, “Aren't you a little old to be trick or treating, anyway?”
All three of them stood taller than Sarah, and seemed to be college-aged from the sound of their voices.
“You got any candy or not, lady?” retorted one of the demons, ignoring her question entirely.
“I’m afraid not, I’m very sorry. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to run along. Have a good night.” Sarah took a half-step backward and moved to shut the door, when the demon who hadn't spoken yet reached out and placed a large hand on it.
“That’s really too bad.” He stated, placing his large body in front of Sarah. “You know the deal, lady, if you don’t got Treats, then I’m afraid it’s Tricks for you!”
Sarah began to protest, but the smaller demon’s hand shot out with a thick cotton hand towel and absorbed her screams. The larger demon pushed forward into the doorway, and the smaller backed Sarah up by the towel over her mouth. The last thing Sarah saw before she passed out in sheer terror was the witch, hat brim still down over her face, sauntering into the entryway, closing the door. The last thing Sarah heard before darkness once again overtook her this evening, was the clack of the witch’s high heels on the cold tile of the entryway, the maniacal laughter of the two demons, and the ‘click’ of the deadbolt sealing her into her living nightmare.
***
Sarah was sure she was awake, but everything was still black. Her mind raced through the terrifying possibilities before it concluded, correctly, that she had been blindfolded. She went to get up, but realized with abject horror that she couldn’t move a muscle. Her arms were suspended high above her head at angles, and her legs were sticking straight out in front of her, that much she could figure. But what she couldn’t figure out was why. She took a few deep breaths, and calmed herself as much as possible. Reaching out with her ears, she trained to hear anything that might help her, anything that might give her some kind of clue as to her fate.
“Taping her legs to the kitchen table really was a good idea. Those exposed beams overhead are perfect for keeping those arms up, and that table really is sturdy. What do you think that is? Oak? Cedar?”
“I don’t know what kind of wood it is, moron! I only care that it’s strong, and that it can stand up to her trying to thrash, and escape. You’re right about those beams though, we had just enough rope to stretch her arms up to the point that they can’t even wiggle. Almost serendipitous, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, Donnie, absolutely sere…seren..dubitous.”
“Don’t use my name idiot! It’s that kind of stuff that’s going to get us caught!”
“Sorry, Donnie, I won’t do it again. Oof! Hey! That hurts!”
“Don’t slap him too hard, he’s family.” The witch scolded Donnie in her silky voice.
“Ok, baby, I’ll take it easy on him, but he used my name!”
“It won’t matter after a while, sugar, she’ll see things our way.”
Sarah could feel her heart pounding in her neck, and she tried again to wriggle free, but all she managed to do was knock off one of her slippers.
“Hey, she’s awake!” The smaller demon announced to the group, as they converged on her helpless form.
Sarah began to beg piteously. “Please! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you, just let me go! I don’t have much money, but whatever I’ve got, it’s yours! Please, you don’t have to do this!”
The witch giggled, and purred at the helpless homeowner, “Do what, Miss Sarah?”
Sarah swallowed hard, and her voice was shaky as she replied, “I, I don’t know! Whatever you’re planning, whatever torture you have for me, you don’t have to! I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go!”
The whole group laughed in unison, and it was a sound that chilled Sarah’s blood in her veins. She shivered and thrashed her head left and right, trying to sense where they were, and what they were doing.
“What?! Why are you laughing? What do you want with me?!”
The group’s laughter died down, and Sarah could feel someone’s hot breath in her ear, exacerbating her shivering. Suddenly, the witch’s voice flowed into her ear like molten steel.
“We’re going to get what we’ve wanted for years Miss Sarah. That, and nothing more.”
That was the second time she had called her that. ‘Miss Sarah’. These young adults knew her, and had for some time. Who could they be? More importantly Sarah wondered about what they could want. The thought of it stole all the life from her blood.
“Please, let me go! I don’t understand, but I can help! Just let me go!”
The group ignored her now, and began to make preparations. Sarah could hear unzipping, and felt the vibrations of something being laid out on the table. A tool pouch maybe? She wasn’t sure. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what they could possibly want, and who they were, when she felt a tug at her remaining slipper, and it came free of her foot.
“Wait! What are you doing?! H-hey!”
Sarah protested at the removal of her slipper, and then even more when two fingers deftly pinched her socks between her big toes. With a flourish that she felt, rather than saw, the socks were pulled off, leaving her warm, soft feet bare.
“Put those back on! What do you want from me?!” Sarah shrieked, as her bare toes wriggled and she scrunched her soles reflexively.
“This.”
The softest, lightest touch Sarah had ever felt ran up her left foot, from the heel up to the balls of her feet, under her wiggly toes, and back down. It repeated the process on her right foot, and began again on her left. The sensation was unbearably…ticklish! Sarah began to giggle and tried kicking her feet, but she couldn’t seem to get them away from the tickling sensation.
“I see you like the feather Miss Sarah,” the witch cooed, “It definitely likes you too! Tickle, tickle, tickle…”
Sarah’s giggles turned to genuine laughter as the tickling intensified. This was horrid! She couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, and they were…tickling her! It was unbelievable to Sarah that anyone would want to do this to a person. She was beginning to rethink any thoughts she had had recently about wanting to make human connections again. The second she had opened her door for someone, it lead straight to inhuman torture. The tickling was maddening, and it never seemed to slow, not even for a second. The same methodical pace and pattern, over and over again. Heels to toes, left foot to right foot. Finally, Sarah screamed out in desperation.
“PLEHEHEASE! Ahahahahaha Stahahahap! Whahahahahahahawhy?!”
No answers came though, as the witch continued tickling her bare feet. She studied Sarah’s feet as she tickled them. They were about a size six, and unbelievably soft. It looked to her like Sarah had never gone barefoot in her life, even though she knew that wasn’t the case. There was no trace of callous, and they were a light pink at the heels, balls, and toes, and a sumptuous cream color on the lightly wrinkled soles. She didn’t answer Sarah’s question, but she did continue her verbal teasing.
“Tickle, tickle tickle…”
Donnie and his other demon compatriot hooted and cheered as Sarah howled and laughed hysterically. They loved seeing Sarah’s deliciously beautiful feet wriggle and squirm against the incessant feathering, but they were beginning to get a bit impatient. They had their own desires for Sarah, and they involved a different target than her admittedly flawless feet.
“When are we going to get our turn Wendy?” griped the smaller of the two demons.
“There you go again, using names!” Donnie said, raising his hand to slap his cousin’s head again.
“Patience, Donnie. No need to slap Sid, he’s just getting anxious,” Wendy replied, as she continued to feather Sarah’s helplessly ticklish feet. “You two can go ahead and get started, she could use a little break anyhow.”
In between Sarah’s bouts of helpless, hysterical laughter, she was digesting the conversation occurring between the three members of the group. Donnie…Wendy…Sid! Wait a minute! She knew these kids…well they weren’t kids anymore were they? No, they’d be 18 now, or a little older.
“W-wait! I know you! Donnie, you were my paperboy! Wendy your family lived down the street, and all three of you used to play in my yard with the neighbor boy, Jimmy! You don’t have to do this, I can…I can make you cookies like I used to! I can EEP!”
Sarah shrieked as she felt cold steel on the small of her back. She heard her sweater being cut, and felt the fabric pulling away from her body. What fresh hell was in store for her now?
“We’re a little past the milk and cookie stage Miss Sarah,” Donnie said with a chuckle. “We’ve been wanting to do this to you since we was young. We’re finally going to get our revenge after all these years.”
“Revenge?! For what?! What did I ever do for you except show you affection? I was nice to you, and now you repay me like this?!”
“It’s simple, Miss Sarah,” Wendy cooed in her silky, husky voice. “You teased us. For years you were a tease, unwittingly of course, but you teased all the same. Always walking around in sandals, flip flops, or even barefoot. Showing off these perfect, pedicured feet. You have been asking for it all this time, and now you’re getting everything you deserve.”
“Oh, yeah,” chimed Sid, “You teased with those pretty feet of yours, and with those lovely, perfect…” He made the final snip on her sweater, separating it from her body with a flourish, and revealing the ribbed gray tank underneath, “Pits!”
The look on Sarah’s face was an inscrutable mix between fear and confusion. How does someone tease with their armpits? They’re just…armpits. How are they something that can be a tease? She does wear a lot of sleeveless tops, but that’s just because they’re comfortable, and fashionable, and they keep her cool. Certainly she wouldn’t try to tease anyone with an armpit! Her thoughts were redirected as Wendy spoke up.
“Oh yes, her delectable underarms. They certainly did always drive you two crazy. You boys can play with her helpless pits for a while, hear how they make her howl, and then I’m going to start back in on her feet. Donnie, you may as well take off her blindfold.”
Light assaulted Sarah’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly as everything came in to focus. Wendy was in front of her, lovely and commanding, and Donnie and Sid were flanking Sarah one on a side. The details of her impending torment had caused full-on panic in her, and she tried her best to thrash.
“Please! No! I’ll go crazy! You have to let me go. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”
Her cries fell on deaf ears, however. The two cousins were far too enamored of her armpits to take notice. They gazed longingly at the soft, shaved armpits, helplessly on display for their devilish torments. Each member of the demonic pair twirled a turkey feather in the fingers of his right hand, and before Sarah could even begin to beg anew, they went to work. Sid swirled his feather within the bowl-like hollows, sliding the length of the plume over the flawless skin. Donnie used the tip of his feather, tracing the individual wrinkles and creases in the centers, and playing connect-the-dots with the tiny hint, like a sprinkle of pepper, of stubble there.
Sarah threw her head back and howled like a mad woman. The tickling was unbearable in her underarms, and she was both horrified and amazed at the skill the witless pair displayed in torturing her with the feathers. She tried to beg for mercy, she tried to tell them her bank account and PIN, where the safe was, and the combo for it. She tried to tell them anything she could, but all that came out was melodic, tortured, laughter.
“Wow, boys, looks like you struck a nerve or two in those hot-pockets of hers! Looks like she’s finally paying for all those sundresses and tanks, eh you two?”
The boys nodded without really listening, both so intent on tickling Sarah’s helpless armpits, that they were transported to another plane altogether.
“Ok, y’all, I’m jumping in here, these tickly tooties have had too long a rest.” Wendy announced, fluttering her long, black, nails. She then began to stroke and wriggle them over Sarah’s baby-soft feet, deftly tickling the lightly-wrinkled soles and pudgy toes.
Sarah’s laughter reached new levels of desperation as her poor feet were added into the torturous mix. The boys had dropped the feathers in favor of their rough fingers, and the feeling of the fingers in her armpits and the nails on her feet had her going out of her mind. The tickling was all-consuming now, and Sarah could think of nothing else except how much it tickled, and how much she had to laugh. All thoughts of her depression, her sadness, all of the past year, flew away under the non-stop tickling. Her head felt like it was filled with bright light, and her body reveled in the feeling of touch. Her muscles felt pleasantly tense, and her lungs burned with the effort of laughing, but it all felt sublime. The pure inundation of ticklish torment had caused a change in Sarah, and she began to love it. She surrendered herself to their touch, and allowed herself to melt away in the laughter pouring from her lips. She was awake, for the first time in what felt like forever, and she truly loved it.
The tickling continued until Sarah was a sweating, heaving wreck. She hung limp against her bondage, and a huge smile was plastered across her face. She felt relaxed and effervescent all at once.
“Wow Miss Sarah,” Donnie exclaimed, “You look like you liked it!”
“Donnie,” Sarah replied, “Shut up, and keep tickling me.”
\\\ Sarah and her mischievous trio will return. ///
---Tidas
It had been hard for Sarah since Jim had died. The life insurance had helped out with the bills, and had taken care of the funeral, but it was the emotional toll that really sapped her energy. She was 36, and a widow. All alone, without even a dog to keep her company. She had considered getting one, but that was something she had talked about doing with Jim, and the very thought of it made her choke up and the tears well in her eyes. She was still quite beautiful, with thick, dark, brown hair and soft blue eyes, but it didn’t bring her any comfort when men noticed her. Sarah was too consumed by grief and loneliness to care.
The wind blew crisp and cool, shaking the bright orange and red leaves from the old trees in Sarah’s front yard. They swirled through the air, floating whimsically, before landing in a carpet of their fellows that blanketed the widow’s yard. The house that Sarah lived in was an old Victorian, painted light blue and standing vigil over the cul-de-sac in which it was tucked away. Her neighbors on either side hadn’t been able to keep up with their mortgages, and the bank had foreclosed on them in the housing crisis a few years back. The lack of friendly faces on either side of her had been both comfort and torment to Sarah. She didn’t want people intruding on her misery, but she also wished that someone was there to tell her it would be alright.
This evening found Sarah on her couch in the den, wearing black yoga pants, a gray, ribbed tank top, and charcoal wrap sweater that tied at the waist. Dark grey slippers enveloped her socked feet, and an afghan was draped lazily over her. She was watching something mindless on television, trying to get her mind to go anywhere but her pain for a while, when her eyelids became heavy. Sarah had not been sleeping well, so she welcomed the creeping feeling of sleep that overcame her body. She slumped into the pillows on the couch, curled up into a ball and fell fast asleep.
The clamor of the doorbell awoke Sarah with a start. She sat up, gasping, and looked around for the cause of the racket. The house was black as pitch, except for the cerulean flicker and glow of the television set, which cast long shadows at crazy angles everywhere. The doorbell rang again, insistently, and Sarah threw off her blanket and stood up warily. No one came to visit anymore, and she couldn’t think of anyone who would be visiting her tonight. Still, curiosity and an overwhelming need for some human connection guided her to the front door, which she opened a crack. Standing there on her doorstep was a witch and two demons. She went to scream, and before the sound could rush from her startled throat, they yelled in unison:
“Trick or Treat!”
“Wh-what?” Sarah replied, flabbergasted.
“Trick or Treat, lady! It’s Halloween night?” The witch replied flippantly from under the wide brim of her hat that was obscuring her face.
“It…it is? Oh, gosh, I guess I just forgot. I’m sorry you three.” She paused for a moment, and then added quizzically, “Aren't you a little old to be trick or treating, anyway?”
All three of them stood taller than Sarah, and seemed to be college-aged from the sound of their voices.
“You got any candy or not, lady?” retorted one of the demons, ignoring her question entirely.
“I’m afraid not, I’m very sorry. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to run along. Have a good night.” Sarah took a half-step backward and moved to shut the door, when the demon who hadn't spoken yet reached out and placed a large hand on it.
“That’s really too bad.” He stated, placing his large body in front of Sarah. “You know the deal, lady, if you don’t got Treats, then I’m afraid it’s Tricks for you!”
Sarah began to protest, but the smaller demon’s hand shot out with a thick cotton hand towel and absorbed her screams. The larger demon pushed forward into the doorway, and the smaller backed Sarah up by the towel over her mouth. The last thing Sarah saw before she passed out in sheer terror was the witch, hat brim still down over her face, sauntering into the entryway, closing the door. The last thing Sarah heard before darkness once again overtook her this evening, was the clack of the witch’s high heels on the cold tile of the entryway, the maniacal laughter of the two demons, and the ‘click’ of the deadbolt sealing her into her living nightmare.
***
Sarah was sure she was awake, but everything was still black. Her mind raced through the terrifying possibilities before it concluded, correctly, that she had been blindfolded. She went to get up, but realized with abject horror that she couldn’t move a muscle. Her arms were suspended high above her head at angles, and her legs were sticking straight out in front of her, that much she could figure. But what she couldn’t figure out was why. She took a few deep breaths, and calmed herself as much as possible. Reaching out with her ears, she trained to hear anything that might help her, anything that might give her some kind of clue as to her fate.
“Taping her legs to the kitchen table really was a good idea. Those exposed beams overhead are perfect for keeping those arms up, and that table really is sturdy. What do you think that is? Oak? Cedar?”
“I don’t know what kind of wood it is, moron! I only care that it’s strong, and that it can stand up to her trying to thrash, and escape. You’re right about those beams though, we had just enough rope to stretch her arms up to the point that they can’t even wiggle. Almost serendipitous, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, Donnie, absolutely sere…seren..dubitous.”
“Don’t use my name idiot! It’s that kind of stuff that’s going to get us caught!”
“Sorry, Donnie, I won’t do it again. Oof! Hey! That hurts!”
“Don’t slap him too hard, he’s family.” The witch scolded Donnie in her silky voice.
“Ok, baby, I’ll take it easy on him, but he used my name!”
“It won’t matter after a while, sugar, she’ll see things our way.”
Sarah could feel her heart pounding in her neck, and she tried again to wriggle free, but all she managed to do was knock off one of her slippers.
“Hey, she’s awake!” The smaller demon announced to the group, as they converged on her helpless form.
Sarah began to beg piteously. “Please! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you, just let me go! I don’t have much money, but whatever I’ve got, it’s yours! Please, you don’t have to do this!”
The witch giggled, and purred at the helpless homeowner, “Do what, Miss Sarah?”
Sarah swallowed hard, and her voice was shaky as she replied, “I, I don’t know! Whatever you’re planning, whatever torture you have for me, you don’t have to! I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go!”
The whole group laughed in unison, and it was a sound that chilled Sarah’s blood in her veins. She shivered and thrashed her head left and right, trying to sense where they were, and what they were doing.
“What?! Why are you laughing? What do you want with me?!”
The group’s laughter died down, and Sarah could feel someone’s hot breath in her ear, exacerbating her shivering. Suddenly, the witch’s voice flowed into her ear like molten steel.
“We’re going to get what we’ve wanted for years Miss Sarah. That, and nothing more.”
That was the second time she had called her that. ‘Miss Sarah’. These young adults knew her, and had for some time. Who could they be? More importantly Sarah wondered about what they could want. The thought of it stole all the life from her blood.
“Please, let me go! I don’t understand, but I can help! Just let me go!”
The group ignored her now, and began to make preparations. Sarah could hear unzipping, and felt the vibrations of something being laid out on the table. A tool pouch maybe? She wasn’t sure. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what they could possibly want, and who they were, when she felt a tug at her remaining slipper, and it came free of her foot.
“Wait! What are you doing?! H-hey!”
Sarah protested at the removal of her slipper, and then even more when two fingers deftly pinched her socks between her big toes. With a flourish that she felt, rather than saw, the socks were pulled off, leaving her warm, soft feet bare.
“Put those back on! What do you want from me?!” Sarah shrieked, as her bare toes wriggled and she scrunched her soles reflexively.
“This.”
The softest, lightest touch Sarah had ever felt ran up her left foot, from the heel up to the balls of her feet, under her wiggly toes, and back down. It repeated the process on her right foot, and began again on her left. The sensation was unbearably…ticklish! Sarah began to giggle and tried kicking her feet, but she couldn’t seem to get them away from the tickling sensation.
“I see you like the feather Miss Sarah,” the witch cooed, “It definitely likes you too! Tickle, tickle, tickle…”
Sarah’s giggles turned to genuine laughter as the tickling intensified. This was horrid! She couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, and they were…tickling her! It was unbelievable to Sarah that anyone would want to do this to a person. She was beginning to rethink any thoughts she had had recently about wanting to make human connections again. The second she had opened her door for someone, it lead straight to inhuman torture. The tickling was maddening, and it never seemed to slow, not even for a second. The same methodical pace and pattern, over and over again. Heels to toes, left foot to right foot. Finally, Sarah screamed out in desperation.
“PLEHEHEASE! Ahahahahaha Stahahahap! Whahahahahahahawhy?!”
No answers came though, as the witch continued tickling her bare feet. She studied Sarah’s feet as she tickled them. They were about a size six, and unbelievably soft. It looked to her like Sarah had never gone barefoot in her life, even though she knew that wasn’t the case. There was no trace of callous, and they were a light pink at the heels, balls, and toes, and a sumptuous cream color on the lightly wrinkled soles. She didn’t answer Sarah’s question, but she did continue her verbal teasing.
“Tickle, tickle tickle…”
Donnie and his other demon compatriot hooted and cheered as Sarah howled and laughed hysterically. They loved seeing Sarah’s deliciously beautiful feet wriggle and squirm against the incessant feathering, but they were beginning to get a bit impatient. They had their own desires for Sarah, and they involved a different target than her admittedly flawless feet.
“When are we going to get our turn Wendy?” griped the smaller of the two demons.
“There you go again, using names!” Donnie said, raising his hand to slap his cousin’s head again.
“Patience, Donnie. No need to slap Sid, he’s just getting anxious,” Wendy replied, as she continued to feather Sarah’s helplessly ticklish feet. “You two can go ahead and get started, she could use a little break anyhow.”
In between Sarah’s bouts of helpless, hysterical laughter, she was digesting the conversation occurring between the three members of the group. Donnie…Wendy…Sid! Wait a minute! She knew these kids…well they weren’t kids anymore were they? No, they’d be 18 now, or a little older.
“W-wait! I know you! Donnie, you were my paperboy! Wendy your family lived down the street, and all three of you used to play in my yard with the neighbor boy, Jimmy! You don’t have to do this, I can…I can make you cookies like I used to! I can EEP!”
Sarah shrieked as she felt cold steel on the small of her back. She heard her sweater being cut, and felt the fabric pulling away from her body. What fresh hell was in store for her now?
“We’re a little past the milk and cookie stage Miss Sarah,” Donnie said with a chuckle. “We’ve been wanting to do this to you since we was young. We’re finally going to get our revenge after all these years.”
“Revenge?! For what?! What did I ever do for you except show you affection? I was nice to you, and now you repay me like this?!”
“It’s simple, Miss Sarah,” Wendy cooed in her silky, husky voice. “You teased us. For years you were a tease, unwittingly of course, but you teased all the same. Always walking around in sandals, flip flops, or even barefoot. Showing off these perfect, pedicured feet. You have been asking for it all this time, and now you’re getting everything you deserve.”
“Oh, yeah,” chimed Sid, “You teased with those pretty feet of yours, and with those lovely, perfect…” He made the final snip on her sweater, separating it from her body with a flourish, and revealing the ribbed gray tank underneath, “Pits!”
The look on Sarah’s face was an inscrutable mix between fear and confusion. How does someone tease with their armpits? They’re just…armpits. How are they something that can be a tease? She does wear a lot of sleeveless tops, but that’s just because they’re comfortable, and fashionable, and they keep her cool. Certainly she wouldn’t try to tease anyone with an armpit! Her thoughts were redirected as Wendy spoke up.
“Oh yes, her delectable underarms. They certainly did always drive you two crazy. You boys can play with her helpless pits for a while, hear how they make her howl, and then I’m going to start back in on her feet. Donnie, you may as well take off her blindfold.”
Light assaulted Sarah’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly as everything came in to focus. Wendy was in front of her, lovely and commanding, and Donnie and Sid were flanking Sarah one on a side. The details of her impending torment had caused full-on panic in her, and she tried her best to thrash.
“Please! No! I’ll go crazy! You have to let me go. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”
Her cries fell on deaf ears, however. The two cousins were far too enamored of her armpits to take notice. They gazed longingly at the soft, shaved armpits, helplessly on display for their devilish torments. Each member of the demonic pair twirled a turkey feather in the fingers of his right hand, and before Sarah could even begin to beg anew, they went to work. Sid swirled his feather within the bowl-like hollows, sliding the length of the plume over the flawless skin. Donnie used the tip of his feather, tracing the individual wrinkles and creases in the centers, and playing connect-the-dots with the tiny hint, like a sprinkle of pepper, of stubble there.
Sarah threw her head back and howled like a mad woman. The tickling was unbearable in her underarms, and she was both horrified and amazed at the skill the witless pair displayed in torturing her with the feathers. She tried to beg for mercy, she tried to tell them her bank account and PIN, where the safe was, and the combo for it. She tried to tell them anything she could, but all that came out was melodic, tortured, laughter.
“Wow, boys, looks like you struck a nerve or two in those hot-pockets of hers! Looks like she’s finally paying for all those sundresses and tanks, eh you two?”
The boys nodded without really listening, both so intent on tickling Sarah’s helpless armpits, that they were transported to another plane altogether.
“Ok, y’all, I’m jumping in here, these tickly tooties have had too long a rest.” Wendy announced, fluttering her long, black, nails. She then began to stroke and wriggle them over Sarah’s baby-soft feet, deftly tickling the lightly-wrinkled soles and pudgy toes.
Sarah’s laughter reached new levels of desperation as her poor feet were added into the torturous mix. The boys had dropped the feathers in favor of their rough fingers, and the feeling of the fingers in her armpits and the nails on her feet had her going out of her mind. The tickling was all-consuming now, and Sarah could think of nothing else except how much it tickled, and how much she had to laugh. All thoughts of her depression, her sadness, all of the past year, flew away under the non-stop tickling. Her head felt like it was filled with bright light, and her body reveled in the feeling of touch. Her muscles felt pleasantly tense, and her lungs burned with the effort of laughing, but it all felt sublime. The pure inundation of ticklish torment had caused a change in Sarah, and she began to love it. She surrendered herself to their touch, and allowed herself to melt away in the laughter pouring from her lips. She was awake, for the first time in what felt like forever, and she truly loved it.
The tickling continued until Sarah was a sweating, heaving wreck. She hung limp against her bondage, and a huge smile was plastered across her face. She felt relaxed and effervescent all at once.
“Wow Miss Sarah,” Donnie exclaimed, “You look like you liked it!”
“Donnie,” Sarah replied, “Shut up, and keep tickling me.”
\\\ Sarah and her mischievous trio will return. ///
