thetroublewt
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Sorry it has taken me so long to make a new story. This is easily the biggest I have ever written and has taught me loads. Its a tickle crime story that has feet and genital focus tickling with bits of tease and denial. Interrogation tickling also makes an appearance. If you love feathers you will like this.This is entirely a work of fiction should be treated as fantasy because consent it awesome. I would love any feedback.
The Masked Tickler
It was the stuff of legend on campus. Rumours had been circulating widely on social media about him. This masked man who broke into young girls rooms, tied them up and… well if Twitter was to be believed tickled them. The girls were always found the next morning, usually by a dormmate or a warden. Naked, drenched in sweat and sound asleep, the only thing on their person became known as his calling card. White feathers pulled between each toe. Campus security would get involved and the police were called but the story was the same, no girl ever wanted to press charges. What was he doing to these girls to make them so scared?
‘It will be some frat boys getting their kicks, let the local campus guys sort it out.’ her boss had said. ‘It definitely doesn't need the time of a detective who's busy enough as it is.’
She had disagreed with him vehemently. What if he was hurting these girls? What if it turned nasty? He told her to drop it and get back to work. She swore under her breath and slumped at her desk. 5 girls in 4 weeks. This was more than just some frat dare. She had to keep digging.
Det. Summer could've passed for a student herself. Blonde hair, steel blue eyes and her 5” 6 frame gave her a cheerleader look. The sharp suit and badge said otherwise. She was a good and well respected detective, did things mostly by the book and was able to make connections others missed. She wasn't letting this one drop but it would have to wait till she got home.
She opened the door to her apartment. Chairman Meow came to greet her. Giving him a light pet she got undressed, put on her PJs and poured herself a glass of wine. Opening her laptop she began to dig deeper. She looked for connections between the victims. Other than their looks (all very pretty) they didn't have a whole lot in common. Different majors, different halls of residence and in one case not even English. Redheads, blondes and brunettes. Short girls, tall girls there wasn't a pattern. At least one she could see. He didn't even do it on the same day, one week he got two the other none. She wasn't even sure he was a he.
Her next lead was social media. Twitter had a slight buzz about the #maskedtickler mainly from parents wondering what the University was doing about it. Some students were speculating about which frat house was responsible and the student paper accused the women of making it up. Through the noise she spotted a conversation between to students with a link to a Facebook group. Clicking it led to a private Facebook group called the “White Feather Society’. She looked at its membership, all girls and all students. Summer created a fake profile in a few minutes and requested to join. She waited.
Her microwave went *ping* and she plated up her, frankly, disappointing dinner. By the time she had got back to her laptop she had been accepted into the group. 40 members all sharing rumours and stories about the Tickler with a pinned post right at the top. It was a confession from one of the girls! This could give her the clues she was looking for.
Hi, my name is Stacy and I was one of the girls who has been visited by the Tickler. I want to tell you what happened so you know what to expect. I went to bed as normal that night and fell asleep quite quickly. I didn't hear him come in and I didn't feel him strip me and tie me up. I don't know how he did it. He woke me up slowly. Saying my name. I woke up and saw him, dressed in black with a black mask over his eyes. He has blonde hair other than that I didn't get a good look at him but I think he's a bit of hunk. Anyways I tried to scream but he had gagged me. He said very softly that he wasn't going to hurt me or rape me and that when he was finished if I was upset he would tell me his name and let the cops arrest him.
Summer couldn't believe what she was reading.
I calmed down. I don't know why but I believed him. He went and knelt at my feet. He then showed me a white feather and tickled my feet. I am so ticklish. He tickled my feet for a long time, he would say stuff like cootchie coo and tell me how ticklish I was which made it worse. He spent a long time tickling my feet. He then moved the feather up my legs and around my hips. He was so careful and gentle. I was laughing alot. He got to my boobs and he tickled there as well. I didn't realise my nipples were ticklish. He spent a while there. It turned me on so much.
‘Holy shit’ Summers exclaimed.
My nipples were aching and I really wanted him. He went between my legs and he asked if it was OK if he tickled my clit. After I nodded he started tickling me right there. He just tickled my clit for ages. I was very close to coming but every time he seemed to know and stopped. He edged me 4 times.
After the 4th time he went back to my feet and kissed and sucked my toes. He licked my soles a bit and said I was beautiful. I've never has someone do that before but it was amazing. I think he has a foot fetish. Anyways after he had finished with my feet he went back to my pussy. He said calmly that I was going to come for him. He tickled me there. I came 3 times in the next hour I think.
I don’t know how long he took but he didn’t have sex with me, he seemed pretty focussed me to be honest, he didn’t even jerk off. When he was done I was exhausted. He came over and checked to make sure I was ok and I nodded. He then kept his promise and told me he would tell me his name if I felt upset. I shook my head. He kissed my forehead and then left out the window. The warden found me the next day.
I hope he comes back.
Summers took it all in. What had she just read? A man running around campus, tickling women to orgasm and none of them wanted to press charges. No it didn’t make sense, the girl was lying, trying to cover the fact he had clearly coerced her into something more and she wanted to take the guilt off by making up a fantasy story. Her tale had led to a lot of likes and comments from women desperate to meet him, but still no leads. She looked at the Facebook admin, her name was Beth Leach. A quick search using her database showed that she was a student living in a dorm on campus. Summers decided to pay her a visit. It wasn’t too late and she had nothing better to do. As she got off her sofa she felt a wetness in her panties. Fuck. She tried to put it in the back of her mind.
She arrived at 10pm. Showing her badge the warden he let her into the block. Leach was on the top floor. The place felt deserted. It was a Saturday, she thought, most of the residents would be out partying. As she walked down the hallway to Leach’s room she heard a muffled sound, straining she made out… laughter! She hurried to the source. It was Leach’s room, pressing against the door she heard a soft giggle and a moan. He must be in there now! She decided to burst in and surprise him. She twisted the handle found the room unlocked and she entered.
‘Freeze!’ She exclaimed and then immediately realised she had wasted her breath.
On the bed in front of her lay a small blonde with glasses. She had a round figure, flush and aroused. Her pants down by her ankles she had was applying a soft feather to her own pussy. In her mouth was a sock. She spat it out and shrieked as Summers entered!
‘Oh my God! Who the fuck are you get out!’ She screamed as she frantically tried to cover her modesty.
‘I'm s..sorry I thought you were b..being attacked’ Summers stammered.
‘Attacked?! Who the fuck are you and why did you come into my room? Fuck you ever heard of knocking?’ She pulled her panties up and discarded the feather, clearly deeply embarrassed by what she had been caught doing.
Summer composed herself and tried to regain control of the situation.
‘I'm Detective Summer I'm investigating the assaults that have been happening on campus. You’re Beth right? You admin a Facebook group about a predator called the Masked Ticker?’
‘Fuck. Yeah. Yeah I admin it but it's not a crime to do that is it? I mean I'm just sharing stories…’ Beth had turned a deeper red.
‘Calm down I'm not here to arrest you. I just want to know who he is and thought you may have discovered something. Do you know who he is?’ Summer enquired.
‘God I wish! No one knows who he is. We're just a fan club. He's never even visited me. I've tried working it out but he doesn't seem to leave any clues. Do you think he will visit me?’ Leach asked, more than a little hopefully.
‘We don’t know. Are you worried about him attacking you?’
‘Worried? No! I want him to visit. I mean doesn't he sound amazing!?’ Beth realised what she said, blushed, and looked at the floor. It dawned on Summer what she had interrupted as she had entered the room. A new approach was needed.
‘Beth I can understand what he is doing may sound fantastic. But we're worried that this may be a precursor to more serious assaults. His victims may be hiding his true nature for fear of reprisal. We don't want anyone getting hurt because of this do we?’
Beth was silent for a long time before she eventually said
‘No.’
‘Ok. Look you don't have to say anything now but if you know anything that might help us, or if you think you're in any danger you can ring me or stop by’ Summer was scribbling her number and home address on a piece of paper on Leach's desk.
‘This is my personal address so you can come and talk to me in confidence. You don't even need to come to a police station. Please think about it OK?’
‘OK… I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt.’ Muttered Beth.
‘I know. I'm gonna get going. Sorry for ...errr... interrupting your evening. Think about what I said.’
Beth said nothing but blushed again as Summer left. Driving home she pitied the kid. How messed up. How alone do you have to be to want a creep like him to visit you? I mean was she actually tickling her clit with that feather? Messed up. She arrived home to a hungry Chairman Meow. She fed him and went to bed. Her phone buzzed at 7:00am.
Summer. Get in pronto. Another girl attacked last night by Tickler. Campus going nuts. Victim doesn't want to press charges. Name: Leach, Beth.
Looks like her wish came true.
As quickly as she could she dressed and hit the road. 40 minutes later she was in the same room she was in hours before. Beth was sat on her bed wearing her PJ’s. A couple of campus wardens and police officers surrounded her. Her boss greeted her at the doorway.
‘Kid was found bound, naked and the usual fucking feather. This weirdos freaking out the University. They want it fixed. You need to find him. Drop everything else you're doing. Fucking fix this. Kid says she will only speak to you. And of course she's not pressing charges.’
Summer entered to see Leach clearly exhausted but very content. She was smiling as she walked up to her.
‘I don't want to press charges. I want everyone to go away.’ Leach said. Her voice sounded confident, no hint of fear.
Summer asked the officers to give her 5 minutes alone. They shuffled away closing the door behind. The detective kneeled in front of Leach and looked her in the eye. She saw nothing but happiness.
‘Please Beth. What happened?’ She asked.
Leach leaned in and whispered in Summer’s ear.
‘He. Was. Perfect.’
For the next 10 minutes she didn't say another word, only shaking her head when asked if he had hurt her or if he had sex with her. She slowly nodded and grinned when she was asked if she was sure she didn't want to press charges. It was no use. She wasn't going to be convinced.
The rest of the day was equally frustrating. No traces of a forced entry, other than an open window, no fingerprints, nothing in the area. Every victim had refused to let the authorities search their room. The University was working on that. Would take them too damn long.
Chinese tonight. Fuck cooking. Chairman gave her a look of approval as the food arrived. She sat and mulled over the day's events. What could he be doing to those girls to keep them silent. There must be something more to it. She looked at her notes, for the connection. Whatever it was, it wasn't forthcoming. She decided to sleep on it. Chairman agreed.
A warm night. No PJ's needed she thought as she settled into bed. This case was swimming around in her head. If she was honest she liked it like that. Focussing on work meant she didn't focus on other things. Like her big empty apartment. Her big empty bed. Her desire for more cats. The case kept looping in her head until she fell asleep. She didn't hear him come in.
‘Wake up Detective.’ The voice as so smooth and calming she didn't even freak out initially. She tried to move her hands, they were bound tight. A gag stopped her from screaming. The room was dark, she scanned around, nothing but shadows.
‘Good morning. Nice of you to join me.’ The voice said again. Confident and soothing. She tried to speak again but all she did was make a muffled mess.
‘You will forgive the gag my dear but we can't have you waking up the neighbours. It's for your own good really. You see I'm afraid you've been snooping around for too long Detective and it's interfering with my work. You're making me out to be some form of villain. When in fact I'm quite the opposite. You shall see.’
She saw a shadow move. It creeped closer to her feet and pulled up a chair. The covers were removed leaving her in her bra and panties. Her ankles and wrists had been tied to all four corners of the bed with silk ties. The shadow sat. It lifted something and waved it in the air. It was the silhouette of a feather. She gasped as it descended.
She felt it brush her right sole. Its teasingly and lazily stroked up and down her bare foot. Don't laugh, she thought, don't give the pervert the satisfaction. Its movement was slow and deliberate. Sliding up and down despite her desperate twitching. It fluttered over her toes. She was holding back so well. Then he said it.
‘Cootchie cootchie coo…’
It started as a giggle, it escaped the moment he finished saying it. She tried to get it back but it was out now. Another giggle followed and the feather danced in appreciation. It sawed between her toes. Another giggle, then another. Soon it was joined by her laughing more and more. She couldn't stop it.
‘Tickle tickle tickle. Such a ticklish little girl.’
She lost it.
Her laughter was a constant as the feather zipped up and down her helpless sole. He chuckled in delight as she tried to wriggle away to no avail. He watched her feet dance for his amusement as the feather kissed every part of her exposed foot. He brought a second feather into play for the other foot. Her feet danced some more for him. He was captivated.
‘That's much better now isn’t it dectective. Cootchie Cootchie coo.’
The tickle talk made it worse. She thrashed her head from side to side in a desperate attempt to scream. Her feet couldn’t evade his merciless touch. Her toes flexed and his feathers found her sensitive spots.The stroked and teased up and down her soles. She hadn’t been tickled since she was very young but she had always been sensitive, This was not helped by the fact that her job was desk based and she lotioned her feet most nights. It was something to do. The result was baby soft feet. A foot perv’s dream. The tickler was living that dream. He moved in as close as he could get to admire her wiggling soles. He couldn’t resist what happened next. Feathering one sole he began to lick her bare arch on the other. This opened up a new kind of torment for Summer. She screamed into the gag.
He grabbed her ankles and began to feast on her foot. He sucked every toe, hungry for her softness. He gave her arches loving licks and was spurred on by her delightful squeals. They were delicious. He grabbed the other foot and gave it a similar tongue bath. Summers went crazy. Her body hated and loved his soft warm tongue. Her brain screamed at her. Yes. No. Yes. No. He stopped only to resume feathering her soles. She screamed again. He took his time. The feathers provided a beautiful spectacle for him.
It felt like an eternity by the time he moved. He strode purposely and moved the chair to the side of the bed. She was breathing heavily, trying to recover as quickly as she could. She still couldn't make out any of his details really, he was tall, she had felt stubble on her toes as he had sucked them. That's all she got. He had brought his feathers with him.
‘You see detective, this is art. I’m not a monster. I’m an artist. You are a canvas. My works never complain. Neither will you.’
With those words he went to her tits. Summer was blessed with beautiful, round and larger than most breasts. Her nipples had already betrayed her and they were stiff and inviting. His feathers accepted their invitation. He sawed them slowly back and forth. Her reaction was beautiful. Laughter mixed with moans as he played her like a cellist. She screamed again as he flicked the tops of her nipples with the tips of his infernal feathers. She bucked and moaned as he then switched to long strokes.
‘Cootchie Cootchie Coo, such ticklish tits my dear. Tickle tickle, is the little baby ticklish?’
The tickle talk did not help at all. It filled her head and made every touch more unbearably. She was helpless and ticklish and he delighted in reminding her of it. Her nipples ached for more and she hated them for it. He was skilled at finding the balance between tickling and torture.
‘You’re helpless to resist detective. You’re mine to play with. Mine to torment. Tickle tickle.’
He leaned in and took a nipple in his mouth, ensuring he kept up his feather torment on the other. He sucked and slurped over her stiff bud. She moaned a deep, wanting moan. He chuckled. With a loving kiss he went back to his duel feather attack. She screamed again, but this time there was frustration in her voice.
‘Is my ticklish girl enjoying herself? Cootchie cootchie coo.’
She hated him. She hated him so much. She wanted him. She wanted him so much more. She was so ticklish and he was playing her so well. Is this what he did to those girls? Had they been telling the truth all along. Was she just a canvas for his ‘art’? Was she sick that she wanted to be his latest work?
She didn’t give her time to properly process this information as he came onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs. Moving swiftly and without a word being said, he parted her pussy lips.
‘My dear. You’re soaking.’ She couldn't look at him. She was red with shame.
Chuckling again he brought his feather down to her clit. It was erect and demanding attention. The feather kissed it gently. She babbled into her gag, trying desperately to scream for mercy, not there, please not there. It was no good. The feather flicked up and down her clit. She screamed again as it tickled unlike anything she had felt before. Her clit welcomed the torment and began to throb for more. He happily obliged. Her hips bucked and thrashed so with one hand he put pinned her hips down. He was strong yet his touch was gentle. He was in control. He moved the feather fast over her soaking sex. A few strokes and he swapped the feathers for a fresh one. Her torment was relentless.
‘Tickle tickle little one. Does someone like having her clitty tickled? Cootchie Cootchie Coo.’
Her breath began to shorten, she was going to cum. He was going to make her cum. There was nothing she could do. He was doing it so well, her clit was aching for it, just a few more strokes. She braced herself.
He stopped.
It was a deep grunt that came from her throat. Something primal. She was desperate and he had stopped. She looked at him, she caught his eyes. Deep brown eyes stared back at her. He moved back to her feet and began sucking tonguing her soles again. Somehow her feet had become more sensitive. Laughter poured into her gag, she felt the first bit of drool go down her cheek. He sucked each toe, lovingly, moaning deeply himself. She tried in vain to free herself from her bonds to no avail. He made love to her feet. She squealed and moaned.
It may have been 20 minutes but it felt like two hours before he emerged from her feet. She was a sweaty wreck. He moved back between her legs. He looked at her.
‘Now this is important. My work must always make a choice. My dear detective, you have a choice. I can tickle you with this feather until you cum or you can say no and I will leave you now. It is your choice. What will it be? Do you want the feathers kiss?’
She couldn’t believe it when she slowly nodded. He smiled. He leaned in, parted her womanhood and again applied the feather. A long moan came from the gagged detective and she moved her hips closer to his cruel tool. He flicked the tip of the feather up and down her clit, glistening and erect. She squealed again as he increased the tempo. Fast strokes now surrounded her nub and she began to buck in rhythm with the flicks. So soft and tickly she wasn’t even sure if she could cum with just the lightness of the feather. Her question was about to answered. He was going to drag this orgasm out of her. Screaming. She began to shake, her breathe deep and fast. He kept up the pace, determined to bring her to climax with just the one feather. A long, teasing orgasm.
‘Cum for me detective. Cootchie cootchie coo!’
That did it. She screamed. She shook. She felt it grip her from her toes up to her head. The orgasm washed over her again and again with each new stroke of the feather. She arched her back and let out one more groan. She was spent. But he wasn’t done. He kept going, faster strokes and she kept squealing. She bucked and moaned, she tried to cry for mercy. He wasn’t in a mercy mood. Soon she came again.
And again.
And again.
She collapsed. The last thing she heard before she slept was ‘...goodnight detective.’
She awoke with a start. Had she dreamed it? No gag in her mouth, her arms and feet were free. She tried t move, her muscles ached. On her belly she saw it. A single white feather. Fuck. She was exhausted. How long had she been out for? It was light, maybe a few hours. Fuck fuck fuck. How had she been so stupid. The creep clearly found her address from the note she left Leach! Fucker. She moved out of bed and paused. She ached, so tired and yet… No. No.
And yet she felt wonderful. Content, satisfied. What had he done to her. She hated herself. She was more determined to bring him in. Maybe he had drugged her or something. She refused to believe that she loved every second. She searched her room, for something. Anything. How did he get in? She went to her door.
Oh.
She hadn’t locked her door. What a fucking idiot. She had practically invited him in. Shit. He just let himself in and had his way with her. Not even a sign of a break-in. Why didn’t she just give him a key next time.
Wait.
A key.
30 minutes she was at the campus warden's office. She spoke to the head warden. Every warden had access to every room. There was a master key they all had in case of emergency. She demanded to see a rota for the last month. The warden complained, the Tickler had come in through the window, each room had an open window that’s how he gained entry.
‘No. Each room had a window opened.’ she explained.
She looked at the rota, she was looking for wardend not on duty during the tasks. 8 names popped up. Two female so she had a shortlist of 6. She asked to see their employment records. He refused but the threat of a warrant change his mind. They each had a photo, none of them had a beard. Damn. She couldn’t arrest them all, heck unless she reported her own attack she couldn't arrest any of them. She couldn’t tell anyone what happened, she wouldn’t live it down. She looked at their CV’s. They were all pretty similar, high school drop outs mainly. Guys with kids. Accept one. Dropped out of university 7 years ago. What did he study?
Modern Art.
It’s him. She knew it.
David Fall. He had been recruited a year ago. Great worker, kept himself to himself according to his boss. He wasn’t at work today. She got his address and got in her car. Time for a home visit.
He lived a good 40 minutes away. On the way her mind raced. She had no warrant, no real evidence, just a hunch. What was she going to do when she got there? Hope he just confesses? She parked up just down from his address. She was trying to figure out the play when she saw him. He came out to empty the garbage. He had a beard. Tall, 6”3. Muscular too. Heck he was cute. It must be him. He went back inside.
She got out of her car and approached his home. Nice place, she thought, small but nice. She approached the front door and thought better of it. She snuck around the back. She tested his back door. Open, just her luck, she went inside. She had expected a den, like a dungeon of some sort. She was greeted by a perfectly normal kitchen. She heard a tv playing in the front room. She moved closer.
She saw him. Sitting watching the game. The Cougars were winning but she expected them to toss it away before the 7th inning. FUCKING FOCUS. She reached for her holster, what was she going to do, shoot the guy? She let out small sigh as she found an empty space where her pistol should be. He moved up off the couch, she ducked back into the kitchen. She heard him move towards her, she hid behind the door. She couldn’t believe he didn't see her as he started to make himself a sandwich. She didn’t breathe as he moved. He eventually took a seat in a wooden chair. He took a few bites and leaned back in his chair.
This was her moment. Without thinking she grabbed her cuffs from her waist and grabbed his hands and moved them behind the chair. She cuffed him quick, working them between the wooden bars. He was stuck.
‘What the fuck?!’ He exclaimed.
Moving quickly she put him in a sleeper hold. She had always wondered if it would work. He struggled for a bit before he lost consciousness. She had made her mind up. Only one way to settle this. She got another wooden chair, she put his feet though the wooden back support bars. Finding a necktie she tightly bound them in place. Satisfied that he was secure she began to search the house. 5 minutes into her search she began to panic. No evidence, nothing. What if she had got it wrong. Fuck. Her search got desperate.
As she began to give up hope and started mentally writing her resignation letter she moved back through to the kitchen. On her way she passed the front door. Wait, a bag. A black bag. She opened it.
Bingo.
Dozens of soft white feathers. Time to wake this pervert up. Bringing the bag with her she found him still blacked out in the kitchen. She slapped him.
‘Wake up perv.’ She said.
He snorted into life.
‘What the fuck! What the hell have you done to me?’ He yelled.
‘The same fucking thing you have been doing to innocent women these past weeks.’ She replied calmly.
‘What are you on about?’ He said.
‘Don’t fucking play cute with me, i’ve found the bag, i’ve found the feathers.’ She replied.
‘Really? Do you want to know what I see? I see a detective who has broken into someone's home without a warrant, searched his home illegally, to find evidence to a crime no one has reported. I see a case that will get thrown out of court faster than the detective will lose her badge.’ He said, he had regained his composure and spoke with an authority which she recognised from last night.
‘Well… erm…’ she stuttered. Fuck he had her. Then she saw the bag. ‘I guess i’ll just have to make you confess.’ She moved towards it.
‘Why the hell would I do that? What are you doing?’ He asked, he sounded nervous.
She reached into the bag and pulled out a feather.
‘Because i’m guessing i have have you begging to talk.’ She said twirling the feather. This was a gamble, what if the perv wasn’t even ticklish. Well, only way to know. She moved herself and the feather towards his bare feet.
‘Wait no. Stop. Don’t do that.’ He said, confidence had been replaced by pleading.
She slowly, deliberately stroked the feather over his sole. His feet twitched. She kept her eyes locked on his. He bit his lip. She snaked the feather around his foot, he closed his eyes, she kept staring. She fluttered it around his toes. He began to shake. Then she remembered something.
‘Oh. Cootchie cootchie cooooooo.’ She said seductively. It worked.
‘Hahahehehehehehehhe on no hehehahahehehhe eplease no hahahehehehe.’ His laughter escaped and he couldn’t bring it back. She giggled as made the feather have a merry dance over both his soles. They tried to wriggle free but she patiently attacked them. The feather licked his sensitive soles. He laughed and howled as his feet were tormented.
‘Hahehehehhe eoh god please hahehehehehehe no not that ahaheheh!’ He howled.
‘Awww whats the matter is the widdle perv ticklish on his feet? Tickle tickle tickle!’ She had to admit, this was fun.
Retrieving another feather now she used two of them to stroke each of his bare soles. Up and down, caressing and teasing his exposed flesh. His arches danced for her like hers had danced for him. She was hooked on his response. She worked them between his toes and giggled when he screamed for mercy. She put down the feathers. She had a game to play. She grabbed his big toe on his right foot.
‘This little piggy went to market.’ She said.
‘Fuck no’ he gasped.
‘And this little piggy stayed at home.’ She continued moving down his toes. They tried to wriggle away. They failed.
‘This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none.’ She said her fingers moving slowly further down.
‘Please please please please no.’ he said, desperate.
‘And this little piggy went………….’ She paused. His feet tensed. ‘Weeeeee weeeeeee weeeeeeee all the way home!’ With that she raked her nails all over his big feet. They wriggled and scribbled all around his soft skin and scratched between his toes. When they scrunched shut, she flexed them back to continue the torment.
‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhehehehehehehe oh God Mercy ahahehehehahahehehehe!’
She had no interest in mercy. She used her fingers as devilish weapons of his naked flesh. Dancing between arches and toes, he didn’t have time to adjust to the sensations. He simply cackled and laughed as she played with his feet. She introduced her tongue on his arches and he howled again. She had to admit he had soft tender skin. It seemed to coax her. To do more devious things to him. She looked at his face, tears were streaming down his face, his laughter had turned almost silent. Yet there was something else. Desire. She looked at his jeans. He was enjoying his torment.
She got up and unbuckled his jeans. He didn’t have the strength to protest any more. She yanked them along with his boxers. His rock hard cock jumped out to great her. He was so stiff. She was impressed. With a feather she reached underneath and began to tickle his balls. He became vocal again.
‘HAHAHAHHEHEHAHEHHE OMG NOT THERE OH AHIT AHAHEHEHHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHE FUCK NOT MY BALLSHAHAHEHEHEHE.’
‘Ohhhh there's a spot, the baby got ticklish balls! Cootchie Cootchie Coo!’ She said in delight. The tickle lust had gripped her. He looked at him and saw a beautiful canvas. She wanted to paint him. The feather caressed and teased his already full balls. With her other hand she began to slowly pump his cock. He moaned and cackled in pleasure and torture as she worked over him. She moved the feather from his balls and began to tickle his cock.
‘OH SHSITHAHAHHEHEHAHAHHEHEHEHEHHEEHEH OH GODHAHAHEHEHEHEHE.’ He screamed.
And the precum flowed. So much so she had to keep swapping out the feathers. He was so teased and leaky. He began to beg for it to stop, beg for mercy, beg to cum.
‘Oh baby wanna cum, ticklish baby boy want to shoot? Then confess!’ She said. She pumped his cock again, tickling his helpless balls as they bounced. He was close, she could feel it.
‘AHAHEHEHHAHAHA NO NEVER AHHEHAHHEHEHE!’ He squealed.
‘Fine then.’ She stopped pumping and went back to his feet and started tickling his feet. His cock lurched back and forth in denied need. He howled and screamed as his sensitive feet were assaulted again. She raked her nails up and down his arches. She urged him to confess and again he refused. She sucked each toe and asked again. He refused again.
A feather in each hand she went back up his side. She applied the feather to his balls again and other to the tip of his cock.
‘Cootchie cootchie coo, confess for me ticklish boy and ill let you cum.’ She stroked his shaft up and down as he wailed his refusal. She began to slowly edge him. When he got close she would ask him to confess and then tickled his helpless balls till he was ready to be edged again. He could barely speak by the third edge. All he could think about was he his need to shoot.
‘Tickle tickle, confess for me tickleslut!’ She demanded. HIs balls began to tighten, he was so close. She would have to stop soon. He knew he was doomed. No escape. Just relentless edging. The result was inevitable.
‘Oh my god, oh shit hahaheheheheheheh OK OK OK I CONFEmmmmmmmmmmmmm’
Before he could even get the words out she kissed him. Long and hard. She didn’t want to hear him finish the word. As she kissed she slipped off her jeans and panties. She mounted him swiftly and took him in motion. He was huge but her soaking pussy swallowed him up. She began to move up and down on him. They kissed as she took him. He thrusted hard, desperate to fill her. She held him towards her chest as she bounced on his cock, he devoured her neck. She shuddered as began to cum, the walls of her pussy milking him. He climaxed first and filled her. She wasn’t far behind with an orgasm that stole her strength.
Summer fell into Fall.
The next day she handed in her badge. She quite the force that day. Work related stress she claimed. A week later she moved out of her flat. Chairman in tow. Apparently she moved out of state. No-one knew.
Two months later. Rumours on another campus. Of young couples having their dorms broken into. They were always found the next day, bound together, often still fucking. A feather in each toe.They never wanted to press charges. Many hoped they would be visited by the Masked Ticklers.
The End
The Masked Tickler
It was the stuff of legend on campus. Rumours had been circulating widely on social media about him. This masked man who broke into young girls rooms, tied them up and… well if Twitter was to be believed tickled them. The girls were always found the next morning, usually by a dormmate or a warden. Naked, drenched in sweat and sound asleep, the only thing on their person became known as his calling card. White feathers pulled between each toe. Campus security would get involved and the police were called but the story was the same, no girl ever wanted to press charges. What was he doing to these girls to make them so scared?
‘It will be some frat boys getting their kicks, let the local campus guys sort it out.’ her boss had said. ‘It definitely doesn't need the time of a detective who's busy enough as it is.’
She had disagreed with him vehemently. What if he was hurting these girls? What if it turned nasty? He told her to drop it and get back to work. She swore under her breath and slumped at her desk. 5 girls in 4 weeks. This was more than just some frat dare. She had to keep digging.
Det. Summer could've passed for a student herself. Blonde hair, steel blue eyes and her 5” 6 frame gave her a cheerleader look. The sharp suit and badge said otherwise. She was a good and well respected detective, did things mostly by the book and was able to make connections others missed. She wasn't letting this one drop but it would have to wait till she got home.
She opened the door to her apartment. Chairman Meow came to greet her. Giving him a light pet she got undressed, put on her PJs and poured herself a glass of wine. Opening her laptop she began to dig deeper. She looked for connections between the victims. Other than their looks (all very pretty) they didn't have a whole lot in common. Different majors, different halls of residence and in one case not even English. Redheads, blondes and brunettes. Short girls, tall girls there wasn't a pattern. At least one she could see. He didn't even do it on the same day, one week he got two the other none. She wasn't even sure he was a he.
Her next lead was social media. Twitter had a slight buzz about the #maskedtickler mainly from parents wondering what the University was doing about it. Some students were speculating about which frat house was responsible and the student paper accused the women of making it up. Through the noise she spotted a conversation between to students with a link to a Facebook group. Clicking it led to a private Facebook group called the “White Feather Society’. She looked at its membership, all girls and all students. Summer created a fake profile in a few minutes and requested to join. She waited.
Her microwave went *ping* and she plated up her, frankly, disappointing dinner. By the time she had got back to her laptop she had been accepted into the group. 40 members all sharing rumours and stories about the Tickler with a pinned post right at the top. It was a confession from one of the girls! This could give her the clues she was looking for.
Hi, my name is Stacy and I was one of the girls who has been visited by the Tickler. I want to tell you what happened so you know what to expect. I went to bed as normal that night and fell asleep quite quickly. I didn't hear him come in and I didn't feel him strip me and tie me up. I don't know how he did it. He woke me up slowly. Saying my name. I woke up and saw him, dressed in black with a black mask over his eyes. He has blonde hair other than that I didn't get a good look at him but I think he's a bit of hunk. Anyways I tried to scream but he had gagged me. He said very softly that he wasn't going to hurt me or rape me and that when he was finished if I was upset he would tell me his name and let the cops arrest him.
Summer couldn't believe what she was reading.
I calmed down. I don't know why but I believed him. He went and knelt at my feet. He then showed me a white feather and tickled my feet. I am so ticklish. He tickled my feet for a long time, he would say stuff like cootchie coo and tell me how ticklish I was which made it worse. He spent a long time tickling my feet. He then moved the feather up my legs and around my hips. He was so careful and gentle. I was laughing alot. He got to my boobs and he tickled there as well. I didn't realise my nipples were ticklish. He spent a while there. It turned me on so much.
‘Holy shit’ Summers exclaimed.
My nipples were aching and I really wanted him. He went between my legs and he asked if it was OK if he tickled my clit. After I nodded he started tickling me right there. He just tickled my clit for ages. I was very close to coming but every time he seemed to know and stopped. He edged me 4 times.
After the 4th time he went back to my feet and kissed and sucked my toes. He licked my soles a bit and said I was beautiful. I've never has someone do that before but it was amazing. I think he has a foot fetish. Anyways after he had finished with my feet he went back to my pussy. He said calmly that I was going to come for him. He tickled me there. I came 3 times in the next hour I think.
I don’t know how long he took but he didn’t have sex with me, he seemed pretty focussed me to be honest, he didn’t even jerk off. When he was done I was exhausted. He came over and checked to make sure I was ok and I nodded. He then kept his promise and told me he would tell me his name if I felt upset. I shook my head. He kissed my forehead and then left out the window. The warden found me the next day.
I hope he comes back.
Summers took it all in. What had she just read? A man running around campus, tickling women to orgasm and none of them wanted to press charges. No it didn’t make sense, the girl was lying, trying to cover the fact he had clearly coerced her into something more and she wanted to take the guilt off by making up a fantasy story. Her tale had led to a lot of likes and comments from women desperate to meet him, but still no leads. She looked at the Facebook admin, her name was Beth Leach. A quick search using her database showed that she was a student living in a dorm on campus. Summers decided to pay her a visit. It wasn’t too late and she had nothing better to do. As she got off her sofa she felt a wetness in her panties. Fuck. She tried to put it in the back of her mind.
She arrived at 10pm. Showing her badge the warden he let her into the block. Leach was on the top floor. The place felt deserted. It was a Saturday, she thought, most of the residents would be out partying. As she walked down the hallway to Leach’s room she heard a muffled sound, straining she made out… laughter! She hurried to the source. It was Leach’s room, pressing against the door she heard a soft giggle and a moan. He must be in there now! She decided to burst in and surprise him. She twisted the handle found the room unlocked and she entered.
‘Freeze!’ She exclaimed and then immediately realised she had wasted her breath.
On the bed in front of her lay a small blonde with glasses. She had a round figure, flush and aroused. Her pants down by her ankles she had was applying a soft feather to her own pussy. In her mouth was a sock. She spat it out and shrieked as Summers entered!
‘Oh my God! Who the fuck are you get out!’ She screamed as she frantically tried to cover her modesty.
‘I'm s..sorry I thought you were b..being attacked’ Summers stammered.
‘Attacked?! Who the fuck are you and why did you come into my room? Fuck you ever heard of knocking?’ She pulled her panties up and discarded the feather, clearly deeply embarrassed by what she had been caught doing.
Summer composed herself and tried to regain control of the situation.
‘I'm Detective Summer I'm investigating the assaults that have been happening on campus. You’re Beth right? You admin a Facebook group about a predator called the Masked Ticker?’
‘Fuck. Yeah. Yeah I admin it but it's not a crime to do that is it? I mean I'm just sharing stories…’ Beth had turned a deeper red.
‘Calm down I'm not here to arrest you. I just want to know who he is and thought you may have discovered something. Do you know who he is?’ Summer enquired.
‘God I wish! No one knows who he is. We're just a fan club. He's never even visited me. I've tried working it out but he doesn't seem to leave any clues. Do you think he will visit me?’ Leach asked, more than a little hopefully.
‘We don’t know. Are you worried about him attacking you?’
‘Worried? No! I want him to visit. I mean doesn't he sound amazing!?’ Beth realised what she said, blushed, and looked at the floor. It dawned on Summer what she had interrupted as she had entered the room. A new approach was needed.
‘Beth I can understand what he is doing may sound fantastic. But we're worried that this may be a precursor to more serious assaults. His victims may be hiding his true nature for fear of reprisal. We don't want anyone getting hurt because of this do we?’
Beth was silent for a long time before she eventually said
‘No.’
‘Ok. Look you don't have to say anything now but if you know anything that might help us, or if you think you're in any danger you can ring me or stop by’ Summer was scribbling her number and home address on a piece of paper on Leach's desk.
‘This is my personal address so you can come and talk to me in confidence. You don't even need to come to a police station. Please think about it OK?’
‘OK… I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt.’ Muttered Beth.
‘I know. I'm gonna get going. Sorry for ...errr... interrupting your evening. Think about what I said.’
Beth said nothing but blushed again as Summer left. Driving home she pitied the kid. How messed up. How alone do you have to be to want a creep like him to visit you? I mean was she actually tickling her clit with that feather? Messed up. She arrived home to a hungry Chairman Meow. She fed him and went to bed. Her phone buzzed at 7:00am.
Summer. Get in pronto. Another girl attacked last night by Tickler. Campus going nuts. Victim doesn't want to press charges. Name: Leach, Beth.
Looks like her wish came true.
As quickly as she could she dressed and hit the road. 40 minutes later she was in the same room she was in hours before. Beth was sat on her bed wearing her PJ’s. A couple of campus wardens and police officers surrounded her. Her boss greeted her at the doorway.
‘Kid was found bound, naked and the usual fucking feather. This weirdos freaking out the University. They want it fixed. You need to find him. Drop everything else you're doing. Fucking fix this. Kid says she will only speak to you. And of course she's not pressing charges.’
Summer entered to see Leach clearly exhausted but very content. She was smiling as she walked up to her.
‘I don't want to press charges. I want everyone to go away.’ Leach said. Her voice sounded confident, no hint of fear.
Summer asked the officers to give her 5 minutes alone. They shuffled away closing the door behind. The detective kneeled in front of Leach and looked her in the eye. She saw nothing but happiness.
‘Please Beth. What happened?’ She asked.
Leach leaned in and whispered in Summer’s ear.
‘He. Was. Perfect.’
For the next 10 minutes she didn't say another word, only shaking her head when asked if he had hurt her or if he had sex with her. She slowly nodded and grinned when she was asked if she was sure she didn't want to press charges. It was no use. She wasn't going to be convinced.
The rest of the day was equally frustrating. No traces of a forced entry, other than an open window, no fingerprints, nothing in the area. Every victim had refused to let the authorities search their room. The University was working on that. Would take them too damn long.
Chinese tonight. Fuck cooking. Chairman gave her a look of approval as the food arrived. She sat and mulled over the day's events. What could he be doing to those girls to keep them silent. There must be something more to it. She looked at her notes, for the connection. Whatever it was, it wasn't forthcoming. She decided to sleep on it. Chairman agreed.
A warm night. No PJ's needed she thought as she settled into bed. This case was swimming around in her head. If she was honest she liked it like that. Focussing on work meant she didn't focus on other things. Like her big empty apartment. Her big empty bed. Her desire for more cats. The case kept looping in her head until she fell asleep. She didn't hear him come in.
‘Wake up Detective.’ The voice as so smooth and calming she didn't even freak out initially. She tried to move her hands, they were bound tight. A gag stopped her from screaming. The room was dark, she scanned around, nothing but shadows.
‘Good morning. Nice of you to join me.’ The voice said again. Confident and soothing. She tried to speak again but all she did was make a muffled mess.
‘You will forgive the gag my dear but we can't have you waking up the neighbours. It's for your own good really. You see I'm afraid you've been snooping around for too long Detective and it's interfering with my work. You're making me out to be some form of villain. When in fact I'm quite the opposite. You shall see.’
She saw a shadow move. It creeped closer to her feet and pulled up a chair. The covers were removed leaving her in her bra and panties. Her ankles and wrists had been tied to all four corners of the bed with silk ties. The shadow sat. It lifted something and waved it in the air. It was the silhouette of a feather. She gasped as it descended.
She felt it brush her right sole. Its teasingly and lazily stroked up and down her bare foot. Don't laugh, she thought, don't give the pervert the satisfaction. Its movement was slow and deliberate. Sliding up and down despite her desperate twitching. It fluttered over her toes. She was holding back so well. Then he said it.
‘Cootchie cootchie coo…’
It started as a giggle, it escaped the moment he finished saying it. She tried to get it back but it was out now. Another giggle followed and the feather danced in appreciation. It sawed between her toes. Another giggle, then another. Soon it was joined by her laughing more and more. She couldn't stop it.
‘Tickle tickle tickle. Such a ticklish little girl.’
She lost it.
Her laughter was a constant as the feather zipped up and down her helpless sole. He chuckled in delight as she tried to wriggle away to no avail. He watched her feet dance for his amusement as the feather kissed every part of her exposed foot. He brought a second feather into play for the other foot. Her feet danced some more for him. He was captivated.
‘That's much better now isn’t it dectective. Cootchie Cootchie coo.’
The tickle talk made it worse. She thrashed her head from side to side in a desperate attempt to scream. Her feet couldn’t evade his merciless touch. Her toes flexed and his feathers found her sensitive spots.The stroked and teased up and down her soles. She hadn’t been tickled since she was very young but she had always been sensitive, This was not helped by the fact that her job was desk based and she lotioned her feet most nights. It was something to do. The result was baby soft feet. A foot perv’s dream. The tickler was living that dream. He moved in as close as he could get to admire her wiggling soles. He couldn’t resist what happened next. Feathering one sole he began to lick her bare arch on the other. This opened up a new kind of torment for Summer. She screamed into the gag.
He grabbed her ankles and began to feast on her foot. He sucked every toe, hungry for her softness. He gave her arches loving licks and was spurred on by her delightful squeals. They were delicious. He grabbed the other foot and gave it a similar tongue bath. Summers went crazy. Her body hated and loved his soft warm tongue. Her brain screamed at her. Yes. No. Yes. No. He stopped only to resume feathering her soles. She screamed again. He took his time. The feathers provided a beautiful spectacle for him.
It felt like an eternity by the time he moved. He strode purposely and moved the chair to the side of the bed. She was breathing heavily, trying to recover as quickly as she could. She still couldn't make out any of his details really, he was tall, she had felt stubble on her toes as he had sucked them. That's all she got. He had brought his feathers with him.
‘You see detective, this is art. I’m not a monster. I’m an artist. You are a canvas. My works never complain. Neither will you.’
With those words he went to her tits. Summer was blessed with beautiful, round and larger than most breasts. Her nipples had already betrayed her and they were stiff and inviting. His feathers accepted their invitation. He sawed them slowly back and forth. Her reaction was beautiful. Laughter mixed with moans as he played her like a cellist. She screamed again as he flicked the tops of her nipples with the tips of his infernal feathers. She bucked and moaned as he then switched to long strokes.
‘Cootchie Cootchie Coo, such ticklish tits my dear. Tickle tickle, is the little baby ticklish?’
The tickle talk did not help at all. It filled her head and made every touch more unbearably. She was helpless and ticklish and he delighted in reminding her of it. Her nipples ached for more and she hated them for it. He was skilled at finding the balance between tickling and torture.
‘You’re helpless to resist detective. You’re mine to play with. Mine to torment. Tickle tickle.’
He leaned in and took a nipple in his mouth, ensuring he kept up his feather torment on the other. He sucked and slurped over her stiff bud. She moaned a deep, wanting moan. He chuckled. With a loving kiss he went back to his duel feather attack. She screamed again, but this time there was frustration in her voice.
‘Is my ticklish girl enjoying herself? Cootchie cootchie coo.’
She hated him. She hated him so much. She wanted him. She wanted him so much more. She was so ticklish and he was playing her so well. Is this what he did to those girls? Had they been telling the truth all along. Was she just a canvas for his ‘art’? Was she sick that she wanted to be his latest work?
She didn’t give her time to properly process this information as he came onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs. Moving swiftly and without a word being said, he parted her pussy lips.
‘My dear. You’re soaking.’ She couldn't look at him. She was red with shame.
Chuckling again he brought his feather down to her clit. It was erect and demanding attention. The feather kissed it gently. She babbled into her gag, trying desperately to scream for mercy, not there, please not there. It was no good. The feather flicked up and down her clit. She screamed again as it tickled unlike anything she had felt before. Her clit welcomed the torment and began to throb for more. He happily obliged. Her hips bucked and thrashed so with one hand he put pinned her hips down. He was strong yet his touch was gentle. He was in control. He moved the feather fast over her soaking sex. A few strokes and he swapped the feathers for a fresh one. Her torment was relentless.
‘Tickle tickle little one. Does someone like having her clitty tickled? Cootchie Cootchie Coo.’
Her breath began to shorten, she was going to cum. He was going to make her cum. There was nothing she could do. He was doing it so well, her clit was aching for it, just a few more strokes. She braced herself.
He stopped.
It was a deep grunt that came from her throat. Something primal. She was desperate and he had stopped. She looked at him, she caught his eyes. Deep brown eyes stared back at her. He moved back to her feet and began sucking tonguing her soles again. Somehow her feet had become more sensitive. Laughter poured into her gag, she felt the first bit of drool go down her cheek. He sucked each toe, lovingly, moaning deeply himself. She tried in vain to free herself from her bonds to no avail. He made love to her feet. She squealed and moaned.
It may have been 20 minutes but it felt like two hours before he emerged from her feet. She was a sweaty wreck. He moved back between her legs. He looked at her.
‘Now this is important. My work must always make a choice. My dear detective, you have a choice. I can tickle you with this feather until you cum or you can say no and I will leave you now. It is your choice. What will it be? Do you want the feathers kiss?’
She couldn’t believe it when she slowly nodded. He smiled. He leaned in, parted her womanhood and again applied the feather. A long moan came from the gagged detective and she moved her hips closer to his cruel tool. He flicked the tip of the feather up and down her clit, glistening and erect. She squealed again as he increased the tempo. Fast strokes now surrounded her nub and she began to buck in rhythm with the flicks. So soft and tickly she wasn’t even sure if she could cum with just the lightness of the feather. Her question was about to answered. He was going to drag this orgasm out of her. Screaming. She began to shake, her breathe deep and fast. He kept up the pace, determined to bring her to climax with just the one feather. A long, teasing orgasm.
‘Cum for me detective. Cootchie cootchie coo!’
That did it. She screamed. She shook. She felt it grip her from her toes up to her head. The orgasm washed over her again and again with each new stroke of the feather. She arched her back and let out one more groan. She was spent. But he wasn’t done. He kept going, faster strokes and she kept squealing. She bucked and moaned, she tried to cry for mercy. He wasn’t in a mercy mood. Soon she came again.
And again.
And again.
She collapsed. The last thing she heard before she slept was ‘...goodnight detective.’
She awoke with a start. Had she dreamed it? No gag in her mouth, her arms and feet were free. She tried t move, her muscles ached. On her belly she saw it. A single white feather. Fuck. She was exhausted. How long had she been out for? It was light, maybe a few hours. Fuck fuck fuck. How had she been so stupid. The creep clearly found her address from the note she left Leach! Fucker. She moved out of bed and paused. She ached, so tired and yet… No. No.
And yet she felt wonderful. Content, satisfied. What had he done to her. She hated herself. She was more determined to bring him in. Maybe he had drugged her or something. She refused to believe that she loved every second. She searched her room, for something. Anything. How did he get in? She went to her door.
Oh.
She hadn’t locked her door. What a fucking idiot. She had practically invited him in. Shit. He just let himself in and had his way with her. Not even a sign of a break-in. Why didn’t she just give him a key next time.
Wait.
A key.
30 minutes she was at the campus warden's office. She spoke to the head warden. Every warden had access to every room. There was a master key they all had in case of emergency. She demanded to see a rota for the last month. The warden complained, the Tickler had come in through the window, each room had an open window that’s how he gained entry.
‘No. Each room had a window opened.’ she explained.
She looked at the rota, she was looking for wardend not on duty during the tasks. 8 names popped up. Two female so she had a shortlist of 6. She asked to see their employment records. He refused but the threat of a warrant change his mind. They each had a photo, none of them had a beard. Damn. She couldn’t arrest them all, heck unless she reported her own attack she couldn't arrest any of them. She couldn’t tell anyone what happened, she wouldn’t live it down. She looked at their CV’s. They were all pretty similar, high school drop outs mainly. Guys with kids. Accept one. Dropped out of university 7 years ago. What did he study?
Modern Art.
It’s him. She knew it.
David Fall. He had been recruited a year ago. Great worker, kept himself to himself according to his boss. He wasn’t at work today. She got his address and got in her car. Time for a home visit.
He lived a good 40 minutes away. On the way her mind raced. She had no warrant, no real evidence, just a hunch. What was she going to do when she got there? Hope he just confesses? She parked up just down from his address. She was trying to figure out the play when she saw him. He came out to empty the garbage. He had a beard. Tall, 6”3. Muscular too. Heck he was cute. It must be him. He went back inside.
She got out of her car and approached his home. Nice place, she thought, small but nice. She approached the front door and thought better of it. She snuck around the back. She tested his back door. Open, just her luck, she went inside. She had expected a den, like a dungeon of some sort. She was greeted by a perfectly normal kitchen. She heard a tv playing in the front room. She moved closer.
She saw him. Sitting watching the game. The Cougars were winning but she expected them to toss it away before the 7th inning. FUCKING FOCUS. She reached for her holster, what was she going to do, shoot the guy? She let out small sigh as she found an empty space where her pistol should be. He moved up off the couch, she ducked back into the kitchen. She heard him move towards her, she hid behind the door. She couldn’t believe he didn't see her as he started to make himself a sandwich. She didn’t breathe as he moved. He eventually took a seat in a wooden chair. He took a few bites and leaned back in his chair.
This was her moment. Without thinking she grabbed her cuffs from her waist and grabbed his hands and moved them behind the chair. She cuffed him quick, working them between the wooden bars. He was stuck.
‘What the fuck?!’ He exclaimed.
Moving quickly she put him in a sleeper hold. She had always wondered if it would work. He struggled for a bit before he lost consciousness. She had made her mind up. Only one way to settle this. She got another wooden chair, she put his feet though the wooden back support bars. Finding a necktie she tightly bound them in place. Satisfied that he was secure she began to search the house. 5 minutes into her search she began to panic. No evidence, nothing. What if she had got it wrong. Fuck. Her search got desperate.
As she began to give up hope and started mentally writing her resignation letter she moved back through to the kitchen. On her way she passed the front door. Wait, a bag. A black bag. She opened it.
Bingo.
Dozens of soft white feathers. Time to wake this pervert up. Bringing the bag with her she found him still blacked out in the kitchen. She slapped him.
‘Wake up perv.’ She said.
He snorted into life.
‘What the fuck! What the hell have you done to me?’ He yelled.
‘The same fucking thing you have been doing to innocent women these past weeks.’ She replied calmly.
‘What are you on about?’ He said.
‘Don’t fucking play cute with me, i’ve found the bag, i’ve found the feathers.’ She replied.
‘Really? Do you want to know what I see? I see a detective who has broken into someone's home without a warrant, searched his home illegally, to find evidence to a crime no one has reported. I see a case that will get thrown out of court faster than the detective will lose her badge.’ He said, he had regained his composure and spoke with an authority which she recognised from last night.
‘Well… erm…’ she stuttered. Fuck he had her. Then she saw the bag. ‘I guess i’ll just have to make you confess.’ She moved towards it.
‘Why the hell would I do that? What are you doing?’ He asked, he sounded nervous.
She reached into the bag and pulled out a feather.
‘Because i’m guessing i have have you begging to talk.’ She said twirling the feather. This was a gamble, what if the perv wasn’t even ticklish. Well, only way to know. She moved herself and the feather towards his bare feet.
‘Wait no. Stop. Don’t do that.’ He said, confidence had been replaced by pleading.
She slowly, deliberately stroked the feather over his sole. His feet twitched. She kept her eyes locked on his. He bit his lip. She snaked the feather around his foot, he closed his eyes, she kept staring. She fluttered it around his toes. He began to shake. Then she remembered something.
‘Oh. Cootchie cootchie cooooooo.’ She said seductively. It worked.
‘Hahahehehehehehehhe on no hehehahahehehhe eplease no hahahehehehe.’ His laughter escaped and he couldn’t bring it back. She giggled as made the feather have a merry dance over both his soles. They tried to wriggle free but she patiently attacked them. The feather licked his sensitive soles. He laughed and howled as his feet were tormented.
‘Hahehehehhe eoh god please hahehehehehehe no not that ahaheheh!’ He howled.
‘Awww whats the matter is the widdle perv ticklish on his feet? Tickle tickle tickle!’ She had to admit, this was fun.
Retrieving another feather now she used two of them to stroke each of his bare soles. Up and down, caressing and teasing his exposed flesh. His arches danced for her like hers had danced for him. She was hooked on his response. She worked them between his toes and giggled when he screamed for mercy. She put down the feathers. She had a game to play. She grabbed his big toe on his right foot.
‘This little piggy went to market.’ She said.
‘Fuck no’ he gasped.
‘And this little piggy stayed at home.’ She continued moving down his toes. They tried to wriggle away. They failed.
‘This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none.’ She said her fingers moving slowly further down.
‘Please please please please no.’ he said, desperate.
‘And this little piggy went………….’ She paused. His feet tensed. ‘Weeeeee weeeeeee weeeeeeee all the way home!’ With that she raked her nails all over his big feet. They wriggled and scribbled all around his soft skin and scratched between his toes. When they scrunched shut, she flexed them back to continue the torment.
‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhehehehehehehe oh God Mercy ahahehehehahahehehehe!’
She had no interest in mercy. She used her fingers as devilish weapons of his naked flesh. Dancing between arches and toes, he didn’t have time to adjust to the sensations. He simply cackled and laughed as she played with his feet. She introduced her tongue on his arches and he howled again. She had to admit he had soft tender skin. It seemed to coax her. To do more devious things to him. She looked at his face, tears were streaming down his face, his laughter had turned almost silent. Yet there was something else. Desire. She looked at his jeans. He was enjoying his torment.
She got up and unbuckled his jeans. He didn’t have the strength to protest any more. She yanked them along with his boxers. His rock hard cock jumped out to great her. He was so stiff. She was impressed. With a feather she reached underneath and began to tickle his balls. He became vocal again.
‘HAHAHAHHEHEHAHEHHE OMG NOT THERE OH AHIT AHAHEHEHHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHE FUCK NOT MY BALLSHAHAHEHEHEHE.’
‘Ohhhh there's a spot, the baby got ticklish balls! Cootchie Cootchie Coo!’ She said in delight. The tickle lust had gripped her. He looked at him and saw a beautiful canvas. She wanted to paint him. The feather caressed and teased his already full balls. With her other hand she began to slowly pump his cock. He moaned and cackled in pleasure and torture as she worked over him. She moved the feather from his balls and began to tickle his cock.
‘OH SHSITHAHAHHEHEHAHAHHEHEHEHEHHEEHEH OH GODHAHAHEHEHEHEHE.’ He screamed.
And the precum flowed. So much so she had to keep swapping out the feathers. He was so teased and leaky. He began to beg for it to stop, beg for mercy, beg to cum.
‘Oh baby wanna cum, ticklish baby boy want to shoot? Then confess!’ She said. She pumped his cock again, tickling his helpless balls as they bounced. He was close, she could feel it.
‘AHAHEHEHHAHAHA NO NEVER AHHEHAHHEHEHE!’ He squealed.
‘Fine then.’ She stopped pumping and went back to his feet and started tickling his feet. His cock lurched back and forth in denied need. He howled and screamed as his sensitive feet were assaulted again. She raked her nails up and down his arches. She urged him to confess and again he refused. She sucked each toe and asked again. He refused again.
A feather in each hand she went back up his side. She applied the feather to his balls again and other to the tip of his cock.
‘Cootchie cootchie coo, confess for me ticklish boy and ill let you cum.’ She stroked his shaft up and down as he wailed his refusal. She began to slowly edge him. When he got close she would ask him to confess and then tickled his helpless balls till he was ready to be edged again. He could barely speak by the third edge. All he could think about was he his need to shoot.
‘Tickle tickle, confess for me tickleslut!’ She demanded. HIs balls began to tighten, he was so close. She would have to stop soon. He knew he was doomed. No escape. Just relentless edging. The result was inevitable.
‘Oh my god, oh shit hahaheheheheheheh OK OK OK I CONFEmmmmmmmmmmmmm’
Before he could even get the words out she kissed him. Long and hard. She didn’t want to hear him finish the word. As she kissed she slipped off her jeans and panties. She mounted him swiftly and took him in motion. He was huge but her soaking pussy swallowed him up. She began to move up and down on him. They kissed as she took him. He thrusted hard, desperate to fill her. She held him towards her chest as she bounced on his cock, he devoured her neck. She shuddered as began to cum, the walls of her pussy milking him. He climaxed first and filled her. She wasn’t far behind with an orgasm that stole her strength.
Summer fell into Fall.
The next day she handed in her badge. She quite the force that day. Work related stress she claimed. A week later she moved out of her flat. Chairman in tow. Apparently she moved out of state. No-one knew.
Two months later. Rumours on another campus. Of young couples having their dorms broken into. They were always found the next day, bound together, often still fucking. A feather in each toe.They never wanted to press charges. Many hoped they would be visited by the Masked Ticklers.
The End
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