PeterVincentTGVK
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2007
- Messages
- 1,065
- Points
- 38
I am so proud to introduce this new tickle fiction book! Due to the wonderful response I received from my Leopard Laughs stories, I have decided to expand that universe with this tale of heroes, villains, and ticklish, sexual frenzy!
When a mysterious woman infiltrates Atlas Penitentiary and releases all of the inmates, including Jessica Jester, Ellie Wisden/The Leopard and Jack Leiberman/Ricochet, must work together and fight their way through a slew of perverted psychos and lascivious lowlifes to uncover a plot of destruction that will affect all of Atlas City!
Estelle Beauregard seemed calm as she was loaded into the back of the prison transport van. James had only been with the department for just under two years, but in that time, he had seen many men and women being ordered into the van in handcuffs. And Atlas City had no shortage of costumed wacko criminals. He thought he had seen everything. But one thing he hadn't seen was somebody go so willingly. Or blindfolded, for that matter. She may as well have been being guided towards the firing squad with the hood of her coat up and the blindfold over her eyes.
“Hey, don't be fooled by this one.” Frank, his superior officer nudged him in the arm. “You don't touch her. You don't let her close enough to touch you.”
“Why would I let any prisoner touch me?” James asked smugly.
“Hey!” Frank grabbed his arm tight, like a date might during a scary movie. His eyes were intense. “I'm not kidding around. You keep that bitch at bay. That blindfold doesn't come off. You don't even talk to her. And if she tries to talk to you...” Frank looked down briefly at James' Glock 17 strapped to his hip. “...You paste her one. Right across the mouth. Nobody will blame you. In fact, if you feel like it... you can take that pea shooter and make sure that she doesn't even reach the prison. I'll back you.”
James had never seen Frank like this. He was angry, but also more than a little scared. His usually world weary eyes were bloodshot and intense.
“What's the deal with this woman?” James couldn't help but ask. He usually didn't care. But Frank was acting so damn strange. “She doesn't look like much of a fighter.”
“I don't know how she did it.” Frank never eased his grip. “But this woman walked right into First Financial yesterday and after only five minutes, everyone else in there was dead. They had killed each other. It was a total massacre. Blood everywhere. Everyone was dead. Except her. She didn't have a drop of blood on her. One of the tellers had ink pens in his eyes and she didn't have a Goddamn scratch! When we got there and fitted her with the silver bracelets, she only said one thing. I'll remember it for as long as I live.”
“What did she say?”
“Bank manager got hot under the collar.”
Once the van had left the station, James thought about Frank's story as he sat across from the Estelle. As tense as he was, her calm disposition made him even more uneasy. What had really happened in that bank? Could one woman really cause that much devastation? What if she...
“Would you mind?” She spoke quietly. He instinctively reached for his gun, but stopped. This was crazy. All she did was say three words. It's not as if he was sharing a space with Satan himself.
“Ma'am, I'm not supposed to talk to you.” He told her. “Please be quiet.”
“Ma'am?” Her voice sounded collected and civil. “What a polite young man. I'm Estelle. What's your name?”
He wasn't sure why he told her. “James. James Galvin.”
“Well, James Galvin, All I was going to ask is if you could take this blindfold off.” She requested.
“No.” He denied. It was bad enough that he was talking to her after what Frank had said to him.
“No?”
“No, Ma'am.”
“There's that “Ma'am” again. Surely you don't think of me as that old, do you? How old do you think I am?” She seemed as though she was fishing for a compliment, and James felt compelled to oblige her.
“I can't tell.”
“Maybe it would help if you...”
“No!” He raised his voice slightly. “I will not take the blindfold off of you. Now just sit and be quiet.”
“It's such a trivial thing. But yet, so potentially embarrassing. Social etiquette, I mean. Is it polite to ask a lady her age?” She mused. “Have you ever been told that? That it's impolite?”
James thought back to the Sixth grade. It was the first day of the school year. New school. New kids. New teachers. He remembered his math teacher, Mrs. Buart. She had been so distinctive. A reasonably young face but grey... almost white... hair. He recalled when he asked her how old she was when class began. He was only 11. He didn't know any better. She had chastised him in front of the entire class. The other boys laughed at him. The girls rolled their eyes. It was the first time he had ever been the butt of a joke. That he had felt truly humiliated.
Suddenly, he realized that he had gotten up and removed Estelle's blindfold. How did that happen? He didn't even remember doing it. He was thinking about Sixth grade and Mrs. Buart and the next thing he knew, he had removed the blindfold.
“Thank you.” She graciously offered her gratitude. Her eyes were blue. He couldn't believe how blue they were. They seemed to pierce right through him when her gaze met his. “So... how old do you think I am? It's okay. I won't judge your answer.” The very sound of her voice somehow soothed him. He forgot all about his childhood memory as he looked into those blue eyes. He felt as though he could swim in them. She was fairly attractive. Her lips were full but curved. Her nose was a little pointy, but her cheekbones were perfectly formed and her skin looked impossibly soft, minus the few slight wrinkles. She appeared to be what his old Frat buddies would have called a MILF.
“Early 40's maybe...” He guessed. Why was he still talking to her? Why couldn't he control himself?
“I'm 42.” She clarified. “You were right on the money, as they say.”
She seemed so nice. James began to wonder if they had the right woman in the van. He couldn't imagine this woman even killing a spider.
“And how old are you, James?”
“23.” He replied.
“Oh, you're just a baby. What are you doing in such a dangerous job?” She seemed genuinely concerned. James was single and didn't keep in contact with his parents as much as he knew he should. To have someone so worried for him made him feel good. He wasn't used to it.
“It's what I've always wanted to do.” He answered simply.
“I suppose that's all that matters. At least you aren't impolite.” That last word seemed to stick with him.
The van came to a stop. They must have made it to Atlas Penitentiary already. That didn't take long at all, James thought.
“I think you had better put this blindfold back over my eyes. We wouldn't want you to get in trouble, would we?” Estelle suggested. She was right. James got up and put the cloth back over her eyes. The driver and an additional guard opened the back door of the van right as he finished.
“Alright. End of the line, Galvin” The driver said. “We will walk in with you if you like.”
“No. No...” He assured. “I can take her from here.” The driver stepped up into the van so that he and James could help Estelle out.
Atlas Penitentiary looked more like a cathedral than a prison. The Gothic architecture was more than a little eye-catching, with the bell tower right in the center of the courtyard. It was cloudy, but on a clear night, the tower could be seen from the city.
“Place gives me the creeps.” The driver said.
“How ironic.” James replied. “It's full of creeps as well.”
Once inside, James walked Estelle to the front desk. It wasn't lost on him how much it felt like helping someone check into a room in a hotel. It was just that this hotel was full of psychos and crooks. He still wasn't sure why Estelle belonged here, but his orders were his orders. He knew the female officer at the desk, Officer Lin. She was the guard he normally dealt with when transporting perps.
“Hey, Galvin. Who you got for me?” She tapped a ball point pen against the clip board on the desk in front of her.
“Estelle Beauregard.” When he said her name, Lin's expression turned from weary boredom to deep interest.
“This is the woman from the bank?” James watched as Lin seemed to go pale. He watched as she beckoned another guard over. James didn't know this one. He was very muscular. He could have been a wrestler or a stunt man in another life. “Officer Galvin, meet Officer Kael.” Lin introduced them, turning to Kael. “This is the woman from the bank. The one Warden Daniels told us about earlier.”
“I didn't realize I was so popular.” Estelle joked quietly.
“Hey!” Kael nearly yelled. “You're not supposed to say shit to us! Do you understand!?” Kael and Lin had been told exactly the same thing that Frank had told James.
“Oh my... Such an outburst...” She jumped at Kael's raised voice. “James, didn't that seem impolite?”
Impolite... Impolite... Impolite...
The word rang in James' ear like an alarm waking him from a deep sleep. Something came over him. Suddenly, Kael wasn't a prison guard. He was Mrs. Buart. He was every one of those kids who had laughed at James in his youth. He was the enemy. Those thoughts galloped through James' brain as he fired five bullets into Kael's chest. Lin reached for her weapon but James was faster, shooting her right in the temple.
Jessica Jester sat on the cot in her cell with her back to the wall and her knees to her chest. While there was nothing alluring about her orange prison jumpsuit, she was cute as a button without her make-up. Upon first glance, you'd have thought she was just your average girl next door. Of course, that had always been more or less the point with her. The pretty ones and the crazy ones were often the same in Atlas City. She was still seething over her last encounter with The Leopard.
Three times now, Jessica had known The Leopard's fatal weakness and yet she still failed to eliminate the heroine. She had come so close back in the costume shop. And the best part is that, if the plan had worked, Jessica wouldn't even have actually been the one to kill the crime fighter. Ricochet would have.
Jessica wondered what had become of her two helpers, Lefty and Righty. For all she knew, they had been transported back to wherever they came from to face justice. And God knows where that might have been. She might have lost them for good. The thought depressed her. And she hated being depressed. She couldn't wait to get her hands on The Leopard again... to say nothing of her nails, her feathers, a hairbrush maybe for those soles...
BANG! BANG BANG!
“Popcorn?” She turned to look through the bars of her cell. “No... that's... gunfire!”” She clapped giddily. Perhaps there was some kind of revolt or riot going on! As the sounds grew closer and closer, Jessica turned her ear to the hall. “Mmm... Sounds like a Glock 18.” She sighed like a teen hearing the voice of her crush.
“Glock 17, child.” A woman's voice corrected. Jessica looked on as Estelle approached her cell. James was behind her, brainwashed into becoming Estelle's own personal bodyguard.
Jessica stood up and stepped slowly towards the bars. When she saw Estelle, something happened. Her expression showed hope, confusion, longing, and curiosity, all melted together in an instant of happiness.
“Mom?” Jessica asked. “What are you doing here?”
On the other side of Atlas City, an altogether different kind of weapon was cocked and ready to fire. This one was located between the legs of Jack Leiberman, a.k.a., Ricochet. The infamous assassin wasn't wearing his mask at the moment, or anything else. He was laying on Ellie Wisden's bed as she put on a show for him. It was quite a show, too. For the last 20 minutes or so, she had been stroking her naked H cup breasts with a pink feather. He had watched as her nipples hardened and heard each little involuntary giggle when the feather touched on a tickle spot, like the areola or the underside of a breast.
Ellie Wisden was known better around Atlas City as The Leopard. She was an investigative journalist by day, and a costumed crime fighter by night. But on this night, she was tickling herself for Ricochet's viewing pleasure. She saw his penis grow and become erect as she performed for him.
“It's so interesting that this turns you on.” She smiled, tossing her blonde hair back. “Before that night with us and Jessica in that costume shop, I didn't even know that the tickle fetish was a thing. I mean, I had heard of it, but it sounded like something that somebody just made up. I didn't know it was real.”
“It's real.” He nodded, unable to take his eyes off of her as she playfully bounced her boobs in front of him for a moment.
“I can see that.” She glanced at his manhood, purple and rigid, jutting towards her ceiling. “So what is it about this that gets your goat?”
“It's hard to explain.” He replied. “It's something about how it makes people controllable, I think. It's not like traditional tortures or BDSM activities. It can be done by just about anybody to just about anybody. To weaken a person so much with just one well placed poke or touch...”
“So, it's about control.” She reasoned. “Domination.”
“Well, yeah, it can be.” He agreed. “But for me... I dunno. It's been something else.”
“I don't under-eep!” She gave a faint yelp when the feather touched between the side of her right breast and the ribs there. “Sorry. Hahaha. I mean I don't understand. I mean, how did it start for you? Do you remember?”
“I remember I was a kid. Maybe 9 or 10. I used to set my alarm and get up at 6 AM every Saturday...”
“Yeesh.” Ellie interrupted. “I don't think I ever got up that early as a kid.”
“I did it because my favorite show was on early. Razorboy And Firegirl?”
“It sounds familiar but I don't think I ever saw it.” She admitted, still feathering her breasts. Ricochet was temporarily distracted as he watched goosebumps appear along the tops of them.
“Anyways...” He collected himself. “At one point, Firegirl was captured and the villain... I can't remember the character's name... but the villain tickled her feet with a feather as an interrogation method. At that moment, something snapped in me. When she laughed and I heard the giggling, but it was mixed with such... anxiety... Something about that sound... I can't place it.
“Well, I guess that explains why you like watching girls being tickled.” She acknowledged. “But you also get hard when you are tickled. I don't quite get that.”
“That's a different story altogether.” He said, somewhat evading the implied question.
“I'd like to hear it.” She said with a twinkle in her eye. She started to scoot closer to him. “Or do I have to tickle it out of you?” When she approached with her mischievous smile, a nervous chuckle slipped through his lips. “What's wrong? Afraid of my feather?” She teased.
Just before she could touch him with the soft implement, her cell phone went off.
“What's that?” He asked. She jumped off of the bed.
“That alarm sounds whenever I get news of a crime.” She explained. “It's linked directly to my office computer at work.” She grabbed her phone. “Oh no.”
“What? What is it?” He climbed off of the bed as well, disregarding his visible arousal.
“Reports of gunfire at Atlas Penitentiary.” Ellie said. “Apparently, the police can't even get near the building. Four squad cars have been... turned to stone.”
“It's May.” He told her. He grabbed his cargo pants and put them on, sitting back on the bed as he did.
“What are you talking about? It's September.” She corrected.
“No, I mean May.” He shook his head. “May Duza. Former Mary Kay type who likes to turn shit to stone. I captured her alive a couple months ago when I first came into town. Sounds like she got loose.”
“Oh Jesus.” Ellie groaned. “That means the whole prison could be at her mercy. We have to go.”
“I'm already two steps ahead of you.” He stated.
“How so?” She looked up from her phone to see him fully dressed.
“I've got a shirt on, for one.” He smirked.
This campy tale of superheroes and super tickles contains:
M/F, F/F, and F/M tickling
Casual and erotic tickling
Resistance
Self tickling
Foot, stomach, genital, and full body tickling
Vaginal intercourse
Mammary intercourse
Voyeurism
Hypnotism
Verbal teasing (tickle talk)
Scenes of desperation
...And more...
Get your copy now and, as always, thank you for reading! http://www.lulu.com/shop/shellie-fe...ghs-the-mesmerist/ebook/product-23506091.html
When a mysterious woman infiltrates Atlas Penitentiary and releases all of the inmates, including Jessica Jester, Ellie Wisden/The Leopard and Jack Leiberman/Ricochet, must work together and fight their way through a slew of perverted psychos and lascivious lowlifes to uncover a plot of destruction that will affect all of Atlas City!
Estelle Beauregard seemed calm as she was loaded into the back of the prison transport van. James had only been with the department for just under two years, but in that time, he had seen many men and women being ordered into the van in handcuffs. And Atlas City had no shortage of costumed wacko criminals. He thought he had seen everything. But one thing he hadn't seen was somebody go so willingly. Or blindfolded, for that matter. She may as well have been being guided towards the firing squad with the hood of her coat up and the blindfold over her eyes.
“Hey, don't be fooled by this one.” Frank, his superior officer nudged him in the arm. “You don't touch her. You don't let her close enough to touch you.”
“Why would I let any prisoner touch me?” James asked smugly.
“Hey!” Frank grabbed his arm tight, like a date might during a scary movie. His eyes were intense. “I'm not kidding around. You keep that bitch at bay. That blindfold doesn't come off. You don't even talk to her. And if she tries to talk to you...” Frank looked down briefly at James' Glock 17 strapped to his hip. “...You paste her one. Right across the mouth. Nobody will blame you. In fact, if you feel like it... you can take that pea shooter and make sure that she doesn't even reach the prison. I'll back you.”
James had never seen Frank like this. He was angry, but also more than a little scared. His usually world weary eyes were bloodshot and intense.
“What's the deal with this woman?” James couldn't help but ask. He usually didn't care. But Frank was acting so damn strange. “She doesn't look like much of a fighter.”
“I don't know how she did it.” Frank never eased his grip. “But this woman walked right into First Financial yesterday and after only five minutes, everyone else in there was dead. They had killed each other. It was a total massacre. Blood everywhere. Everyone was dead. Except her. She didn't have a drop of blood on her. One of the tellers had ink pens in his eyes and she didn't have a Goddamn scratch! When we got there and fitted her with the silver bracelets, she only said one thing. I'll remember it for as long as I live.”
“What did she say?”
“Bank manager got hot under the collar.”
Once the van had left the station, James thought about Frank's story as he sat across from the Estelle. As tense as he was, her calm disposition made him even more uneasy. What had really happened in that bank? Could one woman really cause that much devastation? What if she...
“Would you mind?” She spoke quietly. He instinctively reached for his gun, but stopped. This was crazy. All she did was say three words. It's not as if he was sharing a space with Satan himself.
“Ma'am, I'm not supposed to talk to you.” He told her. “Please be quiet.”
“Ma'am?” Her voice sounded collected and civil. “What a polite young man. I'm Estelle. What's your name?”
He wasn't sure why he told her. “James. James Galvin.”
“Well, James Galvin, All I was going to ask is if you could take this blindfold off.” She requested.
“No.” He denied. It was bad enough that he was talking to her after what Frank had said to him.
“No?”
“No, Ma'am.”
“There's that “Ma'am” again. Surely you don't think of me as that old, do you? How old do you think I am?” She seemed as though she was fishing for a compliment, and James felt compelled to oblige her.
“I can't tell.”
“Maybe it would help if you...”
“No!” He raised his voice slightly. “I will not take the blindfold off of you. Now just sit and be quiet.”
“It's such a trivial thing. But yet, so potentially embarrassing. Social etiquette, I mean. Is it polite to ask a lady her age?” She mused. “Have you ever been told that? That it's impolite?”
James thought back to the Sixth grade. It was the first day of the school year. New school. New kids. New teachers. He remembered his math teacher, Mrs. Buart. She had been so distinctive. A reasonably young face but grey... almost white... hair. He recalled when he asked her how old she was when class began. He was only 11. He didn't know any better. She had chastised him in front of the entire class. The other boys laughed at him. The girls rolled their eyes. It was the first time he had ever been the butt of a joke. That he had felt truly humiliated.
Suddenly, he realized that he had gotten up and removed Estelle's blindfold. How did that happen? He didn't even remember doing it. He was thinking about Sixth grade and Mrs. Buart and the next thing he knew, he had removed the blindfold.
“Thank you.” She graciously offered her gratitude. Her eyes were blue. He couldn't believe how blue they were. They seemed to pierce right through him when her gaze met his. “So... how old do you think I am? It's okay. I won't judge your answer.” The very sound of her voice somehow soothed him. He forgot all about his childhood memory as he looked into those blue eyes. He felt as though he could swim in them. She was fairly attractive. Her lips were full but curved. Her nose was a little pointy, but her cheekbones were perfectly formed and her skin looked impossibly soft, minus the few slight wrinkles. She appeared to be what his old Frat buddies would have called a MILF.
“Early 40's maybe...” He guessed. Why was he still talking to her? Why couldn't he control himself?
“I'm 42.” She clarified. “You were right on the money, as they say.”
She seemed so nice. James began to wonder if they had the right woman in the van. He couldn't imagine this woman even killing a spider.
“And how old are you, James?”
“23.” He replied.
“Oh, you're just a baby. What are you doing in such a dangerous job?” She seemed genuinely concerned. James was single and didn't keep in contact with his parents as much as he knew he should. To have someone so worried for him made him feel good. He wasn't used to it.
“It's what I've always wanted to do.” He answered simply.
“I suppose that's all that matters. At least you aren't impolite.” That last word seemed to stick with him.
The van came to a stop. They must have made it to Atlas Penitentiary already. That didn't take long at all, James thought.
“I think you had better put this blindfold back over my eyes. We wouldn't want you to get in trouble, would we?” Estelle suggested. She was right. James got up and put the cloth back over her eyes. The driver and an additional guard opened the back door of the van right as he finished.
“Alright. End of the line, Galvin” The driver said. “We will walk in with you if you like.”
“No. No...” He assured. “I can take her from here.” The driver stepped up into the van so that he and James could help Estelle out.
Atlas Penitentiary looked more like a cathedral than a prison. The Gothic architecture was more than a little eye-catching, with the bell tower right in the center of the courtyard. It was cloudy, but on a clear night, the tower could be seen from the city.
“Place gives me the creeps.” The driver said.
“How ironic.” James replied. “It's full of creeps as well.”
Once inside, James walked Estelle to the front desk. It wasn't lost on him how much it felt like helping someone check into a room in a hotel. It was just that this hotel was full of psychos and crooks. He still wasn't sure why Estelle belonged here, but his orders were his orders. He knew the female officer at the desk, Officer Lin. She was the guard he normally dealt with when transporting perps.
“Hey, Galvin. Who you got for me?” She tapped a ball point pen against the clip board on the desk in front of her.
“Estelle Beauregard.” When he said her name, Lin's expression turned from weary boredom to deep interest.
“This is the woman from the bank?” James watched as Lin seemed to go pale. He watched as she beckoned another guard over. James didn't know this one. He was very muscular. He could have been a wrestler or a stunt man in another life. “Officer Galvin, meet Officer Kael.” Lin introduced them, turning to Kael. “This is the woman from the bank. The one Warden Daniels told us about earlier.”
“I didn't realize I was so popular.” Estelle joked quietly.
“Hey!” Kael nearly yelled. “You're not supposed to say shit to us! Do you understand!?” Kael and Lin had been told exactly the same thing that Frank had told James.
“Oh my... Such an outburst...” She jumped at Kael's raised voice. “James, didn't that seem impolite?”
Impolite... Impolite... Impolite...
The word rang in James' ear like an alarm waking him from a deep sleep. Something came over him. Suddenly, Kael wasn't a prison guard. He was Mrs. Buart. He was every one of those kids who had laughed at James in his youth. He was the enemy. Those thoughts galloped through James' brain as he fired five bullets into Kael's chest. Lin reached for her weapon but James was faster, shooting her right in the temple.
Jessica Jester sat on the cot in her cell with her back to the wall and her knees to her chest. While there was nothing alluring about her orange prison jumpsuit, she was cute as a button without her make-up. Upon first glance, you'd have thought she was just your average girl next door. Of course, that had always been more or less the point with her. The pretty ones and the crazy ones were often the same in Atlas City. She was still seething over her last encounter with The Leopard.
Three times now, Jessica had known The Leopard's fatal weakness and yet she still failed to eliminate the heroine. She had come so close back in the costume shop. And the best part is that, if the plan had worked, Jessica wouldn't even have actually been the one to kill the crime fighter. Ricochet would have.
Jessica wondered what had become of her two helpers, Lefty and Righty. For all she knew, they had been transported back to wherever they came from to face justice. And God knows where that might have been. She might have lost them for good. The thought depressed her. And she hated being depressed. She couldn't wait to get her hands on The Leopard again... to say nothing of her nails, her feathers, a hairbrush maybe for those soles...
BANG! BANG BANG!
“Popcorn?” She turned to look through the bars of her cell. “No... that's... gunfire!”” She clapped giddily. Perhaps there was some kind of revolt or riot going on! As the sounds grew closer and closer, Jessica turned her ear to the hall. “Mmm... Sounds like a Glock 18.” She sighed like a teen hearing the voice of her crush.
“Glock 17, child.” A woman's voice corrected. Jessica looked on as Estelle approached her cell. James was behind her, brainwashed into becoming Estelle's own personal bodyguard.
Jessica stood up and stepped slowly towards the bars. When she saw Estelle, something happened. Her expression showed hope, confusion, longing, and curiosity, all melted together in an instant of happiness.
“Mom?” Jessica asked. “What are you doing here?”
On the other side of Atlas City, an altogether different kind of weapon was cocked and ready to fire. This one was located between the legs of Jack Leiberman, a.k.a., Ricochet. The infamous assassin wasn't wearing his mask at the moment, or anything else. He was laying on Ellie Wisden's bed as she put on a show for him. It was quite a show, too. For the last 20 minutes or so, she had been stroking her naked H cup breasts with a pink feather. He had watched as her nipples hardened and heard each little involuntary giggle when the feather touched on a tickle spot, like the areola or the underside of a breast.
Ellie Wisden was known better around Atlas City as The Leopard. She was an investigative journalist by day, and a costumed crime fighter by night. But on this night, she was tickling herself for Ricochet's viewing pleasure. She saw his penis grow and become erect as she performed for him.
“It's so interesting that this turns you on.” She smiled, tossing her blonde hair back. “Before that night with us and Jessica in that costume shop, I didn't even know that the tickle fetish was a thing. I mean, I had heard of it, but it sounded like something that somebody just made up. I didn't know it was real.”
“It's real.” He nodded, unable to take his eyes off of her as she playfully bounced her boobs in front of him for a moment.
“I can see that.” She glanced at his manhood, purple and rigid, jutting towards her ceiling. “So what is it about this that gets your goat?”
“It's hard to explain.” He replied. “It's something about how it makes people controllable, I think. It's not like traditional tortures or BDSM activities. It can be done by just about anybody to just about anybody. To weaken a person so much with just one well placed poke or touch...”
“So, it's about control.” She reasoned. “Domination.”
“Well, yeah, it can be.” He agreed. “But for me... I dunno. It's been something else.”
“I don't under-eep!” She gave a faint yelp when the feather touched between the side of her right breast and the ribs there. “Sorry. Hahaha. I mean I don't understand. I mean, how did it start for you? Do you remember?”
“I remember I was a kid. Maybe 9 or 10. I used to set my alarm and get up at 6 AM every Saturday...”
“Yeesh.” Ellie interrupted. “I don't think I ever got up that early as a kid.”
“I did it because my favorite show was on early. Razorboy And Firegirl?”
“It sounds familiar but I don't think I ever saw it.” She admitted, still feathering her breasts. Ricochet was temporarily distracted as he watched goosebumps appear along the tops of them.
“Anyways...” He collected himself. “At one point, Firegirl was captured and the villain... I can't remember the character's name... but the villain tickled her feet with a feather as an interrogation method. At that moment, something snapped in me. When she laughed and I heard the giggling, but it was mixed with such... anxiety... Something about that sound... I can't place it.
“Well, I guess that explains why you like watching girls being tickled.” She acknowledged. “But you also get hard when you are tickled. I don't quite get that.”
“That's a different story altogether.” He said, somewhat evading the implied question.
“I'd like to hear it.” She said with a twinkle in her eye. She started to scoot closer to him. “Or do I have to tickle it out of you?” When she approached with her mischievous smile, a nervous chuckle slipped through his lips. “What's wrong? Afraid of my feather?” She teased.
Just before she could touch him with the soft implement, her cell phone went off.
“What's that?” He asked. She jumped off of the bed.
“That alarm sounds whenever I get news of a crime.” She explained. “It's linked directly to my office computer at work.” She grabbed her phone. “Oh no.”
“What? What is it?” He climbed off of the bed as well, disregarding his visible arousal.
“Reports of gunfire at Atlas Penitentiary.” Ellie said. “Apparently, the police can't even get near the building. Four squad cars have been... turned to stone.”
“It's May.” He told her. He grabbed his cargo pants and put them on, sitting back on the bed as he did.
“What are you talking about? It's September.” She corrected.
“No, I mean May.” He shook his head. “May Duza. Former Mary Kay type who likes to turn shit to stone. I captured her alive a couple months ago when I first came into town. Sounds like she got loose.”
“Oh Jesus.” Ellie groaned. “That means the whole prison could be at her mercy. We have to go.”
“I'm already two steps ahead of you.” He stated.
“How so?” She looked up from her phone to see him fully dressed.
“I've got a shirt on, for one.” He smirked.
This campy tale of superheroes and super tickles contains:
M/F, F/F, and F/M tickling
Casual and erotic tickling
Resistance
Self tickling
Foot, stomach, genital, and full body tickling
Vaginal intercourse
Mammary intercourse
Voyeurism
Hypnotism
Verbal teasing (tickle talk)
Scenes of desperation
...And more...
Get your copy now and, as always, thank you for reading! http://www.lulu.com/shop/shellie-fe...ghs-the-mesmerist/ebook/product-23506091.html
Last edited:
