(More newsgroups Treasures) Hope On A Rope f/f

Hope on a Rope

Part One

"It's not that you're a bad person," I explained while tightening the
last knot. "I know that you don't *mean* to do the things you do,
Hope. But this time you've really -- and I mean *really* -- pissed
me off."

Hope didn't answer. How could she, being as how I'd just slapped a
nice wide piece of duct tape across her mouth? But even a bare
back can be eloquent, and Hope's was tense with fear.

I stepped back to admire the setup. Perfect! My involuntary
playmate was utterly helpless and exposed, kneeling on the bed
with her bare feet dangling over the edge, arms high above her
head, naked except for a pair of shockingly provocative pink
panties. The rope with which I'd bound her wrists was secured to a
hook set into the stout oak ceiling beam. Her ankles were bound to
the brass bed rail. Her big toes were bound together with a length
of string whose free end I'd tied to the bottom bed rail. I found
myself staring fixedly at those beautifully formed feet. . .and
longing to touch them, just lightly, with my fingernails. . .

But there was time. Oh, yes. There was *plenty* of time.

It was Hope's misfortune to be one of those women whom other
women dislike on sight. She was thirty-two, but with the face, body
and energy of a girl barely out of her teens -- and the unbearably
bubbly personality of the popular girl, the sweet-sexy high-school
cheerleader who could wrap the boys around her little finger. Just
looking at her made me feel shopworn (though there was nothing
wrong with my face, and my dark hair showed not a trace of gray),
overweight (though I wasn't, not really) and washed up at the ripe
old age of thirty-six.

Hope was blonde, blue-eyed, tanned, toned, deliciously curved,
large-breasted, leggy -- and she'd made effective use of these assets
at the agency. With a toss of her long golden hair and a flash of
stockinged thigh, she'd aced me out of the promotion I'd slaved to
earn. Now she was the hotshot, fast-track creative director of the
most progressive ad agency in town -- and I was her lowly, loyal
and dutiful subordinate. I'd been at the agency for nine years. It
took Hope less than a year to zip past me, right into the job *I'd*
sweated and slaved to earn. She'd made me eat her dust, and I
hadn't enjoyed the taste of it.

What really bugged me, though, was Hope's cluelessness. She
wasn't some sly intriguer, just totally self-absorbed. It had
probably
never occurred to her that people don't like having their toes
trampled on by a pretty girl on the way up. I was almost positive
that she didn't understand why I was doing this. Well, that was one
of my primary objectives -- to clue her in.

As for the punishment I'd chosen for Hope, its genesis was a chance
remark in a creative meeting (I'd been on hand to take notes). My
boss, it seemed, was ticklish -- *extremely* ticklish. And right
there in that meeting, I had a vision. I saw Hope's bare feet
wiggling and squirming in response to the gentle caress of my
manicured fingernails. . .

And now, the wonderful moment had arrived. I stepped forward. I
extended my arm. I touched her bare right heel with a single
fingernail. I traced a delicate pattern over that tender flesh.

"UMMMMPH!" Hope screamed into the tape. "HMMMM-UMMMMPH!"

I ran my finger down the center of her sole.

"UNNNNGRRRRMMMM!" she screamed, shivering in her bonds.

I stroked along the base of her toes.

"UNNNNMMMMPH-UNNNNGH!" Hope screamed. Her body
trembled; her arms and legs crawled with gooseflesh. My boss
hadn't been exaggerating, then. She *was* ticklish -- *very*
ticklish.

Oh, this was going to be *so* much fun!

I tickled Hope's feet for a few minutes more, until her muffled
screams faded to faint, desperate grunts. When I stopped, she
expelled a gagged sob of relief.

Now that I had her undivided attention, it was time to explain the
rules of this particular game. I picked up a stiff, pointed white
feather from the dresser and climbed onto the bed. Hope's blue eyes
went round with shock when she saw that I, too was naked.

"Oops!" I giggled. "Didn't I mention that I prefer girls?"

"Nnnnuuuummmm!" she answered, shaking her head.

"Well, I do. Girls like you especially, dear." I favored her with a
cold smile. "And, as you said just the other day, we really should
get to know one another better. That's why I'm *so* glad you could
join me for this quiet weekend in the country."

Hope squirmed in her bonds. Her firm breasts jiggled sweetly.

"Anyway, Hope, here's the deal." I held up the feather. She
squirmed harder. "That's right, sweetie. I'm going to *tickle* you.
I'm going to tickle you like *this* -- "

I swirled the feather over the tops of her breasts. "HMMPH!" she
grunted, writhing energetically. "UNNNNGGGGUMPH!"

"And like *this* -- " I added, stroking her svelte belly. Hope
writhed harder, making frantic sounds behind the tape.

"And, of course, like *this* -- " I finished, reversing the feather
and
using its hard nib to probe her navel. "URRRRGGGGH!" she
screamed. "UNNNNGH-HMMMPH!"

"Maybe you should save your breath, Hope," I suggested sweetly.
"it's apt to be a long night."

Her eyes pleaded with me. "Oh, all right," I sighed. "Tell you
what, dear -- I'll remove the tape. Promise not to start screaming?"

She nodded eagerly. *What the hell?* I thought. There was no one
to hear her out here anyway. . .and I wanted to enjoy my victim's
full-throated laughter. Smiling, I reached out and peeled the tape
from Hope's mouth.

She started to plead with me before I had the tape all the way off.
"Denise, please! Why are you *doing* this?"

"See if you can guess," I answered with a grin.

"Let me *go*!" she moaned.

"If you guess right, I might."

"You can't *do* this, Denise," she wailed. "*Really* you can't! I'm
so *ticklish*! I couldn't *stand* it!"

"That's the general idea, Hope." I lifted the feather to caress a
nipple.

"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, don't *do* that!"

"Don't you *like* it, sweetie?" I asked, swirling the feather in a
circle.

"No!" she wailed. "Oh, oh, oh stop pleeeese!" But her nipple was
stiffening. And her hips were beginning to move back and forth in a
highly suggestive manner.

I turned my attention to the other nipple, brushing it delicately
until
it was as hard as its mate. Hope moaned and thrashed. Her smooth
skin broke out in an erotic sweat. A hint of musk rose to fill my
nostrils.

"Want me to tickle your pink places?" I whispered.

"No!" she gasped. "Yes! Anything! Please!"

I drew the feather down Hope's belly and ran it along her bikini
line. "Aaaahh!" she moaned, hips churning. "Ah, ah, *ah*!"

And that's where I stopped. Hope's body was quivering with
anticipation. "Come on!" she panted. "Come *on*, Denise."

"I don't think so, Hope. You were beginning to enjoy yourself." I
stroked her thigh with the feather. "And that's not really the idea."

"You *bitch*!" she hissed.

"Oh, is Miss Hope *upset* with me?" I shook my head. "That's
such a shame. What can I do to cheer you up, dear?"

"Let me GO!" she screamed.

"Okay," I agreed. "if you'll do a little something for me, Hope."

"What?" she asked in an uncertain voice.

"Why, *laugh*, Hope" I said, reaching up for her shaved, tender
armpits. "Just *laugh* for me."

"No, stop!" she begged as my fingertips touched her skin. "Not
there! Plee-heese! Den-heese! Ah-ha! Ah-hahaha! Haha-ah-
hahaha!"
"Oh, does it *tickle*?" I asked with an evil grin, moving my fingers
in slow circles.

"OHNO! NOHO! OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO!" Hope howled.

"No?" My grin widened. "Then we'll have to try harder." I dug in
with my fingernails.

"IT TICK-EE-HEHE-HICK-HEHE-EE-HEHE-HICK-HE-HICK-
HICK-HICKLES!" she screeched, wiggling like a worm on a hook.
"AH-HA-AH-HAHAHA! HIEE-EEHEHEHE!"

Hope's face was pink; tears streamed from her eyes; her breasts
bounced; the golden hairs on her arms stood up and danced. I
lowered my hands to her ribs.

"HA-HA-HA-HA-AH-HAHAHA!" she screamed. ""PLEE-HEE-
HEE-EE-HE-HE-HE-HEESE!"

"Please what, Hope?" I asked, stilling my hands but not removing
them from her oh-so-sensitive flanks.

"Ah, ha-ha. . .please stop. . ." she panted. "You're. . .making me. .
.
*crazy*. . .no more. . .oh, *please*. . .no more. . ."

"But Hope, it's been less than an hour!" I cried in mock
disappointment. "And I've planned such a *lovely* weekend for
you!" I moved a hand to her breast and rolled a still-stiff nipple
between thumb and forefinger. "Don't tell me you're reached your
limit *already*!"

"Oh. . .oh. . .oh! Denise, please!" she babbled. "Anything! I'll do
anything! Just *tell* me what you want! I'll *do* it! I swear!"

"That's what you say now," I whispered, lowering my other hand to
her thigh. "But what happens if I untie you?"

"Anything you want!" she insisted.

"Well, we'll see," I said after a moment. "But it really is too soon
to
trust your word, Hope." I picked up the feather.

"Not again!" she wailed. "*Not again!*"
"Just for an hour or so, sweetie," I giggled, climbing off the bed to
stand behind her. "Just to make sure you *mean* it when you say
you'll do *anything* for me."

"You'll be sorry, Denise!" she cried. "You'll be sorry you did this!"

"Oh, no, Hope," I said, stroking the pad of her left big toe with the
tip of the feather.

"NOT MY FEE-HEE-HEET!" she shrieked. "NOT MY TOE-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HOES!"

"You won't tell, Hope," I explained as I tickled each toe in turn.
"I've seen to that."

"HEHE-EE-HEHEHE!" she screamed, writhing with redoubled
desperation. "EEHE-HIEE-HEHEHEHE-EE-HE-HIEEE!"

Poor Hope. It was going to be a long evening of laughter for her.

*********************************************************

Part Two

"Heee-heee-heeeeee. . ." Hope wheezed as I stroked the balls of her
pretty feet with my feather. "Heeeeeeee-heeeeeeee. . ."

"Come on, sweetie!" I called out encouragingly. "You can do better
than that! Show some interest, for God's sake!"

I ran the feather up and down the arch of her right foot. "Hee-hee-
eee-hee-heeeeee. . ." she wheezed, squirming in a decidedly feeble
manner. "Hee. . .hee. . .heeee. . ."

When I stopped tickling, Hope sagged in her bonds. I'd expected a
sob of relief and perhaps some begging, but she just knelt there with
her arms above her head, panting for breath. Had I overdone it? A
glance at the digital alarm clock on the night table suggested that
perhaps I had.

"Way to go Hope," I said with a light slap to her cute behind.
"You've survived a whole *hour* of foot-tickling. The rest of the
weekend should be a breeze."

She did sob, then. It was a beautiful sound.

"Don't worry, darling," I said. "It's break time. Just think! Five
whole minutes without being tickled"

"You're. . .going to. . .*kill* me. . .Denise. . ." she panted.
"You'll
*have* to. . .you bitch. . .because when this is over -- "

"Yes?"

"I'm going. . .to the police. . ."

"No, you're not, Hope." I patted her behind again. "You won't want
to do that."

"What. . .are you. . .talking. . .about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you wouldn't want our little secret
revealed, dear." I stepped to the side of the bed and stroked a
nipple
with the feather. Hope shivered and moaned. "The secret of our
discreet and oh-so-intimate relationship." I stroked the nipple
again. "Shall I go on?"

"Don't stop!" she cried involuntarily.

I laid the feather aside. "That's right, Hope. You don't *want* me
to stop. Do you?"

"Yes!" she moaned. "No! I don't *know*!"

I reached under the pillow at the head of the bed and pulled out a
small microcasette recorder. Hope, whose eyes were squeezed shut,
didn't see me press "record" and place it on the night table. I
picked
up the feather again.

"Want me to make you *cum*, Hope?" I whispered, stroking her belly.

"Pleeeease!" she wailed.

"Well, first the panties are going to have to go." I made short work
of them with a pair of scissors. Then I joined her on the bed.

Hope's eyes opened to find me kneeling face to face with her.
Before she could say anything, I ran the tip of the feather along her
bikini line.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!" she gasped, hips bucking.

"Ask me nicely and I'll make you cum," I whispered, reinforcing the
promise with a slight lowering the feather.

"Make me *cum*, Denise, pleeeease!" she begged. "Oh, that feels
so *good*!"

"First let's make sure that you're one-hundred-percent ready, Hope."
I raised the feather to her breasts. "I want this to be *special* for
you, sweetie."

The first touch of the feather to her stiff nipples sent Hope into a
frenzy. She wailed and thrashed, laughed and wept, pleading with
me to stop, pleading with me *not* to stop, begging me to go
*down* from her breasts, *down* past her belly, *down* to the
damp place between her thighs where the delicious tension was
building and building and *building* --

I recorded a good five minutes of this before yielding to Hope's
entreaties and lowering the feather to probe her pink places.

"Tickle, tickle," I whispered, swirling the feather over her clit.

"Oh shit!" she cried. "Oh *shit* Denise you *bitch* don't fucking
*stop* you're going to make me fucking *cum* --!

"Are you *sure* you don't want me to stop?" I asked, slowing my
hand.

"*No!*" she screamed. "*Oh pleeeease don't stop!*"

"Well, okay," I agreed, probing deeper with the feather. "Since you
say please."

Hope's body tensed. Her back arched. She licked her lips.

I probed a little deeper.

"UUHH-UUHH!" she grunted. "UH-UH-UH!"

I twirled the feather -- and Hope lost it.

She made quite a bit of noise in the process of cumming her brains
out -- all of which went onto tape. When the last spasm had passed
and she sagged in her bonds, I picked up the recorder, turned it off,
and let Hope see it.

"What's. . .that?" she gasped.

"My insurance," I said. "After this is all over, Hope, and you're
tempted to talk to the cops, just remember that I have this
recording."

"Omygod!" she moaned. "You wouldn't!"

"Not unless you give me a reason to," I agreed. "And I'm sure that
you wouldn't want this to make its way into the hands of certain
people at the agency -- would you?"

"No," she answered in a small, hopeless voice.

"Well, it won't." I smiled at her. "As long as you take your
punishment this weekend like a good girl and keep your mouth shut."

I ran my fingers down her sweat-streaked flanks. Hope writhed and
giggled. "After all," I added, "You might even *like* some of the
things I've got planned for you."

"Omygod Denise no *more* -- !" Hope wailed.

"Lots more," I promised, raising my hands to tickle her underarms.

"HEHE-EE-HE- EE-HEHE!" Hope shrieked. "NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!"

As I'd expected, the orgasm had redoubled her sensitivity to my
tickling touch.

"AH-HAHA-AH-HAHAHA-AH-HAHAHAHA!" she howled as I
reached up to stroke her arms from shoulder to elbow. "EE-HEHE-
EE-HEHE-EE-HEHEHEHE!" she added as I teased her navel with
a fingertip.

After a few minutes of this I got off the bed and moved back behind
her. "Don't tickle my *feet* again!" Hope begged. "Oh, not my feet
again *please*!"

"Not to worry, darling," I assured her. "I'm done with your feet for
now."

I raised the feather and touched Hope's back between the shoulder
blades. She trembled.

"Ready?" I asked, drawing the feather down to rest on the patch of
tender flesh just above the cleft of her buttocks.

"Ah-ha!" she whined. "Oh that *tickles*!"

I stroked.

"EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HIEEE-HEE-HEE!" Hope
screeched, writhing violently. 'EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HIEEEE!"

I swept the feather down that sensitive cleft and back up again.

Hope's ass twitched desperately and she made a sound that defied
description.

"Hmmm," I muttered, stroking steadily. "I think maybe I've found
your most ticklish spot, dear."
"HAAAA-UUUUGH!" Hope howled.
"HA-UH-HA-UH-HA-HA-HA-UH-HA-HA-HA-UH-UGH!"

"But there's plenty of time to make sure of that," I added, stroking
up and down, up and down. "We have the whole weekend!"

Hope didn't answer. But a moment later, when she peed the bed, I
was sure that she'd gotten my point.

"Oh, Hope, you've made a *mess*," I scolded. "Naughty girl!
Now, how shall I punish you?"

She sobbed and gasped.

"Ah, well," I sighed, resuming my ticklish exploration of her
ass, "I suppose I'll think of something. . ."

Great story, Lesbiantickler! You have found some fine ones, but this is my favorite.

Wow

Is there a part 3 to this story?

I searched high and low for a part 3.....but to no avail