Dave was scoping his latest prospect, Jennifer Nickleby, a
psychologist at the local correction facility. She wasn't really as
pretty as he would have liked, but she had the other necessary
components which made for a promising victim. She was rather thin up
top but surprisingly thick through her hips, thighs, and buttocks.
And those feet were to die for! Perfectly smooth and flawlessly
shaped, with well-manicured toenails painted with clear gloss. But
looks aside, Dave had personal reasons for wanting to make Jennifer
his next trophy. If Dave has his way, he will be tickling those
beautiful size 7's while drinking in her screams of laughter and pleas
for cessation.
This is what he Dave lived for. Last year, in a moment of epiphany,
his purpose on earth was defined for him when he captured a College
Varsity cheerleader named Carla Hill and tickled her for three hours
straight. And God, was she ticklish! He remembered getting a hard-on
when Carla told him earlier that day that she absolutely hated being
tickled, that it was positively the worst possible punishment beyond
any other torture imaginable. When she had finally taken his bait and
he had her strapped to the bed, he watched the terror on her face when
he told her what was to come. Within five minutes she was fully
sobbing, begging him to stop; pleading to any humanity he might have
that this was way far beyond unbearable and inhumane treatment. This
only provoked him to tickle her more vigorously. Mercy and sympathy
were foreign concepts to Dave, at least when it came to tickling
pretty girls. He believed that no matter how much the girls
protested, deep down they liked it. He harbored no guilt whatsoever.
On the contrary, he was firmly convinced that it was good for these
girls to be tickled. Wasn't laughter the best medicine, after all?
"Just call me the 'Doctor,'" he would often chuckle to himself. And
with a doctor's skill and precision he'd break down the walls of every
unsuspecting girl he could lure into his house, by tortuous tickling
and psychological warfare. By the time he released them, they were
totally broken, and would do whatever he'd command for fear of more
torture.
Having successfully captured and tormented at least 7 girls by this
point, Dave had achieved a confidence that lent itself to even greater
measures of success. He was a regular at a couple of tickling forums
on the worldwide web, where he was regarded with awe and renown for
his bold escapades. When he tried posting his adventures to the
unmoderated newsgroup, he was met with objections, and labeled a
"sick, twisted fuck." Dismissing these admonitions as "flames" he
decided to stick to the moderated forums, where such open criticism is
not permitted. He honed his salesman-like powers of persuasion and
was beginning to believe he could tickle any girl he wanted.
Which brings us back to Jennifer Nickleby. Dave wanted to tickle her
in the worst way. She had publically humiliated him, by suggesting to
those in her social circle that she had him wrapped around her finger.
This was something that Dave just could not tolerate-the idea of a
woman gaining any type of superiority over him, even if it was only
perceived superiority. It absolutely infuriated him, but he was smart
enough to shelf his rage until the time was right. If he let her know
how he really felt, her defenses would be up, making a successful
capture less likely. No, he'd swallow his pride for the moment, but
she was definitely going to pay. Oh, how she was going to pay!
Earlier today, Dave had invited Jennifer to come to his house and try
out his new massage table. He figured she would see this as yet
another opportunity to brag to her friends of how her new "boy toy"
caters to her every whim, even so far as giving her a massage. Sure
enough, she took him up on his offer. Everything was falling into
place like precision clockwork.
She arrived at his house that evening after working out. After a
couple of drinks he invited her downstairs to the recreation room,
where the massage table was already set up.
"What do you think, Jen?" he asked her, gesturing to the new table.
Unlike conventional tables, this one was a series of padded flexible
bars that could be made to conform to any body type. "It's specially
designed to support you much better than the flat tables."
"I'll let you know what I think AFTER the massage," she quipped, as
she climbed onto the table and lie face down.
"Suits me fine," Dave said amiably and began massaging. Oh, you are
sooo going to learn who's in charge here you fucking ****. SCHOOL IS
IN SESSION, BITCH!!
Five minutes into the massage Dave sensed that Jennifer had fallen
asleep, thanks to his relaxing technique and the CD called "Seashore
Tranquility" playing softly in the background. Very quickly he
reached over, opened a nearby drawer filled with cable tie-wraps.
This was his preferred method of restraint as they were very quick,
very strong, and completely disposable. In the space of 10 seconds he
had bound her at both wrists and both ankles. Jennifer appeared
completely oblivious, lost in the relaxation of the massage and music.
"Jennifer?" Dave asked softly.
"Mmmm? What?" she asked dreamily.
"Time to turn over." Dave chuckled inwardly.
"Oh. Mm-kay. Mmph. Geez, what the hell? I can't move!"
Dave watched Jennifer struggle and then finally burst out laughing.
"Oh that's okay, Jen. If you can't move, then we'll just have to
proceed just as you are! Hahaha!!" He plunged his hands into
Jennifer's ribs and she exploded with laughter. "How's THAT feel, you
self-involved bitch?? HUH??" He ravaged her ribs zealously, quickly
bringing her to a state beyond coherent speech. "Jennifer," he said
while continuing the brutal tickling. "You and that cavalcade of
cunts you hang with have forgotten the primal truth at the root of all
existance. MEN ARE SUPERIOR! We've always's BEEN superior. We'll
always BE superior! The sooner you and every other goddam Hilary
Clinton wannabee realize this, the better off..."
Dave's tyrade was cut short when the lights abruptly went off. He
and Jen were instantly plunged into stygian darkness. He stumbled
through the darkness in the direction of the laundry room where the
fusebox was. He tripped over something on the floor. He heard a
feminine giggle somewhere in the room. Terror washed over him as he
realized he and Jen were no longer alone in the room. He crawled on
the floor back to the massage table and worked his way back to a
standing position. His horror increased when he discovered Jen was no
longer bound to the table. He decided to get the hell out of there,
but before he could get moving he was suddenly grabbed by several
hands and tackled to the floor. He struggled wildly but he was
outnumbered and outmaneuvered, and quickly found himself bound and
unable to move.
When the lights came on, Dave discovered to his considerable dismay
that he was bound to the massage table in Jennifer's place. His
spirits sank even lower when he saw not only Jennifer grinning down at
him, but the seven other women he'd tickle tortured over the last
year.
"What are you..?" he began, but he already knew the answer even
before the sixteen hands descended on him. Dave was woefully
unprepared to deal with the tickling onslaught that greeted his ribs,
pits, belly, thighs, and feet. And worst of all, he was forced to
endure their belittling taunts. They made him acknowlege his
inferiority and apologize for his arrogance and cruelty. They tickled
him without mercy, the entire time emasculating him in every way they
knew how. He begged them to stop and after a couple of hours, they
finally did.
After the other girls filed out, Jennifer went back to Dave and
looked down at him. "Ready to be let out? Are you going to behave
yourself like a good little boy?" she asked condescendingly.
"Yes" he said timidly, but was already planning retribution. As soon
as she cuts me loose her ass is mine!
"Okay then," Jennifer said brightly. She grabbed the cutters and
slid the blades around each side of the rope holding Dave's right
wrist, but suddenly stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she said.
"Remember all that shit you were saying about the superiority of men?
Well have I got a surprise for you!" she beamed. "Come on in, guys!"
she called across the room.
Dave literally turned white when he saw four heavily muscled
roughnecks walk into the room. "NO!!" he screamed! "YOU CAN'T!!!"
"Dave, say hello to Rocko, Hammer, Bruno and Ox. They're from the
correctional facility where I work. I arranged to have them
temporarily released for tonights festivities." Jen glanced at her
watch and said, "I've got to go now. You boys take good care of Dave.
I've left plenty of Vaseline, okay? I'll come by in the morning and
take you guys back to the facility."
"JENNIFER!!!" Dave shrieked hysterically. "PLEASE!! YOU JUST CAN'T
DO THIS!!"
"Buh bye, Dave" Jennifer said sweetly, and then turning to the
ex-prisoners as she was leaving, "Careful boys, Dave is awfully
ticklish!" She giggled as she left the house locking the door behind
her.
psychologist at the local correction facility. She wasn't really as
pretty as he would have liked, but she had the other necessary
components which made for a promising victim. She was rather thin up
top but surprisingly thick through her hips, thighs, and buttocks.
And those feet were to die for! Perfectly smooth and flawlessly
shaped, with well-manicured toenails painted with clear gloss. But
looks aside, Dave had personal reasons for wanting to make Jennifer
his next trophy. If Dave has his way, he will be tickling those
beautiful size 7's while drinking in her screams of laughter and pleas
for cessation.
This is what he Dave lived for. Last year, in a moment of epiphany,
his purpose on earth was defined for him when he captured a College
Varsity cheerleader named Carla Hill and tickled her for three hours
straight. And God, was she ticklish! He remembered getting a hard-on
when Carla told him earlier that day that she absolutely hated being
tickled, that it was positively the worst possible punishment beyond
any other torture imaginable. When she had finally taken his bait and
he had her strapped to the bed, he watched the terror on her face when
he told her what was to come. Within five minutes she was fully
sobbing, begging him to stop; pleading to any humanity he might have
that this was way far beyond unbearable and inhumane treatment. This
only provoked him to tickle her more vigorously. Mercy and sympathy
were foreign concepts to Dave, at least when it came to tickling
pretty girls. He believed that no matter how much the girls
protested, deep down they liked it. He harbored no guilt whatsoever.
On the contrary, he was firmly convinced that it was good for these
girls to be tickled. Wasn't laughter the best medicine, after all?
"Just call me the 'Doctor,'" he would often chuckle to himself. And
with a doctor's skill and precision he'd break down the walls of every
unsuspecting girl he could lure into his house, by tortuous tickling
and psychological warfare. By the time he released them, they were
totally broken, and would do whatever he'd command for fear of more
torture.
Having successfully captured and tormented at least 7 girls by this
point, Dave had achieved a confidence that lent itself to even greater
measures of success. He was a regular at a couple of tickling forums
on the worldwide web, where he was regarded with awe and renown for
his bold escapades. When he tried posting his adventures to the
unmoderated newsgroup, he was met with objections, and labeled a
"sick, twisted fuck." Dismissing these admonitions as "flames" he
decided to stick to the moderated forums, where such open criticism is
not permitted. He honed his salesman-like powers of persuasion and
was beginning to believe he could tickle any girl he wanted.
Which brings us back to Jennifer Nickleby. Dave wanted to tickle her
in the worst way. She had publically humiliated him, by suggesting to
those in her social circle that she had him wrapped around her finger.
This was something that Dave just could not tolerate-the idea of a
woman gaining any type of superiority over him, even if it was only
perceived superiority. It absolutely infuriated him, but he was smart
enough to shelf his rage until the time was right. If he let her know
how he really felt, her defenses would be up, making a successful
capture less likely. No, he'd swallow his pride for the moment, but
she was definitely going to pay. Oh, how she was going to pay!
Earlier today, Dave had invited Jennifer to come to his house and try
out his new massage table. He figured she would see this as yet
another opportunity to brag to her friends of how her new "boy toy"
caters to her every whim, even so far as giving her a massage. Sure
enough, she took him up on his offer. Everything was falling into
place like precision clockwork.
She arrived at his house that evening after working out. After a
couple of drinks he invited her downstairs to the recreation room,
where the massage table was already set up.
"What do you think, Jen?" he asked her, gesturing to the new table.
Unlike conventional tables, this one was a series of padded flexible
bars that could be made to conform to any body type. "It's specially
designed to support you much better than the flat tables."
"I'll let you know what I think AFTER the massage," she quipped, as
she climbed onto the table and lie face down.
"Suits me fine," Dave said amiably and began massaging. Oh, you are
sooo going to learn who's in charge here you fucking ****. SCHOOL IS
IN SESSION, BITCH!!
Five minutes into the massage Dave sensed that Jennifer had fallen
asleep, thanks to his relaxing technique and the CD called "Seashore
Tranquility" playing softly in the background. Very quickly he
reached over, opened a nearby drawer filled with cable tie-wraps.
This was his preferred method of restraint as they were very quick,
very strong, and completely disposable. In the space of 10 seconds he
had bound her at both wrists and both ankles. Jennifer appeared
completely oblivious, lost in the relaxation of the massage and music.
"Jennifer?" Dave asked softly.
"Mmmm? What?" she asked dreamily.
"Time to turn over." Dave chuckled inwardly.
"Oh. Mm-kay. Mmph. Geez, what the hell? I can't move!"
Dave watched Jennifer struggle and then finally burst out laughing.
"Oh that's okay, Jen. If you can't move, then we'll just have to
proceed just as you are! Hahaha!!" He plunged his hands into
Jennifer's ribs and she exploded with laughter. "How's THAT feel, you
self-involved bitch?? HUH??" He ravaged her ribs zealously, quickly
bringing her to a state beyond coherent speech. "Jennifer," he said
while continuing the brutal tickling. "You and that cavalcade of
cunts you hang with have forgotten the primal truth at the root of all
existance. MEN ARE SUPERIOR! We've always's BEEN superior. We'll
always BE superior! The sooner you and every other goddam Hilary
Clinton wannabee realize this, the better off..."
Dave's tyrade was cut short when the lights abruptly went off. He
and Jen were instantly plunged into stygian darkness. He stumbled
through the darkness in the direction of the laundry room where the
fusebox was. He tripped over something on the floor. He heard a
feminine giggle somewhere in the room. Terror washed over him as he
realized he and Jen were no longer alone in the room. He crawled on
the floor back to the massage table and worked his way back to a
standing position. His horror increased when he discovered Jen was no
longer bound to the table. He decided to get the hell out of there,
but before he could get moving he was suddenly grabbed by several
hands and tackled to the floor. He struggled wildly but he was
outnumbered and outmaneuvered, and quickly found himself bound and
unable to move.
When the lights came on, Dave discovered to his considerable dismay
that he was bound to the massage table in Jennifer's place. His
spirits sank even lower when he saw not only Jennifer grinning down at
him, but the seven other women he'd tickle tortured over the last
year.
"What are you..?" he began, but he already knew the answer even
before the sixteen hands descended on him. Dave was woefully
unprepared to deal with the tickling onslaught that greeted his ribs,
pits, belly, thighs, and feet. And worst of all, he was forced to
endure their belittling taunts. They made him acknowlege his
inferiority and apologize for his arrogance and cruelty. They tickled
him without mercy, the entire time emasculating him in every way they
knew how. He begged them to stop and after a couple of hours, they
finally did.
After the other girls filed out, Jennifer went back to Dave and
looked down at him. "Ready to be let out? Are you going to behave
yourself like a good little boy?" she asked condescendingly.
"Yes" he said timidly, but was already planning retribution. As soon
as she cuts me loose her ass is mine!
"Okay then," Jennifer said brightly. She grabbed the cutters and
slid the blades around each side of the rope holding Dave's right
wrist, but suddenly stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she said.
"Remember all that shit you were saying about the superiority of men?
Well have I got a surprise for you!" she beamed. "Come on in, guys!"
she called across the room.
Dave literally turned white when he saw four heavily muscled
roughnecks walk into the room. "NO!!" he screamed! "YOU CAN'T!!!"
"Dave, say hello to Rocko, Hammer, Bruno and Ox. They're from the
correctional facility where I work. I arranged to have them
temporarily released for tonights festivities." Jen glanced at her
watch and said, "I've got to go now. You boys take good care of Dave.
I've left plenty of Vaseline, okay? I'll come by in the morning and
take you guys back to the facility."
"JENNIFER!!!" Dave shrieked hysterically. "PLEASE!! YOU JUST CAN'T
DO THIS!!"
"Buh bye, Dave" Jennifer said sweetly, and then turning to the
ex-prisoners as she was leaving, "Careful boys, Dave is awfully
ticklish!" She giggled as she left the house locking the door behind
her.
