Part 6
Linda awoke from the dream--the same dream she'd had the last night, the dream where she was being stretched on the rack and tickled until she fainted, except instead of fainting, she woke up and found to her disappointment that she was in her own bed.
Strange how she had thought it a terrifying experience when her aunt had done just that to her two days ago, but in her dream she longed for it again. She moaned softly and turned onto her side and clutched her pillow, not understanding her feelings.
She pushed the covers down to her feet and lay on her back, stretching her arms over her head and grasping the brass headboard, imagining she was tied to it. But is was no good because she wasn't tied and there wasn't anybody to touch her. She tried tickling her stomach but it just didn't work and besides, she had to let go of the headboard to do it which spoiled the feeling.
She grasped the headboard again, wishing somebody was there to tickle her into insanity. Eventually she fell asleep.
The next day, Linda's parents, brother, and sister left for a two day vacation, leaving her alone with Aunt Vivian. The memories of the dreams were still vivid in Linda's memory, and she found that she was as restless during the day as'she was at night. Sitting in the center of the couch, wearing an old red tank top and short frayed cutoffs, Linda looked away from the television screen down at her wrists.
"It looks like the marks are almost gone now."
Her aunt looked up from her easy chair. "What was that?"
"The marks where the ropes chafed my wrists."
"That must have been uncomfortable."
Linda stretched her bare arms out along the top of the couch and said, "No big deal." Linda casually looked back at the TV without really seeing it, aware that the tank top left her underarms and upper sides exposed.
Aunt Vivian got up from her chair and walked around the back of the couch, standing directly behind Linda. She gently took Linda's forearms in her hands and lifted her arms over her head to see her wrists. Linda's breath caught in a small gasp as she felt her arms lifted high; she made no effort to pull them down. She wore no bra underneath the tank top, and she was aware of her nipples growing harder, pushing visibly against the red fabric. Sadly, she thought, as she arched her back slightly to feel the cloth against her breasts, there was nobody else to see her or touch her under her arms.
What was happening to her?
"Oh, yes," said Aunt Vivian, "it's almost faded completely, you poor dear."
She let go of Linda's forearms, allowing her to rub her wrists as she had when she had finally been untied from the column a couple of days ago.
Noticing the obvious reaction of her niece, Aunt Vivian remained behind her and ran her index fingernail up her bare arm and shoulder until it reached the shoulder strap of her tank top. Liking the sensation, Linda lifted her shoulder as the nail touched her bare skin. "Is there something you want to tell me, Linda?"
"No,' she said uncertainly, "I don t think so."
"You're not wearing very much clothing. You know you can confide in me, don't you?"
"It's a hot day, that's all," she lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Well...no." She was embarrassed to find herself blushing, and equally embarrassed that she didn't have the nerve to tell Aunt Vivian what was on her mind.
Aunt Vivian placed two fingers under Linda's shoulder straps and felt the warm skin against the back of her fingers. Leaning forward, she whispered, "If there's anything you want to say, it's all right."
Barely aware she was saying it, it was out before she could stop herself.
"Will you tickle me again?"
"Of course. Lift your arms up." Slowly, Linda lifted her arms up, knowing what was coming next. When they were all the way up, Aunt Vivian ran her fingernails from Linda's shoulders and skittered them outwards, but long before they reached her bare underarms, Linda pulled her arms down in a panic.
"Now, Linda, that won't do at all. You said you wanted to be tickled, but it doesn't look like you really do."
"I-I can't help it," she said, her arms clamped tightly to her sides. "I do want to be tickled, I really do."
"You re not being very cooperative."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Vivian."
"Let's try it again."
Linda nervously lifted her arms up again, her entire body tense. Aunt Vivian reached around her niece and placed her fingers in her smooth warm underarms, but no sooner had she touched her than Linda pulled her arms down with a shriek, clamping the fingers in place. Her aunt wiggled them and, with a scream, Linda pulled away, leaning forward with her arms tightly against her sides.
Giving up, Aunt Vivian said, "This just isn t working out."
"I-I guess you'll have to tie me up, like maybe...to my bed. I mean, if you ... think it's too much trouble, ... I'll--"
"I'll be happy to, Linda."
Linda had a mental image of herself squirming helplessly spread-eagled on her own bed, her wrists and ankles tightly secured to the bedframe, the thin tank top exposing her ticklish underarms to her aunt who would not be merciful. There would be no pulling away then. She felt dizzy with the thought, and afraid, too. "Go up to your room then," Aunt Vivian said sternly.
Linda lay down on her single bed with its brass headboard and reached her arms up high, shivering at the anticipation of being bound there, but at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs jumped quickly out of bed. Aunt Vivian, with a coil of clothesline and sewing scissors in her hand, entered the room. Without saying a word, she slowly and deliberately cut four long pieces of the clothesline, letting them fall ominously on the bedspread. "Take off your clothes," she commanded.
"My clothes, Aunt Vivian? I'm already wearing a tank top."
"Your clothes, young lady." Aunt Vivian was a very experienced tickler, and knew that if the subject wanted to be tickled and had dressed accordingly, it was necessary to demand she take off more. Otherwise, the tickle session was on the victim's terms, and that just wasn't satisfactory.
Reluctantly, Linda took off her tank top, dropped it on the floor, and chastely covered her breasts. Oh well, she had been topless that last time Aunt Vivian had tortured her and she had survived that.
"Your cutoffs too."
"I-I can't do that. Let's just forget this, I've changed my mind." She reached down for the tank top, but Aunt Vivian picked it up first and held it away from her.
"Oh, very well, girl. Leave them on. Get on the bed the way you are."
Relieved, Linda lay on her back with her arms over her breasts.
"Assume the position."
Blushing, she lifted her arms up and out toward the bedframe. She watched with curiosity as Aunt Vivian took one wrist and tied a piece of rope around it and secured the other end to the outermost of the brass tubing. Linda gave the rope a tug, finding it secure. Aunt Vivian did the same with her other arm.
Then she unbuttoned Linda's cutoffs and pulled them down and off, throwing them next to the discarded tank top.
"Aunt Vivian, you'said...."
Next came her panties, leaving Linda completely nude on the bed. She pulled at the ropes holding her wrists, trying to get free, but figured out quickly the best way to escape. She slid up on the bed and tried to untie the knots where the rope was attached to the headboard, something girls tied to beds in movies never seemed to figure out.
"We'll have none of that, young lady," said Aunt Vivian, grabbing Linda's feet and pulling toward the end of the bed. Quickly she tied a rope around an ankle and secured it to the foot of the bed, then did the same with the other. Linda's nude body was now stretched out very tightly in an X.
"Let me go! Let me go now!" Linda thrashed around, hoping one of her extremities would come loose. None did.
Aunt Vivian impassively watched her niece s struggling, knowing it would die down after a few moments. She was now just grunting, the struggling growing weaker. A minute later, she lay there limply out of breath. Aunt Vivian sat on the bed next to Linda, who looked up angrily.
"I didn't want to be stripped."
Ignoring her statement, Aunt Vivian traced one long fingernail from Linda's throat, down between her breasts, circling her navel, stopping right before reaching her pubic hair. This elicited some giggles, but the anger could be heard in them.
"Now, we're going to have a nice little talk, girl."
"No."
Again she tried pulling free, her hands clenched in fists, jerking spasmodically at the ropes, and again she settled down.
Aunt Vivian felt the ropes around Linda's wrists. "Not too tight, are they?"
"No, they re just right." She ran her fingernails down Linda's bare arms, which made Linda angrily giggle again, then shriek as the passed through the hollows of her underarms, and down her sides. But she didn't stop there. She continued down Linda's hips, legs, stopping at her bound ankles. It was important the victim be reminded of her nudity, and that the tormentor could touch her anywhere, anytime she wanted.
Aunt Vivian placed one hand on the inside of Linda's bare thigh and caressed it, causing her to squirm slightly, although not as strongly as before.
"Are you ready for that talk now?"
"Talk about what?"
"About you helping out at the museum."
"Doing what?" she asked suspiciously, knowing the answer.
"Demonstrating the devices in the dungeon, just like you did before."
"No way, I m doing that again with all those people gawking at me like they did."
"Stubborn, stubborn, aren't you. Well I think I can change your mind."
"How, by tickling me?"
Dumb question, she knew as she asked it.
"That and other torture. Be back in a minute."
With that'she left the room and went downstairs.
Linda looked up at one bound wrist then the other. No, this definitely wasn't like television actresses tied to beds, where they had about two feet of slack, but were too dumb to figure out to how to get loose. She was centered on the bed in such a way as to make it impossible to even touch the bedframe with her hands or feet, and there was very little slack. She narrowed her hands as much as she could and rotated them, trying to slip one free. A minute later she was no closer to freedom when Aunt Vivian returned with a bucket which she sat on the floor next to Linda's bed.
She tried to see what was in it, but couldn't, which her aunt had planned.
"What-what's in the bucket?" she asked nervously.
"Oh, just a little surprise. Have you reconsidered?" She gave one of Linda's nipples a little squeeze.
"No."
"Very well then." Aunt Vivian reached into the bucket and picked up a plastic sandwich bag full of crushed ice. Linda's eyes grew wide at the sight. We'll just place this under your back, Linda.
"Please, no."
Linda tried to push against the bed, but Aunt Vivian simply pushed down on the bed itself which made a valley for her to slide the ice into, leaving it under Linda's bare back Linda arched her back to escape the cold, trying to keep her weight on her head and heels, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The result left her bare underarms stretched tightly, and Aunt Vivian scratched them with her long fingernails. Linda screamed and fell back against the cold ice. As soon as her bare back touched the cold ice, Aunt Vivian stopped tickling her. It wasn't long before the cold caused Linda to arch her back again, which immediately prompted Aunt Vivian to rake her sides. Again Linda fell back down, making loud animal-like noises.
When Linda lifted her back again, Aunt Vivian mercifully removed the ice bag.
It's okay, she said soothingly, settle down for a moment and rest.
Linda let herself relax, still aware of the cold spot on the bed covers.
Yes, "I know." Aunt Vivian stroked Linda's forehead. "Just relax a moment."
This is actually torture, thought Linda, real torture, not play torture like she had put up with from her goofy little brother. Here I am completely naked and spread-eagled, tied to my bed, I can't get loose, and I'm being tortured. And the reason for the torture is to get me to agree to be tortured at the museum. How ironic! I wonder if this has ever happened to anybody before.
"Well, what do you think, Linda?"
"Forget it. I'm not going to be put on display as if I m part of an exhibit for everybody to stare at."
Aunt Vivian reached into the bucket and pulled out two small plastic bags, smaller than the other, the kind people put small nuts and bolts into. Inside the zipped bags was more crushed ice. She set them on the bed next to Linda, and took out some duct tape. Casually, she tore off a piece of tape and stuck it to one of the bags. She did the same with the other. "Are you sure, dear?"
Linda clenched her teeth, knowing what was about to happen, but unwilling to give in. "Get on with it," she said.
Picking up one of the bags, Aunt Vivian taped it over on of Linda's nipples. The effect was not unexpected. Linda started whimpering in short little bursts, squirming to escape the inescapable cold. A second later the other bag was applied. They felt cold and hot at the same time, freezing and burning her bare breasts, numbing them somewhat, but not enough to stop the agony centered on her nipples.
She tried to pull her hands free, wanting more than anything to yank the bags off her cold breasts. the rope biting into her wrists.
Aunt Vivian went to the foot of the bed and wiggled Linda's big toe. "Don't worry, they'll melt soon. But until they do, I just think I'll tickle your foot."
With that statement, she pulled back on Linda's toes and began scratching her sole.
Linda's whimpering changed into gasps and shrieks which transcended laughter, her bare leg twitching convulsively as the nails tickled the bottom of her foot, but the rope around her ankle kept it in place. All she could think about was the agony in her breasts and her foot. At the foot of her bed she could see Aunt Vivian calmly scratching her foot as the ice in the bags melted, leaving smaller chunks'swimming in cold water. Her tortured wailing filled her own ears as she waited for the chunks of ice to disappear.
Eventually they did, leaving rippling bags of ice cold water still taped to her breasts, and Aunt Alice finally stopped, leaving the nude spread-eagled Linda weakly moaning with her eyes closed.
She opened them to find the room empty, but the bags still taped in place, still miserably cold. Downstairs water was running, then shut off. A minute later Aunt Alice returned with two more sandwich bags of water which she set down on the bed.
"We'll just remove these now," said Aunt Alice as she ripped the tape from Linda's breasts, causing a shout as the tape came free from her skin. "I've poured warm water in these." Then she picked up the two new bags and applied them to Linda's cold breasts.
Linda let out a deafening scream because the warm water following the cold felt scalding hot, even though it wasn't. Aunt Alice held them in place until the screaming stopped, knowing that Linda's nerve endings had adjusted to the warmth from the bag. She removed the bags and looked at the limp bound girl. Her eyes filled with pride for her niece, when Linda, staring up at the ceiling, simply said:
"The answer is'still no."
She turned her head to look at her aunt.
Aunt Vivian looked at Linda's face, then down at her bare underarm inches away, and ran a nail down it. Linda tried to stay defiant, but her mouth turned up in a smile. So did Aunt Vivian's, as she decided on the next torture. She climbed on the bed and straddled Linda's hips and placed her fingernails in Linda's sides, noting the fear in her eyes. Then she started to tickle Linda like she had never been tickled before.
Without mercy or pause, she ran her fingernails across every inch of skin that was ticklish, her abdomen, her underarms, around her breasts, up and down her sides. Linda shrieked and tried desperately to pull her hands free, but as always, Aunt Vivian had tied her too well. One did not escape when tied by Aunt Vivian, and Linda knew it.
"I'm not going to stop, Linda. Not until you agree."
"No,"
Linda managed to say through the other unintelligible sounds that only a girl being tickled unmercifully can make.
But she was weakening, Aunt Vivian knew. Looking down at her niece's contorted expression, as her fingers incessantly tickled her bare skin, she could see the signs. The shrieking was becoming quieter and her head was tossing less. Instead of trying to pull her bound wrists free, she was only opening and closing her fingers, and even that was slowing down. No stranger to tickling people, Aunt Vivian knew it was quite possible that Linda had forgotten why she was being tortured, or that she was unable to say she had had enough. It was time to remind her, so she stopped.
T"he dungeon?"
The hesitation was obvious, but Linda whispered, "No."
Aunt Vivian began scratching Linda's bare underarms again, and this time Linda screamed, "OKAY."
"What was that?"
"Okay, I'll do it!" she screamed, although weakly. "I'll let people come in and see me in chains, clamped on torture devices, anything, but just don't tickle me anymore! Untie me and let me put on some clothes!"
"Are you'sure?"
"YES!" she shouted with considerable energy.
Then quietly, "Just let me go."
Aunt Vivian got up off of Linda and stood next to the bed, looking down at her. The poor girl was completely disheveled, her hair a mess, her limp body stretched out helplessly and not moving except for her heaving breasts as she caught her breath. "Just one more thing, sweetie."
"What?"
asked Linda weakly.
Aunt Vivian picked up the phone and pressed the buttons. "I'm calling your parents at their hotel, and you're going to tell them you will work at the museum." That way Linda wouldn't change her mind as soon as she was released. She placed the receiver next to Linda's ear.
"Oh, great. What if they aren t there?"
"Then you'stayed tied up."
Luckily the phone was answered by her mother. "Mom? I've decided I want to help out at the museum...Yes, like before...I m fine, yes, goodbye." It was'so embarrassing talking to her mother while tied naked to her bed, although there was no way she could have known.
Was there?
As Aunt Vivian started to untie her, she started to wonder.
Linda awoke from the dream--the same dream she'd had the last night, the dream where she was being stretched on the rack and tickled until she fainted, except instead of fainting, she woke up and found to her disappointment that she was in her own bed.
Strange how she had thought it a terrifying experience when her aunt had done just that to her two days ago, but in her dream she longed for it again. She moaned softly and turned onto her side and clutched her pillow, not understanding her feelings.
She pushed the covers down to her feet and lay on her back, stretching her arms over her head and grasping the brass headboard, imagining she was tied to it. But is was no good because she wasn't tied and there wasn't anybody to touch her. She tried tickling her stomach but it just didn't work and besides, she had to let go of the headboard to do it which spoiled the feeling.
She grasped the headboard again, wishing somebody was there to tickle her into insanity. Eventually she fell asleep.
The next day, Linda's parents, brother, and sister left for a two day vacation, leaving her alone with Aunt Vivian. The memories of the dreams were still vivid in Linda's memory, and she found that she was as restless during the day as'she was at night. Sitting in the center of the couch, wearing an old red tank top and short frayed cutoffs, Linda looked away from the television screen down at her wrists.
"It looks like the marks are almost gone now."
Her aunt looked up from her easy chair. "What was that?"
"The marks where the ropes chafed my wrists."
"That must have been uncomfortable."
Linda stretched her bare arms out along the top of the couch and said, "No big deal." Linda casually looked back at the TV without really seeing it, aware that the tank top left her underarms and upper sides exposed.
Aunt Vivian got up from her chair and walked around the back of the couch, standing directly behind Linda. She gently took Linda's forearms in her hands and lifted her arms over her head to see her wrists. Linda's breath caught in a small gasp as she felt her arms lifted high; she made no effort to pull them down. She wore no bra underneath the tank top, and she was aware of her nipples growing harder, pushing visibly against the red fabric. Sadly, she thought, as she arched her back slightly to feel the cloth against her breasts, there was nobody else to see her or touch her under her arms.
What was happening to her?
"Oh, yes," said Aunt Vivian, "it's almost faded completely, you poor dear."
She let go of Linda's forearms, allowing her to rub her wrists as she had when she had finally been untied from the column a couple of days ago.
Noticing the obvious reaction of her niece, Aunt Vivian remained behind her and ran her index fingernail up her bare arm and shoulder until it reached the shoulder strap of her tank top. Liking the sensation, Linda lifted her shoulder as the nail touched her bare skin. "Is there something you want to tell me, Linda?"
"No,' she said uncertainly, "I don t think so."
"You're not wearing very much clothing. You know you can confide in me, don't you?"
"It's a hot day, that's all," she lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Well...no." She was embarrassed to find herself blushing, and equally embarrassed that she didn't have the nerve to tell Aunt Vivian what was on her mind.
Aunt Vivian placed two fingers under Linda's shoulder straps and felt the warm skin against the back of her fingers. Leaning forward, she whispered, "If there's anything you want to say, it's all right."
Barely aware she was saying it, it was out before she could stop herself.
"Will you tickle me again?"
"Of course. Lift your arms up." Slowly, Linda lifted her arms up, knowing what was coming next. When they were all the way up, Aunt Vivian ran her fingernails from Linda's shoulders and skittered them outwards, but long before they reached her bare underarms, Linda pulled her arms down in a panic.
"Now, Linda, that won't do at all. You said you wanted to be tickled, but it doesn't look like you really do."
"I-I can't help it," she said, her arms clamped tightly to her sides. "I do want to be tickled, I really do."
"You re not being very cooperative."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Vivian."
"Let's try it again."
Linda nervously lifted her arms up again, her entire body tense. Aunt Vivian reached around her niece and placed her fingers in her smooth warm underarms, but no sooner had she touched her than Linda pulled her arms down with a shriek, clamping the fingers in place. Her aunt wiggled them and, with a scream, Linda pulled away, leaning forward with her arms tightly against her sides.
Giving up, Aunt Vivian said, "This just isn t working out."
"I-I guess you'll have to tie me up, like maybe...to my bed. I mean, if you ... think it's too much trouble, ... I'll--"
"I'll be happy to, Linda."
Linda had a mental image of herself squirming helplessly spread-eagled on her own bed, her wrists and ankles tightly secured to the bedframe, the thin tank top exposing her ticklish underarms to her aunt who would not be merciful. There would be no pulling away then. She felt dizzy with the thought, and afraid, too. "Go up to your room then," Aunt Vivian said sternly.
Linda lay down on her single bed with its brass headboard and reached her arms up high, shivering at the anticipation of being bound there, but at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs jumped quickly out of bed. Aunt Vivian, with a coil of clothesline and sewing scissors in her hand, entered the room. Without saying a word, she slowly and deliberately cut four long pieces of the clothesline, letting them fall ominously on the bedspread. "Take off your clothes," she commanded.
"My clothes, Aunt Vivian? I'm already wearing a tank top."
"Your clothes, young lady." Aunt Vivian was a very experienced tickler, and knew that if the subject wanted to be tickled and had dressed accordingly, it was necessary to demand she take off more. Otherwise, the tickle session was on the victim's terms, and that just wasn't satisfactory.
Reluctantly, Linda took off her tank top, dropped it on the floor, and chastely covered her breasts. Oh well, she had been topless that last time Aunt Vivian had tortured her and she had survived that.
"Your cutoffs too."
"I-I can't do that. Let's just forget this, I've changed my mind." She reached down for the tank top, but Aunt Vivian picked it up first and held it away from her.
"Oh, very well, girl. Leave them on. Get on the bed the way you are."
Relieved, Linda lay on her back with her arms over her breasts.
"Assume the position."
Blushing, she lifted her arms up and out toward the bedframe. She watched with curiosity as Aunt Vivian took one wrist and tied a piece of rope around it and secured the other end to the outermost of the brass tubing. Linda gave the rope a tug, finding it secure. Aunt Vivian did the same with her other arm.
Then she unbuttoned Linda's cutoffs and pulled them down and off, throwing them next to the discarded tank top.
"Aunt Vivian, you'said...."
Next came her panties, leaving Linda completely nude on the bed. She pulled at the ropes holding her wrists, trying to get free, but figured out quickly the best way to escape. She slid up on the bed and tried to untie the knots where the rope was attached to the headboard, something girls tied to beds in movies never seemed to figure out.
"We'll have none of that, young lady," said Aunt Vivian, grabbing Linda's feet and pulling toward the end of the bed. Quickly she tied a rope around an ankle and secured it to the foot of the bed, then did the same with the other. Linda's nude body was now stretched out very tightly in an X.
"Let me go! Let me go now!" Linda thrashed around, hoping one of her extremities would come loose. None did.
Aunt Vivian impassively watched her niece s struggling, knowing it would die down after a few moments. She was now just grunting, the struggling growing weaker. A minute later, she lay there limply out of breath. Aunt Vivian sat on the bed next to Linda, who looked up angrily.
"I didn't want to be stripped."
Ignoring her statement, Aunt Vivian traced one long fingernail from Linda's throat, down between her breasts, circling her navel, stopping right before reaching her pubic hair. This elicited some giggles, but the anger could be heard in them.
"Now, we're going to have a nice little talk, girl."
"No."
Again she tried pulling free, her hands clenched in fists, jerking spasmodically at the ropes, and again she settled down.
Aunt Vivian felt the ropes around Linda's wrists. "Not too tight, are they?"
"No, they re just right." She ran her fingernails down Linda's bare arms, which made Linda angrily giggle again, then shriek as the passed through the hollows of her underarms, and down her sides. But she didn't stop there. She continued down Linda's hips, legs, stopping at her bound ankles. It was important the victim be reminded of her nudity, and that the tormentor could touch her anywhere, anytime she wanted.
Aunt Vivian placed one hand on the inside of Linda's bare thigh and caressed it, causing her to squirm slightly, although not as strongly as before.
"Are you ready for that talk now?"
"Talk about what?"
"About you helping out at the museum."
"Doing what?" she asked suspiciously, knowing the answer.
"Demonstrating the devices in the dungeon, just like you did before."
"No way, I m doing that again with all those people gawking at me like they did."
"Stubborn, stubborn, aren't you. Well I think I can change your mind."
"How, by tickling me?"
Dumb question, she knew as she asked it.
"That and other torture. Be back in a minute."
With that'she left the room and went downstairs.
Linda looked up at one bound wrist then the other. No, this definitely wasn't like television actresses tied to beds, where they had about two feet of slack, but were too dumb to figure out to how to get loose. She was centered on the bed in such a way as to make it impossible to even touch the bedframe with her hands or feet, and there was very little slack. She narrowed her hands as much as she could and rotated them, trying to slip one free. A minute later she was no closer to freedom when Aunt Vivian returned with a bucket which she sat on the floor next to Linda's bed.
She tried to see what was in it, but couldn't, which her aunt had planned.
"What-what's in the bucket?" she asked nervously.
"Oh, just a little surprise. Have you reconsidered?" She gave one of Linda's nipples a little squeeze.
"No."
"Very well then." Aunt Vivian reached into the bucket and picked up a plastic sandwich bag full of crushed ice. Linda's eyes grew wide at the sight. We'll just place this under your back, Linda.
"Please, no."
Linda tried to push against the bed, but Aunt Vivian simply pushed down on the bed itself which made a valley for her to slide the ice into, leaving it under Linda's bare back Linda arched her back to escape the cold, trying to keep her weight on her head and heels, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The result left her bare underarms stretched tightly, and Aunt Vivian scratched them with her long fingernails. Linda screamed and fell back against the cold ice. As soon as her bare back touched the cold ice, Aunt Vivian stopped tickling her. It wasn't long before the cold caused Linda to arch her back again, which immediately prompted Aunt Vivian to rake her sides. Again Linda fell back down, making loud animal-like noises.
When Linda lifted her back again, Aunt Vivian mercifully removed the ice bag.
It's okay, she said soothingly, settle down for a moment and rest.
Linda let herself relax, still aware of the cold spot on the bed covers.
Yes, "I know." Aunt Vivian stroked Linda's forehead. "Just relax a moment."
This is actually torture, thought Linda, real torture, not play torture like she had put up with from her goofy little brother. Here I am completely naked and spread-eagled, tied to my bed, I can't get loose, and I'm being tortured. And the reason for the torture is to get me to agree to be tortured at the museum. How ironic! I wonder if this has ever happened to anybody before.
"Well, what do you think, Linda?"
"Forget it. I'm not going to be put on display as if I m part of an exhibit for everybody to stare at."
Aunt Vivian reached into the bucket and pulled out two small plastic bags, smaller than the other, the kind people put small nuts and bolts into. Inside the zipped bags was more crushed ice. She set them on the bed next to Linda, and took out some duct tape. Casually, she tore off a piece of tape and stuck it to one of the bags. She did the same with the other. "Are you sure, dear?"
Linda clenched her teeth, knowing what was about to happen, but unwilling to give in. "Get on with it," she said.
Picking up one of the bags, Aunt Vivian taped it over on of Linda's nipples. The effect was not unexpected. Linda started whimpering in short little bursts, squirming to escape the inescapable cold. A second later the other bag was applied. They felt cold and hot at the same time, freezing and burning her bare breasts, numbing them somewhat, but not enough to stop the agony centered on her nipples.
She tried to pull her hands free, wanting more than anything to yank the bags off her cold breasts. the rope biting into her wrists.
Aunt Vivian went to the foot of the bed and wiggled Linda's big toe. "Don't worry, they'll melt soon. But until they do, I just think I'll tickle your foot."
With that statement, she pulled back on Linda's toes and began scratching her sole.
Linda's whimpering changed into gasps and shrieks which transcended laughter, her bare leg twitching convulsively as the nails tickled the bottom of her foot, but the rope around her ankle kept it in place. All she could think about was the agony in her breasts and her foot. At the foot of her bed she could see Aunt Vivian calmly scratching her foot as the ice in the bags melted, leaving smaller chunks'swimming in cold water. Her tortured wailing filled her own ears as she waited for the chunks of ice to disappear.
Eventually they did, leaving rippling bags of ice cold water still taped to her breasts, and Aunt Alice finally stopped, leaving the nude spread-eagled Linda weakly moaning with her eyes closed.
She opened them to find the room empty, but the bags still taped in place, still miserably cold. Downstairs water was running, then shut off. A minute later Aunt Alice returned with two more sandwich bags of water which she set down on the bed.
"We'll just remove these now," said Aunt Alice as she ripped the tape from Linda's breasts, causing a shout as the tape came free from her skin. "I've poured warm water in these." Then she picked up the two new bags and applied them to Linda's cold breasts.
Linda let out a deafening scream because the warm water following the cold felt scalding hot, even though it wasn't. Aunt Alice held them in place until the screaming stopped, knowing that Linda's nerve endings had adjusted to the warmth from the bag. She removed the bags and looked at the limp bound girl. Her eyes filled with pride for her niece, when Linda, staring up at the ceiling, simply said:
"The answer is'still no."
She turned her head to look at her aunt.
Aunt Vivian looked at Linda's face, then down at her bare underarm inches away, and ran a nail down it. Linda tried to stay defiant, but her mouth turned up in a smile. So did Aunt Vivian's, as she decided on the next torture. She climbed on the bed and straddled Linda's hips and placed her fingernails in Linda's sides, noting the fear in her eyes. Then she started to tickle Linda like she had never been tickled before.
Without mercy or pause, she ran her fingernails across every inch of skin that was ticklish, her abdomen, her underarms, around her breasts, up and down her sides. Linda shrieked and tried desperately to pull her hands free, but as always, Aunt Vivian had tied her too well. One did not escape when tied by Aunt Vivian, and Linda knew it.
"I'm not going to stop, Linda. Not until you agree."
"No,"
Linda managed to say through the other unintelligible sounds that only a girl being tickled unmercifully can make.
But she was weakening, Aunt Vivian knew. Looking down at her niece's contorted expression, as her fingers incessantly tickled her bare skin, she could see the signs. The shrieking was becoming quieter and her head was tossing less. Instead of trying to pull her bound wrists free, she was only opening and closing her fingers, and even that was slowing down. No stranger to tickling people, Aunt Vivian knew it was quite possible that Linda had forgotten why she was being tortured, or that she was unable to say she had had enough. It was time to remind her, so she stopped.
T"he dungeon?"
The hesitation was obvious, but Linda whispered, "No."
Aunt Vivian began scratching Linda's bare underarms again, and this time Linda screamed, "OKAY."
"What was that?"
"Okay, I'll do it!" she screamed, although weakly. "I'll let people come in and see me in chains, clamped on torture devices, anything, but just don't tickle me anymore! Untie me and let me put on some clothes!"
"Are you'sure?"
"YES!" she shouted with considerable energy.
Then quietly, "Just let me go."
Aunt Vivian got up off of Linda and stood next to the bed, looking down at her. The poor girl was completely disheveled, her hair a mess, her limp body stretched out helplessly and not moving except for her heaving breasts as she caught her breath. "Just one more thing, sweetie."
"What?"
asked Linda weakly.
Aunt Vivian picked up the phone and pressed the buttons. "I'm calling your parents at their hotel, and you're going to tell them you will work at the museum." That way Linda wouldn't change her mind as soon as she was released. She placed the receiver next to Linda's ear.
"Oh, great. What if they aren t there?"
"Then you'stayed tied up."
Luckily the phone was answered by her mother. "Mom? I've decided I want to help out at the museum...Yes, like before...I m fine, yes, goodbye." It was'so embarrassing talking to her mother while tied naked to her bed, although there was no way she could have known.
Was there?
As Aunt Vivian started to untie her, she started to wonder.
