Once again, Ayla put the idea in my brain so ‘tis all her fault folks For all those who enjoy the ‘power-play’ side of our mutual interest….
******
I’m sitting peacefully in the operations centre with my feet resting on a spare server and am about halfway through an exhaustive eight hour study of the inside of my eyelids when the door bursts open and my newly employed assistant bursts through muttering something about ‘those huggy-feely bastards’ and waving an e-mail printout around. On her way past I snag said print out and scan the important bits before returning to my study.
Noticing the distinct lack of concern she starts to simmer down some, grabbing the chair opposite and waiting patiently for an explanation. Not wanting to get into a debate about the relative merits, or lack thereof, of team building weekends, I pass over an e-mail of my own, and wait for her to read through it.
“Okay, so you’ve got the same e-mail, well, with a few minor details and a change of writing style difference at least. Why is that meant to reassure me?” She snaps, none the wiser.
“Look at the date.” I reply.
“Wait, this was sent a week ago to the boss?”
“Yep, I was beginning to worry the boss hadn’t taken the hint.”
“And there’s a reason you want to meet the rest of the IT department on the, how did you put it, ah, the ‘Paintball field of honour’? Aside from anything else, you are aware that the rest of our so-called team is made up of all those who mysteriously catch life-threatening illnesses the day before any team activity and recover just in time to avoid needing a doctors note, while the other side has mysteriously ended up with all the weekend warriors who do this sort of thing for fun?” She demands, and I decide it’s time to reign in on her temper before something nasty happens. Well, nasty for her anyway.
“And, by a strange coincidence, those are all the members of this department who seem to be under the mistaken opinion that we are here to clean up all the little messes and unpleasant jobs they don’t want to do.” I reply “Besides, don’t worry about it, there’s three reasons why we’ve already won this.”
“And those would be?”
”First, we have a lifetime of experience in being cunning and devious to meet the whining demands of our users, whereas the most devious thing they ever have to deal with is the photocopier. Second, with only two of us and seven of them it’s what I believe is called a target rich environment. And third, we’ll cheat.”
Liz still looks worried so heads off to nuke the recruitment server in the hopes it’ll ease her mind. I take a moment to fire off an e-mail to a specialist firearm retailer I happen to be on good credit terms with and settle back to finish my study.
Nine in the morning finds the rather smug looking team of developers and helldesk staff rolling up in a mini-bus at the paintball range, all looking disgustingly keen to get on with what I’m sure they think will be a massacre to go down in simulated warfare history. The smug factor dips a little on spotting us sitting in the flatbed of a nicely beaten up, army green, Land Rover Defender with the full military accessory kit (big metal work around the front, 4 large spotlights mounted above the cabin, that sort of thing). The fact we’re wearing our own combats, face paint and appear to be carrying weapons that definitely aren’t standard issue from this particular centre only adds to the worry and in the few seconds it takes for them to walk from bus to dressing rooms they seem to have suffered a slight moral drop. Not that it’ll be the last such drop they have today, but why spoil the surprise?
Once the other side are suited and booted we head off to our respective base camps, pausing only long enough for a few last minute adjustments to the kit in the back of the 4x4. The game is simple enough, both sides get a base camp in a reasonably defendable location, first team to get ‘killed’, looses. I shuck the rather large kit bag to the ground and a minute or two’s preparation has us ready to go. Liz stays behind as I slip into the woods, looking for a good sniper spot. A few minutes later I find just what I’m looking for and hunker down in a nice wooden hole to wait with a small greyscale screen propped up next to me with ‘asset tracking system prototype’ inscribed on a hand-written label. This might seem strange to the casual observer, but it’s surprising just how many different assets a company needs to keep track of in the field, laptops, cars, combat coveralls….
The first of our ‘assets’ slips into view after ten minutes or so, making a pretty ham-fisted job of moving quietly through the dense woodland. As she gets closer I pull my sidearm out and take aim. A muffled ‘thwip’ later and she’s down on the ground, knocked cold by the powerful, but harmless, tranquilliser dart. True, most people would consider using such a weapon as a tad unsporting but I look at it more as an exercise in proper planning. Scooping her up in my arms I hot foot it back to base camp, the tracking monitor secured to a map pocket on my right arm to make sure we don’t get jumped on-route. Once back I drop my victim off and grab a quick drink while Liz gets busy with our first guest. Within seconds she’s got her gagged, hogtied and stripped off her boots and socks. Even as I leave camp I can hear the first rustlings of struggle as the now helpless woman wakes up, shortly followed by the soft whisper of fingers on skin as Liz starts to work on her bare soles.
It takes damn near an hour to get the other six in a similar fashion, and I’m a bit careless on the last one, missing completely with the first shot and needing a very fast reload to take him down. At six foot he’s got a few inches on me and I have to resort to a fireman’s carry to get him back to base camp before the tranquilliser wears off. Still, at the end we’ve got seven bound and helpless victims laid out in a row, all of whom, except for the last, have been the recipients of Liz’s skilled fingers. I’m feeling a little fatigued so take a five minute break as Liz goes to work on the large gentleman I just brought in, watching as she skips any kind of warm up and dives right in on the attack. The looks on his team’s faces are priceless, it’s like looking at a car wreck, they seem horrified but somehow they just can’t drag their eyes away.
Within seconds it seems she’s broken him and the next few minutes must be an agony as he fights to break loose, not that he’s going to of course, those knots are way too tight for any of them to escape without help. As I stretch and walk back over to the group she stops, pulling her nails away from his feet in one motion, not giving him chance to try and adjust to a slower, gentler tickle. Show time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we appear to have a little problem.” Hmm, maybe a little too movie-like, but what the heck, good enough for this unappreciative audience. “You see over the last few months you have all seemingly come to the conclusion that you are, in some way, better than other members of the team. Specifically, you seem to have forgotten just how the pecking order works in this organisation.” Yeah, definitely verging into evil genius territory, time to change my approach a little.
“Now normally, we wouldn’t be overly bothered about this, and of course we’d never dream of any sort of retribution.” A snort from Liz threatens to set my own grin off at that one, she may only have been here a few weeks but she’s personally smacked down at least one stupid ‘request’ from every one of our vict….umm, guests.
“But then you go and try something like this. Honestly, if you’re going to try and plan something devious, at least make sure it’s good enough to fool an average six year old. This…” I flash the e-mail regarding the event at them for a second before carrying on “is just pathetic. You could have at least come up with a convincing reason to switch teams around on the day rather than announce it a week in advance.” A pause, wanting to make sure they get the next message loud and clear.
“Now if I may offer a little advice, next time, don’t do anything yourself, instead get someone to act by proxy for you. Example, if you want to set up something like this fun filled day of action, excitement and of course team building, don’t suggest it yourself, instead send an e-mail highlighting superb discount deals on such a day from what looks like a legitimate source to the boss…” I wait, it doesn’t take long for realisation to dawn and for all seven of them to start thrashing about and cursing through their gags.
“Personally, I’m willing to look on this as a learning experience. Of course, no learning experience is worth a damn without some sort of reinforcement, and we at team BOFH want to make sure you all receive the full benefits of this particular lesson. So, we’ve come up with a little team building exercise of our own to work on your interpersonal relationship skills and trust management.” I can see Liz grinning with anticipation, and for a second am almost tempted to pass this bit over to her. But no, she’s still new after all and I think I’d rather our esteemed colleagues looked on her as a silent assassin type for the moment.
“Now, as with all good team building exercises this one features an element of competition, and as with all competitions there will be a winner and, in this case, six losers The winner gets to walk out of here and return to the bus, the losers will be given a lift back to town and dropped naked in front of the train station as a reminder why it’s always best to be a winner.” I nod to Liz and she quickly starts moving amongst the captives, loosening the ropes holding arms to feet, stretching them out alongside each other in pairs then tying one persons wrists to the others ankles, being careful to match the ‘contestants’ up with someone of roughly the same height for simplicities sake.
“We’ve tried to come up with a fair form of competition that will give no advantage to one particular group over the other, and you’ve each had a taste of it already. Quite simply ladies and gentlemen, your goal is to make your partner submit before you do. The three that quit are losers, the three that don’t will go to the semi-final along with this lucky young lady” I pointed to the ‘left over’, the seventh person who we simply didn’t have a partner for and who’d received a free pass so to speak purely because there was no-one her height in the group. “ and from there we’ll find our two finalists. Oh, and in case you’re thinking this is a prisoners dilemma situation, you know, if neither of us tickle the other we both survive sort of thing, let me make this perfectly clear. I am quite happy to dump the whole lot of you in the losers bracket, makes no difference to me either way, so I suggest you really go for that big gold ring while you’ve still got the opportunity to try.”
I stepped back and stood alongside Liz as we waited, curious to see who’d start it all off. Not surprisingly it was the male half of our only mixed pair, probably working out what would happen to his reputation if he were to quit first. Without any warning he wrapped his hands around her slender feet and started flicking her skin with his fingernails. Immediately she was in hysterics, a condition that spread as everyone else worked out that now one person had started they’d better not hang around as there’d be at least one winner from this round, and they had no desire to be humiliated in public as I’d described.
Within seconds the ground before us was covered with writhing, laughing bodies, the squeaks and gasps that escaped the gags forming an almost intoxicating background noise to the days activities. Thankfully it was a dry day, or they’d all be doing this in a mud-bath, which would have made things rather unpleasant always round. The first ‘casualty’ came less than a minute in, and not surprisingly it was the man that had started it all falling prey to what appeared to be a demon tickler. I’d been watching that particular ‘match’ quite closely, and even with the few seconds his surprise attack had gained him, he hadn’t really stood a chance. She was lethal, relentless in her attack as she’d skipped the guys soles entirely and gone straight for his toes, fingers dipping in and out with a grace and delicacy that was almost breathtaking. Wandering over to the two I pulled his hands away from her feet, then retied them behind his back, the rope now looped around his waist to hold his hands securely just below the base of the spine. Job finished I walked away, the woman not questioning but, now she was out of immediate danger, switching to a more leisurely pace on his soles.
The other two pairings were far more evenly matched, though I noted with some surprise that it was actually the female coupling that was the more aggressive, while the guys seemed to be going for finesse. Liz was fixated on what was happening and I noticed the occasional twitch of her fingers as she obviously longed to get in on the action herself. Trying to refocus her energies, at least for the moment, I lean over to ask a question.
“So who’s going to win?”
“Hmmm? Oh, no question, it’s going to be her.” She said, gesturing towards the woman who’d already beaten her man and was now sending him loopy with a combined tease and tickle attack that switched from sole to toes and back with no real rhyme or reason for him to anticipate.
“Any particular reason, or just gut feeling?”
“Two reasons actually. One, she laughs quickly enough but I was really having to work to make her loose control. That’s going to make her tough to beat, not to mention frustrating as all hell for anyone up against her. Second, judging by what I just saw, she’s one of the best ticklers I’ve ever seen, hell, she could give you a run for your money.”
I laughed at that, recognising the implied challenge, the usual verbal poking for a chink in the armour. “Careful lass, flattery will get you everywhere, but too much of it will get you somewhere you don’t want to be. And for the record, if I ever do have cause to spend another session with you, it’ll be because you weren’t paying attention, and therefore wasting my time. As I don’t like wasting my time, well, let’s just say it’ll make last time look like a massage from Brad Pitt in comparison. ‘kay?”
She went to reply, but had to cut of as almost simultaneously we had our next two winners, their opponents quitting at virtually the same instant. Not wanting to waste words with this lot anymore, and anxious to get this finished, we moved quickly, securing the losers back in their hogties before matching up those that remained in the same positions for round two. In this case, the two women went together, while the sole remaining man got tied to our tickle terminator. As I finished tying him in place, he reached out with a hand and grabbed my ankle, hand wrapped around the leather of the boot and jerked back as hard as he could. It caught me off balance and I hit the ground, rolling with the impact to get my feet under me and launching back, grabbing his hands before he could even start work on the knots, forcing his right hand down to his waist.
His legs were already slightly spread thanks to the slight height difference between him and his ‘partner’, and I grabbed his hand from behind and pulled, not particularly gently either. A quick flurry of rope and his hand was secured to his waist, wrist and forearm pulled tight against his crotch. A quick look at his face showed it was obviously tight enough to hurt, though I wasn’t quite through yet. Another rope went from the rope around his waist to the ankles of the woman he was tied to, and this one was stretched as tight as I could possible make it. A final knot secured his remaining hand back in place, effectively giving him a handicap as she could use both hands on his feet, he could only use his left on hers. Just to drive home what a dumb move it had been I reached over and dragged my fingers rapidly over her soles, making sure my fingernails rather than fingertips did most of the contact. She immediately laughed, and, obeying her natural instincts, pulled away. Doing so pulled on the rope around his waist, forcing his hand to move up with it, and increasing the force of his arm on his most sensitive area. I gave hum a grin that was full of teeth and malice, then stepped back.
******
I’m sitting peacefully in the operations centre with my feet resting on a spare server and am about halfway through an exhaustive eight hour study of the inside of my eyelids when the door bursts open and my newly employed assistant bursts through muttering something about ‘those huggy-feely bastards’ and waving an e-mail printout around. On her way past I snag said print out and scan the important bits before returning to my study.
Noticing the distinct lack of concern she starts to simmer down some, grabbing the chair opposite and waiting patiently for an explanation. Not wanting to get into a debate about the relative merits, or lack thereof, of team building weekends, I pass over an e-mail of my own, and wait for her to read through it.
“Okay, so you’ve got the same e-mail, well, with a few minor details and a change of writing style difference at least. Why is that meant to reassure me?” She snaps, none the wiser.
“Look at the date.” I reply.
“Wait, this was sent a week ago to the boss?”
“Yep, I was beginning to worry the boss hadn’t taken the hint.”
“And there’s a reason you want to meet the rest of the IT department on the, how did you put it, ah, the ‘Paintball field of honour’? Aside from anything else, you are aware that the rest of our so-called team is made up of all those who mysteriously catch life-threatening illnesses the day before any team activity and recover just in time to avoid needing a doctors note, while the other side has mysteriously ended up with all the weekend warriors who do this sort of thing for fun?” She demands, and I decide it’s time to reign in on her temper before something nasty happens. Well, nasty for her anyway.
“And, by a strange coincidence, those are all the members of this department who seem to be under the mistaken opinion that we are here to clean up all the little messes and unpleasant jobs they don’t want to do.” I reply “Besides, don’t worry about it, there’s three reasons why we’ve already won this.”
“And those would be?”
”First, we have a lifetime of experience in being cunning and devious to meet the whining demands of our users, whereas the most devious thing they ever have to deal with is the photocopier. Second, with only two of us and seven of them it’s what I believe is called a target rich environment. And third, we’ll cheat.”
Liz still looks worried so heads off to nuke the recruitment server in the hopes it’ll ease her mind. I take a moment to fire off an e-mail to a specialist firearm retailer I happen to be on good credit terms with and settle back to finish my study.
Nine in the morning finds the rather smug looking team of developers and helldesk staff rolling up in a mini-bus at the paintball range, all looking disgustingly keen to get on with what I’m sure they think will be a massacre to go down in simulated warfare history. The smug factor dips a little on spotting us sitting in the flatbed of a nicely beaten up, army green, Land Rover Defender with the full military accessory kit (big metal work around the front, 4 large spotlights mounted above the cabin, that sort of thing). The fact we’re wearing our own combats, face paint and appear to be carrying weapons that definitely aren’t standard issue from this particular centre only adds to the worry and in the few seconds it takes for them to walk from bus to dressing rooms they seem to have suffered a slight moral drop. Not that it’ll be the last such drop they have today, but why spoil the surprise?
Once the other side are suited and booted we head off to our respective base camps, pausing only long enough for a few last minute adjustments to the kit in the back of the 4x4. The game is simple enough, both sides get a base camp in a reasonably defendable location, first team to get ‘killed’, looses. I shuck the rather large kit bag to the ground and a minute or two’s preparation has us ready to go. Liz stays behind as I slip into the woods, looking for a good sniper spot. A few minutes later I find just what I’m looking for and hunker down in a nice wooden hole to wait with a small greyscale screen propped up next to me with ‘asset tracking system prototype’ inscribed on a hand-written label. This might seem strange to the casual observer, but it’s surprising just how many different assets a company needs to keep track of in the field, laptops, cars, combat coveralls….
The first of our ‘assets’ slips into view after ten minutes or so, making a pretty ham-fisted job of moving quietly through the dense woodland. As she gets closer I pull my sidearm out and take aim. A muffled ‘thwip’ later and she’s down on the ground, knocked cold by the powerful, but harmless, tranquilliser dart. True, most people would consider using such a weapon as a tad unsporting but I look at it more as an exercise in proper planning. Scooping her up in my arms I hot foot it back to base camp, the tracking monitor secured to a map pocket on my right arm to make sure we don’t get jumped on-route. Once back I drop my victim off and grab a quick drink while Liz gets busy with our first guest. Within seconds she’s got her gagged, hogtied and stripped off her boots and socks. Even as I leave camp I can hear the first rustlings of struggle as the now helpless woman wakes up, shortly followed by the soft whisper of fingers on skin as Liz starts to work on her bare soles.
It takes damn near an hour to get the other six in a similar fashion, and I’m a bit careless on the last one, missing completely with the first shot and needing a very fast reload to take him down. At six foot he’s got a few inches on me and I have to resort to a fireman’s carry to get him back to base camp before the tranquilliser wears off. Still, at the end we’ve got seven bound and helpless victims laid out in a row, all of whom, except for the last, have been the recipients of Liz’s skilled fingers. I’m feeling a little fatigued so take a five minute break as Liz goes to work on the large gentleman I just brought in, watching as she skips any kind of warm up and dives right in on the attack. The looks on his team’s faces are priceless, it’s like looking at a car wreck, they seem horrified but somehow they just can’t drag their eyes away.
Within seconds it seems she’s broken him and the next few minutes must be an agony as he fights to break loose, not that he’s going to of course, those knots are way too tight for any of them to escape without help. As I stretch and walk back over to the group she stops, pulling her nails away from his feet in one motion, not giving him chance to try and adjust to a slower, gentler tickle. Show time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we appear to have a little problem.” Hmm, maybe a little too movie-like, but what the heck, good enough for this unappreciative audience. “You see over the last few months you have all seemingly come to the conclusion that you are, in some way, better than other members of the team. Specifically, you seem to have forgotten just how the pecking order works in this organisation.” Yeah, definitely verging into evil genius territory, time to change my approach a little.
“Now normally, we wouldn’t be overly bothered about this, and of course we’d never dream of any sort of retribution.” A snort from Liz threatens to set my own grin off at that one, she may only have been here a few weeks but she’s personally smacked down at least one stupid ‘request’ from every one of our vict….umm, guests.
“But then you go and try something like this. Honestly, if you’re going to try and plan something devious, at least make sure it’s good enough to fool an average six year old. This…” I flash the e-mail regarding the event at them for a second before carrying on “is just pathetic. You could have at least come up with a convincing reason to switch teams around on the day rather than announce it a week in advance.” A pause, wanting to make sure they get the next message loud and clear.
“Now if I may offer a little advice, next time, don’t do anything yourself, instead get someone to act by proxy for you. Example, if you want to set up something like this fun filled day of action, excitement and of course team building, don’t suggest it yourself, instead send an e-mail highlighting superb discount deals on such a day from what looks like a legitimate source to the boss…” I wait, it doesn’t take long for realisation to dawn and for all seven of them to start thrashing about and cursing through their gags.
“Personally, I’m willing to look on this as a learning experience. Of course, no learning experience is worth a damn without some sort of reinforcement, and we at team BOFH want to make sure you all receive the full benefits of this particular lesson. So, we’ve come up with a little team building exercise of our own to work on your interpersonal relationship skills and trust management.” I can see Liz grinning with anticipation, and for a second am almost tempted to pass this bit over to her. But no, she’s still new after all and I think I’d rather our esteemed colleagues looked on her as a silent assassin type for the moment.
“Now, as with all good team building exercises this one features an element of competition, and as with all competitions there will be a winner and, in this case, six losers The winner gets to walk out of here and return to the bus, the losers will be given a lift back to town and dropped naked in front of the train station as a reminder why it’s always best to be a winner.” I nod to Liz and she quickly starts moving amongst the captives, loosening the ropes holding arms to feet, stretching them out alongside each other in pairs then tying one persons wrists to the others ankles, being careful to match the ‘contestants’ up with someone of roughly the same height for simplicities sake.
“We’ve tried to come up with a fair form of competition that will give no advantage to one particular group over the other, and you’ve each had a taste of it already. Quite simply ladies and gentlemen, your goal is to make your partner submit before you do. The three that quit are losers, the three that don’t will go to the semi-final along with this lucky young lady” I pointed to the ‘left over’, the seventh person who we simply didn’t have a partner for and who’d received a free pass so to speak purely because there was no-one her height in the group. “ and from there we’ll find our two finalists. Oh, and in case you’re thinking this is a prisoners dilemma situation, you know, if neither of us tickle the other we both survive sort of thing, let me make this perfectly clear. I am quite happy to dump the whole lot of you in the losers bracket, makes no difference to me either way, so I suggest you really go for that big gold ring while you’ve still got the opportunity to try.”
I stepped back and stood alongside Liz as we waited, curious to see who’d start it all off. Not surprisingly it was the male half of our only mixed pair, probably working out what would happen to his reputation if he were to quit first. Without any warning he wrapped his hands around her slender feet and started flicking her skin with his fingernails. Immediately she was in hysterics, a condition that spread as everyone else worked out that now one person had started they’d better not hang around as there’d be at least one winner from this round, and they had no desire to be humiliated in public as I’d described.
Within seconds the ground before us was covered with writhing, laughing bodies, the squeaks and gasps that escaped the gags forming an almost intoxicating background noise to the days activities. Thankfully it was a dry day, or they’d all be doing this in a mud-bath, which would have made things rather unpleasant always round. The first ‘casualty’ came less than a minute in, and not surprisingly it was the man that had started it all falling prey to what appeared to be a demon tickler. I’d been watching that particular ‘match’ quite closely, and even with the few seconds his surprise attack had gained him, he hadn’t really stood a chance. She was lethal, relentless in her attack as she’d skipped the guys soles entirely and gone straight for his toes, fingers dipping in and out with a grace and delicacy that was almost breathtaking. Wandering over to the two I pulled his hands away from her feet, then retied them behind his back, the rope now looped around his waist to hold his hands securely just below the base of the spine. Job finished I walked away, the woman not questioning but, now she was out of immediate danger, switching to a more leisurely pace on his soles.
The other two pairings were far more evenly matched, though I noted with some surprise that it was actually the female coupling that was the more aggressive, while the guys seemed to be going for finesse. Liz was fixated on what was happening and I noticed the occasional twitch of her fingers as she obviously longed to get in on the action herself. Trying to refocus her energies, at least for the moment, I lean over to ask a question.
“So who’s going to win?”
“Hmmm? Oh, no question, it’s going to be her.” She said, gesturing towards the woman who’d already beaten her man and was now sending him loopy with a combined tease and tickle attack that switched from sole to toes and back with no real rhyme or reason for him to anticipate.
“Any particular reason, or just gut feeling?”
“Two reasons actually. One, she laughs quickly enough but I was really having to work to make her loose control. That’s going to make her tough to beat, not to mention frustrating as all hell for anyone up against her. Second, judging by what I just saw, she’s one of the best ticklers I’ve ever seen, hell, she could give you a run for your money.”
I laughed at that, recognising the implied challenge, the usual verbal poking for a chink in the armour. “Careful lass, flattery will get you everywhere, but too much of it will get you somewhere you don’t want to be. And for the record, if I ever do have cause to spend another session with you, it’ll be because you weren’t paying attention, and therefore wasting my time. As I don’t like wasting my time, well, let’s just say it’ll make last time look like a massage from Brad Pitt in comparison. ‘kay?”
She went to reply, but had to cut of as almost simultaneously we had our next two winners, their opponents quitting at virtually the same instant. Not wanting to waste words with this lot anymore, and anxious to get this finished, we moved quickly, securing the losers back in their hogties before matching up those that remained in the same positions for round two. In this case, the two women went together, while the sole remaining man got tied to our tickle terminator. As I finished tying him in place, he reached out with a hand and grabbed my ankle, hand wrapped around the leather of the boot and jerked back as hard as he could. It caught me off balance and I hit the ground, rolling with the impact to get my feet under me and launching back, grabbing his hands before he could even start work on the knots, forcing his right hand down to his waist.
His legs were already slightly spread thanks to the slight height difference between him and his ‘partner’, and I grabbed his hand from behind and pulled, not particularly gently either. A quick flurry of rope and his hand was secured to his waist, wrist and forearm pulled tight against his crotch. A quick look at his face showed it was obviously tight enough to hurt, though I wasn’t quite through yet. Another rope went from the rope around his waist to the ankles of the woman he was tied to, and this one was stretched as tight as I could possible make it. A final knot secured his remaining hand back in place, effectively giving him a handicap as she could use both hands on his feet, he could only use his left on hers. Just to drive home what a dumb move it had been I reached over and dragged my fingers rapidly over her soles, making sure my fingernails rather than fingertips did most of the contact. She immediately laughed, and, obeying her natural instincts, pulled away. Doing so pulled on the rope around his waist, forcing his hand to move up with it, and increasing the force of his arm on his most sensitive area. I gave hum a grin that was full of teeth and malice, then stepped back.