WestchesterT
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2002
- Messages
- 68
- Points
- 0
Part two of "Retail Wriggles" original story!
RETAIL WRIGGLES – PART II: Deb’s Turn
(mm/f, mmf/f)
Martin makes the call upstairs and soon Deb has made her way to the Product Testing Room. As her heels click across the hardwood floor, Dave and Martin turn away from their work on the new exercise unit. Her tall, lean body dressed impeccably in a Donna Karan business suit tailored to perfection immediately strikes Dave. The short skirt allows a heavenly view of her long tanned legs, designer hose clinging to her like a second skin. And those shoes…!
“Deb, thanks for coming down,” Dave begins, “I know it’s getting a little late but I really need your help.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she says dismissively, “I hope this won’t take long.”
Dave smiles, “No, Deb, this shouldn’t take long at all. Just sit here on this new universal gym set for a minute.”
“What for?” she asks suspiciously.
“Well, I was supposed to have put this new set through a bunch of tests. It’s designed for female executives who have little room in their apartments and even less time to exercise. I’m in a bind – I promised Leland I’d have the report on his desk first thing Monday morning. Please help me out here – I promise it won’t take long and you might even get a laugh out of it!” Martin almost laughed out loud at Dave’s remark.
“OK, OK,” Deb smiles. She likes Dave. As management in the company went, Dave was as fair as could be. The fact that he was attractive and worked out was making her think that she may be overlooking something good right here at work…
She sits on the padded bench and leans against the backrest, angled back about 30 degrees. Dave instructs her to hook her knees over a padded bar and rest her ankles against another padded bar further down. Her knees end up level with her chest, and her calves run parallel to, and three feet above, the floor.
“Now here’s where we need to modify this a little. There are supposed to be guides at the bar where your ankles go, and they didn’t ship with the unit. So we’re going to use these Velcro straps to simulate those ankle guides. Martin?” Dave looks to him and Martin walks into position and begins to strap one ankle down.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Deb protests, “I’m not sure I like this!”
“It’s OK, Deb,” Dave reassures her. “It’s only temporary so we can test the unit properly. I really need this info for Leland!” he says pleadingly. Deb looks into his eyes and smiles. He really is cute when he begs…
“OK,” she says with a laugh. “What the hell! All in the interest of a better product for sale, right?”
“Right,” Martin laughs as he continues with his job of securing those lovely ankles…those beautiful calves…and those shoes, housing undoubtedly a pair of fine, tender, high-arches and long, slender toes…
“Martin! Stop daydreaming! We haven’t got all night!” Dave gently ribs him. Dave knows what was going through his mind. Martin is infatuated with the female foot, as he saw when they had Stacey down there earlier.
Once Martin is done, Dave asks Deb to remove her jacket. She does and Dave hangs it on the back of his chair.
“Now, Deb, put your hands behind the butterfly attachment.”
“What?” Deb asked, puzzled.
“Well, this unit allows you to do two exercises simultaneously to save time. You’re a busy exec, you know! Your legs are positioned for leg curls, where you pull weights down with your ankles. You alternate that motion with the butterfly. Your hands go behind these pads. Your arms bent at the elbow, and you pull forward with your forearms, and they meet in front of you. It’s good exercise for the chest and upper body. Helps develop the chest area,” he winks at her.
She smiles back at his little flirtation and says, “Strap me in, Captain!”
When he’s done, her upper arms are positioned away from her sides, her elbows are bent ninety degrees and her forearms are pointing to the ceiling, her hands strapped behind the pads.
“Now try to pull your legs down at the ankles,” Dave instructs her. She does easily and Martin adds a weight. She tries again and has more difficulty, but can still do it.
“Now the butterfly.”
No problem on her first attempt. Dave adds a weight and she struggles a little to swing her forearms together in front of her. Another weight and she can barely move the pads more than about four inches forward.
Dave looks at their handiwork. He looks at Martin, who is still staring at Deb’s shoes. Their silence begins to make Deb nervous.
“So now, what, you guys?” she asks quietly, her smile just a little smaller.
“We need to talk, Deb. We have a little bit of an accounting discrepancy with some of the registers. Specifically, the ones that Stacey is assigned to,” Martin replies evenly.
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t say I’ve noticed anything unusual in her tallies,” Deb says, glancing back and forth from Martin to Dave.
Dave and Martin each add one more weight to the machine. Deb struggles mightily, but can’t budge anything. A look of panic begins to cross her face as Dave stands in front of her.
“I beg to differ, Deb,” he says as he runs across the underside of her left arm. Deb flinches involuntarily, then gasps as he does it again. She looks up at him as she begins to realize what is to come.
“Dave, this is no way to treat a valued employee! Now let me go at once or I’ll start making screaming…”
“Just tell us how you doctored the numbers, Deb, that’s all,” Martin says.
“I still don’t know…heeheehee…now stop tha-hahat, Dave, damn it…st-ooo-hop it right no-hahahahahahahahahaha…no-hohohohohohohoho…”
Dave was using just two fingers very lightly in her left armpit. “Deb, can I safely assume you’re just a wee bit ticklish?” Dave asks wickedly as she continues wriggling.
“You-hoohoo bastard! Oh, Go-hohohohod plea-heeheeheeheease stop! You have to-hoohoohoo stop…yes! Yes! OK-ah hahahahahaha…I’m ticklish, OK! Sto-hop!”
Dave does, and looks into her eyes. “Tell me what you did, Deb. Make this all stop quickly and we won’t take it any further. Either that, or…I’ll have to let Martin loose.”
Deb looked down to where Martin was positioned…right by her helpless feet. He was staring unabashedly at her heels, her last line of defense for her hopelessly sensitive soles. “Oh, no,” she says quietly, “You can’t be thinking…”
Martin smiled at her.
In a desperate voice, Deb appeals to Dave. “You HAVE to believe me…I know nothing…I don’t! Stacey must have been on her own!”
“Impossible,” replies Dave, as he motions to Martin. Martin grabs one shoe by the heel and slowly slides it off her foot. Deb tries to hold onto it, but it’s no use. He pulls it off triumphantly, then admires the shoe close up. Suddenly, he looks at Dave and says “Prada. She’s buying shoes at Prada!
“How can you afford to buy shoes there, Deb? Unless you have some sort of supplemental income!”
Deb quickly shakes her head, but can’t come up with a response quickly enough. In that moment, Martin uses his forefinger to quickly stroke her stockinged foot up and down the entire length. The reaction was very gratifying.
Deb’s body jerked upward and as she screamed, then began laughing hysterically as Martin continues his foot torture. “AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
OH NO – STO-OO-OO-O-OOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOP! OH…OH…OH…NO-
HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!”
Martin pops the other shoe off, but Deb doesn’t notice as she continues thrashing and laughing. Martin, using one hand on each foot, now begins an all-out assault on her both her arches. Deb’s laughter rings off the walls. Martin works feverishly on her splendidly high arches, curved perfectly to accept his wiggling fingers. He slowly begins an ascent up the arch and pauses at the balls of her feet when he hears her laughter hit a new high. Her entire body is shaking and her head is rocking back and forth wildly. Her perfect toes mesmerize Martin, and his fingers resume their ascent again, this time pausing at the base of her toes. Deb’s body gives a sudden jolt.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she screams as his fingers devilishly coax fresh paroxysms of laughter from her. “NO! NO-OOOOOOOOOOOO-HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! OH…OH…OH….” She is hyperventilating as Martin has stopped on Dave’s signal and is still shaking her head side to side.
Dave stands over her helpless frame as she regains her composure. “Well, Deb…what can you tell us?”
“Nuh…nothing…I know nothing, I swear…Stacey…and I…don’t know…anything…” Deb struggles to speak as her breathing comes in gasps.
On another signal from Dave, Martin disappears and returns pushing Stacey, bound to an office chair, into the room. Stacey looks exhausted and can barely keep her head up.
“Perhaps if you won’t talk to save yourself, you’ll talk to save your friend Stacey here,” Dave says smilingly to Deb. With that, Martin lifts Stacey’s bound feet up onto his lap and begins vigorously scraping his fingernails across her soft, sensitive soles. Stacey’s eyes immediately spring wide open and an almost maniacal laughter bursts from her lips.
“AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…AH…HAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHA….AH…AH…AH…” Stacey’s tired lungs cannot keep up with the demand for air and she continues silently as Deb looks on in horror.
“Stop it! Stop it right now! You’re killing her!”
“Only YOU can stop it, Deb. Tell us how you and Stacey hid your cash register thefts for so long. Hmmm? Come on…look at her! We’ve been working on her for an hour and all she’ll tell us is that YOU were the brains behind it!” Dave accuses.
“She’s crazy! I never did any such thing! She must have used someone else in accounting! I NEVER partnered with her – she’s lying! I’m totally innocent!”
Martin stopped tickling poor Stacey as Deb started her speech, and Stacey is now staring at her with venom in her eyes, her breathing deep but under control. “Let me at her,” she says, barely above a whisper.
Dave turns, surprised. “What did you say?”
In a slightly stronger voice, Stacey says “I said, let me at that bitch! I can’t believe she’s trying to sacrifice me! You…BITCH!!” Stacey tries to lunge at Deb from the chair, but she is securely fastened. Confused, Martin looks at Dave, who shrugs and says, “OK, Stacey. She’s all yours!” With a couple of deft pulls on the Velcro straps, Stacey springs out of her chair, an unleashed tigress with her prey in sight. Deb screams in fear as Stacey streaks toward her, then jumps on top of her and digs her fingers deep into Deb’s ribcage.
Stacey’s thin, strong and expert fingers immediately overcome Deb. “WHOA-HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO…PLEA-HEEHEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! DON’T – NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Stacey has a mean, determined look on her face as her fingers dance along Deb’s ticklish sides. She is the concert pianist and Deb’s ribs are her Steinway.
Deb’s body bucks up and down, but Stacey holds firm, never letting go of her target. Dave and Martin stare at this display, impressed – and more than a little turned on -by her tickling savvy.
Deb’s face turns red as her laughter continues unabated. “Ah-HAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH…OH...NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…NO MORE!…NO MO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOORE!”
Stacey stops and waits for Deb to regain close to normal breathing. “Tell them, you lying bitch…tell them how you cooked the accounting reports to cover what I pull from the tills! NOW!!!” and she gives her another deep, wicked tickle in the ribs.
“No-HOHOHOHO! I don’t…know what you’re…talking about…”
Stacey turns to Martin and Dave. You each have a favorite place to tickle, right, guys?” she asks with a wicked smile on her face. Martin immediately volunteers, “Oh, yeah! I want a shot at those feet again!”
Dave replies, “She’s got sweet, smooth armpits. I want a piece of those babies!”
“Fine,” Stacey says as she gets off Deb. “You’ve got upper body; Martin’s got the feet; I’ll take somewhere you gentlemen shouldn’t go…”
Dave and Martin exchange pleased glances and take their positions. Deb pleads, between gulps of air, “Come on, you guys…you’ve got your thief…it’s her! Take her away…don’t let her use you like this…”
Suddenly Dave and Martin dive into their tasks, ending her pleas. Dave loves running his fingers softly and swiftly inside a woman’s armpits and down to the upper ribcage and back. The effect was heartily satisfying as Deb is immediately made into a helpless laughing puppet in his hands. Martin, meanwhile, has pulled the toes of her right foot back and, after admiring the lovely shape and feel of her nylon-encased foot, begins his own finger dance from the base of her perfect ticklish toes to the smooth ball of her foot to that magnificent instep…It is a dream come true for Martin, as her peals of laughter are a song for him…the scent of her feet…the way they wave hopelessly, trying to get away…the feel of –
“MARTIN! Wake up, man! You’re like, in a trance! Lighten up a little on her feet!” Stacey tells him with a slight pat on the shoulder. Martin grins sheepishly and slows down his tickle torture of Deb’s feet.
Stacey begins running her hands up Deb’s inner thighs as Deb, still laughing from Dave’s and Martin’s continued – though less intense – tickling, looks at her with pleading eyes. Stacey sees the look, but is not about to give Deb any mercy.
Deb’s expensive, supersmooth pantyhose are betraying her now. Stacey perfectly manicured nails glide effortlessly over the fabric, sending chilling, electric tingles through Deb’s body. Her laughter intensifies as Stacey probes for a particularly weak spot – and finds it.
“HEE-HEE-HEEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEHEE-EEEEEEEEEEE…
EEE-HEEHEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE….NO, PLEA-HEEEEEEEEEEEEASE NOT THERE, STACEY-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”
“Not until you ‘fess up, bitch! I can’t believe I trusted you! And here you were going to leave me alone to carry the whole blame! Why, I oughtta…” and she quickened her tickle, making Deb lift her body off the table. As if cued, Dave reaches over and digs into her delicious ribs, and Martin succumbs to his fantasies and attacks her gorgeous feet with renewed vigor. Deb is now a wriggling, bucking, head-banging puppet in their hands and for a few minutes the sound of her laughter reaches and stays at siren level.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!…OH NOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STO-HOOOOOOOOOP!
PLE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! NO NO NOHOHOHOHO!… OOOH WHOHOO-
HOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
They finally stop and, when she is able to speak, Deb begs “No more! Please!…No more! I can’t take it!…Oh please no! Oh God no!…I’ll tell you…but please…PLEASE no more tickling!…Please, I promise! I’ll tell…”
Sure enough, Deb details the entire plot, including how she cajoled and threatened Stacey into cooperating, pulling hundreds per week from the registers she worked on. Deb covered the losses in the books when Stacey brought her sheets to her. Stacey had been too afraid to cross Deb and kept quiet, For her trouble and silence, Deb gave her 10% of the take. “A lousy 10%?” Dave is astounded. Stacey, her eyes lowered, nods.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Dave comes up to accounting and sees Martin through his open office door. “Hey, Martin, how’s it going?”
Martin looks toward Dave and has a blissful smile on his face. “I’ve NEVER been better, man!”
Dave, curious, begins walking toward the door. When he comes within a few feet, he can see more of the office in front of Martin’s desk. There he sees a beautiful pair of legs, encased in full-fashioned nylons, with a killer high-heeled shoe dangling precariously from the very tip of her toe. As Dave comes closer, he sees the stocking tops, the short skirt, then finally the rest of the body. She looks up and smiles at Dave as he grins widely.
“Dave, this is my new assistant. You remember Stacey, don’t you?”
from the quill of the Westchester Tickler
RETAIL WRIGGLES – PART II: Deb’s Turn
(mm/f, mmf/f)
Martin makes the call upstairs and soon Deb has made her way to the Product Testing Room. As her heels click across the hardwood floor, Dave and Martin turn away from their work on the new exercise unit. Her tall, lean body dressed impeccably in a Donna Karan business suit tailored to perfection immediately strikes Dave. The short skirt allows a heavenly view of her long tanned legs, designer hose clinging to her like a second skin. And those shoes…!
“Deb, thanks for coming down,” Dave begins, “I know it’s getting a little late but I really need your help.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she says dismissively, “I hope this won’t take long.”
Dave smiles, “No, Deb, this shouldn’t take long at all. Just sit here on this new universal gym set for a minute.”
“What for?” she asks suspiciously.
“Well, I was supposed to have put this new set through a bunch of tests. It’s designed for female executives who have little room in their apartments and even less time to exercise. I’m in a bind – I promised Leland I’d have the report on his desk first thing Monday morning. Please help me out here – I promise it won’t take long and you might even get a laugh out of it!” Martin almost laughed out loud at Dave’s remark.
“OK, OK,” Deb smiles. She likes Dave. As management in the company went, Dave was as fair as could be. The fact that he was attractive and worked out was making her think that she may be overlooking something good right here at work…
She sits on the padded bench and leans against the backrest, angled back about 30 degrees. Dave instructs her to hook her knees over a padded bar and rest her ankles against another padded bar further down. Her knees end up level with her chest, and her calves run parallel to, and three feet above, the floor.
“Now here’s where we need to modify this a little. There are supposed to be guides at the bar where your ankles go, and they didn’t ship with the unit. So we’re going to use these Velcro straps to simulate those ankle guides. Martin?” Dave looks to him and Martin walks into position and begins to strap one ankle down.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Deb protests, “I’m not sure I like this!”
“It’s OK, Deb,” Dave reassures her. “It’s only temporary so we can test the unit properly. I really need this info for Leland!” he says pleadingly. Deb looks into his eyes and smiles. He really is cute when he begs…
“OK,” she says with a laugh. “What the hell! All in the interest of a better product for sale, right?”
“Right,” Martin laughs as he continues with his job of securing those lovely ankles…those beautiful calves…and those shoes, housing undoubtedly a pair of fine, tender, high-arches and long, slender toes…
“Martin! Stop daydreaming! We haven’t got all night!” Dave gently ribs him. Dave knows what was going through his mind. Martin is infatuated with the female foot, as he saw when they had Stacey down there earlier.
Once Martin is done, Dave asks Deb to remove her jacket. She does and Dave hangs it on the back of his chair.
“Now, Deb, put your hands behind the butterfly attachment.”
“What?” Deb asked, puzzled.
“Well, this unit allows you to do two exercises simultaneously to save time. You’re a busy exec, you know! Your legs are positioned for leg curls, where you pull weights down with your ankles. You alternate that motion with the butterfly. Your hands go behind these pads. Your arms bent at the elbow, and you pull forward with your forearms, and they meet in front of you. It’s good exercise for the chest and upper body. Helps develop the chest area,” he winks at her.
She smiles back at his little flirtation and says, “Strap me in, Captain!”
When he’s done, her upper arms are positioned away from her sides, her elbows are bent ninety degrees and her forearms are pointing to the ceiling, her hands strapped behind the pads.
“Now try to pull your legs down at the ankles,” Dave instructs her. She does easily and Martin adds a weight. She tries again and has more difficulty, but can still do it.
“Now the butterfly.”
No problem on her first attempt. Dave adds a weight and she struggles a little to swing her forearms together in front of her. Another weight and she can barely move the pads more than about four inches forward.
Dave looks at their handiwork. He looks at Martin, who is still staring at Deb’s shoes. Their silence begins to make Deb nervous.
“So now, what, you guys?” she asks quietly, her smile just a little smaller.
“We need to talk, Deb. We have a little bit of an accounting discrepancy with some of the registers. Specifically, the ones that Stacey is assigned to,” Martin replies evenly.
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t say I’ve noticed anything unusual in her tallies,” Deb says, glancing back and forth from Martin to Dave.
Dave and Martin each add one more weight to the machine. Deb struggles mightily, but can’t budge anything. A look of panic begins to cross her face as Dave stands in front of her.
“I beg to differ, Deb,” he says as he runs across the underside of her left arm. Deb flinches involuntarily, then gasps as he does it again. She looks up at him as she begins to realize what is to come.
“Dave, this is no way to treat a valued employee! Now let me go at once or I’ll start making screaming…”
“Just tell us how you doctored the numbers, Deb, that’s all,” Martin says.
“I still don’t know…heeheehee…now stop tha-hahat, Dave, damn it…st-ooo-hop it right no-hahahahahahahahahaha…no-hohohohohohohoho…”
Dave was using just two fingers very lightly in her left armpit. “Deb, can I safely assume you’re just a wee bit ticklish?” Dave asks wickedly as she continues wriggling.
“You-hoohoo bastard! Oh, Go-hohohohod plea-heeheeheeheease stop! You have to-hoohoohoo stop…yes! Yes! OK-ah hahahahahaha…I’m ticklish, OK! Sto-hop!”
Dave does, and looks into her eyes. “Tell me what you did, Deb. Make this all stop quickly and we won’t take it any further. Either that, or…I’ll have to let Martin loose.”
Deb looked down to where Martin was positioned…right by her helpless feet. He was staring unabashedly at her heels, her last line of defense for her hopelessly sensitive soles. “Oh, no,” she says quietly, “You can’t be thinking…”
Martin smiled at her.
In a desperate voice, Deb appeals to Dave. “You HAVE to believe me…I know nothing…I don’t! Stacey must have been on her own!”
“Impossible,” replies Dave, as he motions to Martin. Martin grabs one shoe by the heel and slowly slides it off her foot. Deb tries to hold onto it, but it’s no use. He pulls it off triumphantly, then admires the shoe close up. Suddenly, he looks at Dave and says “Prada. She’s buying shoes at Prada!
“How can you afford to buy shoes there, Deb? Unless you have some sort of supplemental income!”
Deb quickly shakes her head, but can’t come up with a response quickly enough. In that moment, Martin uses his forefinger to quickly stroke her stockinged foot up and down the entire length. The reaction was very gratifying.
Deb’s body jerked upward and as she screamed, then began laughing hysterically as Martin continues his foot torture. “AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
OH NO – STO-OO-OO-O-OOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOP! OH…OH…OH…NO-
HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!”
Martin pops the other shoe off, but Deb doesn’t notice as she continues thrashing and laughing. Martin, using one hand on each foot, now begins an all-out assault on her both her arches. Deb’s laughter rings off the walls. Martin works feverishly on her splendidly high arches, curved perfectly to accept his wiggling fingers. He slowly begins an ascent up the arch and pauses at the balls of her feet when he hears her laughter hit a new high. Her entire body is shaking and her head is rocking back and forth wildly. Her perfect toes mesmerize Martin, and his fingers resume their ascent again, this time pausing at the base of her toes. Deb’s body gives a sudden jolt.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she screams as his fingers devilishly coax fresh paroxysms of laughter from her. “NO! NO-OOOOOOOOOOOO-HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! OH…OH…OH….” She is hyperventilating as Martin has stopped on Dave’s signal and is still shaking her head side to side.
Dave stands over her helpless frame as she regains her composure. “Well, Deb…what can you tell us?”
“Nuh…nothing…I know nothing, I swear…Stacey…and I…don’t know…anything…” Deb struggles to speak as her breathing comes in gasps.
On another signal from Dave, Martin disappears and returns pushing Stacey, bound to an office chair, into the room. Stacey looks exhausted and can barely keep her head up.
“Perhaps if you won’t talk to save yourself, you’ll talk to save your friend Stacey here,” Dave says smilingly to Deb. With that, Martin lifts Stacey’s bound feet up onto his lap and begins vigorously scraping his fingernails across her soft, sensitive soles. Stacey’s eyes immediately spring wide open and an almost maniacal laughter bursts from her lips.
“AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…AH…HAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHA….AH…AH…AH…” Stacey’s tired lungs cannot keep up with the demand for air and she continues silently as Deb looks on in horror.
“Stop it! Stop it right now! You’re killing her!”
“Only YOU can stop it, Deb. Tell us how you and Stacey hid your cash register thefts for so long. Hmmm? Come on…look at her! We’ve been working on her for an hour and all she’ll tell us is that YOU were the brains behind it!” Dave accuses.
“She’s crazy! I never did any such thing! She must have used someone else in accounting! I NEVER partnered with her – she’s lying! I’m totally innocent!”
Martin stopped tickling poor Stacey as Deb started her speech, and Stacey is now staring at her with venom in her eyes, her breathing deep but under control. “Let me at her,” she says, barely above a whisper.
Dave turns, surprised. “What did you say?”
In a slightly stronger voice, Stacey says “I said, let me at that bitch! I can’t believe she’s trying to sacrifice me! You…BITCH!!” Stacey tries to lunge at Deb from the chair, but she is securely fastened. Confused, Martin looks at Dave, who shrugs and says, “OK, Stacey. She’s all yours!” With a couple of deft pulls on the Velcro straps, Stacey springs out of her chair, an unleashed tigress with her prey in sight. Deb screams in fear as Stacey streaks toward her, then jumps on top of her and digs her fingers deep into Deb’s ribcage.
Stacey’s thin, strong and expert fingers immediately overcome Deb. “WHOA-HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO…PLEA-HEEHEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! DON’T – NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Stacey has a mean, determined look on her face as her fingers dance along Deb’s ticklish sides. She is the concert pianist and Deb’s ribs are her Steinway.
Deb’s body bucks up and down, but Stacey holds firm, never letting go of her target. Dave and Martin stare at this display, impressed – and more than a little turned on -by her tickling savvy.
Deb’s face turns red as her laughter continues unabated. “Ah-HAHAHAHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH…OH...NO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…NO MORE!…NO MO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOORE!”
Stacey stops and waits for Deb to regain close to normal breathing. “Tell them, you lying bitch…tell them how you cooked the accounting reports to cover what I pull from the tills! NOW!!!” and she gives her another deep, wicked tickle in the ribs.
“No-HOHOHOHO! I don’t…know what you’re…talking about…”
Stacey turns to Martin and Dave. You each have a favorite place to tickle, right, guys?” she asks with a wicked smile on her face. Martin immediately volunteers, “Oh, yeah! I want a shot at those feet again!”
Dave replies, “She’s got sweet, smooth armpits. I want a piece of those babies!”
“Fine,” Stacey says as she gets off Deb. “You’ve got upper body; Martin’s got the feet; I’ll take somewhere you gentlemen shouldn’t go…”
Dave and Martin exchange pleased glances and take their positions. Deb pleads, between gulps of air, “Come on, you guys…you’ve got your thief…it’s her! Take her away…don’t let her use you like this…”
Suddenly Dave and Martin dive into their tasks, ending her pleas. Dave loves running his fingers softly and swiftly inside a woman’s armpits and down to the upper ribcage and back. The effect was heartily satisfying as Deb is immediately made into a helpless laughing puppet in his hands. Martin, meanwhile, has pulled the toes of her right foot back and, after admiring the lovely shape and feel of her nylon-encased foot, begins his own finger dance from the base of her perfect ticklish toes to the smooth ball of her foot to that magnificent instep…It is a dream come true for Martin, as her peals of laughter are a song for him…the scent of her feet…the way they wave hopelessly, trying to get away…the feel of –
“MARTIN! Wake up, man! You’re like, in a trance! Lighten up a little on her feet!” Stacey tells him with a slight pat on the shoulder. Martin grins sheepishly and slows down his tickle torture of Deb’s feet.
Stacey begins running her hands up Deb’s inner thighs as Deb, still laughing from Dave’s and Martin’s continued – though less intense – tickling, looks at her with pleading eyes. Stacey sees the look, but is not about to give Deb any mercy.
Deb’s expensive, supersmooth pantyhose are betraying her now. Stacey perfectly manicured nails glide effortlessly over the fabric, sending chilling, electric tingles through Deb’s body. Her laughter intensifies as Stacey probes for a particularly weak spot – and finds it.
“HEE-HEE-HEEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEHEE-EEEEEEEEEEE…
EEE-HEEHEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE….NO, PLEA-HEEEEEEEEEEEEASE NOT THERE, STACEY-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”
“Not until you ‘fess up, bitch! I can’t believe I trusted you! And here you were going to leave me alone to carry the whole blame! Why, I oughtta…” and she quickened her tickle, making Deb lift her body off the table. As if cued, Dave reaches over and digs into her delicious ribs, and Martin succumbs to his fantasies and attacks her gorgeous feet with renewed vigor. Deb is now a wriggling, bucking, head-banging puppet in their hands and for a few minutes the sound of her laughter reaches and stays at siren level.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!…OH NOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STO-HOOOOOOOOOP!
PLE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! NO NO NOHOHOHOHO!… OOOH WHOHOO-
HOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
They finally stop and, when she is able to speak, Deb begs “No more! Please!…No more! I can’t take it!…Oh please no! Oh God no!…I’ll tell you…but please…PLEASE no more tickling!…Please, I promise! I’ll tell…”
Sure enough, Deb details the entire plot, including how she cajoled and threatened Stacey into cooperating, pulling hundreds per week from the registers she worked on. Deb covered the losses in the books when Stacey brought her sheets to her. Stacey had been too afraid to cross Deb and kept quiet, For her trouble and silence, Deb gave her 10% of the take. “A lousy 10%?” Dave is astounded. Stacey, her eyes lowered, nods.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Dave comes up to accounting and sees Martin through his open office door. “Hey, Martin, how’s it going?”
Martin looks toward Dave and has a blissful smile on his face. “I’ve NEVER been better, man!”
Dave, curious, begins walking toward the door. When he comes within a few feet, he can see more of the office in front of Martin’s desk. There he sees a beautiful pair of legs, encased in full-fashioned nylons, with a killer high-heeled shoe dangling precariously from the very tip of her toe. As Dave comes closer, he sees the stocking tops, the short skirt, then finally the rest of the body. She looks up and smiles at Dave as he grins widely.
“Dave, this is my new assistant. You remember Stacey, don’t you?”
from the quill of the Westchester Tickler
