WestchesterT
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This is the original story I wrote in 1999 called "Ticklish Exec Gets His", which I pared done for a tickling session with Mariah at Hidden Chamber - which I wrote and posted here. Anyway, this story is more intense and, for those who like a good f/m trickle, a lot of fun!
Enjoy!
Ticklish Executive Gets His
(fffff/m)
The five assistants got together in the conference room for their meeting and things were getting a little heated.
“You know, he’s just giving us lip service. He has no intentions of giving us what we deserve,” says Cindy, who called the meeting. “If we want to have our salaries match the level of other assistants around the city, we have to pressure him. I’ve called him in for a meeting with us at 5PM and I have a plan.” They huddle at the conference table and whisper conspiratorially.
At 5 PM, Len Walsh walks in and takes his seat at the head of the conference table. Despite being department head, he’s not much on ceremony, and everyone simply calls him Len.
“Len, you know what our positions are worth out in the market right now. Bright young girls with computer skills, their futures ahead of them…we need to have a least a 15% adjustment in our salaries just to be competitive…” Cindy begins, getting right to her point.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cindy, you know what our budget is like. I have a 3% pool of money to divvy up, and no more. How can I justify jumping up to 15%?” Len responded.
“Look, Len, we’ve all been here at least a year, we know our jobs and we’re good. Profits are higher than last year, so the money’s there – and we helped put it there!” argues Jessica.
“I know and, believe me, nobody wants to do this more than I do…but I can’t. I promise you that I will do everything I can to get that salary adjustment put into next year’s budget. You have my word on that.” Silence fills the room.
Wendy, sitting closest to Len on his right, leans over a little and offers a cleavage shot. “I’m sure you can do a little better than that, Len.”
Monica, on his left, slowly and deliberately crosses her long, stockinged leg and begins to let her show dangle from her foot. Len, despite himself, can’t turn his eyes away. “You know, Len, this whole thing can be very pleasant for everyone involved…” She begins to rub her foot along the front of his leg.
He looks over the five of them, smiles at Cindy – who he had an affair with last year – and stands up, after making a slight adjustment to his pants to cover up his boner. As tempting as all this was, he was treading on dangerous ground – and he has other motivation for saying no. He can’t give in on this one.
“I’ll make the 3% effective immediately and I’ll make sure we get that other 12% in for next year. OK, girls? Now I’ve got to go and I’m sorry…really. You understand what it’s like dealing with the finance department.” The five assistants all walk to the door. Jessica and Monica block his exit. The two who were silent during the meeting, the two newest ones, run their hands under his suit jacket.
Cindy says “OK, Len, we understand. But we all met before and decided that you’ve been a really good boss and you’ve fought hard for us on this and we want to thank you for all your efforts. I can only think of one way to do it…right girls?” They all smile and nod and join in the seduction. With five pairs of hands, his jacket, tie shirt are made to disappear off his frame quickly and Cindy undoes his pants, whipping the belt of in one yank, making his pants drop in one motion. Len is a little overwhelmed, but goes with the flow. As they caress and fondle, they lead him to the table and lay him on it. His shoes and socks disappear and he is completely in their power when suddenly he hears a series of clicks…and realizes his arms and legs have been secured with cuffs to the legs under the table.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks with a hint of worry in his voice. He’s hoping they’re just a little kinky, but he’s not too sure.
“Len, we need to resolve this whole salary issue before we leave this room. 3% now and a promise for next year just doesn’t cut it!’ Cindy states.
“Cindy, you know I can’t. My hands are tied…” He realizes the irony immediately.
“Oh, we know, Len,” she smiles. “And you know, since we dated a year ago, I let my friends here in on a little secret about you.”
Len is beginning to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Cindy, standing next to his feet, runs her fingernails up his right foot.
Len howls with laughter, as Cindy and the others laugh at his reaction. “See? I told you girls.” She looks at Len, a wicked grin on her face. “You’re quite ticklish, aren’t you, Len? Very, very ticklish!” as she gives him a final swipe across his peds to drive home her point.
Len quickly composes himself, trying to regain control. “Cindy, this is crazy! You can’t torture me here – people will hear, there’ll be a scandal!”
“Len, it’s almost 5:30, everyone’s gone, the room is soundproof for those top-secret pow-wows you love to have, and the cleaning crew’s not due until seven. So who’s gonna save you from THIS, huh?” and she begins using her long, manicured on both feet as Len can do nothing but struggle and laugh. The other four jump in, attacking his armpits, ribs and stomach, with Jessica joining Cindy at his feet. Using two hands on each foot, Len is quickly turned into a quivering mass of laughter.
After 5 minutes of intense torture, he is asked again about the financial compensation. “I can’t…I can’t…” he whispers as his body continues shaking.
“Why not?” demands Monica, menacingly waving her nails over his stomach.
“No..please…no more…I just can’t…I - HAHAHAHAHAHA” as Monica deviously glides her fingernails over his defenseless tummy.
Len can barely speak as she does this but struggles to say “I can’t…I can’t…. because…because…if I go over budget, I don’t get a bonus!”
Now, Len has five pissed off assistants on his hands. This was not information he wanted them to have, but it was too late to take back.
“You BASTARD! You lied to us…you…you BASTARD!” screams Monica. “Get him!” as all five converge on him with renewed energy. They are merciless now, and Len’s screams of laughter are horrifying. After five minutes of angry, vengeful tickling, they stop.
“You know,” Cindy says as Len gasps for air on the table, “I think I can change his tune. Give me a few minutes alone – just his body and my fingernails…he’ll break.”
“You know, Cindy, I had a boyfriend once who was ticklish, and I had him eating out of my hands. I can break Len, no problem,” says a confident Monica.
The two new girls look at each other and one of them ventures “I think if we try together, we can break him!” as the other giggles.
“Oh, yeah, well I think I can and I’m willing to bet $100!” says Jessica.
“Oh, you can count me in on THAT action!” agrees Cindy, with a gleam in her eye.
Len’s eyes dart from one to the other as they declare their confidence in breaking him through tickle torture and he begins pleading for his sanity. “You can’t do this to me. Someone’s going to hear…someone’s got to hear…HE-E-ELP!” he shouts in desperation.
Cindy approaches him. “It’s no use, Len. You’re our tickle toy until you can come up with 15%. It’s your choice: 15% or we tickle you senseless. So…what’s it gonna be?”
“Please, Cindy, you know I can’t…” his voice trails off as he realizes they won’t buy it. He’s doomed, unless he’s willing to give up that bonus. No way!
“OK, girls, I’ll tell you what. Let’s let Molly and Laura start. They have 5 minutes. If Len doesn’t give up, Jessie is next in seniority, then Monica.” She turns to face Len, “Then it’s MY turn and I’m gonna make you suffer, baby! You better hope one of the others breaks you first, because I know you all too well.”
Len is breaking out into a cold sweat and doesn’t even see Molly and Laura approach. They’re young and energetic and each attacks his armpits and feet with gusto. Len’s laughter is loud and non-stop as they don’t let up for their entire allotted 5 minutes.
“Time!” shouts Cindy, looking up from her wristwatch. Len lay there laughing and gasping. “Damn, I thought we’d get him!” Molly says sadly. “I could’ve used the $100.”
“Rookie mistake, Molly”, says Jessie. “You have to give him a chance to talk, to say he gives up. You never let up! Here, let me show you how it’s done,” she says as she strolls over to a shivering Len. She sits on the table next to him, and leans over and whispers “OK, Len, say you’ll give us the 15% or you get some of this” and she gives him a quick but deep rib-tickle.
Len bucks and laughs, but manages a “No way!” “OK, Len, your choice!” and she starts tickling his ribs in earnest. Len’s helpless laughter fills the room again for a couple of minutes until she stops. “OK, Len. Now once again: 15% or tickle-torture?”
Len can’t speak and Jessie repeats her questions. Len, still gasping for breath, vigorously shakes his head side to side. Jessie renews her rib assault, stopping only at the 4-minute mark.
“Last chance, Len: 15% or tickles?” When Len stares back defiantly, she dives into his armpits, and Len howls with laughter. At 4:50, Jessie asks one last time. Len, with tears in his eyes, whispers “You can’t break me, bitch!” Jessie angrily goes at him, but just then Cindy shouts “Time!”
Monica saunters over and tries a different approach. She sits next to him and stretches her legs over his body, running her heels over his midsection, poking her spikes into his underarms. He giggles and writhes, but his erection visibly grows. She poses one foot near his face and lets her shoe dangle from it. Len stares at it lustfully.
“Can’t take your eyes off of it, can you, Lenny-boy? You like it? I can tell you do. You know what else? It’s probably the most ticklish foot in the world, too. It’s got you mesmerized, but if you could grab it and tickle it, I’d be mush in your hands,” she continues in a husky voice. “But you can’t get to it. Look at that foot…such a beautiful, high arch, don’t you think?…those stockings you lust for…so close…so ticklish…Too bad, huh? Instead…I …have … YOU!” and she leans toward his feet and, holding his toes back, starts rapidly running her nails back and forth across his instep. As Len begins hysterically laughing again, Monica lets her shoes drop and she runs her soles over Len’s face. She giggles as his laughing lips tickle the bottoms of her feet, and she enjoys the feeling. Len, in his torture, cannot even enjoy the view of her lovely stocking-clad feet.
After 3 minutes, she stops and gets off the table. “So, Len, how about that 15%” she asks. Len is shaking, giggling and seemingly unable to answer. “What’s the matter, tickle boy?” she asks in a baby voice. “Does it tickle too much? Is it too tickly for Lenny, huh?” she continues as she reaches into her purse. She withdraws a vibrator and turns it on. Len’s eyes shoot open.
“I see I have your attention, Len. So: 15% or more tickles?”
Len sets his jaw determinedly and shakes his head no. Monica resumes her baby voice and says “Poor , tickly little Len…what cute, ticklish underarms he has” as she presses the vibrator into the middle of his armpit. Len convulses in laughter and begs for mercy. With her free hand, she begins tickling the other armpit. New paroxysms of laughter shake his body as he helplessly endures Monica’s torture. At 4:45, Monica asks for a final time. Len is on the verge of passing out, and refuses to answer. Monica almost feels sorry for him, then give him a few more seconds of armpit tickling before Cindy, with a big smile on her face, yells “Time! Now you’re mine, you little shit.”
Cindy had been quietly standing there, keeping track of the time…and slowly filing her fingernails to points. She made sure she stood in Len’s view the throughout the ordeal, and Len had noticed with the nail file in her hands.
“Well, Len, I think you’ve noticed I’ve been filing my nails especially for you!” she says with a evil grin. Now Len can barely react as Cindy walks to the foot of the table.
“Let’s go over that percentage we were asking for. How many was it? Let’s see…one!” and with that, she dragged the nail on her index finger up the entire length of Len’s left foot. He shrieked and arched his back high off the table. She counts two, three, four…each time repeating the fingernail drag, alternating feet. Each time Len reacts as if jolted by electricity.
Len begs desperately, knowing she would get even more devious later. :Cindy, you’ve got to understa-AAAAAAAAAAND-HAHAHA….oh, that I really really ca-HAAAA-HAHAHA can’t do this…please you’ve got to sto-HOOOOOOOOOOOP please…oh, please…”
“Fourteen…FIFTEEN!” and she punctuated the final number with all ten fingers attacking both feet. She then stopped and stared at his quivering body, thoroughly enjoying the power.
“Now where was that tickle spot?… I think it was here!” as she scrapes his left heel. “Or was it here?” as she scrapes his instep, getting much more of a response. “Here, maybe” as she scrapes the ball of his foot, making Len laugh even more loudly. Her fingernails then very slowly trace their way upwards from the heel again, very deliberately toward his major weak spot. When she got to the ball of the foot and wasn’t stopping, he knew he was in deep, deep trouble.
“Cindy, no please…don’t do it…you’ll kill me…please not there!” he begs.
“That’s kind of the point, Len. The more ticklish the spot, the worse the torture, the more chance you’ll give in. Plus that $100 of Jessie’s will be mine, too. So tell me, is that spot just under your toes still ridiculously ticklish?” Len pleads for his life earnestly now “Oh God no, Cindy…please…you can’t…don’t ple-ee-eease don’t!”
“Sorry, Len, but this is exactly what you deserve. Last time now: 15%…or do I tickle you to death?”
“Cindy, please, don’t…”
“Len, you stubborn little shit! I have three words for you: kitchy…kitchy… KOO-OO!”
as she bends his toes back and runs her nails back and forth just where the base of his toes end along the very top of the ball of his foot. His laughter hits a previously unheard level.
“AH-HAHAHAHA-HAHAHA-HAHAHA………PLE-EE-EEEEEASE………...NO-O-O-HOHOHOHOHO GOD NO-O-O-HOHOHO…”
“As she continues, she turns to the other four girls and states confidently “He’s dead meat now, guys. He can’t take this for very long. He is pure putty in my hands. Aren’t you, tickle boy?!” Len’s body squirms, bucks, writhes uncontrollably and his laughter continues unabated. In between fits of laughter, he babbles something completely incoherent. A plea for mercy? No one can quite tell, as they exchange glances of admiration over Cindy’s superior knowledge and technique. Cindy stops after a minute and says “I’m taking it easy on you, stopping this soon. Now: 15% or I’ll REALLY let you have it.”
Len’s eyes betray his fear, but he knows he is so close…just a few more minutes and he’ll have survived, his bonus intact. If he quits now, the past 20 minutes of torture will have been for nothing.
In a hoarse whisper, he says, “No, Cindy, I’m not going to let a little weakness do me in. No 15% and that’s final. Do your worst!”
Cindy smiled and replies “I was hoping you’d say that, tickle boy. Stay right there – don’t move!” That causes the other girls to laugh as Len struggles against his bonds.
Cindy removes her hairbrush from her bag, the one Len knows so well with the nylon bristles. “Oh God,” he whispers hoarsely, “She IS going to kill me!”
“Oh, you bet, Len. You know what this will do to you. So what about the 15%?”
“NO!” he says emphatically.
Cindy leans over. “Final answer?”
“Final answer,” he sighs.
“Wrong answer, Len. You don’t get to be a millionaire… you just get ultimately tortured by the expert!” she says as she walks to his feet once again. On the previously untickled right foot, she bends his toes back and vigorously runs the brush back and forth across his toes, ball of the foot and that insane tickle spot in-between. Len’s laughter is blood-curdling and his bucking and arching seem almost capable of breaking his bonds. The other girls watch, almost in horror, as Cindy plays his foot like some demonic tickle instrument of torture. After what seems like an eternity for Len, she stops. Len immediately starts nodding his head vigorously, but cannot speak. The other girls embrace each other and Cindy has a smug smile on her face.
“OK….OK….oh God please no more….please….no more…I’ll do it…..oh God please….”
“Congratulations, Len. You have secured the five best assistants in the city and have done the right thing. Loosen his right arm!” and Monica dutifully undoes the handcuff.
“Sign this, Len. It’s the new salary structure agreement,” says Cindy as she positions the paper on a clipboard in front of him and hands him a pen.
He quickly signs it, and the girls give a celebratory whoop, with high-fives all around.
“Can I go now,” Len pleads weakly. He just wants to collapse somewhere and rest…somewhere safe from these sexy, but manipulative young girls.
“Sure, Len, just a couple of more things. You see that?” she asks as she points to the camera at the end of the room, previously unnoticed by Len. “We’ve taped this whole thing, including your confession about your bonus. I think the embarrassment of this video of your torture will be enough to keep you in line. But we want to make doubly sure you don’t forget this lesson,” Cindy says as she secures his right arm again, much to Len’s chagrin, but he’s too weak to fight her. “Besides, you are just so-oo-oo cute when you’re being tickled! Isn’t he, girls?!” as all five of them renew their tickle assault on him. Len’s laughter and screams for mercy echo through the room as the five girls drive their point home to their boss in a way he’ll never forget.
from the quill of the Westchester Tickler
Enjoy!
Ticklish Executive Gets His
(fffff/m)
The five assistants got together in the conference room for their meeting and things were getting a little heated.
“You know, he’s just giving us lip service. He has no intentions of giving us what we deserve,” says Cindy, who called the meeting. “If we want to have our salaries match the level of other assistants around the city, we have to pressure him. I’ve called him in for a meeting with us at 5PM and I have a plan.” They huddle at the conference table and whisper conspiratorially.
At 5 PM, Len Walsh walks in and takes his seat at the head of the conference table. Despite being department head, he’s not much on ceremony, and everyone simply calls him Len.
“Len, you know what our positions are worth out in the market right now. Bright young girls with computer skills, their futures ahead of them…we need to have a least a 15% adjustment in our salaries just to be competitive…” Cindy begins, getting right to her point.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cindy, you know what our budget is like. I have a 3% pool of money to divvy up, and no more. How can I justify jumping up to 15%?” Len responded.
“Look, Len, we’ve all been here at least a year, we know our jobs and we’re good. Profits are higher than last year, so the money’s there – and we helped put it there!” argues Jessica.
“I know and, believe me, nobody wants to do this more than I do…but I can’t. I promise you that I will do everything I can to get that salary adjustment put into next year’s budget. You have my word on that.” Silence fills the room.
Wendy, sitting closest to Len on his right, leans over a little and offers a cleavage shot. “I’m sure you can do a little better than that, Len.”
Monica, on his left, slowly and deliberately crosses her long, stockinged leg and begins to let her show dangle from her foot. Len, despite himself, can’t turn his eyes away. “You know, Len, this whole thing can be very pleasant for everyone involved…” She begins to rub her foot along the front of his leg.
He looks over the five of them, smiles at Cindy – who he had an affair with last year – and stands up, after making a slight adjustment to his pants to cover up his boner. As tempting as all this was, he was treading on dangerous ground – and he has other motivation for saying no. He can’t give in on this one.
“I’ll make the 3% effective immediately and I’ll make sure we get that other 12% in for next year. OK, girls? Now I’ve got to go and I’m sorry…really. You understand what it’s like dealing with the finance department.” The five assistants all walk to the door. Jessica and Monica block his exit. The two who were silent during the meeting, the two newest ones, run their hands under his suit jacket.
Cindy says “OK, Len, we understand. But we all met before and decided that you’ve been a really good boss and you’ve fought hard for us on this and we want to thank you for all your efforts. I can only think of one way to do it…right girls?” They all smile and nod and join in the seduction. With five pairs of hands, his jacket, tie shirt are made to disappear off his frame quickly and Cindy undoes his pants, whipping the belt of in one yank, making his pants drop in one motion. Len is a little overwhelmed, but goes with the flow. As they caress and fondle, they lead him to the table and lay him on it. His shoes and socks disappear and he is completely in their power when suddenly he hears a series of clicks…and realizes his arms and legs have been secured with cuffs to the legs under the table.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks with a hint of worry in his voice. He’s hoping they’re just a little kinky, but he’s not too sure.
“Len, we need to resolve this whole salary issue before we leave this room. 3% now and a promise for next year just doesn’t cut it!’ Cindy states.
“Cindy, you know I can’t. My hands are tied…” He realizes the irony immediately.
“Oh, we know, Len,” she smiles. “And you know, since we dated a year ago, I let my friends here in on a little secret about you.”
Len is beginning to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Cindy, standing next to his feet, runs her fingernails up his right foot.
Len howls with laughter, as Cindy and the others laugh at his reaction. “See? I told you girls.” She looks at Len, a wicked grin on her face. “You’re quite ticklish, aren’t you, Len? Very, very ticklish!” as she gives him a final swipe across his peds to drive home her point.
Len quickly composes himself, trying to regain control. “Cindy, this is crazy! You can’t torture me here – people will hear, there’ll be a scandal!”
“Len, it’s almost 5:30, everyone’s gone, the room is soundproof for those top-secret pow-wows you love to have, and the cleaning crew’s not due until seven. So who’s gonna save you from THIS, huh?” and she begins using her long, manicured on both feet as Len can do nothing but struggle and laugh. The other four jump in, attacking his armpits, ribs and stomach, with Jessica joining Cindy at his feet. Using two hands on each foot, Len is quickly turned into a quivering mass of laughter.
After 5 minutes of intense torture, he is asked again about the financial compensation. “I can’t…I can’t…” he whispers as his body continues shaking.
“Why not?” demands Monica, menacingly waving her nails over his stomach.
“No..please…no more…I just can’t…I - HAHAHAHAHAHA” as Monica deviously glides her fingernails over his defenseless tummy.
Len can barely speak as she does this but struggles to say “I can’t…I can’t…. because…because…if I go over budget, I don’t get a bonus!”
Now, Len has five pissed off assistants on his hands. This was not information he wanted them to have, but it was too late to take back.
“You BASTARD! You lied to us…you…you BASTARD!” screams Monica. “Get him!” as all five converge on him with renewed energy. They are merciless now, and Len’s screams of laughter are horrifying. After five minutes of angry, vengeful tickling, they stop.
“You know,” Cindy says as Len gasps for air on the table, “I think I can change his tune. Give me a few minutes alone – just his body and my fingernails…he’ll break.”
“You know, Cindy, I had a boyfriend once who was ticklish, and I had him eating out of my hands. I can break Len, no problem,” says a confident Monica.
The two new girls look at each other and one of them ventures “I think if we try together, we can break him!” as the other giggles.
“Oh, yeah, well I think I can and I’m willing to bet $100!” says Jessica.
“Oh, you can count me in on THAT action!” agrees Cindy, with a gleam in her eye.
Len’s eyes dart from one to the other as they declare their confidence in breaking him through tickle torture and he begins pleading for his sanity. “You can’t do this to me. Someone’s going to hear…someone’s got to hear…HE-E-ELP!” he shouts in desperation.
Cindy approaches him. “It’s no use, Len. You’re our tickle toy until you can come up with 15%. It’s your choice: 15% or we tickle you senseless. So…what’s it gonna be?”
“Please, Cindy, you know I can’t…” his voice trails off as he realizes they won’t buy it. He’s doomed, unless he’s willing to give up that bonus. No way!
“OK, girls, I’ll tell you what. Let’s let Molly and Laura start. They have 5 minutes. If Len doesn’t give up, Jessie is next in seniority, then Monica.” She turns to face Len, “Then it’s MY turn and I’m gonna make you suffer, baby! You better hope one of the others breaks you first, because I know you all too well.”
Len is breaking out into a cold sweat and doesn’t even see Molly and Laura approach. They’re young and energetic and each attacks his armpits and feet with gusto. Len’s laughter is loud and non-stop as they don’t let up for their entire allotted 5 minutes.
“Time!” shouts Cindy, looking up from her wristwatch. Len lay there laughing and gasping. “Damn, I thought we’d get him!” Molly says sadly. “I could’ve used the $100.”
“Rookie mistake, Molly”, says Jessie. “You have to give him a chance to talk, to say he gives up. You never let up! Here, let me show you how it’s done,” she says as she strolls over to a shivering Len. She sits on the table next to him, and leans over and whispers “OK, Len, say you’ll give us the 15% or you get some of this” and she gives him a quick but deep rib-tickle.
Len bucks and laughs, but manages a “No way!” “OK, Len, your choice!” and she starts tickling his ribs in earnest. Len’s helpless laughter fills the room again for a couple of minutes until she stops. “OK, Len. Now once again: 15% or tickle-torture?”
Len can’t speak and Jessie repeats her questions. Len, still gasping for breath, vigorously shakes his head side to side. Jessie renews her rib assault, stopping only at the 4-minute mark.
“Last chance, Len: 15% or tickles?” When Len stares back defiantly, she dives into his armpits, and Len howls with laughter. At 4:50, Jessie asks one last time. Len, with tears in his eyes, whispers “You can’t break me, bitch!” Jessie angrily goes at him, but just then Cindy shouts “Time!”
Monica saunters over and tries a different approach. She sits next to him and stretches her legs over his body, running her heels over his midsection, poking her spikes into his underarms. He giggles and writhes, but his erection visibly grows. She poses one foot near his face and lets her shoe dangle from it. Len stares at it lustfully.
“Can’t take your eyes off of it, can you, Lenny-boy? You like it? I can tell you do. You know what else? It’s probably the most ticklish foot in the world, too. It’s got you mesmerized, but if you could grab it and tickle it, I’d be mush in your hands,” she continues in a husky voice. “But you can’t get to it. Look at that foot…such a beautiful, high arch, don’t you think?…those stockings you lust for…so close…so ticklish…Too bad, huh? Instead…I …have … YOU!” and she leans toward his feet and, holding his toes back, starts rapidly running her nails back and forth across his instep. As Len begins hysterically laughing again, Monica lets her shoes drop and she runs her soles over Len’s face. She giggles as his laughing lips tickle the bottoms of her feet, and she enjoys the feeling. Len, in his torture, cannot even enjoy the view of her lovely stocking-clad feet.
After 3 minutes, she stops and gets off the table. “So, Len, how about that 15%” she asks. Len is shaking, giggling and seemingly unable to answer. “What’s the matter, tickle boy?” she asks in a baby voice. “Does it tickle too much? Is it too tickly for Lenny, huh?” she continues as she reaches into her purse. She withdraws a vibrator and turns it on. Len’s eyes shoot open.
“I see I have your attention, Len. So: 15% or more tickles?”
Len sets his jaw determinedly and shakes his head no. Monica resumes her baby voice and says “Poor , tickly little Len…what cute, ticklish underarms he has” as she presses the vibrator into the middle of his armpit. Len convulses in laughter and begs for mercy. With her free hand, she begins tickling the other armpit. New paroxysms of laughter shake his body as he helplessly endures Monica’s torture. At 4:45, Monica asks for a final time. Len is on the verge of passing out, and refuses to answer. Monica almost feels sorry for him, then give him a few more seconds of armpit tickling before Cindy, with a big smile on her face, yells “Time! Now you’re mine, you little shit.”
Cindy had been quietly standing there, keeping track of the time…and slowly filing her fingernails to points. She made sure she stood in Len’s view the throughout the ordeal, and Len had noticed with the nail file in her hands.
“Well, Len, I think you’ve noticed I’ve been filing my nails especially for you!” she says with a evil grin. Now Len can barely react as Cindy walks to the foot of the table.
“Let’s go over that percentage we were asking for. How many was it? Let’s see…one!” and with that, she dragged the nail on her index finger up the entire length of Len’s left foot. He shrieked and arched his back high off the table. She counts two, three, four…each time repeating the fingernail drag, alternating feet. Each time Len reacts as if jolted by electricity.
Len begs desperately, knowing she would get even more devious later. :Cindy, you’ve got to understa-AAAAAAAAAAND-HAHAHA….oh, that I really really ca-HAAAA-HAHAHA can’t do this…please you’ve got to sto-HOOOOOOOOOOOP please…oh, please…”
“Fourteen…FIFTEEN!” and she punctuated the final number with all ten fingers attacking both feet. She then stopped and stared at his quivering body, thoroughly enjoying the power.
“Now where was that tickle spot?… I think it was here!” as she scrapes his left heel. “Or was it here?” as she scrapes his instep, getting much more of a response. “Here, maybe” as she scrapes the ball of his foot, making Len laugh even more loudly. Her fingernails then very slowly trace their way upwards from the heel again, very deliberately toward his major weak spot. When she got to the ball of the foot and wasn’t stopping, he knew he was in deep, deep trouble.
“Cindy, no please…don’t do it…you’ll kill me…please not there!” he begs.
“That’s kind of the point, Len. The more ticklish the spot, the worse the torture, the more chance you’ll give in. Plus that $100 of Jessie’s will be mine, too. So tell me, is that spot just under your toes still ridiculously ticklish?” Len pleads for his life earnestly now “Oh God no, Cindy…please…you can’t…don’t ple-ee-eease don’t!”
“Sorry, Len, but this is exactly what you deserve. Last time now: 15%…or do I tickle you to death?”
“Cindy, please, don’t…”
“Len, you stubborn little shit! I have three words for you: kitchy…kitchy… KOO-OO!”
as she bends his toes back and runs her nails back and forth just where the base of his toes end along the very top of the ball of his foot. His laughter hits a previously unheard level.
“AH-HAHAHAHA-HAHAHA-HAHAHA………PLE-EE-EEEEEASE………...NO-O-O-HOHOHOHOHO GOD NO-O-O-HOHOHO…”
“As she continues, she turns to the other four girls and states confidently “He’s dead meat now, guys. He can’t take this for very long. He is pure putty in my hands. Aren’t you, tickle boy?!” Len’s body squirms, bucks, writhes uncontrollably and his laughter continues unabated. In between fits of laughter, he babbles something completely incoherent. A plea for mercy? No one can quite tell, as they exchange glances of admiration over Cindy’s superior knowledge and technique. Cindy stops after a minute and says “I’m taking it easy on you, stopping this soon. Now: 15% or I’ll REALLY let you have it.”
Len’s eyes betray his fear, but he knows he is so close…just a few more minutes and he’ll have survived, his bonus intact. If he quits now, the past 20 minutes of torture will have been for nothing.
In a hoarse whisper, he says, “No, Cindy, I’m not going to let a little weakness do me in. No 15% and that’s final. Do your worst!”
Cindy smiled and replies “I was hoping you’d say that, tickle boy. Stay right there – don’t move!” That causes the other girls to laugh as Len struggles against his bonds.
Cindy removes her hairbrush from her bag, the one Len knows so well with the nylon bristles. “Oh God,” he whispers hoarsely, “She IS going to kill me!”
“Oh, you bet, Len. You know what this will do to you. So what about the 15%?”
“NO!” he says emphatically.
Cindy leans over. “Final answer?”
“Final answer,” he sighs.
“Wrong answer, Len. You don’t get to be a millionaire… you just get ultimately tortured by the expert!” she says as she walks to his feet once again. On the previously untickled right foot, she bends his toes back and vigorously runs the brush back and forth across his toes, ball of the foot and that insane tickle spot in-between. Len’s laughter is blood-curdling and his bucking and arching seem almost capable of breaking his bonds. The other girls watch, almost in horror, as Cindy plays his foot like some demonic tickle instrument of torture. After what seems like an eternity for Len, she stops. Len immediately starts nodding his head vigorously, but cannot speak. The other girls embrace each other and Cindy has a smug smile on her face.
“OK….OK….oh God please no more….please….no more…I’ll do it…..oh God please….”
“Congratulations, Len. You have secured the five best assistants in the city and have done the right thing. Loosen his right arm!” and Monica dutifully undoes the handcuff.
“Sign this, Len. It’s the new salary structure agreement,” says Cindy as she positions the paper on a clipboard in front of him and hands him a pen.
He quickly signs it, and the girls give a celebratory whoop, with high-fives all around.
“Can I go now,” Len pleads weakly. He just wants to collapse somewhere and rest…somewhere safe from these sexy, but manipulative young girls.
“Sure, Len, just a couple of more things. You see that?” she asks as she points to the camera at the end of the room, previously unnoticed by Len. “We’ve taped this whole thing, including your confession about your bonus. I think the embarrassment of this video of your torture will be enough to keep you in line. But we want to make doubly sure you don’t forget this lesson,” Cindy says as she secures his right arm again, much to Len’s chagrin, but he’s too weak to fight her. “Besides, you are just so-oo-oo cute when you’re being tickled! Isn’t he, girls?!” as all five of them renew their tickle assault on him. Len’s laughter and screams for mercy echo through the room as the five girls drive their point home to their boss in a way he’ll never forget.
from the quill of the Westchester Tickler
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