I Know What You Did Last Summer
I still can’t figure out why a guy who got knocked down by a group of teenagers would want to take his revenge by slashing them up! There’re so many different ways to get back at them – if you asked me I would say TICKLE THEM!!!!
“Oh come on, don’t be such a PRUDE!” Amber Collins dissed Susan Brown, as she took another swig of tequila straight from the bottle, barely bothering to keep her other hand on the steering wheel as she kept the accelerator pressed to the floor. She passed the bottle to her front seat passenger and current best friend, Lisa Baron, who gulped down two mouthfuls of tequila.
“Whew! I can FEEL the alcohol burn down my throat!” Lisa whooped. She was definitely more than half-drunk already.
“Ha! I bet you’ll rather have some part of Joey Marco stuck down your throat!” Amber shouted back at Lisa.
“You’ll prefer it up your pants!” Lisa butted back good-naturedly, as she tipped the bottle and splashed the tequila onto Amber’s pants. She shrieked with laughter at her lame joke.
“You BITCH!” Amber screamed back, laughing just as hysterically at the hilarity of the situation.
Susan could watch helplessly in the back seat as her college roommates insisted on getting themselves dead drunk before they reached campus. She fervently hoped they wouldn’t get them dead! “Really, come on guys, stop drinking and don’t go so fast Amber. It’s really dangerous,” trying to talk some sense into her friends.
They both rolled their eyes skywards. “PRUDE!” They shouted together, and burst out in a fit of giggles. While Lisa and Amber got along great, with their ditsy personalities, it was a wonder why Susan actually got along with them at all. Actually, the reason was quite simple. The three girls were quite gorgeous, but more importantly, Susan was the only reason why both Lisa and Amber were constantly getting B grade averages, where they should have been failing dismally.
Susan was something of a genius and hardworking to boot, whose idea of a great date was a cup of herbal tea and a book by Joyce, the thicker and the more incomprehensible the better. Therefore, while Susan never really objected to Lisa and Amber “borrowing” her work on a weekly basis, they both felt that they owed it to Susan to give her a makeover and turn her into more of a party animal. They had forced her to change from spectacles to contact lenses (which even Susan had to agree made her look rather attractive) and drag her out to as many parties as they could get invites to (which was a lot).
Lisa and Amber started singing the latest hit single completely off key, moving their bodies from side to side, looking at each other. Suddenly a loud THUNK sound could be heard and they all screamed simultaneously. Amber slammed on her brakes and the car screeched to a stop.
“Wh-what was that?” Lisa asked.
“I think we hit an animal, that’s all,” Amber replied in a shaken voice.
“We’ve got to go and check,” Susan said urgently, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. Soon all three girls were out of the car. They stared at the crumpled form of a man lying face down. “Quick Amber, we need to call an ambulance, call the police!” Susan shouted.
“No way!” Amber shouted. “Lisa and myself are going to be tested for alcohol, and then we’ll be charged with drink driving. Come on Susan, let’s get out of here and get back to campus before anyone else comes along!”
“But we can’t just leave him here like that! He could still be alive!” Susan cried out as they dragged her resisting body back to the car, unheeding her protests. Within minutes they had left their crime scene.
ONE YEAR LATER
“Good morning, Doctor Cray,” Susan called, as the resident psychiatrist Dr. Cray limped past her into the ward. She had gotten her desired internship at the Grason Psychiatric Clinic, and had been here for a week already. She tried not to stare at his pronounced limp as he nodded and smiled pleasantly back at her.
“I would like to have an interview with you in my office later on Susan,” Dr. Cray informed her, as they did the ward round together. She was still amazed at how Dr. Cray was able to put the patients at ease, and make them seem almost human again.
Later on in his office, he made them a cup of herbal tea (still her favourite) and sat back heavily in his chair, adjusting his leg to be comfortable. Looking at Susan, he laced his fingers together as she looked away guiltily from his leg and gave him a brief smile.
“Please, Susan, don’t be shy to ask about my leg. In this line, you learn very quickly that you have to be direct and straight to the point with our clients. I would rather you ask me about my leg than keep on staring at it.”
Susan was shocked at how observant Dr. Cray was. “I’m sorry Dr. Cray, I didn’t mean to be rude,” she apologized. “I was wondering how - ”
“I was knocked down by a speeding car last year,” he interrupted her question, staring intently at her. “Along the road back to the college campus. By three girls, as far as I remember.” Susan’s vision of Dr. Cray began to become blurred. “Amber, Lisa and Susan were their names, I heard. Susan didn’t mind helping me, but her other friends were a bad influence on her-peer pressure, that kind of crap, which to me makes her as guilty as the other two for running away. I’ll be candid, Susan, I’ve done nothing but think of my revenge for the past year,” as Susan slumped forward in her chair unconscious. The drug in the tea worked well. “And now, my revenge begins.”
Susan woke up and found herself in a nightmare. Her entire lower body was naked and secured to a gurney bed in a spreadeagled position. Her arms were snugly encased in a straightjacket and straps ran across her entire body, rendering completely helpless with minimal chance of movement. A ballgag was strapped around her face, effectively silencing her from the rest of the world.
She knew a moment of total panic; this was the Electro-Convulsive Therapy room in the clinic! And she was going to be the patient, the victim to a deranged doctor. She struggled mightily, but with the merciless bondage, she might as well not have tried. “Ah, the guilty party awakens,” Dr Cray spoke. She turned her wide-opened eyes towards him, silently begging him with her eyes and whatever moans the gag allowed through.
“Oh, there’s no point begging, Susan, you left me to suffer and die on that road, but I didn’t. Instead I have to live with my leg this was for the rest of my life. And so you must be punished for the rest of your life as well!” Dr Cray informed her with a crazy gleam in her eyes. He held up the wires that were commonly used for ECT. She whimpered and struggled uselessly. Tears of terror and fear ran down her pretty face as she imagined the torture she was going to be put through. Little did she know the torments she would face for a long time to come.
Dr Cray sat at her feet, gently caressing them. “I have been thinking of how to punish the guilty, Susan. And after much consideration, I have decided to indulge in my secret fetish- tickling.” Her eyes went wide at that. He attached the wires to her feet, using clear tape to secure them to her flesh. “A mild dose of electricity running through your feet would provide the unbearable sensations of tickling,” He informed her of her hell to come. Susan screamed and shrieked, bucking for all she was worth, but to no avail.
He them moved further up her legs, staring intently at her helplessly exposed womanhood. She moaned in fear at the impending rape, but that was not on the doctor’s mind – yet. Holding up a vibrator, he further informed her, “lucky for you that you felt a brief pang of conscience, that you would have helped me were it not for your friends. Therefore, your torment shall not be merely pure tickling alone.” Upon which he turned on the current, and Susan knew the meaning of tickle torture.
The mild current mercilessly stimulated her nerve endings, not enough to hurt, but making it tickle tremendously. The muffled cries emitting from her gag told the Doctor that she had ticklish feet. He smiled at her suffering, then brought the vibrator to her pussy, running it along her lips and pressing it against her clitoris.
Poor Susan didn’t know which was worse: suffering the unbearable tickling of her feet, or the humiliation of being brought to an unwanted orgasm by her captor. She screamed in despair as the twin sensations of agony and pleasure coursed through her helpless body. Then just as her resistance to the impending orgasm slipped, Dr. Cray took the vibrator away.
“Oh no, my dear slave, never will you have the pleasure of orgasm,” he told her, as she stared in disbelief at his cruelty, helplessly pushing her hips forward seeking contact with the vibrator. Then the tickling got too much to bear, and she descended once again into the mist of tickle torture. Every nerve in her feet seemed to be dancing to the tune of the electricity, sending unbearable ticklish sensations to her brain. Tears of agony poured forth from Susan and could she but beg, she would have offered anything to Dr Cray for mercy.
But he was without mercy and brought the vibrator into play again, stoking her desire to the verge of orgasm, then denying the release she so desperately sought. Repeatedly, he tormented Susan this way, letting her have the worst of both worlds; merciless tickle torture coupled with cruel denial of orgasm. Susan soon wished that she were dead.
Time lost meaning in her hellish torment; she didn’t know how long she suffered, only that the tickling and denial of the much-craved orgasm never stopped. Her life was reduced to those 2 sensations. It took Susan some time to realize that the torment had stopped, and that she could speak again. Gulping in heaving breaths of air, she began to plead for her freedom, for the ceasing of the tickling and the chance to orgasm. She had never felt so humiliated before.
“No Susan, no freedom for you. You’re my tickle slave now, for you must pay for your crimes against me. But don’t worry, I won’t be tickling or teasing for quite a long while. You see, I must go and pay Amber and Lisa a long overdue visit.” Susan was glad for the brief respite, and if his words were true, she would be left alone for some time. Maybe she could escape from this madman somehow and rescue her friends as well. But his next words swept away all hope she had.
“So while I’m away, I can’t leave you unattended.” He opened the door to her cell, and in walked 2 men and a woman. “Let me introduce you to Jake, Jack and Jill,” each one nodding as their names were called out. “They’re going to look after you really well while I’m gone Susan, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. They’ll make sure your penance goes on even without me. You see, Jake and Jack have a foot tickling fetish, while Jill like to keep pretty, helpless girls like yourself on the verge of orgasm. That’s what got them admitted here in the first place, so we’ll get a chance to kill two birds with one stones here. They’ll keep you in a permanent state of suffering, and maybe get a chance to cure themselves of their fetishes.” He smirked at Susan, “but I really doubt it.”
He watched for a long while as the men took their positions, one at each foot, while Jill climbed onto the gurney and placed a single finger on Susan’s clitoris. He watched as the men used their fingers and tongues to tickle Susan’s feet; light scratches, heavy scrabbling, mild stroking, licking her feet and toes, all seemed to keep Susan in a permanent state of hysterics as she laughed, screamed and babbled for the torment to stop. He watched as Jill played Susan’s clitoris like a virtuoso, using her skilled fingers and tongue to keep her constantly aroused but never allowing her the release of orgasm. He listened in deep satisfaction as Susan’s cries and tortured laughter were interspersed with helpless gasps of pleasure, and her pleas for the men to stop mingled with pleas to Jill to let her come. He smiled to himself as he limped out of the cell, leaving Susan alone in her hellish nightmare.
“Oh, Mr. Crayson, you’re a kinky one, aren’t you,” Amber cooed at her escort client, as he tied her arms above her head. She tugged on them playfully. “Oh dear, there’s no way I’m getting away from this,” she teased. He then tied her legs apart. “Oooh, you can do anything you want to me, and I can’t stop you now, Mr. Crayson,” she told him as she put on the little girl look on her face.
After finishing college, Amber had wanted to do some touring so she needed some money. And with her looks and body, she quickly realized that she would earn loads as a female escort. She was quite happy with the job and didn’t even mind the sex that most of her clients wanted. After all, she was getting paid good money! She had recently harboured the hope that she might even get a chance to do a Anna Nicole Smith, find some rich old geezer, work her considerable charms on him, marry him, wait for him to die, then take half of his money.
Amber was dressed only in a tiny bikini, and she had been bound in a standing position. She struggled playfully against her bonds, then told Mr Crayson in a pouty voice, “you’re such a bad boy, Mr Crayson, using me to play out your own evil fantasies in your own home. I don’t why I allowed you to tie me up, now you can do anything you want to do, and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.” Sometimes Amber could be the world’s greatest tease! “So what fantasy are you fulfilling today, Mr Crayson?” she asked innocently.
She had been worried at first about taking up this client because he had a bad leg, but when he showed her the size of his wallet and the color of his credit cards, that little bit of disability suddenly seemed very insignificant. Throughout the evening, he had been courteous and had splurged outrageously on her from shopping to food and wine.
He smiled as he removed the bikini from her body, leaving her in her naked splendour. “Ah, my fantasy for tonight, Amber, is about taking revenge on 3 girls who knocked me down in a car while drunk driving about a year ago.” He told Amber, as his hands roamed her helpless body. Ah, the joys that money can bring.
“Wha- what do you me-me-mean?” Amber asked in a now-frightened voice. Her struggles suddenly became more focused as she sought a way of escape from her bondage.
“Oh, I think you know what I mean, Amber. You’ve been a very naughty girl, driving under the influence of alcohol then not bothering to help your victim.” He suddenly pasted a strip of duct tape across her lips. Now Amber truly knew terror. She screamed, she bucked, she kicked, but all she succeeded at was making her breasts and buttocks jiggle enticingly for Mr Crayson. She ceased struggling and slumped helpless in her bonds. Her eyes were bright with fear, and tears sparkled in them, threatening to spill down her pale cheeks at any time.
He stood behind her, his hands gently stroking her arms. “I already have pretty little Susan in my clutches, Amber. She was deliriously happy the last time I saw her. It won’t be long before Lisa joins our party. But in the meantime-” he suddenly dug his hands into her exposed underarms, tickling away furiously. Amber shrieked muffledly into her gag and the sounds of tortured laughter soon followed. “I do hope that you’re ticklish!”
After a few minutes, he ceased his tickle assault. “Oh, no, this just won’t do, this is wrong,” he muttered. Amber heaved a sigh of relief, thinking it meant that Mr Crayson realized what he was doing was wrong. Until he corrected her misperception. “You’re struggling too much, Amber, and that won’t do.” With a practiced ease, he untied her from her bonds and then dragged her towards the wall. He pressed a secret lever and the wall opened to reveal a secret passage to what could only be a dungeon. She wailed in desperation, but there was to be no escape.
Soon, Amber was securely fastened to a rack in a lying down position. Her body was stretched tightly and she could struggle very little. She moaned in fear. He sat by her head. “There, there, my slave, that’s much better isn’t it? Now you can’t struggle so much, so you can only concentrate on the tickling I’m going to inflict upon your flesh. Doesn’t that sound FUN!” he emphasized the last word with a poke in her ribs, drawing out a muffled scream at the sudden attack. She sobbed helplessly. “Now where were we? Oh yes, those ticklish underarms of yours…” And for a long, long time, the only sounds in the dungeons were Amber’s muffled tortured cries and laughter.
“Excuse me miss, could you tell me how to get to-” the man tried valiantly to juggle his groceries, his walking stick, and the piece of paper which bore the address he was trying to locate.
Lisa looked upon the man with some pity. From the perspiration that soaked his shirt, it was obvious he had been looking for quite some time without much success. “Here let me have a look,” Lisa offered kindly, taking the piece of paper from him. He gladly relinquished the paper and set down his groceries with an audible sigh of relief. “Oh dear, you’re in the wrong region!” Lisa told him with consternation. No wonder he had been walking for so long!
At the glum look on his face, Lisa’s heart went out to him. “Here, my car’s just round the corner. Let me send you there. The look of happiness and thanks upon his face was like the sun coming out after a rainstorm. “Thank you so much, kind miss, thank you so much!” He bobbed his head several times subserviently.
In the car, Lisa tried to make small talk. She found out his name (Cray, just call me Cray, miss), what he was doing at the address (I’m looking after a friend’s pet, miss) and what work he did (I work sometimes at the nearby psychiatric clinic, miss, when they need cleaning up).
She had helped Cray bring his groceries into the lavish house, and as she stared in wonder at how a cripple like Cray knew such rich friends, she missed seeing the casually discarded ropes on the sofa that had just recently held her good friend in bondage. “You’re so kind, miss, to have taken me all the way here! I’m sure there’s a good reason for you being so kind, Lisa.” Cray’s voice suddenly changed from subservient to superior.
“How did you know my name?” Lisa asked, the first stirrings of fear were beginning to rise from her belly. She casually made her way towards the door.
“I know, you must think that being to kind to others can help make your mistake last year go away, Lisa.” She frantically twisted the doorknob but it wouldn’t open! She yanked at the door with all her might to no avail. She turned to look at her tormentor. A gun was in his hands now. “You’re wrong Lisa, there’s no way you can make a car accident go away, especially since you failed to kill me. Come now, let me show you the pet I’m taking care of. Her name’s Amber.”
Lisa couldn’t believe her eyes. Her best friend Amber was bound to a pole in a standing position, but only on one leg. Her other leg was outstretched at shoulder height, secured in position by a chain from the ceiling, as though offering her leg to anyone. And the way she was shaking her outstretched foot made it seem that she was indeed trying to offer her foot. The look of agony and moans from her told Lisa that she had suffered tremendously, and the hand prints on her belly, ribs, sides and armpits showed that Cray had helped himself to more than a feel of her body.
Cray dumped Lisa to the floor where she lay stunned. He moved to Amber, who looked at him pleadingly, shaking her foot at him. He smiled nastily and brought a brush and some white powder. Amber screamed into her gagged and shook head frantically. He dipped the brush in the powder and leisurely applied it to her helpless foot. Amber squeezed her eyes shut at the horrible itching sensations the powder brought out. She felt like she was going to die!
“Here, slave, let me take your mind off the itching,” Cray told Amber, as he moved behind her and placed his hands on her ribs. “Nothing like some good tickling to take away the itch, eh?” he taunted Amber as his fingers dug into her ribcage lightly. Her body jerked helplessly at this cruel onslaught of tickling. “Now slave, you’d better not pee on my floor or-” He had no chance to finish his threat for a stream of pee shot out from Amber. She cried. “Tsk, tsk, such a naughty slave,” he said as he took the brush and itching powder in his hands again. She moaned in terror, her eyes wide with fear. “I think you need to itch all over your body…”
He then turned his attention to a very frightened Lisa. “Now let’s see if you’re as ticklish as Amber and Susan…” he told her as he advanced towards her menacingly. She crawled backwards until she reached the wall. By now Lisa was openly sobbing.
“Please! We didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything you want Cray!” Lisa begged piteously.
“Oh, you’ll be sorry all right,” Cray promised her. “Very sorry indeed!”
The days passed in a blur of merciless tickle torture for both girls. And being the merciless sadist that he was, Cray soon began to play more cruel games with them.
One of his favourite games with his two gorgeous tickle slaves was to secure each to a rack, with their legs spread as wide as possible. They would then be brought close together, feet to feet. He would then proceed to lightly tickle their inner thighs, working his way towards their bikini line, where he had discovered to his delight that they both hated being tickled there. The rule of this cruel game was that the first slave to make any noise would lose. She would then be subjected to an all out inner thigh tickling by Cray, while the other would get a tickle respite.
To prolong their suffering, Cray only employed a light touch during this game, either gently stroking with his fingers or using a feather only. He delighted in the cruelty of the game, where each slave had to endure the tickling in silence. He would stare rapturously at Amber’s pretty face, screwed in lines of agony, and the clenched jaw as she held back any noise. Only her eyes begged for his mercy when she found the will to open them and stare at her tormentor. Lisa was in no better shape, with her eyes squeezed shut in ticklish agony and her teeth gritted to hold back her noise. All the while his fingers stroked and tickled their bikini lines with impunity, sometimes using a feather to add to the variations of ticklish sensations his slaves were feeling.
Inevitably, one or the other would finally succumb to the incessant tickling and cry out, upon which he would then move the winner away and keep her in an upright position so she could watch helplessly the horrific tickling her was about to inflict on the loser. When he was feeling particularly vicious, he would insert a vibrator into the winner’s pussy, and whisper into her ear that she had better keep the vibrator in her pussy for the duration of his tickle torture session with the loser, or else… Some other times, he would force the winner to take part in the tickling by making her lick the loser’s bikini line.
Another of his favourite games was to tie both side by side, and then start tickling either Amber or Lisa. The only way he would stop his tickling assault was for the other slave to cry out “tickle me”. Then he would stop tickling the first girl and proceed to tickle the second. He particularly enjoyed it when the slave being tickled would beg her friend to cry out the code word to save her from the cruel tickling and he took great pleasure in taunting them that their friendship was not as great as it would seem!
Consider the following session:
Cray had chosen Lisa to start with, and he was taking his time, slowly building up her torment. He lightly drew random patterns on her underarms, making her writhe in agony and whimper for him to stop. Then he had rested his thumbs in the center of her pits, and pressed down hard. Lisa shrieked and would have undoubtedly shot to the roof were it not for the bonds. He then sank his fingers deep into her underarms, wiggling away madly. Her cries and tortured laughter did not seem human.
“PLEASE HELP ME AMBER!!” She screamed for mercy from her friend, as he intensified the tickling now by placing his lips on her quivering belly and blowing raspberries onto it. His pleasure knew no bounds as his fingers tickled Lisa’s underarms while his mouth inflicted unbearable agonies upon her belly.
“Please tickle me!” He heard Amber cry out fearfully, not able to bear the torments that Lisa was undergoing. Without warning he straddled Amber’s body and immediately sank his fingers into her sides, employing a firm massaging technique to drive Amber to hysterics. His hands slowly traveled up her sides, moving to her ribs and then down again. This passage continued for a long time, and soon it was Amber’s turn to screech to Lisa to stop the tickling.
But Lisa was still recovering from her own attack, and could not bear to endure more tickling. The knowing look that Cray gave to Lisa was chilling. “LISA!!!” Amber screamed in desperation, as Cray continued his passage up and down her ticklish sides. “HELP ME PLEASE!!” Amber screamed.
“Tickle me!” Lisa called out in a broken voice, knowing that she would not bear the tickling to come, yet unable to see her friend suffer so.
Immediately Cray moved to her legs and began to knead and squeeze her knees and the flesh just above her knees. Lisa knew the meaning of pure tickle torture. She screamed, she laughed, she struggled; and then she screamed and laughed some more. She couldn’t even find the breath to beg Amber to help.
On and on this cycle of tickling went, with each cycle getting progressively longer as both friends found it increasingly difficult to beg for the tickling to switch to herself. Such were the delights that Cray had with his two slaves. Finally, he decided that the three friends should now be reunited. The transport arrangements were easy, bringing Lisa and Amber to his clinic to join Susan.
In the cell, Lisa and Amber were chained in a kneeling position, each facing the other, arms above the head. A double-sided dildo was secured in their mouths, bringing their faces close together. Their nipples were similarly affixed, though with nipple clamps. In this way, when one moved, the other would have her nipples painfully tugged. The closeness of their faces allowed them to see each other’s facial expressions and to understand the humiliation and suffering each was undergoing.
Cray was lightly tickling Amber’s feet and she was staying as still as she could so as not to pull Lisa’s nipples. Her agony was plain for Lisa to see as she tried to stay still and let Cray tickle her, instead of struggle and pull away. He had been tickling Amber’s foot for about 15 minutes already, and she was close to breaking her immobility.
He was enjoying the sight of Susan having her feet tickled mercilessly while being kept on the edge of orgasm by his helpers. He watched with fascination as conflicting emotions ran across her face, sometimes agony from the tickling, sometimes pleasure, but most often, the frustration of not being able to achieve the climax that she so desperately needed. And she really needed it, for since her capture, and since she had been introduced to the skills of Jill, she had not had a single orgasm yet! And the cruel fiend that he was, Cray insisted that Susan never orgasm.
In a similar manner, he was enjoying the desperate pleas that Susan was offering. Mingled with her laughter were pleas to both Jill and her Master Cray to allow her to orgasm, that she would be a good tickle slave, that she would do anything to be allowed to cum. She would perform any sexual perversion they required of her, would debase herself to any level they desired, as long as they would let her cum just once. She even began suggesting acts that she was willing to perform so as to get her orgasm!
Cray smiled evilly at the helpless babbling Susan. Turning his attention to Lisa, he ceased his foot tickling of Amber and instead began to lightly stroke Lisa’s underarm. She barely resisted the impulse to turn away from the tickling, light as it was. Then his other hand began to stroke Amber’s side, and she too struggled not to move. “Well, my slaves, Susan has suggested some very fun activities for us to engage in! But as she is currently indisposed, that leaves just you and me!”
Oh yes, Cray’s revenge was certainly coming along just fine!
I still can’t figure out why a guy who got knocked down by a group of teenagers would want to take his revenge by slashing them up! There’re so many different ways to get back at them – if you asked me I would say TICKLE THEM!!!!
“Oh come on, don’t be such a PRUDE!” Amber Collins dissed Susan Brown, as she took another swig of tequila straight from the bottle, barely bothering to keep her other hand on the steering wheel as she kept the accelerator pressed to the floor. She passed the bottle to her front seat passenger and current best friend, Lisa Baron, who gulped down two mouthfuls of tequila.
“Whew! I can FEEL the alcohol burn down my throat!” Lisa whooped. She was definitely more than half-drunk already.
“Ha! I bet you’ll rather have some part of Joey Marco stuck down your throat!” Amber shouted back at Lisa.
“You’ll prefer it up your pants!” Lisa butted back good-naturedly, as she tipped the bottle and splashed the tequila onto Amber’s pants. She shrieked with laughter at her lame joke.
“You BITCH!” Amber screamed back, laughing just as hysterically at the hilarity of the situation.
Susan could watch helplessly in the back seat as her college roommates insisted on getting themselves dead drunk before they reached campus. She fervently hoped they wouldn’t get them dead! “Really, come on guys, stop drinking and don’t go so fast Amber. It’s really dangerous,” trying to talk some sense into her friends.
They both rolled their eyes skywards. “PRUDE!” They shouted together, and burst out in a fit of giggles. While Lisa and Amber got along great, with their ditsy personalities, it was a wonder why Susan actually got along with them at all. Actually, the reason was quite simple. The three girls were quite gorgeous, but more importantly, Susan was the only reason why both Lisa and Amber were constantly getting B grade averages, where they should have been failing dismally.
Susan was something of a genius and hardworking to boot, whose idea of a great date was a cup of herbal tea and a book by Joyce, the thicker and the more incomprehensible the better. Therefore, while Susan never really objected to Lisa and Amber “borrowing” her work on a weekly basis, they both felt that they owed it to Susan to give her a makeover and turn her into more of a party animal. They had forced her to change from spectacles to contact lenses (which even Susan had to agree made her look rather attractive) and drag her out to as many parties as they could get invites to (which was a lot).
Lisa and Amber started singing the latest hit single completely off key, moving their bodies from side to side, looking at each other. Suddenly a loud THUNK sound could be heard and they all screamed simultaneously. Amber slammed on her brakes and the car screeched to a stop.
“Wh-what was that?” Lisa asked.
“I think we hit an animal, that’s all,” Amber replied in a shaken voice.
“We’ve got to go and check,” Susan said urgently, unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. Soon all three girls were out of the car. They stared at the crumpled form of a man lying face down. “Quick Amber, we need to call an ambulance, call the police!” Susan shouted.
“No way!” Amber shouted. “Lisa and myself are going to be tested for alcohol, and then we’ll be charged with drink driving. Come on Susan, let’s get out of here and get back to campus before anyone else comes along!”
“But we can’t just leave him here like that! He could still be alive!” Susan cried out as they dragged her resisting body back to the car, unheeding her protests. Within minutes they had left their crime scene.
ONE YEAR LATER
“Good morning, Doctor Cray,” Susan called, as the resident psychiatrist Dr. Cray limped past her into the ward. She had gotten her desired internship at the Grason Psychiatric Clinic, and had been here for a week already. She tried not to stare at his pronounced limp as he nodded and smiled pleasantly back at her.
“I would like to have an interview with you in my office later on Susan,” Dr. Cray informed her, as they did the ward round together. She was still amazed at how Dr. Cray was able to put the patients at ease, and make them seem almost human again.
Later on in his office, he made them a cup of herbal tea (still her favourite) and sat back heavily in his chair, adjusting his leg to be comfortable. Looking at Susan, he laced his fingers together as she looked away guiltily from his leg and gave him a brief smile.
“Please, Susan, don’t be shy to ask about my leg. In this line, you learn very quickly that you have to be direct and straight to the point with our clients. I would rather you ask me about my leg than keep on staring at it.”
Susan was shocked at how observant Dr. Cray was. “I’m sorry Dr. Cray, I didn’t mean to be rude,” she apologized. “I was wondering how - ”
“I was knocked down by a speeding car last year,” he interrupted her question, staring intently at her. “Along the road back to the college campus. By three girls, as far as I remember.” Susan’s vision of Dr. Cray began to become blurred. “Amber, Lisa and Susan were their names, I heard. Susan didn’t mind helping me, but her other friends were a bad influence on her-peer pressure, that kind of crap, which to me makes her as guilty as the other two for running away. I’ll be candid, Susan, I’ve done nothing but think of my revenge for the past year,” as Susan slumped forward in her chair unconscious. The drug in the tea worked well. “And now, my revenge begins.”
Susan woke up and found herself in a nightmare. Her entire lower body was naked and secured to a gurney bed in a spreadeagled position. Her arms were snugly encased in a straightjacket and straps ran across her entire body, rendering completely helpless with minimal chance of movement. A ballgag was strapped around her face, effectively silencing her from the rest of the world.
She knew a moment of total panic; this was the Electro-Convulsive Therapy room in the clinic! And she was going to be the patient, the victim to a deranged doctor. She struggled mightily, but with the merciless bondage, she might as well not have tried. “Ah, the guilty party awakens,” Dr Cray spoke. She turned her wide-opened eyes towards him, silently begging him with her eyes and whatever moans the gag allowed through.
“Oh, there’s no point begging, Susan, you left me to suffer and die on that road, but I didn’t. Instead I have to live with my leg this was for the rest of my life. And so you must be punished for the rest of your life as well!” Dr Cray informed her with a crazy gleam in her eyes. He held up the wires that were commonly used for ECT. She whimpered and struggled uselessly. Tears of terror and fear ran down her pretty face as she imagined the torture she was going to be put through. Little did she know the torments she would face for a long time to come.
Dr Cray sat at her feet, gently caressing them. “I have been thinking of how to punish the guilty, Susan. And after much consideration, I have decided to indulge in my secret fetish- tickling.” Her eyes went wide at that. He attached the wires to her feet, using clear tape to secure them to her flesh. “A mild dose of electricity running through your feet would provide the unbearable sensations of tickling,” He informed her of her hell to come. Susan screamed and shrieked, bucking for all she was worth, but to no avail.
He them moved further up her legs, staring intently at her helplessly exposed womanhood. She moaned in fear at the impending rape, but that was not on the doctor’s mind – yet. Holding up a vibrator, he further informed her, “lucky for you that you felt a brief pang of conscience, that you would have helped me were it not for your friends. Therefore, your torment shall not be merely pure tickling alone.” Upon which he turned on the current, and Susan knew the meaning of tickle torture.
The mild current mercilessly stimulated her nerve endings, not enough to hurt, but making it tickle tremendously. The muffled cries emitting from her gag told the Doctor that she had ticklish feet. He smiled at her suffering, then brought the vibrator to her pussy, running it along her lips and pressing it against her clitoris.
Poor Susan didn’t know which was worse: suffering the unbearable tickling of her feet, or the humiliation of being brought to an unwanted orgasm by her captor. She screamed in despair as the twin sensations of agony and pleasure coursed through her helpless body. Then just as her resistance to the impending orgasm slipped, Dr. Cray took the vibrator away.
“Oh no, my dear slave, never will you have the pleasure of orgasm,” he told her, as she stared in disbelief at his cruelty, helplessly pushing her hips forward seeking contact with the vibrator. Then the tickling got too much to bear, and she descended once again into the mist of tickle torture. Every nerve in her feet seemed to be dancing to the tune of the electricity, sending unbearable ticklish sensations to her brain. Tears of agony poured forth from Susan and could she but beg, she would have offered anything to Dr Cray for mercy.
But he was without mercy and brought the vibrator into play again, stoking her desire to the verge of orgasm, then denying the release she so desperately sought. Repeatedly, he tormented Susan this way, letting her have the worst of both worlds; merciless tickle torture coupled with cruel denial of orgasm. Susan soon wished that she were dead.
Time lost meaning in her hellish torment; she didn’t know how long she suffered, only that the tickling and denial of the much-craved orgasm never stopped. Her life was reduced to those 2 sensations. It took Susan some time to realize that the torment had stopped, and that she could speak again. Gulping in heaving breaths of air, she began to plead for her freedom, for the ceasing of the tickling and the chance to orgasm. She had never felt so humiliated before.
“No Susan, no freedom for you. You’re my tickle slave now, for you must pay for your crimes against me. But don’t worry, I won’t be tickling or teasing for quite a long while. You see, I must go and pay Amber and Lisa a long overdue visit.” Susan was glad for the brief respite, and if his words were true, she would be left alone for some time. Maybe she could escape from this madman somehow and rescue her friends as well. But his next words swept away all hope she had.
“So while I’m away, I can’t leave you unattended.” He opened the door to her cell, and in walked 2 men and a woman. “Let me introduce you to Jake, Jack and Jill,” each one nodding as their names were called out. “They’re going to look after you really well while I’m gone Susan, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. They’ll make sure your penance goes on even without me. You see, Jake and Jack have a foot tickling fetish, while Jill like to keep pretty, helpless girls like yourself on the verge of orgasm. That’s what got them admitted here in the first place, so we’ll get a chance to kill two birds with one stones here. They’ll keep you in a permanent state of suffering, and maybe get a chance to cure themselves of their fetishes.” He smirked at Susan, “but I really doubt it.”
He watched for a long while as the men took their positions, one at each foot, while Jill climbed onto the gurney and placed a single finger on Susan’s clitoris. He watched as the men used their fingers and tongues to tickle Susan’s feet; light scratches, heavy scrabbling, mild stroking, licking her feet and toes, all seemed to keep Susan in a permanent state of hysterics as she laughed, screamed and babbled for the torment to stop. He watched as Jill played Susan’s clitoris like a virtuoso, using her skilled fingers and tongue to keep her constantly aroused but never allowing her the release of orgasm. He listened in deep satisfaction as Susan’s cries and tortured laughter were interspersed with helpless gasps of pleasure, and her pleas for the men to stop mingled with pleas to Jill to let her come. He smiled to himself as he limped out of the cell, leaving Susan alone in her hellish nightmare.
“Oh, Mr. Crayson, you’re a kinky one, aren’t you,” Amber cooed at her escort client, as he tied her arms above her head. She tugged on them playfully. “Oh dear, there’s no way I’m getting away from this,” she teased. He then tied her legs apart. “Oooh, you can do anything you want to me, and I can’t stop you now, Mr. Crayson,” she told him as she put on the little girl look on her face.
After finishing college, Amber had wanted to do some touring so she needed some money. And with her looks and body, she quickly realized that she would earn loads as a female escort. She was quite happy with the job and didn’t even mind the sex that most of her clients wanted. After all, she was getting paid good money! She had recently harboured the hope that she might even get a chance to do a Anna Nicole Smith, find some rich old geezer, work her considerable charms on him, marry him, wait for him to die, then take half of his money.
Amber was dressed only in a tiny bikini, and she had been bound in a standing position. She struggled playfully against her bonds, then told Mr Crayson in a pouty voice, “you’re such a bad boy, Mr Crayson, using me to play out your own evil fantasies in your own home. I don’t why I allowed you to tie me up, now you can do anything you want to do, and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.” Sometimes Amber could be the world’s greatest tease! “So what fantasy are you fulfilling today, Mr Crayson?” she asked innocently.
She had been worried at first about taking up this client because he had a bad leg, but when he showed her the size of his wallet and the color of his credit cards, that little bit of disability suddenly seemed very insignificant. Throughout the evening, he had been courteous and had splurged outrageously on her from shopping to food and wine.
He smiled as he removed the bikini from her body, leaving her in her naked splendour. “Ah, my fantasy for tonight, Amber, is about taking revenge on 3 girls who knocked me down in a car while drunk driving about a year ago.” He told Amber, as his hands roamed her helpless body. Ah, the joys that money can bring.
“Wha- what do you me-me-mean?” Amber asked in a now-frightened voice. Her struggles suddenly became more focused as she sought a way of escape from her bondage.
“Oh, I think you know what I mean, Amber. You’ve been a very naughty girl, driving under the influence of alcohol then not bothering to help your victim.” He suddenly pasted a strip of duct tape across her lips. Now Amber truly knew terror. She screamed, she bucked, she kicked, but all she succeeded at was making her breasts and buttocks jiggle enticingly for Mr Crayson. She ceased struggling and slumped helpless in her bonds. Her eyes were bright with fear, and tears sparkled in them, threatening to spill down her pale cheeks at any time.
He stood behind her, his hands gently stroking her arms. “I already have pretty little Susan in my clutches, Amber. She was deliriously happy the last time I saw her. It won’t be long before Lisa joins our party. But in the meantime-” he suddenly dug his hands into her exposed underarms, tickling away furiously. Amber shrieked muffledly into her gag and the sounds of tortured laughter soon followed. “I do hope that you’re ticklish!”
After a few minutes, he ceased his tickle assault. “Oh, no, this just won’t do, this is wrong,” he muttered. Amber heaved a sigh of relief, thinking it meant that Mr Crayson realized what he was doing was wrong. Until he corrected her misperception. “You’re struggling too much, Amber, and that won’t do.” With a practiced ease, he untied her from her bonds and then dragged her towards the wall. He pressed a secret lever and the wall opened to reveal a secret passage to what could only be a dungeon. She wailed in desperation, but there was to be no escape.
Soon, Amber was securely fastened to a rack in a lying down position. Her body was stretched tightly and she could struggle very little. She moaned in fear. He sat by her head. “There, there, my slave, that’s much better isn’t it? Now you can’t struggle so much, so you can only concentrate on the tickling I’m going to inflict upon your flesh. Doesn’t that sound FUN!” he emphasized the last word with a poke in her ribs, drawing out a muffled scream at the sudden attack. She sobbed helplessly. “Now where were we? Oh yes, those ticklish underarms of yours…” And for a long, long time, the only sounds in the dungeons were Amber’s muffled tortured cries and laughter.
“Excuse me miss, could you tell me how to get to-” the man tried valiantly to juggle his groceries, his walking stick, and the piece of paper which bore the address he was trying to locate.
Lisa looked upon the man with some pity. From the perspiration that soaked his shirt, it was obvious he had been looking for quite some time without much success. “Here let me have a look,” Lisa offered kindly, taking the piece of paper from him. He gladly relinquished the paper and set down his groceries with an audible sigh of relief. “Oh dear, you’re in the wrong region!” Lisa told him with consternation. No wonder he had been walking for so long!
At the glum look on his face, Lisa’s heart went out to him. “Here, my car’s just round the corner. Let me send you there. The look of happiness and thanks upon his face was like the sun coming out after a rainstorm. “Thank you so much, kind miss, thank you so much!” He bobbed his head several times subserviently.
In the car, Lisa tried to make small talk. She found out his name (Cray, just call me Cray, miss), what he was doing at the address (I’m looking after a friend’s pet, miss) and what work he did (I work sometimes at the nearby psychiatric clinic, miss, when they need cleaning up).
She had helped Cray bring his groceries into the lavish house, and as she stared in wonder at how a cripple like Cray knew such rich friends, she missed seeing the casually discarded ropes on the sofa that had just recently held her good friend in bondage. “You’re so kind, miss, to have taken me all the way here! I’m sure there’s a good reason for you being so kind, Lisa.” Cray’s voice suddenly changed from subservient to superior.
“How did you know my name?” Lisa asked, the first stirrings of fear were beginning to rise from her belly. She casually made her way towards the door.
“I know, you must think that being to kind to others can help make your mistake last year go away, Lisa.” She frantically twisted the doorknob but it wouldn’t open! She yanked at the door with all her might to no avail. She turned to look at her tormentor. A gun was in his hands now. “You’re wrong Lisa, there’s no way you can make a car accident go away, especially since you failed to kill me. Come now, let me show you the pet I’m taking care of. Her name’s Amber.”
Lisa couldn’t believe her eyes. Her best friend Amber was bound to a pole in a standing position, but only on one leg. Her other leg was outstretched at shoulder height, secured in position by a chain from the ceiling, as though offering her leg to anyone. And the way she was shaking her outstretched foot made it seem that she was indeed trying to offer her foot. The look of agony and moans from her told Lisa that she had suffered tremendously, and the hand prints on her belly, ribs, sides and armpits showed that Cray had helped himself to more than a feel of her body.
Cray dumped Lisa to the floor where she lay stunned. He moved to Amber, who looked at him pleadingly, shaking her foot at him. He smiled nastily and brought a brush and some white powder. Amber screamed into her gagged and shook head frantically. He dipped the brush in the powder and leisurely applied it to her helpless foot. Amber squeezed her eyes shut at the horrible itching sensations the powder brought out. She felt like she was going to die!
“Here, slave, let me take your mind off the itching,” Cray told Amber, as he moved behind her and placed his hands on her ribs. “Nothing like some good tickling to take away the itch, eh?” he taunted Amber as his fingers dug into her ribcage lightly. Her body jerked helplessly at this cruel onslaught of tickling. “Now slave, you’d better not pee on my floor or-” He had no chance to finish his threat for a stream of pee shot out from Amber. She cried. “Tsk, tsk, such a naughty slave,” he said as he took the brush and itching powder in his hands again. She moaned in terror, her eyes wide with fear. “I think you need to itch all over your body…”
He then turned his attention to a very frightened Lisa. “Now let’s see if you’re as ticklish as Amber and Susan…” he told her as he advanced towards her menacingly. She crawled backwards until she reached the wall. By now Lisa was openly sobbing.
“Please! We didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything you want Cray!” Lisa begged piteously.
“Oh, you’ll be sorry all right,” Cray promised her. “Very sorry indeed!”
The days passed in a blur of merciless tickle torture for both girls. And being the merciless sadist that he was, Cray soon began to play more cruel games with them.
One of his favourite games with his two gorgeous tickle slaves was to secure each to a rack, with their legs spread as wide as possible. They would then be brought close together, feet to feet. He would then proceed to lightly tickle their inner thighs, working his way towards their bikini line, where he had discovered to his delight that they both hated being tickled there. The rule of this cruel game was that the first slave to make any noise would lose. She would then be subjected to an all out inner thigh tickling by Cray, while the other would get a tickle respite.
To prolong their suffering, Cray only employed a light touch during this game, either gently stroking with his fingers or using a feather only. He delighted in the cruelty of the game, where each slave had to endure the tickling in silence. He would stare rapturously at Amber’s pretty face, screwed in lines of agony, and the clenched jaw as she held back any noise. Only her eyes begged for his mercy when she found the will to open them and stare at her tormentor. Lisa was in no better shape, with her eyes squeezed shut in ticklish agony and her teeth gritted to hold back her noise. All the while his fingers stroked and tickled their bikini lines with impunity, sometimes using a feather to add to the variations of ticklish sensations his slaves were feeling.
Inevitably, one or the other would finally succumb to the incessant tickling and cry out, upon which he would then move the winner away and keep her in an upright position so she could watch helplessly the horrific tickling her was about to inflict on the loser. When he was feeling particularly vicious, he would insert a vibrator into the winner’s pussy, and whisper into her ear that she had better keep the vibrator in her pussy for the duration of his tickle torture session with the loser, or else… Some other times, he would force the winner to take part in the tickling by making her lick the loser’s bikini line.
Another of his favourite games was to tie both side by side, and then start tickling either Amber or Lisa. The only way he would stop his tickling assault was for the other slave to cry out “tickle me”. Then he would stop tickling the first girl and proceed to tickle the second. He particularly enjoyed it when the slave being tickled would beg her friend to cry out the code word to save her from the cruel tickling and he took great pleasure in taunting them that their friendship was not as great as it would seem!
Consider the following session:
Cray had chosen Lisa to start with, and he was taking his time, slowly building up her torment. He lightly drew random patterns on her underarms, making her writhe in agony and whimper for him to stop. Then he had rested his thumbs in the center of her pits, and pressed down hard. Lisa shrieked and would have undoubtedly shot to the roof were it not for the bonds. He then sank his fingers deep into her underarms, wiggling away madly. Her cries and tortured laughter did not seem human.
“PLEASE HELP ME AMBER!!” She screamed for mercy from her friend, as he intensified the tickling now by placing his lips on her quivering belly and blowing raspberries onto it. His pleasure knew no bounds as his fingers tickled Lisa’s underarms while his mouth inflicted unbearable agonies upon her belly.
“Please tickle me!” He heard Amber cry out fearfully, not able to bear the torments that Lisa was undergoing. Without warning he straddled Amber’s body and immediately sank his fingers into her sides, employing a firm massaging technique to drive Amber to hysterics. His hands slowly traveled up her sides, moving to her ribs and then down again. This passage continued for a long time, and soon it was Amber’s turn to screech to Lisa to stop the tickling.
But Lisa was still recovering from her own attack, and could not bear to endure more tickling. The knowing look that Cray gave to Lisa was chilling. “LISA!!!” Amber screamed in desperation, as Cray continued his passage up and down her ticklish sides. “HELP ME PLEASE!!” Amber screamed.
“Tickle me!” Lisa called out in a broken voice, knowing that she would not bear the tickling to come, yet unable to see her friend suffer so.
Immediately Cray moved to her legs and began to knead and squeeze her knees and the flesh just above her knees. Lisa knew the meaning of pure tickle torture. She screamed, she laughed, she struggled; and then she screamed and laughed some more. She couldn’t even find the breath to beg Amber to help.
On and on this cycle of tickling went, with each cycle getting progressively longer as both friends found it increasingly difficult to beg for the tickling to switch to herself. Such were the delights that Cray had with his two slaves. Finally, he decided that the three friends should now be reunited. The transport arrangements were easy, bringing Lisa and Amber to his clinic to join Susan.
In the cell, Lisa and Amber were chained in a kneeling position, each facing the other, arms above the head. A double-sided dildo was secured in their mouths, bringing their faces close together. Their nipples were similarly affixed, though with nipple clamps. In this way, when one moved, the other would have her nipples painfully tugged. The closeness of their faces allowed them to see each other’s facial expressions and to understand the humiliation and suffering each was undergoing.
Cray was lightly tickling Amber’s feet and she was staying as still as she could so as not to pull Lisa’s nipples. Her agony was plain for Lisa to see as she tried to stay still and let Cray tickle her, instead of struggle and pull away. He had been tickling Amber’s foot for about 15 minutes already, and she was close to breaking her immobility.
He was enjoying the sight of Susan having her feet tickled mercilessly while being kept on the edge of orgasm by his helpers. He watched with fascination as conflicting emotions ran across her face, sometimes agony from the tickling, sometimes pleasure, but most often, the frustration of not being able to achieve the climax that she so desperately needed. And she really needed it, for since her capture, and since she had been introduced to the skills of Jill, she had not had a single orgasm yet! And the cruel fiend that he was, Cray insisted that Susan never orgasm.
In a similar manner, he was enjoying the desperate pleas that Susan was offering. Mingled with her laughter were pleas to both Jill and her Master Cray to allow her to orgasm, that she would be a good tickle slave, that she would do anything to be allowed to cum. She would perform any sexual perversion they required of her, would debase herself to any level they desired, as long as they would let her cum just once. She even began suggesting acts that she was willing to perform so as to get her orgasm!
Cray smiled evilly at the helpless babbling Susan. Turning his attention to Lisa, he ceased his foot tickling of Amber and instead began to lightly stroke Lisa’s underarm. She barely resisted the impulse to turn away from the tickling, light as it was. Then his other hand began to stroke Amber’s side, and she too struggled not to move. “Well, my slaves, Susan has suggested some very fun activities for us to engage in! But as she is currently indisposed, that leaves just you and me!”
Oh yes, Cray’s revenge was certainly coming along just fine!
The things she could do to me 4-ever
