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Tickle Pimp part 2

How is this story turning out?

  • Good plot, characters, and tickling

    Votes: 19 95.0%
  • Good story, substandard tickling

    Votes: 1 5.0%
  • Good tickling, rotten story

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Not worth reading

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    20

Kid Indy

TMF Expert
Joined
Oct 12, 2001
Messages
365
Points
18
Tickle Pimp

Part II

by Kid Indy

Every person who shops in a mall on a weekend has secrets. Every secret is unique to a person. One shopper, an attractive aspiring advertiser, knew where her money came from but could not tell. Her name was Joy Evans, and her money had come from a tickle pimp. Her feet, now clad in running shoes and cotton socks, had just nights before endured a tickling that left her near the edge of sanity. They now carried her from department store to department store. The money that Jim, her kidnapper, had given her bought an outfit nicer than she lost when he cut her clothes off, but her skin tingled and remembered the tickling; she remembered the means through which she got the suit and dreaded a vision of a white van that was coming Monday night.

At work on Monday Joy was understandably preoccupied. She wore a pair of thick tights, hoping that they would not amplify the torture like her nylon hose had on Thursday. The men at the agency flirted and smiled as usual, but Joy had too much on her mind to make too much of an effort to return the attention. She plugged away at the statistical reports with her usual momentum, ate lunch alone at a local health food cafe, and finished her work day at about six o'clock. Hurrying to her car, she hoped that Jim would not be waiting for her.

After her drive back to the city's edge, Joy parked in the garage under her apartment and started walking towards the elevator. Her heart sunk when she saw Jim's van three spots from the elevator door. He was leaning against the back of the vehicle, and he opened the back hatch as she approached.

"You miss me?" he asked with a smirk. Joy just stepped up into the van with no back windows. Behind the two front seats was a small curtain, then an empty space with one bucket seat. She knew that the seat was hers. Resignedly, she sat in it, and Jim fastened the fur-lined cuffs around her wrists. He then produced a pillowcase from the front seat and pulled it down over her head. "You don't have to do this. I promise not to look." Jim only chuckled.

On the way to the site, Joy was more talkative this time. "So who is it that pays for all this?"

"Clients."

"What sorts of people are those?"

"Let me ask you this: Have you ever heard of professional card players, like in Las Vegas?"

"I've heard of them..."

"Did you ever wonder where their money comes from? I mean, if they only won money off of each other, there would only be that common pot, and then nobody could use that money to live off of."

Joy thought she might be understanding. "So their money comes from rich people who play in those games and lose money just for the thrill."

"Exactly. And those are the same kinds of people who finance my business. They come to tickle because they have the desire and the money to come and tickle. You'll see once the real money starts coming in, Joy. This isn't a bad business to be in."

A few minutes later they were at the site again. Jim led her up the three stairs, through the upper floor, and into a small room in the basement. He took the pillowcase off of her head and handed her a small shopping bag. Joy looked inside to find expensive-looking panties and a matching bra. "I'll go in the other room. Put these on and knock when you're done changing." He motioned to some hangers on a peg in the wall. "You can hang your clothes there so they don't get messed up." Joy looked around; this was a smaller room than the one she had been tickled in last time. "Oh, one more thing. Bare-legged tonight." He reached down and pulled on her tights. "These have to stay in here." Joy silently cursed, but when he shut the door she changed into the borrowed underwear anyway. It fit her quite nicely, and both pieces smelled freshly laundered. She knocked on the door, and Jim opened it.

"Who's going to be the client tonight?"

A grunt. "You aren't done training yet."

"What do you mean? You tickled me out of my mind last time."

"That's not all there is to this job. Now lie on your stomach on the bench." Joy looked, and the cuffs and stocks were in a different position.

"What gives? Why are you changing everything around? First you won't let me have my tights, and now--"

"Look, you aren't getting paid to do the same thing every time. Now lie on your stomach so I can explain to you." Joy began to comply, and Jim explained as he began to fasten the stocks around her ankles. "I have a catalog of positions for the ticklee. You were in the most common one Thursday, and this is another one. And as far as tickling you out of your mind, you have no idea just how ticklish you can become. Don't kid yourself into thinking you've had the worst." As he said this, he put a pair of padded cuffs on one of Joy's wrists, pulled both wrists over her head, and fastened a bungee cord to the cuffs and to a ring on the ground. Her chin was on a pillow, and she could bring her arms down below her head with some effort, but the cord's tension soon pulled them straight again. She noticed that she was closer to the ground this time. "So why are you showing me this position?"

"So I can do this!" He grabbed her on both sides of her belly, wriggling his fingers into her flesh. His close-cropped nails did not bite into her, and she felt no pain to balance out the maddening tickles. She shrieked in surpise and tried to make some kind of bargain, but once again she found herself laughing with a forced enthusiasm, her body overriding any willpower she once thought she had. This time there was no variation of speed; the surprise of the attack had broken her defenses in an instant, and he was going full throttle underneath her body. When her hips bucked up, he followed her belly with his strong, fast hands. When gravity pulled her down she fell down on those same tickling fingers. Her freedom of movement was much less than the last time, so the sensations were even more constant. Jim only kept this up for a few minutes, and he let Joy have a breather. Her skin, before exhibiting a pleasant light tan, now shone red with exertion. "You see, when you're on your stomach, it becomes much more sensitive than when you're sitting up. Besides, you couldn't see where I was going to go next, so you were more sensitive."

Joy was just getting her breath back. "I don't want to be in this business."

"You will once the money starts coming in. Most girls I've worked with have to be convinced to get out. Now, there are a few safety tools we've got here. You remember seeing the black dome on the ceiling?"

"Yes."

"That's a surveillance microphone. When you're in here with a client, I'll be in the other room, but I'll hear everything. So if your client starts getting rough, I'll be in here before you know it."

"That's reassuring." Joy was not sure how sarcastic she was being.

"I tell my clients that they may not strike you and that they may not touch your underwear or anything underneath it. If they start to, you have to say 'Nineveh'."

"Nineveh?"

"It's an ancient city. Biblical stuff." Joy wondered when this kidnapper had been studying ancient history. "If you say Nineveh, I come through the door. Now if you say that, and I don't think you had good reason, you don't get paid for the night. But if a client is trying to go past the line, that client is an enemy." As he was saying this, Joy heard him opening the tool case again. "Okay, enough talk for now. Let's get back to business." Joy felt his fingers again, this time on her soles.

Joy had the feet of a business woman; although the ball and heel of her slender feet had callouses from walking, the soles proper had been in shoes for so long that they had no defenses. And even though the bottoms of her toes were relatively tough, the rest of her toes, along with the skin between them, was very sensitive. Jim manipulated the skin of her soles with his fingertips until she was shrieking and giggling, then one hand reached for a tool that Joy could not see. "You like that, Joy?"

"No!"

"Good. Most of these guys want to put you through some torture anyway. Now you're going to feel the bare feet tools!" Joy suddenly felt the plastic teeth of a barber's comb running up and down her left sole. Jim had grabbed her toes so that she could not move; her senses were being overloaded by the awful raking. While he held her toes, he accordioned his fingers underneath them, compounding the tickles. Joy begged and giggled and burst into girlish shrieks. Her face, which had returned to her natural color before, was again red, and tears began to flow. He soon released that foot. She rotated the right as she could, but it too was soon under his control, and she was again in agony. She hauled on the bungee cord holding her wrists, but she could not bring her hands back in defense of her poor feet. He just kept tickling, even when she once again felt like she was going to pass into unconsciousness. Indeed, her luck would not run that way, but after much more laughter he stopped.

Joy again began to pant. "That was awful, but those brushes last night were worse."

Jim, who was already there wiping Joy's face with the tissue, replied, "You haven't experienced the real fun of barefooting." He walked back out of Joy's line of sight again. Joy began to giggle just thinking about what was coming next. "You won't think it's so funny once it's here, Joy." She wanted to say that she wasn't laughing for humor, but she suddenly felt Jim loop straps around her big toes. He pulled the straps down and forward so that her feet formed right angles with her calves, and he looped the strap around something Joy only guessed was a hook under the table. Her feet were now immobile, and her toes were spread apart.

"No, please, Jim, I can't take any--" The last syllable turned into a short scream as Jim inserted feathers between her second and third toes on each foot. With one he sawed back and forth with staccato strokes; the other he drew back and forth, the full length of the feather, each pass tickling her with all of the torturous quill. Joy's torso contracted and bucked, but she could not shake her toes loose. The tickling, already maddening, was now so intense that she could not even think. Jim alternated gaps and speeds, each feather's withdrawal soon followed by an excruciating re-entry. With those two feathers he drew laughter that started as her beautiful melodious giggle, drifted into a desperate breathless gasping, and travelled even further into a laugh of utter abandon. Joy, of course, could not appreciate these steps; she merely wished for an end until even her will to wish disappeared into the consuming tickling feeling. Her resolve broken and her limits pushed even further, Joy did not even feel full relief when he stopped.

"Now that's fun with barefooting." Joy could not respond; she was still coming back to herself. "Now of course, my clientele generally lacks the skill that I do, so you can rest assured that what you just experienced is about as bad as it will get."

"Does that mean that I can go now?"

"No, but since you asked that question, we're going one more round." Joy cried in despair, but his fingers under her arms quickly turned her cry into another round of ticklish laughs. She tried to pull on the bungee cord, but her strength had largely been drained by the awful toe-tickling, and besides, his hands were already there; if she tried to pull her arms to her sides, she only drove his hands in further. So Jim continued to explore her underarms, for what seemed forever, then stopped. He began to undo the stocks. "That does it for tonight, Joy." Joy did not answer; when he wiped her face off and loosed her hands, she curled up on the couch and remained in a fetal position for a few seconds.

"You still haven't experienced what a really good tickler can do to your body."

"But you said you don't get really good ticklers, right? I mean, as clients?" She had emerged from her ball and sat up.

"Naw. Over here in America the only really good ones are involved in a profession that involves tickling. Like me. You'll be at the hands of amateurs starting Friday."

That did provide some comfort, and Joy got up, went into her dressing room, and changed clothes.

On the ride back, Joy got curious again. "Why did you pick me out? Why not some runaway?"

"Because anyone can hire a drug-addicted runaway. People pay big bucks for healthy, good-looking professional women. It's part of the fantasy element."

"So why the avoidance of sex?"

"Because it makes it easier in the long run. Professionals, people who wouldn't have sex for pay, are just fine getting tickled. And besides, I wouldn't want my girlfriend screwing for money. I'm sure your boyfriend doesn't want that either."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"No, I'm just into my business."

Joy suddenly got bold. "You mean you get your own jollies listening to women get tickled."

"While the tickling is going on? You've got to be kidding me. If I have my pants down, I can't protect you if a client goes over the line. I prefer 'powerful emotions recalled in tranquility.' That's Wordsworth, you know." Joy wondered why a kidnapper and temp-slaver would be reading Wordsworth in his spare time. But she had no time to wonder. The van pulled into a parking space. Jim untied her, took the blindfold off, and sent her on her way. Her watch read 9:12.

* * * * * * * *

Alright, that's the second installation of my story. If you could, drop some feedback and answer the survey above. If you can't do both, either would be appreciated. The third installation will take a bit longer; I'm going to be busy the next few days. But any suggestions are welcome.

Kid Indy
 
You're doing a splendid job. Keep up the great work!
 
Great story

I'm a lurker here, read often, post little. But I had to tell you that this story is awesome. The writing, characters are very well developed, & aside from the tickling, my favorite thing about the story is that this guy is going to protect her if someone tries to hurt her. Keep it going!
 
Awesome

You're doing very well, Kid. Keep it up! I love this series so far. The relationship between the pimp and Joy is really cool. I love the way you are developing those characters.

- DFT
 
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Alright!

This is a fine, quality series you have going! Keep it up!
 
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