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Tickle Pimp part 3

Kid Indy

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

Part III

by Kid Indy

Joy Evans slid her long legs out of her khaki pants, feeling more than usual the sensation of the material against her skin. Her normal work week was over, and her part time job was about to begin. Hidden in a small dressing room underground, she finished undressing and then slid into the sheer hose and red underwear--the Victoria's Secret tags told her that Jim had bought the good stuff--supplied by her employer. She had made almost four hundred dollars in her "training" nights alone, but tonight gave her a new thrill and a new worry. Her first client was on the way. Joy was an advertising intern during the day, but at night her boss was a tickle pimp.

She knocked at her dressing room door to signal that she was ready. Jim opened the door and led her into the main tickling room. The cuffs and stocks were in a familiar position, the same one that Jim had used the night he kidnapped her. "Starndard, position, huh?"

"There is no standard position, kid. This is just the one tonight's client prefers. Now sit on the bench." Joy did as instructed, noting silently that she was getting too accustomed to being strapped in to bondage equipment. Jim secured her hands above her head using a pair of fur-lined cuffs, a nylon rope, and a hook attached to the ceiling. He tightened the rope-brake and moved down to her feet. She cooperatively lifted her left foot, then her right, into the padded stocks. Jim noted but did not touch the contrast between the lightly tanned tops and soft pink bottoms of those feet, a contrast noticeable even through the hose. He shut the stocks, locked them, and wheeled the tool cart near to Joy's bench. He then walked behind Joy and started to fasten a blindfold over her eyes.

"What are you doing that for?"

"Anonymity. Your client prefers that you do not see him."

"Why does he want that?"

"Why does anyone ever want anonymity?" Apparently satisfied with his own rhetorical question, Jim closed the heavy door as he exited the room. Joy's fears began to well up, but she reminded herself that Jim would be in the next room. That this fact was a comfort only reminded her how crazy life had become.

Soon she heard the door open again, and Jim was talking to someone. "You've paid for thirty minutes, and you know the rules. She's all yours. Your time starts" Joy heard a stopwatch beep "now." Joy gasped as she heard the door shut behind him.

Footsteps advanced on her, and Joy knew that the time was here. "Mmm... Joy..." was all that the bodiless voice said. She wondered again whether this person knew her or whether Jim had just told him her name. The footsteps wandered beside her, behind her. She also wondered whether Jim was right, whether he would be some kind of rookie. The answer would not be an easy one. Fingers, smaller than Jim's but larger than her own, suddenly dug into her armpits. He hadn't prepped her like Jim had done the first time, but it was still awful being tickled and not being able to cover up. She let out a scream, then started begging, "No, no, no..." His fingers all moved at once, creating a predictable rhythm. It still forced laughter out of her, but she held a secret confidence knowing that, even though this unknown man was in control, she had taken worse from Jim. This was little comfort for her body; her torso still flailed, her hips shifting across the padded bench as her midsection snaked from the unwelcome fingers. After just a few minutes (again, not nearly as bad as Jim's treatment) the man stopped the tickling and laughed a low laugh to himself. "This is kind of fun." Joy could have sworn she knew the voice.

He walked to her left side, and his hand got a grip on her belly. Four fingers dug into the right side while the thumb worked on the left. Joy jumped, and her laughing started up again. When her hips thrust forward he lost his grip, but he soon reestablished it, drawing another shriek and a sustained girlish giggle. Before she knew it his other hand was back in her right armpit, and she again jumped. She could barely feel a work shirt brush her side, but that sensation was only brief and could not match the awful tickling. Her fears that she might have to fake a laugh were long gone now; amateur or not, this guy was tickling her for all he was worth, and she was in agony. Soon his other hand was off of her belly and back under her arm. Her head started to thrash front to back, and she could barely hear his approving sound over her own laughing. Again, after a few minutes the tickling stopped. She wondered how much longer she had to go.

Noises started to come from the cart as the unseen tickler picked up first one tool, then another, setting each down with a metallic thump as he surveyed them. Joy ventured to ask, "Do I know you?" The man stopped his examination of the tools for a second but was soon back at it. He did not answer. She only heard him say, "Here we go..."

She soon felt the teeth of the comb on her left heel, then up the length of her foot towards her toes. She let out a short yelp, but then she got bold. She began to shift her feet out of harm's way as much as the stocks would let her. She singsonged at her unknown client, "Can't catch me..."

"I'll catch you alright. Get over here." He grabbed at her toes, but the hose slipped down, and all he got was a handful of nylon. Joy started to giggle, for once not due to the tickling.

"You still don't have me... eek!" Her tease became a squeal as he scraped his nails down her other sole.

"How do you like that?"

"It tickles!"

"Yeah, I thought it would." Joy now had a clear memory of what the voice sounded like; she might be able to use this later. It wasn't a young voice, but neither was it old or harsh. Suddenly the toes on her right foot were caught; she tried to shift, but his grip held firm. "You're in trouble now, Joy!" His short fingernails suddenly began to wiggle across her sole. The hose were amplifying the sensations, and she screamed again. He kept working on that one sole, and she lost her breath for a moment, only to burst into her out-of-control laugh. The man, who had not stopped when her giggling had cut off, kept scratching away at her nylon foot-sheath. Her left foot pivoted like mad, working her toes back into the end of the hose.

The tickling let off for a second, but his firm grip on her right foot stayed. She knew he was going for a tool, and she strained to get out of his grip. He laughed when he felt her trying to move. "No, Joy. No getting out of this now." She felt the shower brush again, and the thousand tickling bristles drove her immediately back into a laugh of abandon. He was using a motion of the wrist, and the short, side-to-side motions transferred to her feet an overwhelming sensation and pushed her into a chest-heaving laugh. Although it still had its musical quality, it was not the light giggle that she usually produced, and the tickler loved it. He kept the brush moving, travelling from ball to heel but always shifting back and forth with torturous speed. Before Joy knew what was happening, he had let her right foot go and established a firm grip on her left. The brush and the hose sent electricity through this foot, and Joy's tears began again to run down. He put her left through the same torture, and Joy once again experienced the drive beyond her normal threshold. But once again she found that no matter how much she wanted to, she could not lose her consciousness; she just kept on laughing.

The brushing stopped, and she heard the man say, "Nuts! Only two minutes left." She sighed, but she soon felt the man's warmth hovering near her face. In a forced accent the man said, "You never seen me, girl. You never even met me before." He was trying to sound Boston, but she remembered his neutral, midwest accent and could hear it through his disguise. He poked her with a finger under her left arm, drawing another squeal. "But I'll be back. I'll be back." The door behind him opened.

"I still have two minutes left." His accent had dropped.

"Not by the official timer. Don't worry--you can always come back."

"You wouldn't mind that at all, would you?"

"Not at all, friend. If you have the money, we have Joy. Just give me a call when you want to go again." The man walked out and closed the door. Jim took off her blindfold. "You did well, Joy. Lasted the whole half hour and didn't cry Nineveh once."

Joy remembered wanting to many times. "No, I didn't. Now could you please untie me?"



On the way home Joy said, "I'm kind of hungry. Would you like to stop and get a bite to eat?"

Jim waited a moment, then said, "Yeah, I've got about forty-five minutes before my next pick-up. We can get something fast." Joy felt the van turning, then Jim turned it off. After he uncuffed her, she stepped out of the van and saw that they were at a McDonald's.

"You really know how to show a girl a good time, Jim."

"Hey, I'm buying. I wouldn't complain."

Sitting down in a back booth with burgers and fries, Jim counted out some bills and passed them under the table. Joy quickly counted it and found three hundred twenty dollars. "I thought you said the money was going to get big," she half-mumbled.

"Hey, for half an hour's work, it ain't bad. Look, that was a first-timer. I don't charge them as much. Once they get hooked, then we start squeezing them." Jim emphasized his point by stabbing the air with a french fry.

"I guess that makes some sense. So how many of us do you kidnap?"

"Kidnap? Oh, you mean the first time. I don't keep too many employees--gets to be too complicated. It's usually quite a while between requests."

"Requests? Like requests for people to get grabbed?"

"Requests to enjoy a particular woman's company, yes. Of course, the requester isn't the only one who tickles you."

"Was that the requester tonight?"

"I don't disclose information about clients."

"But was he?"

"I'm not going to tell you, Joy. Now eat your burger." The conversation only lasted a few more minutes before Jim picked up the tray, emptied it into the trash, and motioned for Joy to follow him. She rode shotgun home, enjoying for the first time the view from the front of the van. He dropped her off at home well before dark and waved to her as she walked toward the elevator. She wondered what she might do with her extra cash.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay, this time it is going to take a few days before the next installment. Seriously. I'm not going to have a chance to sit down in front of a computer for any longer than a few minutes until Tuesday, maybe Wednesday.

That aside, is the series shaping up? This is my first try at writing tickle fiction, and I still wonder how I'm doing. Also, I've got a basic plot structure for the last few episodes in mind, but any ideas from you would be excellent.
 
Well well well...

I'm certainly impressed. I find myself scanning through the forum to find parts 1 and 2....I look forward with great eagerness to the next part!
 
dude you have QUITE a talent -- if anyone wants ever to do a tickling movie, like a full length deally, you should totally be the one to write it -- quite a flair for descriptions and stuff-- magnific!
-Ed
 
Nice!

Indy, I am growing more and more impressed by your work. Keep it up. The concept is neat and the interplay between the two characters is interesting. Tickle Pimp is an all around cool character.
Thanks for the tales!
 
Mighty Fine!

What a solid, solid series! Keep up the great work!
 
Thanks for the input, everyone. I'm sorry for the delay; things have gotten crazy around here. But in the next few days the next episode ought to be up.

To eddieT particuarly, thank you for the compliment. I've tried writing plays, though, and I just don't have the feel for it.

For everyone, what city do you imagine this series taking place in? I've kept place-names generic, but is there a locale that seems fitting?

One last thing... I promise... If any of you want to write spin-off stories, feel free. I've found that elaborators on ideas often tell better stories than the originators. So don't hesitate to open up franchises of your own! :D
 
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