Midnight2_2222
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Here’s my second effort at storytelling. All of the characters are 18 years old or over. Please don’t reproduce any part of this series for profit. I hope you enjoy it.
“The Witherrock Estate, Part One”
Somewhere in suburban American, on a night lit by moonlight, three girls were on their way back from the movies. It wasn’t the kind of town where you had to be worried about walking at night and the threesome had decided to hang out at Sasha’s house after the flick. The movie hadn’t been all that good but the girls were pals and made their own fun; their joking and giggling echoed down the empty street.
The first of the girls was Sasha, a spunky brunette wearing jeans and a sleeveless black tank top. Thin-rimmed glasses rested on her nose, covering her hazel eyes. Her shoulder length hair hid her pentagram shaped earrings. All three of the girls were students at the local college; Sasha was the only one lucky enough to afford an apartment and it was their normal spot to hang out. She was far too independent to stand dorm life; Sasha had a real “go get ‘em” attitude that sometimes clashed with prudes among the student body.
Next to her was Tabitha, the baby of the group. Although she was only a year younger than her friends they still treated her like the little sister of their triad. Tabitha didn’t really mind so long as it didn’t embarrass her in front of others and it was rare that the other girls did anything that hurt her feelings. Her blonde hair fell down to her shoulder blades, covering the back of her green t-shirt. The shirt was cut a little short and left Tabitha’s belly button open to the springtime air. Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Tabitha was wearing her usual plucky grin. Tabitha was the pragmatic one out of the group; hers was the voice of restraint whenever Sasha wanted to do something impulsive.
Last was Alexa, an attractive redhead. Like Tabitha, Alexa left her crimson hair long and it almost fell to the small of her back. She wore a blue t-shirt with a pair of shorts and sneakers. Alexa fancied herself to be an athlete and tended to be more competitive than the other girls. Her favorite pastime was screaming at the television during football season, which was something that her two friends couldn’t understand. That often led to her second favorite pastime, the dreaded tickle fight that would ensue when Sasha decided she’d heard enough swearing at the referees. Although she’d never admit it, Alexa enjoyed being helplessly tickled; the loss of control triggered a thrill that she couldn’t replicate with any extreme sport.
“Hey look,” said Alexa, “someone left the gate of the Witherrock place open.”
The girls stopped along the rusted steel gate of the creepiest estate in town. The old Witherrock mansion had been abandoned for over twenty years ever since its owner just disappeared one day. Local urban legends had sprung up since suggesting everything from murder to alien abduction. Supposedly Miss Witherrock was into the occult and bizarre ceremonies were rumored to have taken place inside. Everyone in town agreed that the place had to be haunted. Sneaking into the estate had been a rite of passage when the girls were teens; of course no one ever got more than a few feet into it before some creaking board scared the wits out of everyone.
“Maybe it was the ghost,” said Sasha, “that, you know, left the gate open. Maybe the ghost wants us to come visit…”
“Oh stop it,” said Tabitha, “no one actually believes that.”
“Listen to Miss Logical here,” teased Alexa. “I bet she doesn’t even know.”
“Know what?” asked Tabitha. From behind her Sasha winked to Alexa, indicating that it might be time to have a little fun with their blonde pal.
“Well,” answered Alexa, “today is Friday the 13th.”
“And every Friday the 13th the ghost of old Miss Witherrock roams the halls of the mansion,” said Sasha. “People say they’ve seen lights in the windows…”
“Yeah, candle lights!” said Alexa. “She lights one for every stupid kid who sneaks into her place and never comes out alive.”
Tabitha crossed her arms. “Do you really expect me to believe that garbage? We’re all in college now so it’s time to act like it. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
Sasha grabbed Tabitha’s shoulders and turned her towards the open gate. “Well, if you’re so sure then you can lead the way inside!”
“Wh-wh-wait!” cried Tabitha as Sasha tried to shove her forward. “No! We’ll get in trouble! What if a cop drives by?!”
“Please,” replied Alexa, “the donut-eating-brigade won’t even get out of their cars. I think you’re scared to go in for another reason!”
“Yeah, I think you’re scared of the ghost!” teased Sasha.
Tabitha shot out her arms and grabbed the iron bars of the gate, trying to keep Sasha from pushing her inside the yard. “I’m not scared of ghosts. That’s for kids. But we’ll get in big trouble if we get caught in there. Hey, they say it’s condemned and someone might get hurt!”
“Excuses, excuses, excuses,” sang Sasha. The brunette wiggled her fingertips into Tabitha’s ribs.
Tabitha squealed and flung her blonde hair from side to side. “Cut it out! HEEEEEEEEEEE! Sasha! That tickles!”
“Ah, is poor Tabitha ticklish?” teased Alexa. The redhead slipped her index finger in the right sleeve of Tabitha’s shirt. Her fingernail was in the perfect position to scratch against the bare skin of her friend’s armpit. Scratch she did, lightly brushing against the sensitive flesh under Tabitha’s arm.
“Hehehehe! Cut it out you goofs!” Tabitha lost her grip on the gate and clamped her arms against her sides. It was an understandable response, she’d always been quite ticklish and protecting her flanks was simple reflex.
“Forward ho!” cried Sasha. She bum-rushed Tabitha up onto the old mansion’s porch. Alexa closed the gate behind them.
“I really don’t like this idea,” said Tabitha. She glanced around with timid eyes.
“Don’t worry Tabby,” said Alexa. “I’ll take care of that mean old ghost if she gets big on you.”
Suddenly the girls were struck silent as the front door creaked open. A cold wind blew across the deck, giving all three of them goose bumps. Footsteps could be heard inside yet not a soul could be seen.
“I wanna leave,” stammered Tabitha.
“I have to see what’s inside,” said Sasha. She raced in the open door.
“Sasha, wait for us!” cried Alexa. Sasha was always acting impulsively, it usually only led to trouble.
“What are you two so scared of?” asked Sasha. “Come on, let’s do some ghostbusting!” Sasha jumped up and down on the old floor. There was a slight creak just before the floor buckled under Sasha’s feet. She fell down and out of sight.
Tabitha and Alexa ran to the edge of the newly made hole and yelled out for their friend. They were answered with a familiar mischievous giggle. Not only was Sasha alright but she was apparently quite pleased with what she’d found.
“This is too cool,” called Sasha. “I fell onto some kind of old bed. Guys, check it out, there’s some kind of dungeon down here! I mean, there are chains and handcuffs on the walls around the bed. And there are all kinds of weird things on the table. I think old Miss Witherrock entertained the slaves down here, if you know what I mean.” More giggles followed as Sasha sifted through the various naughty tools lying on the table by the bed.
“Be careful Sasha!” yelled Tabitha. “Can you get back up?”
“No,” replied Sasha, “it was a pretty good fall. I’ll have to find the stairs.”
“Stay there,” yelled Alexa, “we’ll come to you.” Alexa tugged Tabitha’s arm towards a nearby door; the two girls set out to find the stairs leading down.
There wasn’t much light down where Sasha was; deep shadows lined the walls and corners. Nevertheless, the room was full of kinky toys and she wanted to explore around. The brunette plucked a feather duster off a wall mount and twirled it in her palms.
“Hmm, I wonder what Miss Witherrock used this for (giggle)?” Sasha turned the duster upright and spun it under her chin. “Was this to torture the slaves? Maybe the old Chinese tickle torture, eh?”
“Something like that,” answered a female voice.
Sasha turned around but didn’t see anyone who could have said the words. She dropped the duster and clenched her hands into fists. Suddenly she felt very afraid, however, it wasn’t her style to show fear.
“Who’s there?” asked Sasha.
“You’re a little trespasser,” said the voice.
“I mean it, who’s there?!”
“You’re lippy for a trespasser. Tonight must be my lucky night, I’ve been hoping for some new guests.”
Sasha backed into the corner, her eyes scanned from one side of the room to the other. There was no one out there yet this voice sounded like it was right next to her.
“You’d better step out,” warned Sasha, “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
Laughter erupted in response to Sasha’s threat. “You’re a cute little spitfire, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
Sasha felt a chill come across her, like what they say happens when a ghost passes through your body. She shivered, half from the cold and half from fear.
“Tell me your name my sweet,” commanded the voice. “I have ways to loosen those lips if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“Wh-where are you?” whispered Sasha. She could see her breath on the air even though the temperature had been in the seventies. An invisible hand slipped through her brown hair; Sasha jumped in surprise.
“Pl-please. I didn’t mean to trespass.” Sasha’s tone became a little more shaken.
“Hmm, missy isn’t so tough now, is she?” said the voice. “Are you scared of ghosts little girl?”
“Umm, no. I’m not scared, ghosts don’t exist.”
“Good, I’m glad you feel that way.”
A force grabbed Sasha by the wrists and yanked her up in the air. The brunette screamed and kicked her legs. It was futile; there was nothing for her to strike with her sneakers. The force moved Sasha until she was dangling over the bed.
“Put me down! Put me down! Oh gawd, someone help me!!!” Sasha’s tough girl veneer was gone; tears of terror began to well up in her eyes.
“Now you listen to me,” said the voice. “I’ll put you down if, and only if, you follow my commands. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes! Please put me down!” Sasha was rewarded with her release; the force deposited her on the bed.
“Now, lay on your back,” said the voice.
Sasha did as told. Her eyes were wide with fear; she wondered what was about to happen to her.
“Now, raise your arms like you’re under arrest. Reach up… that’s it! Keep reaching up until you can touch the bedposts!”
Sasha stretched her arms up so far that her shirt rode up, uncovered her tummy. Her sleeveless tank top didn’t protect much to begin with; it had been such a nice night that such an outfit was appropriate. Now it left her in a very precarious position. It got worse as invisible hands pulled padded cuffs from each corner of the bed. Before Sasha understood what was happening her wrists and ankles had been secured spread eagle.
“Someone help me!!!” screamed Sasha as new terror gripped her.
“Tell me your name,” said the voice.
“S-S-Sasha.”
“Sasha, that’s a pretty name. It suits a pretty girl. Sasha, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”
“What? What does that mean?”
“Aren’t you here to investigate the mystery of the tickling ghost?” asked the voice.
“Is that what happened to you?” asked Sasha nervously. “Did someone tickle you to death?”
The voice replied, “No, I was cursed. Some of what you’ve heard about this mansion’s owner is true, some is not. My name was Samantha Witherrock; I inherited a vast fortune from my parents. Contrary to what you kids always say I was hardly an old woman. In fact, I was a student at the college right up the street from here. Not that I needed the degree, but it gave me something to waste money on. And it gave me an easy way to meet girls for my experiments.”
“What experiments?” asked Sasha.
“I was fascinated by the occult, dark rituals were performed here. I used my spells to make my fantasies come true. Do you know what I fantasize about?”
“N-n-no.”
“Tickling little cuties, like yourself! What got me in trouble was when I crossed a powerful sorceress; I tickled her within an inch of her wits… not that she didn’t deserve it. But after that she put a hex on me. I’m cursed to an undead existence, unable to leave this mansion. So I wait for you little teeny boppers to come snooping around my mansion and then…”
Sasha’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then what?”
“…then I tickle them until they’re insane! Just like me!”
“No! Wait, please. Just wait a second, we can talk!” Sasha panicked as she felt invisible fingers lightly brushing against her elbows.
“Coochie coochie coo,” teased Samantha the ghost.
Sasha pulled with all her might, however, the cuffs held her fast. The light touches slipped down the insides of her arms with an almost loving caress.
“Does that feel nice Sasha?”
“No-no, it doesn’t,” said Sasha. “Please, let me go! I don’t want to die!”
With baby-soft touches Samantha trolled her ghostly fingernails just above the hollow of Sasha’s armpits. Every time the nails would start down the conclave under her arms the poor brunette would jump and catch her breath. Samantha spent a few moments just teasing her captive, letting her fingers stroll down to the edge of the sensitive zone until Sasha jerked. As soon as the captive reacted the ghost would slip her fingers back up the arms, only to start the process again over and over.
“Do you have ticklish armpits Sasha? Oh, I bet they are. A cutie like you has to be ticklish from head to toe. Let’s explore, shall we?”
Fiendishly, Samantha lightly scampered her fingernails through the dimples of Sasha’s armpits. After titillating their centers the ghost stopped to scratch and then looped her fingers back up the underarms again. Unprepared for the insidiously gentle tickles, Sasha chuckled and squirmed her body around. Her tank top left her underarms uncovered and her bare pits were one of the most ticklish spots on her body. Memories of her sisters holding her down and torturing her with tickles flooded Sasha’s mind. She was so ticklish when she was young, growing up hadn’t diminished her sensitivity one bit.
Of course, being tormented by an invisible tickler only made it harder to tolerate. Not being able to see what was happening to your body made Sasha’s imagination run wild with fear. If she could see Samantha, Sasha would spy the ghost lowering her lips to right above the brunette’s right armpit. Then she’d probably tense up as the ghost stuck out her tongue and hovered it above her ticklish hollow. However, Sasha couldn’t see any of this, so when Samantha gave her armpit a nice long lick it caught her completely off guard.
“TEEEEEEEEEEEEEhehehehehehehehe! Don’t do that! Don’t do that!”
“What, this?” Samantha slobbered her tongue all around the dimple of Sasha’s armpit. The wet touches elicited shrieks and giggles from the helpless girl and made Samantha feel alive again. Even as a ghost she could manifest in such a way as to interact with the living; in fact her licks left Sasha’s armpit damp with saliva.
“Hehehhehehehehe, cut it out, hehehehehe!”
“Nope, no mercy for the prisoner,” said Samantha. The ghost blew a long cold breath across Sasha’s armpit. The underarm was wet from being licked and it made Sasha thrash in her bonds. It wasn’t that it tickled all that much but it certainly freaked her out; the sensory overload from not seeing her tormentor was making Sasha nuts.
Again Samantha ran her tongue over Sasha’s underarm. At the same time she craned a hand over the other armpit and unleashed her tickly fingers. The fingernails gently scratched the conclave of the armpit causing Sasha to buck like a bronco. Unable to contain her anxious ticklishness, the brunette threw her head back and giggled uncontrollably.
“Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it! Hehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it!”
“’Stop it, stop it’, you sound like a broken record!” said Samantha. She puckered up and pressed her lips in the well of Sasha’s right armpit. With sadistic flare she blew a raspberry that made Sasha’s back arch up off the bed.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH GAWD! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Both ghostly hands were deployed to Sasha’s flanks. Soon fingernails were tickling the girl’s ribs mercilessly. Samantha worked her hands from the top of Sasha’s ribs, to around her back, over her hips, to back up where she was almost tickling the brunette’s belly. Sasha howled with laughter and thrashed so much that she almost threw her glasses off her nose.
“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! Samantha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Would you rather get it in the pits?”
Samantha danced her fingers back up into Sasha’s hollows and began scratching the girl in a maddeningly light way. Her touches weren’t harsh and she was careful not to dig into the girl’s sensitive skin. Every tickle was soft as new fallen snow and teased so severely that Sasha couldn’t think of anything but how ticklish she felt.
“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Not the pits! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“How about the belly then?”
That terrible tongue got a new assignment, this time in Sasha’s vulnerable belly button. Samantha slithered her tongue in there like a titillating little snake; she wiggled it back and forth and applied pressure to the button. Anyone who’s ever had a finger pressed into their navel can attest to how maddening it feels, for Sasha it was like hell on Earth. She couldn’t even see her torturer and the constant motion of the tongue meant the tickling was constant. Meanwhile, fingernails were dancing all over her tummy, making Sasha buck wildly once again.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA! STAWP! Hehehehehehe! Stop! Hehehehehehehehehehe! Get the hell, hehehehehehehehehehehehe, out of my navel! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm… so tasty,” teased Samantha. She worked her tongue into Sasha’s navel a second time and the brunette promptly flipped out.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HELP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SOMEONE HELP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Someone, hehehehehehehehehe, make her stop! Hehehehehehehehehehehe!”
Further south of the belly button, Samantha had wormed a hand between Sasha’s legs and was massaging the sensitive zones of her inner thighs. Her jeans did little to help Sasha with this kind of tickle which was more of a dig then a scratch. The girl was completely unprepared to be touched in that area; surprise and fear compounded her reaction and the result was renewed giggling.
“Is this getting you a little hot Sasha? I have to admit, I love it.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Mercy! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Just one break! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Wait just a second! Hahahahaha! Wait! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“You’re not used to the girl’s touching your thighs, are you? I can tell by the pitch of your voice, this is a new touch. Do you like it?”
“Hahahahahahahahahahaha, no no no no! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Nooohohohohohohohoho! No more! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“When I was alive I had the worst foot fetish. I used to love to spy on pretty girl’s feet. Do you have pretty feet Sasha?”
“Let me go! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehee!”
Moving the end of the bed placed Samantha square between Sasha’s cuffed ankles. A few pulls unlaced the brunette’s sneakers. The ghost yanked the shoes off and dropped them beside the bed.
“I used to fantasize about tickling the other girls in my sorority,” admitted the ghost. “I would dream of tying them down and tickling the bottoms of their feet. You’re such a cutie; I bet you have very tickly feet. Do you have tickly feet Sasha?”
“Yes! I have very tickly feet! Please, please, please don’t tickle my feet! Please Samantha, don’t tickle my feet! Let’s talk about this, we’ll find a way to get you free! Just don’t tickle my feet, I’m begging you!”
Samantha began to scratch her fingernails at Sasha’s sock-covered insteps. The captive grinned broadly and shook her head from side to side. Toes curled down in a futile reflex designed to protect ticklish feet; in fact it did nothing to help. If not for her white socks Sasha would be half out of her mind from the fingernails skritching and scratching her soles.
“Did you have big sisters Sasha? Did they touch your tickly feet like this? Hold you down and tickle and tickle and tickle while you begged them to stop?”
“Tee he he he he he he, you’re sadistic! Hehehehe! Let me up! He he he he he! HELP!!! Tee he he he he he he…”
“My sorority sisters used to hold me down and tickle my feet. I secretly loved it, but I never told them. They used to make me howl and beg. Do you know what they did then?”
“Hehehehe, stop it! Hehehehe!”
“No, they didn’t ‘stop it’. They would make it worse… they would take off my socks!”
Sasha let loose with every plea she could think of; screaming for help and begging for mercy. None of it deterred Samantha from rolling the socks off of Sasha’s feet, leaving her tootsies bare and helpless. Fingers pulled Sasha’s toes apart so Samantha could blow nice cold breaths on the delicate flesh between them; each application made Sasha jump and squeal.
“Us girls are so tender between our toes… so fragile. You have to use a nice light touch…”
Gently Sasha’s toes were pulled back so Samantha could apply her fingernails underneath them. They scratched softly, but also quickly, and it made Sasha clamp her eyes shut. Her legs shook with involuntarily spasms and the poor girl grinned ear-to-ear.
“Tickle tickle tickle,” cooed Samantha. Still holding the toes back, she danced her free fingers over the ball of Sasha’s left foot and down into her arch. It was on that tender territory that she let them dwell, scratching and tickling at the sole of Sasha’s foot.
Sasha bit down and held the giggles in with her last ounce of strength. The invisible tickler was driving her crazy; it was just like when she had been tickled as a little girl all over again. There was nowhere to turn for mercy, no way to break free. All she could do was endure the tickling feelings that were reducing her normal “tough girl” persona to a blubbering child. Suddenly Sasha felt embarrassed that she was turning into such a crybaby. There was nothing she could do, it tickled, and tickling is a touch that can’t be ignored no matter how hard you try.
The toes were released so both of Samantha’s ghostly hands could be free. She went to work on both of Sasha’s soles, tickling the insteps and arches mercilessly. Unable to control herself any longer, Sasha roared with laughter that warmed Samantha’s heart to hear.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! (cough) (cough) Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Come on (cough)! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! I’ll do, hahahahahahahahahahaha, anything! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Anything? Would you really do anything?” Fingertips brushed Sasha’s soles like spiders that couldn’t get traction; the ghost alternated the area of attention from right under the ball of the foot, to the center of the arch, and then to the outsides of the feet. The randomness kept Sasha off guard and half-crazed.
Samantha picked up the feather duster and brushed it over Sasha’s toes. The brunette was such a giggly mess that a slight breeze would be sufficient to crack her up. The feather duster proved more than sufficient to keep the giggles rolling even it didn’t tickle as bad as the fingers.
“Hehehehehehehehehehe, anything (cough) (cough), hehehehehehe! Can’t breathe! Hehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“To answer your question from before, yes, I did use this duster on the slaves. My little tickle slaves would giggle so helplessly. I’d love to look down at those sweet faces; those smiles of joy told me what a good mistress I was. And I would love them so.”
“Hehehehehehehehehehe (cough) (cough) hehehehehehehehe! You’re sick! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (cough)! Stop now! Hehehehehehe, stop right now! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe, I’ll do anything!”
Ticklish toes wiggled in the air as Samantha’s feather duster brushed back and forth. The ghost’s free hand was back to tickling Sasha’s soles, ensuring that the lightness of the duster wouldn’t give Sasha a chance to calm down.
“So you’ll do anything huh? That’s good. That means you’re starting to learn to submit. I’ll make a good slave out of you yet.”
Tears flowed freely down Sasha’s cheeks; she just wanted the tickling to stop. She wiggled her feet but there was nowhere they could go to escape. Samantha was a relentless tickler and didn’t give a second of rest to her captive. By now her fingers were wedged underneath Sasha’s toes, torturing some of the girl’s most sensitive spots.
“Hehehehehehehehe, anything, hehehehehehehehehehehehehe, I’ll be your, HAHAHAHAHA! Your slave! Hehehehehehehehehehehe! Anything you say! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Let me free! Hahahahahahaha!”
“I can’t enslave you without your love. Do I have it?”
“Oh come on! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe! YES YES YES! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe! My love! Hehehehehehehehehe! Cut it out now! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
Samantha moved next to Sasha’s abdomen. “Will you submit when told?”
“(huff puff) Yes! Tee hee hee, yes (huff puff)!”
“What’s my name then?” asked Samantha.
“Samantha (huff puff)!” replied the exhausted Sasha.
Samantha pressed her lips against Sasha’s belly and blew a wet raspberry. The brunette’s shrieks filled the room.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! HEHEHEHEHEHEhehehehehehe! DON’T DO THAT! Hehehehehehehehehehehe (gasp)! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Incorrect! What is my name?”
“Master! Hehehehe! Your name is Master!”
The ghost shook her head, albeit invisibly, and applied her lips again. This time she blew the raspberry on the other side of Sasha’s belly button. Sasha howled with glee, the belly blasters made her completely helpless with laughter.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Hehehehehehehe! Plllleeeehehehehehehehehease!!! Please!!! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Stop it!”
“Don’t you ever command me to stop, that is your first rule. I give the commands, do you understand?”
As far as slaves went Sasha was a disheveled mess, yet Samantha still gazed down on her lovingly. Sasha gave an obedient nod in answer to the ghost’s question, she understood the rule. For a reward Samantha gingerly caressed Sasha’s belly, rubbing some of the sting of the last tickle away.
“And now for your second rule. Tell me Sasha, what do you call me? What is my name?” asked Samantha.
“(Huff puff) I call you (cough) my mistress. You are my mistress (huff puff).”
“Very good girl!” Samantha beamed with pride that her new subordinate had learned her first lessons so well.
Samantha kissed Sasha’s forehead. Her ghostly fingers slipped hair, wet from sweat, off of Sasha’s face. More kisses were followed by fingers playing behind the girl’s ears, lightly teasing. When Sasha felt her glasses being lifted off of her nose, immediately she panicked. Her eyes got wide and her voice hysterical, she was obviously insecure about having them taken.
“No, not my glasses! I can’t see anything without them! Please mistress, I’ll be blind!”
“Shh, don’t cry. I see you’re particular about your glasses; it’s good that you shared that with me early in our relationship. Ok sweet slave, you can keep them… for now. But your mistress can take them anytime she wants, so you had better remember to be extra good for me. I’ll give you some time to rest and think about what you’ve learned so far. When I’m ready to teach you the next lesson I’ll be back.”
“May I move around mistress?” asked Sasha in a broken voice. “My arms are sore… and I think I have to go to the bathroom.”
Sasha couldn’t believe she was asking permission, or calling someone a mistress, but this was not a typical situation. She had fallen into the web of some kind of kinky phantom and it wasn’t clear when she’d be able to get out. Survival was the most important thing, and if she had to call the ghost her mistress then that was what she would do. Plus, all that tickling had made her feel like she might wet herself if relief wasn’t found soon.
“You’ve earned the privilege of having your cuffs undone,” said Samantha. “But you are not allowed to leave this area yet. You’re still a young slave and I don’t want you getting into any trouble while you’re alone. Now, that door to the left is a bathroom. You have permission to use it if you need. That door to the right leads to the hall; I’m going to bar that one and if I find you tried to escape you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes mistress,” replied Sasha.
Sasha’s eyes sank, if she got locked in this room there’d be no way out. She could try yelling; maybe someone passing by the estate might hear her through the hole in the ceiling. At that moment Sasha looked up and to her amazement the ceiling looked perfectly fine! The hole she’d fallen through had disappeared!
“I control everything about this mansion,” said Samantha. “The sooner you learn that the better. Now be a good girl while I’m gone.”
Sasha felt an invisible pair of lips kiss her cheek. Next thing she knew the padded cuffs were being undone. Tired and broken, Sasha sat up and rubbed her wrists. She was scared and confused; the clanking sound in the hall confirmed that the door had indeed just been barred. Like an animal, she was trapped and at her mistresses’ mercy.
Unexpected fingers were felt along Sasha’s flanks; Samantha gave her slave one more playful tickle on the ribs before she moved on. Sasha curled into a ball and giggled like a schoolgirl. Darting the ghostly fingers from one side to the other made Sasha roll around; the brunette was desperate to protect her sides from any ticklish touches. The display made Samantha smile, she loved this trespasser. With luck the other two girls would be just as much fun.
Next time: Tabitha knows better than to believe in ghosts; there must be a purely scientific explanation for what’s making her laugh!
“The Witherrock Estate, Part One”
Somewhere in suburban American, on a night lit by moonlight, three girls were on their way back from the movies. It wasn’t the kind of town where you had to be worried about walking at night and the threesome had decided to hang out at Sasha’s house after the flick. The movie hadn’t been all that good but the girls were pals and made their own fun; their joking and giggling echoed down the empty street.
The first of the girls was Sasha, a spunky brunette wearing jeans and a sleeveless black tank top. Thin-rimmed glasses rested on her nose, covering her hazel eyes. Her shoulder length hair hid her pentagram shaped earrings. All three of the girls were students at the local college; Sasha was the only one lucky enough to afford an apartment and it was their normal spot to hang out. She was far too independent to stand dorm life; Sasha had a real “go get ‘em” attitude that sometimes clashed with prudes among the student body.
Next to her was Tabitha, the baby of the group. Although she was only a year younger than her friends they still treated her like the little sister of their triad. Tabitha didn’t really mind so long as it didn’t embarrass her in front of others and it was rare that the other girls did anything that hurt her feelings. Her blonde hair fell down to her shoulder blades, covering the back of her green t-shirt. The shirt was cut a little short and left Tabitha’s belly button open to the springtime air. Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Tabitha was wearing her usual plucky grin. Tabitha was the pragmatic one out of the group; hers was the voice of restraint whenever Sasha wanted to do something impulsive.
Last was Alexa, an attractive redhead. Like Tabitha, Alexa left her crimson hair long and it almost fell to the small of her back. She wore a blue t-shirt with a pair of shorts and sneakers. Alexa fancied herself to be an athlete and tended to be more competitive than the other girls. Her favorite pastime was screaming at the television during football season, which was something that her two friends couldn’t understand. That often led to her second favorite pastime, the dreaded tickle fight that would ensue when Sasha decided she’d heard enough swearing at the referees. Although she’d never admit it, Alexa enjoyed being helplessly tickled; the loss of control triggered a thrill that she couldn’t replicate with any extreme sport.
“Hey look,” said Alexa, “someone left the gate of the Witherrock place open.”
The girls stopped along the rusted steel gate of the creepiest estate in town. The old Witherrock mansion had been abandoned for over twenty years ever since its owner just disappeared one day. Local urban legends had sprung up since suggesting everything from murder to alien abduction. Supposedly Miss Witherrock was into the occult and bizarre ceremonies were rumored to have taken place inside. Everyone in town agreed that the place had to be haunted. Sneaking into the estate had been a rite of passage when the girls were teens; of course no one ever got more than a few feet into it before some creaking board scared the wits out of everyone.
“Maybe it was the ghost,” said Sasha, “that, you know, left the gate open. Maybe the ghost wants us to come visit…”
“Oh stop it,” said Tabitha, “no one actually believes that.”
“Listen to Miss Logical here,” teased Alexa. “I bet she doesn’t even know.”
“Know what?” asked Tabitha. From behind her Sasha winked to Alexa, indicating that it might be time to have a little fun with their blonde pal.
“Well,” answered Alexa, “today is Friday the 13th.”
“And every Friday the 13th the ghost of old Miss Witherrock roams the halls of the mansion,” said Sasha. “People say they’ve seen lights in the windows…”
“Yeah, candle lights!” said Alexa. “She lights one for every stupid kid who sneaks into her place and never comes out alive.”
Tabitha crossed her arms. “Do you really expect me to believe that garbage? We’re all in college now so it’s time to act like it. There is no such thing as ghosts.”
Sasha grabbed Tabitha’s shoulders and turned her towards the open gate. “Well, if you’re so sure then you can lead the way inside!”
“Wh-wh-wait!” cried Tabitha as Sasha tried to shove her forward. “No! We’ll get in trouble! What if a cop drives by?!”
“Please,” replied Alexa, “the donut-eating-brigade won’t even get out of their cars. I think you’re scared to go in for another reason!”
“Yeah, I think you’re scared of the ghost!” teased Sasha.
Tabitha shot out her arms and grabbed the iron bars of the gate, trying to keep Sasha from pushing her inside the yard. “I’m not scared of ghosts. That’s for kids. But we’ll get in big trouble if we get caught in there. Hey, they say it’s condemned and someone might get hurt!”
“Excuses, excuses, excuses,” sang Sasha. The brunette wiggled her fingertips into Tabitha’s ribs.
Tabitha squealed and flung her blonde hair from side to side. “Cut it out! HEEEEEEEEEEE! Sasha! That tickles!”
“Ah, is poor Tabitha ticklish?” teased Alexa. The redhead slipped her index finger in the right sleeve of Tabitha’s shirt. Her fingernail was in the perfect position to scratch against the bare skin of her friend’s armpit. Scratch she did, lightly brushing against the sensitive flesh under Tabitha’s arm.
“Hehehehe! Cut it out you goofs!” Tabitha lost her grip on the gate and clamped her arms against her sides. It was an understandable response, she’d always been quite ticklish and protecting her flanks was simple reflex.
“Forward ho!” cried Sasha. She bum-rushed Tabitha up onto the old mansion’s porch. Alexa closed the gate behind them.
“I really don’t like this idea,” said Tabitha. She glanced around with timid eyes.
“Don’t worry Tabby,” said Alexa. “I’ll take care of that mean old ghost if she gets big on you.”
Suddenly the girls were struck silent as the front door creaked open. A cold wind blew across the deck, giving all three of them goose bumps. Footsteps could be heard inside yet not a soul could be seen.
“I wanna leave,” stammered Tabitha.
“I have to see what’s inside,” said Sasha. She raced in the open door.
“Sasha, wait for us!” cried Alexa. Sasha was always acting impulsively, it usually only led to trouble.
“What are you two so scared of?” asked Sasha. “Come on, let’s do some ghostbusting!” Sasha jumped up and down on the old floor. There was a slight creak just before the floor buckled under Sasha’s feet. She fell down and out of sight.
Tabitha and Alexa ran to the edge of the newly made hole and yelled out for their friend. They were answered with a familiar mischievous giggle. Not only was Sasha alright but she was apparently quite pleased with what she’d found.
“This is too cool,” called Sasha. “I fell onto some kind of old bed. Guys, check it out, there’s some kind of dungeon down here! I mean, there are chains and handcuffs on the walls around the bed. And there are all kinds of weird things on the table. I think old Miss Witherrock entertained the slaves down here, if you know what I mean.” More giggles followed as Sasha sifted through the various naughty tools lying on the table by the bed.
“Be careful Sasha!” yelled Tabitha. “Can you get back up?”
“No,” replied Sasha, “it was a pretty good fall. I’ll have to find the stairs.”
“Stay there,” yelled Alexa, “we’ll come to you.” Alexa tugged Tabitha’s arm towards a nearby door; the two girls set out to find the stairs leading down.
There wasn’t much light down where Sasha was; deep shadows lined the walls and corners. Nevertheless, the room was full of kinky toys and she wanted to explore around. The brunette plucked a feather duster off a wall mount and twirled it in her palms.
“Hmm, I wonder what Miss Witherrock used this for (giggle)?” Sasha turned the duster upright and spun it under her chin. “Was this to torture the slaves? Maybe the old Chinese tickle torture, eh?”
“Something like that,” answered a female voice.
Sasha turned around but didn’t see anyone who could have said the words. She dropped the duster and clenched her hands into fists. Suddenly she felt very afraid, however, it wasn’t her style to show fear.
“Who’s there?” asked Sasha.
“You’re a little trespasser,” said the voice.
“I mean it, who’s there?!”
“You’re lippy for a trespasser. Tonight must be my lucky night, I’ve been hoping for some new guests.”
Sasha backed into the corner, her eyes scanned from one side of the room to the other. There was no one out there yet this voice sounded like it was right next to her.
“You’d better step out,” warned Sasha, “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
Laughter erupted in response to Sasha’s threat. “You’re a cute little spitfire, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
Sasha felt a chill come across her, like what they say happens when a ghost passes through your body. She shivered, half from the cold and half from fear.
“Tell me your name my sweet,” commanded the voice. “I have ways to loosen those lips if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“Wh-where are you?” whispered Sasha. She could see her breath on the air even though the temperature had been in the seventies. An invisible hand slipped through her brown hair; Sasha jumped in surprise.
“Pl-please. I didn’t mean to trespass.” Sasha’s tone became a little more shaken.
“Hmm, missy isn’t so tough now, is she?” said the voice. “Are you scared of ghosts little girl?”
“Umm, no. I’m not scared, ghosts don’t exist.”
“Good, I’m glad you feel that way.”
A force grabbed Sasha by the wrists and yanked her up in the air. The brunette screamed and kicked her legs. It was futile; there was nothing for her to strike with her sneakers. The force moved Sasha until she was dangling over the bed.
“Put me down! Put me down! Oh gawd, someone help me!!!” Sasha’s tough girl veneer was gone; tears of terror began to well up in her eyes.
“Now you listen to me,” said the voice. “I’ll put you down if, and only if, you follow my commands. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes! Please put me down!” Sasha was rewarded with her release; the force deposited her on the bed.
“Now, lay on your back,” said the voice.
Sasha did as told. Her eyes were wide with fear; she wondered what was about to happen to her.
“Now, raise your arms like you’re under arrest. Reach up… that’s it! Keep reaching up until you can touch the bedposts!”
Sasha stretched her arms up so far that her shirt rode up, uncovered her tummy. Her sleeveless tank top didn’t protect much to begin with; it had been such a nice night that such an outfit was appropriate. Now it left her in a very precarious position. It got worse as invisible hands pulled padded cuffs from each corner of the bed. Before Sasha understood what was happening her wrists and ankles had been secured spread eagle.
“Someone help me!!!” screamed Sasha as new terror gripped her.
“Tell me your name,” said the voice.
“S-S-Sasha.”
“Sasha, that’s a pretty name. It suits a pretty girl. Sasha, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”
“What? What does that mean?”
“Aren’t you here to investigate the mystery of the tickling ghost?” asked the voice.
“Is that what happened to you?” asked Sasha nervously. “Did someone tickle you to death?”
The voice replied, “No, I was cursed. Some of what you’ve heard about this mansion’s owner is true, some is not. My name was Samantha Witherrock; I inherited a vast fortune from my parents. Contrary to what you kids always say I was hardly an old woman. In fact, I was a student at the college right up the street from here. Not that I needed the degree, but it gave me something to waste money on. And it gave me an easy way to meet girls for my experiments.”
“What experiments?” asked Sasha.
“I was fascinated by the occult, dark rituals were performed here. I used my spells to make my fantasies come true. Do you know what I fantasize about?”
“N-n-no.”
“Tickling little cuties, like yourself! What got me in trouble was when I crossed a powerful sorceress; I tickled her within an inch of her wits… not that she didn’t deserve it. But after that she put a hex on me. I’m cursed to an undead existence, unable to leave this mansion. So I wait for you little teeny boppers to come snooping around my mansion and then…”
Sasha’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then what?”
“…then I tickle them until they’re insane! Just like me!”
“No! Wait, please. Just wait a second, we can talk!” Sasha panicked as she felt invisible fingers lightly brushing against her elbows.
“Coochie coochie coo,” teased Samantha the ghost.
Sasha pulled with all her might, however, the cuffs held her fast. The light touches slipped down the insides of her arms with an almost loving caress.
“Does that feel nice Sasha?”
“No-no, it doesn’t,” said Sasha. “Please, let me go! I don’t want to die!”
With baby-soft touches Samantha trolled her ghostly fingernails just above the hollow of Sasha’s armpits. Every time the nails would start down the conclave under her arms the poor brunette would jump and catch her breath. Samantha spent a few moments just teasing her captive, letting her fingers stroll down to the edge of the sensitive zone until Sasha jerked. As soon as the captive reacted the ghost would slip her fingers back up the arms, only to start the process again over and over.
“Do you have ticklish armpits Sasha? Oh, I bet they are. A cutie like you has to be ticklish from head to toe. Let’s explore, shall we?”
Fiendishly, Samantha lightly scampered her fingernails through the dimples of Sasha’s armpits. After titillating their centers the ghost stopped to scratch and then looped her fingers back up the underarms again. Unprepared for the insidiously gentle tickles, Sasha chuckled and squirmed her body around. Her tank top left her underarms uncovered and her bare pits were one of the most ticklish spots on her body. Memories of her sisters holding her down and torturing her with tickles flooded Sasha’s mind. She was so ticklish when she was young, growing up hadn’t diminished her sensitivity one bit.
Of course, being tormented by an invisible tickler only made it harder to tolerate. Not being able to see what was happening to your body made Sasha’s imagination run wild with fear. If she could see Samantha, Sasha would spy the ghost lowering her lips to right above the brunette’s right armpit. Then she’d probably tense up as the ghost stuck out her tongue and hovered it above her ticklish hollow. However, Sasha couldn’t see any of this, so when Samantha gave her armpit a nice long lick it caught her completely off guard.
“TEEEEEEEEEEEEEhehehehehehehehe! Don’t do that! Don’t do that!”
“What, this?” Samantha slobbered her tongue all around the dimple of Sasha’s armpit. The wet touches elicited shrieks and giggles from the helpless girl and made Samantha feel alive again. Even as a ghost she could manifest in such a way as to interact with the living; in fact her licks left Sasha’s armpit damp with saliva.
“Hehehhehehehehe, cut it out, hehehehehe!”
“Nope, no mercy for the prisoner,” said Samantha. The ghost blew a long cold breath across Sasha’s armpit. The underarm was wet from being licked and it made Sasha thrash in her bonds. It wasn’t that it tickled all that much but it certainly freaked her out; the sensory overload from not seeing her tormentor was making Sasha nuts.
Again Samantha ran her tongue over Sasha’s underarm. At the same time she craned a hand over the other armpit and unleashed her tickly fingers. The fingernails gently scratched the conclave of the armpit causing Sasha to buck like a bronco. Unable to contain her anxious ticklishness, the brunette threw her head back and giggled uncontrollably.
“Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it! Hehehehehehehehehehehe! Stop it!”
“’Stop it, stop it’, you sound like a broken record!” said Samantha. She puckered up and pressed her lips in the well of Sasha’s right armpit. With sadistic flare she blew a raspberry that made Sasha’s back arch up off the bed.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH GAWD! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Both ghostly hands were deployed to Sasha’s flanks. Soon fingernails were tickling the girl’s ribs mercilessly. Samantha worked her hands from the top of Sasha’s ribs, to around her back, over her hips, to back up where she was almost tickling the brunette’s belly. Sasha howled with laughter and thrashed so much that she almost threw her glasses off her nose.
“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! Samantha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Would you rather get it in the pits?”
Samantha danced her fingers back up into Sasha’s hollows and began scratching the girl in a maddeningly light way. Her touches weren’t harsh and she was careful not to dig into the girl’s sensitive skin. Every tickle was soft as new fallen snow and teased so severely that Sasha couldn’t think of anything but how ticklish she felt.
“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Not the pits! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“How about the belly then?”
That terrible tongue got a new assignment, this time in Sasha’s vulnerable belly button. Samantha slithered her tongue in there like a titillating little snake; she wiggled it back and forth and applied pressure to the button. Anyone who’s ever had a finger pressed into their navel can attest to how maddening it feels, for Sasha it was like hell on Earth. She couldn’t even see her torturer and the constant motion of the tongue meant the tickling was constant. Meanwhile, fingernails were dancing all over her tummy, making Sasha buck wildly once again.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA! STAWP! Hehehehehehe! Stop! Hehehehehehehehehehe! Get the hell, hehehehehehehehehehehehe, out of my navel! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm… so tasty,” teased Samantha. She worked her tongue into Sasha’s navel a second time and the brunette promptly flipped out.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HELP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SOMEONE HELP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Someone, hehehehehehehehehe, make her stop! Hehehehehehehehehehehe!”
Further south of the belly button, Samantha had wormed a hand between Sasha’s legs and was massaging the sensitive zones of her inner thighs. Her jeans did little to help Sasha with this kind of tickle which was more of a dig then a scratch. The girl was completely unprepared to be touched in that area; surprise and fear compounded her reaction and the result was renewed giggling.
“Is this getting you a little hot Sasha? I have to admit, I love it.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Mercy! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Just one break! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Wait just a second! Hahahahaha! Wait! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“You’re not used to the girl’s touching your thighs, are you? I can tell by the pitch of your voice, this is a new touch. Do you like it?”
“Hahahahahahahahahahaha, no no no no! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Nooohohohohohohohoho! No more! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“When I was alive I had the worst foot fetish. I used to love to spy on pretty girl’s feet. Do you have pretty feet Sasha?”
“Let me go! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehee!”
Moving the end of the bed placed Samantha square between Sasha’s cuffed ankles. A few pulls unlaced the brunette’s sneakers. The ghost yanked the shoes off and dropped them beside the bed.
“I used to fantasize about tickling the other girls in my sorority,” admitted the ghost. “I would dream of tying them down and tickling the bottoms of their feet. You’re such a cutie; I bet you have very tickly feet. Do you have tickly feet Sasha?”
“Yes! I have very tickly feet! Please, please, please don’t tickle my feet! Please Samantha, don’t tickle my feet! Let’s talk about this, we’ll find a way to get you free! Just don’t tickle my feet, I’m begging you!”
Samantha began to scratch her fingernails at Sasha’s sock-covered insteps. The captive grinned broadly and shook her head from side to side. Toes curled down in a futile reflex designed to protect ticklish feet; in fact it did nothing to help. If not for her white socks Sasha would be half out of her mind from the fingernails skritching and scratching her soles.
“Did you have big sisters Sasha? Did they touch your tickly feet like this? Hold you down and tickle and tickle and tickle while you begged them to stop?”
“Tee he he he he he he, you’re sadistic! Hehehehe! Let me up! He he he he he! HELP!!! Tee he he he he he he…”
“My sorority sisters used to hold me down and tickle my feet. I secretly loved it, but I never told them. They used to make me howl and beg. Do you know what they did then?”
“Hehehehe, stop it! Hehehehe!”
“No, they didn’t ‘stop it’. They would make it worse… they would take off my socks!”
Sasha let loose with every plea she could think of; screaming for help and begging for mercy. None of it deterred Samantha from rolling the socks off of Sasha’s feet, leaving her tootsies bare and helpless. Fingers pulled Sasha’s toes apart so Samantha could blow nice cold breaths on the delicate flesh between them; each application made Sasha jump and squeal.
“Us girls are so tender between our toes… so fragile. You have to use a nice light touch…”
Gently Sasha’s toes were pulled back so Samantha could apply her fingernails underneath them. They scratched softly, but also quickly, and it made Sasha clamp her eyes shut. Her legs shook with involuntarily spasms and the poor girl grinned ear-to-ear.
“Tickle tickle tickle,” cooed Samantha. Still holding the toes back, she danced her free fingers over the ball of Sasha’s left foot and down into her arch. It was on that tender territory that she let them dwell, scratching and tickling at the sole of Sasha’s foot.
Sasha bit down and held the giggles in with her last ounce of strength. The invisible tickler was driving her crazy; it was just like when she had been tickled as a little girl all over again. There was nowhere to turn for mercy, no way to break free. All she could do was endure the tickling feelings that were reducing her normal “tough girl” persona to a blubbering child. Suddenly Sasha felt embarrassed that she was turning into such a crybaby. There was nothing she could do, it tickled, and tickling is a touch that can’t be ignored no matter how hard you try.
The toes were released so both of Samantha’s ghostly hands could be free. She went to work on both of Sasha’s soles, tickling the insteps and arches mercilessly. Unable to control herself any longer, Sasha roared with laughter that warmed Samantha’s heart to hear.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! (cough) (cough) Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Come on (cough)! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! I’ll do, hahahahahahahahahahaha, anything! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Anything? Would you really do anything?” Fingertips brushed Sasha’s soles like spiders that couldn’t get traction; the ghost alternated the area of attention from right under the ball of the foot, to the center of the arch, and then to the outsides of the feet. The randomness kept Sasha off guard and half-crazed.
Samantha picked up the feather duster and brushed it over Sasha’s toes. The brunette was such a giggly mess that a slight breeze would be sufficient to crack her up. The feather duster proved more than sufficient to keep the giggles rolling even it didn’t tickle as bad as the fingers.
“Hehehehehehehehehehe, anything (cough) (cough), hehehehehehe! Can’t breathe! Hehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“To answer your question from before, yes, I did use this duster on the slaves. My little tickle slaves would giggle so helplessly. I’d love to look down at those sweet faces; those smiles of joy told me what a good mistress I was. And I would love them so.”
“Hehehehehehehehehehe (cough) (cough) hehehehehehehehe! You’re sick! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (cough)! Stop now! Hehehehehehe, stop right now! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehe, I’ll do anything!”
Ticklish toes wiggled in the air as Samantha’s feather duster brushed back and forth. The ghost’s free hand was back to tickling Sasha’s soles, ensuring that the lightness of the duster wouldn’t give Sasha a chance to calm down.
“So you’ll do anything huh? That’s good. That means you’re starting to learn to submit. I’ll make a good slave out of you yet.”
Tears flowed freely down Sasha’s cheeks; she just wanted the tickling to stop. She wiggled her feet but there was nowhere they could go to escape. Samantha was a relentless tickler and didn’t give a second of rest to her captive. By now her fingers were wedged underneath Sasha’s toes, torturing some of the girl’s most sensitive spots.
“Hehehehehehehehe, anything, hehehehehehehehehehehehehe, I’ll be your, HAHAHAHAHA! Your slave! Hehehehehehehehehehehe! Anything you say! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Let me free! Hahahahahahaha!”
“I can’t enslave you without your love. Do I have it?”
“Oh come on! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe! YES YES YES! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe! My love! Hehehehehehehehehe! Cut it out now! Hehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
Samantha moved next to Sasha’s abdomen. “Will you submit when told?”
“(huff puff) Yes! Tee hee hee, yes (huff puff)!”
“What’s my name then?” asked Samantha.
“Samantha (huff puff)!” replied the exhausted Sasha.
Samantha pressed her lips against Sasha’s belly and blew a wet raspberry. The brunette’s shrieks filled the room.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! HEHEHEHEHEHEhehehehehehe! DON’T DO THAT! Hehehehehehehehehehehe (gasp)! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Incorrect! What is my name?”
“Master! Hehehehe! Your name is Master!”
The ghost shook her head, albeit invisibly, and applied her lips again. This time she blew the raspberry on the other side of Sasha’s belly button. Sasha howled with glee, the belly blasters made her completely helpless with laughter.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Hehehehehehehe! Plllleeeehehehehehehehehease!!! Please!!! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Stop it!”
“Don’t you ever command me to stop, that is your first rule. I give the commands, do you understand?”
As far as slaves went Sasha was a disheveled mess, yet Samantha still gazed down on her lovingly. Sasha gave an obedient nod in answer to the ghost’s question, she understood the rule. For a reward Samantha gingerly caressed Sasha’s belly, rubbing some of the sting of the last tickle away.
“And now for your second rule. Tell me Sasha, what do you call me? What is my name?” asked Samantha.
“(Huff puff) I call you (cough) my mistress. You are my mistress (huff puff).”
“Very good girl!” Samantha beamed with pride that her new subordinate had learned her first lessons so well.
Samantha kissed Sasha’s forehead. Her ghostly fingers slipped hair, wet from sweat, off of Sasha’s face. More kisses were followed by fingers playing behind the girl’s ears, lightly teasing. When Sasha felt her glasses being lifted off of her nose, immediately she panicked. Her eyes got wide and her voice hysterical, she was obviously insecure about having them taken.
“No, not my glasses! I can’t see anything without them! Please mistress, I’ll be blind!”
“Shh, don’t cry. I see you’re particular about your glasses; it’s good that you shared that with me early in our relationship. Ok sweet slave, you can keep them… for now. But your mistress can take them anytime she wants, so you had better remember to be extra good for me. I’ll give you some time to rest and think about what you’ve learned so far. When I’m ready to teach you the next lesson I’ll be back.”
“May I move around mistress?” asked Sasha in a broken voice. “My arms are sore… and I think I have to go to the bathroom.”
Sasha couldn’t believe she was asking permission, or calling someone a mistress, but this was not a typical situation. She had fallen into the web of some kind of kinky phantom and it wasn’t clear when she’d be able to get out. Survival was the most important thing, and if she had to call the ghost her mistress then that was what she would do. Plus, all that tickling had made her feel like she might wet herself if relief wasn’t found soon.
“You’ve earned the privilege of having your cuffs undone,” said Samantha. “But you are not allowed to leave this area yet. You’re still a young slave and I don’t want you getting into any trouble while you’re alone. Now, that door to the left is a bathroom. You have permission to use it if you need. That door to the right leads to the hall; I’m going to bar that one and if I find you tried to escape you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes mistress,” replied Sasha.
Sasha’s eyes sank, if she got locked in this room there’d be no way out. She could try yelling; maybe someone passing by the estate might hear her through the hole in the ceiling. At that moment Sasha looked up and to her amazement the ceiling looked perfectly fine! The hole she’d fallen through had disappeared!
“I control everything about this mansion,” said Samantha. “The sooner you learn that the better. Now be a good girl while I’m gone.”
Sasha felt an invisible pair of lips kiss her cheek. Next thing she knew the padded cuffs were being undone. Tired and broken, Sasha sat up and rubbed her wrists. She was scared and confused; the clanking sound in the hall confirmed that the door had indeed just been barred. Like an animal, she was trapped and at her mistresses’ mercy.
Unexpected fingers were felt along Sasha’s flanks; Samantha gave her slave one more playful tickle on the ribs before she moved on. Sasha curled into a ball and giggled like a schoolgirl. Darting the ghostly fingers from one side to the other made Sasha roll around; the brunette was desperate to protect her sides from any ticklish touches. The display made Samantha smile, she loved this trespasser. With luck the other two girls would be just as much fun.
Next time: Tabitha knows better than to believe in ghosts; there must be a purely scientific explanation for what’s making her laugh!
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