SlaveTickler
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2005
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TMF: Celebrity Investigation Division II
Starring: Brook Burk
By SlaveTickler
It’s a warm summer day some place in Idaho, and the beautiful Brook Burk is shooting a bikini layout for FHM magazine. The shapely brunet stepped into her trailer wearing a leppered pattern swimsuit that left very little to the imagination, to catch her afternoon nap. Little did the busty star of Wild On know that she would soon fall victim to the TMF operative know simply as Feather.
Feather was one of the Celebrity Investigation Divisions most eccentric agents, and as such wasn’t used on very many missions. Normally the organization would send him after political targets, especially ones who were a threat to the TMF’s activities. Such an intense is agent feather, that he once mad Ashley Olson pee her self, while he was torturing her sister Mary Kate. Unfortunately, for Brook, all the other skilled operatives were busy, and one was MIA. The agent watched with hungry eyes as his Celeb target took a sip of water before lying down on her bed. With in seconds the masked man popped out of the large closet and pounced on the drowsy. Before Miss Burk could let out a scream she had a chloroform drenched rag pressed against her gorgeous face.
“Sleep well Brook, you’re going to need it.” Whispered the masked man softly, “Soon I will have you laughing hard, and screaming for merci.”
A few hours later, in a barn across town, Miss Burk’s eye’s fluttered open. As the affects of the chemical wore off, she came to realize she was upside down, yet her feet still touched the ground. Brook realized that she was arched backwards over some kind of restraining device. Her wrists were bound with padded leather cuffs that were chained to small iron rings that stuck out of the ground, and could feel a thin leather strap snugly wrapped around her belly.
. ”Help, somebody help me!” cried the helpless woman, “Please, somebody, HELP!”
“Scream all you want.” A darkly dressed man laughed, “Were in the middle of farm country, the nearest neighbor is miles away.”
”What do you want?” she asked.
“Only to hear you laugh.” Replied the man, with a tone that terrified his captive, “You’ll laugh until tears roll down you beautiful cheeks,” he continued revealing a feather, “and you scream for your life.”
Brook pulled vainly pulled at her restraints, as the man taunted her with his big feather. With all the cruelty of a cat, playing with a trapped mouse, he would bring it close to her tanned skin, then pulling it away at the last minuet. He could hear the voice of his
Commander ordering him to get the deed over with, but Feather enjoyed his work a lot, maybe to much. With a sigh of contempt he softly stroked his feather against the neck of his captive, bringing a desired affect.
“Ack, err, stop it.” Grunted Brook, “Don’t, giggle, touch me you, snort, freak!”
Feather just smiled under his black mask, and dragged his name sake over the woman left cheek. Miss Burk giggled, and jerked helplessly, her large breast always on the verge of popping out of her top. The soft tip of the feather was dragged down the center of the captives’ throat, and traced over the out line of her colour bone. All brook could do was giggle and jerk, while the hunger in her tormentors eyes intensifies.
“That’s it, yes, laugh and beg I love it when they laugh and beg.” Hissed Feather tauntingly, “The more you plead the more I enjoy it.”
“Oh, oh no, not there, not the cleavage.” Pleaded Miss Burk, as the feather licked the inner curve of her left breast, “Hahahahaha, oh please stop, hehehehehe.”
The man’s feather slipped deep between the helpless woman’s big tits, causing her to squirm violently, and plead pitifully. The models beautiful face was bright pink, and she gasped for air between bouts of laughter. Brook had never felt so helpless before in her life, she could hardly move, and being bent over backward as she was, was not the most comfortable of positions. The tickling wasn’t helping either, it was continues hell, and it had only just begun.
Miss Burk wasn’t given a moment respite from her tormentor, as his obvious skill with a feather was only surpassed by hi knack for taunting his victim. The operative slowly dragged his interment of torture around the exposed skin of Brook’s breasts, and down the center of her firm belly. The helpless woman’s face winced with ticklish agony as the fluffy tool closed in on her little belly button.
“Oh no please, HAHAHAHAHA, don’t do it, HEHEHEHEHE, I can’t stand to have my button tickled!” screamed the helpless model, “Oh god please stop, HEHEHEHE, HAHAHAHAHA, HEHEHEHEHE. No more, please stop!”
“You want me to stop tickling with the feather?” asked the TMF operative, teasing the outer rim of Brook’s navel.
“Yes, giggle, please stop, snort, I can’t take anymore.” She replied.
“Was it horrible?” he asked, “Was your begging sincere?”
”You were torturing me, I never thought tickling could be so horrible an experience” Brook responded trying to humor him, “You must be the best tickler ever.”
“Okay, I’ll stop tickling you…with the feather.” the masked man said, with a cunning tone, “I’ll use my hands instead.”
Before Brook could responded she was over come with hysterical laughter as agent feather dug his fingers into her lower ribs. The screaming woman pleaded as though she was slowly being murdered. Never before had she felt so helpless, or out of control. Her beautiful tanned body bucked about, as much as it could, and sweat began to bead on her fore head.
“Please, gasp, I can’t bare it any more, HAHAHAHAHA, HEHEHEHE!” Brooke begged, “Please stop it I mean…”
Suddenly know sound came from the model as she fell into silent laughter. Feather continued on his work, keeping his hungry eyes glued to the woman’s struggle to regain her breath. His well manicured fingers kneaded up and down the woman’s ribs, as he showed her no mercy. Then, and all at once, Brook let out a scream, that was followed again by more hysterical laughter. The agent couldn’t have been prouder, and he knew his mission would soon be complete.
“Oh god, hehehehehe, please I can’t, hahahahaha!” pleaded the tear eyed woman, “Oh no, I’m going to pee stop it, stop it now!”
Hearing this only encouraged the TMF operative more. He placed his finger tips on the Brook’s flat belly and began to quickly drag them back and forth. Tears streamed down the models cheeks, and she howled like a crazy woman. If any one had passed by the barn they would have thought some one was skinning a cat. Brook wanted nothing more then to break free and run away, her sides hurt from laughing, and at any moment her bladder was going to force hot urine out into her bikini bottoms. No amount of pleading or begging was goring to stop her torture, so she just let go.
“Good girl.” Mocked Feather, as the agent untied his prisoner, “Let all that pee out, doesn’t it feel good to just let go?”
Brook heard a soft humming, and when she looked up she could see the image of her tormentor fading out of view. The model sighed, as tears and sweat merged on her cheeks. Never before had the raven haired beauty felt more helpless, humiliated, or invigorated and alive. In the end she felt relieved that it was over, but almost hoped for it to happen again.
The End.
(For Feather, because he said he wanted to tickle Brook Burk in a Barn)
(Thanks again to Myriads for letting me use the TMF in my story.)
Starring: Brook Burk
By SlaveTickler
It’s a warm summer day some place in Idaho, and the beautiful Brook Burk is shooting a bikini layout for FHM magazine. The shapely brunet stepped into her trailer wearing a leppered pattern swimsuit that left very little to the imagination, to catch her afternoon nap. Little did the busty star of Wild On know that she would soon fall victim to the TMF operative know simply as Feather.
Feather was one of the Celebrity Investigation Divisions most eccentric agents, and as such wasn’t used on very many missions. Normally the organization would send him after political targets, especially ones who were a threat to the TMF’s activities. Such an intense is agent feather, that he once mad Ashley Olson pee her self, while he was torturing her sister Mary Kate. Unfortunately, for Brook, all the other skilled operatives were busy, and one was MIA. The agent watched with hungry eyes as his Celeb target took a sip of water before lying down on her bed. With in seconds the masked man popped out of the large closet and pounced on the drowsy. Before Miss Burk could let out a scream she had a chloroform drenched rag pressed against her gorgeous face.
“Sleep well Brook, you’re going to need it.” Whispered the masked man softly, “Soon I will have you laughing hard, and screaming for merci.”
A few hours later, in a barn across town, Miss Burk’s eye’s fluttered open. As the affects of the chemical wore off, she came to realize she was upside down, yet her feet still touched the ground. Brook realized that she was arched backwards over some kind of restraining device. Her wrists were bound with padded leather cuffs that were chained to small iron rings that stuck out of the ground, and could feel a thin leather strap snugly wrapped around her belly.
. ”Help, somebody help me!” cried the helpless woman, “Please, somebody, HELP!”
“Scream all you want.” A darkly dressed man laughed, “Were in the middle of farm country, the nearest neighbor is miles away.”
”What do you want?” she asked.
“Only to hear you laugh.” Replied the man, with a tone that terrified his captive, “You’ll laugh until tears roll down you beautiful cheeks,” he continued revealing a feather, “and you scream for your life.”
Brook pulled vainly pulled at her restraints, as the man taunted her with his big feather. With all the cruelty of a cat, playing with a trapped mouse, he would bring it close to her tanned skin, then pulling it away at the last minuet. He could hear the voice of his
Commander ordering him to get the deed over with, but Feather enjoyed his work a lot, maybe to much. With a sigh of contempt he softly stroked his feather against the neck of his captive, bringing a desired affect.
“Ack, err, stop it.” Grunted Brook, “Don’t, giggle, touch me you, snort, freak!”
Feather just smiled under his black mask, and dragged his name sake over the woman left cheek. Miss Burk giggled, and jerked helplessly, her large breast always on the verge of popping out of her top. The soft tip of the feather was dragged down the center of the captives’ throat, and traced over the out line of her colour bone. All brook could do was giggle and jerk, while the hunger in her tormentors eyes intensifies.
“That’s it, yes, laugh and beg I love it when they laugh and beg.” Hissed Feather tauntingly, “The more you plead the more I enjoy it.”
“Oh, oh no, not there, not the cleavage.” Pleaded Miss Burk, as the feather licked the inner curve of her left breast, “Hahahahaha, oh please stop, hehehehehe.”
The man’s feather slipped deep between the helpless woman’s big tits, causing her to squirm violently, and plead pitifully. The models beautiful face was bright pink, and she gasped for air between bouts of laughter. Brook had never felt so helpless before in her life, she could hardly move, and being bent over backward as she was, was not the most comfortable of positions. The tickling wasn’t helping either, it was continues hell, and it had only just begun.
Miss Burk wasn’t given a moment respite from her tormentor, as his obvious skill with a feather was only surpassed by hi knack for taunting his victim. The operative slowly dragged his interment of torture around the exposed skin of Brook’s breasts, and down the center of her firm belly. The helpless woman’s face winced with ticklish agony as the fluffy tool closed in on her little belly button.
“Oh no please, HAHAHAHAHA, don’t do it, HEHEHEHEHE, I can’t stand to have my button tickled!” screamed the helpless model, “Oh god please stop, HEHEHEHE, HAHAHAHAHA, HEHEHEHEHE. No more, please stop!”
“You want me to stop tickling with the feather?” asked the TMF operative, teasing the outer rim of Brook’s navel.
“Yes, giggle, please stop, snort, I can’t take anymore.” She replied.
“Was it horrible?” he asked, “Was your begging sincere?”
”You were torturing me, I never thought tickling could be so horrible an experience” Brook responded trying to humor him, “You must be the best tickler ever.”
“Okay, I’ll stop tickling you…with the feather.” the masked man said, with a cunning tone, “I’ll use my hands instead.”
Before Brook could responded she was over come with hysterical laughter as agent feather dug his fingers into her lower ribs. The screaming woman pleaded as though she was slowly being murdered. Never before had she felt so helpless, or out of control. Her beautiful tanned body bucked about, as much as it could, and sweat began to bead on her fore head.
“Please, gasp, I can’t bare it any more, HAHAHAHAHA, HEHEHEHE!” Brooke begged, “Please stop it I mean…”
Suddenly know sound came from the model as she fell into silent laughter. Feather continued on his work, keeping his hungry eyes glued to the woman’s struggle to regain her breath. His well manicured fingers kneaded up and down the woman’s ribs, as he showed her no mercy. Then, and all at once, Brook let out a scream, that was followed again by more hysterical laughter. The agent couldn’t have been prouder, and he knew his mission would soon be complete.
“Oh god, hehehehehe, please I can’t, hahahahaha!” pleaded the tear eyed woman, “Oh no, I’m going to pee stop it, stop it now!”
Hearing this only encouraged the TMF operative more. He placed his finger tips on the Brook’s flat belly and began to quickly drag them back and forth. Tears streamed down the models cheeks, and she howled like a crazy woman. If any one had passed by the barn they would have thought some one was skinning a cat. Brook wanted nothing more then to break free and run away, her sides hurt from laughing, and at any moment her bladder was going to force hot urine out into her bikini bottoms. No amount of pleading or begging was goring to stop her torture, so she just let go.
“Good girl.” Mocked Feather, as the agent untied his prisoner, “Let all that pee out, doesn’t it feel good to just let go?”
Brook heard a soft humming, and when she looked up she could see the image of her tormentor fading out of view. The model sighed, as tears and sweat merged on her cheeks. Never before had the raven haired beauty felt more helpless, humiliated, or invigorated and alive. In the end she felt relieved that it was over, but almost hoped for it to happen again.
The End.
(For Feather, because he said he wanted to tickle Brook Burk in a Barn)
(Thanks again to Myriads for letting me use the TMF in my story.)
